#endless mischief movie night in

[peacockpenis]

endless mischief movie night in – "high tide school"

bonus:

[omgeto]

☆ THRILL (h)ER! — SATOSUGU X READER

summary: when watching a scary movie with your two best friends, you cant help but hold onto them tight every time you get jumpscared. but as the night goes on and your fingers roam... wait, what movie were you watching again?

wc: 3.3k (its alll smut guys so give me a medal)

cw: double penetration, praising, slight degradation, gojo and geto bickering, fingering, dirty talk (?) and some fun loving you're their pretty little princess. afab!reader, MDNI

an: guys look I finally posted a fic for kinktober, yay me, I hope you like it since Id say the smut on this one hits different sooo give it a chance. also only big brains will understand the fic title.

KINKTOBER M.LIST.

your best friends, gojo and geto always have a way of making you feel right at home, especially when you find yourself in your favourite spot on the couch – sandwiched between them. geto's embrace is a gentle yet possessive one, his arms wrapped around you in a tender hold that radiates warmth, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your lower back.

to your side, gojo's long limbs seamlessly entwine with yours. your legs stretch over to meet him, creating an intimate tangle of limbs. his fingers trail leisurely up and down your thighs, their teasing caresses sending delightful shivers through your body. it's a familiar and electric sensation that's become an unspoken language among the three of you—one that hasn’t fully been enacted upon… yet.

"i don't know why you insist we watch this movie every year," geto complains, his gaze locked onto his b est friend, a playful frustration in his tone. "you're so predictable."

"oh, don't be a bore," gojo retorts, matching geto's glare before shifting his attention down to you. his voice is laced with mischief as he speaks to you. "you find it fun, don't you?" 

“what? do i like crappy slashers from the 80s with big titted damsels running from a shitly costumed killer?” you deadpan, your sarcasm evident. you could feel the vibration from geto as he lowly chuckles. gojo’s face forms a pout that prompts you to quickly add, “but i love them.”

gojo’s pout transforms into a triumphant grin as your admission earns you a playful nudge from him. “that’s my girl,” he exclaims, giving your thigh an excited rub as he turns on the movie.

geto, still chuckling softly, leans in closer. “well, i suppose if toru enjoys it, we can endure it one more time.” his words carry a hint of tenderness, his arm around you tightening ever so slightly, puling you closer into his embrace.                                                                            

you watch the movie in a comfortable silence, the only noise coming from the tv and gojo's oddly placed screams that you've come to expect every year. his over-the-top reactions to jump scares and gruesome scenes never fail to amuse you, and it's a source of endless entertainment for both you and geto.

geto, on the other hand, watches the movie with a more stoic expression, occasionally shaking his head at the implausible plot twists and unrealistic gore. His hand continues to rest on your thigh, his fingers now tracing soothing patterns as if to counterbalance the tension on the screen.

as the movie progresses, you notice how both gojo and geto steal glances at you when they think you're not looking, as their innocent touches progress into heavy petting. but there's a moment where you all pause, their movements stop, and you all look at each other as the loud sounds of exaggerated moans blare from the screen.

“i always forget this scene is in there,” gojo lies, with a snicker, an appreciative smile forming on his face as he watches the scene.gojo's arm remains draped around your shoulders, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on your arm, while geto's touch has grown increasingly intimate, his hand resting on your hip, his thumb making slow, deliberate circles.

“oh don’t bullshit satoru,” geto accuses, taking his hand off of you for a second to send a jab into gojo’s side, “i know you’re getting off on watching this ditzy blonde getting laid.”

“not true,” gojo retorts childishly, “i think there’s better sights to get off on, isn’t that right?” he finishes casting his eyes, not so subtly, over to you.

“well i can’t lie and say the sights aren’t… appealing,” geto grins his hands coming back on you, toying with the hem of your shirt.

“you two are such guys,” you laugh, trying to remain nonchalant even though on the inside the pace of your heart was quickening, and every touch of their fingers sends jolts straight to your core. “you’re focusing on the wrong things here.”

“and what should we be focusing on here?” geto murmurs at you, you couldn’t see his face but you knew a smirk was plastered across it. his challenge hangs in the air as you pause, hesitating as you scan the room, your eyes meeting gojo’s trying to gauge if they are thinking what you are. geto can sense your hesitation as he feels your breathing still as you lean against him, so he pulls his finger under your chin turning your head to face him. “let us focus on you, come here.”

you lean in, his lips enclosing on yours in a deep kiss, you turn your body almost straddling him so you could get better access. his tongue enters your mouth, as his hands work down your body, and as the kiss intensifies, you’re aware of gojo’s gaze on you. you extend an inviting hand toward him, flashing him a smile as you pull away from geto and set your lips on your other friend.

gojo groans as your lips work with his, and his hands go straight into his pants, fisting his dick that has been hard all night just at the sight of you. geto cascades kisses down your neck as he starts to pull your shirt up off of you, you gasp at the feeling of both of their hands and lips all over you.

“h-how long have you two been planning this one then, huh?” you grin, a laugh escaping through your moans, as you let geto get rid of your shirt, assisting gojo with taking off your pants. 

“how long have we known you?” geto responds rhetorically, and gojo nod in agreement, as they both take off their jogging bottoms, leaving you all sitting on the couch in your underwear. there is no more hesitation, or uncertainty between you three—you all know exactly what you want.

“so who gets to have me first?” you joke, your eyes darting between the two of them, their lustful eyes are unmistakable as they stare at your body, their dicks straining against their boxers ready to be suffocated by your tight pussy.

“i get to!” gojo sputters out quickly, but he’s not as swift as geto who’s already pulled you back onto him, his fingers pushing into you without any warning. your mouth parts, as you let out a whine, as his long digits give your pussy fast, relentless strokes, he adds another finger, smirking as your body buckles against his. “hey no fair!” gojo pouts, side eyeing geto, but he can’t help biting his lip as he hears your cunt squelch everytime his best friend shoves his fingers into it.

“don’t worry, ‘toru,” geto reassures, his fingers curling up into you before he pulls it out swiftly, spreading your pussy apart and giving gojo a knowing look, “there’s room for the both of us.”

gojo eagerly drives his fingers into you from behind, his body pressing against yours as he charges your fingers into you. your moans increase as you feel a flurry of digits explore your pussy, gojo’s hand grips on his shoulder and geto hand holds your waist as they both tug your body back and forth in an attempt to get you closer to them.

“s-shit” you cry out, as you clench around their fingers, trying to keep them inside of you. you grind down against both of their fingers, your whimpers encouraging them to twist and push their fingers deeper into you.

“you see how much of a mess she gets for us?” geto asks gojo with a low chuckle, and gojo nods, smiling as the wetness of your pussy allows for his fingers to slide into you with ease, “press down on her clit. hard.”

“don’t tell me what to do,” gojo mutters, but he does it anyway. his thumb going straight to your clit, pushing down on it, smirking as you groan your back arching right into him. 

“see i told you,” geto chimes, laughing as gojo glares at him. geto’s focus shifts to you, as he pulls his fingers out of you, bringing them to your mouth, he holds your chin, placing his thumb on your bottom lip as he raises his eyebrows at you for permission. you nod lazily, opening your mouth, accepting two of his fingers —which are drenched in your juices. “‘toru, you gonna finish her off for me.”

gojo smirks, his fingers working in overdrive, as he adds another digit inside of you and you could feel yourself about to release. geto can tell you're close from the way you bite down on his fingers. “you close? you gonna cum on satoru’s fingers as you taste yourself?”

you couldn’t even respond, as your cum sprays all over gojo’s fingers and geto’s stomach. the boys both smirk at each other, as they hear your high pitched moans and see heaps of your cum spilling out of your pussy running down your thighs. gojo is in awe, his fingers still remain in you and he pushes them up lazily, trying to keep you plugged with your cum. you relax onto his fingers, letting him do as he pleases, as you try and catch your breath your body slumping onto geto’s.

“you did so well,” geto praises in his air, lifting up your head off your chest, pecking your lips softly. “you took both of our fingers letting us stretch your tight pussy, it felt good didn’t it?” 

“y-yeah it felt so good sugu,” you sigh, turning your head to face gojo, as you pull him closer into you, “you both felt so good.”

“you wanna let us stuff you further?” gojo questions eagerly, his hard dick resting on your ass, as rocks against you.

“satoru,” geto reprimands, shaking his head at his friends over excitement. but gojo shoots him a look shrugging as he presses his face into the crook of your neck, practically inhaling you.

“but suguru, she wants us both to stuff her,” he argues, as fingers already go back to your sobbing cunt. “you want that dont you?” he whispers, directly in your ear, slowly coaxing your pussy with soft strokes as he murmurs in your ear. “you want me and sugu to shove our dicks right up your pussy, together.”

“i don’t know if i can…” you hesitate, your voice faltering, but you pull your lip between your teeth, closing your eyes as you think about taking both of them.

“c’mon pretty girl,” geto persuades you, forcing you to open your eyes and look at the teasing smirk on your face, “don’t think we don’t know how slutty you can be. you know your greedy little cunt take both of us with ease, and you want it to, don't you?” you nod your head slowly in agreement, but geto shakes his, “no, we need to hear you say it. use your words. tell us what you want.”

“i want your dicks to stuff my pussy,” you admit, feeling your confidence grow as the smirk on geto’s face widens and you can hear gojo lowly growl in your ear. “i need it.”

“well we have to give our girl what she wants, right sugu?” gojo taunts, pulling you off of gojo and onto his lap, his dick slaps against your pussy. “suguru got to see your pretty face, before, so this time you’re all mine, okay?” gojo says to you, and you could hear geto kiss his teeth, but he obliges letting gojo have his way this time. 

“you ready for me?” gojo asks, waiting for your approval as he lifts you up slightly over his dick, he even looks over to geto he leans back against the couch, with his dick in his hand. you don’t even answer gojo, sliding down onto gojo as you moan together.

geto fists his dick at the sight, “go on satoru, fuck her,” he orders, his strokes increasing as he watches as gojo begin to thrust into you. your hands press down on gojo’s shoulder’s as you start to bounce on him, you lean forward whining straight in his ear, causing him fuck you harder.

gojo plays with your bra strap, pulling it and letting it release against your shoulder, “i don’t know why you’ve still got this on,” he complains, as brings his hands to the clasp of your bra, undoing it. your tits bounce as he pulls off your bra, and both boys smile at the sight. gojo’s fingers pull against both of your nipples, twisting and pulling at them causing you to cry at every tug. “so sensitive,” he mutters to himself, touching your tits inquisitively as he continues to toy with them, loving how with every touch your cries grow louder.

“it’s crazy how we stretched you so well earlier, but your pussy is still tight as fuck,” gojo comments, his words punctuated with every thrust. “i had all my fingers inside of you already, but your cock hungry cunt just can’t seem to get enough.”

“is he fucking you good?” geto calls, feeling himself about to cum, as he rubs against his dick hard. you look over to him and smile, nodding quickly as you wrap your hands around gojos neck, clinging to him as his dick drives into you. geto stands up, coming up behind you pressing a kiss on your neck, “you need me to help get you off?”

“she doesn’t need anything from you, i’m doing just fine,” gojo mumbles, but he lets you slightly raise up off of his dick and he smirks as he feels geto join him, geto’s dick presses against gojo in excitement as they wait in anticipation for you to enclose them with your pussy. 

“don’t be nervous,” geto coos from behind you, nipping at your ear. you look at gojo and he gives you an encouraging nod, and you slide back down onto them hissing in slight pain as you feel them both enter you. “it’s okay pretty, you’re doing so so well,” geto continues to reassure you, pressing soothing kisses down your neck, his lips sucking at your flesh. you all pause as you fully take them both in, and you feel the pain subside smiling at gojo giving him permission to move. 

geto follows suit, and you all move in tandem, fucking against each other. gojo places his hands on your ass, pushing your cheeks in pace with his movements whereas geto’s hands cup your tits, holding them firmly as he spreads his fingers over your nipples, rolling them.

“fu-fuck you two are too big, you can’t” you whine, clawing against gojo’s chest. they were both drilling into you relentlessly, you couldn’t catch your breath as every second you were being double stuffed with dick. tears spring to your eyes, as you cry out in pleasure, grinding down against them trying to get as much as them as possible. 

“if only you could see how slutty our girl looks,” gojo says to geto, as he watches your head fall back, another moan escaping your lips. “her eyes are all glossed over, she’s fucking crying, all slutted out on our dicks right now.”

“is that so?” geto mutters, he forces himself into you deeper, his back hitching up against yours, his clench on your tits tightening as he inches himself in your pussy, his hips slapping against you. “she’s such a good slut, i knew she’d be able to take us well, and look she’s loving it, already creaming all over us, isn’t that baby?”

you nod, your hand coming up to hold geto’s head as he nestles into your neck. you were losing your train of thought, you wanted to tell them how good they felt, how their dicks rubbing against each other in you was all you needed for the rest of you life, but when you open your mouth all that can leave your lips is incoherent words and moans. 

both of them smile, watching as you come undone on their dicks. gojo gives geto a nod, and their hands trade places. gojos fingers coming back to your tits, rubbing and pushing them apart before lowering his head to your chest, nuzzling your boobs. gojo and geto were so close that some things between them didn’t need to be spoken, and they were so close to you that they knew your body in and out. they knew when to push and pull, and where to suck just to get you cumming their lap.

“i’m s-so close, i’m gonna cu—” you try and speak out, but your mind is too far gone for you to finish. their dicks slip out of you as your bounces become sloppy, the pleasure too much for you but geto forces you back muttering reassurance in your neck. and the sudden contact causes you to cum, you release all over both them, but they don’t stop their movements, their dicks driving into you still, pushing back in all the cum you were letting out.

“satoru, we gonna give our girl one final stuffing?” geto prompts, and gojo nods, they both give you one final push and you could feel your pussy stretch as their cum sprays your walls. you wail out, the tears streaming your face as your body jerks forward, feeling their dicks go limp inside of you as you all pant in pleasure.

“that was fucking amazing,” gojo praises, a blissful smile on his face as he leans back his head resting on his arms. you return his smile, your lips meeting his in a quick kiss, that he groans at as you pull away. you come off his dick slowly, all of your eyes staring at the ropes of cum that immediately spill out of your pussy as he unplugs you. 

geto turns your head to face him, his dick still lodged deeply inside of you, he pulls you into a long kiss, his mouth smothering yours. he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth, roughly biting down on it before releasing you, his hand cupping your chin, forcing you to stare up at him “you’re mine, my pretty slutty mess.”

“um she’s ours,” gojo chimes in, but geto shrugs, not caring to listen to your other friend. geto, finally pulls you off his dick, and your pussy clenches around nothing, already missing the feeling of their dicks.

“you too always know to take good care of me,” you exhale, exhausted your pussy sore about being stretched open by the two of them. geto pulls you back into his original hold, leaning back against his chest, and your legs stretch over gojo’s lap. but this time instead of innocent gentle touches, geto’s hands lazily tug at your nipples, and gojo caresses your naked thighs, his fingers flicking at your clit every now and again.

“that’s what friends are for,” geto muses, pressing his lips against your cheek before saying, “now satoru, are you gonna press play on this shitty movie or what?”

AN: ight so there you have it my FIRST FIC of kinktober, what do you guys think I need to hear all your thoughts since Ooooof this took me so long to write. so I hope it is worth it. also if you see my bias towards geto during this then LOOK AWAY, im sorry gojo stans but im a geto lover foreverrr. but yeahhh lmk ur thoughts stay tuned for my other kink tober fics which WILL be on time I promise smooches.

[guilty-ff]

𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐏𝐭.4

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 ˚⁎⁺˳ .

Previously: Y/N, restrained and tortured, learns from Francis that her regeneration causes others to suffer in her place. As the pain intensifies, she weakly mutters his name before passing out.

This story takes place between the second and third movies (warning: not 100% movie/comic accurate)

Pairing: Wade Wilson/Deadpool x Reader

Genre: Angst, revenge, Fanfiction, Marvel

Warnings: Movie Spoilers! Explicit content, swearing, torture, mental health, weapons

Word count: 3927

Wade was a broken man, trapped in a relentless cycle of despair and obsession. His life, once marked by chaos and humor, had become an endless string of sleepless nights and futile searches.

The warehouse, which had once been a safe place of his independence and creativity, was now a pitiful reflection of his deteriorating mental state. It was cluttered with stacks of documents, photographs pinned disorganised on the walls, and maps dotted with red circles and frantic scribbles. Every inch of the space was covered in evidence of his failed search for Y/n, and the air was stuffy with the odor of stale coffee and unwashed clothes.

Wade's physical appearance mirrored his mental decline. He had lost weight, his once muscular frame now gaunt and sickly. His suit, once his pride, was now old and stained. The red and black fabric was faded, a wretched testament to his endless struggles.

His face, usually masked by his signature humor, was now painted with deep lines of exhaustion and despair. His eyes, once sharp and full of mischief, were now hollow and bloodshot, reflecting the sleepless nights and relentless guilt that hunted him.

The daily routine was monotonous and the same.

Wade would spend hours looking over the maps and documents, his fingers stained with ink and coffee. He would pace the warehouse, muttering to himself as he memorised every detail of his search. The endless cycle of hope and disappointment had messed up his sanity. Every time a lead turned out to be a dead end, it felt like another nail in his coffin.

Weasel had tried everything to break through to him. He had been by Wade's side through every failed attempt, every new lead that went nowhere. But as the years wore on, his patience began to wear thin.

Dopinder, too, had grown weary. He had watched Wade's descent into obsession with a heavy heart, and the silence in Altheas apartment was often emphasised by the sound of Weasel's frustrated sighs.

One evening, after yet another dead-end search, Weasel finally exploded. His face was flushed with anger and exhaustion as he stormed into the room. The narrow space, filled with the waste of Wade's obsessive quest, seemed to close in around him.

He slammed a stack of papers onto the table, the documents scattering and fluttering across the floor. "Wade, this is fucking insane!" he yelled, his voice cutting through the oppressive silence. "We've been at this for years! We've gone through every fucking corner of this city and beyond, and there's nothing. She's gone. You need to accept that!"

Wade, hunched over the table, looked up with hollow eyes. His face was pale, his expression a mix of desperation and confrontation. "Don't you fucking tell me that! She's out there. I know it. I can feel it. I promised I'd protect her. I can't just fucking let go."

Dopinder, who had been standing quietly, finally spoke. His voice was steady but laced with frustration. "Sir, he's right. This obsession is making you lose your mind. As you know, I once felt similar to Gita because of my cousin. It's time to face reality. Kidnapping Bandhu and going after her as you told me was not the move. She's not coming back."

Wade's face twisted in torment. "I can't stop. I made a promise to her. I have to keep looking. If I stop, it means I failed her."

Weasel's anger softened into a weary sadness.

"Wade, look at yourself. You're barely holding it together. This obsession is destroying you. It's okay to accept that she's gone. You can't keep going like this."

The argument had reached a fever pitch when Althea, arrived unannounced. She entered the room with a smirk sensing a suffocating atmosphere.

"Well, well, well," Althea drawled, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Look at you, Wade. You're like a fucking stray dog, clawing at every lead and getting nowhere. Pathetic, really. You've been digging through garbage for years, and what do you have to show for it? Nothing but a dirty room and a broken spirit."

Wade's eyes flared with anger and pain. "Shut up, Althea. You have no idea what this is like."

"Oh, I have an idea. You're just like a cockroach, scuttling around in the dark, hoping for a crumb. And look at you now- your obsession has turned you into a fucking joke. A pitiful, little joke."

The cruel words cut deep. Wade's resolve finally began to crumble under the weight of his guilt and the relentless pressure from his friends. He slumped into a chair, his body shaking with the intensity of his emotions. Tears streamed down his face as he realized the immensity of his failure.

Weasel placed a hand on Wade's shoulder, his voice soft but firm. "You did everything you could. It's time to take care of yourself. You've been searching for years. It's okay to let go."

Wade's voice was a broken whisper. "Fine. Fine. She's dead. I get it. She's gone." The admission felt like a knife twisting in his gut. "I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry."

The room fell into a heavy silence. He sat alone in the dim light of the warehouse, feeling a hollow emptiness that no amount of searching could fill. The dream of finding Y/n and making things right had ended in crushing defeat.

Guilt catching up on him, eating away at whatever was left of his sanity. He should have been there for her, should have protected her. He would failed her, just like he had failed Vanessa.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•

As Wade's search faded into a resigned acceptance of her death, Y/N's reality became one of unending horror.

Francis, the man responsible for her capture, took pleasure in her suffering, using her as a pawn in his twisted game of revenge against Wade.

The sterile, metallic walls of her prison reflected her pain back at her, a constant reminder of the nightmare she could not escape. And as the torture escalated, so too did her resolve- she would survive this, if only to make sure Francis paid for what he had done.

Each day, Francis would enter, his footsteps echoing down the corridor before the door creaked open. He was always methodical, almost clinical in his approach, but his eyes betrayed a sadistic pleasure in what he was about to do.

He would start with the physical pain.

The tools varied- sometimes it was the sharp blade of a scalpel, cutting into her flesh; other times, it was the searing burn of heated metal pressed against her skin, leaving behind the burned smell of charred flesh.

But no matter how much she bled or how deeply the burns seared, Francis always had more in store for her, never satisfied with just one form of torture.

As Francis stood over her, his expression cold and unfeeling, a stark contrast to the cruel image that flickered in his eyes. His hands moved quickly as he secured the straps around her wrists and ankles, ensuring she could not move even an inch. Y/n's breaths were shallow and weak, each one a reminder of the agony her body had endured.

"Comfortable?" Francis asked, his voice dripping with mockery. He leaned over her, his face close enough that she could see the sick pleasure in his eyes.

Y/n managed to muster a weak glare, her voice a raspy whisper, "Go to hell."

He smiled, a cold, predatory grin that made her stomach turn. "Oh, we're already there, sweetheart." He nodded to one of his servants, who stepped forward with a large, filthy rag and a bucket of water. The sight of the bucket made Y/n's heart race, a surge of primal fear washing over her.

"Let's see how long you can hold your breath," Francis said, his tone almost casual, like they were discussing the weather.

The servant threw the rag over Y/n's face, the old fabric scraping against her raw skin. Her world became dark, the air around her thick and suffocating. Panic set in immediately, her body instinctively struggling against the restraints, but it was useless. She was trapped, helpless beneath the weight of the rag and the knowledge of what was coming next.

Francis stepped back, savoring the moment before giving a slight nod. The servant tilted the bucket, and the water poured out in a steady stream, soaking the rag and filling her mouth and nose. It was cold, a shock to her already trembling body, but that was quickly replaced by a more immediate terror.

Y/n exhausted, her body screaming for air, but all she could do was choke on the water. It felt like she was drowning, like her lungs were filling with liquid fire. Her mind screamed at her to breathe, to cough, to do anything to expel the water, but it was impossible. The rag was an unforgiving barrier, the water relentless as it flooded her senses.

"Do you know what the worst part is, Y/n?" Francis's voice cut through the roaring in her ears, his tone conversational as if they were chatting over tea.

"Wade's not coming for you. He's probably already forgotten you, moved on to the next whore who'll get caught up in his mess. You're nothing to him now. Just another casualty of his fucked-up life."

His words were a blade, slicing through the last threads of her resolve. Y/n wanted to scream, to tell him he was wrong, but all she could do was gag on the water that filled her throat, her body arching off the table in a desperate attempt to escape the suffocating torture.

Francis watched her struggle with cold detachment, his hands clasped behind his back. "He's not worth this, you know," he continued, his voice low and insidious. "You're suffering for nothing. For a man who doesn't even have the decency to keep searching for you. How long do you think you've been here, Y/n? Days? Months? Years?"

Her mind spun, disoriented by the lack of oxygen and the overwhelming need to breathe. Time had lost all meaning in this place, each moment stretching into an eternity of pain and fear. She did not know how long she had been here, but it felt like forever. And the thought that Wade had given up on her, that he had moved on... it was a torture all its own.

Francis nodded again, and the water stopped. The rag was ripped away, and Y/n gasped, coughing violently as her lungs finally found air. Her body shaken violently, trying to dodge the water that had nearly drowned her, each breath a ragged, painful gasp.

But Francis was not done. He leaned down, his face close to hers, his voice a poisonous whisper. "He's not coming for you. No one is. You're all alone, Y/n. And this... this is your life now."

Her chest heaved as she struggled to breathe, her body trembling with exhaustion and fear. But somewhere deep inside, buried beneath the pain and terror, a spark of defiance still flickered. She would not let him break her. Not like this.

Y/n turned her head, her eyes meeting his with a fierce determination. "Fuck... you," she spat, her voice hoarse but filled with venom.

Francis straightened, a cold smile tugging at his lips. "We'll see how long that fire lasts," he said, stepping back as the servant prepared for the next round of water.

And as the rag was placed over her face once more, Y/n braced herself for the flood, for the darkness that threatened to consume her. But she would hold on to that little hope, no matter how small it was. Because it was all she had left.

Days turned into a blur of pain and despair. The cycle of waterboarding became just one of many methods Francis employed to break her spirit. The physical torment was relentless, but it was the psychological warfare that truly triggered her. He seemed to take a perverse pleasure in ensuring that she remained as mentally shattered as she was physically.

Francis knew how to break a person from the inside out. He was a master of manipulation, weaving a web of lies and half truths designed to trigger her spirit.

He would lean in close, his breath hot against her ear as he whispered cruel taunts. "You really thought Wade would come for you?". He would say, his voice dripping with malice.

His words were like poison, getting into her mind, making her question everything she had believed. She tried to resist, to cling to the hope that Wade was still out there, searching for her, but with each passing day, that hope vanished.

The isolation, the constant pain, and the relentless psychological assault began to wear her down. Francis took every opportunity to remind her of how alone she was, how forgotten she had become.

He had a way of getting inside her head, twisting her thoughts until she did not know what was real anymore. He played mind games with her, altering the timing of her torture sessions so she could never expect when the next wave of pain would come. Sometimes he would leave her in darkness for days, the silence broken only by the distant echoes of other prisoners' screams, a constant reminder of her own doom.

As the years dragged on, Y/n changed. She had lost track of how long she had been trapped in that hellhole. The days had bled together in a blur of agony and despair. The torture had done more than scar her body- it had twisted her mind, turning her into something she barely recognized.

The physical pain was constant, but it was the psychological torment that truly broke her. The things Francis had done to her, the things he had made her believe about Wade, had planted a seed of hatred in her heart, one that grew with every day of her captivity.

The isolation was suffocating. Y/n found herself questioning her own memories, her own worth. The lines between reality and the lies Francis fed her began to blur. She started to believe that Wade had forgotten her, that she was not worth saving. The thought of him moving on, living a life without her, filled her with a rage she had never known before- a rage that Francis eagerly thrilled.

Six years had passed in a relentless blur of pain and suffering since the accident, leaving Y/n in the dark, cramped cell. Her bruised body and broken spirit showed the unending cruelty she had endured.

The cell was a dark, oppressive space, highlighted only by a sliver of moonlight that struggled through a foggy window. Y/n laid crumpled on the cold concrete floor, her body twisted in exhaustion.

The air was heavy, the stench of old blood and sweat mingling with the scent of despair. Her clothes, once white, were now an old and torn mess, barely clinging to her damaged frame. Her skin was marked with bruises and burns, each one a testament to the relentless cruelty she had faced.

Breathing was a struggle, each inhale short and shallow, as if her lungs were weighed down by the enormity of her torture. Her eyes, hollow and unfocused, drifted across the cracked walls. She mumbled to herself, her voice barely more than a whisper, choked by the weight of her guilt and despair.

"They're... they're suffering because of me," she murmured, her voice breaking with the weight of her own realization. "They're dying... and I'm... I'm still here..."

Her thoughts were a mess, separated by the horror she had endured and witnessed. The echoes of distant screams and cries seemed to mess with her mind, though she knew they were not her own. Each cry, each plea for help, was a stark reminder of the suffering she had become intertwined in.

She tried to push away the images and sounds of others' suffering, but they seemed to get into her consciousness, an unending reminder of the pain she had without intention caused.

"Why... why can't I stop this?" she mumbled, her voice stammering. "Why am I the one who's still alive, when they... they're not?"

She felt a intense sense of disconnection from reality, as if the walls of her cell were closing in on her, pressing her down with the weight of her guilt. The thought that her continued survival meant the maintenance of others' suffering was unbearable. She was a vessel of pain, a curse that dragged others into hell with her.

In the silence of her cell, the only sound was her quiet mumbling and the occasional shudder of her body. Her thoughts swirled in a chaotic blur, a never- ending loop of self-blame and guilt. Despite the crushing weight of her situation, a small, flickering hope remained. It was this tiny spark, barely noticeable that drove her to plan her escape.

The day of Y/n's escape had finally arrived, though its outcome remained uncertain. Her heart pounded in her chest as the guards dragged her into a dark metal room, the weight of her chains clinking with every step.

As she was forced to lay on the cold metal table, her body trembling from the effects of the latest torture, a spark of resistance still burned within her.

They had locked her in a small, dark box this time, the temperature slowly dropping until she could see her breath in the air, until her fingers went numb and her teeth chattered uncontrollably.

The cold seeped into her bones, turning her blood to ice. She could feel the frost forming on her skin, tiny crystals of ice biting into her flesh. It hurt- God, it hurt- but she refused to scream. Screaming would only give them the satisfaction of knowing they had won.

The box was so small that she could not move, could not even shift her position to relieve the pressure on her aching joints. The darkness was suffocating, pressing in on her from all sides. She could not see anything, could not hear anything but the faint sound of her own breathing, growing shallower as the cold tightened its grip on her lungs. She focused on that sound, using it to ground herself, to keep from slipping into the abyss of madness that threatened to consume her.

When they finally pulled her out, her body was shaking so badly that she could barely stand. They threw her back onto the table, chaining her wrists and ankles so tightly that the metal bit into her skin. She could feel the blood trickling down her arms, warm against the chill that still clung to her. Francis stood over her, a smug smile on his face as he looked down at her shivering form.

"You're stronger than I expected," he said, his voice cold and clinical. "But everyone breaks eventually. It's just a matter of time."

Y/n did not respond. She did not have the strength to. She lay there, her chest rising and falling in shallow, rapid breaths, her eyes half-closed. To Francis, she looked like she was on the brink of passing out, just another victim of his sadistic games. But Y/n was far from unconscious. She was waiting.

Francis turned away, motioning for the guards to prepare her for the next round of torture. They moved around her, their footsteps heavy on the concrete floor. Y/n waited until one of them leaned in close, unlocking the chain around her wrist. In that split second, she struck.

With a surge of adrenaline-fueled strength, she grabbed the guard's arm and yanked it toward her, using his own momentum to pull him off balance. Her hand found the sharp shard of ice she had hidden, formed from the frost that had coated her body during the freezing torture.

She drove it into his throat with all the force she could muster. The man gurgled, blood spurting from the wound as he collapsed to the ground, the life draining from his eyes.

"Fuck, she broke ou-"

The second guard barely had time to react before she was on him, the makeshift weapon flashing in the dim light as she drove it into his chest. He staggered back, clutching at the wound as blood poured from between his fingers. Y/n did not stop to watch him fall. She was already moving, her body fueled by a desperate, animalistic need to survive.

Francis turned, his eyes widening in shock as he saw her standing over the bodies of his guards, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "You-" he started, but she did not give him a chance to finish. She lunged at him, the ice shard slicing through the air, aiming for his throat. But Francis was quicker than she had anticipated. He dodged to the side, catching her wrist in a vice-like grip.

She struggled, but he was stronger, his hand tightening around her wrist until she could feel the bones grinding together. Pain shot up her arm, but she refused to let go of the shard. She twisted, bringing her knee up into his gut. He grunted, loosening his grip just enough for her to pull free.

Y/n did not waste any time. She turned and ran, her bare feet slapping against the cold floor as she sprinted down the hallway. She could hear Francis shouting behind her, calling for more guards, but she did not stop. She did not look back. All she could think about was getting out, getting away from this place and the horrors it held.

The facility was a labyrinth of sterile hallways and locked doors, but she knew it well. She had been dragged through these corridors enough times to memorize every turn, every exit. Her breath was coming in ragged gasps, her lungs burning with the effort, but she pushed herself harder, refusing to let the exhaustion slow her down.

Finally, she burst through a door and into the open air. The night was cold, the sky a dark, starless void above her. But the chill was a welcome relief after the suffocating confines of the facility. She did not stop running, her feet pounding against the ground as she made her way toward the fence that surrounded the compound.

She could hear the guards behind her, their shouts growing louder as they closed in. But she did not care. She was almost there, almost free. With a final burst of strength, she launched herself at the fence, scrambling up the chain-link like a wild animal. Her hands were slick with blood and sweat, making it hard to keep her grip, but she refused to let go. She hauled herself over the top, her body crashing to the ground on the other side with a painful thud.

She did not stop. She could not. Ignoring the pain that shot through her limbs, she pushed herself to her feet and started running again, disappearing into the night, leaving the facility and Francis behind.

But the damage had been done.

As she ran through the darkened forest, the memories of the past years haunted her, flashing before her eyes like a twisted film reel. The torture, the pain, the manipulation- they had all left their mark on her. She was no longer the woman she had been when she first entered that facility. That woman was dead, buried beneath the layers of trauma and hatred that now consumed her.

And as she ran, one thought burned brighter than all the others: Wade Wilson had abandoned her. He had left her to suffer, to be broken by Francis and him.

[m4rv3l-girl]

Movie Night

Bucky x Y/N

Movie night can sometimes require a bit too much concentration for Bucky..

Requests Open!

Warnings: Some kissing - nothing crazy

Bucky had always been a man of few words, but when it came to Y/N, his affection was loud and clear in every soft look, gentle touch, and, of course, his pet names. Tonight was no different. He watched her from the kitchen, his eyes full of warmth as she settled herself on the couch, tucking a blanket around her legs with a small yawn.

“Movie time, huh, kitten?” he called out, the hint of a smile playing on his lips.

Y/N glanced over her shoulder at him, an amused grin spreading across her face as she raised the popcorn bowl in her hands like a trophy. “Can’t have a movie night without popcorn, can we?”

Bucky chuckled softly, drying his hands on a dishtowel before walking over to her, his heavy boots thudding softly on the wooden floor. “You sure you want a movie, doll? Thought you wanted me all to yourself tonight.”

There it was—the first flicker of mischief in his tone. Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, but her heart did a little flip at the way his voice dropped when he called her “doll.” It always did.

“Maybe I do,” she teased back, patting the spot next to her on the couch. “But I can multitask.”

“Yeah?” Bucky’s eyebrow quirked as he plopped down beside her, the couch dipping under his weight. He stretched his arm along the back of the couch, draping it lazily across Y/N’s shoulders. “Alright, let’s see what we’ve got.”

Y/N leaned forward, picking up the remote from the coffee table and scrolling through the endless list of options. Bucky leaned in closer, his breath tickling the back of her neck. He wasn’t being subtle, not one bit, and that was exactly how she liked it.

“You’re not even looking at the screen, Bucky,” she pointed out, pretending to be unimpressed, though the little flutter in her chest betrayed her.

“Oh, I’m looking at something much better,” he murmured into her ear, his lips brushing the shell of it. A shiver ran down her spine, and Y/N bit her lip to keep from grinning like a fool.

“Focus,” she warned, clicking on an action movie that was way more his style than hers. But Bucky was barely paying attention to the screen; his hand had started to trace lazy circles on her shoulder, and Y/N could feel the weight of his gaze on her.

“I am focused,” Bucky countered, leaning in even closer, his metal arm glinting in the dim light of the living room as it settled on her thigh, giving it a light squeeze. “Just… not on the movie.”

Y/N swatted at his hand playfully, shaking her head.

As the movie started, Y/N tried—really tried—to focus on the fast-paced action playing out on the screen, but Bucky had other ideas. His fingers continued their featherlight journey across her skin, brushing along her collarbone before traveling lower, down her arm. Every touch was slow, deliberate, sending tiny sparks through her body.

“Bucky…” Y/N half-groaned, half-laughed, her voice a mixture of amusement and exasperation. “We’re supposed to be watching the movie.”

“I am watching,” he defended, though the smirk tugging at his lips gave him away. “Just watching something way more interesting than some car chase.”

Y/N bit back another smile, leaning her head back to look up at him. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Bucky’s grin widened, and in one smooth movement, he tugged her closer, pulling her so her back was against his chest. “Maybe, but you love me anyway, darlin’.”

She could hear the affection in his voice, soft and sincere, even under the teasing. Y/N settled into the warmth of him, the steady beat of his heart against her back comforting as she pretended to be annoyed.

“I was looking forward to this movie,” she mumbled, though the way her body melted into his was proof enough that she wasn’t too upset about the change in plans.

Bucky chuckled, his chest rumbling against her. “I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”

“And how exactly are you going to do that?” she asked, unable to stop herself from smiling as she turned her head slightly to look at him.

“Oh, I’ve got a few ideas,” he said, his voice low, with that unmistakable suggestiveness. “But I can show you better than I can tell you, kitten.”

Y/N’s pulse quickened at the look in his eyes, but before she could reply, his lips were on hers, soft and slow, taking his time as if savoring every second. Her fingers instinctively curled into the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer as the kiss deepened, all thoughts of the movie forgotten.

When they finally broke apart, both a little breathless, Bucky gave her that crooked smile she loved so much. “You’re way more fun than any movie, doll.”

She giggled softly, shaking her head. “Flatterer.”

“Just speaking the truth,” he murmured, pressing another kiss to her forehead before shifting them both so they were lying back on the couch. Y/N ended up half on top of him, her head resting on his chest as his metal arm wrapped around her waist, holding her close.

For a while, they just stayed like that, the quiet hum of the movie in the background barely registering as Bucky’s fingers traced absentminded patterns on her lower back. Y/N closed her eyes, content and cozy, soaking in the warmth and safety of being in his arms.

It wasn’t until Bucky shifted slightly beneath her that Y/N remembered something. She raised her head, meeting his curious gaze with a small smirk.

“Weren’t you supposed to make it up to me?” she asked, a playful glint in her eyes.

Bucky’s brows lifted, an amused chuckle escaping him. “What? That kiss wasn’t enough for you, darlin’?”

She grinned, propping herself up on her elbows so she could look down at him properly. “I’m greedy.”

“Oh, I know,” he teased, his metal hand sliding up her back in a way that made her shiver. “But I kinda like that about you.”

Before she could respond, Bucky flipped them over in one swift motion, pinning her beneath him with a grin that could only be described as devilish. Y/N’s heart raced, but it wasn’t from fear—she trusted him completely.

“You know what your problem is, kitten?” he asked, his lips hovering just above hers as he spoke.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her breath hitching. “What’s that?”

“You think you’re in control here,” Bucky murmured, his lips ghosting over hers, barely touching.

She huffed a soft laugh, her hands sliding up to rest on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heart beneath her palms. “And you think you are?”

Bucky’s smile widened, and with a sudden surge of energy, he kissed her again, this time with more intensity, more purpose. Y/N melted into it, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer, deepening the kiss until they were both breathing hard, their bodies pressed together in a way that left no space between them.

When they finally parted, Bucky leaned his forehead against hers, his voice rough with affection. “You’re my best girl, you know that?”

Y/N’s heart swelled at his words, and she nodded, her fingers gently brushing through his hair. “I know.”

He kissed her again, slower this time, as if they had all the time in the world—and for the two of them, maybe they did. Every moment with Bucky felt like its own little eternity, wrapped in warmth and affection.

Eventually, the teasing and playful energy softened into something more tender as they settled back down into the couch, Bucky pulling the blanket over them both as they snuggled close.

The movie still played in the background, though neither of them paid much attention to it. Instead, they found comfort in each other, Bucky’s arm wrapped around Y/N protectively as she rested her head on his chest, their breathing slowing in sync.

And as the night wore on, full of stolen kisses and whispered endearments, Bucky couldn’t help but smile, knowing that no matter what chaos the world threw their way, moments like these were what made everything worth it.

After all, he had his best girl right beside him—and that was all he needed.

[cool-fancier]

Whispers in the Night

Synopsis: In a cozy apartment, two lovers' quiet movie night turns into an unexpected, tantalizing game of desire, testing their willpower and deepening their connection.

Word count: 2.1K

You met Rosé during your sophomore year of college. Both of you were attending a late-night study session in the campus library. The room was filled with students hunched over their laptops and textbooks, but amidst the sea of stressed faces, Rosé’s calm demeanor caught your eye. She was sitting across the room, casually flipping through a novel that seemed far too interesting to be anything related to your shared physics class.

Curiosity got the better of you, and you found yourself walking over to her table. “What’s so interesting?” you asked, pointing at the book. Rosé looked up, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Just a little escape from reality,” she replied, showing you the cover of a fantasy novel.

Her voice was soft, melodic, instantly drawing you in. You smiled, feeling a strange sense of comfort in her presence. “Mind if I join you? I could use an escape too.”

“Not at all,” she said, gesturing to the empty chair beside her. “I’m Rosé, by the way.”

“I’m Y/n” you replied, taking the seat. “Nice to meet you.”

That night, you ended up talking more than studying, sharing your interests and dreams. You learned that Rosé was a literature major, passionate about storytelling and poetry. She loved the way words could paint pictures and evoke emotions. You shared your fascination with science, explaining how the universe's mysteries captivated you.

Over time, study sessions turned into coffee dates. One rainy afternoon, while you were both huddled under a shared umbrella, Rosé looked up at you, her eyes filled with a mixture of uncertainty and hope.

“I think I’m falling for you,” she admitted, her cheeks turning a soft shade of pink.

Your heart swelled with emotion, and without thinking, you leaned down and kissed her. The rain poured around you, but in that moment, you felt warm and safe, as if nothing else mattered.

Now, a year into your relationship, you had moved in together into a cozy apartment near campus. Life was good, filled with mutual support and endless affection. Tonight, you planned to have a quiet evening together, watching TV and enjoying each other’s company.

— — — — —

The soft glow of the television cast a warm light across the living room as you and Rosé cuddled on the couch. Her head rested on your shoulder, and you could feel the steady rise and fall of her breathing. The movie playing on the screen was a romantic comedy, the kind you both loved to mock but secretly enjoyed.

You traced your fingers lightly over Rosé’s arm, feeling the softness of her skin. She shivered slightly, snuggling closer to you. Her scent, a mix of vanilla and lavender, filled your senses, making you feel more connected to her than ever.

“Hey,” you whispered, your lips brushing against her ear. “I have an idea.”

Rosé turned her head to look at you, curiosity and a hint of mischief in her eyes. “Oh? What kind of idea?”

Instead of answering, you let your hand drift lower, slipping under the hem of her shirt. Her skin was warm, and you could feel her muscles tense slightly at your touch. You leaned in, kissing her neck softly, your breath hot against her skin.

“Mmm,” she murmured, closing her eyes.

Your fingers danced across her stomach, moving slowly upwards. Rosé’s breathing grew heavier, her chest rising and falling with each breath. You could feel the anticipation building between you, a palpable tension that made your heart race.

As your hand moved higher, you grazed the underside of her breast, eliciting a soft gasp from Rosé. You paused, waiting for her reaction. She opened her eyes, looking at you with a mixture of surprise and desire.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice breathy.

“Just trying to make the movie more interesting,” you replied with a grin.

Rosé giggled, a sound that sent shivers down your spine. “I think you’re succeeding.”

Emboldened by her response, you let your hand slide further up, cupping her breast gently. Rosé moaned softly, her eyes fluttering closed again. You could feel her nipple harden under your palm, and you rubbed it lightly with your thumb, drawing another moan from her lips.

You kissed her neck again, trailing kisses down to her collarbone. Rosé arched her back slightly, pressing herself into your hand. You loved seeing her like this, so responsive to your touch.

“Shh,” you whispered, your lips brushing against her ear. “We don’t want the neighbors to hear.”

Rosé bit her lip, nodding. You could see the effort it took for her to stay quiet, and it only made you want to push her limits further. You slid your hand down her body, slipping it under the waistband of her pajama pants. Her breath hitched as your fingers found their way to her most sensitive spot.

You moved slowly, teasing her with light touches. Rosé’s hips bucked slightly, and she grabbed onto your arm, her nails digging into your skin. You watched her face, captivated by the expressions of pleasure that crossed it.

Every time Rosé’s moans grew too loud, you paused, waiting for her to regain control. It was a delicious game, one that left both of you breathless and wanting more. You loved the power you had over her, the way you could bring her to the brink of ecstasy and then pull back, leaving her desperate for release.

Rosé’s eyes opened, and she looked at you with a mixture of frustration and desire. “Please,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Don’t stop.”

You smiled, kissing her deeply. “Only if you can stay quiet,” you murmured against her lips.

Rosé nodded, her eyes filled with determination. You resumed your movements, your fingers working her expertly. You could feel her getting closer, her body trembling with anticipation. You wanted to push her over the edge, to see her come undone in your arms.

As you continued, Rosé’s breathing grew ragged, her moans turning into soft whimpers. You could tell she was struggling to stay quiet, and it only fueled your desire to make her lose control. You increased your pace, your fingers moving faster, bringing her closer and closer to the edge.

Rosé’s grip on your arm tightened, and you could feel her body tensing. She was right there, on the brink of release. You leaned in, kissing her neck, your breath hot against her skin.

“Come for me,” you whispered, your voice low and commanding.

That was all it took. Rosé’s body convulsed, her eyes squeezing shut as she reached her climax. She bit her lip to stifle her moan, her whole body trembling with the intensity of her orgasm. You held her close, your fingers still moving gently, drawing out her pleasure.

When she finally came down from her high, Rosé looked at you, her eyes filled with love and gratitude. You kissed her softly, savoring the taste of her lips.

“Wow,” she whispered, a smile playing on her lips. “That was… amazing.”

You grinned, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You were amazing.”

Rosé snuggled closer to you, resting her head on your chest. The movie played on in the background, but neither of you paid it any attention. You were lost in each other, basking in the afterglow of your shared pleasure.

— — — — —

As you held her close, Rosé shifted slightly, her hand trailing down your chest. You could see the lingering desire in her eyes, a silent plea for more. Without breaking eye contact, you slid your hand back down her body, slipping it under her pajama pants once again.

This time, you moved with purpose, your fingers delving deeper, parting her folds and finding her clit. Rosé gasped, her body arching towards you. You began to circle her clit slowly, applying just the right amount of pressure. Rosé’s breathing quickened, and she clutched at your arm, her nails digging into your skin.

You watched her face, captivated by the expressions of pleasure that crossed it. Her eyes fluttered closed, her mouth slightly open as soft moans escaped her lips. You could feel her getting wetter, her arousal coating your fingers.

“Do you like that?” you whispered, your voice husky with desire.

“Yes,” Rosé breathed, her voice trembling. “Don’t stop.”

You increased the pressure, your fingers moving faster, drawing circles around her clit. Rosé’s hips bucked against your hand, her body responding eagerly to your touch. You loved the way she moved, so in tune with your rhythm.

You leaned in, kissing her deeply, your tongue exploring her mouth as your fingers continued their relentless assault. Rosé moaned into your mouth, her body trembling with anticipation. You could feel her getting closer, her muscles tensing as she approached the edge.

Suddenly, you pulled your hand away, causing Rosé to whimper in frustration. “Why did you stop?” she asked, her voice laced with desperation.

“Because I want to taste you,” you replied, your eyes dark with desire.

Rosé’s eyes widened, and she nodded eagerly. You helped her out of her pajama pants, tossing them aside. She lay back on the couch, spreading her legs for you, her eyes filled with anticipation.

You moved between her thighs, your breath hot against her skin. You could see her glistening with arousal, the sight making your mouth water.

You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her inner thigh, savoring the taste of her skin. Rosé shivered, her legs spreading wider in invitation.

Slowly, you trailed kisses up her thigh, your lips brushing over her sensitive skin. Rosé's breathing grew heavier, her body trembling with anticipation. When you finally reached her center, you paused, looking up at her. Her eyes were half-closed, her lips parted in a soft moan.

“Please,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I need you.”

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to her clit. Rosé gasped, her hips bucking towards you. You licked a slow, teasing line from her entrance to her clit, savoring her taste. She was sweet and intoxicating, and you couldn't get enough.

You circled her clit with your tongue, applying just enough pressure to make her squirm. Rosé's hands found their way to your hair, her fingers tangling in your locks as she tried to pull you closer. You obliged, sucking gently on her clit, your tongue flicking over the sensitive nub.

Rosé's moans grew louder, her hips rocking against your mouth. You could feel her getting closer, her body tensing with each stroke of your tongue. You slid two fingers into her, curling them upwards to find that special spot inside her. Rosé cried out, her body arching off the couch as pleasure overwhelmed her.

You pumped your fingers in and out of her, matching the rhythm of your tongue on her clit. Rosé was a writhing mess beneath you, her moans turning into desperate cries for release. You could feel her walls clenching around your fingers, her body trembling with the intensity of her impending orgasm.

“Don't stop,” she pleaded, her voice barely a whisper. “Please, don't stop.”

You had no intention of stopping. You wanted to see her fall apart, to watch her come undone under your touch. You increased the pace, your fingers moving faster, your tongue flicking over her clit with relentless precision.

Rosé's body tensed, her back arching off the couch as she reached her climax. She cried out your name, her walls clamping down around your fingers as waves of pleasure crashed over her. You didn't stop, continuing to pump your fingers and lick her clit, drawing out her orgasm until she was a quivering mess.

When she finally came down from her high, Rosé looked at you with a mixture of awe and adoration. You withdrew your fingers, licking them clean as you moved up to kiss her. She tasted herself on your lips, moaning softly as she kissed you back.

“You're incredible,” she whispered, her voice filled with emotion.

“You're the incredible one,” you replied, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I love you, Rosé.”

“I love you too,” she said, her eyes shining with tears. “More than anything.”

You held her close, your bodies tangled together on the couch. The movie played on in the background, but neither of you paid it any attention. You were lost in each other, basking in the afterglow of your shared pleasure.

As you lay there, you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of satisfaction. You loved Rosé more than anything, and moments like this reminded you of just how special your connection was. You knew that no matter what challenges life threw your way, you would always have each other.

And that was all that mattered.

[mvttsturn]

triplicity of hearts ── .✦

summary ; Where two secret lovers are abruptly exposed.

warnings ; smut ‼️ , nicknames

word count ; 1,705

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁༉‧₊˚.

You were currently in the kitchen with your brothers, the Sturniolos, filming a fun YouTube video for the upcoming Wednesday. You had been pestering them for weeks to feature in one of their videos, and today was the perfect opportunity for that to happen.

"Today's video is about uncovering juicy secrets and revealing them right here, right now," Matt initiates, stressing each word for emphasis. "And thus, we have invited our younger sister, Y/N, to embark on this adventure with us." Chris interjects with a sly remark and exclaims, "Yeah, she's definitely behaving suspiciously." To which Nick responds with a hint of disgust in his voice, "Ugh, dude please, don't say that. That’s disgusting." which immediately makes me chuckle slightly.

After finishing the intro of the video, I hear the door to the house open and a familiar head walk up the stairs. One that belongs to Nate, my brother’s best friend; and my secret lover. As Nate ascends the stairs towards the kitchen, his presence brings a hint of anticipation and excitement, reminding you of the secret connection you and he shared in Boston. The memories of that intimate encounter play out in your mind, adding a layer of forbidden thrill to the moment. Upon reaching the kitchen, Nate flashes a subtle smile as he locks eyes with you, a knowing look passing between you both.

Sitting in the warm cabin with Nate and your brothers, you wait until the clock ticks 9pm as you know they need to go out and film something for youtube. You, although, were excited to finally spend some time without constant blabbering in your ear. That is if Nate is willing to sit in silence for a few hours. However, that was not the case at all. You two were in the kitchen baking some cookies in preparation for the slight movie night you two had spontaneously planned, in hopes that Nate will finally see you for how you see him. Flour, eggs, and sugar was all over the kitchen counter and your faces. Giggles erupted around the room as you ran into the living room to get away from Nate.

 “Nate!” You squealed as you felt one of his arms wrap around your waist to hold you still as the other reaches your face and wipes the remains of flour onto your cheek. You spin around with your nose scrunched, imitating a look of anger as Nate laughs at your response to his flour in the face act. He chuckles at the sight and brings his hand up to wipe your cheek, “You look amazing, Y/N. With and without flour on your face.”  You smile as you look up at him, your cheeks growing a brighter hugh of pink through each running moment with him. 

Your mind was currently spiralling like an endless carousel, picturing many different ways that this could go. One could be that Nate just slaps you, in hopes that you’d just disappear into thin air with not even a strand of hair left. Or the other… could be that he swoops you up into his arms without any mishaps and he takes you into his room to give you the best night of his and your life. You secretly hoped it was the second option. “Yeah?” You reply, not taking your eyes off of him, a hint of mischief  and hopefulness planted into your eyes.

“Yeah.” He replies, mirroring the same look you hold. Using his hand on your cheek to cup your face, gently caressing the skin just below your lips. His eyes are constantly flickering down to your lips and back up into your eyes. This immediately makes you excited and you wrap your arms around your shoulders in hopes that you’re not reading this wrong. His hands make his way down to your hips, paying special notice to the shape of your body. In one quick motion, he decides to close the gap between you and pulls you in so that your lips are touching his. 

It was almost as if he had been craving for your touch for a very long while as his lips moved against yours hungrily. Almost as if you had both been picturing this moment ever since you had met, from the very moment your eyes had locked on the other. “I need you,” He whispers against your lips. “I’ve needed you for forever.” You bite his bottom lip, each word turning you on a little more. And from what you can feel pressed against your thigh, you could tell your actions were doing the same. Only affecting him more so when you decide to bring your hand down to feel exactly what it was that was poking you. 

Nate groaned at your touch as you felt his dick pulsating in your hand, wanting an immense amount of more freedom. Not being able to pull your lips off of eachother, you walk backwards until your back hits wall after wall until you finally make it into your room. He shuts the door behind you two and throws you onto your bed, pulling your ankles so that you’re on the edge of your bed so he can have more ease while he kneels down. Pushing your thighs apart, he slides his arms around the back of your hips so that they’re lifted up slightly, enough so that there is space to slide your joggers down along with your panties. 

“So wet already.” He groans which was almost enough to make you cum on the spot. He drags his middle finger along your heat making circular motions to arouse you even more. You moan at this slight of touch only making him a lot more worked up. You notice how experienced he seems which makes you question a few things. Still enjoying this moment, you breathe through long moans.

“How many times have you done this before?” You ask, sitting up onto your elbows to look down at him between your legs. He bites his lip before answering.

“Enough to know how to make you feel good, baby.” The pet name alone makes your walls clench around absolutely nothing due to the fact that nothing has really happened. Nate takes a notice to this and pumps a finger into you, allowing you to adjust to the new feeling. As his finger curls it hits the correct spot which sends you into a moaning spiral, sweat basically dripping down your forehead. Without warning, Nate adds another finger to the nonstop wave of pleasure he’s sending throughout your body. This only drives him to pump his fingers deeper and faster until you feel the knot in your stomach finally coming undone. “Fuck, Nate. I…” You whimper with your head thrown back. He groans at the use of his name, biting his bottom lip in the process. “Let go.” He says in an incredibly seductive tone which makes you cum all over his fingers. Nate brings them to your mouth and watches as you suck on his fingers that had your taste all over them.

He chuckles and licks your sensitive clit, sending shivers down your legs. Squeezing your thighs, he makes patterns with his thumb as his tongue slides up and down your pussy, his tongue dipping into your hole occasionally. 

Being incredibly impatient, Nate pulls down his trousers along with his boxers revealing his already hard dick which springs up immediately, almost hitting his stomach. Lining himself against you, he rubs his tip along your folds, making a groan escape his plump lips. “Are you ready Y/N?” He asks you, making sure to get your complete consent. You nod your head, biting your lip but this was not good enough for him. “I need words sweetheart.”

“Please Nate… please fill me up.” You moan, feeling his tip slip into your pussy with ease. He gives it a few seconds before fully fucking into you, grasping at your hips to steady himself. “Fuck, Y/N. Doing so good my love.” He groans, only bringing you both closer to the edge. 

Nate was a whimpering mess at the edge of the bed, pushing his hand on your stomach to feel how deep he was going. You moan his name at the feeling, your walls clenching around his dick making Nate throw his head back in an overwhelming pleasure. You could feel his cock twitch inside of you which pulls the strands of the knot in your stomach that was dying to come undone. With a couple more thrusts, Nate pulls out painting your stomach white and you almost immediately cum after him.

“You alright there, Y/N?” Matt asks with a chuckle, noticing your quietness. You nod in response not being able to get a word out as Nate sits next to you, legs basically touching. You wondered if you would ever be able to tell your brothers about this somewhat relationship.

After filming the video, you lay in your bed due to your tiredness and weird range of emotions throughout the filming process. Matt, Nick and Chris were about to go out to get some food to bring back for the 5 of us which Nate declines and makes an excuse that he needs to do something. 

He comes to your room and lays beside you, wrapping his arms around your waist and laying his head in the crook of your neck. “Hey pretty girl.” He says, kissing your shoulder. You smile at his actions, really pleased of what you both have going on. “Hey you.” Nate smiles back at you and turns you around so that you’re facing eachother. He brings your face closer to his, about to place a kiss on your lips until your bedroom door opens and in walks a Chris.

“Hey Y/N, what do you want from McDon… What the fuck?” Chris says finally looking at the two of you cuddled up in bed. You knew this was bad but you couldn’t think of anything worse that could happen right now. That was until your other two brothers walked in, eyes immediately going wide. 

“Well I guess you guys now know why I was acting so ‘suspicious’!”

100% was not rushed at the end! 😆

tysm for reading ❤️

idea by ; @deffonotjae

[holdmytesseract]

About Time

☆ The Baby Fever AU ☆

Loki x girlfriend!reader

Summary: You have important news to tell your best friends...

Warnings: none!

Word Count: 573

a/n: Yep, you read that right... girlfriend!reader! 😱 This is just a small drabble, announcing what is hopefully to come in the next few weeks/months... 👀😊

Baby Fever Crew: @lokisgoodgirl @km-ffluv @eleniblue @vbecker10 @loz-3 @jennyggggrrr @lokisninerealms @peaches1958 @multifandom-worlds @fictive-sl0th @lovingchoices14 @simping-for-marvel @stupidthoughtsinwriting @lou12346789 @kimanne723 @coldnique @lady-rose-moon @mostclevermiss @aagn360 @acefeather2002 @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @chennqingg @lokiforever @anukulee

Peeps, who I think might be interested... @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @smolvenger ☺️

Baby Fever Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

You were literally running down the hallway towards the Avengers common living room, smiling like a Cheshire cat. Although, running was perhaps the wrong term. Rather walking fast, with a happy spring in your step. Without hesitation, you stormed inside the large room, in which Natasha, Wanda and Pepper sat on the big sofa, watching a movie on girl's night. The plan was to join them, but your boyfriend kinda crossed that plan…

You were so excited and fast, that you almost crashed into the door frame, but made it to stop yourself mere inches before the impact. "Giiiiirls!" You yelled; announcing your presence. You could see how your friends flinched at the sudden, shrill voice calling them out, before three heads snapped into your direction. Six pairs of eyes staring at you in surprise. "He did it! HE DID IT!" You screamed from the top of your lungs, probably waking everyone who lived in this big building. Natasha's eyes widened, as she caught up immediately to your words. "He did IT?" You nodded quickly and started to jump up and down in sheer endless happiness. "Yes!" A high-pitched squeal left the spy's lips, "О мой Гош! Наконец-то! (Oh my gosh! Finally!)" before she stood up from the sofa and made her way quickly over to you, to pull you into a bone crushing hug.

"I thought he was never going to do it," said Natasha. "Honestly, sweetie, I was moments away from asking him if he lost his balls during the time he spent here on earth." You couldn't help but to laugh at your friend's words. "Right, Nat!? It was about time Loki finally proposed," stated Pepper. "I couldn't agree more." Wanda had the same opinion. "Did he ask you on your date tonight?" You nodded at the Russian beauty. "Yep!" "At the lake?" "At the lake." "Uhhh!" Pepper wiggled her eyebrows. "With a picnic?!" You nodded once more, signalling Tony's wife that she was right. "With a picnic!" "And stargazing?!" Wanda asked, giddily. "Mhm! And stargazing!" "Eeeep!" All of them squealed, clapping their hands, behaving like teenage school girls. But hence, you weren't better.

Pepper and Wanda were still quite a bit confused; didn't catch up as fast as Natasha to what was going on. "What?" Intervened Pepper curiously. "Loki did what???" You let go of Nat and beamed at your other friends.

Lifting your hand, you showed them a silver ring with a green emerald, which sparkled on your ring finger. "He proposed! He PROPOSED!" Realisation dawned on Pepper and Wanda now as well. "Oh.My.Freaking.Gosh!" "You're getting married?!" Wanda exclaimed excitedly. "I.AM.GETTING.MARRIED!" The blonde- and brown-haired women squeaked and cheered happily and stood up in order to run over to you and literally over run you with hugs and congratulations. You giggled with them; drunk on happiness.

"So it was exactly how you dreamed it would be?" Pepper couldn't help but to ask. "Yes. It absolutely was! He conjured the ring from the stars, can you believe that?! It was perfect..." You answered, sighing dreamy. "Wow..." Natasha smiled, crossing her arms over her chest. "Mister Mischief is really following through with this, huh?" "Yeah... He really means it. Loki truly loves me. Just like I love him." "Awww," Pepper cooed, literally having heart eyes by now. Wanda giggled and wrapped her arms around yours and Natasha's waist. "Girls, we have a wedding to prepare." Your two other friends agreed. "Oh, we absolutely do!"

[knightprincess]

We Are One (A Star Wars Oneshot)

Words: 1.5k Warnings: Only if you count terrible singing! Summary: The boys of Clone Force 99 have a little fun at Pabu's Life Day festival. Set Post TBB Season 3 Note: Tech's alive in this! Mox, Deke, and Stak were adopted by the Bad Batch. Also Lion King Parady (I think)

Pabu had been its ever-peaceful self since Hemlock’s demise and the fall of the Advance Science Division. Since all knowledge of Omega had been explosively wiped from the Empire’s databanks. The members of Clone Force 99 had retired and worked to build a life outside of running, outside of being soldiers. Now, they worked to help Pabu thrive and focused on being the family they’d always been at heart.

The days had been quiet outside the odd bouts of mischief from Omega, Mox, Deke, and Stak. Sometimes, Lyana would be involved, too, although most of the time, the mayor’s daughter sat back and watched the chaos unfold.

On the odd occasion, things would take a different turn. Omega would remain in the little family domicile and spend time with her brothers. Sometimes, it would be random games with Wrecker that would soon involve the others or asking Tech questions about the most unusual things; mimicking Hunter and Crosshair were her favorites, as were the experiments in the kitchen and getting to hug Echo when he finally decided to drop by for a visit.

Movie nights were also a weekly occurrence. Sometimes, they went by without much hassle, but most times, they ended in a popcorn fight. Phee would join in when she was there. Stories of the past were an everyday occurrence. Tech would matter-of-factly tell his own, always ready to answer any questions. Hunter always ensured he was child-friendly, even when telling them to Stak, Deke, and Mox. Echo told the stories of his own cadet days and the endless chaos he caused with Fives, Jesse, and Kix. Whereas Crosshair would spare no one’s feelings and tell each story in all its glorious detail. While often throwing his brothers under the metaphorical bus.

Unknown to most, though, the constant questions about the past and begging for stories to be told had all been a distraction for the most part. Omega, Mox, Stak, and Deke had mischief in the works and had once again roped Lyana into helping. The mayor’s daughter had also taken the time to distract Phee, asking for stories on her adventures across the galaxy, both in famous treasure hunts and for the priceless artifacts she so often brought back.

“So how are we going to get them to sing the intended song?” asked Stak, suspecting it would be no easy task to get Hunter, Tech, Wrecker, or Crosshair to sing anything, especially the snarky sniper. Echo wouldn’t be easy to convince either if he happened to stop by in another unannounced visit again after all previous attempts had failed for the most part. Only Wrecker had played along, as had Phee on a few occasions.

“Leave that to me,” announced Phee as she walked past. Her destination was clear: the atrium, likely to place another priceless artifact inside. “Either that or use your powers of being adorable kids to your advantage,” she added with that knowing smile. After all she knew, Omega practically had Hunter and Crosshair wrapped around her little finger.

~* Weeks Later *~

The plan was in motion; with the help of Phee, everything had been set up. The small Life Day festival was already in full swing, with stalls in the large square at the top of the island, lights strung in the streets, hanging in trees, and carefully fixed to the large sea walls. Music was played live via instruments and random pieces over the holonet, and transceivers set up.

Omega and Lyana danced together and laughed amidst their fun; the boys were roped into joining them, too. Echo had stopped by for a visit, bringing Rex, Howzer, Gregor, Cody, and Wolffe with him. Each seemingly found a sense of peace during the visit, even if it was about to be disturbed by the attempt the five mischievous ones had in mind to commit.

At the request of Phee, a specific song was played by those playing instruments at the festival. A smile painted on her lips to see Tech had recognized the tune; after all, she’d spent time getting each member of the Bad Batch prepared for the event. All to surprise Omega, Mox, Stak, and Deke. For once, putting the four in the center of the mischief and potential embarrassment.

“As you go through life, you’ll see there is so much that we don’t understand,” began Tech, unsure of his own talents when it came to singing but going with the flow nonetheless. Mox stood between Phee, and Tech went wide-eyed. “And the only thing we know is things don’t always go the way we planned.”

“But you’ll see every day that we’ll never turn away when your dreams come undone,” continued Crosshair, creeping upon Deke, ensuring the former cadet knew he couldn’t escape this. Like Mox, his eyes went bold, and his cheeks began to redden, even more so when the attention of those attending the festival turned to Crosshair and those singing. “We will stand by your side, filled with hope and filled with pride. We are more than we are. We are one.”

“This is so embarrassing,” commented Deke.

“Did we miss something?” asked Howzer as Gregor all but whistled and cheered from his side.

“Family, family, we are one,” began Shev and Phee, either side of Lyana, who tried her hardest to hide behind the scarf she’d chosen to wear that day. “Family, family, we are one,” they repeated; this time, Phee casually walked away, stopping at Echo’s side as if indicating he, too, had some part in it.

“Something you want to tell us, Echo?” voiced Rex, recalling all the mischief the Arc Trooper had caused during the war.

“For once, I’m innocent in this,” replied Echo, attempting to plead his case, although he quickly understood it was unlikely to work.

“You are anything but innocent, especially when Fives was around,” called Cody. A grin appeared across his lips now, even more so to see Wolffe’s utter confusion, although the battle-worn commander was starting to sway to the music.

“If there’s so much I must be, can I still just be me the way I am?” sang Omega, throwing caution to the wind and joining in before Hunter had the chance to catch her as Tech and Crosshair had thrown Mox and Deke into the spotlight.

“Can I trust in my own heart, or am I just one part of some big plan?” added Lyana before dancing off with Omega, spotting Stak trying to hide now, likely having worked out he too wouldn’t be able to escape the off-key singing or the spotlight destined to find him at Wrecker’s hand.

“Even those who are gone are with us as we go on. Your journey has only begun,” sang Hunter, appearing next to Echo, deciding to throw the Arc Trooper in the limelight instead. “Tears of pain, tears of joy. One thing nothing can destroy is our pride. Deep inside, we are one.”

“I’m starting to like these boys more and more,” commented Wolffe, his smirk slowly morphing into something that resembled a natural smile as he slurped his coconut drink. Gregor was at his side, offering a chuckle filled with mischief, almost like he was taking ideas from the display happening before him.

“Family, family, we are one,” sang the entirety of Clone Force 99, Crosshair, with his arm thrown over Hunter’s shoulder. “Family, family, we are one,” they repeated—this time with Gregor joining in and Howzer humming along to the catchy tune.

“And I thought your boys had lost their marbles,” said Cody, looking to Rex, who had since been cast into silence. However, it remained unknown what had caused it. The members of Clone Force 99 are off-key singing or just the unlikely scene in general.

“Just be glad this didn’t take place during the war,” commented Echo, suspecting the boys of the Bad Batch weren’t above doing something like this during their frat boy days.

“That would have been legendary,” replied Howzer, once again hearing Gregor chuckle, this time at Wolffe’s expression, the former commander silently asking if the captain had gone crazy.

“We are one, you and I. We are like the earth and sky. One family under the sun,” started Wrecker, a wide smile stretching over his lips as he threw an arm over Stak, preventing the former cadet from hiding longer or escaping. “All the wisdom to lead,” he added as he pointed to Hunter, “All the courage that you need,” sang Wrecker, pointing to Crosshair. “You will find when you see we are one.”

“Family, family, we are one,” sang Gregor, louder than anyone else but with the largest grin. “Come on, old Wolffy. Family, family, we are one,” added Gregor.

“Eh, what the hell,” spoke Echo before throwing his scompt arm over Rex’s shoulder, “Family, family, we are one.”

“That’s the spirit,” called Phee from her spot across the square, holding a brightly colored drink of her own.

“Family, family, we are one,” sang Omega, Stak, Deke, and Mox around her and Lyana. Now that the embarrassment had faded, they seemed to find the funny side of everything, although they swore revenge for the cleverly planned-out display.

“Family, family, we are one.”

Masterlist

[your-local-simp-writers]

Movie Night

Word Count: 1775

Warnings: None

Terry Mcginnis x Fem!Reader ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

The evening air felt fresh and inviting as you walked up to Terry’s house, a feeling of excitement bubbling in your chest. After a long week filled with chaotic school projects and endless responsibilities, spending a quiet night with him felt like the perfect antidote. His house was a small but cozy place, nestled in a quiet neighborhood that was a stark contrast to the bustling streets of Neo-Gotham. The porch was adorned with a couple of potted plants that Terry’s mother tended to meticulously. Their vibrant colors popped against the muted backdrop of the house, and as you stepped onto the porch, you noticed a few toys scattered about.

You knocked gently on the door, and within moments, it swung open to reveal Terry with his signature grin, his dark hair tousled, and a hint of mischief in his deep-set eyes. “Hey! You made it!” he exclaimed, stepping aside to let you in.

“Of course! Wouldn’t miss a movie night with my favorite people,” you teased, nudging him playfully as you stepped inside. The familiar scent of popcorn filled the air, mingling with the faint notes of laundry detergent and Terry’s signature cologne. The living room was vibrant and cluttered, a mix of family life and boyhood chaos—colorful cushions were strewn across the oversized couch, and a few action figures littered the coffee table.

“Max is just finishing up some cereal,” Terry said, motioning toward the kitchen. You could hear the faint sound of a cartoon playing in the background, the cheerful voices of animated characters providing a lively backdrop to the evening.

“Spaghetti Monsters!” came a cheerful shout from the kitchen. You chuckled, shaking your head at the title. “I can’t believe he’s still into that show.”

“Hey, it’s a classic,” Terry defended with a grin as he led you through the small hallway into the kitchen. Max was perched at the table, a bowl of cereal in front of him, his little hands clutching a spoon, and wearing a superhero cape that flapped as he bounced in his chair.

“Y/N! You came!” Max exclaimed, his face lighting up with joy. You knelt beside him, ruffling his hair affectionately.

“Of course! I wouldn’t miss hanging out with you guys. Did you save the world again today?” you asked, a smile spreading across your face as you took in his excitement.

Max nodded vigorously, puffing out his chest proudly. “I fought off the Spaghetti Monster and saved the city!”

“Impressive!” you said, your eyes sparkling with laughter. “What’s the plan for tonight, then? More monster-fighting, or are we switching to movies?”

“Movies!” he declared, before shoving another spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

Terry crossed his arms, leaning against the counter with an amused expression. “And what makes you think you’re allowed to stay up for a scary movie, young man?”

“Because I’m brave!” Max replied with all the conviction of a five-year-old superhero.

“You’re brave, huh? I don’t know about that,” Terry said, raising an eyebrow playfully. “What do you think, Y/N? Should we let this brave little guy watch a slasher film?”

You exchanged a mischievous glance with Terry. “Only if he promises to keep the lights on and sleep with his cape. We can’t have any nightmares ruining our movie night.”

Max nodded eagerly, his mouth full of cereal again. “I promise!”

As you settled into the living room with Terry and Max, the atmosphere felt warm and inviting. The walls were adorned with family photos, capturing moments of laughter and love. Max’s little drawings were pinned up next to a chalkboard covered in doodles, and there was a sense of joy that radiated from every corner of the room. Terry’s mom moved gracefully through the space, tidying up as she glanced over at you with a welcoming smile.

After a few minutes, Terry scooped Max up effortlessly and carried him to his room as he began to yawn, clearly fighting against sleep. “Alright, buddy. Time for bed,” Terry said softly, tucking Max in with a gentle hand.

“I don’t want to sleep!” Max protested, his eyes still wide with energy, but it was clear that he was losing the battle.

“You don’t have to sleep. Just rest, and I’ll come back in a little while,” Terry reassured him, planting a kiss on his forehead. As Terry left the room, you felt a swell of warmth in your chest. Watching him with his brother was one of your favorite things about him; he was so patient and loving, and it was a side of him that revealed a depth you adored.

When he returned, the couch felt emptier without Max’s bubbly energy, but it also felt like a blanket of calm had settled over the room. “Now, where were we?” Terry asked, flopping down onto the couch beside you, the cushions sinking under his weight.

“We were about to watch a horror classic!” you replied, reaching for the remote and clicking on the movie. The screen flickered to life, and the opening credits rolled, casting an eerie glow across the room.

“Just so you know, I’m totally prepared for this,” Terry said, leaning back confidently. “I’ve watched like three of these this week. I’m practically a pro.”

You shot him a playful look. “Oh, really? Just remember, if you scream, I’m never going to let you live it down.”

“Please, as if I would scream,” he scoffed, though you could see the hint of challenge in his eyes.

As the movie unfolded, you both became engrossed in the plot, the tension building on screen. You could feel Terry's body tense beside you during particularly scary moments, and you found yourself leaning into him, seeking comfort. “Why do they always split up?” you exclaimed during a ridiculous scene where the characters made a dangerous decision. “That’s just asking for trouble!”

“Right?” Terry replied, laughing. “It’s like they want to get picked off one by one. I mean, who thought that was a good idea?”

The banter continued, punctuated by gasps and laughter as you both made fun of the characters’ choices. You leaned in closer as the movie reached a particularly tense moment, feeling a thrill run through you. Terry’s arm found its way around your shoulders, and you could sense the warmth radiating from him.

When the film hit a climactic moment, you gasped, instinctively clutching onto his arm. “Oh my gosh, did you see that?”

Terry laughed, his laughter warm and infectious. “You were right! That was definitely unexpected. I thought for surethat the killer was going to come from the left, not the right!” he finished, his voice filled with excitement.

You both laughed, and as the tension of the movie ebbed, you felt the comfort of the moment settle in. The glow of the screen flickered across Terry’s face, highlighting the playful spark in his eyes. He turned to you, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “You know, I think you’re more invested in this than I am.”

“Can you blame me?” you replied, trying to sound indignant, though the grin on your face betrayed your amusement. “You might be the one who screams first.”

“Not a chance!” he declared confidently, but there was a flicker of mischief in his gaze.

As the film progressed, the mood shifted; the story grew darker and the stakes higher. You felt your heart race, and in a particularly suspenseful scene, you leaned a little closer to Terry, your shoulder brushing against his. He didn’t pull away; instead, his arm tightened around you, pulling you in just a fraction more. The warmth of his body felt like a shield against the chill creeping in through the night.

“Okay, I might scream if something jumps out right now,” he admitted, his voice low and conspiratorial. You could see the tension building in his shoulders as the suspense hung thick in the air.

“Let’s make a deal: if you scream, I’ll throw popcorn at you,” you offered, trying to lighten the mood.

“Deal!” he laughed, his eyes dancing with playful challenge.

The movie reached a climax, and as the action intensified, you both gasped together at a sudden scare, your fingers instinctively intertwining. You hadn’t meant to hold his hand, but the moment felt so right, as if it was the natural conclusion to the playful banter and the building tension.

Terry turned to look at you, and for a heartbeat, everything else faded away—the movie, the room, the world outside. Just you and him, caught in this shared moment. “I think we both just screamed,” he said, his voice a little breathless, a teasing smile spreading across his face.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Maybe just a little.”

With a small shift, he faced you more fully, his expression softening. “Thanks for being here. I know it’s been a crazy week for both of us, but it feels nice to just… be.”

You nodded, your heart swelling. “Yeah, it really does. I’ve missed this.”

He took a moment, studying your face as if trying to read your thoughts. The warmth of his gaze made your cheeks flush, and you felt a mix of comfort and excitement course through you. “You know,” he began, his tone serious yet gentle, “you make everything feel a little less chaotic.”

“Is that so?” you teased, though his words hit home.

“Definitely. Just being around you makes me forget about the craziness, even if it’s just for a little while,” he confessed, a hint of vulnerability in his voice that made your heart race.

You squeezed his hand lightly, the touch electric yet soothing. “I feel the same way. You’ve got this way of making everything better, even when things are rough.”

As you both fell quiet, the movie played on in the background, the sounds of suspense intermingling with your shared silence. Terry’s thumb brushed against your hand, and you could feel the warmth radiating from his touch, steady and reassuring.

“Can we do this more often?” he asked suddenly, breaking the silence but keeping his gaze steady on yours.

“Absolutely,” you replied, a smile spreading across your face. “I’d love that.”

The film’s tension faded into a gentle rhythm as you both became lost in each other’s eyes, the world outside fading away once more. As the closing credits began to roll, you realized this night was about more than just a movie; it was a moment of connection, a night to remember.

And just like that, the screen faded to black, but the warmth of the evening lingered, wrapping around you like a cozy blanket, promising more nights like this to come.

[bunnysnuff]

Sleepover.

Pairing: Everyone x m!reader. Charlie spring x m!reader (hinting).

Trigger warning: none.

Note: Happy Heartstopper day!<3

The excitement in the air was palpable as you and the Heartstopper crew gathered at Charlie Spring’s house for a much-anticipated sleepover. The night promised snacks, games, and endless laughter, and you could hardly wait. Charlie’s parents had kindly agreed to let you all take over the living room, transforming it into a cozy haven for the night.

As you stepped inside, you were greeted by the familiar warmth of Charlie’s home, the soft glow of fairy lights strung around the room creating a magical atmosphere. Charlie himself was busy setting up blankets and pillows, a big smile on his face as he welcomed everyone in.

“Hey! You made it!” he exclaimed, pulling you into a quick hug. “I’m so glad you’re here!”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you replied, grinning back at him.

Tara, who had just arrived, was already sorting through a bag of snacks, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I brought all the best sweets,” she announced. “Chocolate, gummy bears, and even some popcorn. We’re going to need it for the movie marathon!”

“Perfect!” you said, joining her as she set up a snack station on the coffee table.

Nick and Imogen arrived next, arms full of blankets and pillows, both laughing as they tried to balance everything. “We come bearing gifts!” Nick proclaimed dramatically, dropping the pile onto the floor. “Let the sleepover commence!”

After a few more friends trickled in, the living room was filled with laughter and chatter. You all settled in, the cushions creating a comfortable nest on the floor. Tara quickly set up the TV for the movie marathon, scrolling through the options.

“Let’s start with a classic,” she suggested. “How about The Princess Bride?”

“Yes!” Charlie chimed in. “I love that one!”

The lights dimmed, and the movie began, the familiar scenes filling the room with warmth and nostalgia. You found yourself laughing along with everyone, enjoying the mix of friendly banter and playful teasing that filled the space.

At one point, during a particularly cheesy scene, you leaned over to Charlie. “Can you believe how ridiculous this is?” you whispered, trying not to laugh too loudly.

He turned to you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “It’s amazing. But I think we can make it even better.” With that, he grabbed a handful of popcorn and launched it at you, a playful challenge in his gaze.

You quickly retaliated, tossing a few pieces back at him, and before you knew it, a full-fledged popcorn fight had broken out. Laughter erupted as everyone joined in, tossing popcorn at each other and trying to dodge the flying snacks. Charlie’s mom popped her head in, an amused expression on her face, but she just shook her head and left you all to your fun.

Once the popcorn war had settled down and the laughter had faded, the next movie began to play. As the night wore on, the energy shifted to a cozy vibe. You all cuddled under blankets, sharing stories and joking around, the bonds of friendship deepening with each passing moment.

As the credits rolled on the third movie, you felt a comfortable warmth enveloping you. The laughter and chatter had transformed into sleepy murmurs, and you could see that some of your friends had already started to doze off.

Tara stretched and yawned. “Okay, who’s ready for a midnight snack?”

The suggestion brought everyone back to life, and soon the living room was filled with energy again. You all made your way to the kitchen, rummaging through the cupboards for anything edible. You grabbed some cookies and milk, holding them up triumphantly.

“Behold! The ultimate midnight snack!” you declared, earning a round of cheers from your friends.

You spent the next hour indulging in late-night treats, sharing stories, and even playing a few rounds of cards. As you sat there, surrounded by your friends, you felt an overwhelming sense of belonging.

Eventually, everyone started to feel the effects of the late hour. One by one, your friends began to curl up on the floor, falling asleep amid the pillows and blankets. You leaned back against the couch, feeling content and happy. Charlie, who had been lying next to you, nudged you gently.

“Thanks for coming tonight,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” you replied, looking over at him. He smiled, and for a moment, you both just enjoyed the comfortable silence, the sounds of soft breathing and quiet snores filling the room.

As the last movie played softly in the background, you closed your eyes, letting the warmth of friendship wash over you. Tonight had been perfect, and as you drifted off to sleep, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for moments like this with the best of friends in the entire world.

[peacockpenis]

endless mischief movie night in – "suicide squid"

[midnightscxre]

@feral-fuqboi-danny​

It was a secret that was held like breath underwater. It rose up to her throat, which squeezed it , gurgled it back into her chest, where it, like a carbon dioxide, wrestled with her lungs and demanded to get out. But it didn’t. It couldn’t  Not after what she did. What she was doing for a long time.

Clare’s days in solitude were over. The tent she destroyed to make a hammock between the long, tall branches of the two pine trees was cut down, and dragged to the clear sight among the other survivors. It didn’t happened over night, or did, she was not certain. It was like feeding a wounded animal, with patience and dedication, the other survivors were hell bent on luring her back into the in the meager dimensions of security, near to the bon fire. The day that changed what seemed to be an eternity was when the temperamental loner that was mostly despised saved every single survivor just when it was time for them to be consumed by the entity.

She had an exit. And everyone thought she will take it. 

But the redhead did the opposite, humiliating the killer in the process. And no other, than Myers, the one counting sins mercilessly in silence. After all, the man stole the gravestone in pure malice, to continue his wicked path of revenge. However, that night he ended up with a foot in the head, knife hammered to his hand, and to top it off, ruined mask with a fire cracker no less. What she did, took great bravery and even more insanity, but the example she showed, to go after the killers, bloomed fast, and soon enough, she became a leader, everyone spearheaded by the fearless redhead. It gave them hope. It gave their spirit something more than the desire to run, to be more than rabbits running in front of their certain demise. The slight change in the survivor’s behavior didn’t end there. To be frank, there were secrets, hidden affairs, favorites. . . the place was worst than Big brother, just here the lucky ones won their life not ravaged for Entity’s entertainment.  But from all the shenanigans, drama and private affairs, there was something that was almost a taboo subject, something no one dared to do. And that was to openly and loudly, mock the killers. Even around the spitting embers. Mocking the killers meant more suffering, brutal kills, a unholy torture. . . but quickly it became a routine, fun way to spend the night. Again, starting with Clare. 

The woman went after all the killers, maybe the Huntress a bit less due to the history told in whispers, but there was one she had her claws in the most. Shroud always hiding every inch of his body, shadows covering his every move and embracing him as one of their own, silence was his weapon, stealth his death sentence he forced upon everyone. . . with more joy than others, with such enjoyment that he even took photos to admire or mock later, who knows, Clare swore he even jerked on them. Sick fuck. So, she did what no one else has done before. Went to the killer’s realm in order to do mischief. In order mess with them. With him. 

It was not easy, not in the slightest. Risk was higher than with others, this one could be anywhere and no one would hear him coming. But after months of effort, she got a window of ten minutes she needed. It seemed the man was a fan of the Legion, and while he was enjoying himself with his ‘ friends ‘, scarlet haired woman entered his living area. . . and made sure he knew it. Stolen goods, ruined photos with a red marker stating ‘ DICKface ‘, Eat it, Fuck you, You are no ones favorite scary movie, just a comedy’ .. . . the messages were endless, along with the photos of her middle finger on every empty film roll he owned. However. . . there was something she didn’t expect. A photo. Hidden  photo. Clare stared in shock and. . .well, fascination. The only killer hell bent over never to uncover his face, the only one no one has seen. . . had his mask off. Taking a photo with the legion. Pine-green eyes stared at the undeniably handsome face. Two dark pearls of the eyes luring her in with something dangerous, challenging. . . promising. That staring nearly got her caught, hearing the movement in the last second, and fleeing the ‘ crime scene ‘ with the picture by mistake. 

It started. . . strange. Gazing at the photo in private, under the ‘ new ‘ tent the survivors helped her to built. Frowning at the picture, throwing it around, nearly tearing it, since it had some unexplained charm to it, something that pulled her in like a magnet. Something that brought a bunch of realizations she managed to burry until that cursed moment when she saw his face. The way he operated and staled -- flawless, a skill to admire in eve. The way he played with the pray --- fascinating to observe, specially to her and her endless interest in such people. The way he thrived and bathed in every sick kill and slash he made, the way the hoarse voice sounded, the way the deep, smoky laugh echoed through the fog. . . it made a lethal combination in her mind, and before she knew it, the one she wanted ruin the most, became the favorite killer, and she didn’t look forward to his arrival only to ruin his day. . . oh no, it was much, much more.

It began with comments, whistles, waves . . giving away her position for no reason, stalking him, like they were playing a game. Much less pallets on his head, much more small things that don’t hurt as much thrown at him. Much more. . . ‘ playful ‘ winks and jokes. Of course, none of it sounded nice, playful or anything that would be mistaken for something that is ‘ not ‘ . . . but it was. . . very different. So different people started to notice, the survivors, some of them. 

Clare was low on ground, fingers resting on the muddy surface. The hook hovering over her head. She looked around, hearing the busy hands working on a generator. She was supposed to stay and guard the area, to alert. . . but what she wanted, was to distract. Ivory color of the mask flashed quickly behind the thick tree trunk, almost seeming as a literal ghost. . . but she knew it was him. A a secretive and scheming grin on her face. Her heart accelerated with some form of happiness, like the teenager seeing their crush in the hallways. It was so foolish it slipped her mind, and just like that, she got to her feet. “ Photos you take are so. . . boring.  All the same poses, all the same places, same bleeding shit. . and so much potential is wasted. “ Long, elegant  arms reached for the hook, bringing the whole body up with ease. “ Always thought this grim things were much more exciting than a stripper pole. “ Hourglass shaped moved quickly, sensually, as she flipped her head and allowed herself upside down then back, spreading the alluring inked legs before wrapping them around the hook again. “ Was that one of your kinks, hm? Chasing down strippers and prostitutes for an easy kill. It’s a good start. No one looks for them, they don’t scream when you touch them, you can take your time with both pleasures, if you are catching my drift. “ Remaining to swing like she isn’t confronted by a killer that is known to go feral on the sight on her, dedicated to tear her apart, she continued. “ What was your choice? Brunette? Blonde?. . . Redheads? “ Cheeky green on the plump lips, teasing the man. . . or. . . . . fishing for some information about his taste.

[jaidens]

And What Would You Do Baby, If You Only Knew

pairing [s] : two-bit mathews x trans!Soc!male!reader

warning [s] : | mentions of homophobia | fighting | kissing | secret relationship | I made the reader I guess jock? | blehh he's so silly | probably a little ooc.. dunno

a/n [s] : requests are open!!

Two-Bit Mathews has been explained to always put his two bits in a conversation, and the wise cracker of the Greaser gangs. However, when he met you, he's sure you ate him up and threw his brains and voice-box out of the window. You're sitting at the lunch table, chewing on whatever school food was made that day, with your jockey friends. He was warned about that group by Johnny and Ponyboy, how they always tried to take down Greasers that roamed the school.

However, Johnny mentioned how you were in his English and Chemistry class, and how you defended him a couple times after one of your “friends” picked on Johnny. People could've sworn all of the mischief and constant seek for danger left his eyes that day. Now, it was filled with adoration and wanting to find out about the boy he fell in love with that day.

Two-Bit immediately begins his venture of messing with you. Your friends stuck up for you, ending up with some bruised lips and eyes out of school grounds. However, on those particularly hard days, you stayed back with Keith and picked him up for running back to your friends. God, did that send him further back into the constant need to feel his hands on his face again.

Finally, he caught you alone, sitting away from people at the drive in theater. Two-Bit rubs his hands together and walks over to you, flipping up his leather jacket up further his neck: you're not sure how, but he figures out how to. He slides in the seat next to you, but you keep your eyes on the beach movie in front of you. “What are you doing around here? Where are you little Soc-y friends huh?” You turn your head at his words, and can't help but feel a little cheesy as him. He's puckering his lips out and smiling at you.

“They’re drinking and stuff. I actually wanna get home tonight.” You mumbled, head sitting on your fist as your attention falls back to the movie. Two-Bit slides back closer into you, arm wrapping around your shoulder and his hand rests. “Oh yeah? Need a ride home then? I can walk you.” You turn your head to look at him, with his hair greased enough to let a car slide on top and his eyes staring into yours. “Nah, I'm fine. I can just walk.” The Letterman jacket you're wearing suddenly feels too warm for the night and you pull it off.

Two-Bit is still there, arm wrapped around you. “You can’t walk round’ here.. lemme walk you home.” Two-Bit is almost begging to you, and he sits his head in your lap to look at you. You can't help but feel your cheeks warm at the sight of him. He smells like smoke and beer, but for some reason, it pulls you in deeper. “C’mon baby. I don't bite..” That's the sentence that started everything, that started the endless secret nights of holding and everything that you always needed and what you dreamed of.

You had to keep everything on the down low, your parents especially could not find out about Two-Bit and yours relationship. So, it ended with sneaking around past doors and out of windows, or holding hands under tables and interlocked pinkies. You couldn't lie and say the adrenaline rush wasn't absolutely amazing, after the constant things happening with the same business conversations or what football team won that week.

Two-Bit made your life ten times better than usual, but always incidentally, people find out about everything.

Two-Bit decided to take you out to a picnic and you were absolutely so excited. You wore your best Madra and jeans and you did your hair the way you knew Two-Bit liked it. He picked you up at your front door, and he and your father had a conversation. Two-Bit said he was giving you a ride to a football meeting, and surprisingly, your dad believed him. It was surprising to you for the fact that Keith was successfully able to lie to your parents.

Keith takes your arm and starts walking with you. His hands are in his jacket and he's talking about school and the gang. “I missed hanging out with you. Ever since the rumble everything's been so tight. The guys, man, they wont let me even look at a Greaser without getting my ass kicked.” Two-Bit straightens up and his arm wraps around your waist. “I know, Dally almost ripped my head off a couple days ago cause of it. I went out to see you, and man, was he mad.” You smile at the thought of Two trying to see you when he knows the circumstances between Greasers and Socs.

“I wish we could tell people, y'know. I wanna be able to do stuff with you in school.” Two-Bit nods and slips his pinky into yours. “Me too.” Two-Bit responds, gently cradling your hand in his and giving it a small kiss. “You’re the best thing that's ever been mine, and one day, I swear everyone will know.” That gives you a sense of relaxation as you lay your head on Two-Bit’s shoulder.

The moment is sweet and gentle, and you stare between your feet on the ground or the stars that collide against the dark sky. That was one of your favorite nights with Two-Bit, no matter how many more you shared, that night will always be etched in your memory forever. The way he held you and the way he told you that everyone would know.

The next day at school, it hurt to not hold him or even speak to him. Two-Bit didn't care however, and would still continue to talk to you and be around you at all times. It worried you and if the chance your friends found out, you would be torn apart quicker than you could even yell. Whenever Two-Bit tried to walk you home, you didn't even realize one of your friends had been traveling far behind and you decided to hold Keith's hand in yours and let him give you a soft kiss against your cheek.

At some point, your friend sped up and slammed his hand on Two-Bit’s shoulder and slammed him onto the ground. You yelled out Two-Bit’s name as your “friend” threw a punch against Keith's face. You pulled Two-Bit away from the fight and told him to go away. Your friend is standing there, holding his fist, and he's huffing in breaths. “What the fuck was that?” You asked and your friend looked up at you. “The Greasers need to get away, always being in your business, man. We're buds, we gotta protect each other.”

You stared at him like he was speaking a different language. “So, your thought to protect me, someone who is fully capable of getting someone away, is to throw them on the ground?” However you're sure your friend is more confused than you are and grumbles before walking away. “Man, sorry, I just lost it. But, don't tell anyone, I'm with Two-Bit. We're.. dating.” That makes your friend stop walking and turn to look at you. “Aw shit man. I'm sorry too, I should've let you handle it if anything was happening. So.. you're like gay?” The word almost burns, but you know he's just trying to figure it out. You nod at him and he gives you a soft smile.

“I won't tell anyone, your secrets are safe with me.” You smile at your friend after he reassures you. You hug him and he smacks your back. “See you at football practice next week.” Now, it was time to find wherever your boyfriend had ran off too. Eventually, you find Two-Bit, he's wiping the blood off of his nose and you can see him angrily rubbing tears off his face. “Two, hey honey.” You sit down next to him and pull his hands away from his face.

“Dickhead hit me right in the nose.” He huffs out and he lets you hold his handkerchief to his nose. You frown at him and give him a tight hug and he tenses up. “He apologized. It's just... we're all protective of each other. Just like how you are with Johnny.” You pull away from the hug and Two-Bit has a soft smile on his face. “I just, I really wish we could be more open,”

You sigh and give Two-Bit a soft kiss on his forehead. “I know, soon.” He hugs you once more and lays on your shoulder. “Thanks for fighting him.” You laugh with Two-Bit as he runs his thumb over your knuckles. “Always, I would fight everyone for you, I’ve done it before.”

[ @itzwilby ]

[shegeekery]

Dream Therapy (one-shot)

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Loki (TV 2021) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Erik Selvig, Loki (Marvel), Jane Foster (Marvel) Additional Tags: Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Emotional Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Dr. Erik Selvig struggles to recover from having a god in his head. A strange dream helps him see things in a new light.

“In related news, a lawsuit has been filed by New York contractors who argue that no-bid contracts are being granted to a small number of well-connected real estate developers, following the large-scale destruction of parts of Manhattan during the alien attacks two years ago.”

Dr. Erik Selvig switched off the television.

Two years. Selvig wanted nothing more than to forget the entire thing, especially his own part in it.��My unwilling part in it, he reminded himself.

He’d had two years of therapy, medications, meditation, and trying to lose himself in his work. He was better than he had been when he was arrested for running around Stonehenge sans clothing. He could at least stand to wear clothing now, but he still found it difficult to focus with his trousers on. It felt too restrictive, reminding him uncomfortably of the sensation of being totally controlled.

There was no recognized diagnosis for “possession by malevolent deity”, so they were officially treating him for PTSD. Some of it helped, much of it didn’t. He felt more himself these days, but the nights were bad. In his dreams, Loki was still there. Still threatening. Still taunting him.

As a child listening to the old myths of his homeland, he’d loved the stories about Loki, the God of Mischief. He’d been tickled by the idea that there was actually a god for that. Now, just the mention of that name could bring on flashbacks to a time when he’d been utterly consumed by Loki’s blind ambition and disregard for human life, unable to think for himself and enslaved, body and mind, to Loki’s “glorious purpose”.

He sighed and turned back to his work. He’d been at the same problem for months, trying to account for discrepancies between the standard model of quantum mechanics and the observed behavior of Einstein-Rosen bridges. His friend and former student, Jane Foster, had provided some valuable insights, but he still couldn’t make all the pieces fit. 

I’m too tired for this. He shut his laptop and went through his evening routine. He took his medication, including sleeping pills, and hoped this would be one of the good nights.

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

“How is your work coming along, Dr. Selvig?” Loki asked.

Selvig looked up from the graph on his computer monitor. What had he been working on, exactly? He didn’t know, but it was important. Very important.

“I…it’s…coming along,” he stammered. “Just, um, running some simulations.”

Loki glanced at the monitor. Instead of a complicated graph, it now showed a cartoon in which Garfield was taunting Odi.

“I suspect your heart isn’t in it, Doctor,” Loki replied in that quietly menacing tone he so often used. He raised his scepter. “Perhaps we need to ensure that your loyalty is still paramount?”

Selvig jerked out of the chair and backed away. “No! That’s not necessary. Really!”

Loki advanced toward him. “Oh, but I think it is.”

Selvig ran out of the room and into an endless hallway. He looked back, but Loki wasn’t there. He turned to see where he was going, and there was Loki, ahead of him, grinning maliciously. He ran the other way and back through the door, but now he was outside. It was dark, and he was in a nondescript alley. He kept running, turning a corner only to find himself at a dead end. He whirled around to find Loki advancing slowly toward him with the scepter.

“No! Please, not again!” Selvig pleaded.

Loki took another step toward him, then froze. Confused, Selvig waited for the inevitable, but Loki still didn’t move. The god was as still as a statue of himself.

“What’s happening?” Selvig asked.

“Dr. Selvig.” It was Loki’s voice, but his lips didn’t move and the voice seemed to be coming from…everywhere.

“What…what is this?”

“You’re safe, Dr. Selvig,” the voice said. It sounded surprisingly gentle. “This isn’t real. Just a dream. A nightmare.”

“Is this a trick?”

“No. Well, yes, actually. Your mind is playing tricks on you. But it’s your mind, Dr. Selvig. Nobody is controlling it now. You are free — and always will be, if I have anything to say about it.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Please look at my eyes, Dr. Selvig. What do you see?”

Selvig looked at Loki. In his eyes, he saw the malevolence, anger, and fierce determination that he remembered. “I see…fury.”

“And behind that fury?”

Selvig stepped just a bit closer, staring at the still-unmoving Loki, for the first time trying to really see him.

“I see…” he stopped, afraid to give voice to what he thought he saw.

“Go ahead. It’s alright.”

“I see…fear?”

“Yes, Dr. Selvig. Fear, and self-loathing. I was terrified — and I used intimidation to hide it, trying to make everyone around me more afraid than I was. I tormented those weaker than I was, to cover my own weakness. I wanted to rule by force and by fear, because I thought I was unworthy of true respect.”

On some level, Selvig understood that he was dreaming— but for some reason that realization wasn’t causing him to wake up as it normally would. The dream still seemed real to him.

“Why are you telling me this? Or…am I telling myself this?”

“It doesn’t matter. What matters is that it’s true and that you know it’s true. What I did to you was unforgivable. You’re a decent man, Dr. Selvig. None of it was your fault. Not even a god can withstand the power of the mind stone. Even so, you managed to sneak in an off-switch for the Tesseract’s force field while under my control. That’s a testament to your unusual strength of character and of mind. I underestimated you.”

“How do I make this stop, then?”

“That’s up to you, Doctor. Do whatever makes sense. If you want to hit me, hit me. Or vent your own rage in some other way. Here and now, you are the strong one.”

Selvig stood before Loki, hands balling into fists, feeling his own anger rising to replace the fear. Loki’s body remained frozen, but his eyes were now tracking Selvig’s every move. The urge to pummel him was overwhelming — but now that he’d seen the growing fear in Loki’s eyes, he couldn’t help but feel just a tiny bit sorry for him.

He took a step back. “No.”

“No?”

“I don’t need to hit you. That’s what you’d do, but it’s not me. Just…get out. Leave me alone and don’t come back.”

Loki simply faded away, leaving Selvig standing alone in the alley, which soon began to fade as well. Selvig felt himself floating, feeling more at peace with himself than he had in a long time. He was floating in a bed of seaweed — no, not seaweed; the long, thin strands that cradled him with warmth were glowing with a soft, greenish light, rocking him gently and lulling him into a more peaceful slumber.

He didn’t even startle when he heard Loki’s voice once more.

“One more thing, Dr. Selvig. In the morning, you may want to take a closer look at the rate of decay of particles entering the Einstein-Rosen bridge. I think you may find it interesting.”

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

“Erik, hi! How are you doing?” Jane Foster always started their phone conversations that way these days.

“I’m doing great! Listen, I just sent you a rather long document, but the short version is…I think I’ve cracked it! I found a way to square the Einstein-Rosen bridge with the standard model!”

“Seriously? That’s huge! I’ll check it out as soon as I can! What turned it around?”

“I looked at the rate of decay of particles entering the stream.”

“Woah! I didn’t even consider that. What made you think of it?”

“Would you believe it came to me in a dream?”

[heartfeltawe]

There’s just something magical about a night in with your person. No plans, no obligations, no stress — just the two of you, a cozy space, and your favorite ways to spend time together. Picture it: the world outside fades away as soon as the front door shuts behind you. It’s just you and them, an endless night ahead filled with laughter, good vibes, and maybe a bit of mischief.

The couch is calling, the lights dimmed low, creating that perfect warm, intimate glow. You both pick out a movie – maybe an old favorite or something you’ve been dying to watch together – but let’s be real, half the time, you’ll be talking, laughing, and getting lost in each other’s company. The movie is just background noise for the real show: you two, wrapped up in your own little universe.

Snacks? Oh, there’s plenty. All your go-to’s: chips, popcorn, candy, maybe something sweet, something salty. Drinks are chilled, within arm’s reach. The sound of cards shuffling fills the room as you pull out that deck for a round of your favorite card games. Maybe it turns competitive, or maybe it’s just a playful excuse to sit closer, flirt a little, tease a lot. Video games come next, controllers in hand, laughter spilling out every time one of you fumbles or pulls off an epic move.

Hours slip by like minutes as the night deepens, and conversation flows easily. Between talking about your day, dreams, and everything in between, there are those quiet moments too – the kind where you’re just sitting side by side, enjoying the simplicity of being near each other. You catch them smiling at you for no reason, and it hits you: this is home. Not the space, but the person beside you.

In those hours, there are no worries. No alarms to wake up to, no emails to check, no deadlines hanging over your head. Just soft, lingering touches, laughter that makes your stomach hurt, and the kind of comfort that only comes when you’re with someone who just gets you. Flirting turns to kisses, kisses to stolen glances, and you realize that these are the moments that matter the most. The ones where time slows, and life feels so, so good.

So, here’s to nights like these. Nights where it’s just you, your favorite person, and the beautiful simplicity of being. No rush, no plans, just living in the moment, surrounded by love, laughter, and the little things that make life worth it. 💭❤️✨️

[deathfavor]

@kyukicho​ said: call me when you get home? so i know you're safe? Senju to Hanma

will they won’t they starters

   Hanma doesn’t expect anything when he goes to leave. Why would he? He’ll just disappear back into the streets and be swallowed by the dark cover of night. That was usually how it was when Hanma left a location. His usual was shattered by her words. It shocks him and brings him to a rare standstill as he turns back towards her, as if he was double checking they are for him. Of course they are, there’s no one else around them. But it seems so odd. People said that to other people, in movies, in books, when leaving work, here and there, but people do not say it to Hanma of all people.

   It’s a rare moment to catch Hanma was a genuinely surprised look, confident arrogance ripped aside and baring a hidden truth. He’s not the reaper strolling around in an endless hunt for entertainment. He’s just Hanma Shuji. Hanma Shuji, who does not hear people say they care about whether or not he’s safe. For a very brief moment, there’s almost something softer in his sharp eyes as he gazes back at her, still caught in the throws of surprise like an animal in a trap.

   A few heartbeats pass before he lifts a hand in a casual gesture and offers a mischief filled smile.  “  Sure thing. Can’t promise the safe bit though ~ Where’s the fun in living life safe?  “  His voice slides back to its usual sing-song nature as he tosses back a grin an starts to move again.  His hand falls back to his side and then he disappears into the depth of the night.

   When he does eventually get back to his apartment, it’s with the strange weight of the phone in his hand. He doesn’t have to call. He doubts Senju would be surprised if he didn’t. That was just how Hanma was. He roamed as he pleased and did as he willed. It wasn’t like he promised to call her. It wasn’t that big of a deal. He kicks off his shoes while his lanky form sprawls across the couch and eyes his phone.

   He presses call and lifts it to his ear, lips curling when he hears it pick up on the other side.  “  That was quick. That eager to hear from me?  “  He teases, because that he can do without having to think much on it or the fact he’d actually called.