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l-littlebird-l · 1 year ago

Note

Hello, little bird🥰✨ I hope you’re doing well! I wanted to thank you once again for the masterpiece “The Blind Dance”, that was breathtaking!❤️‍🔥

If you don’t mind, I’d love to share with you some of my thoughts, they might be veeery stupid, I’m sorry in advance, that’s just what happens in my feverish brain (Ominis’ been filling my mind completely for several months🙈)

So, personally I’m into powerful and let’s say dominant Ominis hehe. What do you think about it:

Ominis and MC are friends and of course both of them have hidden feelings for each other. One day, MC appears to have a bruise on her neck from some regular fight she had. Ominis can’t see it obviously, but hears some ambiguous remarks about her neck. He gets super jealous and storms to his beloved Undercroft/dormitory/any empty classroom to let off some steam, she notices his state and follows him. And when she asks wtf with you, he bursts out. Like... slams her up against the wall, holds her neck where the bruise is and smth like “who the hell was he?!” (maybe some assumptions that it was Sebastian, cause he knows they spend a lot of time together), basically revealing his dark intimidating side a bit. There can also be insults and some parseltongue spilling of course cause this boy can’t control himself hehe. She’s outraged, trying to push him away, but he realizes how stupid he was, apologizes passionately and then.. no less passionate and possessive sex with parseltongue as well🔥

Gooods I just needed to share it with you, and maybe you will find some ideas inspiring for your incredible talent! And it’s totally fine if you find it an utter rubbish, my brain’s just not working properly when it relates to Ominis😂

Thank you again, we’re all so happy to have you in this fandom!💕

Thank you so much for your patience with this piece! I loved writing it and I had a lot of fun playing around with Ominis’ emotions. 😉 Rest assured, your prompt for this piece was amazing. Thank you so much for being my first request, and I really appreciate all the kind words you give me. The Blind Dance is one of my favorites as well. Ominis just has this way about him. 💕 You definitely piqued some ideas for later stories. Thank you again, and enjoy!

• Jealousy Is a Terrible Thing •

Ominis Gaunt x MC (Smut)

— Requests are Open —

Summary: Ominis’ jealousy flares up when Sebastian returns to the common room well past midnight, carrying your scent. The accumulation of lies and excuses reaches its breaking point, leading to a heated confrontation between you two.

—

Ominis is a master at finding every possible opportunity he can to get closer to you. He's like a magnet, whether that means strategically choosing the seat next to yours in class, skillfully appearing in the same hallways as you, suggesting lunch dates at The Three Broomsticks, or inviting you to join him for study sessions in a cozy corner of the library.

For him, every minute spent by your side fills his day with an unparalleled sense of happiness. It's as if the entire world around him had shifted since you entered his life. He now has something, or rather someone, to look forward to greeting every single day.

But today, however, things took an unusual turn. Ominis had hardly slept, and his mood was decidedly foul. All night, his mind had raced, tormented by the question of why Sebastian had returned to the common room so late last night, bearing the unmistakable trace of your scent. He wrestled with this enigma throughout the night, and what compounded his distress was Sebastian's blatant falsehood. Sebastian was notorious for brushing things off and fabricating the flimsiest of excuses. But that scent, Ominis recognized it all too intimately—it was unquestionably yours. A fire churned within him, a spark of jealously aflame.

(Recap)

As the clocks hands inched past curfew, Sebastian clandestinely slipped into the common room, his movements shrouded in secrecy. His arrival, however, didn’t go unnoticed. Ominis lifted his head from his book as he drew a deep breath, catching a tantalizing trace of your scent emanating from Sebastian's clothing.

Without missing a beat, Ominis confronted Sebastian, his voice laced with an unmistakable sharp edge. "Sebastian, you're out past curfew. What were you up to?"

Sebastian, however, was quick on his feet. He met Ominis' gaze with a feign air of innocence. "Oh, nothing much, just a late-night stroll. Clearing my head, you know."

Ominis slammed his book shut and rose from his seat, his brows knit together with irritation. "Late-night stroll? Clearing your head?" he scoffed, his voice tinted with bitterness. "Don't insult my intelligence, Sebastian. I can smell her on you."

Sebastian tried to maintain an air of nonchalance, beads of sweat formed along his forehead. "You're imagining things, Ominis. Just a bit paranoid, aren't we?"

But Ominis was having none of it. He took several steps forward, his words biting through the air. "I know the scent of her perfume, Sebastian. Don't think you can play the fool with me."

Sebastian's mask of indifference began to crack as Ominis' possessiveness pressed in on him. "Fine," he spat back, the veneer of politeness shattering. "I was with her. So what? She can choose who she spends her time with."

Ominis' patience wore thin, and his anger flared as he leaned forward. "You're playing a dangerous game, Sebastian," he growled, his jealousy unleashing. "She's mine, and you'd do well to remember that."

Sebastian, seemingly unfazed, crossed his arms with a smirk, his voice edged with false nonchalance. "Why do you care so much, Ominis? What I do with her is none of your concern."

Ominis gritted his teeth, his temper burning from within. He wanted to shout, to demand answers, but his pride kept him restrained. “Just answer the question, Sebastian. What were you doing with her?”

Sebastian leaned forward, his tone a venomous whisper. "Maybe you're just not man enough to satisfy her."

Ominis clenched his jaw, his jealousy scraping the forefront, but he couldn't bring himself to reveal the true depth of his feelings.

Sebastian leaned back, a smug grin playing on his face. "You're so possessive, Ominis. It's pathetic. She's not yours to control."

Ominis, his anger boiling over, shot back, "You're just a playboy, Sebastian. You don't understand what it means to truly care about someone."

Their words hung in the air, charged with tension and unresolved emotions. The common rooms quiet atmosphere seemed to amplify, and neither of them was ready to back down.

Sebastian's eyes narrowed, as he leaned in closer to Ominis, his voice dripping with venom. "And what would you know about caring for someone? You've never even seen her face, let alone know what it's like to be with someone like her."

Ominis couldn’t take it anymore. The frustration, the jealousy, the pain all swirled inside him like a tempest. He had been holding back, trying to maintain some semblance of control, but Sebastian’s taunts and insinuations were pushing him over the edge. A dark, sinuous whisper echoing within his head.

With furious colors, Ominis lunged at Sebastian, his control slipping away like sand through his fingers. He grabbed Sebastian’s collar, his fingers digging into the fabric as he shoved him forcefully against the wall. His face was contorted with rage as he leaned in closely.

Sebastian was caught off guard by Ominis’ sudden loss of control, despite being pinned against the wall and faced with Ominis' seething anger, he managed to taunt one last time. He grinned, though there was a nervous edge to it.

"Ominis, you're blind in more ways than one," he sneered, digging in with a final jab.

Ominis' grip on Sebastian's collar tightened, his knuckles turning white. He was on the verge of losing control completely, his anger and jealousy driving him to the brink of madness. The whisper inside, growing louder with each passing second.

As Sebastian's taunting words hit Ominis, they seemed to strike a deeper chord. Ominis' anger slowly faded, replaced by a wounded look in his eyes. He slowly released his grip on Sebastian's collar, taking a step back and facing away.

His voice, when he spoke, was filled with a poisonous blend of hurt and resignation. "Fine, Sebastian. Have it your way," he muttered, his anger now overshadowed by a sense of defeat and pain.

Sebastian held his gaze on Ominis’ back for a moment longer before breaking away, storming off to bed with Ominis' words echoing in his ears.

Left alone in the dimly lit common room, Ominis couldn't quell the burning jealousy that gripped his heart. His mind raced with turbulent thoughts, imagining what you and Sebastian were doing together. Each passing minute felt like an eternity as his possessiveness over you gnawed at him, making it impossible for him to find solace in sleep. The scent of another man, bearing traces of you, lingered in the air, a reminder that he couldn't shake off.

As the day dragged on, he found himself in the library, waiting for your arrival. The evening had been earmarked for a study session between the two of you. He positioned himself in a secluded corner of the library, setting the stage for a mental game amidst the book-lined corridors. Aware of the intricate nature of his little mind game, he knew that extracting answers required meticulous finesse. Every move, every word was a potential gambit on your friendship. His mind was a turbulent sea of unanswered questions, each wave threatening to consume his thoughts. The stakes were high, and the risks, even higher. But his determination burned in red. He needed answers, and if Sebastian wasn’t going to give them to him— then you will.

Even moments before your arrival, his mind raced with restless thoughts, the relentless curiosity within him clawing at his very core. A low grumble slipped from his lips, his fingers sinking into the pages of his book, an unsettling image flashing vividly within his thoughts.

"There you are," a familiar voice greeted him with enthusiasm, the sound of your steps weaving around the bookshelves as you plopped your stack of books on the table.

Ominis, drawn by the melody of your sweet voice, lifted his head, and his countenance transformed. His features softened, and a smile, one reserved solely for you, gently curved his lips. The crashing waves of his mind finding ease.

"So you decided to come after all," he teased, deliberately averting his gaze back to the book in his hand as his grip softens.

"Of course I'd show up, I'd never miss our study time together. It’s too precious," you playfully retorted, settling down next to him.

As you opened your books, the sound of the pages turning harmonized with the subtle waft of your scent, enveloping the space around him. That same, familiar scent, lingering in the air, stirring something within.

The library was unusually hushed, the subtle sound of his nails picking at the corners of parchment, bending them with a nervous energy. Your gaze instinctively followed the sound, an elegant dance of curiosity shifting between his fidgeting fingers and his pensive expression.

You sat there, quietly studying him for a few moments, pondering on what’s occupying his thoughts. Something about him seemed amiss, though you couldn't quite pinpoint it.

You leaned into him, your body brushing against his as your lips drew close to his ear, your voice a soft whisper. "You're not typically one to fidget with your hands. Is something on your mind, Ominis?"

Your closeness seemed to have a calculated impact, causing his demeanor to subtly shift. The sound of the parchment ceased as he turned his focus toward you, his face adorned with a serene mask of calmness. "Hmm? Oh, no. Nothings on my mind."

Your concern etched lines of worry onto your brow, still convinced that something weighed heavily on his mind, but he wasn’t budging.

"Ominis..." you hummed, your hand gently finding its place against his thigh, your voice carrying a soothing, reassuring tone. "You know you can talk to me."

In a fleeting moment, all his defenses crumbled. A lump formed in his throat, your sweet, captivating scent enveloping him like a warm embrace. The gentle brush of your hand against his thigh ignited an indescribable sensation deep within him. In that moment, he wished for time to stand still, for this instant to stretch into eternity. Just you and him, a world apart from everyone else—a world far from Sebastian. It all faded into obscurity. It was as if only the two of you existed in that space.

You couldn't help but notice how your presence seemed to have a calming effect on him. Your fingers traced a gentle, reassuring path up and down his thigh, and a soft, affectionate grin danced at the corners of your lips as you observed him intently. He looks so sweet…

In this sanctuary, Ominis felt a newfound comfort, an urge to confide in you, to lay bare everything that had tormented him, and perhaps even to express the emotions he'd kept concealed for so long. He yearned to spill it all out, to finally lay his heart on the table.

Just as he was about to speak, a subtle squeeze from your hand against his thigh brought him back to reality. His lashes faltered, and with a soft, deliberate hold, his hand grazed against yours, seemingly hesitant to speak.

His lips were parted, and for a brief moment, he seemed as if he was on the brink of saying something, but his lips drew a line. Instead, he took in a deep breath, casually flipping to the next page in his book with a flick of his wand.

"You needn’t worry about me, I'm fine," Ominis insisted, his words carefully neutral. "I just couldn’t find sleep."

You sighed, not entirely convinced by his statement, but willing to go with it. "How come?" You inquired gently, your fingers naturally gravitating toward the comforting warmth of his inner thigh.

His breath hitched for a mere second, the feeling of your hand tantalizingly close clouded his mind with your sweet, intoxicating presence.

"Sleep often seems to evade me more times than I care to count. So I opted for some light reading in the common room last night," he began, his voice steady. A momentary pause followed as he carefully considered his next words. He taps his nail against the parchment with an unsettledness. “Just as I was wrapping up on my reading, a rather… perplexing encounter held me.”

His eyes lined up with keen perception as he sensed your hand twitch in response to his words, a restrained, sly grin tugging at the corners of his lips. He knew he had you hooked.

"Oh? And… who might’ve that been?" Your words faltered, your heart beginning to race as the realization set in, that you had unwittingly walked into his cunning little trap.

"Sebastian," he stated firmly, the pretense of an unruffled countenance still in place as he smoothly turned to the next page in his book.

"S— Sebastian, huh?" You gradually withdrew your hand from his thigh, fingers curling around the contours of your book as you anxiously flipped through several pages.

"Any thoughts on why he might have been up after curfew?" He nonchalantly twirled his wand between his fingers, deliberately taking his time as he keenly detects your composure slowly unraveling beside him.

"No— not at all. Why would I have any insight?” You brought your hand to your lips, your teeth nibbling nervously at your nails as your thoughts begin to race.

"Really, now?" He leaned back, drawing in a deep breath as he meticulously assessed the situation. "I had thought you two were rather… close. Mayhaps I judged wrong," he mused, his finger idly tracing the edges of his book, waiting for your next answer.

You cleared your throat, collecting your hair in your hands as you lifted it up off your neck and sweeping it aside to cool off.

“We should get back to studying, Ominis.” You mumbled quietly, adverting your attention back to your books.

A pit formed within his midriff, an uneasy sensation coursing through him as he discerned that you had just lied to him and casually brushed aside his inquiry. Lost in his thoughts, something had sparked his attention, a faint, distant sound emanating several tables away. His ears perked as he found himself inexplicably drawn into the poison of hushed whispers and muted laughter.

"Did you see that mark on her neck?"

"Gods, what is it?"

"Isn't it obvious? It's a hickey!"

"Merlin's Beard... who do you think it was?"

"I bet you 5 Galleons it was Sebastian Sallow."

"What— no way."

"You think she's been snogging Sallow?"

"By the looks of it, she's been doing more than just snogging." The subdued group of students snickered amongst themselves.

"And…. guess what I saw last night… I saw the two of them leaving the castle after curfew."

"What, really..? That's foul... and she has the audacity to put her hands all over Gaunt— are you going to report it to the Headmaster?"

“Not yet, I’m waiting for the perfect moment.”

“You sneaky little minx.”

“She deserves it. I can’t wait to see her crumble.”

"She should be ashamed of herself...”

"Isn't one enough? Leave the rest of them for us."

“She’s such a slut.”

A flush of crimson spread across Ominis' face as his anger surged like a rising tide within. His fists clenched together in a white-knuckled grip, his imagination running wild with scenarios from last night, each one more maddening than the last. Thoughts became an impenetrable fog, clouding his usually sharp mind. His jaw clenched as he slammed his book shut, the resounding thud echoing throughout the library. He stormed out, leaving behind a wake of turbulent emotions.

Ominis could hear his heart ringing in his ears. The whole world around him fading into a distant blur as he pushed himself through the crowded halls. His nails dig into the handle of his wand as anger, frustration, and jealousy envelopes him whole. The thought of you doing something so vile with his best friend tinged his heart. He felt as if the air was sucked right out of his lungs, his own emotions strangling him.

You sat there, bewildered by his sudden outburst. Trying to make sense of what just happened, you close your books in a hurry, leaving them behind as you quickly followed suit. Your eyes glued to the back of his pristine button-up as you chased after him, deftly slipping through the turbulent sea of students and nearly stumbling over an outstretched foot.

"Om— Ominis, wait…" your voice caught as you hastily found your footing, resolutely following his swift path into an unassuming classroom, leaving behind a clear path of confused faces.

As you enter the classroom, your eyes swept across the empty space, finding no trace of Ominis. You take a hesitant step back, perplexed. Suddenly, the wooden doors behind you click shut. You quickly pivot around to find Ominis standing there, blocking the only exit out.

“Ominis…” you muttered, standing there frozen and confused as an uneasiness settled within your midriff.

His eyes almost gleamed with a shade of green, as if a dormant darkness within him had awakened. A pure-blood Gaunt, a direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin, the snake with no eyes, now revealed itself. His once-hidden frustrations surged to the surface, directed towards you. His body burned with resentment, hands trembling at his sides.

"Tell me," he demanded, his voice low and tinged with a threatening edge, leaving no room for evasion or lies. "What were you doing with Sebastian last night?"

A sudden chill runs down your spine, as if he could actually see into your soul. You stagger back, your heart racing in response to his probing question.

"What do you mean..?" you stammered, desperately searching your mind for any little thing to grab at.

Your heart pounded in your chest, caught between the fear of angering him and the guilt of keeping the truth from him. You hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of Ominis’ words pressing down on you, but you couldn't bring yourself to admit it, not yet. The room seemed to close in and crackle with tension, clashing with your desire to protect the truth.

"I— I was…" your words faltered as Ominis took an intimidating step forward. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip, struggling to find the right words. Your tongue felt heavy, surrendering yourself to complete silence.

Suddenly, he lunges forward, his fingers wrapping around your jaw, pivoting you around, and slamming you against the closed doors. His breath brushes against your lips as he leans in, his eyes effortlessly locked onto yours.

You winced, your eyes squeezing tight from the sudden force, his hold around your jaw softening as his fingers grazed down your neck.

"You were?" He asked, his voice baring a darkness you hadn’t seen before.

"I... I was just... studying," you muttered, attempting to maintain the facade, but the heat of his body pressed against yours and his possessive hold shattered your composure.

Your mind raced, torn between your desire to protect Sebastian and the overwhelming presence of Ominis. His demeanor was suffocating, hard to resist the urge to spill the truth, but you stubbornly clung to your feeble lie.

Every word you spoke, every lie you told, was like fuel to the fire. His fingers encircled around your throat, tightening with warning. "Tell me then, what's this?" he inquired, the pads of his fingers pressing into the tender, bruised skin below your jaw.

You yelped, your hand reaching for his wrist in a desperate attempt to relieve some of the pressure. He took your hand in his, pinning it against the wooden doors. With a low, frustrated growl, he eased his grip from around your throat, his fingers still remaining over the mark.

“Speak,” he said, as if you were some pet of his to command.

You gasped, finally able to breathe, your head spinning. "Ominis, what's happened to you?" you whispered, your voice colored with confusion.

He grew tired of waiting for an answer. His mind filling in all the details on its own. He pushes your jaw to the side with his thumb as he leans into the crook of your neck, his breath scraping against your skin. His soft lips brushed across your bruise, that same dark whisper filling his head with poisoned words.

“You like this?” He growled, his lips barely transgressing against your skin.

Your voice caught in your throat as Ominis' grip tightened, preventing you from speaking.

"Have something to say, do you?" Ominis’ voice dripped with irritation at your feeble attempt to speak.

An agonizing silence enveloped the room as you nervously shook your head in response.

"I didn’t think so." He sinks his teeth into your bruise, eliciting a pained wince from your lips. The warm caress of his tongue against your skin, paired with his piercing teeth digging into your neck sent an indescribable sensation pooling between your thighs. His hand snaked from your throat and down your waistline, gripping into your hip. A sharp gasp escaped your lips as his knee stopped you from squeezing your thighs together.

He had you within his grasp, a pretty little thing trembling against the doors. In this moment, you were unequivocally his, a possession to be claimed. The air felt thick and heavy. He relished in the power he held over you, knowing he could do anything to you. It was crystal clear: You were his to mark, not Sebastian’s, his. And he intended to make that known.

"You like being a little slut for me?" He drags his lips agonizingly slow against your skin, catching your breath.

Despite the fear and the turbulent emotions, an undeniable surge of desire coursed through you. Ominis' dominance had awakened a primal longing within you, and your response was unmistakable. Your breath hitched, and your body caved into your desire, your hips arching slightly against his knee.

Ominis was acutely aware of your response. A sly smirk curled his lips as he felt the subtle shift in your body, the way you arched against his knee, the way your arm fell limp within his grasp, and the subtle wavering within your breath. It was evident of the power he held over you.

Ominis couldn’t help but taunt you further, his voice dripping with possessiveness and a hint of cruelty. “You feel that?” he whispered, pressing his knee against your damp knickers.

Overcome by lust, you found yourself writhing in place, unable to contain the fiery yearning that coursed through your veins. Your heart hammered within your chest, a relentless rhythm of anticipation and longing, each beat echoing the insatiable need for more. Every inch of your skin felt like it was burning, burning for his touch.

Ominis, consumed by his desire, pushed your thighs apart with a dominating force, making it clear who was in control. He pressed his hips into you, his hunger evident in the way he held you against the doors. There was no denying the raw and burning need he felt for you in that moment.

“You like being fucked so hard there’s bruises all over your pretty little skin?” He growled through gritted teeth, his grip around your wrist constricting. The anger in his voice sent tremors through your body, leaving you almost afraid to utter a word. A barely audible gasp escaped your trembling lips.

He couldn't fathom how you could lose your self-control so easily under such circumstances. His mind seethed with jealousy and anger. Were you always this easy to rile up? Is this what you and Sebastian do when he’s not around? Is that what you want from him? Unable to contain his rage any longer, he lashed out, slamming his hands against the wooden doors, staggering backwards.

"Is this what you want? Isn't Sebastian enough for you? You think you can go around putting your pretty little hands on guys and expect us to fuck you? You're— you’re such a..." He growled, his voice a mixture of anger and hurt.

Ominis leaned back against an empty desk, running his fingers over his jaw, a look of shame crossing his face. Tears brimmed in his eyes as he attempted to collect himself, but the damage was done. He knew he had lost control and shattered any chance of friendship that remained between the two of you. With a heavy sigh, he buried his face in his trembling hand, overwhelmed by the strangling feeling he has in his heart.

You were left speechless, your heart aching at his distress. With cautious steps, you moved towards him, your hand finding purchase against his shoulder as your thumb brushed with a soothing comfort.

"Ominis…" you whispered softly, your voice wavering with concern and immense sadness. "Please, just talk to me… What's going on with you? Why did you say such hurtful things?"

You settled down next to him, your hand gently gliding down his back. "This… this isn't like you, Ominis..." You pressed your forehead against his shoulder, wrapping your arm around his waist, embracing him from behind.

The softness within your voice melted away all his defenses. Unable to contain his turmoil any longer, he began to unravel, pouring out the torment that had consumed him. His voice quivered. It sounded like he was on the brink crying. Your embrace around him tightened, unable to bear the sound of his shuddering voice.

"Please…" your voice trembled as you pleaded in him, the agonizing prick of tears welling within your eyes.

Ominis drew in a deep breath, attempting to regain some semblance of composure. Slowly, he lifted his head from his hand, his gaze, blankly fixed upon the floor.

"It was him, wasn't it?" His voice held a note of anguish, as if he didn’t want the truth at all.

"What was him?" You asked gently, lifting your head from his shoulder and resting your chin against its curve.

He took a few moments, taking in deep, shuddering breaths as he tried to come to terms with it himself. “That bruise along your neck… It was Sebastian.”

"What?" You furrowed your eyebrows, your fingers instinctively brushing across the mark that adorned itself just below your jaw. "This?" Confusion filled your voice as your mind raced with questions. “No— Sebastian never hurt me, why would you think that?”

He leans forward, elbows resting against his knees, his hands clenching in visible disarray. "Not hurt you…" he uttered with an evident struggle in his voice. His head turns toward you as you break from the one-sided embrace. Your eyes traced along his pained face, tears glossing over. You tenderly cupped his cheek, urging him to face you.

“Ominis…” you murmured softly. “What then?”

He slowly picked his arm up, his fingers gliding over your caress with gentleness, nuzzling his cheek into your hand. This warmth was what he so desperately needed. His gaze lowered with somberness, his other hand reaching out to hold yours within your lap.

He shifted towards you, his hand falling from his cheek, finding purchase against your thigh. He appeared hesitant, at a loss for words— his mind wrangling with itself to even speak.

"That mark," he started, his head still lowered. "It was from making love, wasn't it?"

You sat there, blinking for a moment, caught off guard by his accusation. Speechless, you almost let out a baffled laugh but quickly restrained it. "Making love?" you retorted, your hand lowering from his cheek as you wrapped your fingers around his nape, drawing him in closer.

You pressed your forehead against his, gazing into his soft ocean eyes. "Listen to me, Ominis… There’s nothing going on between me and Sebastian,” you hushed, your voice filled with sincerity.

He pulls away with furrowed brows, disbelief etched across his face. You clasped your hands around his, pulling him back in. "Ominis, please… This bruise here, it was from an encounter with goblins. Sebastian and I… we snuck out of the castle last night. We wanted to have a little fun, go for a midnight adventure,” you paused briefly, a heavy sigh filling the air. “But I… I got into a little trouble. I messed up my footing and a goblin attacked me. I was exhausted. Sebastian had to carry me back to the castle… I’m so sorry, Ominis. I should’ve been honest with you… I had no idea how much this pained you."

He felt ashamed, he felt hopeless, and he felt so, so indescribably ignorant. The weight of his emotions hung heavy within the air.

“I promise you, there’s no other man out there that has my heart,” you continued softly, your words piquing his interest. Ominis slowly lifted his chin as his gaze fell upon you.

Your lips curled into a sweet smile, brushing your thumb in soothing circles over his hands. “No one else, but you.”

His lashes faltered, and that very pit within his stomach had completely vanished. He felt all the heaviness within him lifted, the venomous whispers within his head— gone, replaced by a sense of clarity and peace."No one else?" He asked softly, his voice broken.

“Ominis, I love you… I love you so much that it pains me. It pains me to see you like this. I fell in love with that very sweetness you hold so deep within your heart. You’re someone special to me…” you wavered, the weight of your confession hanging in the air, your heart pounding within your chest as the gravity of your words settled between you both like a weightless plume.

He gently withdraws his hand from your grasp, his fingers tenderly tracing along your jaw as he clasped his hand just below your ear. His soft touch sent a shiver down your spine as he tilts your head back, his thumb brushing against your cheek, pressing his longing lips against yours.

Your eyes fluttered shut, savoring the sweet taste of his affection, your lips molding together in a tender, passionate kiss. In that moment, the world around you faded into insignificance. Everything that had just transpired, gone. All that remains now is the unyielding confession of love. The kiss lingered until he finally pulled away, his lips hovering just an inch from yours.

His warm breath caressed your lower lip as he spoke in an unwavering, gentle, and remorseful tone. "I've loved you from the moment I met you, more deeply than I could ever express. I've tried to hide it, to bury it, but it's always been there… burning within me. You mean more to me than words can convey, and I can't imagine my life without you."

Ominis’ voice quivered with emotion, "I love you with everything I am, and I always will, no matter what. I love you, all that you are, my dear little bird. I’m so… so so—"

You cut him off before he sank back into his darkness, your lips locking together in a fervent embrace. His brows furrowed as his lips followed suit, firmly. The kiss deepened, a passionate, unending surge of emotion that left you both breathless. In that moment, it felt like everything had finally fallen into place, and your hearts were bound together as one.

You wanted to reassure him, to make him understand that he had nothing to worry about. Your heart belonged to him and him alone. You hooked your leg over Ominis’ hip, gently lowering yourself into his lap. He wrapped his hand around your waist with a tender embrace.

With a shared urgency, you captured his bottom lip between your teeth, eliciting soft sigh past his lips. In the midst of your heated kisses, soft whispers of, “I love you,” flowed freely between you both. It was as if those three words had become a cherished refrain, a reminder of your unwavering love for each other, and neither of you could get enough of it.

Your kisses became a sweet storm. Peppering his lips as your hands cradled his jaw, your hips moving in a rhythm of their own, swaying with the desire that coursed through your veins.

A burning sensation snapped you back to reality, a tantalizing stiffness pressing against your knickers, awakening you from the flames. You were acutely aware of the desire that had burned between you.

Unable to resist, you both tumbled against the desk, your lips still locked in a fiery embrace. The kisses turned heated, sloppy, and wet as you explored eachothers cavity with unbridled hunger. His grip around your hip tightened, pressing you firmly against his arousal, a quiet moan of pleasure escaped your lips. Desire pooled between your thighs, wetting his trousers from the friction.

With a final, lingering kiss, you gradually poised yourself up, straddling him with your hands pressed against his chest. Your cheeks flushed with a rosy hue, but something about his presence made you feel safe and unashamed. The embarrassment you anticipated seemed to melt away in his soft, gentle touch.

A sweet, contented smile graced your lips as you began to roll your hips, a gentle grind that pressed your soaked knickers against his clothed arousal, eliciting a soft, quiet hum from Ominis’ lips.

He tilted his head back with a warm moan, the sharp contour of his jaw capturing your attention. You reached for his hands, delicately intertwining your fingers with his, guiding his touch as you circled your hips. A quiet sigh of pleasure escaped your lips, filling the thick air around you.

Ominis’ lips parted, eliciting an unrestrained moan as his cock twitches beneath you. He lost full control over his hips, incapable to stop them from moving in rhythm with yours. This was everything he had ever yearned for— your sweet hands in his, the soft, quiet moans that slipped past your lips, the constant whispers of affirmation. Yet, amidst this symphony of pleasure, there was one thing he longed to hear… the sweet sound of you moaning his name.

Feeling your hands withdraw from their loving embrace and hearing the subtle rustling of fabric above him, Ominis reached out, gently clasping your hands in his once again.

"Allow me," he whispered in a tender tone, his desire to adore you evident in his gentle pale eyes.

Your hands slowly dropped as he began to unbutton your blouse with a tantalizing slowness, savoring every moment so he could etch this memory into eternity. His fingers brushed across your shoulders, unable to resist the urge to whisper with admiration, "So soft..." He slid your blouse over your shoulders, allowing it to pool around your elbows. Your fingers curled under the rim of his trousers, eagerly reciprocating the desire.

Ominis, however, wasn't met with the expected sensation of a bra strap along your shoulders. Instead, he found himself intrigued, his fingers tracing down your collarbone until they reached the supple, sensitive flesh at the curve of your breast. His feather-light touch sent a cascade of goosebumps dancing across your skin, eliciting a subtle sigh of approval from your parted lips. His large hands then enveloped your breast, gently squeezing and kneading without hesitation.

Your eyes locked onto his almost devious grin. You unhooked your fingers from under his trousers and smoothly shimmied the rest of your blouse off, your gaze then moving toward his buttoned shirt, relinquishing it’s hold. You pushed open the flaps of his shirt, your eyes feasting on the sight of his well-formed figure. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip as your fingers trailed down his chest, tracing the dots that adorned his pale flesh in a playful zigzag pattern until they reached his hip. He was truly a vision of beauty, and in this moment, you couldn't fathom how he could doubt your desire for him over anyone else, even Sebastian.

"Ominis… I want you," you whispered, the words dripping with desire.

"Then take me," he dared, his expression sweet and inviting, in stark contrast to everything below.

Your cheeks blazed with a deep, rosy hue as you bit into your cheek, his words leaving you breathless with desire. With a sultry grace, you lifted yourself onto your knees, your hands working deftly to tug down his trousers and briefs just enough to reveal his hard, throbbing cock. It was much larger than you had imagined when you were grinding against him, and the sight left you speechless. Even his length was adorned with a scattering of freckles.

His hands, warm and tender, snaked up your thighs, just under your skirt, cradling them with a gentle hold. He showed incredible patience, letting you take your time and go at your own pace. You reached below you, your fingers curling around the soaked fabric that clung to your heated flesh. Pulling them aside, you wrapped your fingers around his base, slowly lowering yourself onto him.

The pink crown of his arousal glistened with pre-cum, slipping between your slick folds as you guided him into your eager core. His length squeezed into you inch by inch, eliciting a joined shudder. Ominis tightened his grip around your thighs as he felt your cunt slowly enveloping his length, drawing him deeper inside you. A hushed wince escaped your lips as he pushed you firmly against his hips.

A low, guttural curse slipped from Ominis’ tongue, the agonizing sensation of your tight cunt gripping around his cock with raw hunger.

With slow, deliberate movements, you took control, lifting your hips and sensually lowering yourself onto him, savoring every inch of his throbbing desire as it filled you completely. Finding a rhythm that sent waves of pleasure coursing through your bodies. Ominis' hands ventured further under your skirt, his fingers clasping possessively around your hips, pressing deeply into your skin as you surrendered yourself to the veil of desire.

The sensation of his pulsating cock reaching deep within you, hitting the depths of your cunt and clenching around his cock in a strangling hold. It was everything he had ever fantasized about. The tantalizing stride and rolls of your hips, the softness and warmth of your skin touching his. The labored breaths and sweet moans he elicited out of you, it felt so fucking good.

The way you rolled your hips and took his cock like it was meant for you. How your body trembled every time he hit that sensitive spot. The desperate moans escaping your lips as he started to force your movements quicker by your hips. It drove him mad, mad for you. He craved more, wanting to hear those pretty little lips of yours gasp and scream his name, and he knew exactly how to make that happen.

With a firm grip around your hips, he easily maneuvered, rolling you onto your back and positioning himself over you. With one hand supporting his weight, his other guided the underside of your thigh until it was pressed against your side.

"Ominis, wai—"

He silenced your protests with a deep, penetrating thrust that sent a loud moan spilling from your lips. His nails dug into the soft flesh of your thigh as a sly grin curled at the corners of his lips. Your slick cunt tightened around his cock as he continued with long, measured strides in and out of your slick heat, drawing a soft yelp from the depths of your throat. Your hand clutched around his forearm, anchoring yourself as he quickened his pace.

"Ah, fuck..." you winced, furrowing your brows in pleasure as he drove into you relentlessly.

A deep, guttural groan reverberated within his throat as he reveled in the tightness of your cunt. He shifted his hand from your thigh to support his weight against the desk, looming over you with a demeanor that made you feel small and trapped beneath his towering figure.

He may be blind, but Ominis was attuned to your every desire, intimately aware of what turned you on. A sly grin danced along his lips as he continued his relentless thrusts, each one hitting that sweet spot that drove you mad.

He swooped down, burying his face into the crook of your neck as his labored breaths crashed against your skin. The sweet sound of your whimpers riled something familiar within him. "You like that?" he growled against your neck.

You gasped, your nails digging into his forearm as your body shuddered from his words. A subtle sneer lathered your tender neck with hungry kisses and soft bites.

His lips trailed sensuously along your neck, planting soft, teasing kisses against your earlobe. “I know you like this,” he grunted, his hips driving into you with hard, measured thrusts that left you gasping with desperate approval. The needy whines that escaped your lips were all the affirmation he needed. His tongue traced the contours of your ear, soft nips and low growls that sent shivers down your spine.

"Oh fuck, Ominis..." you pleaded, gasping for air as he relentlessly pounded into you.

“You’re so tight…” he snarled, his voice thick with desire, peppering your ear and neck with a trail of hungry kisses and licks. His pace slowed into long, tantalizing strides, all the while bearing knowing smile.

"Ominis, please..." you whimpered softly, your nails digging further into his skin.

"Please, what?" His voice shuddered, sinking his teeth into your neck as he maintained his steady pace.

"Oh, fuck… please—"

He hummed against your skin, seemingly oblivious to your intent, relishing in the sweet desperation of your trembling voice.

"Please… fuck me harder," you exasperated, writhing beneath him.

He gripped your hip in place, preventing your movements as he continued with his slow, ruthless strides.

"What’s my name," he demanded, his voice a heated whisper against your ear.

You panted heavily, your thighs trembling at his hips, your voice a sultry plea, “Fuck me harder, Ominis…” Before you could finish the rest of his name, he slammed his hips into you with a hungry growl against your ear. You bucked your hips with an arch of your back, eliciting a yelp that echoed within the halls of the castle.

“Good girl,” he whispered, sending an intoxicating blaze of fire coursing through your body. With every forceful thrust, a torrent of pleasure surged within you, an unrelenting tempest that threatened to consume your very being. A knot of insatiable desire coiled deep within your midriff, pulling tighter with each invasion of his hips.

Sweat glistened across your entwined bodies, his movements a fevered dance of untamed lust and longing. Your nails etched fiery trails along Ominis’ back, branding him with your passion. The pain that etched along his back soon became pleasure as he lost full control of himself. The classroom echoed with a crescendo of fervent gasps and uninhibited moans.

As he surrendered to his primal desires, his voice became a sultry serenade, a soft trail of parseltongue with unbridled lust slipping from his lips like a seductive spell. He teetered on the precipice of release, the moment of climax drawing tantalizingly near with each scorching thrust.

His head hangs low, driven by an insatiable need as he plunges deep into you, his hips etching a delicious soreness into your supple flesh. Your thighs trembled against his hips, helpless to resist the throbbing sensation as he fills your needy little cunt to the brim, spewing threads of his warm, sticky desire that claimed you as his.

Exasperated curses punctuated the air, escaping your lips as your body contracts beneath his rigid thrusts. Your back arches with a deep curve, your hips locked in a drunken lust as he fills you to the rim. Ominis hovers above you, his chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath, his thoughts lost in the intoxicating haze of euphoria.

A heated warmth seeps from your defiled cunt, dribbling sensuously against the smooth wooden desk beneath you. Ominis, with a heavy and contented sigh, begins to slowly withdraw, his cock sliding out with a wet, suctioning noise that lingers in the air.

You gaze at him through half-lidded lashes, your face carrying the unmistakable weight of exhaustion, each breath labored with fire. Ominis' well-satisfied cock twitches, strings of cum dripping from his tip.

With an almost inconceivable smirk, Ominis runs his fingers through his tousled hair, his freckled cheeks flushed from exertion. “You’re mine, you know that?” He said softly, delicate beads of sweat tracing along the contours of his midriff, a captivating sight only for you to see.

You nodded obediently, with a soft, weary sigh, “I’m yours.”

He left you utterly spent, your body feeling heavy against the wooden desk. Your legs remained parted, trembling from the aftermath, as you struggled to catch your breath, your mind remained shrouded in a tantalizing fog of lingering lust.

“Ominis…” your voice wavered, still carrying the heat of the fervent moment.

A mischievous chuckle escaped his lips as he gazed at you with desire-fueled hunger. “Round two?” His suggestion hung in the air, a tempting invitation to plunge back into the depths of pleasure once more.

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bitbybitwrites · 30 days ago

Text

I was tagged by : @porcelainmortal, @alasse9 @forabeatofadrum

Thanks for thinking of me! . . I should really do this before 2024 is up, right? 😂

BTW its still Dec 31 here where I am, so I'll say it counts.

I've done a lot more than I expected this year, as I look back. And I'm kind of proud of myself.

I started writing for another fandom - RWRB. Its been fun adding these characters to the mix.

I managed finishing 1 multi-chapter fic and a 11 shorter fics.

I'm still plugging away on 3 longer multi-chapter WIP, adding and posting chapters as I go.

I have compiled an additional WIP list of (*stops to count*) 16 other fics that are not posted yet, but are in various stages of readiness. I flitter around adding bits to each when inpiration hits.

I think that's about it for me for 2024 - still writing, slow and steady. 😊

I'm always so happy to see any of kudos and comments if you have left any . . . and I'm still really apologetic that I haven't gotten to responding to many. There's only so much time in the day. I will try to get to them!

WRITING GOALS FOR 2025: Basically write more, and write as often as I can. There are so many of my WIP I want to get into and finish . . hopefully some of you will find them interesting to read!

Wishing you all a Happy New Year and a productive and creative 2025! I look forward to seeing/reading all you create!

See links and descriptions to everything under the cut!

1.) COMPLETED FICS

April 2024

Falling For You (Klaine fic) - 26,089 words

Summary:

Kurt Hummel thought by donating his services as a florist to Memorial Sloan Kettering, that he would simply be giving back to the medical community. A good deed for the month of December. Little did he know that a few chance run-ins with an adorable doctor and a sweet little girl in the hospital lobby would change all that. Written for the Klaine Secret Santa 2023 Gift Exchange.

May 2024

Pretty Shiny things (Klaine fic) - 1,943 words

Summary:

The clangs and shrieks of the alarm system at Christie's Auction House filled the corridors, echoing through the mostly empty building. They were just as loud as the beating of Kurt and Blaine's hearts as they raced down corridor after corridor while they attempted to escape. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Kurt growled through his teeth as he ran, slipping slightly on the polished marble floor as he turned another corner. “I leave you alone for five minutes . . . FIVE MINUTES, Blaine. What on earth did you do?” **** Discovered a fun new thing on Tumblr called Ficlet Friday. This ficlet was inspired by a dialogue prompt by annepi: Prompt: Klaine - “I leave you alone for five minutes...”

June 2024

hold me close (FirstPrince fic) - 836 words

Summary:

Alex has had a rough day. It's a good thing that Henry's home to take care of him. For a Ficlet Friday prompt : "Tell me anything. Everything.”

blythe spirit (FirstPrince fic) - 1,756 words

Summary:

“I . . . I don't know why you're even interested." “Baby, I love you. I'm interested in everything about you." Alex gave Henry a very pointed and heated look that definitely hit the mark. The flush on Henry’s face now deepened. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth for a few moments as he considered his options. “Come on,” Alex softly cajoled. “You can’t just say things like: ‘I played Elvira in a school production of Blythe Spirit’ and not expect me to ask for pictures . . or at least the lowdown on it all.” Alex pouted again to prove his point. “I’m a weak man, H. These are the types of things I need to know more about.” ***** From a Friday Ficlet prompt: "Tell Me anything. Everything."

nightfall (Klaine fic) - 219 words

Summary:

Blaine sighed as he collapsed onto the sand. With his chin upon his knees and arms wrapped around his legs, Blaine gazed out toward the ocean, deciding that the purple-ish pink sky that stretched out before him was absolutely breathtaking. If only he had his camera with him. It would be a perfect addition to his next gallery exhibit. ***** Based off a Tumblr Prompt/Ask Game - "Create a microstory from the prompt selected" Thanks to Falles for giving me: "49 - nightfall"

i'll always come back to you (FirstPrince fic) - 504 words

Summary:

Alex will always come back to Henry . . .always Based on a microstory prompt: #32 - dust motes

July 2024

fire island follies (Klaine fic) - 3,027 words

Summary:

Blaine Anderson is off to a weekend on Fire Island - well, his good friend Santana is draggng him on one. He's not so sure it's the best thing to do - but a run-in with a beautiful performer from the Fire Island Follies quickly changes his mind. ****** From a Tumblr Friday Ficlet prompt from bowtiesandboatshoes : "We're going to Fire Island. It's like gay Disney World." Title is from an actual burlesque/cabaret show: The Fire Island Follies

i hate waiting (FirstPrince fic) - 555 Words

Summary:

Alex needs to keep his daughter from being bored. inspired by this adorable picture on Tumblr by wordsofhoneydew

study date (Klaine fic) - 945 words

Summary:

"Get your hands off me!" The sound of a scuffle had Kurt look up from his reading. To be honest, Divination was such a bore of a class. It's not like he needed to learn anything new about it. Kurt had all of his mother's crystals, divination tools, and journals tucked away in her old trunk up in the attic of their home. He could read tea leaves and scry with the best of them. He had long ago lost focus on the chapter Professor Holiday had assigned them for the evening, so at this point, any other distraction would be welcome. Even if it was prefect duties.

Originally this was a bit of a false start for my fic, Advanced Potions

The original prompt was "hogwarts!au + 4. meet messy + 6. "what is that?"

August 2024

what can compare with your beautiful sound (Klaine fic) - 1,183 words

Summary:

Kurt’s brow furrowed as he concentrated on the task at hand. He had to get it just right. His hand hovered just a few inches higher, and with a deft flick of his wrist, a drop of wax fell from the lit candle in his hand to his canvas below. The canvas moaned in ecstasy. “Now, darling, we don’t want to shift, now do we?" Kurt softly murmured as he leaned in close. "You've been such a good boy for me so far." ***** Based off of a microstory prompt from Tumblr : "candles"

November 2024

smutsgiving/wanksgiving 2024: rwrb/firstprince - 662 words

Summary:

Prince Henry has been given a new gift for his bedchamber. Entry for Smutsgiving/Wanksgiving 2024.

smutsgiving/wanksgiving 2024: klaine - 580 Words

Summary:

Dinner was lovely, but Blaine is really ready to go home. Entry for Smutsgiving/Wanksgiving 2024.

2.) PARTIALLY PUBLISHED WIP:

(Klaine) If I Can Make Your Heart My Home - (Klaine Reverse Bang 2023) Life in New York City and working in the restaurant industry wasn’t exactly what Kurt Hummel had expected it would be. He’s lonely, stressed out and miserable. He’s almost ready to throw in the towel and return home to Ohio when a chance meeting with a musician in Central Park changes everything. (Warning: an angsty rollercoaster of a ride. Soooo many cameos from Glee characters! 😉)

(RWRB) Puppy Love - (RWRB NYE gift exchange 2023) The cold snowy day that Henry Fox discovers an abandoned beagle puppy in an alley brings handsome, flirty veterinarian, Alex Claremont-Diaz into his life. Alex is a single dad, recently moved to NY with his young son who Henry hasn't met yet - or so Alex thought. (Fluffy kid!fic)

(Klaine) Sanctuary - (Klaine Word Scramble 2023) Crown Prince Blaine has stumbled into a secluded glade, trying to escape the horrors of the bloody war his father had brought upon their kingdom. Mourning his beloved older brother and faced with the burden of taking his place in the kingdom, Blaine yearns for a place to hid from the world to deal with the issues weighing on his heavy heart. He encounters a mysterious elf, the guardian of the magical spring that Blaine has mistakenly defiled, whose growing connection to his life the young prince can't ignore. (Inspired by an idea/ artwork by @datshitrandom and @justgleekout)

3.) WIP FICS TO FINISH AND POST

My WIP list can be found here! I keep it updated. Feel free to ask me about any of them if you're curious . . 🥰. Hoping to finish some of these in the coming year.

******

OK so ( as usual) I'm late to post - so if anyone hasn't done this yet and wants to - take my big open tag for it and maybe some of these folks might want to do one of these wrap ups as well?

Tagging ( participate only if you want to): @wowbright, @gleefulpoppet, @daisyishedwig, @spaceorphan18 @special-bc-ur-part-of-it

@myheartalivewrites, @14carrotghoul, @thighzp @tailsbeth-writes @onthewaytosomewhere

@sophie1973 @getmehighonmagic @tinyarmedtrex @henrysfox @blueeyedgrlwrites

@kirakiwiwrites @madas-ahatters-world @sarkyblueeyes @heartsmadeofbooks @iboatedhere

@little-escapist @littlemisskittentoes @kurtsascot @hkvoyage @lilinas

Psst. . . and if any fanartists see this and want to share what they've drawn this year, tag me! I'd love to see your work if I've missed some!

#bitbybitwrites #klaine fanfic #klaine fanfiction #klaine fic #klaine #kurt hummel #blaine anderson #rwrb fanfiction #rwrb fanfic #rwrb fic #rwrb #red white and royal blue #firstprince #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #fanfiction

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v3nusxsky · 1 year ago

Note

Hey hope your doing okay. Hope your day is great! I have a ask that I hope you will do it?.

Basically reader is a professional dancer for a bachelor party from one of the staff members in the school. Larissa was invited to one of the brides bachelor party, where reader and other women were hired. (The wedding is between a lesbian couple that work in the school, so no men hired for the bachelor party) but Larissa sees reader and falls in love at first sight (this is a Larissa falls first and reader falls harder story) the bachelor party ends and before Larissa can talk to reader they leave ( leaving Larissa heart broken) . But since the bachelor party Larissa can’t take her mind out of reader. Larissa then has enough and began to research the Internet to be able to find reader, she manages to find reader and began to call her, to ask her on a date,(course saying who she is, seeing that Larissa at least managed to say her name to reader at the party and managing to get readers name) which reader says yes. Larissa begins to woo reader each date they go together.

After all the dates together Larissa managed to woo reader (leading reader to quit her job and start working at the weathervane, a simple job but they pay well) Larissa manages to put a ring on reader’s finger and they marry.

At the night of their honeymoon moon Larissa finally beds her wife, leading to Larissa to pound reader all the honeymoon days and get her pregnant with twins. Which Larissa is over the moon. ( can you write the smut scene completely, with heavy breeding kink, shapeshifting cock, daddy kink, dom and sub kink.

Thank you if you decide to do this request. Happy Mars is happy reading material. 😊🥹😂

Strip for me 18+

*Authors note~ happy Mars = smut = happy readers. I love this prompt sm thank you for sending it in*

Trigger warnings~ heavy breeding kink, shifted g!p Larissa daddy dom Larissa sub r professional dancer r stripper praises degrading kink oral fingering pregnancy overstimulation kink? Squirting belly bulge

Prompt~ see ask^^^^

Larissa was always keen to know her staff were happy, that's why it was of no surprise that Ophelia Rosenberg came to see you with a wedding invitation and of course an invitation to the bachelorette party. Ophelia and Astrid had worked at Nevermore now for years and become trusted members of her staff, ones in which Larissa was very happy to see get their happy ending. Even if she was a little jealous of them. But years of working for this moment Larissa was thrilled to be able to witness it.

October thirtieth was the night of the party, Larissa planning to stay for a couple of hours before retiring for the night gracefully. Well that was her plan until she saw you. From there on she was absolutely smitten, falling hard and fast for you. The surprise of the night being you, a professional dancer. And an absolute stunning woman you were too. Your eyes were what caught Larissa's eyes first, but when you started to dance, she knew she had to try and make a move. Although you didn't fully strip all of your clothing, you did leave little to the imagination which has Larissa rubbing her thighs together in an attempt to soothe the ache. She definitely had to get your name or number, something.

You were just as intrigued by the principal as she was for you, in fact you asked Ophelia for a bit of insight into the woman. After all she could be straight and you wouldn't want to make a fool of yourself now, despite the fact you were in a skimpy outfit your confidence to approach the beautiful woman was non existent. "You're very talented" a voice purred just over your right shoulder but trailing off at the end. "Y/n" you confirmed, turning around to be met with the blonde woman. "Larissa Weems" she murmured back seemingly entranced by you. But that was all you got before you were whisked away from the blonde and unable to find her for the rest of the night. Strangers of the night, if only you could've spoken to her a little longer. Larissa retired for the night with a heavy heart that felt like it would shatter at the false hope her heart felt for the first time in years.

You constantly ran through Larissa's mind since that night, even if she felt it a little inappropriate, she thought of you when she had a hand buried between her own thighs with a whimper of your name. She had to find you, somehow. The memories fresh in her brain, but how long till they'd fade? Now, going to Ophelia or Astrid was an option but she was much to proud for that. So there she decided to go for searching for you alone. After all the internet was very useful. A small problem is you didn't give your last name, so a simple search of your first name and professional dancer soon found the website and your contact details.

On an impulse decision, Larissa began to tap in the phone number before nervously counting the rings. A second chance to know more than your first name being enough to get her through. "Hello?" Your voice washed over her like seeing an old friend. "It's Larissa, the principal of Nevermore? We met at the Bachelorette of my friends?" The blonde nervously got out hoping you wouldn't hang up because that would truly kill her. "Oh! Hello Larissa" you all but purred, "what can I do for you lovely?" Now that was an impeccable question, "go on a date with me?" She rushed out ever so quietly you almost missed it. But you happily agreed to go on a date with the blonde woman, the next Friday at five pm.

The next three days Larissa made sure she sent you a "good morning beautiful" text and tried her hardest to keep a conversation around her work, and planning a prefect date to impress you. She settled for meeting at the weathervane for a hot chocolate and giving you both the opportunity to learn about one another. Then she thought you could take a short walk to the bookstore where you could both pick a book that she would buy for you as a token of your first date and hopefully not the last.

It went perfectly, you both were more and more attracted to one another, a second date would definitely be on the cards, only this time you wanted a chance to plan. Larissa left you that evening with a sweet kiss to your cheek as she walked you to your car. You decided to set up a night in the park where you and Larissa could star gaze, thankfully the blonde loved the idea as she happily listened to you point out the constellations.

After months of dating, Larissa somehow managed to woo you so much that the thought of continuing your job just felt so inappropriate. If anyone would be seeing your body now you wished it would be Larissa. Yet you hadn't got that far in your relationship yet. The furthest you'd gone is a delicious make out session where you ended up on the woman's desk, her hands trailing over your body before she pulled away. Despite your whine in protest Larissa was keen to stick to her views, she'd only go all the way after you were her wife. So when Larissa came to visit you at work and didn't let you take her order you immediately panicked.

Little did you know Larissa would ask the barista to write on your cup, "look for your heart" which was when you caught her down on one knee, very uncharacteristic for the principal but absolutely perfect. You immediately agreed to be her wife, marriage with Larissa Weems would be nothing short of heaven. The weathervane paid well so your income, combined with Larissa's, meant that you're wedding was beautiful, simple yet elegant. Your previous job nothing but a memory but when Ophelia and Astrid attended your wedding they held a special glint in their eyes, knowing they'd somehow helped you both come together.

After the wedding reception you and Larissa decided to stay at night at Nevermore, which had became your home over the past few months. You'd leave for your honeymoon in the morning. "Mrs Weems" Larissa murmured to you softly, revealing in the soft giggle you let lose. "I love you my darling Rissa" you murmured back coming to steal a kiss from your wife. One thing you were sure of was that you'd never tire of kissing Larissa, she was everything you'd ever wanted or needed in life. "Rissa, I need you" you whimpered as you pulled back for air. "And I need you darling, so so bad, why don't you strip for me" she teased gently, loving how you threw your head back with laughter. "Only for my wife" you reassured, "help me with my zip love?"

Larissa happily unzipped your dress before allowing you to help with hers. Watching you step out of the dress leaving you in a beautiful emerald lace set for Larissa's eyes to devour you in. "Emerald?" She quipped and you nodded turning around seeing her eyes darkening with lust. "Like the first night you saw me" you murmured with a wink. All Larissa could do is steal your lips in another passionate kiss that made you feel weak at the knees. Larissa even managed to walk you backward to the bed, before you even realised. Where had her dress gone?

"I'm going to absolutely ravish you my darling girl" she murmured moving to kiss all down the column of your neck, occasionally nipping and sucking at your pulse point. "Oh Rissa" you mewled happily allowing her hands to run over your body leaving goose bumps in their wake. Gently, Larissa helped you from your lace and even allowed you to unclip her own bra, freeing her breasts to you. A strangled gasp left your wife as you immediately took her straining buds into your mouth and sucked gently while the other hand come up to roll the other between your finger and thumb. "Oh my darling girl" she sighed happily, eyes closed as she soaked in the feeling.

Gently, you let go her breast which gave Larissa the chance to kiss all down your body making her way to your core. "Oh baby, you smell absolutely delicious, is this all for me?" She murmured before kissing your plush thighs. "Ris, please, need you" you whimpered as your hips pathetically bucked upwards in a silent plea. Only when she took a swipe of your soaking cunt did you let out a sigh of relief. "Oh fuck!" You whined as you brought your hands to her hair hoping she wouldn't stop. The wait for you has the blonde trying to state a need that was totally insatiable. Larissa plunged her tongue in your core at a seemingly inhuman pace, the closer you got to the edge Larissa latched onto you clit while she curled her fingers to find your sweet spot. That's what had you tumbling over the edge and soaking her hand as she worked you back down from the high.

"Ris-sa" you panted, chest heaving, pupils blown wide and messy hair, "can I? You?" You struggled only to be met with the shake of then blondes head, "another time my love, I have plans for you tonight my darling. I want to breed you over and over until we are sure my seed sticks" Larissa purred once again sucking the soft supple skin of your neck in between her lips to create another purple mark. "Ris, your a woman" you mumbled in confusion. "Oh darling, daddy can take care you, can't you feel it baby?" Larissa let her hand snake to your dripping core.

"Daddy" you whimpered just feeling it on your tongue. "Oh darling I can see how much you like that, you're leaking on the sheets." She murmured to you with a smirk. "Please want you to breed me like you said. I want to have your babies, please fill me up and make sure your seed sticks daddy!" You pleaded with her, without any need because she will give you everything and anything you want. "Gonna make you nice and round with our baby, god you're gonna look so beautiful all swollen and round, and god your breasts so full of milk" Larissa murmured seemingly stuck in her own mind and her own fantasy. You helped Larissa free her new appendage and couldn't help but gasp at the sheer size of her. "Ris, I don't think that will fit."

"Daddy will make it fit, now be a good little slut and come and make it wet for me" she tested and loving how you crawled forward instantly to do as she told you to. "My wife a sweet little whore, all ready to suck daddy off, todays truly heavenly" she murmured watching as you poked your tongue out to taste the precum of her swollen head. The little hum you let out was heavenly before you hollowed your mouth and slowly took her in inch by inch, revealing in the groans of pleasure the blonde let free. The mix of her moans and you gagging on her cock was enough to make her want to blow there and then so she had to slip out of your sweet mouth.

"Lay on the bed my dirty girl, daddy wants to fill your sweet little pussy to the brim." With you in the position she wanted you in before she positioned herself in between your legs, teasing your folds with her sensitive cock head and effectively smothering it in your juices. "Oh please" you whined only to be shut up by her pressing into your aching cunt. "You can move Ris, please I need you."

That was all the permission the blonde woman needed before she could absolutely let herself lose on you. The way your walls milked her shaft, eagerly awaiting every last drop of cum, the whimpers and mewls were simply addicting. The pounding of her hips slamming into yours and the sounds of your slick soaking the skin and sheets. "Daddy! Need cum please" you practically squealed with pleasure as you fell over the edge and Larissa falling with you, releasing long spurts of sticky white seed as she fucked it deep into your core in hopes it would stick.

"Darling, would you, could you give me another my girl? You've done so so well baby, and I love you so much darling." You nodded and decided to take some control leaning up to kiss her. Indulging you for a kiss before she flipped you over onto your hands and knees and instructed you to shift towards the bottom of the bed, her stunning hand finding it's way into your hair, effectively pushing your head into the bed before re entering your fluttering hole. "Oh fuck, it's like you got tighter" Larissa gasped. "Please please pleaseeeee" you whined snaking your own hand down to your achy clit.

"Oh my sweet slut, keep squeezing me like that and I'll be stuffing you with my cum in no time! You'll be sure to be pregnant"she panted as her hips found a steady pace drilling into you. If it was even possible Larissa came inside you even more than the first time causing your stomach to bulge out with just how full you were. Larissa pressing on it caused you to squirt all over the woman, drenching her in your orgasm as you were blissfully fucked out of your mind, only feeling love and contentment. Larissa shifted back to her usual state and immediately began to clean you up and shower you in praises, a perfect day ended with a perfect night. And that was how you and your wife spent your wedding night, in a blissful newlywed bubble.

Two weeks later you felt different, it was hard to explain, but the first time you threw up in the morning, you had a small idea what it could possibly be. Three minutes later a little stick held the answer. Pregnant, meaning Larissa's succeeded in efforts to breed you on your wedding night. When the principal found out she was overjoyed, a family with her beautiful wife was all she ever dreamed of and now she'd be getting that.

Around the third month you had a scan that changed your life. Twins. You were pregnant with two babies, what appeared to be two identical twin girls. More appointments arranged to make sure you and the babies were healthy. When it came to labour and birth, twin b, Isla Arwen Saige Weems arrived at nine at night dead on the dot, and her sister Marilyn Isadora Nova Weems going the world fifteen minutes later, a perfect mix of you and your wife. To think this all came from your old job and a wedding of the girls god mothers.

Word count~ 2881

#anon answered #v3nusxsky answers #fanfic #anon requested #larissa x y/n #larissa weems x reader #larissa #larissa smut #larissa weems #larissa x reader #dom larissa #larissa x you #weems x reader #principal larissa weems #larissa weems smut #principal weems x reader #principal weems #weems #weems smut

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laura1633 · 7 months ago

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you're crazy, charles just had one of the worst race bcs ferrari fuck him up again, and what u think of it was how this circumstances was fit into the prompt some people ask u. please could u be more conciderate to treat him like a human he is and not ur fanfiction tools?

I was going to ignore this ask completely because quite frankly it’s ridiculous, especially given the nature of this blog, but I think there is an important point to be made.

Firstly, this is my blog and I am entitled to post whatever I want.

Secondly, and this might be difficult for you anon, you need to pause and take a second to realise that people react to things in different ways. You might not like RPF or you might only like it within certain circumstances but you certainly don’t speak for everyone. What makes you you think that it is okay for you to dictate how other people deal with their emotions?! I can’t even begin to tell you how narrow minded and inconsiderate that is of you.

I spent the few hours after the race discussing Charles’ situation and speculating on what options he has but then I decided to take a step back. I assume you want me to keep doom posting but I can assure you that that will not improve Charles’ situation. I suppose I could have tried marching to Maranello to try and take control of Ferrari by force but alas I didn’t think of that at the time.

I understand that you might feel frustrated, angry or sad after the race but if seeing fan fiction takes about it makes you this upset then I would suggest, with all sincerity, taking a step away from the internet after a race. It’s up to you though, I am not here to tell you what to do. I just think it is important we realise that this is a sport and we should try not to take on all the stress and negativity of it in our own lives as difficult as that can be sometimes.

This blog is 90% fan fiction and contained to a site where it should not reach Max, Charles or anyone who knows them. When they are racing I support them as drivers but when I am writing about them then I suppose they are fan fiction tools. That doesn’t make them any less human. I find that writing fan fiction about events helps me set the emotions around a race aside rather than carry that negativity around with me.

In short, I think you need to stop being rude to people online (anonymously no less), stop trying to regulate other people’s reactions to things and stop taking away other people’s fun and/or emotional outlets. Charles won’t thank us for it, he doesn’t even know we exist!

If you think this is some gotcha moment I can assure you that it is not. If Charles has another bad race (and I say if because please let Ferrari regroup and come back stronger) but if he has another bad race you best believe that I am fictionally going to make Max fuck him either harder next time thanks to this ask, so hard that Charles won’t remember what team he drives for. I therefore respectfully suggest you block this account to save yourself future stress.

Peace and love and all that though, thanks for stopping by 😂😘

#laura1633 asks

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magicandpizza · 5 months ago

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Thanks for the tag @jazzythursday!

rules: post the names of your wips and open your askbox for questions about them.

I actually don’t have too many WIPs, and most of these will probably end up entirely abandoned, but here goes…

1. A sequel to “We Keep This Dream Together”, my wholesome, slightly chaotic university/coffee shop au. This is the one I’m most likely to finish, once I regain some inspiration. It’s about 2/3 done, I’d say.

2. The descriptively named “My Man Fic”, which is set after Jesper calls Wylan “my man” in the fight in the chapel in S2. Basically just some fluff as they try and discuss what they want their relationship to be.

3. “Weathering The Storm (2.0)”. God I’ve had this idea for so long at this point, and this is my second attempt at making it work but I just… I can’t write fics with plot 😂 Maybe I just need to suck it up and rework it again.

4. I really wanted to write a sort of companion piece to my Wylan 5+1 “Don’t Do Sadness”, but currently “Jesper Character Study” contains about 20 words, so who knows if I’ll end up revisiting it.

I also have a few prompt lists saved for whenever I play my next wesper prompt game, so keep an eye out for that.

And that’s pretty much it! Everything else has been completely sacked off or deleted by now 😇

Open tag for anyone who wants to join in because my brain hurts and idk who’s already been tagged.

#wesper #six of crows #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #shadow and bone #fanfiction #ao3

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the-widow-sisters · 7 months ago

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Could you do Nat and Kate with the prompt “That’s the worst reason I’ve ever heard to kiss somebody.”? 😊

A/N: Thank you so, so much for this request!!! I know I've been terribly behind on requests, but I'm trying to catch back up with them 💖 I've recently gotten a little inspiration to write, so I'm trying to run with it 😂

I hope y'all enjoy! 💗

Word Count: 1.4k+

“That’s the worst reason I’ve ever heard to kiss somebody,” Kate raised her eyebrows, unable to help a slight chuckle, and Natasha shrugged.

“At the time, it was a very good reason,” Natasha pointed out, looking out over the parking lot as she eyed the people passing by.

Currently, Natasha and Kate were sitting in the car as they waited for Yelena and Carol to come back in from the store. Yelena had not originally aimed to go because Carol was the only one getting something from this place since she had wanted new shoes, but after she had picked on Yelena relentlessly before leaving to go inside, she had finally convinced her little buddy to come with her.

So now Natasha and Kate were sitting there passing the time talking and people-watching. Kate had asked Natasha to tell her a story about times gone by, and Natasha thought of a good one about her and Steve when they had been working together when HYDRA had taken over S.H.I.E.L.D.

“Well, I mean, yeah, I guess it makes sense logically with the whole undercover aspect, but like… kissing your friend to make enemies uncomfortable and keep them from looking at you,” Kate shook her head, rubbing her face, and Natasha could not help a slight smirk.

“And this is Steve Rogers? Like Captain America?” Kate checked, and Natasha nodded.

“Yeah… He was so flustered,” Natasha reminisced, unable to help a laugh as she thought of how he had reacted on that escalator when she had pulled that move.

“Was it his first kiss?” Kate questioned curiously, raising an eyebrow as she leaned forward a little. Natasha huffed.

“I think it was pretty close to his first,” Natasha grinned widely, and Kate shook her head, still completely surprised.

“Wow… Did you have feelings for him?” Kate asked curiously, and Natasha shook her head instantly, her smile softening just a little as she answered Kate.

“Not at all. He’s like a brother to me,” Natasha confessed, and Kate nodded slowly, taking it all in.

“Oh… Did he have feelings for you?” Kate asked, her eyes on Natasha as she waited with bated breath for her next answer.

“Not as far as I know,” Natasha stated.

“But you don’t know,” Kate clarified, finding herself far too invested in this story considering the fact that she had never really considered Steve and Natasha in this sort of light before. While they definitely had no romantic feelings for one another at this point in their lives with Steve happily in a relationship with Carol, Kate still could not help but wonder about the past now.

“Well, I can’t know for sure because I still haven’t quite developed the ability to read minds,” Natasha joked, her voice warm as her eyes practically glowed with a soft mirth and affection from where she was sitting in the driver’s seat.

“But we were never together if that’s what you were wondering. I love him, but I’ve never felt that way about him,” Natasha explained, her head leaning back against the seat where she had reclined it. Her feet were resting up on the dash around the steering wheel whereas Kate kept her feet in the floorboard.

While Natasha was not overly fond of her car Phil and did not really care too much about what happened to him, Kate did not want to get dirt anywhere except for the floorboard. She respected Natasha too much for that.

“You got any other stories about kisses gone wrong?”

“That one didn’t go wrong because we technically got away, but yeah. I do have some other ones,” Natasha told her, a fond smirk on her face as she glanced over at Kate. Kate watched her, waiting patiently for the next tale that the redhead would offer her.

“Well... One time on one of the few SHIELD missions that I was not with Clint, I had to pretend this guy I was assigned to was my grandpa. But it quickly turned into another one of those moments where we had to make people uncomfortable to keep them from realizing who I was, so—”

“Tasha, no!” Kate cried.

“I had to kiss him,” Natasha finished her sentence, and Kate let out a deep, horrified groan. Natasha chuckled.

“Thankfully, we weren’t in the company of the people that we already told the grandpa-granddaughter story to, so it was mostly weird because it was a really old guy and someone a lot younger than him,” Natasha told it as if it were no big deal at all.

Granted, Kate had daddy issues and liked guys that were a lot older than her a lot of times, but she did not have grandaddy issues.

“My gosh, Tasha,” Kate groaned, covering her face as she was somewhere between being horrified and laughing at how that must have looked.

“If it makes you feel any better, it was actually an agent about my age. He was just wearing one of the masks that we sometimes use to hide identities undercover,” Natasha informed her.

“Why weren’t you wearing one? You said you were worried about being recognized,” Kate questioned, feeling a little better after hearing Natasha’s explanation.

Natasha laughed softly, and Kate looked at her with growing curiosity. Natasha grinned at her mischievously, such fondness and warm teasing in her gaze that it took Kate aback a little. Kate had seen Natasha gentle and open like this, but it nevertheless was always a little surprising to see. However, it always made her feel like she was among Natasha’s very few most special people.

“Because sometimes I like to live life on the wild side,” she admitted, and Kate huffed as she shook her head.

Natasha reached out, squeezing the back of Kate’s neck lovingly with a laugh before running her hand down to rest on Kate’s shoulder.

“And people always scold me for impulsiveness.”

“You’re just a baby, Kate,” Natasha told her, no hint of any unkindness in her words. “You’re not quite ready to play Russian roulette.”

Kate turned her head to rest her chin on Natasha’s hand where she had it on her shoulder, and she smiled at her in spite of the fact that Natasha had basically told her that she was not ready.

It was such a rare and special thing for her and Natasha to have time together to themselves, and she always treasured it so deeply. Just judging by Natasha’s eyes, she could tell she enjoyed it a great deal as well.

“I’m an official Avenger now,” Kate argued, and she knew that her argument was not a strong one simply based on her tone alone. Natasha shook her head.

“Yeah, but I love you, angel. I’m not risking you, because I don’t know what I’d do with myself if anything happened to you,” Natasha expressed gently. Kate reached her hand up, shifting her chin so that it was out of the way in order to allow her own hand to touch Natasha’s.

“I’d be fine.”

“I know. You’re my brave girl. But I just can’t risk you,” Natasha informed her, and Kate just huffed a little.

However, before Kate could say anything else, Kate’s door suddenly opened.

“Get out of my seat, Little Bishop,” Yelena grumbled, and Kate could hear Carol laughing as she started to get into the back.

“Okay, okay,” Kate got out as she let Yelena get into the front seat. When Kate slid into the back, she looked over at Carol who currently had her head thrown back as she laughed heartily.

“What happened?” Natasha asked finally, a certain fond exasperation in her voice as she addressed Yelena.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Yelena grunted, and Carol sobered just enough to try to tell Natasha in-between laughs.

“She took her shoes off and there was this guy in there, and—”

“Don’t you dare!!!”

“He asked her how much for foot pics,” Carol finished, starting to cackle anew.

“I TOLD YOU NOT TO SAY IT!!!” Yelena practically screeched, and Kate winced a little as she looked at Yelena’s face where she had turned around in her seat to glare at Carol.

Natasha groaned deeply, and Kate shook her head, trying to stay out of it as Yelena started smacking Carol’s knee. She then looked up at the rearview mirror, seeing Natasha looking at her fondly. Kate offered her a huff and a shrug as she smiled.

At least they had a moment of peace to talk.

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carmenized-onions · 7 months ago

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I’m speechless (I have so much to say)

Your mind?! Your skills?!

I totally forgot that the fucking iconic freezer fight never happened in the first chapter because Tony/Inky/Chip/Best Repairwoman To Ever Live/ Baddest Bitch To Ever Exist/ etc got there just in time, so to see it HERE??? So fucking satisfying. It’s like a train wreck you can’t look away from and you managed to completely recreate that scene, only now it’s Tony’s heart breaking instead of Claire’s 😔

I also love the fact that it was the “You’re fucking nothing!” line that prompted Tony to intervene. The same thing Lee said to Michael 💔 (Fuck that guy)

And your characterization of Tony is honesty my favorite because it’s like Carmen says, she defends herself without being mean (even though he deserves to be locked in the freezer again AND the office just for good measure) and THAT makes Carmen’s words all the more vicious because she knows he’s spiraling about something, she’s trying to be compassionate, she’s trying her damn hardest to believe that he doesn’t mean it, but then he delivers the final blow to an open wound and yeah…he must mean it

Also, Richie ready to throw down with Carmen after he made Tony cry??? Sydney immediately comforting her??? Both them AND the staff ready to WALK??? Sweeps not knowing what the fuck is going on during his smoke break??? I love them all 💕

“No. Richie’s got it. You’ve gotta keep your kitchen in order.” The way I would say the same shit just to be petty 😊

Also, the Exec asking for her number??? ew

Jump scare fr, didn’t see that coming at all 😂

Carmen’s gonna have an aneurysm when he reads that

The parking lot scene between Tony and Richie was so cathartic. They grieved Michael’s death separately for so long, blaming themselves, and now they can grieve together 🥺

I once again fully support Tony’s decision to let the stray fur ball eat Carmen’s flowers AND to leave the black plate out to fend for itself 😊

And FINALLY, “I know you said I’d be a perfect match for your little brother…” I’m SOBBING. Carmen was out here thinking that Michael and Tony were a thing when all along his older brother was trying to play matchmaker 💔

I’m gonna need about 5 business days to recover

I’m also gonna be very disappointed when season 3 drops next week and I don’t see Chip pop up within the first couple of seconds. Like THIS is season 3. It’s canon. 💜💜💜

I feel bad not responding in order but I have to start with the end. Can I be so fr. Me too. LMAO. I HAVE R O T T E D MY BRAIN. I HAVE RUINED THE BEAR FOR MYSELF LMAOOOO. I'm gonna be watching in 6 fucking days going,,,, but,,, but toneee???? but chipp??? where chip!!?!?!?!!

So I'm glad other people also think this. Delights me. I am hoping that a bunch of plot points I did still happen in season 3, because some of writing this has genuinely been either me guessing or just wanting a fun thing to happen in S3 (I.e I think wedding catering ep would genuinely be so fucking fun. like terrible. but so fun)

ANYWAYYYSSSS Back to this chapter's thoughts.

Thank you sm for having sm to say because I love to hear it-- An analysis??? ooohhfhsdfhksdjfh i could. i could maybe die. Fuckin love when people DIG IN!!!

I don't remember if I always planned for this fight to lead with the freezer fight, but I do remember seeing like a gifset of the freezer fight, and going oh I can't just let this all go unsaid. It would be AN INJUSTICE to Carm/Rich to not let that air out. You gotta level a building to rebuild. And there's just something I think on like, a reader level/ me writing it of like-- Knowing when this was supposed to happen and where that really adds so much to reading it this time, because instead of a door between them it's fucking YOU!!! FUCK !!!!!!

YEEAAGGHHH!!!! (You will see why I cannot comment more on this point of Uncle Lee later. But Just know. YEEAHFKJDFHGKJDFHGFKJDFG!!!!!!!!!)

Every time people say they love Tony as a character, an angel gets it's wings. That's how it feels for me. But 100% it made that whole scene so much more brutal because she's trying to explain and trying to understand but that's simply not how any dynamic Carmen's ever been in has worked and so it's just making him wig out more. RAH!

The other thing, that I think is like, a golden rule in writing fights-- Or at least it's always been one for me-- The hardest hitting line will always be the one that the person hearing it thinks is true about themselves. Peoples princess? Sure. Don't work here? Ouch but okay. The one thing that haunts you every day that you blame yourself for and were just waiting for one person to affirm it for you? OH!!!! OH!!!! BABYYYYYYYYY!!!!

The aftermath with the kitchen was so tough for me to think out, because I was like-- I cannot have them fucking punch Carmen. Like we can't do that. But also like. Richie would do that. WOP WOP! But I eventually agreed with myself that he'd go with chewing him out BEFORE the punch, and thankfully Chip stopped him in time.

Syd was me, when my friends cry. The yoyoyoyoyoyoyoyoyo-- came from an extremely real place. and that place is my mouth. I love The Bear and Tony's relationship, which is also what makes the I don't think anyone's my friend all the more heartbreaking, because everyone was on her side there. And she just cannot see that. SON OF A BITCH BROOOOO BROOOOO STOPPPPPP I'm the one writing it who am I telling to stop?

I-- With the petty line, bro,,,, I wanted to dig into hell so bad. I wanted to snatch that motherfucker's soul-- But I left it at your kitchen because it just wouldn't be in Tony's like,,,, energy? to do so?? Like she'd already been murdered at that point, so she couldn't turn on roast mode. my poor bird.

JUMP SCARE EXEC!!! There were actually surprise surprise whether you believe me or not, a lot of different ways his dinner could've went, and I'll probably share them in another ask down the line, but the one thing I felt pretty solid about is he would be into Tony. ew.

The parking lot scene really was everything for me tbh, I'd been waiting to write this chapter overall for some time, but that one like,,,, fuck i really adore these two and it's exactly like ya said, so very cathartic for them to finally get to be absolutely not over anything togetherrrr yknow?

And that's another vote for---Fuck it, poll,

As for Mikey Matchmaker,,,,, -- You know what, i'm gonna save this for after either the series is done or after chapter 13, pending. But remind me later that i need to tell you something about Mikey and ,,,,, fire???? Yeah. Tell me I need to tell you about that, after chapter 13 or so.

#yapping #ask #extensive yapping #serendipity 29

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uncleasad · 1 month ago

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how do you deal with writers block?

Hello, Anonymous friend, and thanks for this fun (and timely!) Ask.

The first thing I want to mention is there’s a difference between “normal” writer’s block and a persistent and wide-ranging writer’s block, which might be burnout instead. For burnout masquerading as writer’s block, I don’t have any good answers, but the recovery takes time.

For regular cases of writer’s block, can’t finish this scene, can’t figure out where to go next, and things like that, there are a wide range of strategies that I employ or have employed in the past.

When I got stuck on my very first fanfic, I started writing other ideas that came to my head. The 9 months between chapters on that fic spawned both the initial one-shots of the Tales from the Salvatore Kitchen series and the first three of my WIPs as I got stuck on each one, in turn, and started another 😂

I was always successful in getting writing again…just not in finishing the work I was stuck on in the first place 😳

On the first of those WIPs I mentioned before, when I got stuck at a certain point, I jumped ahead to the next scene I knew I could write, and I used that tactic fairly effectively; that fic is both one of my most-complete WIPs and also roughly 5 disconnected sections 😂

Another both effective and productive thing I do often is to go back and reread prior sections—paragraphs, scenes, chapters, sometimes even the entire fic—and/or edit. It refreshes my memory of what I’ve written and in a strange way rebuilds momentum, so that when I get to where I was stuck, I have everything in mind again and can plow through the wall.

Something I’ve used quite effectively recently is to take a prompt and write a very short fic from it, which has the benefit of switching my mind to a new context without getting me caught up in a whole new, full-fledged work. I think this has worked best when I know generally what I want to write but have gotten stuck on the specifics (actions or dialogue to fill out a scene); this seems to kick-start the creative juices, plus leave me feeling good (endorphins) from “finishing” something.

Those are the tools for breaking writer’s block that still involve writing and you the writer taking action on your own. The next set of tools are more passive and involve taking a break of some kind.

If you’ve poked around my blog much (and it’s perfectly fine if you haven’t!), you might notice I often post about getting ideas—both for new fics and for things I’m working on right now—as a result of doing mundane things.

So many ideas (often the craziest!) come to me in dreams! (Be sure to write them down/take a voice memo/whatever as soon as you wake up!)

Then there’s brushing my teeth…

And showering…

Working in the garden…

Or mowing the lawn…

Even taking a walk…

(Once again, try to keep something with you so that you can record these ideas in case you can’t immediately go back to work on your writing!)

The commonality between these is both that you’re taking a break from thinking about your project and also allowing your mind to wander while doing something mundane (though perhaps stimulating in a different way…light, smell, temperature, visually). It’s paradoxical how not thinking about your writing leads you to have breakthroughs about your writing, but there’s some actual science behind it.

The final thing that I’ve found useful is to talk to someone else about where or why you’re stuck. One of the great things about being here on tumblr this year is that our little community of active Hosie authors has reached critical mass, so there’s always someone around to talk to if we’re stuck on something. Sometimes that takes the form of a post and I get comments from others; other times it’s a chat in tumblr Messages. You can also engage a beta reader or IRL friends, or the like, too. (And sometimes just figuring out how to explain to someone else how or where you’re blocked on a work is enough to get you unstuck.)

There’s another article I’ve posted about which is a summary from an academic paper on writer’s block with a list of strategies employed by writers surveyed for the paper. I’ve broadly covered most of them here, but it’s worth glancing at the list I quoted in my post for a few other specific variations.

I hope some of this is helpful. We’re all different as writers, and how and why we get blocked on various things we’re writing are also different, so don’t worry if what works for me doesn’t work for you…keep trying things.

Thanks again for the Ask, and happy writing! (And feel free to follow-up if you have more specific questions about anything I’ve mentioned.)

#ask #writers block #writing struggles #writing advice #writing process #writing resources

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whatisthismandoinghere · 2 years ago

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Finally got around to making a list for that Hogan’s Heroes/Taylor Swift prompt list I mentioned a while back, so welcome to Cruel Summer at Stalag 13!! (cannot for the life of me decide if I love or hate the event name, it’s real hard to make a combo of Hogan’s Heroes and Taylor Swift 😂) Lemme know what you think, I was considering coming up with some alternate prompts in case there were some that weren’t catching your eye, but it was hard enough to come up with the 31, so if there is a Taylor Swift song or some Taylor Swift lyrics that you would have liked to see, drop me a line and I’ll add them on! I’m gonna go ahead and set it up for the month of July so everyone can have plenty of time to get a start on their creations (or if you’re like me you can just wait till the last second 😂) I may or may not make a collection on ao3 but I'll keep yall posted on that

For starters I’m gonna go over some rules (though I don’t really like to call them that cuz there aren’t really any rules) but anywho

If you’re writing, these do not have to be song fics, these are just meant to be prompts to inspire whatever story, art, etc. you may have inside of you, no use of lyrics or any mention of music required, it doesn’t even really need to be related to the song as a whole in anyway, so no knowledge of Taylor Swift is required

All types of media are welcome!! This includes, but is not limited to, writing, artwork, gifsets, video edits. Whatever you can come up with, you are more than welcome to share!

Interpretation is completely up to you!! Whatever idea comes to your mind, just roll with it, there is no wrong way to do it

You can complete as many or as few prompts as you wish

If you choose to post your work, please tag it with #cruel summer at stalag 13

Please wait until the day of the prompt to post, and late submissions are always welcome!

And most importantly, have fun :D

If you have any questions at all, please do not hesitate to reach out to me, I promise I don’t bite lol

Without further ado, prompts are below the cut! If the prompt is a lyric, I put the title of the song they’re from after it in parentheses. There’s also a picture after the text (and quick shout out to @annieslytherpuff21 for some of these suggestions!)

A Place in This World

It’s a typical Tuesday night (You Belong With Me)

Dear John

I remember it all too well (All Too Well)

Hung my head as I lost the war / And the sky turned black like a perfect storm (Clean)

This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things

Death by a Thousand Cuts

Back when I was livin’ for the hope of it all (August)

Crescent moon, coast is clear (Ivy)

Sometimes I wonder which one’ll be your last lie (Vigilante Shit)

You put up walls and paint them all a shade of gray (Cold as You)

I close my eyes and the flashback starts (Love Story)

Innocent

Now I’m lying on the cold hard ground (I Knew You Were Trouble)

Out of the Woods

New Year’s Day

It’s Nice to Have a Friend

Peace

Past the blood and bruise / Past the curses and cries (Happiness)

I should not be left to my own devices (Anti-Hero)

I’ve been a lot of lonely places / I’ve never been on the outside (The Outside)

It’s hard to fight when the fight ain’t fair (Change)

Do you still feel like you know what you’re doing / Cause I don’t think you do (Better Than Revenge)

Starlight

It’s poker, he can’t see it in my face / But I’m about to play my ace (New Romantics)

Don’t Blame Me

Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes (Cruel Summer)

Epiphany

Tolerate It

Mastermind

All that bloodshed, crimson clover (The Great War)

#hogan's heroes #prompt list #cruel summer at stalag 13

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deepperplexity · 2 years ago

Text

Prompt: 24. Christmas Party

Pairing: Is there even one? It’s a secret… Read and find out, much like unwrapping a Christmas gift, no?

POV: Second, Reader [+First, Narrator]

Setting: Your home, kinda? More secrets I guess…

Continuation of: 23. Cherishing Joy (and 23 + 24 of RICKMAS 2021)

A/N: This fic, well, my late-night brain surprised me… Remember how I said I couldn’t possibly top the final fic of 2021? Well I think that may still hold true (it was so good last RICKMAS, wasn’t it?) HOWEVER(!) I still managed to come up with something COMPLETELY NEW for the final fic of this year and I seriously hope you will like it, gosh, I don’t know what to do if I disappoint you with this one… If that’s the case, I’m sorry RICKMAS 2022 didn’t end how you thought but for me, with all the new beginnings 2022 offered I find it rather perfect with something old turned into something new. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like this during the decade I’ve been writing and reading fanfiction. Tell me if this has already been done and where I can find something similar if that’s the case please 😂

I’m very sorry I’m five months late… I promised I’d finish this, so here it is. Something different, something new yet old, something I hope will make you ugly-cry but in the end make you feel warmth and joy 💚

As always I have to take certain liberties with the Reader Character, or I can’t write a functional story, but I hope I’ve managed to make the right choices for the majority of you — like having an undying love of Snape for example 👀 And I usually avoid involving other forms of media directly but part of this fics creation is a fanedit I saw a long time ago that I to this day find to be absolute perfection, and it also happens that it’s something that not only brings me immense joy but fucking terrible pain as well since it’s an impossibility. And this fic, this story, is about just that. Accepting you cannot do anything about the impossible but you can find joy in this life and the possibilities within it — even if there will always be things we wish to change and things we cannot see ourselves.

I’ll let you get on with the fic, after all, you’ve waited for months 🙈😅💚

Tags/TW’s: Honestly, there’s no real warnings beyond this fic being emotional af and based on the real you…

Abbr.: Y/N - Your Name

Word Count: 6.5k+

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // AO3 // LINK TREE

You bolted upright. The little blue star glowing atop your table had come from nowhere. It just appeared, out of thin air. You clutched your wrist, feeling the strings from last year beneath your palm. Again? You thought and the joy which shot through you mixed with terrible dread. You remembered the pain from last year, the tears and the goodbyes. The horror of having to leave them all behind, knowing they had all been waiting for you to arrive.

But then there was the purest of joy, getting to hug them, see them, talk with them. It had been more than you could ever have dreamt of. So, it wasn’t really strange that you reached for the star with trembling but quick fingers, was it?

It unravelled, unfolding itself in your hand as if it were made by paper. The faint blue glow turned brighter as the star disintegrated into glittery dust floating into the air. You watched with wonder while I felt my entire body morphing, this is not gonna be pleasant, but what wouldn’t I do for you, darling.

Your eyes widened before a scream left your mouth as I appeared. “You’re-, what-, who-, you’re Helena Bonham Carter!” you shrieked while I coughed out some universe dust. “You know, travelling between dimensions is not comfortable, do you remember that awful feeling of falling upwards?” I asked, tugging on the puffy sleeves of my sparkling white dress with tiny hands before flying over to the window. The darkness outside offered me a hazy reflection.

“Oh, well, this is a rather pleasant form,” I said with a voice not my own. “You’re-, you’re a fairy?” you asked and I turned mid-air, my little wings flapping behind me while the huge dress swished about, all sparkles and shine. “I think, you may have conjured me as a fairy godmother, doesn’t Miss Helena play that role in Cinderella?” I asked while floating forward, being a miniature version of a human. “I conjured you?” you asked and I nodded, a glittery wand appearing in my hand while my dress turned even shinier. Now, I couldn’t very well begin explaining the ins and outs of magical creativity or the flow of magic, nor the many layers of the universe or the way a wish in one world may be granted in another. That was too frikkin much to get into - and you looked kinda shocked, still.

“Next time, try thinking of someone less, umh, puffy, if you don’t mind, darling,” I said with a smile and I couldn’t help but adore the confused blush creeping across your cheeks. At least you seemed to relax a tad more. “Did I fall asleep?” you asked. “Nope, not at all, I can slap you if you want to make sure?” Your hands shot out into the air. “No, no, I’m good, I’m all good,” you protested while I fluttered down to stand on your table, pushing at the leftover glitter with my shoes.

My mannerisms seemed to take after those of the person whose form I was in and I quite liked Helena’s ways of moving around a lot and always doing very loud expressions with her face, very much like myself in my own world. I shook my wand, sparkles coming out of it after a few waves. “There we go,” I said and plopped myself down on the edge of the table, dangling my feet. “Well, sit, I’m gonna strain my neck if you stand like that.” You flopped down on the couch faster than I had expected.

“Thanks, now—” “I’m sorry, but who are you if you’re not her, or a fairy godmother?” you asked and I tilted my head, a tad offended truth be told but I guess the question was valid. “Plex, obviously, who else would I be?” “You’re Plex?” “Well yeah, I don’t look like this usually, but magic is strange and I think since you conjured me into this world I had to take on a form you would find comfort and safety with, one of the rules of magic that’s summoned. The summoned can’t really choose their form, it’s complicated, shall we get on with it?” “With what?” you asked, looking confused yet again. “You’re heart’s wish of course.” “My-, what?”

I sighed and got myself up (not bloody easy when wearing an enormous dress you know). “So, every heart has several wishes, one of those wishes got me here,” I began while pacing over the table, “and given I’m here it has to be a creative wish about Alan Rickman, that’s the wishes I grant, so what’s your wish about him? And no, I can’t get him back or allow you to see him - he’s quite the angel though, I must say, and he’s fantastic at dinner parties, always entertaining.” “You know him?!” you shrieked and I stopped, looking at you in that bored way of Helena’s. “Well, obviously, how do you think I manage to get all his characters so on the nose? Pun very much intended, mind you,” I said with a smirk. “He’s a terrible co-writer, by the way, being a director and all that, so I only allow him to give me five comments per work and that’s it. He’s still rather pissy about me killing you off at the end of Death’s Judge you know,” I continued with a pointed look toward you, “but he’d already used his five comments for the last book, so, whoopsie-daisy, what can you do?” I half giggled and half sighed while shrugging my shoulders in that distinct way of Helena’s.

I looked around, allowing you a moment to stop gaping at me. “This isn’t really festive, is it?” I flicked my wand, getting the sparkles to work again and drew it all around the room, making Christmas lights, candles, little figurines and even a gingerbread house appear with a skating little elf on a mirror made to look like ice. “Much better.”

You were still gaping at me when I turned back; I sighed. “You know, we don’t have all night so what’s your wish darling?” I didn’t mean to be rude but the magic would only last for an hour, and the sooner that hour could start the better I could make that hour for you. “I-, I don’t know,” you said. “Sure you do, otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”

You opened and closed your mouth a few times before you shook your head. You seemed all out of sorts and even if I could feel your wish I couldn’t grant it if you didn’t tell me something about it. So, I floated about the room for a moment longer while your eyes followed me. It was strange being seen by you. Usually, I was the one watching and none would be the wiser about it — ever.

“Tell you what,” I said and flew up to your face, “what do you wish for most regarding Alan? That he’d said something specific? That he had worn some specific clothes?” I asked. “Well, no, not really. I just…” “Yes..? You what?” “Oh, I just wish there was more of him, you know… Like, just, more. He left us too soon and now there’s nothing left I haven’t seen of him. And, he should have played more parts like Turpin and Snape, you know, the dark and truly brooding type with a streak of callousness almost. He does-, did those so well and I wish there had been more.” “Well, there you go then,” I said with a smile while twirling away from you, feeling my magic pulse and sizzle within my veins — my creativity already running away with me when my eyes snagged on your bookshelf filled with knick-knacks, figurines, books and movie-related items. There was the standard Harry Potter merch too of course, but that was not what my eyes got stuck on.

“A Disney fan, are we?” I asked with a smirk, feeling things fall into place. “Well, yes, who’s not in love with Disney?” “True, true, very true,” I admitted while nodding and thinking, the tip of my wand tapping against my bottom lip.

THAT’S IT! “This whole time-, but of course! How silly of me,” I chided myself with and turned back toward you with quite the mischievous smile — Helena truly has the most marvellous expressions, perhaps I should take on her form more often? “Umh, what? What’s silly?” “Oh, don’t you worry, darling. Plex has this in the bag! Now, let’s see, we’ll need, some sparkle, some… twirling, annnnd-, there!” My wand turned into my magical pen while the inkhorn, glowing a marvellous shade of purple with red mist coming from it, plopped into existence right at that moment.

My hand instantly began filling the air in front of me with sparkling words. I couldn’t believe the luck of having to grant your wish, the magical force of creativity always the most strong and powerful when shared and wished for by others.

“You still have the strings around your wrist, good, good, good,” I muttered to myself while glancing toward you, your wide eyes seemingly enchanted by the glowing letters quickly turning into sentences and paragraphs mid-air.

“Remember last time you had to hold your breath?” You nodded eagerly. “Well, you might wanna close your eyes and do just that in three, two, one!” I flicked my pen, slashing the air at the end of a sentence and was pulled out of your universe when my creativity alone took over, catapulting you through time and space, sending you to another world nearly identical to your own…

≪⁕≫

Not again! You thought and cinched your eyes while barely having enough time to inhale a deep breath. The pulling around your stomach, the feeling of falling upwards just as horrendous as last year.

You gasped for air as your feet hit the ground. The world spun for a second longer before you managed to open your eyes only to scrunch your eyebrows. “What in the world?” you asked out loud while looking around your own home, your own living room. Yet, it wasn’t. There were little things out of place, small objects you didn’t recognise on your shelves, the windows a different shape and the curtains a different shade than your own. Same colour though.

The TV was on, some strange talk show with a Christmas theme to it. You didn’t recognise the woman who seemed to be the host. Not that it mattered, you were too busy wondering why you felt at home yet also didn’t. Why there were no posters of Snape on the walls or why the room lacked all the details, merch and fandom creations you’d had of him in your true home. Where is-, is this another-, why wouldn’t I have Snape everywhere? Oh god, no, don’t tell me there’s a universe where Alan didn’t play Snape?!

Your reactions made me smirk as I hovered next to you, unseen once more. I was there, but you would never know it. I was waiting, with my heart fluttering as I listened in on your nearly panicked thoughts.

Applauding erupted and your eyes got snagged by the TV. There he was. In the flesh, with his distinct smile and that gentle waving he always did when walking up on a stage or passing fans. Alan Rickman. Alive and well. You gasped as you sank down on the couch, your body instinctively knew where it was while your eyes were glued to the TV.

Your hands went to your mouth, staving off another harsh exhale. He looks… older. Oh my god, he looks older! Tears formed in your eyes while you watched Alan take a seat opposite the host, still smiling widely with more wrinkles around his mouth and eyes, slightly longer and more white hair than before and his belly was there. He was rounded and healthy looking, no sign of the cancer that stole him from your world.

“What a greeting,” the host said. Alan chuckled and your heart stuttered. “Quite the welcome, indeed,” he said and your brain seemed to falter at hearing him speak, new words in a new manner in a new environment. “But we’re not here to discuss greetings and the amount of love the world has for you and your phenomenal character portrayal, are we?” the host continued, her dark eyes alight with appreciation and a hint of wonder while she viewed the man you loved above all else.

Alan chuckled on screen, leaning back and then laughing a bit louder while he gave the audience and camera a direct look. Oh god, he’s alive… He’s alive and well and… happy. “So, now, to the question we’re all wanting to hear your answer to,” the host said while she leaned forward and Alan gave her his attention while you leaned forward as well, entranced by the screen and in utter havoc at seeing him once more.

“Is it a Christmas movie, or isn’t it?” the host asked and your mind got flung to Die Hard, the scene where Alan entered the building with his goons and you giggled at the fact that even in other universes this appeared a question that was repeated time and time again, every December. You knew he’d say no but you couldn’t wait to hear it, hear his voice in this new manner, even darker and slightly raspier than in your world as he was now seventy-nine — six years older than he’d ever be in your world.

Alan’s laugh pulled you out of your remembrance. “Angelika, must we do this every year? My answer remains the same, darling,” he said with a smile and your mind screamed like a school girl at hearing him use the term ‘darling’. The host, Angelika, smiled and asked him to indulge her. “It’s not a Christmas movie,” he said, “it will never be a Christmas movie.” “Yet every year, on the twenty-first of December it plays on television,” Angelika said with warmth in her voice while Alan shrugged and did that specific little lifting of his brows.

“I mean, what sort of Christmas movie has nothing to do with Christmas?” Alan continued while the audience laughed. “There’s fire, death, a manhunt and all sorts of un-Christmas-like things, not to mention the backlash about the romantic interest he took in her, and in this adaptation her of him.” “What?” you asked out loud, sitting up straighter while Angelika nodded and agreed with him. “What romance? What woman?” you asked the TV as Alan leaned back in his seat.

The host turned toward the camera. “Text us a yes or a no, tell us what you think, is Paris In Flames and Lust a Christmas movie? Is this upturned, distorted live adaptation of the classical story a must for Christmas to be complete for you?” she asked the audience and camera and you had no idea what movie she talked of. There was no movie like that in your universe.

“Angelika, honestly, how could a movie about a judge falling in love with the thing he hates the most be a Christmas movie? He kills her and himself in the end, it’s more the retelling of Romeo and Juliette, a tragedy, than that of the Hunchback Of Notre Dame that’s about freedom,” he said and your entire body stiffened. Your heart hammered, your mind turned utterly quiet and the world seemed to hold its breath along with you. As if time slowed down as realisation dawned on you.

“I’m sorry, Alan, but I think you’ll be outvoted on this one,” Angelika laughed along with the audience’s clapping in agreement. Alan simply laughed and shook his head. “I’m grateful for the love this story has received though, with its darker theme and twisting of the original story it nearly feels like the untold story behind it all,” he said and the audience cheered anew, chanting Alan’s name with love.

“Well, we’ll see what the voters say in a few minutes. First, we’ll watch one of the numerous fan edits sent in for this celebration of Paris In Flames and Lust’s twentieth anniversary!” The crowd erupted in cheers while the camera zoomed in on Alan, his warm smile unmistakable. He was flustered and honoured, you knew all his expressions and the way his eyes darted between the crowd and the host had your heart in upheaval.

And then the sound slowly died out, the sound of a song you’d never heard before began to play, the male singer singing in French as the screen went from black to an array of colours, a woman dressed in the most beautiful saree, laughing and moving in slowmotion across the screen while colours were thrown and her face was split in absolute joy as the music turned louder. That’s-, no way! Deepika?! Oh my god, she’s-, is she Esmeralda?!

There was dancing and scenes of people, Notre Dame, a pope and finally, Alan Rickman… you were glued to the TV with tears streaming down your face as you watched the most beautiful fan edit you’d ever come across. The fact it played on what appeared to be national television fried your brain. This was not your world, this world was… better.

The music turned intense and you were lost to the story unfolding before you like a summary of the movie you would never be able to see in its entirety. But the edit had you in its grip as it tore at your heart with it’s beauty, the thought of having something new of Alan, of him playing the brooding, calloused and broken character you so loved him as. The screen lit up with colours and you sobbed as you watched…

[Watch THIS edit by Mina Le Fay before continuing]

Your eyes were brimming with tears, my own heart ached at seeing the pain-mixed joy you were drowning within. But you kept watching the TV as the talk show returned with a roar of applause from the audience as the camera swiped over them before landing back on Alan. I’ll never see it… You thought as he stood and bowed on the stage right before the crowd roared as the camera zoomed over to Deepika Padukone. Alan stepped toward her and they met with a deep embrace while the crowd went wild.

They spoke but the microphones didn’t catch the words and then Alan led her by her hand to the seat next to his. Your heart twisted, her beauty was striking even without the costumes and adornments she’d worn in the movie — which you’d only ever see that perfect adaptation of.

Angelika began speaking with the both of them but you cried and looked through the watery haze as Alan smiled and laughed with Deepika who seemed more than happy to see him again. Professional care and perhaps a friendship between them. He looked so utterly happy and well, so perfectly healthy and joyous. Just how you always pictured him. He was perfection and he was alive.

“So, Alan and Deepika,” Angelika said while you snivelled and swiped at your cheeks to rid you of the overflowing tears. “I’ve heard a rumour,” she continued and smirked at the two who both shared a look — as if they knew where the conversation was headed. “Go on, ask,” Alan said as you drew a shuddering breath. “Is it true you two are currently in the middle of producing the origin story of Judge Turpin where you, Deepika, will play the woman who got away in his youth?”

Your eyes widened, the TV was utterly silent as Alan and Deepika shared another knowing look. “Indeed,” Alan said, “but you have been slightly misinformed. As this tragedy did so well, we decided to do another. So, as you can guess, Deepika will play the woman Judge Turpin loved wholeheartedly and—” “Alan, you’ll spoil the ending!” Deepika said with a laugh while she grabbed his hand. “Oh, the ending is already out there, even if few have read that intricate story. I’m still rather surprised by it, and it being out there in such a way. Freely available… Nothing but passion for the art, just the type of writer I find most enjoyable to work with,” Alan said while the camera zoomed over to Angelika’s shocked face, her mouth agape while staring into the camera. “Not another word, Alan,” Deepika said with a smile and shake of her head and Alan chuckled. “Very well.” “What? NO! Tell me!” you shouted at the TV, desperate to figure out what he was talking about, but the first string around your wrist glowed. No, no, I need forever in this universe!

“Well, we shall all wait eagerly for that story to come to the screen, but do tell, who will be playing the young Judge Turpin?” Angelika said with a gleam in her eyes, hungry for information just like you. “We’re not allowed to disclose that yet, you must wait and see,” Deepika said and you wanted to scream. You needed to know.

A loud knocking came from the door and you jolted. What the— Another round of knocking. “Come on! Open up!” a female voice called, the sound muffled by the closed door. You didn’t recognise the voice though. “(Y/N),” she called out and knocked again, harder. “You’re so slow! I KNOW YOUR GONNA WATCH IT!” Whatch what? You wondered as you snivelled and wiped at your tears as the talk show was cut for commercials.

You walked over to the door, trying to calm your breaths and raging heart. Should I pretend I’m not here? You wondered but there was a pull within you, a sensation that told you whoever was on the other side loved you and was important to the you of this universe. “I swear to god—” another round of banging “—open this door right now! You’re not watching it without me!” the voice shouted and you reached for the handle while I watched with bated breath to see your reaction.

You pulled the door open slowly, but it got pushed open as a woman you’d never seen before entered in a rush. Her hair swished about her face, and her clothes looked worn and perfectly comfy. Much like your own clothes. “What took you so long?” she asked as she dumped a whole bag of snacks and drinks on the floor.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, what do I do? What do I say? You wondered as panic crept along your veins. She just stared at you, her beauty absolutely striking and the gorgeousness of her body — despite it being hidden behind puffy clothes — made you wonder how someone so perfect was in your home. What kind of universe you’d landed in where someone like her obviously had a close relationship with you.

“You’re always so quiet, I swear to god you were broken as a child,” she said with a deep sigh but there was love in her sweet voice, and care. The genuine kind. And as you stared at her, not knowing what to do with yourself she sighed and grabbed the bag anew. “Come on, it’s starting in two minutes,” she said after having glanced at her wrist and you simply nodded, not understanding the emotions that were bubbling within you. They were so warm, so familiar, so unknown.

As you closed the door she made her way into the living room. When you arrived she’d already covered the table with all your favourite snacks, your favourite drinks and some strange candies you’d never seen before. Perhaps they don’t exist in my universe?

“(Y/n), I swear to god, if you’re gonna just stand there and look at me like that I’ll kiss you to snap you out of it. Why have you been crying anyway?” she asked and you blanched. Was this a partner in this universe? Was she someone super important? It felt like it, in your heart. It felt like the woman looking at you was beyond important, but there was a barrier there too. As if the you in this world loved her and it transferred into you but you were from another universe so perhaps the sensation was yours but not yours fully?

“Don’t tell me, you watched the Angelika Realm show?” Your eyes widened. “Ha! I knew it, you’re such a sob, love.” The woman shook her head and laughed, but it was again in that warm and caring manner. As if she loved that about you. But you hadn’t cried for the reason she thought, no matter what reason that was. “Sit your ass down, it’s starting,” she said and you obeyed, sitting down on the other end of the couch as she switched the channel on the TV.

The Fox Century intro filled the screen and your eyes flicked between it and the woman on the other end of the couch. She was just so beautiful and you felt a lump form in your gut, a knot of worry too familiar for you. The comparing started that very same second, the doubt of yourself consuming you while you tried to focus on the TV and not all the things perfect with her and wrong with you.

“God, I’m so excited, every year it’s the same but still, I can’t believe I get to do this every Christmas with you,” the woman said and you looked towards her, only to find her staring at you with a wide smile. “I know it’s selfish, given why you’re not with your family, but I’m so happy I met you… someone who understands the— THERE HE IS!” she shrieked as the both of you looked at the screen just as Alan appeared on screen dressed in a frock coat version of Disney’s Frollo. He was absolutely stunning and warmth churned within you while the hurt and pain stabbed at your heart.

“Fuck me, he’s perfection,” she said and sighed happily while positively ogling the screen. It made you giggle, that spreading warmth taking over more and more while your eyes watered at seeing Alan Rickman in something new, something perfect, something dark and perfectly suited for his portrayal. “What you giggling for? You’re a bigger simp than me,” she laughed and threw a pillow at you. You caught it just in time.

“You know, having you is like the best gift from the world, ever.” Her words were sincere but spoken in a passing manner as she reached for a snack from the table. As if it was something obvious, something she said often, something you were already supposed to know. I’m lucky in this universe, you thought as you hugged the pillow. “You okay?” she asked while your eyes got hooked by the TV, showing Alan walking through a giant church while choir music began to play softly. “I’m-, no sure,” you confessed. Not knowing what to say. You were all over the place and the feelings of real life mixed with those of the other you. “Are you already imagining the scene where he burns her? You’re like an hour ahead in the movie!” HE BURNS HER?!

Your head whipped around, the image of Deepika as Esmeralda burning on the stake filling your head. “Why are you looking at me like you didn’t know? We’ve watched this like twenty times, and for the past five years on Christmas. You’re so emotionally invested it’s almost scary,” she laughed. “God, I’m gonna have to hold you through your bawling this year too when he takes his own life, aren’t I?” she asked and your mouth plopped open in horror.

Alan’s death roared in your veins, the loss of him filling you to the brim as he began to sing on screen. You were instantly entranced as he sang about righteousness and civility, about being in God’s eye and under his command. His baritone voice was perfect, the music effortlessly consuming, and the look of severity he held his features to was absolute perfection. He was made to play Judge Frollo. And I won’t witness it all, I’ll never have that, never ever… The thought was stark and hurt something fiercely as you watched the movie unfold before you.

Tears wetted your cheeks, your teeth biting down on your lower lip. You wanted to bawl, wanted to scream and shout how unfair it was that you’d never have the life of the universe you were visiting. But I knew, deep down I knew you loved the glimpse of the world where he was alive and well. I knew it was painful, knew it would torture you, but also give you a small relief — seeing him again, fulfilling your wish even if it could never truly be granted fully. Death was permanent. No amount of magic could ever undo it.

“He’s so beautiful,” you whispered as the song came to its crescendo. “Perfection,” the woman next to you whispered as you were both enthralled. “I can’t wait to see him in Death’s Judge next year, gosh, he’s going to be perfect… Even if it won’t be many scenes. You know, given it’s the history of him. I bet they’ll only have a few scenes at the end tying it in with Sweeney Todd. But I’m glad it’s Tim Burton doing the movie, I just know he’ll make it perfect and we already have tickets for the première.” We do? I’ll— No, I won’t… Fuck, I hope you know how lucky you are in this universe, you thought as you clutched the pillow even harder.

You blinked, your eyes widening as the dancing Deepika entered the scene, her depiction of Esmeralda pure perfection. You gasped as the scene switched, showing Alan anew, showing Frollo gasping at the view of the dancing beauty — him falling in love at first sight. It was beautiful acting, perfection as always. The story was different from the original one, not a real retelling but an adaptation.

You snivelled and a warm hand grabbed your wrist, pulling you swiftly toward the woman whose name you didn’t know. But in her arms you felt comfort. “You’re such a baby, love,” she whispered and kissed the top of your head with the sound of a smile in her voice. Your whole heart fluttered and hammered but it wasn’t truly your emotions. It was false yet true, confusing yet so absolutely clear.

You sank deeper into her, relaxing in her embrace as you watched Paris In Flames and Lust unfold, nearly forgetting for a moment it would all be ripped away from you, not remembering that the words spoken through the speakers would never ever be hard again for you.

The second string around your wrist began to glow and you jolted, bolting upright as reality sank its shiny claws into you. No, no, no, not yet! “What’s the matter? You’ve never reacted to this scene before? Don’t tell me you’re getting hot for Phoebus too. Come on, we watched one fanedit of him and Frollo and you’re getting all jolted now?” “No, no I-, I have no time,” you exhaled as you wrapped your hand around your wrist, pressing the strings into your skin while you tried to burn the image of Alan as Frollo into the very fibres of your brain. “No time? We have all the time in the world, what are you on about?” “I—” Can’t tell you… Fuck, I don’t want to leave. This feels so right. “You’re acting weirder than usual, I love your weirdness but—”

The world began to spin around you. The TV blurred and the hands grabbing your shoulders were barely there. You couldn’t focus your eyes on her when the whole room looked as if it were breaking down, piece by piece. No, no, no, not yet! I need more time! This feels perfect, I-, I need more time! Plex! Give me more—

All air left your lungs as the hands holding your shoulders fully disappeared, you were falling upwards, your limbs being tugged in different directions while your lungs burned from the lack of oxygen. The sound of Alan singing about love killing him came and went in waves as darkness pushed and pulled at you. You couldn’t scream, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see but you felt it all.

I watched as all the souls of you in a multitude of universes passed through you. Every life of yours that wasn’t truly yours exploded in an array of sensations, burying you like a tidal wave. I used every ounce of magic I had left to protect you from the sensations — but it was a common occurrence. Travelling through universes meant passing others by and souls all across the multiverse in its endlessness were connected.

You left my sight as the darkness opened up and swallowed you whole. You were back where you belonged and my power depleted, my magic consumed. “Good luck, darling,” I whispered to the darkness as I was pulled downward uncomfortably and cast back into my own realm.

≪⁕≫

You gasped for breath, splayed out on the floor in your own home, while everything hurt like hell. Your entire body ached and for a moment it felt as if you were too full. Images flashed in your mind of things you knew you had never actually seen. What was that? You wondered as you sat yourself up.

Everything came rushing back in one swoop. The universe you had visited, the things you’d seen and felt, the love another human had for you, the life of Alan, the new views and sounds you’d been granted.

You cried. Cried and wailed as you shook on the floor, holding on to the memories. It felt like dancing over a minefield, as if any second it all could be ripped to shreds. Taken from you. But it had been real. The string around your wrist was more than enough proof as the third string, from the last star of last year, glowed in pulses. The wonder of that other world still lingered, the hurt and joy as palpable as the floor beneath you.

The realness of it, unlike last year’s adventure, made it hurt even more than the loss you’d felt back then. Last year it had all been surreal, fictional. This was real. There was a world out there where you were loved deeply, accepted fully by someone who understood and he was not only alive but healthy and happy. There were words he’d never spoken in your world, characters he’d portrayed that you’d never know about, movies he’d starred in that you’d never see.

Sitting there, among the remnants of memories, made you feel beyond hollow. Abandoned and alone. There was no more of him in your world. But I got this one hour… I-, I got these memories that aren’t ever going to last, you thought while you drew a shuddering breath and wished with all your being you could have been the you back in that world.

Little sizzling sensations erupted over your skin, everywhere clothes didn’t cover it, and you looked up. Little sparkles floated down from the ceiling in a glittery rain and dissipated as soon as they made contact with something. You looked around through the haze of tears while your lips trembled.

The sparkles began to fall upwards when they made contact with something, becoming a dense mass in the centre. A glittery ball twisting in on itself. “What in the—” your words were interrupted as words began to form midair.

In this world, he’s gone. In this time there is no more of him. Even if it hurts, do not foolishly wish for another life when yours is so precious. The world you just visited may appear as a form of heaven. But did you not see? Your undying love of Snape did not exist. The fanart you adore was nowhere to be found, because in that world you never joined the community. You never went online and found the friends you now have. You never met all the people you love, who love you.

There may be things you wish were different in life, there may be things you hate and writhe in pain over. But do not let the bad overshadow the good. There are things you have done — caused — that you cannot see. How you saved her, how you made him feel seen, how you made them smile — and you’ll never know it. Just like they do not know the way that fanfiction made you feel validated, how that fanart spurred you to confess to yourself you enjoyed a controversial ship, how that fanedit made you bawl your eyes out as you realised you were not alone in your fancasting… Think of all the things you’ve felt thanks to others without letting them know, do you not think it’s the same the other way around, darling?

Do not wish for another life because of something you have no control over. Change the things you can, and evolve in a manner that makes you happier. Have care in your heart for yourself and do not dismiss the good of this life in times of hardship and pain. Do not dismiss your importance in this world even when it hurts you. There is only this life, and it’s yours for the taking. So live it, love it, accept what you cannot change but do your best to be part of the bettering of this world even when you cannot see the difference you yourself make. The only thing permanent in your life, is you. But that does not mean you cannot have a permanent effect on someone else, just like Alan has had on you…

Thank you for changing the world with your existence. Yours through the multiverse, Plex

You exhaled a deep, shuddering breath as the sparkles burst into a display not unlike fireworks before all of it disappeared in a soundless burst. You snivelled and wiped at your cheeks. This is nothing like last time, you thought while you hugged yourself. The remnants of the love you’d felt in the other universe slowly dissipated. Quietly turned to nothing.

You squeezed the fabric over your chest, tried to inhale deeply as you lost the sensation of your other self in that other world. You waited for the loneliness to come, for the hurt and sense of loss to take over. But the sparkling words were etched in your mind. You couldn’t ignore them. The feeling you waited for didn’t take hold. Somehow, you felt warm. Despite being alone, despite being the same you as before, despite having seen what could have been that would never exist in your world. You had something else in this world. You meant something else in this world. But you meant something, were someone, as others here were to you. And that was more than enough for a smile to stretch your lips…

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // AO3 // LINK TREE

A/N: Thank you for still being here, I hope this story was worth the wait for you, darling. Please, do leave a comment and share your thoughts if you wish — I adore every comment I receive and appreciate your investment in my writing ❤

Taglist: @lizlil @snapefiction @darkthought15 @monstreviolet @flowerdementia @marvelschriss @once-upon-an-imagine @ravennight41 @caseydoodles98 @slytherinprincess03 @theconsultingdetectiveswife @grimmyhild @monster-energies @myobscureimaginarium @snowblossomreads @eternal-silvertongued-prince @cherryglossie @setsuna-meiou31 @helena211 @a-queen-and-her-throne @justsaturn0 @turvi @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky @sunnylikesfrogs @mamawolfsmith16 @dianilaws @sassanoe @snowblossomreads @leah1243 @reinekefoxart @reiketsunomizunomegami @lokisbjchn

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[May:2023]

#rickmas2022 #rickmas #alan rickman #rickmaniac #snapedom #fanfic #reader insert #pro snape #judge frollo #deepperplexity #deepperplexity fic

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fangirlies · 2 years ago

Note

Hi, bestie!! I'm here :^)

Shit, sorry!! I didn't think this whole ask thing through... for some reason I thought it'd be better to not flood with asks and united them😥 my bad!

But I'm so happy that you're doing good with the move and that you're finding your peace at a new place! That's all you can ask for. Starting a nee chapter is always so hard, but also so rewarding, I wish this place to bring you comfort, exciting experience and good memories to cherish in the future💜 Hope decorating and brining out the character goes smoothly! Live your best life, bestie!!

And thank you for spending time and answering my silly thoughts in such details. I hope I don't bother you with them, please don't feel pressured that you need to write them all! I love and adore everything that you write (btw, I'm also that recent jealous xavi anon), it is so beautifully done and idk, like a comfort blanket around me, you just have that writing style! Also, your mind is sexy😏 But I know you said that you're a bit in a slump right now and I hope I don't bother or pressure you with these prompts, I want you to be comfortable.

I like talking to you! You're so funny and nice💜 damn, I don't know what to tell about myself... this new year I made a lot of resolutions, but all I'm fulfilling is a part of watching more movies💀 because watching movies/shows is rather hard for me, especially alone. I get distracted and bored easily, so I need some kind of connection to the thing I want to watch to finish it (i have so many shows that I abandonedj. And me hyperfixating on one thing for a long period of time really doesn't help me to get engrossed in something new. I don't why it's like that and how to explain it properly😂 but, yeah, at least I'm doing this, bit I wish I rather read more books... do you have movie or books recommendations? What type of movies and books do you like?

I don't know how to distinct myself, except saying that I'm Elliot anon😂 maybe you could give me a nickname, however being Elliot anon is also nice!

My sweet anon! I’ve missed you (I’m clingy)

It’s completely fine! I wasn’t going to write something for it at first because you described it so well but I pictured it perfectly in my head and decided to roll with it. And then I wanted to answer your question so I separated it bc again, I’m a freak who wanted to give you a detailed answer.

You’re SO right about new chapters being challenging but rewarding. Many people can’t say they love change and I’m not one of them. I love to change things every so often, it gives me something to look forward to. Thank you for your kindhearted wishes! 🫶🏻

Please never feel like you bother me with your thoughts. It’s always fun to write short little blurbs that I can’t make into a whole fic. I love simple and innocent moments like the last one I wrote out. Thank you for enjoying anything I put out there! It truly means so much to me, you have no idea. Trust me, being on tumblr and talking to you guys makes me smile! Each and every one of you hold a special place in my heart.

I thought I was the only one who couldn’t sit through a whole movie!! This felt comforting lol. And the part about needing a connection to a movie/show, I used to not continue watching things if there wasn’t a cute guy to obsess over 🫣 reading books isn’t for everyone just like watching movies isn’t for us lol! Maybe you just haven’t found one you’re extremely into! Not all resolutions can be fulfilled but luckily we’re only in March! Who knows what other one you can scratch off your list! I’m rooting for uuu<3 Unfortunately I have no movie recs but for books- I’m a poetry lover!! When I get my bookshelf I’ll share my collection with you guys but for now Reyna Biddy has changed my life! She seriously puts emotions into perfect words. So if you’d like to search her up on ig just to get a feel for some of her work her @ is reynabiddy!

I love your Elliot anon nick name but if you’d like to pick an emoji and sign off on all your anon asks, you’re more than welcome to! I only have 🍓 taken. The rest is yours to choose from my sweet anon!

#fangirliestalk #Elliot anon talks

0 notes

zepskies · 1 year ago

Text

Aww, endings are always hard, but honestly it warms me that it was both a blessing and a curse this time. 😅💕

Of course Ben is smug. What is it about him that if it was anyone else he’d be annoying? He makes asshole way too sexy 😂

RIGHT?! I think that's what it is. We excuse it because he's too damn fine. 😂😂

I mean… I don’t blame her 😂 and there are worse reasons 🤷🏻‍♀️

Honestly fair. 🤣 I don't judge her in the slightest. It's either that or drawing Trina's blood, so... 🤷🏽‍♀️

[On giving Ben rules #1 and #2]: Absolutely lolll. Those rules needed to be stated. 😂 And he can act pissy and macho all he wants, but you're damn right. He's there for the verbal friction just as much as the physical. lolll

No one else is allowed to speak to him like she does and get away with it.

Oh 100000%%. She's quite literally the chink in his (nearly) indestructible armor.

Again the thought of him in a store buying these things tickles me but of course he pays himself a compliment here 😂

Ikr?? I have a prompt somewhere on my list of him and the reader browsing a Victoria Secret. I think that was from a convo we had a while back. 😂😂

But I'm very glad you enjoyed the whole bathroom scene loll. When I write smut, I've gotta have a reason to narratively, and I think it allowed for a lot of tender, romantic, and character development moments between all the hot and heavy action. 😅 I love the lines you shouted out though! The whole "You're beautiful tonight."/"Now?" exchange was one of my favorites to write in that scene.

“Oh shit. You still hadn’t gotten your IUD replaced…” she’s really not doing very well with this is she 😂😂 the snippet from strong as blood is making more and more sense…

LMFAO exactlyyyyy. 😏 Home girl can't keep up with her birth control and Ben's clearly not giving a fuck. 😂

“Ben met your gaze with a raised brow. “What, can’t take care of my girl?”” 🫠🫠 I’m gone. You know what this does to me. God I loved this whole scene. How caring he is. Nobody can say he doesn’t care for and love the reader. Dear lord.

I absolutely knew you would appreciate that bit. 😂😂 It's been my goal to get to this version of Ben all along. Still surly and egotistical AF but at the same time soft and allowing and attentive only for his person. She's worth the effort, because she's put in the work of loving and caring for him back.

“No one’s got the fucking right to talk about our business,” he said. “And you better not listen to a goddamn word. About me, and sure as shit, not about you.” I feel like you’re trying to kill me with this chapter. Yes. I’m so happy he heard and he spoke up about what was said as it was completely rude and unnecessary. Personally I’d enjoy him bringing Trina down a bit, but this was just perfect 😍

LOLL can I be honest? That line wasn't in there in my original "final" draft. You commented something on the last chapter about hoping he would be able to recognize how the reader might be feeling due to these comments. And in my original draft, he didn't hear what Trina said. But you got me thinking: "what if he did? How would he react?" And so I added in this exchange.

I think we'd all enjoy him (or the reader or anyone) bringing Trina down a few pegs. But I think we also all have those family moments that unfortunately don't get resolved the way we want them too. So I thought it would be more unexpected not to have the "big blowout" in this mini series (maybe in the next family gathering...).

And I think it actually gave Ben the opportunity to once again show his growth. He's slowly coming to care about others (like Marie) through his love for his girl.

I really loved Marie and Louisa’s gifts to him. They were thoughtful and gives him more family which he desperately needs. But I also love that again, the journal started to rub him the wrong way but he tampered it down and saw the gift for what it was. I was actually really proud of him 😍

Yes, yes, yes! That's exactly where I'm heading with Marie and Louisa. Especially Marie in this one. She's a tender soul, maybe reminds Ben of his own mother in some respects. I'd love for him to have a mother figure once again, to continue softening him. 🥹

And the photo album was adorable. I loved the different photos you had included, both bens old ones and the new ones with the team. It was such a wonderful gift for him. It gave me all the feels 😍

Aww I'm so glad you enjoyed that part!! I hope it didn't drag on too much. In the honor of "auld lang syne," I just wanted to shade in some of the past with the new memories Ben and his girl are making together. ❤️💚

Loved the ending. After all he’s done I think he earned a little care from the reader 😜

Hahahaa I thought so too!! At the end of the day, they take care of each other now. 😜💕

Again, this chapter and whole mini series was perfect. I’ve absolutely loved it and can’t wait to see what you do with the next one! Fantastic job 😘

Thank you so much, lovely!! It was such a joy to write. It forced me to fill in a lot of character development things I hadn't intended on when I initially wrote Part 1 as a one-shot. But I think you're going to like where we're going next in Strong as Blood. 😏💋

Love Actually - Part 3

Paring: Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader

Summary: You and Ben steel yourselves in order to meet your crazy family for Christmas dinner.

AN: And here’s Part 3, lovelies. Stick around after the end for a special announcement (new BMD fic dropping next weekend)!

Remember, this is set in the same world as “Break Me Down,” and set before “Checkerboard.” There will be a few references to the original story in this. But on the whole, this can be read as a stand-alone!

Word Count: 5,300 Warnings: 18+ only! Smutty smut ahead. Lots of fluff and a potential overload of feels.~

Part 3: “Auld Lang Syne”

You leaned down, subtly grabbing his thigh.

“I need you,” you whispered in his ear. The tone of your voice set his blood alight with new interest.

Ben’s resulting smirk was subtle, but edged. “A tour it is.”

Ben got up from the couch, giving you a thinly veiled look of smugness. He knew you’d come around.

You nearly rolled your eyes.

But when you told your grandfather your plans to show your boyfriend the rest of the house, he just waved the two of you off. He was too invested in the baseball game to give it much thought.

Which left Ben to follow you up the stairs, where he admired the curve of your ass in this little dress. He couldn’t help himself. He reached out and grabbed a delectable handful.

You gasped and clung to the guardrail. You shot him a warning look over your shoulder, despite your smile.

Not yet, your gaze told him. But you took his hand and guided him the rest of the way up. His grip tightened on yours.

All right. He could wait.

When they got to the second floor though, Ben started to get curious about the large two-story house.

“I thought you said your mom had debts,” he said. “Supposedly, that’s why you took on the job of hunting me down.”

You chuckled humorlessly. “Don’t let that Betty Crocker apron fool you. She’s a degenerate gambler.”

Behind you, Ben’s brows rose a bit.

You paused a step. “Or, well, she used to be. As you know, my family has issues.”

He snorted in response. Something else occurred to him though.

“Is this the house you grew up in?” he asked. You full on stopped walking then.

“Oh, no,” you said, with a firm shake of your head. “She sold that house after the divorce. She bought this one with the settlement money.”

Ben ruminated over that as you led him into the guest bathroom. He closed the door behind him with a soft click, and by the time he turned around, you were there with your warm hands on his chest, shoving back his jacket.

He smirked and shrugged it off the rest of the way, then draped it on the doorknob behind him. He started with unbuttoning and rolling up the sleeves of his black dress shirt.

You watched him with hunger in your eyes, running your hands down his firm chest and solid abs.

You heaved a breath of relief when he pulled you in. He wrapped his arms around your waist and started kissing down your neck. You clung to his arms and tried to stop yourself from digging your nails into his nice shirt.

“What changed your mind?” Ben asked.

“Are you complaining?” you quipped.

“Always a fucking smartass,” he rejoined. And his lips left you, with him giving you raised brow. His thigh slipped between your legs, a slow and torturous friction. “Maybe I’ll just leave that pretty pussy on fire.”

Ugh, you thought. He could be so annoying. You leveled your stern eyes up at him.

“I need you to fuck me. Right now,” you said. “Or I’m gonna rip my aunt’s face off.”

You reached down to cup his length firmly through his slacks, earning a grunt from him. It ended on a groan when you grazed him with your nails. He chuckled deeply.

“That’s kinda hot,” he replied. An understatement. The hairs on his arms were standing up, along with his cock.

You smiled in amusement. “You would think so.”

He grabbed your arms and meant to kiss you, but you stopped him with your fingers against his lips.

“Two rules: this lipstick doesn’t come off. And no. Ripping. The dress.”

By no means did you want to get caught doing this. You already felt guilty, and you two hadn’t even done anything yet. But you needed this, or else you weren’t sure you could get through dinner without any violent incidents.

But you could tell that Ben was annoyed at being given restrictions as he stared down at you.

“You’re making a lot of fucking demands tonight,” he said, squeezing your arms a bit.

You smirked and tilted your face up to him. You leaned up, nearly brushing your lips with his.

“Isn’t it more satisfying when you have to work for it?” you asked.

Ben huffed, and almost rolled his eyes. If there was one thing you enjoyed doing, it was testing his fucking patience.

But then he smirked. “Fine.”

He gripped your arms tighter and turned you around, pressing you against the pristine granite countertop. You met his darkened gaze in the mirror.

You knew then that he was going to do one of his favorite things: taking you from behind while he made you watch. It wasn’t the first time, and you knew it wouldn’t be the last. But you parted your legs, your lower belly quivering with anticipation as his thigh encouraged you.

His hands soothed down your arms, dragging across your body, squeezing your breasts over your dress while his lips burned down your neck once more. His teeth grazed your skin, making you shudder.

You then remembered to turn the faucet on in the sink. It would create some more background noise, and hopefully disguise your moans as his hands traveled down your body.

You helped him slide the skirt of your dress up, tug your pantyhose down to your ankles without ripping them.

“Hmm, I like the black lace,” he murmured behind you. His fingers dragged down your skin along with your panties.

“I know,” you replied on a shaky breath, as his fingers teased the slit of your pussy from behind, brushing between the folds. “You bought ‘em last week.”

“Did I?” he mused, as his fingers found your clit. He rubbed a bit roughly, drawing a pleased sound from your lips. “I’ve got good taste.”

A smile broke out across your face. “See? I never need to pay you any compliments. You can stroke your own ego just fine.”

Ben tilted his head at you. He peered around your shoulder to catch your eye. You gave him a sly look over your shoulder, though it was edged with desire.

“Oh yeah?” His words were a challenge. His fingers entered you then, earning an even deeper moan from you, though you tried to taper it down. “Maybe I should let you stroke your own too, huh?”

You shook your head, biting your lip. Your inner walls were already clenching on his fingers, and you had to grab his arm and the counter for balance.

“Ben, please,” you whispered more raggedly. His smirk took on a wicked edge.

“Oh, now it’s please?” he said, his voice drawing deeper, more gruff. “Please what?”

You couldn’t speak. His fingers were working overtime pulsing inside you, while his other hand joined, parting your folds to press on your clit like a button. You were so fucking close, you could taste it…

But as soon as that coil began to truly tighten, Ben withdrew his fingers. You panted for breath, and your gaze snapped up to his in the mirror. You glared at him.

“What the f—”

“Answer me,” he demanded. “Or I really will walk the fuck out right now.”

Big talk, you thought, from the man with a rock-hard dick. But you blew out a breath and conceded to his demands.

“Please,” you said, reaching back to stroke his cheek, running your fingers through his hair, bringing him closer. Your hand clenched in his hair. And with the other, you took his hand, still wet from where it had been inside you, and brushed it against your slippery folds.

“This is all because of you,” you said. “Only ever for you. Fuck me until I break an ankle in these heels. ‘Til I can’t fucking breathe.”

Ben’s chest warmed. And it wasn’t just about his pride.

Somehow, you gave him everything he wanted to hear and more. Maybe that was part of what he loved about you. Even when you demanded from him, you gave him more of yourself.

So he gave you what you wanted. He guided you down onto the counter and rucked up your dress. Per rule #2, he did it gently enough so he wouldn’t rip the fabric.

You heard his pants unzipping, felt the weeping head of his cock against your folds, teasing you for a moment. You gripped the counter and made a sound of pleading frustration.

“I gotcha, baby,” Ben said, lowly in your ear. He gripped your hip and guided his cock inside you, nice and slow. You both breathed hard, trying to keep your voices down. He then bottomed out, and it made your inner walls flutter and tighten. He made a gutteral sound, low and pleased. “Such a good girl.”

His darkened green eyes fixed on yours in the mirror. It was heat and desire, but it was also deeper. It always had been, ever since he met you.

And for you, his gaze alone was a molten caress. If you had it your way, you could very well spend the rest of the night in the guest bathroom. In this very moment…

But it had already been a while in here. You didn’t know how much time you had left before someone came to find you two, so you squeezed his hand on your hip.

“Get going, cowboy,” you teased, but it was really a command. Ben saw it in your heated gaze in the mirror, meeting his. He slid out of you slow at first, but snapped back in harder. It made you jolt, but also shudder and squeeze him from the inside out. He wished he had the time to do this how he wanted, taking his time, but that was one thing they didn’t have.

He made up for it by taking you hard and deep, putting you through your paces. You held on for dear life while trying not to let your voice raise higher. It was a challenge for you, and you knew Ben liked hearing your voice. But when he hit a particularly good angle, you couldn’t help but cry out a bit.

He brushed your hair away from your neck and pressed his lips there. He had to bite down to stifle his own grunts. It had you gasping at pain mixed with pleasure.

He was getting close too; you could feel it in his wilder thrusts, in the tightening of his hand on your hip. You needed just a bit more.

“Ben,” you whispered. He heard the ragged need in your voice. He saw it in your eyes when he met them in the mirror, desperate for release.

“Tell me,” he ground out.

You took his hand guided it again down to part your folds. He took the hint and once again circled the pads of his fingers against your clit—this time with purpose. Your breath hitched as the coil in your belly finally snapped and released its warmth.

He gave you a few more hard thrusts before his hips stuttered as he groaned, and he spilled inside you.

Oh shit. You still hadn’t gotten your IUD replaced…

Oh fucking well, you thought, as your core still quivered with pleasure. This was worth playing a bit fast and loose with your birth control.

For a while, the sounds of your mingled breaths were almost drowned out by the water running. You turned off the faucet. Then your eyes met Ben’s in the mirror, and you smiled.

The corner of his mouth raised. He slid out of you, but you kept him close with a hand around the back of his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair. Part of you couldn’t believe you just fucked your boyfriend in your mother’s house, in the guest bathroom of all places. But you felt all the better for it.

Or at least, you no longer had a desire for blood. You stroked the arm that still held you upright, more bracing now than restrictive. You felt his seed spilling down your inner thighs, but you couldn’t yet force yourself to move. Your legs were still shaky.

However, you knew you could rely on the strong pillar of his arms holding you. Ben rested his cheek against your hair, pressing a kiss there.

“You’re beautiful tonight,” he said.

Your eyes widened with soft shock. When it slowly faded, you bit your lip. Your body shook with quiet laughter as your brows rose high.

“Right now?” you asked. With your dress rucked up and your pantyhose rolled down to your ankles.

“Yeah. Right now,” Ben said. “A fucking sight.”

And he meant it.

You could tell, and that warmed you down to your toes. Your smile softened as you rested against him and closed your eyes for a moment.

“You don’t know how glad I am that you’re here with me,” you said. “Thank you.”

“I’ve got some idea,” he murmured, smirking as you once again trembled with a giggle.

You reluctantly detangled yourself from him to reach down under the sink for a washcloth. Ben let go of your waist, only so he could take the small towel from your hand. You looked up at him in confusion, but he leaned around you to run the cloth under a bit of warm water from the sink.

He then got down on one knee in front of you, and proceeded to clean you up himself. Your eyes widened as you stared down at him. Your breath caught in your throat.

He’d never done this before. Something about it made you blush. The sheer intimacy of it, probably, of his hand running the warm cloth up your bare inner thighs. His free hand held one of your calves, his thumb resting just under your knee.

You had to reach for his shoulder to stabilize yourself when the cloth swiped between your thighs, against your sensitive core. It made your lower belly tingle again with a spark of arousal. You breathed in slow and deep before you spoke.

“Not that I’m complaining, but…” you trailed. You weren’t even able to finish your question.

Ben met your gaze with a raised brow. “What, can’t take care of my girl?”

It took you a moment, but eventually you smiled. The kind of smile that made your insides warm and buoyant, and your stomach clench.

You had a feeling he’d overheard you and your sister talking earlier. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d eavesdropped with his superior hearing.

Your expression faded a bit when something occurred to you. You tilted your head at him.

“You heard everything my aunt said, didn’t you?” you asked.

Ben paused a moment, holding the towel against your inner thigh. His lips drew downward as he remembered what he’d heard while trying to concentrate on the baseball game with George.

“I’m just sayin’!” Trina said. “He might have forever, but you certainly don’t.”

If Louisa hadn’t stepped in when she had, Ben might’ve had to ruin his new suit, if not the evening.

“Seems like having a big fucking mouth runs in your family,” he muttered.

You snorted. “Yeah, but mine’s endearing. She’s just a bitch, still bitter from her divorce.”

Ben didn’t answer. Though after he finished cleaning you up, he rested and elbow on his bent knee. His free hand dragged up your thigh and over your hip, squeezing soft flesh.

“Yeah well, put her in her place next time, or I will,” he said. His tone was edged, and you gave him a wry look.

“I’ll try not to give you the chance,” you said.

“I mean it,” Ben said. His gaze bore into yours, unyielding, even from where he knelt at your feet. He stood to his full height, tucking in his shirt and zipping his pants back up as he went.

“No one’s got the fucking right to talk about our business,” he said. “And you better not listen to a goddamn word. About me, and sure as shit, not about you.”

A small, sharp breath got stuck in your throat. Just then, you found you had to swallow past a swell of emotion lodging in your throat.

His hands found their way back to your hips and squeezed gently, but with purpose. You read it in his eyes.

“You hearing me?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yeah.”

Your aunt was someone who always “meant well.” You had gotten far too used to swallowing your tongue for your mother’s sake. And at the end of the day, you usually knew how to let Trina’s words roll off. You’d certainly had plenty of practice.

But regardless, your heart grew for this man.

You took his face between your hands, and you kissed him deeply, breaking rule #1.

You took a few more minutes to fix your clothes, your hair, and yes, your lipstick.

When you two eventually went back downstairs, the table was nearly set. The appetizers and wine remained, along with the plates and silverware. All that was missing was dinner itself.

“Okay, looks like dinner’s about ready. I’m gonna go and help,” you said. You gave Ben a parting smile and let your fingers run down the back of his arm. He shot you a wink, and one last pat on the ass.

You had to stifle your squeal, sending him a playfully warning look on your way to the kitchen. You stepped back in to see your mom pouring the cranberry sauce into a serving pitcher.

“Oh, glad Miss Congeniality could grace us again with her presence,” Trina remarked at the sight of you.

You gave her a flat smile. “What do you need?”

“We’re serving. Help your mom,” she said, nodding behind her. You wordlessly agreed and went over to Marie, who gave you a curious look.

“Where were you all that time?” she asked. Louisa looked over with the same question in her eyes.

“Well, I said hi to Grandpa,” you said. It wasn’t a lie, and technically, nor were your next words. “And then I gave Ben a tour of the house.”

When the fuck is dinner already? Ben thought as he approached the dining table filled with mini quiche, pigs-in-a-blanket, and other appetizers. His stomach was starting to growl something fierce. He was craving real food, but he still grabbed one of the small plates.

While he surveyed the layout of finger food, Great Aunt Silvia sidled up next to him with her cane in hand. Ben noticed her out of the corner of his eye. According to George, she’d had a hip replacement last month.

“Hey, there,” he greeted somewhat politely, if distracted by adding food to his small plate.

“Oh, my days. You’re Soldier Boy,” she said in surprise. Her eyes twinkled with delight.

Where’ve you been, lady? Ben thought in annoyance. Oh, that’s right. Passed out in a damn oxy coma.

Before he could respond with something half gracious, he felt a bony hand get a meaty handful of his ass.

He actually flinched, more at the suddenness than anything else. A pig-in-a-blanket flew from his plate and rolled off the table.

Ben gave the old woman an incredulous look. What the fuck?

“Excuse me?” he uttered.

But of course, she played dumb. And she ducked quick when you came over with the mashed potatoes in large bowl. You set it down on the table, but you noted the grouchy look on his face as he looked past you into the living room. Great Aunt Sylvia waddled away with the help of her cane, back to her nice recliner.

“What’s the matter?” you asked, earning his attention.

“Silvia’s a wily old broad,” he muttered. At the look on your face, however, he felt the need to clarify. “Apparently she got my ass confused with the quiche.”

You bit your lip, and your eyes widened. You had to stifle a shocked giggle as you glanced past him to your great aunt, who’d taken her usual seat by her brother. You slid Ben a knowing smirk.

“I thought you liked older women,” you teased.

He scoffed. “Gotta draw the line somewhere. I think ‘hip replacement’ is that line.”

“Not running for the Astroglide, huh?” you whispered in his ear.

He grimaced, even though he also wanted to laugh. He just shook his head.

“Jesus Christ, enough.”

You stifled a laugh through your nose and soothed his arm.

“Here, help us with getting the ham on the table. Maybe we can avoid another member of my family playing grab ass.”

Once Christmas dinner was all set on the dining table, you were practically salivating. You had a hard time deciding on what to try first: the ham, the sweet potato casserole, the cranberry sauce, or stick as much of all three on your fork as you could.

You went with the latter, and Louisa eyed you with a laugh.

“What?” you asked with your mouth full. It got Ben’s attention as well.

“You do this every year,” Louisa remarked. “It’s like you forgot how long it takes to get dinner on the table in this house.”

“I’m freakin’ starving,” you admitted.

“Yeah? Worked up an appetite, did you?” Ben asked, a bit pointedly, despite the way he sipped at his wine. (And paying you back for that Astroglide quip).

You shot him a warning look at his audacity.

Louisa seemed to be the only one who caught the exchange, with a suspicious brow raise.

“So Ben,” Trina began, around a mouthful of ham. Already her voice set you on edge. “What was it like in the ‘40s? You know, with the Nazis and everything.”

You and Ben shared a subtle glance. His jaw clenched.

Fuuuucking hell, you thought.

From the head of the table, Grandpa George looked over at his eldest daughter with an annoyed glint in his eye.

“Katrina, do us all a favor,” he said wryly. “Keep stuffin’ your face.”

You bit your lip against a grin. Louisa shared your same problem, snorting into her Diet Coke.

Trina looked adequately indignant, but to everyone’s relief, she just pursed her lips and speared at her plate.

The rest of dinner was interesting, to say the least, with many questions thrown to Ben about his celebrity days. He ate up the attention, just as you thought he would. It seemed your little escapade upstairs loosened him up too. He told his favorite stories, editing the more graphic anecdotes out of some of them, you noticed gratefully.

The atmosphere only got tense when Ben bit into some kind of casserole Marie made. The texture was soft and stringy with green beans, but there was something unpleasantly sweet, and even crunchy in the middle. Uncooked noodles, maybe? Frankly, he wasn’t sure what he was eating.

“You all right, hun?” Marie asked him.

“What is this?” Ben asked, pointing down at his plate with a fork.

“Ah.” Trina peered at his plate, and then the suspect casserole. “It’s probably not quite right. God love her, but my sister’s no Gordon Ramsay.”

You frowned as your mom’s gaze fell. Her lips drew downwards in disappointment.

Before you could speak up, Ben’s voice stopped you.

“You know what,” Ben said. His voice was tight, in a way that told you he might just snap. Your aunt’s questions had gotten more intrusive and annoying over the past hour, too much even for him to let roll down his back. He was used to dealing with shitty press, but Trina was fucking relentless.

Someone better fucking muzzle this bitch before I do it for her.

The words were about to fly out of his mouth, in a very real threat. Ben only took his belt off in public for two reasons: a good fuck and a good old-fashioned hog tie. Your aunt was about to get the latter.

However, he could tell by the way you were gripping the edge of the table, you were bracing yourself for whatever he was going to say next. All eyes were on him.

Ben drew in a breath. With every cell of effort left in him, he turned to Marie with a smile. As pleasant as he could manage.

“I was just trying to figure out what you put in this, because it’s delicious,” he said.

Marie blinked with a bit of surprise, but then, she brightened.

“Oh…well, it’s just green bean casserole. A bit of butter, some Campbell’s cream of mushroom soup. That classic recipe,” she said.

But she paused, in a way that told Ben that the other shoe was about to drop.

“…And I just added a few raisins and walnuts this time. For some texture,” she said with a shrug. “You know, something different.”

She smiled at Ben, while he and the rest of the table tried not to grimace. Who the fuck puts raisins in cream of mushroom? That’s just wrong.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” she said.

Ben offered her a nod, but he had to take a long sip of wine to wash the unpleasant mix of overbearing salt and sweetness down.

He felt your soft hand squeeze his under the table. When he looked over, he found your subtle, thankful smile. The corner of his mouth raised, however slightly.

The night ticked on, and Ben subtly checked his watch while he chilled out on the couch. He was at the edge of the festivities now, as your family was exchanging gifts by the modest Christmas tree in the living room.

He surveyed them all—warm and comfortable with one other as they joked and hugged and talked and laughed. Even Trina looked less irritating.

Ben felt a bit like an intruder.

Hell, he didn’t think he’d ever had this. A quiet, family Christmas.

Though he was a bit surprised when Marie was the first one to walk over to him. She sat down on the couch and offered him two gift bags. One was larger than the other.

“You didn’t have to,” he told her, but she waved him off.

“Nonsense. When I saw this, I couldn’t help thinking of you,” she said. Ben began opening the larger one first. It was a simple, dark blue bag.

“You might think it’s silly,” she said, folding her hands in her lap in a slightly nervous gesture. “Feel free to return it if you don’t like it.”

Ben pulled out a nice bottle of whiskey. He actually appreciated this one.

“Oh! That’s from Louisa,” said Marie.

“Really?” He glanced over and found Louisa sitting on the floor beside you.

You were busy trying to cut through a present Grandpa George had wrapped with duct tape, just to be an asshole. (He did this to you every year, precisely because it frustrated you so much.)

But Louisa looked up and met Ben’s gaze, giving him a wry smile and a lazy soldier’s salute. His lips quirked, and he inclined his head in wordless thanks.

“This one next,” Marie prompted him. She tapped on the second gift bag, which was bright green and shiny.

There he found a leatherbound journal and a set of silver ballpoint pens. They looked expensive. They also reminded him of a set his father used to keep in his desk, in his study. Even the smell of the leather brought him back to that room, filled with books, crisp ink-filled pages, and tumblers of whiskey.

“I’ve worked in a hospital for over ten years, in the psychology wing,” Marie said. “I see a lot of veterans. Lisa, my friend who’s a nurse? She told me that writing things down can help with memories you want to keep, and sort through the ones you’d rather not.”

Ben held her gaze for a moment, but it soon fell to the journal. He didn’t really know what to say. For once, he was at a loss for words.

Mostly because he was irritated. He didn’t need what she was offering, and implying…

Still, it was hard to get mad at someone like Marie. It would be like all those times he’d snapped at his own mother, leaving him feeling hollow inside afterwards. He’d always apologized to her later…in his own way.

But that was a long time ago.

“Sorry,” Marie said eventually. “I know, you’re too busy for all that. But at least you’ve got the whiskey.”

“Thank you,” Ben said. But the reserved smile he offered her was more genuine than even he expected. The journal and the pens still laid in his lap.

Marie smiled warmly, and in it, Ben saw your inner softness. The way you cared about your family and your friends, and him…he knew then that it began here.

Marie gave his cheek a motherly pat. Ben allowed it, begrudgingly.

“We’re so glad you’re here, honey,” she said. “I hope you had a good time.”

He was a bit relieved when she finally moved on. She headed over to Louisa, who was opening one of her gifts. You got up off the floor returned to your boyfriend with a wrapped box in your hand. First, you admired his small haul.

“Look who’s popular,” you noted with a grin. Ben gave you a bemused look and put the gifts back in their respective bags.

“I’ve got one more for you,” you said, with a teasing smile that made him suspicious. You handed him the box, which was about the size of a large book. The sticker said it was from you, to him.

His brows furrowed. “What’s this?”

You already got him the watch. But at your gesturing, he ripped the green wrapping paper off to find…a photo album.

“Really, what is this?” he asked.

“You can’t tell?”

“I know what it is—”

“Well, then open it,” you prodded. You sat down next to him as he started flipping through the album.

The very first picture wiped the curious expression from his face. It was his mother, crisp in black and white. She was young and beautiful and smiling almost shyly for the camera on a windy day.

Right beside it, there was one of his parents’ wedding pictures, old and yellowed around the corners. The third was a faded picture of the club where his parents met. His mother had been a singer there.

You leaned over with a hand on his shoulder. Ben looked over at you.

“What the hell did you do?” Ben he asked. His face was hard to read, but he didn’t look upset. His tone was more resigned.

“I found your stash of pictures under the bed, so I thought I’d put them together for you,” you said. You bit your lip in worry, hoping he would like it. You weren’t sure of his reaction yet.

After a moment, he kept flipping. Next were a few pictures of himself, incredibly young and already with a familiar cocky grin. There was even a rare picture of him and his parents together. He remembered when and where it was taken—at his father’s birthday, right after Ben got kicked out of boarding school.

He hadn’t looked at these pictures in…hell. It’d been decades. He'd retrieved them from an old storage locker last month, but hadn't gotten around to actually opening up the box. Now, he supposed, he didn't have to.

But the album then skipped ahead, by a lot, because the next row of pictures was unfamiliar to him—ones you must’ve added.

They were of the Supe Affairs team. One was a group picture Hughie managed to grab with all of you in it.

There was another right beside it, of Hughie trying to lift Ben’s shield.

“When the fuck did that little shit get ahold of my shield?” Ben groused.

“No idea,” you said with a smile, and you flipped the page. There was an old school polaroid of you with Frenchie and Kimiko, sharing milkshakes. Then you and Annie, clinking cocktails together. Followed by you and M.M. trying to beat Butcher at backgammon.

And then one of you, your friend Yvette, and her son Devon in Central Park. Another beside it, on that same day, where Ben had an arm raised high and parallel to the ground, and Devon clung onto his arm with a wide smile.

Ben lingered on that picture for a moment. He was too engrossed in it to see you glance at him, smiling.

He flipped to the next page, where there was a picture of just you and Ben, sleeping in the jet on the way back from a rare field mission you were a part of. He was still in his supe suit, with an arm thrown around your waist. You were resting on his chest, and both of you were completely knocked out. Ben quirked a smile at that one.

On that page and the next was a series of pictures from the past few months. He didn’t know this, but you’d been collecting them from your phone and had gotten them developed.

There was the first time Ben got you to ride a motorcycle with him. You were apprehensive, clinging to him for dear life while he grinned. It had taken him a while to convince you to hop on, but the only thing that worked was finally telling you the truth.

“You really think for one damn second that I’m gonna let you fall?”

The next picture was one he got of you, fresh out of the shower with a towel barely wrapped around you. You were clearly annoyed, but also amused that he’d surprised you with the camera. Ben now pointed to it.

“That one’s my favorite,” he grinned.

“Shocker,” you said with a chuckle. “Keep flipping.”

He then got to one you took of him. He was sitting out on the balcony, half-dressed with a cigar puffing away. The sun was setting beyond him. You caught his profile as he turned to look at you over his shoulder.

It was a good memory for you, and some damn good photography skills, if you did say so yourself.

But there was another picture that drew Ben’s eye. It was one that Annie sneakily took of you and him on a night out with her, Hughie, Kimiko, and Frenchie. After a bit of alcohol and cajoling, you’d managed to get Ben out on the dance floor. You were both dewy with sweat from dancing. The lighting was off because of the darkness of the club.

But the way he was holding you, looking at you with fire thinly veiled behind his eyes, and the way you were looking up at him, like you’d never been more satisfied than to be right where you were…

It was a damn perfect moment captured in four corners. And as Ben’s finger traced the edge of them, he couldn’t stop staring at what it held.

Until you leaned in and kissed his cheek.

“Merry Christmas,” you said. And you hoped it was officially a good one.

When Ben once again turned his head to look at you, he couldn’t help but reach out and frame your face with his hand. He then leaned in and kissed you, unhurried, but with an underlying passion.

Delightful heat crawled down your spine. You grasped his collar to keep him where you wanted him.

Meanwhile, the two of you didn’t realize that the rest of your family was surreptitiously watching the little scene. Trina and Marie shared amused smiles. George was glad to see that you finally seemed happy. Sylvia was, once again, passed out in the recliner.

Louisa’s expression was more reserved…but her eyes softened. Maybe she didn’t have to worry about you so much after all.

And when Ben finally parted from you, he thumbed gently at your chin.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he said.

You and Ben left your mother’s house with plenty of leftover food and a haul of presents, which you both brought upstairs into your apartment.

“So, I know there were some snafus, but it was nice, right?” you asked him as you made your way into the bedroom.

Ben was already there at his dresser, taking off his new watch and placing it back in its black suede box for safe keeping. He considered your words with a nod, and a smile you couldn’t see.

“It wasn’t bad,” he said.

You nodded in satisfaction. That was practically a glowing review, coming from him.

His gaze found yours in the mirror, those perfectly red painted lips forming a smile as you approach from behind. Your hands travelled through the bows of his arms to unbuckle his belt for him.

“I know you did me a lot of favors today, but I’m gonna need one more,” you said, with a coy smile curving your lips. “I need your help taking off this lipstick.”

Smirking, Ben turned in your arms and leaned back casually against the dresser. Using his unfastened belt as leverage, you leaned up in your heels and met his lips in a slow, but fiery kiss.

His eyes unconsciously closed as the scent of your perfume once again invaded his nose. It was less powerful by now, but it still clung to your skin like a soft imprint. He liked it.

After your lips drew away from his, Ben watched you make a show of undoing the small latch on his pants, and then his zipper. He sunk his fingers into the soft waves of your hair, and he gave you a charming grin that once got him starlets and movie deals.

“Well, I’m nothing if not a gentleman,” he said.

You smirked at that. You didn’t know if fucking you in your mom’s house constituted as gentlemanly behavior, but you’d let that slide.

And you did some sliding yourself, down his strong thighs and onto your knees. He could take care of you all right, but you prided yourself on taking care of him too.

AN: And there you have it, folks. 😜 What did you think? From bathroom shenanigans and Christmas dinner to some good old-fashioned gift giving. I think we covered it all! lol

Coming Soon: "Strong As Blood"

The next story I have lined up for the BMD-verse will probably be my last planned one for a hot minute, other than one request I got that I really want to do in the near future (but I haven't written it as of yet).

This next one is called, "Strong As Blood":

Summary: After you accidentally break through a solid wood table, you know there’s something wrong with you. You begin to have your suspicions, but can you keep it from Ben long enough to find out?

(In other words: This is the story of how you and Ben discover that you’re pregnant.)

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moonlit-imagines · 3 years ago

Text

Our Little Game

Druig x Eternal!reader

warnings:

a/n:

prompt: anonymous: “Hello! You’re writing is soooo good and I saw you’re taking requests for Eternals which is my current obsession 😂 I wanted to request a Druig x eternal!reader one shot where the two of them got married centuries before Ikaris and Sersi but they decided to keep it a secret since they want their relationship to be private and special for them but one day Druig says something along the lines of “that reminds me of our wedding” and accidentally lets slip that he and the reader are married and the rest of the eternals are shocked because they had no idea. Thank you in advance if you end up writing this! 🤗”

Druig and you always had a special connection, that was for sure. But had the others noticed it? Unlikely. The two of you were hard to get a good read on, and you had used that to your advantage. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust them to know of your relationship, it was a sweet feeling when only one heart knew of the other.

You weren’t always an item, but as the years went on it was hard not to act on your feelings. They started off as glances. Ones into the soul, ones that spoke loud to each each other, saying, “are you okay, I’m here for you, stay safe, don’t leave me…”

It was commonplace for you to worry about one another during battle, especially in the condition you’d find yourself when the matter was settled. It was Druig feel uneasy, even after Ajak had healed you completely. What if one day she would be too late?

So while drinking, celebrating, and feasting one night, in the ruckus of it all, Druig had stepped behind you and whispered in your ear.

“Come with me, I need to show ya something.” You twisted your neck to face him and your nose brushed against his cheek, making you smile. “Well, what are you waiting ya waiting for. We don’t have all night.” Druig urged and wrapped his arm up in yours, quietly sneaking you away from the festivities. You stepped away, out of the torchlight and away from the heat, hearing the clamor of dishes and rowdiness of the voices begin to fade and you neared the sand of the beach.

“What’s the occasion, handsome?” You stared up at the wide moon the shined onto the open sea, admiring the beautiful of this planet you were blessed to protect.

“That would have to be to our true beginning.” He admitted and led you to a spot on the beach that had two cups and a jug of wine sitting beside. “It isn’t much, but I’d like to think you’re the one who makes this night so special.” Druig explained as you smiled at the layout. “You like it?”

“It’s very…” You paused to think, but you already had what you wanted it say in mind. “Us.” He enjoyed your response and took you by the hand, bringing you and him to your seats in the sand. You leaned your head on his shoulder as he poured into your cups and offered you yours.

“A cheers to embracing our love.” Druig and you tapped your cups together and began to drink, enjoying each other’s calming presence and even shutting your eyes to take in all in. The smell of the saltwater, the sound of the gentle waves pushing towards the shoreline, the distant laughter of the people you’d grown close to, the soft breaths of your other half that you’d finally get to call your own. This night felt perfect.

As the night went on, you and Druig had leaned back to look at the stars, admiring each one’s individual beauty. “Do you ever miss Olympia? Or space?”

“No. No, not really.” Druig turned his head to look at you. “Especially not now. I’d never get to see how beautiful you look with this moon shining on ya.” He reached his closer hand up to your cheek and ran his thumb across. “I can’t tell ya how long I’ve waited to do this.”

“It’s a good thing I already know.” You replied and awaited his soon to come kiss, feeling the warmth of his lips against yours for the first time. Something you’d only been able to imagine before. You didn’t regret doing this sooner, either. Everything just felt perfect. Slow, thoughtful kisses on the beach, all alone. His hand was taken in yours as he parted from the lips he might soon become addicted to.

“I am in love with you, y/n.” He admitted to you and you gently brought his palm to your lips, giving it a quick kiss.

“I’ve been in love with you for centuries.” You replied and used his hand as a pillow as you just gazed into each others eyes.

“Your eyes look ravishing in the moonlight.” He complimented and you quickly closed them as a joke. “Yeah? Really? I could always mind control them back open.” He joked.

“Yeah, right.” You nearly snorted and opened your eyes back up.

“Ah, but see? You opened them again.” Druig got you and taunted you as if it was some master plan, but you still giggled at his antics just because it was him. He brought that smile to your face and made you laugh so hard you forgot why. And that night was just perfect for you, one that defined your relationship with your one true love.

“Are we going to tell anyone?” You asked him a few days later after sneaking away to your room, letting him explore what belongings you had acquired over the centuries spent here.

“Mm,” your lover hummed, “no, I don’t think so.” He looked at you sitting on your bed and saw your tilted head. “Do you want to?”

“No, actually.” You revealed and he raised his eyebrows, setting down one of your artifacts, a carved statue meant to be a gift, down in it’s proper spot and sat beside you.

“Any particular reason why that is?” Druig tilted his head back and waited for you to give an explanation, but the two of you both cautiously went silent and stared at the door when hearing someone in passing. “I think they’re gone.”

“Well, uh,” you started, trying to remember the question and your answer, “I think that keeping it a secret would be nice.”

“Very thorough answer, good job.” He snickered and leaned over to your nightstand to grab a handful of grapes.

“Well, why don’t you give me your reason?” You playfully shoved him and felt his arm wrap around you.

“I was gonna say that a little privacy would do us a lot of good.” Druig said, popping another piece of fruit into his mouth. “Plus, even though we’ve been in love for how many years? I don’t think anyone’s noticed yet.” He pointed out and you thought over that observation.

“Huh…I think you’re right.” You scrunched your face up with a little frown that quickly turned into a mischievous smirk. “Wanna make it a game?”

“You know I do.” He planted a kiss on your cheek. “What game would that be?”

“Whoever lets it slip that we’re a couple first loses.” You plainly put it and brought a matching smirk to his face.

“And the stakes?” His free hand crept to your knee and slowly moved up your thigh, with his face inching closer to yours, a bit playful tonight.

“Oh, I have a few ideas.” Which would be discussed in a matter of time, but there was something a little more exciting you’d like to do first.

And as the years went on, your bond only grew stronger. Strong enough for Druig to ask for your hand in marriage.

“I thought it was about time I asked you to marry me?” Druig appeared out of nowhere at the lightly decorated spot he’d asked you to meet him at, holding a bouquet of hand picked flowers from nearby. Tears of joy threatened to spill, and did so after you ran into his arms and he pulled you in tight. “What do you say, my darling? One week from today? I figure we’ve waited long enough.”

“Let’s do it.” You looked up to him with sparkling eyes and he snuck the bouquet between you and him, trying to get your attention.

“You know, I worked pretty hard getting this all tidied up. Thoughts?” He caressed your cheek and handed you the gift of his proposal, an amazing scent emerging from the flowers.

“You outdid yourself.” You graciously complimented and he walked closer to admire his handiwork.

“Oh, I agree with ya there.” He snarked and you rolled your eyes, distracting yourself with the flowers. “I can’t believe we’re getting married.” Your fiancé commented with his back turned, but when he faced you, he had a few tears on his face, too.

“Aww,” you thought that was one of the cutest sights you’d ever see, “come here.” You grasped the bouquet behind your back and pulled him into your kiss with one hand, treasuring this moment for all that it was worth. “Are we gonna tell the others?” You asked with a smirk.

“Not if you want to lose the game.” Druig joked with you, but in reality, you both wanted a very small ceremony. Just you, him, and whoever was to wed you. And that week felt like the longest of your life, you were so eager to be married to him, following the beautiful traditions of the locals as you did.

The wedding commenced and you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. Druig could say the same to you, whispering in your ear as soon as you stood beside him. “You look absolutely stunning.” You felt a little flustered by the compliment and poked him with your elbow. The ceremony was beautiful, you wouldn’t have had it any other way, but you felt the urge to kiss your lover the whole time. The man who wed you then presented a rock and a bowl of paint for the two of you, explaining that you’d both put a handprint on either side. “It was my idea,” Druig revealed, “I know how much you like your keepsakes.” That man was like no other, you couldn’t hide—wouldn’t dare hide your smile from him.

Then it was official, Druig was your husband and you were destined to spend your life with him. And do so privately, keeping your love a secret for you, not just for laughs. Craving his kisses when out on the battlefield, fighting the urge to close the gap while you trained, silently aching when you were apart, playfully flirting from across the room, sneaking around to share small acts of intimacy, or maybe some intimacy that’d take a little longer if you catch my drift.

You were still baffled that no one had caught onto you yet. But maybe you and Druig were just that good at keeping secrets. Or so you thought.

It was just a normal day, maybe a century or two later on. You and the Eternals sat together for breakfast like any other day. Your husband sat across from you and even offered to serve you food, scraping the contents of a bowl onto your plate. And then he noticed the handprint on the side of said bowl and laughed, turning it to you and forgetting to whisper, “Reminds me of our wedding, doesn’t it?” And you stared at him wide eyed as the rest of the Eternals froze in their tracks.

“Did I hear that correctly?” Kingo confronted and Druig looked at you, who was trying your best not to laugh.

“You loooose.” You taunted him and he shook his head in defeat. “You did hear that right, Kingo.”

“For how long?” Sersi asked purely out of interest. They couldn’t have been missing something like this for that long, or so they thought.

“About two hundred years.” Druig responded and they were all fighting the urge to lose their minds. Phastos had even begun the five stages of grief at the end of the table.

“Well, we’re happy for you two, even if you did keep it a secret from us.” Ajak commented, a bit passive aggressive, but genuinely nonetheless.

“Thank you, Ajak.” You reached for Druig’s hand and gripped it tight, knowing he’s probably a little embarrassed by losing. “It was actually a game of how long we could keep our relationship a secret, too.” You let the group know.

“And now I’m obligated to give y/n back rubs every day for the rest of our lives.” Druig revealed and you looked oh so pleased by this outcome. There were definitely a few snickers around the table.

“And if y/n lost?” Sprite inquired. “What was your prize?” You and Druig looked over at each other with the same coy looks, snickering to yourselves as you thought about the other outcome.

“I don’t think we want to know.” Gilgamesh cut in and reactions around the table still varied.

“You guys have been married for two hundred years?!” Phastos burst out. “How long were you together before that?” He questioned and you both answered.

“Maybe two hundred.” Your answer shocked him to his very core.

“How come you kept it a secret from us?” Thena entered the conversation and Druig decided to take this one.

“Because,” your husband started, “it’s nice to have some privacy. It was special to us, of course, but nothing’s changed. We just enjoyed the romance of sneaking around and such. Who’s to say we can’t now, though?” His explanation was perfect, and a few of the others even silently agreed. The rest were just shocked.

“Well, this has been fun…” You commented while beginning your dish and pretending as if nothing ever happened in the first place. “Anybody have fun plans for the day? I know I have a back rub scheduled for later on tonight.”

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @rorybutnotgilmore // @locke-writes // @sweetheartlizzie07 // @queen-destenie // @natasha-danvers // @johnmurphyisqueer // @teenwaywardasgardian // @pappydaddy // @captainshazamerica // @freya-xo // @ravenmoore14 // @canarypoint // @zoeyserpentluck // @randomawesomeperson102 // @brutal-out-here // @wonderful-writer // @of-a-chaotic-mind // @resplendentlady // @procrastinatingsapphictrash // @lxncelot // @swanimagines // @randomfandomimagine // @petersgroupie // @dindjarinsspouse // @werewolf-himbo // @lost-fantasy // @moobrvoobl-moobmoob-oobmpoobroom // @summersimmerus // @cipheress-to-k-pop // @augustvandyne // @buckyeojin // @the-did-i-ask // @glxwingrxse // @scarthefangirl //

#druig eternals x reader #druig eternals imagine #druig eternals #druig #druig x reader #druig imagine #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #eternals #eternals imagine #eternals x reader

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just-another-blog-of-fluff · 3 years ago

Text

Refuse to Lose

Word count: 12,800

Pairings: Loki x reader (pre-dating romantic), Wanda x Vision (romantic)

Warnings: HOLY HELL the sexual tension 🚨🚨🔥🔥 (but still nothing explicit)

OK, OK - this is my first time incorporating FOUR prompts (I think) in one fic, and it was a TON of fun to write this one!! And I'm super excited there was so much hype for this - I hope it lives up to your expectations 😊

I kind of took the prompts and ran with them... like... sprinted is more like it 😂😂 I hope this isn't too far off from what you lovely anons were looking for! The main difference versus the prompts is there's not a current secret relationship going on between reader and Loki (although there may as well be...) but I think I'll use that in another fic at some point because I love the idea! Pre-dating just felt right for this one!

A reminder of the prompts included:

Prompt - Loki knows he can fluster the reader with ease, and frequently exploits it. Reader is determined to get him back

Prompt - reader likes to fluster Loki with pick up lines in front of the others. He won’t be having that.

prompt where Loki notices reader can’t figure out what to do when others are talking about tickling

prompt with Vision and Wanda

And as promised, tagging @quillsandtypos 😊 (And also @writingfics-passingtime for helping me work through intermittent writer's block 💚)

"Ooh, hang on- stop channel surfing, I want to watch that!" Wanda grabbed hold of your outstretched wrist where you were holding the remote pointed at the television, snagging the device from your hand.

"Hey!"

"Oh, stop. It's not like you were going to pick anything to watch in the next ten minutes anyway," she tutted, flipping the channel back to her favorite show.

"Wanda, this is a rerun," you groaned.

"I don't care! It's such a good show!"

"No it's not!"

She shot you an appalled look. "What makes you think it's so terrible?!"

"It's completely overdramatized!" You gesticulated to the screen where one of the lead female characters was stammering like a fool while talking to some guy. "I mean, honestly!"

"Wh- no it isn't!"

You scoffed. "Wanda, honestly. You can watch this and tell me it's realistic? I mean, look at this girl! She's completely lost the ability to form a coherent thought, and the guy literally just said hi to her!"

"Pshh. You can't tell me that you've never gotten flustered over someone like that."

"Have you?" you retorted.

"Uh, yeah. Before Vision and I started dating." Her expression softened as she reminisced. "God, he was just so adorable."

"Well, maybe you have fallen victim to that sort of thing, but I haven't."

"Not once?" she asked skeptically.

"Not once."

"Oh, I seriously doubt that."

The baritone voice could only belong to a certain God of Mischief. Sure enough, you turned your head toward the sound to see a smirking Loki standing behind the sofa.

"Do you make it a habit to eavesdrop on other people's conversations?" you chastised.

"Not usually. But the pair of you aren't exactly quiet." You narrowed your eyes at his comment. "In any case - I don't believe you when you say you're immune to something that is engrained within your mortal nature."

"Is not!"

Loki chuckled. "Alright. Whatever you say." Without another word, he turned and left the room. Rolling your eyes, you turned to Wanda.

"He thinks he's a gift from the gods, I swear," you muttered. She smirked.

"Does he think that? Or do you?"

"Excuse me??"

Wanda shrugged, returning her attention to the television. "I'm just saying - he didn't say a word to suggest that you might get that way around him. You jumped to that conclusion."

"Oh-ho, I don't think so." Huffing, you stood from the sofa and left the room, leaving Wanda to watch the awful show she had insisted on.

The whole interaction did have you a bit rattled, though you'd never admit it to your friend. If anyone were capable of getting you worked up over nothing like that woman in the show - not that you were saying it was possible, but if it were - it was Loki. You weren't sure what to call your relationship with him, in all honesty. It seemed to vary based on the situation. You seemed to kind of flirt the line between friends and... well, more than friends. And the tension had really started to build over the last few months, like a shaken bottle of soda just waiting to explode the moment the cap untwisted.

You were on your guard for a couple weeks after that, expecting that at any moment Loki might try to do or say something to make you stutter. But when those weeks went by without so much as an attempt from the trickster, you started to think that maybe he'd just forgotten the whole conversation had ever happened. Or, maybe Wanda was right, and you were projecting your own feelings onto his reaction.

But you should have known better. Loki didn't forget, he only bided his time. And he loved an excuse to cause mischief.

The day you first fell into the crosshairs of his chaotic ways started fairly uneventfully. It was a Saturday morning, and you were making groggy conversation with Nat, Steve, and Bucky as the four of you lazily drank coffee at the small table in the kitchen. Eventually, the growling in your stomach was audible even to your friends over the sound of your idle chatter, and so you shuffled over to the fridge and began to prepare yourself some breakfast.

"Wait - are you making pancakes?" Bucky asked, a glazed look in his eyes as he observed you hopefully. You laughed at his lack of subtlety.

"Are you asking me to make some for you too?"

"Ooh, hang on, if he's getting some then I want some," Steve interjected. Rolling your eyes, you couldn't help but grin at their obvious love of your pancake prowess.

"Oh... alright. Nat, you want some too?" you asked.

"Hey - if you're offering, I'm not saying no," she replied.

"Fine, but you guys have to keep me company while I cook."

You busied yourself mixing the pancake batter and getting the pan heated on the stovetop. The three hungry Avengers waiting for you to finish at least kept their word and made conversation with you while you cooked. As you finished the first stack of pancakes, Bucky snuck up to the counter and snagged the plate, swapping it for an empty one and bringing the fresh pancakes to the table to eat them while they were still warm. The moment you noticed, you turned around and scolded the soldier, wagging the spatula at him threateningly.

"Bucky! You could at least wait until I'm finished making the pancakes before scarfing them down like some animal!"

"Did you say you're making pancakes?"

Thor's booming voice echoed from the doorway, drawing your attention. The first thing you noticed when you glanced over was not Thor, but his younger brother, who was standing beside him with his eyes fixed on you. It made your heart rate tick up ever so slightly to feel his gaze, as it often did. You never allowed your nervousness to show on your face, despite the fact that your crush on the tall, dark, and handsome Asgardian god only grew with the passage of time. Because unlike the woman in that show, you had some self control over your reactions.

You shot him a half grin, which he returned with one of his own, his eyes flashing in the way they always did when he smiled at you.

"Are you gonna ask me to make more for you?" you groaned at Thor, glancing at the dwindling bowl of pancake batter and trying to eyeball whether you had enough left to satiate the hulking God of Thunder's appetite. Unlikely, you thought.

"That would be wonderful!" Thor strode over to join Bucky, Steve and Nat, scooping up a fork from the table and stabbing the top pancake to steal for himself.

With a heaving sigh, you moved to the fridge to pull out more ingredients for another batch of pancake batter. Loki strolled over to you, a poorly disguised pleading look in his eyes. You narrowed yours, fighting the amused grin threatening to spread across your face in favor of trying to look annoyed.

"Do you want me to make you some too, Loki?" you groaned, pulling the carton of eggs out of the fridge.

"Would you? That would be wonderful, pet."

The egg carton slipped from your grasp and dropped to the floor with a crunch.

Loki 's eyebrows shot up his forehead, a smug smirk suddenly tugging at the corners of his mouth as your cheeks slowly began to grow warm. What had he just called you? And in front of four other people, no less?

The thought of the others led you to the realization that there was no longer casual chatter sounding from the table. Your gaze flitted over to the four hungry Avengers awaiting their breakfast, who were now staring at you in confusion having witnessed you drop half a dozen eggs on the floor. Clearing your throat awkwardly, you collected the fragments of your composure as you reached for the roll of paper towels.

"Sorry, slipped," you mumbled, turning your gaze to the floor as you stooped to wipe up the egg mess. You felt a slight breeze as Loki knelt down beside you, holding his hand out expectantly for the paper towels so he could assist.

"What was that?" he whispered, the tone of amusement evident even in his hushed voice. You glanced swiftly at the table, confirming the others had returned to their own conversation before whipping your head back to glare at the mischievous and maddeningly pleased-looking god.

"Loki! You can't do that in front of everyone!" you hissed.

"Do what?"

"You know what. Calling me that."

"Calling you my pet?"

You had to fight to withhold a flustered squeak. "YES."

"Why not?"

You knew based on the self-satisfied expression gracing his features that he knew exactly why not - he simply wanted to make you say it.

"It's... ugh just... just..."

"You're quite flustered." His smirk grew impossibly wider. You turned your gaze away from him because you simply couldn't keep looking at the damned smug look on his face anymore.

"I hate you." You wiped up the last of the egg yolk from the floor, tossing the paper towels into the messy egg carton.

"So if I can't do it 'in front of everyone,' does that mean I can call you that behind closed doors?"

You weren't sure your face could get any hotter.

"I'm done having this conversation." You scooped the egg carton off the floor, rising to your feet and ducking your head to hide your flushed face as you tossed the mess in the trash and returned to the fridge in search of more eggs.

You couldn't look at Loki the rest of the morning without thinking about the little nickname he'd chosen for you. And you knew without a doubt he'd be continuing to hold this ability to fluster you with a word over your head. You simply had to mentally prepare yourself before he tried again. Block it out of your mind.

It was only hours later when he tried again.

You were in the training room getting some target practice in with the throwing knives you'd been training with for the past couple of months. Loki had been the one to show you how to hold the hilt properly and how to release at the right time to send the blade sailing toward the target. It had only been an added bonus that he had to hold your hand and place his hands on your waist to help you position yourself correctly the first few times. It certainly wasn't the reason you'd decided to practice with the knives in the first place.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Loki hovering a few feet away as you prepared your stance to throw the first blade. With a steadying breath, you blocked out the buzz of the other Avengers completing their own workouts around the room, honing your focus on the target. With a skilled flick of your wrist, you sent the blade across the room, sinking it into the third ring from the center of the target.

"Very good, pet," Loki hummed, drawing your attention. Having noticed him observing you, you'd mentally prepared yourself this time for the nickname. With a smirk, you folded your arms haughtily across your chest.

"Thanks. One of these days I'll give you a run for your money."

Loki looked slightly disappointed at your lack of reaction, but you could see the gears turning in his head. He wasn't going to let it drop that easily.

As you continued to practice, Wanda came over to join you. Despite the fact that she vehemently denied it, you were convinced she used magic when she practiced with the throwing knives. Hers nearly always hit the dead center of the target.

"Why can't I ever get a bullseye?" you groaned in frustration after your last blade hit the second ring from the center. In all honesty, you'd forgotten Loki had been intermittently watching you practice, and so you were startled by the proximity of his voice in your ear.

"You'll just need to keep practicing, princess."

You were glad you didn't have any more knives in your hand because they'd have surely clattered to the floor. Perhaps that's why he waited until you'd thrown the last one to say it.

In any case, you were caught so off-guard by this even more flustering pet name that you felt your face catch fire. You whipped your head around to stare wide-eyed at Loki, trying to ignore the confused but entertained look on Wanda's face beside you. With a huff, you strode off to collect your knives from the target, mostly to give yourself an excuse to walk away.

"What's got you so flustered, princess?" Loki teased, following you toward the targets.

"Nope!" you called back to him, refusing to turn around.

"How am I to understand if you won't tell me?"

You grasped the hilt of one of your blades, tugging it free from the wooden target and shooting Loki a silent glare. Everything in you wanted to wipe that smug smirk off his face. He merely shrugged at you, leaning close and reaching over your shoulder to pull one of your other blades free from the target, holding it out toward you.

"Thank you, my prince," you sang with a grin. Loki chuckled, shaking his head.

"You'll have to try harder than that, princess."

With that, he sauntered on his way, leaving you standing there with two of your blades in your hands and your jaw hanging slightly agape. Oh, he was infuriating. But you were bound and determined to get him back. No way was he immune to blushing. You just had to tease out what flustered the God of Mischief.

Clearly it didn't bother him in the slightest when you called him a pet name with a sassy bite to your voice. You supposed that was understandable. Perhaps the key was in how you said it. It was certainly worth a try.

Your opportunity came that evening when you happened across Loki and Thor seated on the sofa playing some sort of card game you didn't recognize. From the surfaces of the few cards you could see from the doorway, it appeared it was a game from Asgard - they were adorned with a completely foreign language to you. In any case, the two of them seemed heavily invested in the game - so much so that you actually might stand a chance at sneaking up on the trickster, who prided himself on being impervious to surprises.

Silently, you crept up behind the sofa, hovering over the two brothers as they played cards from their hands, interlaced with shouts and gripes at one another. With the tiniest of smirks, you leaned close to Loki, gently brushing his hair away from his ear as you growled seductively.

"What are you up to, my prince?"

The effect was immediate. He stiffened, his mouth falling slightly open with his eyes wide. There was a dusting of pink coating his usually pale complexion that you doubted you'd ever seen there before. Regaining his composure slightly, Loki turned his head gradually to glower at you.

Meanwhile, Thor - who had clearly heard what you said - looked positively delighted and amused at his brother's reaction. His blue eyes lifted to meet yours, a huge grin on his face.

"Have I missed something? Are the two of you romantic partners?"

"Oh, no. I just discovered how very flustered our dear prince becomes when I call him such," you explained, winking at Loki before turning on your heel and waltzing proudly out of the room. The bewildered trickster god was left to come up with some further form of an explanation to his brother for what in Valhalla was going on between the two of you.

Take that, God of Mischief, you thought.

* * *

Loki had to admit - he was taken aback by the ease with which you managed to find a way to make him blush. He certainly expected you would try. Perhaps he had underestimated the degree of power you held over him.

But, if there was one thing he'd learned in this little game the two of you had unknowingly entered into, it was that he, too, held a significant advantage over you. And the God of Mischief does not back down from a challenge. He simply had to up his game a bit - find something that wiped the smirk right off your face and replaced it with a heated blush.

He began to do what he did best - observing you perceptively to determine what it was that could get under your skin. Those little nicknames he used on you still worked well enough if he caught you off guard, but he suspected he could do better. Not to mention, every time he managed to get you flustered with a cutesy name, you turned around and got your revenge within hours. You and your damned sultry voice in his ear, calling him your prince. Oh, if you knew what you were doing to him.

A week later he stumbled upon his answer.

The team had been drinking socially and hanging out in the tower lounge during a night of down time. Tony, of course, had reached a pleasant state of tipsiness that had him reminiscing about the past, back when ‘everything was simpler’ and ‘there were no boogey men coming to destroy the world.’ Loki rolled his eyes at that, remaining seated in his corner away from the others lest Tony decide to bring up his run in with the chitauri years ago.

Engrossed in his book, Loki missed a solid portion of the conversation going on amongst the slightly inebriated heroes. He did sneak a glance at you from time to time, not certain if he was more proud or disappointed that you had switched to drinking water after only a couple glasses. The part of him that cared for you respected that you were being the responsible one - after all, someone had to take care of Tony if he got completely sloshed, and given the fact that Thor had just begun passing around Asgardian mead to the more alcohol tolerant superhuman beings of the group, the possible candidates for the job were becoming limited. But his mischievous nature told him a tipsier you might have been easier to pull a blush out of.

Loki missed whatever sequence of events led up to what happened next, but suddenly Stark was setting up some sort of audio device with microphones and a holographic screen.

“Man, I haven’t done karaoke in years,” Stark lamented. He pointed over at Steve and Bucky. “You guys are gonna love it, just watch.”

Nat snorted at the idea. “I’m not so sure about that.”

“What, you don’t think I can sing?” Steve retorted. Nat held her hands up in defense.

“Hey, you’re welcome to prove me wrong.”

Steve snatched the microphone from Tony, grabbing Bucky by the arm and dragging the protesting super soldier to his feet. “Oh, we will. Don’t worry.”

If it weren’t for the infernal Midgardian music, the singing wouldn’t have been all that bad. The super soldiers were certainly not crooners, but they could at least hold a tune pretty well. Wanda and Vision admittedly sounded great together during a duet, and even Bruce, fueled by a bit of liquid courage, was a decent singer. Loki was disappointed to see you politely decline when Tony held the microphone out to you. He would have been quite curious to hear your singing voice.

“Brother!” Thor shouted, stomping over to where Loki sat. “Come! Sing with me!”

Loki rolled his eyes. “Why would I-”

“Oh come on, Thor. Loki can’t sing.”

It was your voice he heard, cutting him off mid sentence. His eyes darted to you, where you stood leaning against the back of one of the sofas looking somewhat amused by the idea. He was going to decline, tell Thor he wouldn’t be caught dead singing that Midgardian trash they call music, but now he wasn’t about to back down. You challenged him, and he was stepping up to it.

He rose to his feet, his eyes fixated on you as he slowly paced over to the group.

“Oh, can’t I?” he asked, smirking at you.

“I doubt it.”

Loki cleared his throat once, and then he began to sing an Asgardian hymn. It had a melody that was languid and melancholy, the lyrics alluding to a scorned lover pining for his beloved. Not that you could ever know that - you didn't speak a word of his native tongue.

When he'd begun to sing, his intention was to prove to you he could, given you seemed so convinced that he couldn't (or perhaps that he wouldn't). He kept his gaze firmly affixed on you as he sang the lyrics in his usual velvety rich baritone timbre. After only a moment, your expression began to twist before his eyes, color blossoming in your cheeks.

Interesting.

He'd never considered this before. Mortals had such an aversion to singing in front of others, which was not a sentiment shared by Asgardians. It had never occurred to him that you might become pleasantly flustered if he were to sing to you. For you. And yet, the nervous energy quelling in your chest was plainly evident on your face. Quite frankly, it was adorable.

When he'd finished his song, he shot you a knowing smirk while the others began chattering amongst themselves. He was pleased to see that the glare you shot him had much less malice behind it than usual, buried beneath the shy smile pulling at the corners of your mouth. He said nothing - merely winked before returning to his own seat.

Clearly he'd taken the lead once again.

It only fueled the fire in your belly to get back at him. Loki was deadly curious to know what lengths you would go to next to up the ante. Of course, he had his doubts that you'd find another way to get under his skin, but it was intriguing to see you try at the very least.

The only problem was, your method of revenge came completely by accident.

He hadn't even known you were still in the room, honestly. He was seated in his usual spot in the common room, reading and tolerating the company of the others just long enough so that Thor would get off his case about his lack of desire to socialize. Loki might not be actively participating in whatever discussion was going on, but he was physically present, and that was his method of compromise with his overzealous brother.

Someone suddenly tugged gently on the hair at the back of Loki's head where it hung close to his shoulders. His gaze whipped up from his novel the moment he felt it, turning in surprise to find you standing behind him with a piece of lint pinched between your thumb and forefinger. A seemingly benign gesture, and yet you had a startled look on your face.

"Loki - holy hell, how is your hair that soft??" you exclaimed, loudly enough to turn heads in your direction. Before he could consider responding, you had begun running your fingers through his hair, your fingers brushing against the back of his neck.

It had been literal centuries since anyone had touched Loki's hair. So long, in fact, that he couldn't remember the last person who had. Likely his mother, he suspected. But the simple, gentle threading of your fingers through his dark locks sent a wave of chills down his spine. He was trapped between the complete shell shock that you would even consider touching his hair and the innate desire to melt back into his chair in contented bliss.

And you - you damned perceptive mortal - you noticed.

"I've gotta say, Loki - I'm actually kind of jealous," you continued, a sudden teasing edge to your tone as you continued to twirl his hair around your fingers. "Maybe one of these days you'll need to share your hair care regimen with me. Or is that a well-kept secret?"

"Hmmph." Gods you had him unfathomably flustered, his silver tongue tied in a knot weighing heavy in his throat while he tried desperately to come up with a coherent thought. The moment he managed to collect a sentence-worth of words in his mind, they were completely scattered as your fingers brushed against the hair just behind his ear, eliciting a visible shiver.

"Wow. She managed to silence him," Barton observed in shock from across the room.

"If I'd known that was all it took, I'd have tried it myself," Stark quipped.

With that, Loki finally snapped out of the hypnotic trance you'd had him under, rising swiftly to his feet and whirling around to look at you. The grin on your face appeared so innocent, and yet your eyes told a different story. They sparkled with the amusement of seeing that dusting of color that was surely adorning his heated cheeks at that moment. Holding up one finger, he opened his mouth to say something, quickly closing it again when he realized he had no words queued up in his throat. Instead, he swiped his book up off the arm of the chair, striding regally out of the room in a failed attempt to try to appear less flustered than he actually was.

Oh... she may have won the battle, but she's yet to win the war, he thought to himself, as he sought refuge in his own room.

* * *

Loki left you alone for days after that incident.

You weren't daft enough to believe he'd given up. If there was one thing you'd learned about your mischievous friend, it was that he refused to lose. It was more likely that he was, yet again, biding his time until he could come up with something that would completely set your face on fire.

Meanwhile, you continued brainstorming, yourself. The only way to beat Loki was going to be to find something that absolutely floored him. It had to be something so overwhelmingly flustering that he wouldn't dare to try to fight back for fear of a repeat incident. You were probably just as stubborn as he was. No way were you losing this little game without a fight.

What happened next made you reconsider your resiliency.

You'd woken up a couple hours earlier than usual that morning. Bucky had been hounding you for weeks about going for an early morning run with him, and you'd finally promised the night before that you'd go the next day, just to get him to stop asking. You knew he meant well - he was just trying to be a good mentor, getting you to step out of your comfort zone and work at things you weren't good at. And running... well, that was definitely not your strong suit. It made sense for you to train with him - you just wished it weren't so damned early in the morning.

Groggily, you threw on a tank top and a set of jogging pants, draping your sweatshirt over your shoulder and lacing up your sneakers. You threw your hair up in a messy pony tail high on your head just to keep it off your neck when you inevitably began to sweat bullets. Slipping in your headphones, you began sleepily scrolling through the music on your phone as you exited your bedroom and shut the door behind you, gazing at the screen as you began to pace down the hallway.

You didn't make it very far.

Barely one step, and you collided with something... someone... very solid. Your eyes flitted up from your phone screen as slurred apologies started to spill from your lips, until you realized who was standing in front of you.

Of course it was Loki. Normally you'd have started making a snide comment about the fact that he should watch where he was going, but your grumblings were cut off by your own flustered squeak of surprise as the sight of Loki wearing nothing but a towel around his hips registered in your sleep-deprived brain.

"Loki!" you squealed, throwing your hands up to cover your eyes.

"Yes?" His tone was even, calm, as though this were a totally normal thing for you to be seeing.

"W-why... what..." You couldn't help but peer at him through your fingers, your curiosity beating out your mortified embarrassment.

Gods, have mercy.

You weren't certain you'd even seen him wearing short sleeves before. It was only natural that the sight of his toned bare chest set alarm bells off in your brain. He wasn't the brawniest of beings, but it suited you just fine - those rippling abdominal muscles were more than enough.

"You're staring."

The teasing tone of his voice brought back your flustered agitation. Your hands dropped from your face, a scowl forming on your features as you took the slightest step backward.

"You... you... ugh. Loki, this is low even for you!" you hissed, glancing around frantically to make sure no one else was wandering about this early in the morning. His eyebrows shot up his forehead.

"You think I ran into you like this on purpose?"

"Oh, don't you try to tell me otherwise, you liar! Gods, Loki..." You slid your fingers over your hair to try to calm yourself, unable to avert your eyes from the scene in front of you. "Don't you think standing outside my door nearly nude is a bit too much?"

"I wasn't trying to get back at you," he insisted. "My shower is broken, Stark told me it would be three days before he could get it fixed, and I decided to use Thor's."

"So you wander around almost naked in the hallway afterward??"

"I wasn't aware anyone else would be up at this hour." A smirk crossed his lips. "And you seem to be quite focused on the amount of clothing I have on."

"Ugh! Loki, you ass!" you hissed, swatting at him and realizing too late that you were striking his bare chest. You pulled your hand back to your body as if you'd burned it, blazing heat rising in your cheeks. This only served to fuel Loki's mischievous mood.

"You appear flustered, princess." He took a step toward you, and you took a matching step backward toward your room. "Why might that be?"

"Loki..."

"Are you simply not accustomed to seeing this much of a god?" he continued, gesturing to his bare torso as he stepped even closer. You'd forgotten you shut your bedroom door until your back met the wood, heart beating rapidly in your chest as Loki trapped you against the door. He placed one palm against the wall beside the doorframe on one side, leaning in closer while his other hand held tight to the towel to keep it from falling from his hips.

"I..."

"I understand, darling. It can be overwhelming."

He stepped back, removing his hand from the wall and shooting you a seductive wink before heading on his way to his room. You stood motionless against the door for a moment, waiting for the buzzing in your ears to vanish.

And you most definitely didn't watch his bare, muscle-clad back as he retreated down the hallway.

“Did you do a warmup workout or something?” Bucky asked as you arrived in the lobby of the tower to meet him ten minutes late. “You look sweaty already.”

“Shut up and let’s go,” you mumbled, striding past him to walk out the door. You were not about to explain to him what just happened.

The image of Loki half-nude was hot-ironed in your brain for the entire run. Luckily, Bucky wasn’t much of a talker while he exercised, so you didn’t have to fumble through idle small talk while trying to rid yourself of the image. The one benefit, you supposed, was that you weren’t focused on the burning in your lungs as you ran through the city.

When you returned home, you had finally managed to quell the intense embarrassment in your mind. You headed to the kitchen with Bucky to grab a bite of breakfast, stopping short in the doorway when your gaze met Loki’s where he sat at the table drinking tea. Fully clothed, at least.

“Good morning,” he hummed, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips as the internal turmoil in your brain began to manifest on your face. That image that you’d worked so hard to file away in the back of your mind (because lord knew you weren’t going to forget it completely anytime soon) popped right back up in your head as Loki shot you a wink across the room.

Without thinking much about what Bucky might think, you spun on your heel and walked right back out without a word. You needed a cold shower more than you needed breakfast right now.

It was a solid week before you could be in the same room as the trickster god without completely losing your cool. He reveled in the fact that he could make your face burn and your heart race with just a look from across the room. There was no need to say anything - he knew you were thinking about exactly what he wanted you to think.

This whole back-and-forth between you and the God of Mischief was starting to become rather heated. Granted, a part of you deep down felt privileged to have seen his impressive physique that he normally kept hidden under layers of leather armor. But damn him for making a scene out of teasing you for your obvious appreciation for the view.

No question about it - you simply had to step up your game.

Which is how you found yourself willingly watching that cursed show Wanda loved so much, pretending to be giving it a shot but in reality simply seeking pointers for how you might be able to fluster your impish opponent into oblivion.

As much as you hated this show, you had to admit it was giving you an excuse to ask Wanda for advice without actually asking her. You just had to complain about the show enough to argue her points with you. For example, in this particular episode, Maria, the lead female character, was flirting shamelessly with Daniel ("hot guy," as Wanda referred to him) in the break room of the office they worked in together. It was no secret they had a thing for each other, but Daniel was unwilling to admit it and Maria was sick of waiting. So, she took it upon herself to try to force his hand.

"Honestly, Wanda - do you think someone could get a guy that nervous just by touching the side of their head?" you groaned.

"You say it like she's just patting his head like a dog," she retorted. "In my experience, the placement is key. Vis is a sucker for when I brush my fingers along the skin behind his ear."

You glanced at her in surprise. "Really? I didn't realize he could even feel it."

"He's a very sophisticated android," she boasted with a grin. "Anyway, if you're trying to prove your theory that this show is overdramatic, you're going to have to keep trying. I could easily drag Vision in here and prove it to you."

"No way! He'll do whatever you tell him to do. That's basically cheating."

As if on cue, Loki suddenly appeared in the common room, seemingly planning to cut through to the opposite hallway. You made a split second decision and leapt to your feet.

"Loki! Come here for a second." Your fingers closed around his forearm as he walked past, startling him.

"What-"

"Wanda and I need to settle something, and we need your help."

Loki's head tilted in bewildered confusion at your sudden willingness - and not only that, but your sudden desire - to get his attention. You'd spent the last week and a half avoiding him almost entirely, waiting for him to become bored with shooting you subtle winks across the room in an effort to remind you of the hallway incident. Surely he would deduce quickly that you had a trick planned for him. You had to act fast.

You reached out and grasped his other forearm, positioning him directly in front of you with a gentle twisting motion.

“Wanda thinks guys get worked up about this, but I disagree.”

His brows lifted from his eyes. “About what, exactly?”

“This.” You lifted your hand and slid it up along the side of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair, thumb resting just along the tip of his ear. For good measure, you stepped closer so your body was only inches from his, tilting your chin upward to gaze into his eyes.

Oh, it worked like a charm.

You heard Loki’s breath hitch in his chest, his eyes widening almost imperceptibly. For a moment, his gaze flitted down to your lips. That lovely rosy shade graced his pale cheekbones as his own lips parted slightly. Possibly trying to come up with something to say. Or, perhaps he was considering the real possibility of actually kissing you.

In any case, you smirked up at him and pulled away, your eyes still locked on his as you took a step back.

"Alright, I'll give you that one, Wanda. It works."

The range of emotions that passed over Loki's face in a matter of seconds was astounding. His mouth curled into a somewhat disappointed-looking frown, his brow furrowed. Quickly, that dark brow of his became heavier as a scowl clouded his features. Almost as swiftly as it had appeared, it was replaced once again by a sly, cunning smirk that made your stomach flip.

"Perhaps," he hummed. "But, I would argue there are better ways to drive someone mad with desire."

"I-"

"Quite simple, really." He stepped closer, closing the distance you'd put between the pair of you, as his hand raised to brush along the skin under your jaw, coming to rest just below your ear. "To touch a lover with one hand along the jaw, around the ear, behind the neck, is innocent. But, add a second point of control..." His free hand suddenly gripped your waist, fingers wrapping around to the small of your back to tug your hips closer to himself, nearly making you squeak in surprise. "... and you'll find that you can assert a sense of power over them."

You could slice the tension between you with a knife as he leaned his head down closer, pausing just inches away from your own face. Your tongue slid out subconsciously to wet your lips, and you found yourself transfixed on the kaleidoscopic blue-green eyes in front of you. Those soft-looking lips of his curled up into a self-assured smirk, and he suddenly ducked down so his mouth was directly beside your ear.

"Two can play at this game, princess."

Leaning back, his hands fell from your waist and your jaw to his sides before backing away from you. The sense of loss you felt without his touch was both startling and devastating. And, worst of all, you knew he knew what he'd done to you. Not just because you could light a match right now if you touched it to your cheek, but because his eyes danced with mischievous pride.

"What are your thoughts, Maximoff?" he asked, adding insult to injury by engaging your friend in this tête-à-tête.

"I mean, both seemed pretty effective... either way, I feel like I win," she responded with a grin. Loki rolled his eyes.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I was in the middle of something before you so rudely interrupted." He turned and continued on his way, leaving you standing there like a statue etched in marble, unmoving.

"I still think it's you that believes he's a gift from the gods," she teased, nudging you with her elbow as she returned to her seat on the sofa. "You still gonna watch the show with me?"

Grunting in frustration, you plunked yourself down on the sofa beside Wanda. There was no trying to pay attention to the terrible show now that your mind had wandered elsewhere.

* * *

Despite the fact that Loki had gotten the last laugh, he was still irked by your most recent ploy to get under his skin.

No mortal had succeeded in making him feel the way you did. Making him freeze up like that, and in front of another mortal, no less. You were getting dangerously close to realizing the degree of power you held over him, and he couldn’t allow it.

He had to find a way to claim victory in this little blushing war once and for all.

Loki observed you closely over the following days, seeking out any sort of behavior that might lead him to discover your weakness. Surely there was something that he could tease out about you that would suffice as leverage to end this little charade. He just had to determine what it was.

It was a few nights later that he learned of your ultimate weakness.

That evening, there were no specific plans to gather together as a team, but many of the tower inhabitants were lazing in the common room involved in various conversations or activities. Loki, as usual, kept to himself with a novel spread open in his hands, although he wasn’t really paying much attention to it. It was merely a ruse, a decoy to make himself look busy while he observed you making casual conversation with Clint and Vision.

A heavy sigh drew the attention of the room as Wanda entered. The witch looked exhausted as she shuffled in and sat down on the sofa next to Vision, leaning on his shoulder. He slid his arm around her, pulling her gently into his side.

"What's the matter, dear?" he asked gently.

"I made the mistake of asking Nat to train with me today," she groaned. A chorus of 'ah' and 'ouch' filled the room after that. The team was well acquainted with Nat's training style. Lacking superhuman powers, she more than made up for it with her dedication and hard work. Even some of the guys on the team had trouble keeping up with her during her workouts.

"See, now, I stopped making that mistake years ago," Clint noted, grimacing at the memory. "It was well worth the months of teasing after I told her no more workouts together."

"Might be a little more spry if you stuck with it though, Legolas," Tony quipped, earning a glare from the archer.

"No, I can see where he's coming from after today... My back is already aching, and it's only been an hour since we finished." Wanda reached behind her and grasped what must have been a sore spot on her back.

"Would it help if I gave you a massage, darling?" Vision asked. Her eyes lit up.

"Would you? That would be amazing."

Most of the others in the room had gone back to their own conversations by this point. Loki had ultimately returned to reading when he realized he wasn’t getting anything of use from your interactions, though he had the ability to observe and listen while he simultaneously skimmed the pages of his book. He noted that your attention was divided between watching Thor, Peter, Tony, and Bruce playing some video game on the television (rather rambunctiously, of course) and glancing at Wanda and Vision as he kneaded the tension from her shoulders. He couldn't be certain, but he thought maybe he detected a hint of jealousy in your expression. It had been quite some time since he'd seen you interact with anyone physically in such a manner... come to think of it, he'd never actually seen you allowing someone to rub your back like Vision was doing for Wanda at this moment. Perhaps that would be the key to getting you back, but he would need to observe a bit longer first.

Vision's hands slid lower down to massage the muscles in Wanda's lower back. She suddenly made an odd squeaking sound, arching forward away from his touch.

"Did I hurt you, darling?"

"No..." Wanda suddenly appeared sheepish. "You just tickled me, is all."

"I see. Are you feeling better?" Vision asked.

"Much better, thank you."

"I'm glad to hear it." A small smirk formed on Vision's face, just before he started kneading his fingers into Wanda's sides where his hands rested. Wanda burst into giggles, squirming as he tickled her more intentionally.

"Vis! Wh-whahat are you dohoing?"

"As I understand it, the appropriate response when someone tells you they are ticklish is to try to tickle them," he explained casually.

"Who-haha-whoho told you thahat??"

"Mr. Stark, of course."

Wanda shot Tony a look, which he only barely acknowledged as he briefly glanced up from his game and shrugged.

"You can't tell me I'm wrong," Tony called from his seat across the room. Wanda groaned.

"I quite enjoy listening to you laugh," Vision stated, his hands crawling up her ribs as her giggles increased in volume. "I suppose I should have tried this sooner."

"Noho, I don't thihink so - VIS dohon't you dahare!!" Wanda moved to stand as Vision attempted to slip his fingers under her arms, but he caught her around the waist and pulled her back down onto the sofa beside him, trapping her against his chest.

"Now I have to, Wanda dear - I'm far too curious." There was a teasing air to his tone, which was quite unusual coming from the usually serious android. Holding her close, he slotted his hands up under her arms quite easily and wriggled his fingers into the spaces, throwing her into hysterics.

At this point, Loki finally glanced up from the pages of his book, hearing the sudden loud burst of laughter from across the room. His eyes strayed from Vision and Wanda over to where you sat in a nearby armchair. He was more than a bit surprised to see that your face had changed color completely, and you appeared to be fidgeting in your seat as you stared at the scene unfolding in front of you. Notably, your arms were stiff and pressed tightly to your sides, and you were somewhat curled into yourself as though trying to protect your own vulnerable areas.

What an interesting observation this was.

Wanda had stopped protesting, having succumbed to her own laughter. Vision must have recognized she was tiring, as he eased up and eventually stopped tickling her in favor of holding her close while she caught her breath.

"You... I... ugh. Damn you for being so innocent," she groaned, leaning her head back against Vision's shoulder. He leaned forward so he could catch her attention, pressing his lips to hers when she turned to look at him.

"Now, it's not really fair that you're an android and she's a human - clearly she's never going to be able to get you back," Clint griped in Wanda's defense. "Last I checked, robots aren't ticklish."

"Yes, this is true. However, Wanda does tease me quite often about other things. I am still learning quite a bit about everyday human life," he countered logically.

"Yeah, it doesn't have to go both ways, Katniss Everdeen," Tony called, having finished the current round of their game. "Just because she can't tickle him doesn't mean he can't tickle her."

"How is that fair??" Peter demanded.

"Oh, you're only on her side because you're ticklish too, kid," Tony argued, poking Peter's side.

"Hehey! Mr. Stark!"

As the team continued to banter about the subject, Loki kept subtly glancing at you to assess your reaction. It seemed that even conversing about tickling was making you squirm in your seat, the corner of your mouth twitching upward every so often as you obviously fought back a grin. Notably, you were silent throughout the entirety of the conversation. Normally, you would interject frequently in these team arguments, but it seemed you were biting your tongue in this case.

Oh, this was absolute gold.

Eventually, the conversation progressed to another topic, and you visibly relaxed in your seat. Suddenly, Loki noted you were much more willing to participate in the discussion. That confirmed his suspicions: you were exceedingly flustered by even the mention of tickling. He could only imagine how flustered you'd be if he threatened to tickle you in front of the others.

He left you alone that evening, mulling over the best method of approach. It would be best if he caught you unawares - you didn’t seem to have noticed his watching you, and so you likely had no idea that he had come to this conclusion. Perhaps he would file this fantastic little piece of information about you into the back of his mind, ready to pull it out the next time you attempted to fluster him. It was only a matter of time, after all.

The opportunity fell into his lap - quite literally - a few days later.

Stark had just recently renovated the recreation room to add a fancy table and plush chairs for board games or card games. He was hoping to play a game of poker, but Peter asked to join and Stark insisted the kid was too young to be gambling despite his protests. So instead, he allowed Peter to choose a game. By this point, Thor had already roped Loki into playing, and so he had no opportunity to back out when Peter decided to play Monopoly, of all things.

This was going to be a long evening.

Seven people joined in, but only six chairs were present. Wanda simply took a seat in Vision’s lap, offering to play as a team. Peter began laying out the board and passing out the money to get ready to start the game.

“Room for one more?”

Loki turned to find you standing in the doorway. Stark responded to you before anyone else could.

“Good luck finding a seat.”

“Tony! Why would you only get six chairs? There’s more than double that many people living in the tower.”

“Hey! It’s a work in progress, alright? Besides, I didn’t anticipate playing team Monopoly in here with more than six players,” he retorted, rolling his eyes.

Your eyes fell on Wanda, seated comfortably in Vision’s lap, then skimmed along the table until your gaze rested on Loki. A flash of mischief sparked in your eyes, which normally would make him proud to see he was succeeding in corrupting you with his ways, but he was well aware that mischievous smirk was directed at him.

Sure enough, you strode into the room, heading directly to where Loki sat and parking yourself unceremoniously in his lap.

“It’s alright. I’ll just play on Loki’s team.”

Eyebrows raised around the table, but no one said a word. Despite that Loki had anticipated this the moment you walked in, he couldn’t help but feel a bit sheepish with you seated on top of him. You damned, cunning mortal, knowing exactly how to get to him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he muttered in your ear. You turned your head to look at him, your face unnervingly close to his.

“I needed a seat. This was the best I could do.”

He didn’t bother with a retort, as Thor started the game with a roll of the dice. Participants chattered animatedly between their turns as they sipped their adult beverages (except Peter, of course, who was perfectly content with his soda). Even you participated casually in conversation with the others, as if it was having absolutely no effect on you whatsoever that you were seated on the God of Mischief's thighs. He had no idea what to do with his hands, so they rested beside his legs against the seat of the chair in the narrow space available on each side. Each time he thought he was getting past the flustering feeling of having you seated in his lap, you shifted your weight a bit, or turned and shot him a sly look out of the corner of your eye, and a fresh wave of heat rose in his face.

"Vis!"

Suddenly, across the table, Wanda had begun giggling and squirming in Vision's arms as he skittered his fingers along her sides. It was unclear what provoked the android - perhaps he simply wanted to hear her laugh - but in any case there she was, half-heartedly shoving at his hands as they crawled up her ribs.

And you immediately stiffened.

What wonderful timing this is, Loki thought to himself. He had you trapped, and it was all your own doing. You had nowhere else to sit unless you wanted to perch yourself on someone else's lap, and you had declared that you were on Loki's 'team' from the start of the game anyhow. If you got up now, you'd cause a scene.

He was definitely going to have his fun with this.

Leaning forward slightly, he began to whisper in a low voice in your ear, quietly enough that no one else could hear him speak.

"What's the matter, darling?"

You said nothing, simply turning your head to glance at him with what you probably hoped was a casually curious look on your face, but instead appeared more like a grimace. He tilted his head, urging you silently to provide an explanation without context for his question.

"Yo - mischief and mayhem - you're up," Tony urged, prompting you to whip your head back around to look at him. Loki was silent as you took the dice and made your roll, landing on a property that Clint already owned and handing over your fee without saying much of anything. In the meantime, Vision had stopped tickling Wanda, but she continued to squeak at random intervals when he'd poke or pinch her side teasingly. One particular poke to her lower ribs made you actually squirm a bit, which you tried unsuccessfully to disguise as shifting yourself to become more comfortable as you passed off the dice to Thor on your left.

"Something seems to be bothering you," Loki continued in your ear, making you stiffen the moment you heard his voice. "I might even go as far as to say... flustering you."

You turned enough to look at him, your own voice in a low whisper. "I don't know what you're talking about."

At that same moment, Wanda began giggling once again for a brief moment, and you swiftly rotated your head back to witness Vision scribbling at her belly. Loki took advantage of your renewed flustered state to lean a bit closer to your ear.

"I'm not a fool, darling. I know exactly what's got you blushing."

Again, your head swiveled to look at the god you'd chosen as your seat, but this time your eyes were ever so slightly wider than they normally appeared. He allowed a devilish smirk to spread across his face, knowing it would only serve to unnerve you.

"You do not."

Loki shrugged. "Believe what you want, princess."

Slowly, your head turned back to face the rest of the table. The tension you were feeling was plainly obvious - you were sitting as though a metal rod had been threaded through your spine, and your shoulders were pinned back and squared stiffly below your ears. Chuckling to himself, he decided to drop the bomb on you at last.

"You're ticklish, aren't you?"

If it were even possible, your muscles became more rigid at his confirmation that he knew exactly what was getting to you. Subtly, your arms moved to rest closer to your sides protectively. Notably, you didn't turn around to look at him this time.

"It's obvious, really," he continued, undeterred by the fact that you were no longer responding to him. "I suspected it the other day, when Vision learned of Wanda's ticklishness and decided to exploit it." He wasn't even touching you, and yet each time he said the word, you shifted a bit in your seat atop his lap. "You were acting exactly like this. Stiff as a board, arms lowered to cover your vulnerable spots, unwilling smile tugging at your lips." Loki let out a low, ominous laugh from deep in his throat. "Based on all of this, I've deduced you must be devastatingly ticklish. And the thought of someone exploiting it is making you incredibly flustered, isn't it?"

You were pointedly ignoring him now, taking a long sip of your wine and refusing not to respond to his teasing. It only egged him on further, knowing he was getting to you. If he'd provoked you into giving him the silent treatment already, he'd have you a blushing mess by the end of the evening.

By this point, the dice had been passed back around, and you silently took your turn. A quick purchase of a railroad, and the dice were passed on to Thor. Still, you remained facing forward, carefully avoiding leaning back against his chest with your arms pinned at your sides.

"You can't ignore me forever, darling," he hummed, slipping his hand up underneath the loose hooded sweatshirt you had chosen to wear this evening and resting his hand against your side just above your hip. The moment his hand made contact with the thin T-shirt you wore beneath your sweatshirt, your own hand shot down and grabbed hold of his through the heavier fabric of your outerwear. "Now, now, darling. You wouldn't want to cause a scene, would you?"

"You're the one causing a scene," you hissed, your head pivoting to give him the side-eye.

"Might I remind you that you selected your own seat. Regretting it now, I'm certain."

Huffing through your nose, you turned to look at the others. He could sense what was going through your mind at this moment. You were weighing your options - trying to decide if creating a scene now about finding another chair to sit in (likely from another room in the tower at this point) was worth the avoidance of the inevitable torment Loki was about to inflict upon you. You were stuck between a rock and a hard place. No matter what choice you made, there would be a scene. Unless, of course, you managed to contain your reactions.

With a nearly inaudible sigh, you adjusted yourself to sit more comfortably, leaning back a bit against Loki's chest and resigning yourself to your fate. Chuckling, he lifted some of the weight from his hand at your waist, still hidden from view of the others under your sweatshirt.

"Let's test my theory then, shall we?"

The gasp that came from your chest when he pinched at your side ever so gently was, fortunately for you, buried by the annoyed groaning of Peter as he landed on Thor's property.

"It seems I was correct. Devastatingly ticklish."

The dice were passed on to Wanda, who rolled for her turn as Loki began gently kneading into the pliant skin of your side where his hand rested. It amused him, the way your muscles tensed under his ticklish touch almost immediately, and yet you refused to turn around and scold him for fear of the others figuring out what was going on. You couldn't squirm, you couldn't laugh... you couldn't even allow the sensation to affect your facial expression if you truly wanted to keep this a secret.

Loki gave you a reprieve when the dice were passed over to you for your turn. You nearly missed the fact that Tony was holding them out for you to take, despite the fact that you were staring straight at his hand. Loki laughed under his breath, and you reached down with your free hand and pinched a small spot on his knee to let him know you didn't appreciate his laughing at you. In retaliation, he slid his hand down just a bit to scratch at your hip as you shook the dice in your hand. You threw them down against the board with more force than necessary, arching the slightest bit sideways away from his tickling fingers.

"Wow. Not even losing and you're being a sore loser already?" Tony quipped.

"N-no, it's not th- ahem - it's not that." It was clearly straining you to withhold your laughter, one of your hands dropping down to squeeze his hand through your sweatshirt in a feeble attempt to make him stop while you quickly moved your piece the allotted number of spaces on the dice. Your sigh of relief was audible this time when you landed on your own property, handing the dice off to Thor.

"You seem twitchy, there, mayhem. You alright?"

"Yep! Just- er, trying to d-decide if I want to get up and get another drink."

Loki was finding this quite entertaining, keeping you guessing by allowing his fingers to still against your T-shirt before suddenly starting up again, squeezing his way agonizingly slowly up your side toward your lower ribs. The moment his fingers reached the solid bone at the bottom of your ribcage, you suddenly slid off his lap and announced that you were going to refill your wine glass, scurrying out of the room.

"Er... she forgot her glass," Peter observed with a puzzled look. Grinning, Loki picked it up off the table and rose to his feet.

"She's rather frazzled tonight, I'm afraid. I'll bring it to her." With that, he stepped out of the room and followed the path you'd taken down the hall to the lounge.

He found you standing there alone, your fingers laced through your hair atop your head as you released a slow breath, your brightly colored cheeks puffed out. The moment you became aware of his presence, you shot him a frantic, wide-eyed glare.

"Loki!" you hissed, slamming your hands down onto your hips in an attempt to look condescending. "You absolute scoundrel!! What the hell?!"

"What's the matter, princess? Can't handle being flustered like this?" With a smirk, he added, "By the way - you forgot this."

You scowled, stepping forward to swipe the wine glass from his hand. "I'm finding another place to sit when we go back in there."

"Oh, but that would be a poor decision. The others would wonder why you suddenly want your own seat. After all, you were quite content with stealing my lap without asking."

With a groan, you stepped over to the bar, ripping the cork out of the half-emptied wine bottle sitting on the countertop. "What is it going to take for me to get you to stop?"

"Admit to me that I've won this little game. That I've succeeded in flustering you more than you ever could dream of flustering me in return. And then cease your attempts."

"No way!" you exclaimed, tilting the wine bottle over your glass to fill it with the burgundy-colored liquid. "You haven't won this yet!"

"Then I'm afraid I can't promise you anything." His smirk broadened as he observed your face cloud over with frustration. "It would be simple to just admit defeat. Though, perhaps you're enjoying this more than you're letting on."

"Wh- what?? I- I don't-"

"Save it, darling. I won't believe a word anyway." With that, he turned and began walking back to the recreation room. Once he reached the doorway, he called over his shoulder to you, "Don't take too much longer. The others are already wondering what's gotten into you this evening."

He could feel the stinging burn of your glare as he left the room.

When you'd returned with your full glass a few moments later, you hesitantly stepped over to stand beside the table, placing your glass on the surface. You made no move to sit down in Loki's lap again. He looked up at you with a sickly sweet smile, holding out an arm to offer you space to sit down.

"I'm going to stand for a bit," you mumbled.

"No need to be shy, darling - you've been sitting on me this entire evening." Without waiting for you to move, he reached up and grasped your hips, tugging to bring you crashing down into his lap once again with a squeak.

"You ass," you whispered, reluctantly shifting to face forward as you had been before.

"I offered you an out. You chose not to take it." He grinned. "You must know there are consequences. Or, perhaps you were hoping there would be?”

You couldn’t respond without drawing the other’s attention, as it was your turn once again. As quickly as possible, you rolled and moved your piece before sliding the dice over to Thor, folding your arms across your belly and trying to appear nonchalant despite your obvious frantic desire to be done with your turn. With a snicker, Loki slipped his hand up beneath your sweatshirt once again, the contact making you flinch and then relax a bit when you realized he wasn't tickling you yet. He allowed his hand to slide slowly up toward your ribs, reveling in the obvious nervous energy radiating off of you as his palm glided up your side.

"Suppose I seek out your weakest spot and exploit it... right... here," he breathed in your ear, scratching lightly along your lowest rib with just two fingers. You folded sideways the slightest bit in reaction to his touch, stopping yourself with obvious difficulty and straightening your back. While Loki couldn't see your face, he could see the subtle twitch of your jaw as you grappled with your internal instinct to react. "I wonder how long it would take to break your resolve once I find it. I'm sure the others would find it quite entertaining, watching me tickle you senseless."

"You're up again, mayhem," Stark sang, passing you the dice. The startled jerk of your head told Loki you again weren't paying any attention to the game, taking the dice and rolling for your turn. Cautious not to lift your arm too far from your side, you picked up your piece to move around the board. Still, Loki took advantage of the sudden reduction in protection of your ribs, spidering his fingers up to the middle of your ribcage beneath your sweatshirt. He felt your ribs expand outward as you sucked in a sharp breath, quickly moving your piece to the designated space and lowering your arm to your side as casually as you could muster.

"You passed go! Aren't you going to grab your two hundred dollars?" Peter asked excitedly.

"Yes, darling - don't leave money on the table, now. Go on and take the two hundred dollars," Loki concurred, eyeing the bank money sitting across the table. Your hand wrapped around his knee and squeezed harshly, acutely aware of what he was plotting. A few rapid squeezes to your ribcage were enough to let you know he wasn't backing down on this.

And you, you clever little minx, you reached out with your other hand to grab the money, keeping the arm that was blocking his access to your upper ribs firmly pressed to your side.

Oh, he wasn't having that.

While the others were distracted with their own conversations and with watching Thor take his turn, Loki swiftly slid his other hand up beneath your sweatshirt on the other side, bracing his thumb against your shoulder blade while his four fingers tickled the soft skin beneath your arm just below the hem of your short sleeve. There was a clearly audible squeak this time as your arm clamped down to your side, your Monopoly money crumpled in your fist. The squirming you'd done so well to hide was beginning to overcome you as you reacted to his fingers still wriggling into your underarm.

"Ah... might I have found it?" Loki whispered teasingly. You were starting to actually tremble with the effort of withholding your laughter. The small part of your face that Loki could see was vivid, the corner of your mouth twitching upward of its own accord. "This must be unbearable, darling. I have you completely at my mercy, and there's nothing you can do but submit to it." He punctuated his taunt by sliding his other hand around to your belly, scratching firmly with all five fingers just above your waistline. Whether it was this spot or the combination of the two that broke you, he wasn't certain, but you suddenly broke out in a desperate stream of giggles.

"What's so funny?" Thor asked quizzically.

"H-he... ahah... he tohold me a johoke!" you fibbed, doubling over as he increased the pressure of his scratching at your belly.

"Mm, yes, it was hilarious," Loki stated sarcastically, pausing his tickling fingers under your arm in an attempt to determine whether he'd discovered a weaker spot on your belly.

"Really? What was it?" Thor asked enthusiastically, gazing expectantly at you. Loki allowed his fingers to rest, unmoving, against your belly, endlessly entertained by the fact that you now had to come up with a joke to maintain your lie.

"It... it was..."

"Go on, darling, tell them the joke," Loki urged, prodding his fingers into the soft spot below your navel.

"HA! I... Sorry, it's just... it's fuhuhunny!!" You burst into giggles once again as he clawed at the center of your belly for just a moment.

"Are you sure you're ok? You're acting really weird," Clint observed, frowning with his brow furrowed in confusion. You nodded rapidly, your hands shifting to grasp what would look like your belly to the others, but really was Loki's hand in an attempt to keep it still for just a minute so you could think straight.

"Too much wine, I suspect," Loki tutted, shifting a bit so he could sneak his other hand down from under your arm to tickle the taut skin directly below your ribcage.

"I-hi dihid NOHOT have too muhuch wine!!" you scolded through louder laughter. Smirking, he started up again with his other hand. And finally, he broke you. "PSHH-AH-HA-HE'S TICKLING MEHEHE!!"

"I knew it!!" Wanda exclaimed triumphantly.

Now that you weren't attempting to hide it anymore, you were suddenly writhing in Loki's arms to try to evade his fingers. The abrupt change in your effort to fight for freedom allowed you to slip out of his grasp, sliding off his lap and stumbling to put distance between the pair of you. There was a bright, ticklish grin spread wide across your face that made his heart skip unexpectedly.

"You think I'm finished with you just because you've told them the truth?" he asked ominously, rising to his feet. With a squeak, you held your hands out in front of you protectively, taking a step backward.

"Loki - that's not... how is this fahair??"

"Darling, you can drop the act. You and I both know you don't mind this as much as you pretend you do."

"Shut up," you grumbled.

"That's cute," Tony teased, earning a sharp glare. Your attention quickly snapped back to Loki as he took a powerful stride toward you.

"Are you going to run? Or shall we do this here?" he queried. With a whine, you pivoted on your heel and sprinted out of the room. Sighing, Loki began pacing after you at a non-urgent speed.

"Brother! Don't kill the poor mortal," Thor called after him.

It didn't take Loki very much time to catch up to you. Predictably, you'd sprinted back to the lounge, glancing around wildly for a place to hide. Without a word, Loki wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, eliciting a startled squeak that was rapidly replaced by hysterical laughter when his fingers dug into your ribs.

"LOHOKI I SWEHEAR TO ALL YOHOUR GOHODS..."

"Preparing to threaten me, now? That would be unwise," he warned, his fingers working their way up toward your underarms. You clamped your arms down hard to your sides, stumbling forward as your struggle for freedom tipped you off-balance. Loki followed along with you, gradually marching you toward the wall on one side of the room. When he'd walked you close enough, he relented in his attack on your ribs in favor of grappling for your wrists, managing to catch hold of one of them and roughly spinning you around with a hand on your opposite shoulder. His other hand closed on your free wrist, jerking your arms above your head and slamming your wrists against the wall, one overlapping the other.

"L-Loki..." Your eyes were wide as saucers as you met his gaze, his face only inches from yours as he pinned your arms over your head.

"Tell me, darling - do I make you nervous?" he asked, passing one wrist to his other hand to pin them both in one of his larger hands, freeing the other to wriggle his fingers in your field of vision. You giggled anxiously, shutting your eyes tight.

"I-hi hate yohou, you know thahat?" you groaned, the color in your cheeks intensifying.

"Mm, but you don't mean it."

As your mouth flew open to retort, his free hand slipped up beneath your sweatshirt and shot up to the now taut skin under your arms. A shrill shriek escaped your lips before you began to let out desperate laughter, twisting and thrashing to try to free your wrists from the wall, from his grasp. Loki was far stronger than you, and so it was simple for him to maintain his grip, even as his tickling fingers lightened to a barely-there touch against the bare skin just above the hem of your t-shirt sleeve that drove you into silent laughter. Only then did he let his fingers still against your skin, pausing a moment to simply gaze at you as you came down from your state of ticklish euphoria.

"You're quite ticklish, even for a mortal," Loki teased, feeling a sense of endearment as your giggles gradually faded.

"Y-you can let go now," you breathed, glaring through your impossibly wide smile.

"Suppose I don't want to?" he asked, leaning into his hold on your wrists. "Suppose I like you this way?"

"Oh-ho-ho is that right?" you giggled. His free hand slid firmly down your side, enough weight to avoid tickling you, before landing on your waist just above your hip. His grip on your wrists finally loosened in favor of sliding his hand around the back of your neck, tugging you away from the wall. "L-eheh-Loki, there's no one around for you to be trying to fluster me in front of," you observed, your voice suddenly quieter, as though becoming uncertain of yourself. That beautiful smile still hadn't left your lips.

"I think..." he breathed, leaning his head down to close the distance between your faces. "... I think it's time we end this little charade, once and for all, hmm?"

"What are you-"

"I'm tired of the games, darling." He was so close now that he could feel your soft breath on his lips. "We both know there's something more to us than just this little game of ours."

You remained silent for a moment, your lips slightly parted as your tongue slipped out to wet them, your eyes glazed. Then, you surged forward, capturing Loki's lips with yours.

Your lips were soft, a hint of wine on your tongue as you kissed him hungrily. Loki growled low in his throat when your fingers slid up into his hair, tugging gently at the nape of his neck. Your other arm wrapped tight around his waist, and he pulled you closer with a powerful tug at your hip to feel your body against his. It was frantic and passionate, and it was everything he hadn't realized he wanted so badly these past few months.

As he pulled away, he drew your bottom lip between his teeth gently before separating his mouth from yours. There was a hazy look in your eyes that made his heart swell, knowing he was the cause. They flitted down to gaze at the floor for a moment, an almost shy expression on your face.

"That... that thing you do? The, the... 'two points of control?' Yeah, that's pretty damn effective," you breathed, drawing a laugh from Loki's chest.

"I'm certain I can come up with a number of ways to fluster you, if you'll allow it," he growled, pressing his lips to yours once again for just a moment. You grinned at him, a sly look in your eyes.

"Do your worst, my prince."

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