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sergeantbarnessdoll · 5 months ago

Note

Winter Soldier + Choking kink + Unprotected sex + His first orgasm in years, make it rough, violent, sexy. 🥰

thank you Shannon. 🫶🏻 you naughty beastie.

Caught Myself A Cute Little Doll » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Winter Soldier x Female Reader

Summary: The Winter Soldier caught himself a cute little doll.

Warnings: Smut (18+), language, violence, dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, unprotected sex, rough sex, metal arm kink, size kink, praise kink, hair pulling, choking, tit slapping, crying during sex, pet names

A/N: @katherineswritingsblog and I were talking about this and she dropped it in my ask box🥵❤️‍🔥 she also provided the gif for it🩷

A/N #2: I used Google translate for the Russian translations. I’m sorry if I got anything wrong.

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creator.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

You jumped on the Winter Soldier’s back and put him in a head lock. His metal arm reached back and easily threw you off of him. You groaned in pain when you hit the ground. You lifted your head to see him walking towards you with a knife in his right hand. You quickly got on your feet and got into your fighting position.

“You wanna fight dirty? We’ll fight dirty.” You said. “No weapons. We’re going to use our fists.” You tell him.

“You’re gonna wish you didn’t say that, кукла.” The Winter Soldier says, smirking behind his mask.

He put his knife back in the holster and got into fighting position. You threw the first punch, missing due to him dodging your punch. You threw another one, punching his mask and made it fall off of his face. You stared at him, admiring his features. You didn’t know the Winter Soldier was hot.

You were quickly snapped out of your thoughts when he punched you in the face. You hissed in pain and bent over, holding the part of your face he punched. Normally you can take a punch, but that one hurt like hell. A whimper left your lips when his hand grabbed a handful of your hair and yanked your head up.

“We’re not done yet, кукла.” He says.

He threw you back against the wall, making you fall to the floor. He walked over to you and bent down, wrapped his metal hand around your throat and pulled you up, pinning you against the wall. You waited for him to throw more punches, but he didn’t. The Winter Soldier couldn’t help but look at the way your mission suit looks like on your body, hugging your curves just right. He couldn’t help but wonder what you look like without it on. He went to unzip it, but you instinctively smacked his hand away.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” You asked.

The Winter Soldier didn’t listen. He unzipped your suit all the way, revealing your black lace bra and panties to him.

“Looks like I caught myself a cute little кукла.” He says with a smirk.

“I’m not your кукла.” You practically hissed.

“You will be by the time I’m done with you.” He says huskily.

He took your mission suit the rest of the way off, dropping it on the floor. He reached a hand behind your back, expertly unclamping your bra and letting it fall off of your chest. The Winter Soldier licked his lips at the sight of your bare breasts. He brought his right hand up to your breasts, rubbing his fingers against your skin before smacking one of your breasts to make it jiggle, making you hiss in pain and your eyes water. He did it again with your other one, making you hiss in pain again.

His right hand found its way to your panties, ripping them off and shoved the ruined material in the pocket of his tactical pants. His metal hand let go of your throat so he can unbutton and unzip his tactical pants. You took the opportunity to get your breathing under control due to how tight his metal hand was squeezing your throat.

You watched him pull his hard cock out of his boxers. His tip was leaking with precum. He’s big. The Winter Soldier’s hands got a good grip on your hips and picked you up. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. He reached a hand down to stroke his cock a couple times before lining it at your tight entrance. He slid his cock inside of you without warning. He didn’t even let you adjust to his size. The stretch of his cock stung, but it also felt good.

You got a good grasp on his shoulders when he started thrusting at a fast pace. Your eyes fluttered shut and your mouth fell open. Your head felt back against the wall, enjoying the feeling of his cock inside of you. You could feel every vein and every inch of his cock.

While you were in your little world, the Winter Soldier was in his own. He can’t remember the last time he had sex. What he does know that it feels amazing. He sped up his thrusts, fucking you at a rough and violent pace. You already know that you’re going to be sore after this, but you couldn’t care less in the slightest about it.

He kissed along your shoulders and up to the side of your neck. You tilted your head to the side to give him more access. You moaned when his teeth bit your skin hard enough for a hickey, marking you as his.

Your nails dug into the material of his tactical vest the rougher he fucked you. His cock was hitting all of the right spots perfectly, making a pornographic moan leave your lips. The rougher his thrusts got, your eyes watered more. You didn’t even realize tears rolling down your cheeks. That urged the Winter Soldier on. The sight of you crying on his cock made him fuck you at a relentless pace. You quickly became a crying mess. That’s when the pleasure became unbearable. You weren’t sure how much you could take.

“Pl-Please slow down a little.” You pleaded, trying to reason with him.

“No.” Is all he said.

You whined. That earned you his metal hand around your throat again, giving it a squeeze.

“Quit fucking whining and take what I give you.” He practically growls.

You whimpered and nodded your head. His metal hand remained around your throat. He continued to fuck you violently. Your pussy clenched around his cock when he hit your sweet spot. A loud moan left your lips and your nails dug more in his tactical vest.

“Fuck…” He moans. “I should’ve just fucked you instead of fighting you.” He says, followed by a grunt.

“Why didn’t you?” You sassed.

“Don’t fucking sass me, little girl.” He growls. “Sass me again and I won’t let you cum.” He says.

You quickly dropped the sassy act. You should’ve known better than to sass him, but you did it anyway.

His right hand left your hip and found its way to your clit, blindly finding it. He found it with ease. His fingers applied pressure on your clit and began rubbing it. Your pussy clenched around his cock again.

“You’re so fucking wet for me.” He huskily says. “Did fighting me make your pussy wet?” He asks.

“Mhmm, yes!” You say more in a gasp.

The Winter Soldier chuckles to himself. He continues to rub your clit as he fucked you faster. Your legs began to shake against his waist. The pleasure became more unbearable than it was a moment ago. You weren’t sure how much longer you were going to last.

“I’m gonna cum!” You whimpered.

“Hold it.” He demands.

“But-” You shut your mouth when he gave you a warning look.

“I said hold it.” He repeats.

You whimpered, feeling your pussy become sensitive due to how rough he was fucking you and his fingers rubbing your clit. Your legs continued to tremble against his waist. Tears were streaming down your face at this point.

The Winter Soldier felt his cock twitch in your pussy, feeling his orgasm building up quickly. His first orgasm in years. His thrust became sloppy the closer he got to his orgasm. Before either of you knew it, he came inside of you, painting your walls white. A white ring of cum formed at the base of his cock.

“Cum.” He says, finally giving you permission.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and a loud moan left your lips when you came. You came so hard that you soaked the front of his tactical pants. He smacked your breasts a few times as he fucked you through your orgasm. His thrusts came to a halt. He slowly pulled his cock out of your pussy, making you whine at the loss of his cock inside of you.

He put you back on your feet. Your legs were so wobbly that you fell to the floor, leaning your back against the wall. You sat here panting and stared up at him, watching him put his cock back in his boxers and zip and button his tactical pants. He crouched down in front of you, his metal hand grasping your jaw. He kissed you roughly, making you moan against his lips. He pulled away from your lips and stood up, leaving without saying a word. You sat on the floor naked with his cum dripping out of your pussy as you caught your breath.

You finally stood up and put your bra and mission suit back on. You were left without panties due to the Winter Soldier ripping them off of you and putting them in his pocket. You walked out of the room, making your way outside of the building.

The Winter Soldier watched you from a distance, smirking to himself. He knows this isn’t going to be a one time thing and you knew it too. He’s going to see his cute little кукла real soon.

🦾🦾🦾🦾🦾🦾🦾🦾🦾🦾🦾🦾🦾🦾🦾🦾🦾

-Bucky’s Doll

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vagabond-umlaut · 8 months ago

Text

you kiss the back of my legs and i want to cry

only the sun has come this close, only the sun

gojo satoru x wife!reader; tooth-rotting domestic fluff; gojo LOVERBOY™️ satoru; you aren't any better than him [but less poetic abt the predicament]; tw: pregnancy, 1 tiny mention of throwing up; satoru calls you 'cookie'; and he redefines the word besotted here; his thoughts are also a little yandere-ish but tht's cute, methinks; 2.3k wc; i just wish satoru was real and in my arms rn T-T

belongs to the series 'you make my heart flutter and fibrillate' but can be read as a stand-alone fic if you wanna

the fic title and summary don't rly hv a very strong connection to the fic plot— except the fact they fit both satoru's & reader's characters in this series to a tee ^_^

fic title and summary from 'gps' by shauna barbosa // header frm pinterest // divider by @/benkeibear // jjk isn't mine

you are clingy.

always have been, in fact, now that gojo thinks about it. long before the two of you were married. long before you were engaged. quite a long time before the two of you were anything apart from friends at best, acquaintances at worst.

yet now, as he feels a pair of arms squeeze tighter around his middle, not really still very much squeezing the air out of him— your husband reckons you've grown loads clingier now—

and he loves you for this. loving you even more when he feels kisses being pressed into the space between his shoulder blades.

soft lips, a tad chapped. not without the shy grazing of your teeth.

just how he likes it.

very much how he adores you.

affection, settled deeper than should be feasible into the hollow of his chest, flutters a little when you nuzzle into his back; that pleased little hum of yours quick to follow it. smiling, gojo turns his head a touch to catch a glimpse of you. it takes a beat before you remove your face to lock eyes with him, before returning your face to his back.

he huffs a chuckle, sounding incredibly fond all the same. his feelings for you can never be suppressed anyway. time has proved this to him enough number of times.

he runs a finger down the length of your arm, relishing how it leaves a line of goosebumps in its wake—

"you wanna tell me something, cookie?" your husband finally asks.

your reply doesn't come immediately. and when it does, it is nothing more than a noncommittal noise. too spoiled. too stubborn. a bit too satisfied as well, the emotion further expressed when you nuzzle his back yet again.

gojo's smile grows bigger. his cheeks hurt a little.

he thinks he can live forever with this kind of pain, not even a sigh of complaint ever leaving him.

"aha—" he exclaims loudly, still soft enough to keep the quiet of this sweet bubble you've pulled you both into, "so it's just my irresistible charm that's making you so clingy tonight, hm?"

another beat passes.

and just when he thinks he might have to do with another one of your indistinct sounds for an answer, you speak. to be more precise, whine and grumble, everything so sweet in your adorable voice.

"it's not me being clingy, 'toru— it's the baby— the baby is making me so clingy. making me feel as if i can't live even for one second without squishing you like thisss!!!"

the first reaction your tightening grasp brings out is the wind getting knocked out of his lungs— the second reaction being all that oxygen, nitrogen and carbon dioxide being replaced by a feeling so fierce and so tender— the strongest thinks his knees would have buckled under its weight had he not been lying down but standing—

not that he really minds that, though.

for you, he's always on his knees. whether you ask it of him or not. the only light in this world he is willing to bow his eyes before.

it takes him not too much effort but gojo makes a point of struggling whilst he shifts in your hold. and grins when he finally comes face-to-face with you, drinking in the way your brows are puckered and lips a little parted in an incredulous expression.

his grin simmers down however, when his six eyes notice the spark in your tummy. so tiny. so blinding. so priceless— to him and you both— he knows this, surer than he is of the scars on his palms.

thumbing the hem of your t-shirt, he hums, dragging his eyes back to be drowned in yours, "how many weeks along are you, wifey?"

"satoru," you start, voice turning sharper and just as skeptical as your face was, still is— only to be shushed by a finger to your lips. the man addressed feels his heart skip a beat at your confused big scowl— it's got to be a crime to be as cute as you— really!!!

he pinches your cheek lightly.

"it isn't like i don't remember that, cookie. i just wanted you to say it— c'mon, tell me quickly!" he presses, noting then utilising the moment your face begins to lose its cynical hue over his words.

the scowl lingers there however, twisting your delectably pretty lips—

"nine weeks," you say, hooking a leg over his waist to pull him closer. can he be any closer to you, though? your answer is always a yes, he knows you well enough to know this.

"thirty-one weeks more before we meet our baby."

it's not exactly thirty-one weeks; it's thirty weeks and five days before either of you can meet the baby, but gojo decides not to point out the error. you always hate it when he points out your tiny errors and make a point of snarking about it every time he opens his mouth to speak a word next— the man is wary not to upset his wife, yes, thank you very much.

he offers a sage "hm" in response, one he observes you accept slowly. the scowl lifts itself into a curve so fond— gojo thinks once before he vaults his next query your way. not wanting to see that smile vanish in front of him—

the ask won't cause anything so. but he can never be too sure. he has read too many books and articles to not grasp how fragile pregnancy hormones can make one be.

he tucks a strand of hair behind the shell of your ear.

fingers tarrying there when he sees you lean into his touch— not akin a moth to a bright flame, no. he can never hurt you. not even for once in his wildest dreams—

but how the north pole of a magnet hurries towards the south pole of another magnet. so different in their nature, a perfect pair of opposite crafted by the nature— maybe that's why nothing can ever stop them from rushing to each other once they're proximated, the lines of their mutual attraction existing even when thousands of miles apart.

just like you and him.

contrasting, complementing, completing each other every instant, in every facet of life.

he lets his fingers dance through the tangles in your hair, unravelling the knots in there. that pleased little hum of yours reaches him once again.

stowing the sound away, later to be placed on a pedestal in an ornate glass case as the most valuable praise ever given to him for his effort, he runs a gentle hand, nails scratching your scalp carefully.

"and at nine weeks old, just how big might our baby be?"

"i think there is a chart comparing our baby's size to fruits..." syllables unhurried and a pinch mumbled, you press your heel to draw him in a little more. "i did not really read that too attentively— oh. but. yeah!" a grin forms on your features, sleepy still twinkling in excitement.

"shoko sent me a link to this website earlier today— any ideas, 'toru, what it might be about?"

gojo does have an idea. he has a very, very good idea.

but he chooses not to say that aloud. you look so extremely adorable when you are being this excited. he would hate nothing more than to see your amped up self getting interrupted by him.

he shakes his head. your grin brightens. eyes crinkling with a glint, he can tell even without looking, is knowing.

the tips of your fingers caress his bare back, softer than a breath. "it's about when our baby forms which organs— our baby's eyes are being formed now!!! isn't that too cute, 'toru?"

"it is, cookie," he hums without any hesitation, six eyes activating one more time to zero in on that teeny-tiny spark. then deactivating when he looks back up to your sleepy eyes. a terribly tickled, equally wicked glimmer creeps into his grin. "so our baby is just like a tiny ball of cells with two big blue eyes, huh? they must look so scary, heh— ouch!"

your pinch did not really pain him, but gojo does his best to mimic an awfully wounded puppy, sogging wet from the rain and waiting at the doorstep with his moving blue eyes— it takes less than three seconds before you let go of your glare with a sigh.

you massaging the sore spot on his arm, your husband watches you give yet another sigh.

"first of all, there's no guarantee our baby will have your eye color and not mine, 'toru," you explain, pinning him under your drowsy stare, "it is very difficult to predict that for sure— and secondly: i'll punch you if you ever call our baby scary— sure, they don't really look like a human in this moment, but they'll slowly get there in forty weeks— as per the website, their face, hands and feet are forming in the ninth—"

"okay, alright!! i get your point, my insanely smart, insanely beautiful, insanely sexy wife," gojo cuts in, smiling while warning bells chime in his head at the faintest gloss in your eyes—

but maybe they weren't noisy enough. that is why he doesn't bite his tongue, rather continuing, "but you weren't actually blaming our poor human-ey baby for your clinginess, were you? it's not like they have a telepathic communication set up with you— hell, maybe they haven't even started forming their brain!"

"the baby's brain starts forming by the fifth week, satoru," your quiet reply reaches him exactly when he gets his last giggle out. the moist sheen in your eyes grows more prominent.

and his insides begin to twist—

one-third helpless. two-thirds contrite.

you don't stop talking, tone lower than he has heard you use in nearly forever, "and you better not comment on my bond with our baby— i'll punch you twice if you—"

"i wasn't doing that and i promise to never make you feel that way, my cutie-pie cookie," gojo interrupts, voice far gentler than earlier, just as low as yours, "but feel free to throw me out the house if i ever do that, even accidentally. okay?"

you're not okay.

you never are, when it comes to you being actually harsh to him, even when he's the one asking you to be— shakespeare once called love to be blind— your husband doesn't think you're blind, however. it is your well-contemplated decision to see his mistakes and see each of them as excusable, perfectly pardonable, no matter how silly or serious the world might regard them to be—

you make a noise. somewhat annoyed. unhappy too, yeah. before you push your face into the crook of his neck, nose nuzzling into the flesh there.

you would have bitten him by now. but he reckons you might be a bit too tired for all that. you couldn't even finish your dinner before facing the urge to throw up tonight, yet again.

feeling sorry, almost, gojo resumes his ministrations to your hair, half because you need to fall asleep now; the hands on the clock are close to striking midnight. the other half because he just loves playing with your hair— only to still when you suddenly pull your head back.

brows furrowed as you peer at him, eyes big and earnest.

"you don't really mind when i hug you like this, do you, 'toru?"

"no, cookie!! of course not!!" the man wastes not even a breath before he rushes to explain— because seriously, what!??

sure, he wasn't the first one to fall between you two. but ever since he did fall, he has never not expressed how every second away from you, every fraction of an instant away from you, causes him pain.

and yeah, he might have been a tad too dramatic whilst doing so, but you've always been so good at reading him— then why on earth can't you read him now? why don't you read, he loves it when you seek him out, he loves you more than anyone and anything else??

"good," your satisfied little chirp gives him a light shove away from his frantic thoughts. something tells him he should be put on alert by the way your lips curve into a smug smile next.

but gojo finds himself uncaring. just immensely relieved as he trails his fingers from the back of your head to your chin. thumb reaching out to brush the corner of your infectious smile. you continue.

"but even if you did mind, sorry not sorry— you were the one who put the ring on my finger, so you have to deal with everything i'm, mister!! no refunds nor complaints can be filed here, gojo-san~"

and neither refunds nor complaints he wishes to file, satoru muses to himself as he cups your cheek in one hand. bending down to steal the taste of your beam, your tease, your love for him on his tongue—

not when he has received the world in exchange for letting go of that poor splintered mess of a heart, he used to call his, but is now yours.

and will always stay yours—

"hey 'toru— what will you do if i chomp on your fingers right now, like really hard? will you yell? or will you be the freak that you're and enjoy it, huh?"

gojo pauses.

and wonders.

is there any binding vow one can make to secure oneself to another in every lifetime, for all eternity?

he hopes there is.

your husband really, seriously hopes there is—

'cause no way in heaven, earth or hell, does gojo satoru want to let go of you— and he will not let go of you.

this idea was ROTTING in my brain for ages, but wht gave me the spark– the boost to write this was the wonderful sukuna fic written by ari @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat ❤️❤️❤️ i seriously love u & ur writings sm, babes 🥹🥹 everyone pls go check their masterlist out. it's studded w diamonds and pearls 😌😌🥰

and this is also for my sweet & sour bestie mimi @avatarofstars 🤭🤭— u 🤝 me in being clingy af towards our fictional hubbies 😂😂🥰

hope this was an enjoyable read! pls don't plagiarise, translate or repost this ❤️❤️

masterlist

#gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #kit posts 📝

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bones4thecats · 10 months ago

Text

Their S/O Is Related To Their Enemy

Type of Writing: Random Idea Name: Their S/O Is Related To Their Enemy Characters: Toffee of Septarsis, Bill Cipher, and Lord Hater Idea-Giver: Random Thoughts

A/N: Much like with my Vivziepop pieces, I will have the species of the reader underneath their header images. I had no ideas for HIM since I couldn't find a good connection for a reader and him in the relation to the girls context. I hope you do like this first creation of mine! Have great rests of your nights/days!

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Mewman! Reader ; Big Sibling of Moon Butterfly and Aunt of Star Butterfly

☄️ As the eldest child of Queen Comet Butterfly and Count Lazlo Marmalade of Lushreach, you were always held into high regards when it came to political affairs

☄️ While your parents mainly handled the more detailed affairs, you would watch over Moon as she aged. From looking over her when she was a toddler till when she grew old enough to organize herself into the many issues your kingdom faced

☄️ During those many years, you had held her hand throughout every single hardship that came her way. And you planned to hold her hand throughout this war that the Mewmans and Monsters faced

☄️ And even during these kind of dire situations, you always stayed strong to your family. But, when your mother and father decided to pass you up for your sister, saying she would fit better as the ruler, you snapped

☄️ You knew the only reason they chose her was because she was more like them; close minded on Monsters and Mewmans regaining trust in one another. While you were far more accepting and willing to work with the Monsters

☄️ Jumbling up all your stuff and jumped down from your room's window before sliding and sneaking outside with expect parkour practice, you landed by the woods and looked back at your sister's window, seeing the light turn off

" I am so sorry, Moon... but I cannot stay in such a corrupted land any longer... "

☄️ During your expedition to find some kind of Monster civilization, you had dodged many forced from your kingdom, each speaking of how your family needed you back home, much to your annoyance

☄️ It was during this travel that you came across an injured Septarsis, one that you learned the name of, Toffee. And, during your many years of living alongside one another, you shared your life stories, from your childhoods to your wishes, it was all out in the open to show your trust

☄️ Toffee wasn't very big on the royal family, viewing the abuse of power they held as illogical, and eventually viewing the magic they hold as overkill. But, for some weird reason, you didn't bother him

☄️ And he had to admit, watching the little offspring of his enemy Moon Butterfly look at you in shock as she tried fighting her blood made him smirk

" Uhm- Toffee? Why are you smiling at this? Isn't Y/N supposed to be just grabbing the wand and coming back here? " " Oh, you'll understand in a few seconds... "

☄️ Star was trying not to harm you, sending minor spells at you, trying to just knock you on your butt so she could just ask you why you had left and why you were siding with Ludo and the rest of his gang

☄️ Once she did, she was shocked to see that the markings on your cheeks, the ones that matched your mother's, but they were faded and covered with thin-lined x's

☄️ You then burst up and kicked the young girl away, bidding farewell as you pocked your cheek and stuck your tongue out mockingly before winking at where the camera laid for Toffee and the forces to see

" I-Is she...? " " I told you. You would find out soon... now! Y/N, I would like to congratulate you on retrieving such an important tool; Star's mistrust of her mother. Good job, my royal. "

☄️ Smirking at your husband, you pecked his cheek and looked at the boys as you handed Ludo a small portion of magic sealed from Star's wand, and just this amount would be good for now

☄️ Toffee then looked at your marks, which slightly glowed with magic... how troublesome could it be if that little brat got to your mind? He didn't want to even think of that...

Human! Reader ; Older Cousin of Dipper and Mabel Pines (Early-30s)

👁️ Being only a baby when the incident occurred between your father, Stanford Pines, and your uncle, Stanley Pines, you had often questioned the point of why there were so many weird things happening in your small town

👁️ Gravity Falls always had small details that made no sense to you, and as you grew up being raised by your money-obsessed uncle, you had written these things down in a journal that you had numbered 4 with a hand-print that, by what your uncle said, was your father's

👁️ You always had these small visions growing up, from seeing some kind of weird gnomes around the woods to seeing a kind of large minotaurs (which were supposedly called 'MAN-otaurs for some reason?)

👁️ But none of those compared to the small triangle man that appeared in your dreams and would mess around with you from time to time as you grew older

👁️ And, when your little cousins, Dipper and Mabel Pines, had come by to spend the summer at the Mystery Shack with you and your uncle, these visions seemed to happen more often and get more and more vivid

👁️ This 'demon' has you labeled him, had been caught by you staring at your cousins as they slept for weeks, and because of the worry you felt for the two, you began to lose sleep, alarming your family and friends

👁️ Eventually, after being scolded by Stanley and having been forced by Mabel and Wendy to lay down for at least a couple hours, you had fallen into a deep rest as Mabel's pig, Waddles, laid beside you

👁️ You had awoken inside of a dark field, one that you had been in multiple times beforehand, and hearing the very light-sounding maniacal laughter of a triangle demon you called a 'friend', you turned around

👁️ A flaming yellow triangle appeared and allowed the 'one-eyed Dorito' as you called him to be summoned

👁️ He adjusted his bowtie and floated with his cane leaning against literal air as you groaned and motioned for him to come nearby, making him laugh and ask if you missed him

" Oh, I didn't miss you par say... I just missed doing THIS! "

👁️ Wrapping your arms around his frame you wrestled the three-sided demon into the grass and made him laugh at your actions, his arms and legs flaying about to try swatting you away without any use of his powers

👁️ Once you finally stopped wrestling the demon, or rather, stopped wrestling Bill, he had popped his hat of his head and began to ask you the questions you always said you had no comment on

" So, about the two flesh-bags your related too. " " You mean my cousins? Dipper and Mabel? " " Yeah! Pine Tree and Shooting Star! They've been getting far too close to my plans, and you know what happens to those who get too close. They go- "

👁️ Holding his palm up to the sky, he made a small figurine of an unknown man before lifting his opposite hand and smashing it, making a paint-like substance flay onto yours and his 'faces'

" SPLAT! And, I know how much you care about those life-forms. Now, since your father and uncle aren't in my reach anymore, I figured that you could talk to them about maybe taking a couple days off from monster-hunting, y'know, and allow me to work on this more~ " " Bill. We've talked about this once and we've talked about it a million times- " " Actually more like 7, but go on... " " A million times. Anyone with a somewhat functioning brain like Old Man McGucket's can notice how stubborn they- well, Dipper is on unraveling this town. It'd take a miracle to show him enough to get him to back away from his mission. " " Yeah, a miracle. Interesting point, human. "

👁️ Cocking an eyebrow and holding your hand out as if to grab something, Bill narrowed and widened his one eye largely as a small cat with silver hair and yellow highlights appeared in your hands, obviously with one eye that's colors were opposite (white <--> black)

👁️ Smiling and petting the demonic-looking feline, you looked back at Bill and held the cat as he made a ball of yarn to play with the animal, underneath his eye a small pink flush growing

👁️ You were by-far the most entertaining human he had ever met- even if you were related to that traitorous man you had to call your father

Alien / Star-Nomad! Reader ; Wander's Older Sibling and Main Guardian

⚡ Your younger brother is a very energetic being, and if you were for certain, you'd call him the most energetic being in the whole Universe

⚡ You had spent most of your life watching over your brother as he and his friend, Sylvia, spread themselves around the many different worlds during their travels. With you being the one who had to get them out of many bad situations

⚡ But, a few years prior, you had given the two permission to travel on their own, meaning they could not afford to get into massive trouble since you wouldn't be there

⚡ They had been doing well as you traveled on your own, and during one of your more random leaps to another world, you had met a small eyeball with a tiny body who called himself 'Commander Peepers'

⚡ You had stared at the guy and cocked an eyebrow and heard a yell of Peeper's name, making you both look up in shock, though yours was hidden far better

" L-Lord Hater! To what do I owe the pleasure? " " You owe everything to this pleasure! Also, we're out of cheese dip. "

⚡ The cloaked man had looked up at you and lightly tilted his head before looking down at you and furrowing his eyebrows in both frustration and confusion

" Who is this, Peepers? " " I'm not sure myself, Sir. They had just appeared out of nowhere. " " You! Who are you?! " " I'm Y/N. Intergalactic Traveler. "

⚡ Lord Hater looked at you up and down, you looked like what the average Star-Nomad would appear, but you had a height advantage, maybe being a couple heads shorter than the Lord himself

⚡ You looked right back at him and scoffed lightly before asking him such a bold and broad question that not many would dare ask on that planet

" Why do you look like some kind of rock-emo with a deep voice? "

⚡ Commander Peepers looked at you in shock and back at Lord Hater, fear consuming his soul as he wondered one thing and one thing alone; How in the name of everything did you just ASK him that?!

⚡ Lord Hater began to chuckle and smirk at you, his skeleton eye glaring at you as they glowed lighter green in irritation

" Why do you look like some kind of wannabe villain? "

⚡ So, to sum it up, your first meeting wasn't the best one...

⚡ But, after a few more attempts to be civil to one another landed you a part as a new member of the Hater Army, your spot laying alongside Commander Peepers, though you were more of a spy than anything

⚡ And life was doing pretty well, you and Lord Hater had begun to court and try getting your traits to collide and mix well with your new lives together as Peepers had to keep you from snapping the hot-head's neck every week

⚡ When Wander, the brother that you had sent away, came back and found you alongside Lord Hater, his eyes sparkled; had you found someone that you loved like him?!

⚡ Sylvia and Hater do not get along at all, only putting up with one another for you and Wander, since they both knew how dear you guys were to one another

⚡ Commander Peepers and you always have to keep Hater from jumping up and trying to kill Wander for his antics, such as trying to play tag with him, resulting in you taking the day off and heading to a nearby planet

⚡ He and Wander see each other far differently

⚡ Wander adores your lover, whenever you ask him what he thinks of the Lord, he always laughs and gives you an honest and optimistic opinion as you smile and laugh at his small story of his last game with him

⚡ Hater on the other hand, does not share well things. Instead, it results in him whining about how annoying your younger brother was, and that turns into a sob story of a failed accomplishment, which led to him being curled in your lap with a large pink blanket around his frame

⚡ While they may not have the best bond, Hater can put up with your brother if it means you'll stay by his side. You're the best thing he had ever held to himself, alongside his planetary conquers of course!

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hawthorne-bias · 3 days ago

Text

ivory mist

Steve and you are like the opposite poles of two magnets—drawn together no matter the distance or obstacle, always finding your way back to each other.

tags: steve rogers x you; angst with a happy ending; hurt/comfort; one domestic quarrel followed by one ton of domestic fluff; steve 'the-best-boyfriend-ever' rogers.

warnings: mild allusions to abandonment issues present in the story. steve calls you 'sweetheart' and 'honey'. no gendered language used for the reader.

word count: 972.

a/n: pictures used in header are from pinterest. dividers used here are by @saradika-graphics. mcu and its characters aren't mine. likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!! hope you'll enjoy reading this!! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

The apartment feels lifeless without Steve.

No sound of his steady footsteps on the hardwood floors, no low hum of his voice as he tidies up or works on a project. Just the hollow, echoing silence and the soft ticking of the clock on the wall, counting every agonizing second since he walked out.

You sit curled up on the couch, your knees drawn to your chest and your arms wrapped tightly around them. The blanket you grabbed earlier is tangled around you, but it doesn’t offer the comfort you’re seeking—

Nothing does.

It was a stupid fight. You know that now. Hell, you knew it even as it was happening. But somehow, your emotions got the better of you, and what should’ve been a minor disagreement exploded into something far bigger, far uglier than you ever intended.

He had stood there, jaw tight, his eyes clouded with hurt and frustration. The words he didn’t say seemed louder than the ones you both hurled at each other. You were ready to keep arguing, ready to push, until his quiet, steady voice cut through it all:

“I need to leave before I say something I’ll regret.”

And then he left.

The door hadn’t slammed—it clicked softly behind him, the sound somehow more devastating than if he’d stormed out in a rage. It felt final, even though deep down, you knew it wasn’t. Steve wasn’t the kind of man to walk out for good. But the image of his retreating back, the tension in his shoulders, the quiet pain in his eyes... it was enough to shatter something inside you.

That was hours ago. Hours of trying to keep busy, trying to distract yourself from the ache in your chest. But nothing worked. You folded laundry, washed dishes that weren’t even dirty, and even tried watching TV, but every second felt heavy, suffocating. Eventually, you gave up, curling into the couch and letting the tears come.

By now, you’ve cried yourself into exhaustion, your head pounding and your throat raw. But the tears still come in waves, your mind replaying every word, every look, every moment you wish you could take back.

When the sound of keys turning in the lock reaches your ears, you freeze.

The door creaks open, and there he is—Steve.

He looks tired, his broad shoulders slumped and his hair slightly disheveled like he’s been running his hands through it all day. His eyes, those piercing blue eyes that you adore so much, soften the moment they meet yours.

“Sweetheart,” he breathes, his voice thick with regret.

Before you can say anything, he’s closing the door behind him and crossing the room in a few long strides. He drops to his knees in front of you, his hands reaching for your face.

“Oh, honey,” he murmurs, his thumbs brushing tenderly against your tear-streaked cheeks. His touch is so gentle, so full of love, that it only makes the tears start all over again.

“I’m sorry,” you choke out, your hands grabbing at his wrists as if to anchor yourself. “Steve, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“Shh,” he soothes, shaking his head. “No, sweetheart. Don’t. I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have walked out like that. I just... I didn’t want to say something that could hurt you.”

“But I hurt you,” you whisper, your voice cracking. “I shouldn’t have said what I did. I didn’t mean it.”

“I know,” he says softly, his forehead pressing against yours. “And I didn’t mean what I said either. We were both upset. It happens.” He pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours. “But I’ll never walk out and not come back. Never. You have to know that.”

“I was so scared,” you admit, your voice breaking as you clutch the front of his shirt. “I thought—what if—what if this was the one time you didn’t?”

Steve’s face crumples, his eyes glistening as he cups your face more firmly. “Oh, sweetheart. I could never. You’re my home, my heart. I’d be lost without you.”

You sniffle softly, the tears finally subsiding as his words wash over you, easing the ache in your chest.

Steve shifts, pulling you off the couch and into his lap on the floor. His strong arms wrap around you, holding you close as you bury your face in his chest. The steady thump of his heart against your ear is the most comforting sound in the world.

“I hate fighting with you,” you mumble into his shirt, your voice muffled but heartfelt.

“I hate it too,” he replies, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “But it doesn’t change how much I love you. Nothing ever could.”

You pull back slightly, looking up at him through damp lashes. “I love you too,” you whisper, your voice trembling.

Steve smiles, his dimples softening his face. He leans in and kisses you, slow and tender, like he’s pouring all his love into that single moment. When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, and his hands trace soothing patterns on your back.

“Let me make dinner,” he offers, his tone light.

You let out a soft laugh, the sound breaking the tension that still lingers in the air. “You’re cooking? Should I call for backup now or wait until you set off the smoke alarm?”

Steve grins, his dimples deepening. “Hey, I can follow a recipe. Sometimes.”

You laugh again, the sound fuller this time, and lean into him, resting your head against his shoulder.

The fight feels like a distant memory now, the pain of it replaced by the warmth of his embrace.

And as the steady reassurance of his love settles into your heart, you realize, no matter what, you’ll always find your way back to each other. That’s what matters. That’s what will always matter.

if you've enjoyed this fic and would like to be tagged in my future fanfics, please drop an ask into my inbox! thank you so much for reading this!! <333

[minors and ageless blogs will not be tagged in the nsfw fics, by the way! i'm sorry!!]

steve rogers masterlist || general masterlist

#steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fluff #captain america x you #captain america x reader #avengers x you #avengers x reader #steve rogers #captain america #[my posts: steve rogers]

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sturnsbae · 8 months ago

Note

can you write about matt and the reader based on the songs better by Khalid and that way by tate McRae?

thank you❤️

BETTER THAT WAY - MATT STURNIOLO

ok the header is so ugly im sorry pls ignore that.

this was VERY rushed and it’s not at all proofread so im sorry if it has mistakes lol

summary: you and matt are keeping things on the low from everyone, but once you start catching feelings it starts to get complicated.

—

it was around september when matt had followed you on instagram, and only a few days later that he had started texting you. it all started off pretty harmless until you suddenly found yourself inviting him over at ungodly hours and smelling him on your sheets the next day.

you can’t help but wonder if maybe you hadn’t followed him back that things would be different, but looking at the chemistry and sexual tension between the two of you, it was inevitable that something would start between you guys. the hardest part of it all surprisingly wasn’t trying to hide it from his brothers, they were clueless, the real issue was avoiding any and all rumors from the fans. this meant no liking each others instagram posts, and most definitely no visible hickeys.

“fuck matt, don’t leave a hickey,” you moan softly as his lips suck the skin on your neck. he pulls back from your neck and hovers over you, looking down at you with a pout.

“i’m sorry, baby, but i can’t have your fans trying to decode who the hell left a big lovebite on my neck,” you chuckle, thinking back to how both of your guys fandoms had reacted when you started following each other on social media.

“hmph, i know. i just wish i could let the whole world know that you’re mine,” he sighs as he rolls off of you and sits up on the edge of the bed. his words feel like a stab in the heart. there’s nothing more that you want than to be able to be public about your… situation… with matt. it wasn’t clear what you guys were, but the big red scratches along his back were a tell tale sign that you guys were at least something.

“oh my god matt, i’m so sorry!” you exclaim as you trace the raw scratches on his back.

he chuckles, “no baby, i’m sorry. i must’ve fucked you too well,” he winks. you just roll your eyes and toss him his shirt that was laying on the floor next to your side of the bed.

“drive safe okay?” you say to him, giving him a small peck on the cheek before he walks off into the dark late night air. he smiles at you before driving away, leaving you with a small pain in your heart. you wish you guys could just doze off into a sleep in each others arms, but you can’t and it kills you. being famous comes at a cost apparently.

—

matty | are you going to larrays bday party tn?

y/n! | yeah i am! are you?

matty | yep! i’m excited to u ;)

y/n! | omfg if we get caught that’s on you

matty | oh please i know how to lock a bathroom door 🙄

y/n! | yeah okay whatever i’ll see u later matt 😭

and just like that, you found yourself putting extra effort into your outfit and makeup for tonight. you subconsciously found yourself putting on your smallest black dress, and putting on matt’s favorite lipstick.

“y/n! it’s so good to see you love!” tara says as she greets you at the door of the party.

“tara hi!! ive missed you it’s been too long!” you exclaim as you hug your friend. as your head scans the room, you notice matt holding a soda in his hand.

“i’ll see you around, okay?” you smile at her before scurrying over to your friends. you all take a shot, which leads to at least two other rounds.

“you look so hot, y/n! you never dress up this much! what’s the reason?” your friend exclaims over the music.

“eh, just felt like it!” you blush, trying to hold back from exposing your secret fling with matt sturniolo, who happens to be staring at you from across the room with a smirk on his lips, admiring you from afar.

“are you… looking at matt?” your friend whispers in your ear, immediately bringing you back to reality.

“what?! oh my god! no! i just zoned out a bit, but anyways lets take another shot yeah?” you say as your eyes widen, trying to think of any way to distract your friend from what she just saw.

after a few minutes, you feel your phone buzz. you look down at see a text from matt.

matty | upstairs bathroom. now.

you bite the insides of your cheeks, stumbling a little as you make your way up the stairs. as you enter the bathroom you see matt waiting for you.

“well hello sir,” you smirk.

“you look… fuck,” he says before he pulls you towards him and places his lips on yours. you chuckle into the kiss as your hands run wildly through his hair. matt gentle lifts you up and places you on the bathroom counter, placing himself between your legs and attaching his lips to your collarbone.

“mmm, matt,” you moan out, gripping his hair gently. matt works his lips all over your body, making your head fall back.

“matty, are you gonna fuck me or what?” you giggle out, clearly drunk.

“absolutely not, y/n. you’re drunk,” he says sternly.

“cmon please? you can’t just drag me up here and give me nothing,” you whine. he just smiles at you and kisses your forehead softly.

“i’m sorry, baby. i’ll come over tomorrow night, okay?” he says, gently rubbing your arm with his thumb. him saying this makes you upset. it reminds you that you’re just his secret sex toy.

you roll your eyes and hop off of the counter, “matt what even are we? i’m so tired of this secretive shit! it’s been like two months of this,” you slur out, very very clearly drunk.

“what? what do you mean?”

you just roll your eyes, “you heard me matt, i wanna be more than this! i like you! a lot!”

“y/n, you’re drunk. we’ll talk about this when you’re sober,” he sighs, running his hand through his hair.

“yeah whatever matt, i’m going back downstairs,” you say, scurrying back down to your friends.

“where the hell were you? you were gone for like… ever!” one of your friends drunkenly states.

“sorry! there was a line in the bathroom, but let’s take more shots pleaseeeee,” you beg, trying to get matt out of your mind and have a good night.

before you even realize it, you’re so drunk that you can barely even function, you’re pure giggles. matt has secretly been keeping at eye on you all night, making sure his girl isn’t getting into trouble.

“matt, we don’t mean to be intrusive but you’ve been staring at y/n all night. is there something going on there?” nick asks his brother, as chris nods his head agreeing with nicks question.

“it’s complicated, i’ll explain later. but i think she’s mad at me, and she’s also really fucking drunk. you guys wouldn’t be mad if i took her home tonight right?” matt asks.

“of course not man, do whatever you need. we won’t ask any questions… well, not until later. you owe us some sort of explanation,” chris laughs.

matt just rolls his eyes as he makes his way over to you, “hey y/n. you’re really drunk, i’m gonna take you home okay?”

“matt! stop it! why are you talking to me! you’re gonna expose our secret!” you exclaim, not realizing how loud you’re being, but no one is really paying attention.

“i don’t care about that anymore, i just wanna make sure you get home safe. please just let me drive you home?” he asks as he wraps an arm around you.

“ugh whatever,” you roll your eyes as you walk off with matt, waving goodbye to your friends who have a puzzled look on their faces.

“nick! hi! i haven’t seen you all night!” you squeal as you get settled in the backseat next to nick.

nick chuckles a little, “hi y/n, it’s good to see you!”

“am i just chopped liver up here?” chris jokes from the front seat.

“oh god no! hi chris!” you exclaim. the boys just laugh softly at your happiness. at a red light matt turns around and looks at you, “y/n i have a sweatshirt somewhere back there if you want it.”

you smile at him, “awww thank you matty!” you find the light gray sweatshirt on the floor by your feet and slip it on, smelling the familiar scent of his cologne that tends to linger in your sheets.

you arrive at your house, and matt walks you to the door. he reaches around the potted plant that sits on your doorstep and grabs the hidden key. “oh my god, i forgot i told you about that!” you say as he unlocks the door for you, smiling at your not so sober state. he then helps you take your makeup off and even helps unzip your dress.

“thank you matty, i love you,” you mutter out as you start to doze off, snuggled in the sheets with matt’s hoodie loosely hugging your body.

matt’s cheeks turn a bright shade of pink at your words, and he wishes he could say it back but he’s much rather wait until you’re sober so you can remember it. “goodnight y/n, i’m sorry i upset you earlier. but i’m gonna make you mine, i promise,” he whispers as he places a gentle kiss on your temple and shuts of the lights.

he locks up your house and heads back to the car, where his brothers sit with a million questions, but they can tell now is not a good time to ask. so they don’t.

—

it’s now late the next day, and you’re finally recovering from your hangover when you get a text from matt.

matty | are u home? i wanna take you somewhere

y/n! | yeah i’m home. everything okay?

matty | i’ll be there in 5

you immediately jump out of bed and rush to put on at least a little mascara and change out of your pajamas into something a little less wrinkled and lazy.

you get into matt’s car and look at him with a puzzled, but happy, look. “so can i ask what’s up?”

“i wanna take you somewhere first before i tell you. but how are you feeling?”

you can’t help but laugh a little, “god i regret my choices last night. i drank way too much.”

“yeah i could tell,” he chuckles.

“thank you so much for taking me home, by the way. i really really appreciate it.”

“always, y/n.”

a few minutes later you guys arrive at a park and matt tells you to stay in the car while he grabs a few things from the trunk. he then walks off into the park and tells you to not look until he comes back to get you, so that’s exactly what you do.

“alright m’lady, come with me!” he laughs as he takes your hand and leads you out of the car and to a small picnic set up.

“matt oh my god! you did not!” you gasp, turning to him with a big smile.

“oh but i did,” he smiles as he sits down on the blanket.

“matt! this is the cutest thing anyone’s ever done for me!” you pout, hugging him gently as you sit down. you guys get settled before he takes your hand in his.

“alright well, the whole reason i did this was because last night you and i got into a little argument. i don’t know if you remember, but you had told me off for keeping this entire thing a secret and admitted your feelings for me. and i just wanted to say that i really, really like you a lot too, so i wanted to make this official. i’m so tired of having to hide you, i wanna show you off. so will you be my girlfriend?”

your heart flutters, and you immediately nod your head before kissing his lips softly.

“so i’m taking that as a yes?” matt chuckles.

“of course matt!”

“good, i’m glad. i’m so glad that i get to publicly call you mine. it’s better that way.”

#matthew sturniolo fluff #matthew sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo angst #matt sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x you

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howling-medic · 2 months ago

Text

Impertinence

Summary: Five times Pippin call Aragorn Strider in places he shouldn't, and the one time he didn't. With an epilogue and bonus snippet because I couldn't leave it where it ended. This is entirely unbeta'd. All mistakes are mine and mine alone.

A/N: Holy shit. This was kind of a beast to write. I also wrote it mostly while on shift, so I'm really hoping I caught all my mistakes, and it's mostly decent. I am not sure how happy with this I am, but I think it is as good as I am going to get it. If I keep agonizing over it, I'll never sleep today. So, up it goes. Also, I am too lazy to make this into multiple chapters right now. Maybe one day I will, but it is not this day. For now, there are headers at the start of each section

This whole thing came about because I mentioned to someone that I want Fourth Age content because I wanted to see Pippin being a little shit in court, and I was told emphatically that Pippin would clearly grow up and behave himself. I think that's insane. Pippin is a socially skilled class clown with a high level of intelligence. He also has zero regard for authority figures. So I wrote a whole fic about how much of a dork Pippin is and how Aragorn adores that dork - even if he a giant pain in his ass.

TW: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, angst, sadness, heartbreak, mentions of alcohol

WC: 7562 words (This was never intended to be this long, y'all.)

Making An Entrance

“Strider!” The shout cut through the den of the courtyard of the Citadel. King Elessar sighed fondly and turned to find Pippin jogging towards him in his road dirtied court attire. In the past two years Aragorn had learned one thing: every time the young hobbit came back to court, he would call the King by his old moniker in public at least once. Usually more. As with each time, everyone in the vicinity turned to search for the source of the disrespect to their monarch.

“Thrain Took,” Aragorn called in greeting. At the use of his title, Pippin’s ears went pink, and Aragorn laughed at the sight of the very moment the young hobbit realized his mistake. To the utter shock of any in the area who did know of Pippin or the story of the name Strider, including the Harad emissaries who had come to discuss a new trade agreement, Aragorn knelt to welcome his friend with a warm embrace. “How are you my dear friend? How was your journey?”

“Ach, I am as well as ever! The road was long, but certainly shorter than my first journey here.” Pippin was about to launch into a long winded tale of the trip and all those he and Merry saw along the way, as well as all the doings of The Shire. Aragorn could see it in the hobbit’s eyes. Just before he could open his mouth, Aragorn interjected, “And I cannot wait to hear all you wish to share. I am certain we have much to discuss politically and personally, but I do not wish to keep you from getting a bite and a bath, so go freshen yourself. Then come to my quarters for dinner.”

Pippin glanced over Aragorn’s shoulder and saw the assembled group of men waiting on his liege to return, and then he looked back to Aragorn. His lips pressed into a thin line. The group of Harad dignitaries looked utterly aghast at his apparent impudence. Aragorn shrugged nearly imperceptibly and rolled his eyes, at which Pippin’s face lit up anew. “As you wish, Strider.” Aragorn barked out a startled laugh and shook his head.

“Fool of a Took,” he murmured and rose to return to the Harad behind him. “Gentlemen, where were we?”

“You accept such disrespect from a creature so small? Was that a child?” One of the men asked while his eyes followed the retreating form of Pippin.

“That,” Aragorn said in a voice still light with laughter while watching Pippin disappear inside the Citadel, “Was a hobbit of more renown and valor than you could imagine. His name is Peregrin Took. He is the Thrain of the Shire, and a Knight of the Citadel. He was also one of the nine of the Fellowship of the Ring. He, the others of that party, and the Thrain’s kin are the only people from whom I accept that name. So no, my lord, I suffer no disrespect, nor was that a child.” The laughter in Aragorn’s voice died, and he turned back to the group before him. “I would advise you to not disrespect hobbits in this court - particularly those who were a part of the Fellowship. They are much beloved by myself, my household, and this land.” The three assembled emissaries took a collective half step back. Looking at each of the three in turn, Aragorn found his humor and patience was spent. Silent judgment and covert murmurs about his patience with Pippin he could handle, but the incredulity in this man’s voice with no knowledge of what he spoke, of who he spoke, was not something Aragorn could not abide. “I believe we are done with negotiations for today.” He broke off for the briefest of moments and pushed aside the temptation to put these three men, the truly impudent ones in this situation, in their place in favor of remaining diplomatic. “Let us resume tomorrow for I desire to inquire after Thrain Took’s companion, Meriadoc, and hear the news of a region of my land from which I receive very little.”

“My lord,” they said in unison.

Aragorn took his leave. As he turned, he caught their shared look of disbelief. “Strider?” he heard one ask. “Hobbits?” another asked. “Strange land and a strange people,” the final man declared. Aragorn chuckled. Once again, he was going to have to have a word with Pippin. No matter how much more he loathed the Harads’ words, Pippin had to watch around whom he spoke in such a manner. Even if Aragorn wished it was not so.

However, later that evening as Aragorn entered the sitting room of the Royal Apartments, the earnest look of joy Aragorn saw in Pippin’s eyes when he exclaimed the name - the one given to him by an innkeeper that Aragorn once loathed - stayed his tongue. With a sigh of relief, the High King of the Reunited Kingdom lifted the winged crown from his head and placed it upon the black velvet cushion on a side table that was as near to the door as possible without blocking it. Then he did away with the heavy blue velvet cloak adorned with the crest of the House of Telcontar selected by his attendants specifically for his meeting with the Harad dignitaries. “Strider indeed, my friend,” Aragorn said with a fond chuckle. “You truly will never let that name remain in the past, will you?”

“Why ever would I?” Pippin asked. His brows furrowed in earnest confusion. “It is the name I first knew you by, and someone has to keep you grounded and your head from flying away with those wings you wear.”

Aragorn laughed. It started as a choked back sound of surprise and devolved into a truly uproarious, booming laugh. So few dared to speak to him in such a manner that it was refreshing to hear such cheek. “Verily, and I suppose one so close to the ground would be just the person to do so?”

“Precisely! I am glad you understand!” Pippin beamed up Aragorn with mirth and mischief dancing in his eyes that spelled nothing but trouble. The Ranger of the North could not find it within himself to fret over it.

Of Hobbits and Their Food

“Strider! Do not be absurd!” Pippin cried with his hands thrown up in exasperation. Aragorn resisted the urge to let his head fall to the wooden table before him. The assembled council looked in utter disbelief at the impudent hobbit in their midst. The annual meeting discussing each region’s harvest dragged on well past lunch and was showing no signs of stopping - despite the originally listed eleven o'clock end time for the meeting. Several regions’ summers had been unusually dry, and The Shire’s harvest outperformed all others. As a solution, one of Aragorn’s advisors proposed requisitioning a small portion of its grains and preservable legumes to help offset the dearth from the other areas of Gondor. Pippin was displeased with the notion, to say the least, and turned that displeasure to Aragorn. The King sat with his fingers steepled on the table. It was logical, but many hobbits viewed ‘Big Folks’ with intense weariness. Declaring a portion of their harvest the property of the crown would only validate that weariness and breed resentment in a fledgling political relationship. The crown was meant to protect that vulnerable region, not pilfer from them. Yet, his other territories were in a precarious position with meager stores to last the winter.

Of all the times and days to use the old nickname, this was the least ideal. Years with poor harvests led to contentious, and frequently panicked, fall assemblies of regional Lords. This assembly included many from outlying communities who did not frequently make it to court. Protesting a proposal was one thing. An outburst that - given their ignorance to the background of the familiar title - would appear to these Lords as impudence was another. Impudence they would perceive as tolerated by their King, which they would likely take to mean their King lacked control of his troops and court. Aragorn could feel every eye in the room trained on him, awaiting a response. Awaiting his rebuke to the comment.

“Nothing has been decided Thrain Took,” Aragorn responded coldly. The emphasis he placed on Pippin’s title drew smirks from several Lords. Pippin did not flinch.

The ever genial hobbits looked back at his friend with narrowed eyes. An unmeasured emotional outburst may have drawn the name from Pippin, but he showed no signs of being cowed that easily. “My apologies, Lord,” Pippin said bitterly. Aragorn suppressed a sigh of defeat and smile simultaneously.

“State your case for reserving your resources. It is only right we hear your rebuttal after hearing the argument for requisitioning some of your bounty.” Aragorn’s tone took a more neutral tone. Arguments could remain behind closed doors - in places where the defiant nature of his friend would not raise eyebrows. Now was the time to draw an already overlong meeting to a close without further incident, so Aragorn could rein in his frustration for the time being.

Pippin spoke eloquently of the need to keep The Shire’s resources within and not dispersing them, his tone turning to a dispassionate recitation of facts and history. He outlined the way they often support outlying communities like Bree and the general distrust nearly all the ‘shire folk felt’ of any situation where resources were taken in such a manner following Saruman’s abuse and subjugation. It was a persuasive case that Pippin would not have possessed the maturity to articulate five years ago when Aragorn met him in the Prancing Pony or four years ago when the hobbit first rode back to his home. The spirit and fierce protectiveness of his kin was the same, but the ability to debate over argue was a new development that Aragorn felt privileged to have witnessed. The inability to relinquish the old moniker of Strider in public seemed an enduring habit, however.

Lunch was sent for as soon as the King left the meeting hall. Pippin sat before him with defiance radiating off him in waves. The look in his eyes was so similar to that which Aragorn saw in Rivendell when Elrond attempted to send Merry and Pippin back to the Shire instead of with the Fellowship that it nearly made him laugh at the old memory. Almost. “Peregrin Took,” Aragorn started, “We have had this conversation before.”

“Yes, and I have told you before that I am not likely to ever truly change. I may be older, and I may have fancy titles, but I am still no more than a hobbit from the Shire.”

“Is that so? Are you not a knight of the citadel and a member of this court? The designated ambassador from your land and representative of your people?” Aragorn asked, voice stern and lacking any of the humor with which he typically spoke to his friend. Even in their most heated political debates and spirited debate over old history, neither were prone to harsh tones.

“Aye, I may be, but I am still simple folk. Unschooled in court and prone to gaffs.” Pippin’s protest held no water, and he knew it. Five years of serving in the court as Thrain of the Shire left him well schooled in court affairs - even if he traded on his humble, rural appearance and accent frequently in court dealings.

“You know it causes a stir throughout the whole of the court each time you do that?” Aragorn asked sharply. “It reflects on how I manage my advisors and troops. I know things change slowly in The Shire, if they change at all, but are you so incapable of change yourself? Can you do as your King and liege lord commands in this, if you won’t do it for your friend?”

Pippin visibly deflated as Aragorn spoke. His shoulders drooped and his eyes fell to the cluttered desk before him. “Aye, Strider. That I can do. So long as I can still call you as I ever think of you out of earshot of those who fuss about such odd things.” Aragorn softened then. As I ever think of you. The simple statement drew a lopsided smile to his face that was reminiscent of the first night he met Pippin in Bree, the one that played across his face each time the four hobbits impressed him with their boldness in the face of fear and peril and each time they showed their heart and wisdom along their long journey. “Do you still see old Strider in me? You did once promise to ground me in that version of myself, did you not?”

“That I did, and that I do. You may wear fancy clothes and bathe regularly now, so your old rascally look is gone, but that does not mean you are not the rascal I first met. How many times do I have to tell you this?”

“I dare say it will be many times yet in the years we spend together. I find less and less of the Ranger in myself each day I spend in these stone halls.” “Do you not sneak out anymore? Slip past your guards and flee to the woods?” Pippin asked.

“Not in many months. I have been tied to this desk long into the night, and when I am not I am with the little ones. It also seems that many people who have no right to an opinion on the matter feel rather strongly that I ought not to ever be anywhere without a guard.”

“Would it please my lord to escape this evening then?”

“Did we not just say that we need not use titles away from listening ears?” Aragorn inquired through a laugh.

“That we did, but I am still an ass and a Fool of a Took after these many years. I shall do as I please behind closed doors and do as you please beyond them,” Pippin answered simply and grinned.

“I suppose I can abide that,” Aragorn replied and fell silent for a moment. “I do believe an escape into the woods sounds like a wonderful idea - plus none can protest that I will be unprotected with a Knight of Gondor at my side.”

“Excellent! Then let's settle the matter of the Shire’s crops, so we have no work to haggle over while we are beneath the stars…Strider.”

Feasts are for celebrating

It was the Midsummer’s Feast, and all the remaining members of The Fellowship, their spouses, Éomer, Lothíriel, Éowyn, and Faramir sat at the head table. A few notable dignitaries from Aglarond and Legolas’s kin in Ithilien had also been designated seats of honor with the tightly knit group of nobility. Eight years into the Fourth Age left the lands prosperous and healing. Areas that had long since not seen inhabitants were being rebuilt. Maps were being redrawn with each passing year because they lacked new settlements. That was a struggle all were thrilled to have.

Eight years of retelling stories, however, meant they only still possessed roots in the truth. With each new recitation details were exaggerated anew. Drama was added. Some events were simply fabricated from nowhere. Some were far guiltier of these transgressions than others. Pippin was fairly notorious throughout the Reunited Realm for embellishments - especially when the wine and ale flowed freely as it did at feasts. As it was at this Midsummer’s Feast. “Strider! Strider!” Pippin called from halfway down the table. The guests of honor from abroad, who were seated next to Pipped, gaped at the hobbit who had already shared many fascinating tales that evening. “I was rather indisposed with dancing and singing, and you were the only one with Frood at the time in the Prancing Pony. Could you tell us the story of what you saw - or didn’t see, for that matter - in the tavern when he disappeared? These lovely gentlemen from Aglarond have not heard that story yet, seeing as we had not yet met Gimli!”

Each person well acquainted with Pippin, and his propensity to forget proper etiquette, looked around the table and then to Aragorn. Every feast it happened eventually, no matter how many times Pippin was lectured, and each time his friends reacted the same. Aragorn was beginning to wonder if Pippin acted as he did simply to get a rise out of those around him. Someone has to keep you grounded and your head from flying away with those wings you wear echoed in Aragorn’s mind as he watched the familiar sight of the friends he called family react anew to Pippin’s antics. Faramir grumbled something incoherent into his glass of wine, for which Éowyn promptly kicked his shin. Éomer snorted out a rather undignified choked laugh. Lothíriel glared at him. Merry groaned into his hands to muffle the sound. Legolas pressed his lips into a thin line to hide a smile. Sam shook his head in dismay. Rosie giggled into her napkin. Gimli had no such compunctions and chuckled rather loudly. Diamond sighed and looked apologetically at Arwen. Arwen visibly fought back laughter. Aragorn, donning the Winged Crown and Star of Elendil, pinched the bridge of his nose, sighed, and proceeded to give a full recount of the events in the Prancing Pony the first night he met the hobbits. That retelling quickly led to several more tales shared - and debated. Tales of travels and battles, and all the embarrassing mishaps and pranks along the way. The formality of the night quickly devolved, and strict court manners gradually faded from each of the friends.

After a few more glasses of wine and ale, Pippin was far from the only one at the table who had their fun at the expense of the King sitting at the head of the table. Merry recounted the time Aragorn “mercilessly taunted me while I was ailing in the Houses of Healing! I had just stabbed the Witch King himself, if you’ll believe it, and here was my friend telling me I had lost my gear that was sitting by the bed the whole time!” Gimli and Legolas shared many tales of their time as ‘The Three Hunters’. The one that earned Gimli the most laughter was the abject horror of being awoken well before dawn only for Aragorn to lay himself flat on the ground for “nearly a whole age of men” to declare many horses were nearby…only for Legolas to be able to see them on the horizon and correctly count them. Éomer was all too happy to chime in that Legolas had been only three riders off on his count, before adding his own note on how he nearly killed all three of them on sight. He then apologized to Merry and Pippin, for easily the hundredth time, for almost inadvertently killing them while killing the band of orcs who had captured them.

By the end of the night, King Elessar doffed his ceremonial headwear and pulled out his pipe. Once he lit it, he tossed a bag of pipeweed to Pippin with a grin and a nod. The court gaped at the King who had turned into a Ranger before their eyes, though many who had seen this mood take their Lord before just chuckled. Aragorn looked around and grinned. They could gape and murmur, for this night was a celebration of all that had been hard won, and the uncouth and unendingly frustrating hobbit gesturing wildly while telling all there was to know of the Battle of Isengard and the Final March of the Ents won much of their bounty back for them. Tonight needed no lecture.

Joyous News

Nearly silent feet padded down the hallway outside Aragorn’s office. Had Aragorn not spent several decades around hobbits, and a decade listening for that sound in his own palace, he never would have heard it. Pippin had been in Minas Tirith for only two days, and mischief was already afoot apparently. “Stri-” Pippin started and skidded to a halt, and his jaw snapped shut. “My Lord,” he began again and then addressed the Captain- General standing before Aragorn’s desk. “My sincerest apologies to you both,” he mumbled. Glee still danced in the hobbit’s eyes despite the faint hue of pink on his cheeks. “I will come back later. I did not mean to interrupt.”

“Peregrin,” the officer said and gestured him into the office, “join us. There is clearly news to be shared. Do not let me keep you from it.”

“Sire, please. I mean no offense, but this is news I need to tell Str- King Elessar alone.” Pippin caught himself midway through the old nickname. When he did, he looked up at Aragorn rather abashedly - the pink dusting to his cheeks darkening. Rarely did Pippin truly feel shame for breaking proper court etiquette, but breaking rank in front of his superior military officers was one of few things for which he felt ashamed, however. His place within the army was more ceremonial than anything else at this point, but he drilled each time he came to court and practiced with any those he could at home. It was a matter of pride that he maintained his skills. The practice of going through his drills kept the memory of Boromir alive, and Pippin meant to honor his promise to Denethor to serve Gondor until his dying breath in repayment of his debt for Boromir’s death.

Aragorn sighed and rose from his seat. He was not escaping the back and forth of deference that was brewing between these two. Pippin had already derailed the meeting and taken the focus off the report of Southrond raiding parties harrying several outlying communities. “Captain-General, if you would please excuse us for the briefest of moments. Clearly something urgent of a personal nature has come up, but I will return shortly.” Aragorn’s voice was tight, but he motioned towards the side door that led to a private side room off the office. Pippin shuffled in behind Aragorn. The embarrassment at his multiple slips of the tongue were gone from Pippin’s face when Aragorn turned to face him. All that remained was a grin that stretched from ear to ear. “What on all of Arda is going on? And did no page or guard inform you I was in a meeting?” Aragorn asked.

“Well, as for pages and guards…no, but I did not really give them a chance to stop me either, for all my excitement.” “Then out with it, man!” Aragorn laughed, shaking his head with disbelief and amusement alike. His aggravation was quickly waning in the face of Pippin’s delight.

“I’m going to be a father! Diamond is pregnant!” Pippin exclaimed.

The Captain-General standing on the other side of the thin wall with his urgent report no longer held even a fraction of his importance as he had moments before. Aragorn dropped to his knees to embrace Pippin. Aragorn’s lingering annoyance at the interruption and Pippin’s continued struggle to keep the name Strider behind closed doors was forgotten. “Well, that is a worthy reason to interrupt a meeting - and a reason to celebrate!”

“I would say so! Though, had I known you were otherwise engaged, I would have at least waited in the hall. It’s not as though the bairn is not going anywhere just yet.”

“No, indeed, but I will gladly be interrupted for joyous news, my good hobbit.” Aragorn looked to the door and then back to Pippin. “I have to hear this last report, but go find Arwen and Diamond. I think we are all done working for the day. It is time to celebrate a new generation of Tooks.” As Pippin turned to leave, Aragorn added, “But Pippin, you have to let the staff stop you next time even if I welcome interruptions for good news - and please, after ten years, stop calling me Strider while we are working.”

“As you wish, Strider!” Pippin called halfway out the door. Aragorn groaned and shook his head, gesturing for the Captain-General to take the seat across from the desk.

“Do not ask, for I have neither the time nor the energy to explain,” Aragorn said in answer to the inquisitive look the man gave him.

Infrastructure of the Fourth Age

“It will never work, Strider,” Pippin interrupted in the middle of Aragorn’s explanation of his plan to dig new wells in the lower levels and outlying communities surrounding Minas Tirith as the city’s population outgrew the confines of its walls - and the limits of their water supply. Most of the assembled advisors, craftsmen, and lords present were well used to the behavior of the Thrain of the Shire. However, Several were not, and they looked wide eyed between the King and his Knight. Aragorn looked at the ceiling as though he expected to find an answer to the riddle of Pippin’s behavior there. There was none. Strictly speaking, he was not even needed or invited to this meeting, but he had a habit of poking his head into court sessions that were not pertinent to his duties or position.

“Thrain Took. Please. I welcome your thoughts and opinions, but I cannot abide your interruptions or use of familiar names during council meetings. We have discussed this at length,” Aragorn said sternly once he looked back at the hobbit and after a long sigh.

“My apologies, your majesty, but I do not beg your pardon. You cannot hold this old hobbit at fault. I simply forget myself in my advanced age,” Pippin said. The room stilled. Aragorn laughed despite himself. At one point, he hoped and expected Pippin to mellow as he aged, but the opposite proved to be the case. Each year the hobbit became bolder, but he was savvier about it. There were few times, however, where he sounded much like his younger self.

“I have heard that excuse before from an old hobbit in Rivendell who blamed senility for gaffs. I did not believe him then, just as I do not believe you now,” Aragorn said and smirked.

“You may choose to believe me or not as you wish,” Pippin said with a shrug, “but that does not change the fact that I think this plan is entirely foolish and ill conceived - and I agreed to march on the Black Gates with you. And that was a plan with near certainty of death and small chance of success. This, I would wager, has no chance of success.” A few of the younger people in attendance gasped. Most of the older council members laughed under their breath. Pippin matched Aragorn’s smirk and did not flinch. This was the level of pointed discussion they reserved for Aragorn’s study and had over a bottle of wine. However, Aragorn had not shared this plan with Pippin - as it truly was not a plan that impacted the hobbit in any fashion, nor did it seem a plan that would interest him. Apparently, he should have.

“And do you have another suggestion then, Thrain Took?”

“As a matter of fact, yes,” Pippin declared in a smug tone with a grin to match. “We just had to manage the exact same issue in Hobbiton - granted we lack the many levels and such owing to most hobbits not even handling homes with second stories well, let alone a city of multiple levels with buildings of even more levels - but good ol’ Merry and some of Legolas’ elves came up with a brilliant way to reroute some of the water from the Brandywine to make new distributaries! I think we may need to do the same here.”

“And why would wells not work as they always have?” Aragorn challenged, but his words held no heat, nor did he ask unkindly. There was an elegance to the idea Pippin was proposing, and Aragorn was keen to hear it. Now came to the political jockeying needed to sell opposition to one of Pippin’s less tactical rebukes of a plan proposed by Aragorn. “How in the world do you think you are going to find new well sites that nobody in the history of this city has found? Are you going to go digging up roads all over the first and second level? No. You most certainly aren’t. Instead you can reroute some small distributaries off the Anduin to create a water source in the outlying communities and then work with Gimli and the other dwarves of Aglarond on a system for running that source up to the first and second levels. They have to have a system for it in their caves.”

“Master Thrain,” Aragorn said flatly.

“Yes, my lord?” Pippin asked.

“I am commissioning you back into my service for this project. You are now the lead on it. But, Peregrin, do not interrupt me like that or address me so in any of the meetings on it again.”

“I shall do as my lord bids me,” Pippin said. The smug grin on his face had never faded for a moment. The old members of the council rolled their eyes, and the young ones still gaped at him. Aragorn sighed and shook his head once again.

Sounds You Miss

Years dragged on and Aragorn found the gift of his long life became a curse once again. His friends were aging before his eyes while he stayed ever young. Sam sailed after Rosie passed away. Éomer died in the autumn two years before. The men of Aragorn’s guard when he first took the throne were dead or fading before his eyes. Their sons served him now. This was not the first generation of men that had passed before his eyes, but this was the first he had spent the majority of in one place, the first he tied himself to closely.

Aragorn sat upon his throne and attempted to focus on the day’s open court. Truly, he put a valiant effort towards it, but his mind refused to bend to his will. The citizens of Gondor brought their woes, struggles, and strife to him once a week - more often if he could manage it- and he always listened intently. He did his best to resolve each issue that came before him, and he was known for his attentiveness and benevolence amongst his subjects. Today he simply could not manage to keep his focus trained upon the proceedings. It was instead in the building nearly directly below him where Merry and Pippin had resided for some time now. Neither were well. The ravages of age spared none of the mortal beings of Middle Earth, no matter how desperately those who would outlive them wished it to be otherwise. Their aged bodies looked like shadows of the young hobbits Aragorn had once known. Merry struggled to use his right arm no matter how Aragorn strove to heal it. Pippin fared far worse. His lungs failed him frequently, and his knees plagued him with pain. Despite it all, they still insisted on coming up to the citadel for nearly every meal, and their spirits were high as ever. Age and weariness could not diminish those, nor could it quiet their laughter. Withered as he was, Pippin continued to be as unruly as in his youth. Except for the past few days. Of late, He seemed distant - like he had one foot beyond this land.

Heavy boots thundered down the hallway towards the throne room. Aragorn tensed. All eyes turned to face the source of the sound. Eldarion came to a skidding halt before his father. He faced King Elessar red in the face and panting. “Pippin?” Aragorn asked. His voice was already thick and choked with tears. His son need not answer. Lest peril had befallen his siblings or mother, there was nothing that would have made him run so. All the same, Eldarion nodded. Aragorn rose slowly from his seat and composed himself enough that he hoped his voice would not shake. “Court is adjourned for the day.” His voice held an air of finality which none dared defy. “Please see the Master of Ceremony on your way out, and he will take note of that which you came to address. When I am able, I will review all issues submitted. Now I must attend to a matter that I fear cannot wait.” With instructions given, Aragorn stepped down from the throne and moved as hastily as he could without looking entirely undignified through the crowd of subjects, but as soon as he was out of sight of the main hallways and corridors, he was running.

The air in Bair Nestad felt stifling. There was a tension that could have been sliced through by a sword. Every healer stepped aside wordlessly and bowed their heads as Aragorn made his way to Pippin’s room. Typically, he was greeted with warm smiles entering this space, and not infrequently he offered aid or advice. Not this day, however. The scene that greeted Aragorn on the other side of the door brought him up short. Merry - old and stiff as he was - was seated cross legged on the too big bed. Tears ran silently down his cheeks while he dabbed at Pippin’s forehead with a wet towel. The younger hobbit’s face was pale. Far paler than he had been even the night before. A cough had plagued him for weeks, but he had continued to claim all was well. Now his lips had gone blue. Even the sound of heavy footsteps did not rouse Pippin. “The fever took him in the night. Didn’t tell a soul,” Merry said without prompting, “he can’t catch his breath anymore.”

At the sound of Merry’s voice, Pippin’s eyes opened slowly. His gaze was unfocused and distant until he saw Aragorn. At the sight, his face broke into a weak smile, but before he could say a word a coughing fit that wracked his entire frail body overtook him. “Let me go fetch some herbs. We can treat the fever and soothe the cough,” Aragorn began, but Pippin shook his head with what little strength he could muster.

“There is nothing left to try,” he croaked. His voice was so faint that it could barely be heard even in the silent room. “Just come sit with me, my old friend.” Aragorn sighed. Every part of him yearned to fight the invisible foe that plagued Pippin. This was no battle that could be won with Andúril, nor yet by all the trainings of Elrond in the days of his youth. This battle was the same one that destroyed the Númenoreans and nearly decimated Gondor itself. It was one with no victory. The battle against time and age.

“As you wish,” Aragorn answered reluctantly after several seconds.

Aragorn sat beside Pippin for hours. There was idle chatter here and there. Sometimes with Merry while Pippin slept. Every once and a while, he would wake, and the three friends would recount the old days, rather Merry and Aragorn retold Pippin’s favorite stories to him with Pippin correcting them when they forgot the fabrications he added over the years. Eldarion and all those who had come to love the Thrain over the years came by to say their goodbyes. The King never left his Knight’s side. Eventually Pippin let him send for Athelas to ease the pain that came with each coughing fit. It comforted all who sat vigil, and the tension lessened in Pippin’s face while it brewed beside him. The room smelled of the woods of The Shire, and when Pippin first smelled it, he smiled and sighed. “Home…would that I could see it once more.”

“Maybe you can, Pip! We might be able to take one last grand adventure yet!” Merry tried to make the words sound hopeful, but they came out hollow.

“I think the only adventure that awaits me, old Merry, is whatever comes next. If you do make it back to The Shire, tell Faramir I love him for me. I’ll tell Sam and Frodo ‘hello’ for you, when I get wherever I am going - if they ever went there, that is.” Pippin’s words were weak.

With each time he woke, his gaze became more distant. Both Merry and Aragorn clung tightly to his hands as though they could keep their friend with them for even a few extra moments if they just held on tight enough.

“Merry lad,” Pippin murmured at length.

“Yeah, Pip?”

“I don’t know if I ever thanked Treebeard for making me the tallest hobbit on record. Could you do that for me, please?” Both Merry and Aragorn laughed through the tears rolling down their cheeks.

“I think I can manage that, but I think he knows you are grateful to him for it. Don’t worry about that just now.”

“I wish I could see him again. Him and Quickbeam. They are such odd fellows. And Bombadill. We never would have made it home without them.”

“We will make sure they all know they were on your mind,” Aragorn said gently and had to swallow down the lump forming in his throat.

“We never could have made it home without you either, and to think we almost didn’t trust you to go with us at all.”

“Well, don’t go counting me in that tally, Pip. I wasn’t there to not trust him, remember?” Pippin laughed. The sound came out more as a wheeze that caused him to start coughing once more. His lips were even more blue than when Aragorn first reached the Houses of Healing, and Pippin’s fingers were cold in his hand. “But I won’t fight your revisions - just this one time,” Merry added as an afterthought.

“Our King and protector from the day we met you,” Pippin said. A smile graced his features, and for just one last moment Aragorn could see the young hobbit that asked him about second breakfast, and then Pippin’s eyes fell closed for the final time. The name Strider seemed to hang in the air, but Aragorn never heard it again.

Epilogue:

Pippin laid in state for a week. Tradition stated he be laid to rest in his uniform, but Merry insisted he wear his favorite coat and scarf, and so it was. At Aragorn’s insistence, Pippin��s livery lay folded at his feet to carry his honor with him wherever this last journey took him. Aragorn would not dream of laying Pippin to rest in his uniform either. He was a hobbit of The Shire foremost and a soldier second, but he fought valiantly. He needed that honor to stay with him. His sword, in true warrior’s fashion, was placed upon his breast. It was an odd picture: the bright colors of a hobbit’s traditional dress paired with the barrow blade. It felt fitting for the hobbit who caused trouble everywhere he went. Aragorn could think of nothing that would bring Pippin more joy than to know he caused a ruckus in court even in his death.

Mourners lined up all the way down to the fifth level to bid farewell to Ernîl Pheriannath. Each day the queue would begin at sunrise, and each day they came to lay flowers at the base of the bed upon which he rested and say their final goodbyes. A mere few hours before Pippin’s funeral, Aragorn stood before him. Aragorn wore no royal finery - hadn’t since he returned to his chambers from Bair Nestad - instead he wore the same clothes he wore the very first night he met the hobbits in Bree. The coat had more patches and the shirt was more threadbare than that night, but it mattered not. They were more treasured to Aragorn than any ceremonial tunic and cloak. No other hand mended them, not even Arwen. Now more than ever before they felt sacred. A last anchor to the Ranger of the North to which Pippin swore to serve as anchor.

Each time Aragorn thought he could cry no more tears, more welled in his eyes. Now he wept openly. The sobs rang off the stone walls. It was not the first time in the past week he found himself in this position. The first night Merry found him there, and they cried together. When there were no tears left in either of them, they took a bottle of elven wine to the outer wall and drank and shared stories until the sun rose.

This night nobody came, and Aragorn was glad for it. Anger held his heart as much as grief. Blessed with long life, they said. It was no blessing to watch nearly all he held dear fade before his eyes. It was a curse greater than any he could fathom. There were only so many friends one man could lay to rest and watch sail away from him. Each time Aragorn stood before a crowd and spoke of the courageous deeds of those he fought beside and journeyed with it felt like his world shrunk that much more. Pippin left the world far smaller than his small stature accounted for and quieter than Aragorn could have ever predicted. At each turn he expected to hear “Strider!” called from down the hall followed by the sound of small bare feet slapping the stone.

With a shaky step, Aragorn stepped up to Pippin. For just a moment, Aragorn saw the hobbit as he was during the War of the Ring: a young hobbit asleep in a bed roll who needed to be roused for another day on the march. A simpler time - albeit infinitely more perilous. A time before Aragorn wore the weight of the winged crown. “Strider I shall ever remain, my dear hobbit, ere I draw my last breath. I shall not let the wings of my crown fly me away from my roots.”

Bonus:

Aragorn never experienced the Sea Longing of the elves, but he knew when it was time to lay himself down for his final rest. His body did not move as it once did, and he was weary. This world no longer held him like it once did. When the time came, he said his goodbyes and felt no regrets. Arwen asked one last time for him to say, but Middle Earth was no longer his home. Aragorn had given every piece of himself to it. To saving it. Rebuilding it. Nurturing it. Growing it. His time had come to an end. When Aragorn shut his eyes for the last time, rest took him quickly, and at last he was at peace.

He tried to roll over and shield himself from the light to sleep a few more minutes, but then his mind caught up to what he had just done. Aragorn’s eyes snapped open, and he was forced to blink against the brightness until his eyes adjusted to light around him. It seemed to have no clear source. He was laying in an unfamiliar bed. The room was nondescript and unadorned with no windows. Aragorn sat on the edge of the bed, assessing the situation. An open door faced him with an even brighter hallway beyond it. With no other clear option, he slid on the boots beside him. The feel of the old leather brought a smile to his face. Then he grabbed the familiar green leather jacket laying on the end of the bed, and walked out into the hallway.

One end of the hall was a dead end and the other was the source of all the light. It was a blindingly bright glow that obscured any terminus. Aragorn faced it and concluded that was the only way he was supposed to go. With a sigh, he set out to whatever lay beyond. As he neared the light, it resolved into a large, open corridor with many hallways branching off of it. Aragorn looked from one direction to the other and froze. His eyes flitted from side to side. Anxiety seized him. Just as he was about to choose a direction at random, the sound of small, bare, running feet came echoing down the hall on his left. Aragorn froze. He refused to feel hopeful. Refused to look. “Strider!” a familiar voice cried from his left. Aragorn’s breath caught in his throat. Fifty three years he had waited to hear that voice say the name that had hung in the air since after he died. “Strider!” he called again, and Aragorn turned to see Pippin barreling towards him at a pace the hobbit had not been able to run for many years. He looked just as he had that first night in Bree down to his jacket and scarf.

“Pippin,” Aragorn sobbed and fell to his knees just in time to catch Pippin in his arms. “My dear, dear hobbit. How I have missed hearing you call that name.”

“Did you manage to stay firmly on the ground, or did those wings you wore fly you away? I hoped I reminded you who you are enough times before I left you, but I have fretted a few times that I didn’t quite do enough.”

Aragorn shuffled back from Pippin enough to take a good look at him and shook his head in disbelief. “You did plenty enough to remind me who I am, but I hope I never have to go without hearing you call my name - whichever you want at any time and in any place - ever again.”

“Well, you are in luck, Strider. As it turns out, we hobbits go the same place men do, and everyone is waiting for you.”

A/N: So I made myself cry like 17 times writing the last parts of this thing. I apologize for the pain, but I hope you enjoyed!

///////////////////////////Tagging those who liked my original post//////////////////

@wisheduponastar

@stayindraw

@randalekobolt

@emmbethsstuff

@salivary-gland

@softboiledwonderland

@denerturee

@thetempleofthemasaigoddess

@xkingevelynx

@mysterious-dark-blue-ocean

@hastyhobbit

@elenna-elrondiel

@gentlegentian

@crazymissbaggins

@thelittletobsterthatcould

@scholarlyhobbit

@unwordy

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yuugen-benni · 1 year ago

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''Not a Father's Day''

When your husband gets a baby fever TAGS: Childe x reader, the word ''sex'' appear only once, mentions of pregnancy (yes I'm breaking my own rule), Modern AU A/N: This is based on ''How I met your mother'' T4 E7, and I'M OBSESSED WITH THE HEADER PLUSHIE AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Guys, when you get married remember, Marriage has three stages:

Stage number 1: Teen era Even after you've known each other for years and years, almost tried to kill each other, and probably seen you both naked, you'll act like teenagers in their prime. You know, teasing, blushing for any reason, sex in the most inopportune places, those things that one day you will remember and feel ashamed of yourself.

Stage number 2 - Finding out The part of the relationship where you realize you knew absolutely nothing about your partner. Actually, "Nothing" is an exaggeration but you get the point. You start to know about small things that are shocking to the point of being considered a secret. Everyone has a secret, right? And the best way to count them is to dump each one. For example, Childe talking about her crazy exes:

''it's raining, look!….Oh, this reminds me so much of a crazy ex of mine who was in front of my apartment one night yelling about how she and I were meant for each other, and her husband was by her side! And the unbelievable was-''

And he kept talking and talking, while your expression was screaming ''There is more ?!'' and your mind thanks God for being normal;

Stage number 3 - Perfect couple

Here is when you became a perfect couple. What is a perfect couple? Two people who have spent so much time together that they can now create an encyclopledia about their partner. Habits, tics, favorite foods, the number of Hot Wheels cars your partner has collected, that sort of thing. Even reading expressions is possible;

The fights end and so do the disagreements

But there is only one subject that can break this: Babies.

''Hey babe, I'm back!" Childe announces his arrival, the door closes behind him as he walks over to you in the kitchen, and peck your lips "I was on my way here when I found out this little sock on our doorstep…?" Childe leans on the counter by his side with a confused expression while he plays with the child's sock, noticing the cute little blue patterns. You, who was kindly decorating cookies for Childe's siblings, looked up to look at the little thing

''It must be from new neighbors, they got the opposite apartment and knocked our door asking for help'' You started, leaving aside the piping bag ''Finally some new people! It's been so long since someone rented an apartment here'' the man commented, approaching the cookies discreetly before wincing at the slap you gave his hand

''They have two kids'' Continuing ''a baby girl and a boy with Teucer's age''

At the mention of his brother, Childe's expression changed, forgetting his red fingers. ''Awesome, we could invite them to dinner this weekend, If that's not a problem'' He gave an idea, but then raised an eyebrow at your dull expression

''They seem like good people…but I-I'm sure they'll ask those awkward questions like 'when are you two having a baby' and then apologize for being intrusive after being intrusive'' Of course, it was just an assumption, you had only interacted with them for minutes but your biggest mistake in this conversation was bringing up the subject you two avoid. Childe laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his head.

''Well-''

"Childe, we already talked about this. You just have a silly baby fever, and in case you didn't know, fever goes away" You quickly dismissed him, knowing he wouldn't give up so soon. Having a child was a big request, a big wish. But it's not like it wouldn't be ''easy'', you have enough money to have 50 kids and they still wouldn't use up half of Childe's bank account. His family lives in the apartment next door and could teach you more about how to take care of children…But there was still an insecurity boiling inside you.

"But what if it doesn't go away ? What If the urge to go out just to buy little socks for our child keeps eating me ?" He was almost pleading, looking into your eyes just when you tried to avoid his gaze

"...First, you need to give me good arguments" you replied after sigh, somewhat expressing your guilty. Childe opens a big smile and approaches you once more, A fox look - persuasive "hmm... don't you want hold a mini silly Childe in your arms ?-"

"Cut it off! This is serious!"

"O-okay!" He chuckled softly before silence filled the room, he looked at the floor and then at the main kitchen window "We would practically be building a story…That's not the reason I would want to have a child, in fact you is my reason. Sometimes I feel like you are the reason for my existence… and they would [literally] understand me"

You stayed quiet and walked away from the counter, taking off your apron before gently kissing his lips. He cupped your face, wiping away the small traces of flour on your cheeks. ''I'm convincing, aren't I?'' He whispered and pulled away, taking a few steps backwards as he bit into the cookie he stole while you weren't looking. Bastard. You didn't even have time to shout at him because the man was already on the other side of the apartment; you sighed, but couldn't help but giggle.

You married a idiot, a handsome idiot. Have fun.

#yes guys I like sitcoms it's my obsession #this was actually fun to write!#benni #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #ajax x reader #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #2024 is my year #genshin #childe #tartaglia #Obrigadaeuteamo

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imyourbratzdoll · 2 years ago

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𝒃𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒏 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝒍𝒂𝒘𝒚𝒆𝒓

🍓the strawberry shack masterlist🍓

summary - andy has been having a tough time between his job, his wife and his son in the hospital. he decides to treat himself to something sweet.

warning - smut, oral sex, gloryhole, cheating, swearing, daddy kink.

18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine. thanks to @lomlisarilevinson for sending in the requests that started this au.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

Andy couldn’t keep dealing with his wife and his work. He had been so stressed, having to deal with the asshole trying to steal his cases and then coming home to his wife nagging him, making him miserable and wishing he was anymore else other than there. It hadn’t been the same as in the beginning, not since she intentionally crashed the car with his son inside. Their son was lying in a hospital bed, in a coma, all because of his wife, but he couldn’t find it in himself to leave her. Laurie had pushed him to his breaking point today, causing him to walk out, slamming the door and head toward a bar, only to be stopped by the flashing pink sign next to it.

He had always wondered about this place, wanting to see what it was all about but knowing it wasn’t suitable for him as he was married. Not that it had stopped many men, but still. Andy liked to think he was different from all the rest. Maybe if he still held love for his wife, he wouldn’t be walking through the door of The Strawberry Shack. Perhaps if she didn’t make him feel so drained and dead, he wouldn’t be putting cash onto the counter and walking through to where the girls were held.

Andy surveyed the room to see who would be perfect for this little affair. He wouldn’t waste this. What was the point of cheating on his wife if the other woman wasn’t worth it? It wasn’t like he was getting anything at home, so the woman he chose here had to blow his mind. Andy walked over to your area, feeling himself harden in your presence. Something about being around you without actually seeing you did something to the men. As though you were a siren, luring the poor defenceless men into your trap. He decides to start small, wanting to test the waters before fully committing. Andy’s hands move down to his slacks, unzipping them slowly and taking his hardened member out, groaning as he strokes his hand up and down, swiping his thumb over his leaking tip.

He moves closer to the hole in the wall, feeding his thick cock through it and groaning when he feels your wet tongue flicking across his swollen head. You slowly suckle him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you take his cock deeper, moaning around him as you taste his salty taste. You choke on him, becoming messy with your movements, unknowingly causing the man on the other end to try and find something to hold onto as he feels his soul begin to leave his body. You suck hard on his tip, swirling your tongue around his leaking slit, slurping him wonderfully. Andy’s eyes roll to the back of his head, wondering if he has suddenly died and gone to heaven. No one had made him feel like this. The way you were sucking his cock felt amazing, and it was so worth cheating on his wife for.

His head falls forward, connecting with the wooden wall as he pants, feeling his cock start to twitch, and his balls tighten. “Ugh, fuck! That’s right, darling. Milk daddy of all his cum!” Andy groans, moaning as you swallow him, picking up your pace until hot cum spurts from his mushroom tip deep into your mouth. You moan around him, swallowing every last drop of him before cleaning Andy up, licking him clean from the white cream. Andy pulls out of the hole, tucking his softening cock into his dress pants and zipping them up. “Thanks, sweetheart.” He doesn’t even feel a pang of guilt as he looks down at his wedding ring, shrugging his shoulders as he already plans to return to you.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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beautifulchris · 2 years ago

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fate brought us together again

a sequel to love die young

⤷ pairing: bang chan x gn!reader

⤷ genre: smau w/ a few written parts, fluff, angst, humor, romance, drama, college!au, exes to lovers!au

⤷ tw: will put them accordingly to each chapter but mostly swearing

⤷ synopsis: after spending two years abroad, you come back to the only college that accepted you; the same chris goes to

⤷ featuring: stray kids, loona's olivia hye, nct's mark, an oc, itzy's ryujin and yuna, enhypen's jake, p1harmony's intak… more to come

⤷ disclaimer: ignore the timestamps i have no time for this hhh; you might find typos despite my efforts so i apologize in advance; almost none of the pics used in this au are mine: © to rightful owners; none of this is meant to represent anyone in real life; this is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only!

⤷ notes: header made by me. you don't have to read the prequel to understand but i would appreciate it if you did :)

updates: every other day, 8pm CET

networks: @kflixnet @k-labels @straykidsland @kwritersworld

taglist: @soobin-chois @raethethey open!

status: completed

started: 15/07 10/07 as a gift for 100 followers❤️

completed: 31/08

profiles — road trip adventurers | it wasn't me | extras

chapter one — coming back home

chapter two — first day

chapter three — who's y/n?

chapter four — new friends

chapter five — "you wish you were me so bad"

chapter six — senses are sensing

chapter seven — i've heard of him (lying)

chapter eight — i miss you

chapter nine — i have no fear.

chapter ten — team 60

chapter eleven — opportunities (w)

chapter twelve — don't start a battle you'll lose

chapter thirteen — sick joke (w)

chapter fourteen — what are friends for

chapter fifteen — revelations

chapter sixteen — friends? (w)

chapter seventeen — i hate you guys

chapter eighteen — down memory lane (w)

chapter nineteen — manzoned

chapter twenty — embrace (w)

chapter twenty one — go get your man (w)

chapter twenty two — chrizz

chapter twenty three — everybody else knew

chapter twenty four — double sense

chapter twenty five — fate

epilogue (w)

#kflixnet #k-labels #straykidsland #kwritersworldnet #stray kids bang chan #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids fake texts #skz imagines #skz scenarios #stray kids smau #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz angst #skz fluff #skz bang chan #skz smau

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glacial-waltzes · 4 months ago

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Kaeya, cavalry captain of Mondstadt! A pleasure to meet you all~ 23, he/him.

This picture isn't fully accurate now, but Borealis is still with me! Along with his other friends who keep tailing us around, haha.

Kaeya’s pokemon

Pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Lynette. 21 and she/her only.

Kaeya has let me borrow his... odd mechanism when I please. If you are interested in magic, or my brothers… this is the wrong time and place for that. But if you wish to speak with me... just get to the point.

Lynette’s pokemon

If any of you see my good friend Aether, or our other companions, Alhaitham or Furina, please do let us know. We’re a bit worried for them.

//Universe shared with - @diamond-lost-in-time - @fallenboughtkeeper (on the genshin side) - @blueberry-gills - non emo au of @arven-x-drayster-4ever (both on the pokemon side)

please go through ‘read more’ before interacting!

Heyaaa!! It’s @saywha413, mod of @arven-x-drayster-4ever, @ask-sarah-and-co, and all the other blogs in that universe!

I love Kaeya genshin sm and I thought a faller blog would be silly…

since this is a separate universe from my main one, I’d be alright with him being in like other universes if that makes sense? but uh. hmu if you want to do like a rp thread or join universes or smth.

Note relating to the actual genshin part. The only other faller chars planned (as of rn) are the ones he listed. Most other chars will be back on Teyvat- so in @/fallernboughtkeeper’s side.

finally. There will be kaether (kaeya/aether) bc I am crazy abt them. Aether is 20 (under legal drinking age of 21). I am also highly considering furina/lynette and kaeya/aether/alhaitham but we’ll see lmao

Pelipper mail/malice/mystery gifts: ✔️ Musharna mail/malice: ✔️ Union circle: ✔️ In character hate: ✔️ Magic anons: depends on the anon

Anyone can interact, given that we keep it within a social media context.

also full icon bc im super proud of how it turned out

Tag guide:

I didn't know you were such a slacker. Anything by Kaeya Hey; fancy joining me at the tavern for a bit? Asks We're not frozen in place; after all. Reblogs Haha; just don't feel intimidated by what I can do. Plot related stuff Hehe; seems all the other knights already have their hands full. Anything long lol

There is nothing new under the sun... Is that really true? Anything by Lynette + text color

ask games ooc posts ooc reblogs

dividers: x og icon (mines a redraw): x header: x background of lugia image: x

#pokemon irl #pkmn irl #rotomblr #faller irl #genshin impact #kaeya alberich #genshin kaeya #art #genshin lynette #lynette

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koco-coko · 6 months ago

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A World of Color | Ikevil Fic

Tags; Fluff, Found Family, Painting Nails, Slice of Life

Characters: William Rex + Lacie Monet (OC) (NOT SHIP), all of Crown briefly

Word Count; 2279 (6 pages)

a/n; i love found family dynamics and crown is the most dysfunctional found family in existence

i think they might like this: @natimiles @olivermorningstar @leia-skywalker-organa

thanks @natimiles for the headers/dividers

The garden was always peaceful. A sanctuary of flowers and nature that even the cruelest of men deemed quiet enough to wander around without trampling rosebuds and honeysuckles. Perhaps it was an escape from evil, or perhaps the beauty was its neutrality. Hero and villain alike could admire the lily pads and tadpoles in the point.

Under the shade of the gazebo were two such antagonists. Lord William Rex, an arrogant, self-righteous villain wearing a cape as red as blood, and… A little girl. A short thing wearing a cotton, purple dress and a blindfold over unseeing eyes, with pale blonde hair that cascaded down her back into long, twin braids. The girl’s shoes had long been discarded to a shadowy corner of the gazebo.

Despite their differences, the pair sat at a tea table as complete equals. In fact, the self-righteous monarch held the little girl’s hand, gently applying a coat of paint to her fingernails.

Lacie squirmed. “It’s cold,” she whispered. “Are you done yet? What color is it?”

William smiled. “This is only the first layer, dear,” he explained, “It’s called the base coat.”

“And then we add the color?” Lacie said excitedly, her free hand eagerly searching for a platter of cookies. She moved around carefully and slowly so as to not knock over the chilled tea in cups that were nearby. William let her hunt the table. He had learned a long while ago that helping the girl would only cause her to huff and pout about her own competency. “What color is it going to be?”

“I’m not sure,” he grinned amicably, “Is there a color you wish for?”

“Will,” Lacie responded, wryly. “I’m blind.”

“I know,” he stayed with a tranquil smile as he reached for her other hand. “I was simply curious about what you would say. You’ve yet to tell me why you want your nails painted so badly, even though you won’t be able to see them.”

Lacie rolled her eyes. William couldn’t see that due to her blindfold, of course, but the little girl had to add a dramatic flair to every action. With an embarrassed little huff, she murmured: “Because I felt your nails and thought we could match…” William knew not to comment, since Lacie would only go on a tirade about how no, she did not think he was mysterious and cool at all! It was just curiosity! Just that alone! And she certainly didn’t want to spend time with him whatsoever! “What color are your nails?”

“I usually paint mine red,” William hummed. Lacie perked up slightly. Finished with the clear and shiny coat of polish, William put the brush away and inspected his work with keen eyes. Any error would have to be viewed and corrected by him, after all. “Occasionally black. I’ve been told it compliments my eyes.”

“What color are your eyes?” Lacie continued questioning. The brief question of children and their neverending curiosity flashed in Lord Rex’s mind.

“Red,” he stated simply.

Lacie didn’t appear too thrilled by his response. A small pout came to her cheeks. She wanted to say something, but she figured she’d only get a response along the lines: “you’re the one who asked, aren’t you?” She simply hummed with dissatisfaction.

“Perhaps we should approach the problem differently,” William started once he was satisfied with the precise painting of Lacie’s nails. “I’ve always wondered how you perceive colors. Some say that certain colors can make us feel different emotions, and I’m curious if you experience something similar to that.”

Lacie was quiet for a long moment, her brows knit in deep thought. William said nothing, sipping from his teacup while he awaited her words. While in silence, a hummingbird breezed by the gazebo. Breaking her thought-train, Lacie quickly told the bird she couldn’t play, she had to concentrate! It understood her immediately, bowing its head in apologies and zooming off to a different flower patch. A perk of her curse, she supposed.

“Color is…” Lacie mumbled before she spoke fully. “Honestly? I’ve never really cared about color much, so I haven’t really thought about what they mean to me.”

William tilted his head. “A few moments ago you were begging to know what color I’d paint your nails.” He already knew the answer, but he knew Lacie loved the sound of her own voice.

“I’m interested in it now, obviously. And I don’t want you to pull a prank on me and make it something ugly! I know Jude would.”

“Of course, my mistake,” he laughed, “I give you my word that you’ll have the prettiest nails in London.”

Lacie huffed, bringing her chin up. “Second prettiest. I don’t want Elbie trying to rip my fingers out.”

William nodded, taking a bite of one of the strawberries in a bowl nearby. “What a clever girl you are.”

“I know,” Lacie giggled. “What were we– Oh! Color! Yes, hm… I think color is more so an experience than it is a feeling. It also depends on how the word sounds, too. Does that make sense?”

William glanced over the vials of paint and compared each to Lacie’s figure, only to push them aside a moment later and give the girl his full attention. “If you explain it to me, I’m sure it will.”

Oh, Lacie did love talking, didn’t she? Especially when it was about something she knew and the other didn’t. It wasn’t often at Crown she got to be the one who knew things and would be listened to. Unbeknownst to her, a large smile curved onto her face. William’s eyes thinned with pleasure in return. “Give me some colors, then!”

William didn’t waste a moment. “Black and red.”

“Oh, black is very simple,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “I’ve heard people call it scary, but whenever I hear it, I think of something warm and comfortable. Like a fireplace, or a big bed with lots of blankets and clean sheets! Very enveloping, as well.”

William tapped his chin. “I suppose that does make sense. You and Victor are quite close.”

“Does Victor wear a lot of black?” Lacie asked. Unable to keep still, she kicked her feet back and forth while she leaned on the table. One again, she reached for another dessert and devoured it in seconds.

“Quite,” William said, before continuing to amuse the girl. “Is the evening black as well?”

“No, not at all! Nighttime is very green, actually. But black is very cozy and dark, like the night, so I see the confusion,” she stated. “Oh! You asked about red, right? Well, I think red is very unique. It’s bright, but sort of diluted. Blood is red, right?”

“Correct.”

“Right. So, taking that into account, I believe red is very lively and exciting! Every living thing has blood, I think, so it’s a sign of life. I’d say Liam and Alfons are very, very red.” Lacie’s grin only spread wider as she kept talking.

And Lord Rex, clad in black and red, was more than pleased to know she had such a vibrant view of his wardrobe. “And what about purple? You’re wearing a purple dress right now.”

“Oh, purple is very mysterious, but also cold. Like deep in the ocean,” the child explained with joy, “Fish are purple.”

“All fish?”

“All of them. Except dolphins– those are orange. Also, purple is very smoky. I don’t think smoke itself is purple, but the smell is purple. I don’t like smoke, but I don’t think it smells too bad after the fact.”

“Jude wears a purple coat,” William said. “And he smokes quite often. Does that–”

“Ew!” Lacie shrieked, “I take back everything I just said.”

William let out a hearty laugh. “Alright, I’ve already forgotten.”

“Good. Now, I think…” Lacie hummed a short tune. “You said your nails are red, right?”

“Indeed I did,” he said, “Your memory is incredibly sharp.”

Lacie blushed, “Thanks.” She coughed to make her red face go down. “I want red nails then!”

“It will be done,” William said. “Do you have any recommendations for how I should paint my nails?”

With that, Lacie gasped. “Oh! Can I paint your nails?” she said, her feet swinging back and forth wildly. William stilled, looking over the bottles of nail polish, then at the girl’s blindfold. “I’ll paint them pink and blue! Remember how I said Liam and Alfons are very red? I think you’re pink. You and Harrison are pink. And Ellis! Very polite and whimsical, but also very weird. Flowers and trees are pink, as well,” she explained, before catching her breath once more. “Or blue! ‘Cuz blue’s a scary color, like brown. I think Roger is very blue. Dark blue; very mature and serious and scary. Roger and also books are blue. Oh! What about both? And black! Black suits you, too, I think.”

“Let me finish your nails first,” William responded, “And then I will trust my hands to you.” William couldn’t help but feel brightened as Lacie ranted on and on about how she perceived the world without her sight. The blind little girl did not live in a dark void; no! Quite the opposite! In fact, she existed in a loud cacophony of sounds, feelings, sensations, that all were painted with bright ideas! Paper was yellow, grass was magenta, the sound of birds chirping was a bright mauve, the creaking of wood was a homely orange, a kiss on the cheek was teal. People weren’t only one color either, he came to learn, by a stained glass painting of thousands of different tastes and sounds that changed whenever sunlight hit them.

Once Lacie’s nails had been dyed that same blood red William favored so, he gave his hand to Lacie and guided her through the same steps. Lacie wore an enormous grin throughout. Sure, she was blind, but she could still feel the soft skin of his hands. She ran her thumb along each of his fingers to find out where his nails were, then brushed over the keratin slowly. She bit her lip as she concentrated, and William didn’t feel the need to correct her.

“Here, this color–” she whispered, dipping it into one of the paint vials. Letting go of William’s hand for a brief moment, she felt around. The textures of each object used to mark colors were specific, so as to let Lacie recognize the corresponding colors. Cookie, teacup, strawberry, a petal. Hm, decisions, decisions…She reached behind the teacup and gently took one of the vials. “This is pink, right?”

“Indeed,” William said.

Then, Lacie dipped the brush into the paint and took his hand. She ran her thumb over each finger, stopping at his middle. “I painted your thumb and index already…” she mumbled to herself, then quickly felt the fingers beside it. “Four, five– Yes!” While she didn’t pat herself on the back, she did bite her lip to try and hide her ever-growing smile.

The day breezed by easily, and soon enough night had fallen over London. Crown gathered in the dining hall– a sinister meeting of villains, planning dastardly schemes and…

“What the fuck is on your hands?” Jude spat, stabbing the food on his plate with no remorse. Poor rabbit… “Did a rainbow vomit on ya?”

William hummed, sweet and innocently, looking down at his free hand, then the one that Lacie held onto. “What? I’ve had my nails painted since we met.”

Victor raised his eyes from his food, his eyes twinkling as he saw the state of the self-righteous tyrant. “William! My, what a… unique and colorful form of self-expression!” The rest of the table turned their attention to the pair, all with different levels of surprise. A few eager, some confused, others terrified.

William’s entire hand and wrist had been stroked with thousands of different colors, all overlapping each other, never in a straight line, with only a few spots actual skin managed to break free. Some places had already crusted and flaked off due to the bending and twisting of his fingers and wrist. On his cheek, in baby pink, was a sloppy heart (or maybe a lumpy circle? a peach?). While his hands looked like a used artist’s palette, his nails were, indeed, bright pink. “Lacie and I did each other’s nails over tea this afternoon,” he explained plainly. Lacie beamed at the rest of Crown as she showed off her expertly done red nails, despite her thumb’s polish already being visibly picked at. The little girl wore a similar painted heart on her cheek in dark purple, although her's was leagues more neat than William's.

Liam’s face lit up like a firework. “Wow! Lacie, we should do each other’s nails sometime, too! That’d be fun.”

“Perhaps I’ll join you,” Alfons chimed in, adjusting his gloves briefly. “We can make it a Crown-bonding activity!

Roger chuckled and shook his head. Elbert shrunk back into his seat. Jude scoffed loudly, “Leave me outta it. I ain’t letting that brat near me with any kind of paint.”

Ellis ignored his boss’s remarks, smiling gently as he sipped from his cup. “You two look happy.”

Lacie shrugged in response to Ellis as she took her seat besides Victor. “You’re all just jealous that I’m such a good nail-painter! William said it himself!” Harrison thinned his eyes but refrained from comment. “Victor, can I do your nails next?”

Victor ruffled Lacie’s hair with enthusiasm. “Of course! I’d be delighted to have our littlest villain do my nails! What color should I wear?”

Lacie hummed and swung her feet back and forth, wearing a knowing smile as she felt William’s gaze on her. “I’ve been told you wear a lot of black, but I think you’d look great in blue.”

#ikevil #ikevil william #ikevil william rex #ikevil oc #ikevil oc lacie #ikevil fanfic #ikevil fanfiction #ikemen villians #ikemen villians william #ikemen villians oc

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sergeantbarnessdoll · 12 days ago

Note

okokok… what abt neighbors to lovers smut w/ Steve Rogers 🤤🤤🤤

like, he finds the reader so cute and she’s harboring a mini crush on him too and he keeps trying to win her affection and somehow they end up yano… 🤭

Maybe a MASSIVE little size kink on Steve’s behalf too?

no pressure tho hon 🫶🫶🫶

Won Over With Affection » Steve Rogers/Captain America

Pairings: Neighbor!Steve Rogers x Neighbor!Female Reader

Summary: Steve thinks you’re cute and tries to win you over with your affection, but little does he know that you have a crush on him too.

Warnings: Fluff, Smut (18+), language, neighbors to lovers, flirting, kissing, hickeys, fingering, female receiving, unprotected sex, praise kink, size kink, Steve’s dog tags, pet names

A/N: Thank you for the request, nonnie��

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buck-star

GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

“Good morning, neighbor!” You greeted Steve as you walked out of your apartment and he was walking to his. “How was your morning run?” You asked.

“It was good.” Steve replies with a smile. “How are you?” He asks.

“Other than having to go to work, I’m good.” You answered.

You couldn’t help but admire the way Steve looks in his tight grey t-shirt. His biceps threatened to rip the fabric.

“Anyways, you’re probably busy. I’ll see you later.” You say.

“You too.” He says with a smile.

You don’t know what it is when you’re around Steve, but you always feel nervous around him. You have a crush on him and you aren’t sure how to tell him. So you’re keeping it to yourself for now.

When Steve walked inside of his apartment, he thought of ways of trying to win you over with your affection. Luckily for him, he already knows how to start with his plan.

The following morning, Steve started his plan off with something basic and nice. He got you coffee from the coffee shop down the street from the apartment complex you two live him on his way home from his morning run. He knocked on the door to your apartment.

“Good morning, Steve!” You greeted. “What brings you by this early?” You asked curiously.

“I got you coffee on my way home from my run.” Steve says, handing you a coffee.

“You’re so sweet. Thank you!” You smiled.

“You’re welcome! It’s the least I can do for my favorite neighbor. Plus I would like to get to know you if that’s ok with you.” He says.

“I’m more than ok with that.” You say with a smile.

You could feel yourself blushing more by the second.

“Do you want to come in and hangout?” You asked. “I have the day off today.” You tell him.

“I wish I could, but I have to take a rain check on that. I have to go to work.” He says.

“Oh ok.” You playfully pouted. “See you later.” You smiled.

Steve gave you a smile before going to his own apartment. He sighs happily after he closed the door. His plan to win you over with your affection is working.

The next time you and Steve saw each other was when you were holding a bunch of groceries in your arms and tried to unlock your apartment at the same time. Steve saw you struggling and decided to help you.

“Let me help you with that.” Steve says, walking up to you.

Steve, being the gentleman he is, took the grocery bags out of your arms so you could unlock the door. You opened the door and walked inside. Steve followed behind you. You closed the door after he came inside.

“Thank you, Steve.” You smiled, walking to the kitchen. “You didn’t have to do this.” You say, putting the groceries on the counter.

“It’s ok. I don’t mind.” Steve replies, putting the rest of the groceries on the counter.

Steve put his hands on his hip, taking in the scenery of your apartment. You couldn’t help but look down below his belt. You licked your lips and bit your bottom lip.

“Nice apartment.” He compliments, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Huh?” You asked, blinking a couple times and looked up at him.

“I was telling you that you have a nice apartment.” He repeats.

“O-Oh, thanks.” You stuttered.

Steve didn’t missed the blush creep up on your cheeks. He smirks to himself.

“Well, I should get going.” He says.

“Oh ok.” You said. “You’re welcome here anytime.” You tell him.

“I’ll keep that in mind, sweetheart.” He smiles and winks.

You watched as he walked to the door and walked out the door.

Sweetheart… he called you sweetheart! You felt yourself blushing like a teenage girl talking to her crush for the first time.

Later that same day, you went across the hall to Steve’s apartment. You knocked on the door and patiently waited for him to open the door.

“Y/N…” Steve smiles after he opens the door. “Come in.” He says, stepping aside.

You gave him a smile and walked inside of his apartment.

“I came over here to thank you for helping me with my groceries and for the coffee.” You say, nervously fiddling with your fingers.

“You don’t have to thank me, sweetheart. It’s what neighbors are for.” He says with a smile.

You stood there and continued to nervously fiddle with your fingers. You looked around Steve’s apartment to avoid awkward eye contact with him.

“Your apartment looks bigger than mine.” You say.

Steve smirks to himself. He knows something else that’s big.

There it was again… the awkward silence.

Steve walked closer to you. You looked up at him due to the height difference.

“It is, isn’t it?” He says, bringing a hand up to gently caress your cheek.

You stared in his icy blue eyes and nodded your head. You looked down at his lips. Steve’s lips look so soft and kissable. His lips were inches away from yours. Steve decided to close the rest of the distance between you two and kissed you. You were caught by surprise, but kissed him back. The kiss went from sweet and passionate to heated quickly. You softly moaned against his lips.

Steve’s hips got a good grip on your hips and he picked you up. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. He carried you to his bedroom. He gently laid you down on his bed and pulled away from the kiss to look deep in your eyes. His eyes that were once blue are now clouded with lust.

His hands found the bottom of your shirt. He looked at you, waiting for permission, which you gave him. Steve took your shirt off and threw it somewhere in the room, revealing your lace bra to him. His hands then found the waistband of your leggings, hooking his fingers in the waistband and looked at you for permission. You gave him permission by lifting your hips so he can take them off. Your matching panties were now revealed to him.

Steve took a short moment to take in your beauty. His thumbs rubbed the fabric of your panties. He then leaned his head down, kissing along your neck and down to your collarbone, nipping at your skin hard enough for hickeys. His hands pushed the straps of your bra off your shoulders before he kissed along your shoulders. You arched your back, pressing your breasts against his chest. Steve’s hand went behind your back to unclasp your bra, letting it fall from your chest.

“Beautiful.” Steve mutters softly.

Steve hooked his fingers in the waistband of your panties and looked up at you, waiting for permission. You lifted your hips, giving him permission. He took your panties off, leaving you completely bare to him now. You pouted up at him.

“What’s with the pouty face, sweetheart?” He asks softly, rubbing his thumb across your pouty lips.

“You’re still fully clothed.” You muttered softly.

Steve chuckles softly before taking his clothes off. Your eyes ogled his perfectly sculpted body. You bit your bottom lip and reached your hands out, rubbing them against his abdomen and feeling the indents of his abs. He gently took hands away, making you whine softly.

“As much as I want your hands on me, I have to taste you.” He says, giving you a soft kiss.

Steve kissed down your body, leaving hickeys here and there. You shivered when you felt his breath on your wet pussy. He took in how wet you are. He smirks proudly, knowing he’s the one who made you that wet.

His thumb slowly circled your clit, making your pussy squeeze around nothing. He couldn’t help but lick a stripe from your entrance to your clit. He moaned at your taste.

“You taste better than I imagined.” Steve says lowly.

Steve dove in, latching his lips on your pussy and are you out like a starved man. He put one of his arms across your stomach to prevent you from moving. Your mouth fell open, moans and his name leaving your mouth. One of your hands clutched the sheet beneath you and your other hand found its way to his hair, tugging on it.

“Oh my god! Yes, Steve!” You moaned loudly, throwing your head back against the pillow in pleasure.

The sound of your moans was music to his ears and went straight to his cock. His cock felt uncomfortably hard against his abdomen. Precum leaked against his skin and the sheets. He didn’t care one bit. He wanted to take care of your needs first.

Steve’s eyes flickered up at you, his eyes looking at your breasts. He also watched your chest rise and fall every time you took a breath. He couldn’t help but reach his hands up and cup your breasts as he ate you out. His thumbs rubbed against your nipples before pinching them at the same time. A new sensation shot through your body. You gasped at the feeling. He smirks against your pussy and didn’t it again, getting the same reaction out of you again.

Your grip on his hair tightened. Steve’s tongue prodded your entrance, catching you off guard and making you moan loudly. His tongue focused on your clit for a few seconds, circling it with the tip of his tongue.

You looked down at him at the same time he looked up at you. His blue eyes are now clouded with lust. He winked at you. You bit your bottom lip.

“Fuck, Steve!” You moaned. “Your tongue feels so good!” You say.

“Wait till you feel my cock.” Steve says, taking his mouth off of your pussy momentarily.

You moaned at his dirty words. That only made you want Steve more.

Steve slid two fingers in your pussy. His tongue began to lick your clit in flicking motions. Your grip on his hair tightened, giving it a tug. You threw your head back in pleasure. Your thighs closed around his head. Steve pushed them open with his shoulders.

“Leave these pretty legs open, sweetheart.” Steve says.

Steve curled his fingers, hitting the one spot inside of you. You moaned loudly and bucked your hips against his face and hand. That was enough to tell him that you wanted more. He curled his fingers against the one spot inside of you again, earning the same reaction from you. He also sensed you were getting close to coming.

“You gonna cum, honey?” He coos.

“Yes!” You moaned. “Please let me cum! I’m being a good girl!” You begged desperately.

“Cum for me, good girl.” He says in a praising tone.

His name left your lips in a loud moan when you came, soaking his face and fingers. Steve’s fingers fucked you through your orgasm. He gave your clit one last flick with his tongue before pulling away and took his fingers out of your pussy. Steve sat back on his knees, licking your release off of his fingers, moaning at your taste.

“Holy shit…” You breathed. “A guy has never made me cum that hard before.” You admitted, feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“I’m honored to be that guy.” Steve says with a small smirk.

Steve hovered over you, leaning down to kiss you passionately. His dog tags rested against your chest as he kissed you.

“Think you can cum for me again, sweetheart?” Steve asks, moving his lips down to your neck.

“Yes.” You answered softly.

Steve gave you one more kiss before sitting back on his knees again. He wrapped his hand around his hard cock, stroking it a couple times before line it at your pussy. He rubbed his cock in your slick, getting it wet. He then lined his cock at your entrance, slowly sliding it inside of you. You whimpered softly when his tip entered you. You knew Steve is big, but you didn’t know he was this big. Steve stopped his movements and looked at you.

“Are you ok, darling?” Steve asks softly.

“Y-Yes.” You answered in a stutter. “I just didn’t know you’re this big.” You say.

Steve reached a hand up to your cheek, gently caressing it and rubbing his thumb against your skin.

“I’ll go slow.” He whispers.

You gave him a smile and a nod after a moment, letting him know he can continue to slide his cock in your pussy. The stretch from his cock stung, but it also felt good. Steve gave you a moment to adjust to his size when his cock was fully inside of you. You gave him another nod, letting him know he can start thrusting.

Steve’s hands found their place on your hips and he started thrusting. His thrusts started at a slow and loving pace before speeding them up. Your hands held onto his biceps. Your nails dug in his skin.

“Holy shit!” You moaned loudly. “You’re so big!” You moaned again.

Your moans urged him on. Steve sped up his thrusts a little bit more. His cock was hitting all of the right spots inside of you.

Steve leaned back just enough to look down at his cock thrusting in and out of your pussy, his cock glistening in your slick.

“Fuck…” Steve moans at the sight. “Your pussy feels incredible.” He says, tilting his head back.

In the spur of the moment, you grabbed the chain of Steve’s Army dog tags, giving it a tug to pull him down for a kiss. The kiss was heated. Your lips moved in sync with his. Steve’s tongue licked across your bottom lip. You parted your lips just enough for him to slide his tongue in your mouth. His tongue explored every inch of your mouth.

You pulled away from the kiss, moaning loudly when Steve’s cock hit the one spot inside of you. You leaned your head against his shoulder, your face against the crook of his neck. You placed soft kisses against his neck. Your teeth nipped on his skin just enough to mark him up.

“I wanna try something.” Steve says.

Steve hooked his arms under your knees and leaned over you, fucking you faster. It felt like his cock reached impossibly deeper. Your mouth fell open and your head fell back against the pillow, moans of pleasure leaving your lips.

Steve dipped his head dip, kissing along your collarbones and the column of your throat. His teeth nipped at your skin. He licked every hickey he left on your neck and collarbones.

“Oh fuck, yes! Steve!” You moaned loudly.

Steve loves the sound of your moans and the way his name sounds coming from your lips. He reached his hand down to your clit and began rubbing it. You took a glance down at him fucking you before looking up at him. His eyes were full blown with lust.

You needed his lips on yours. You couldn’t help but kiss him again. This kiss was a bit sloppy, but also sweet and passionate. You moaned against his lips. You two pulled away from each other’s lips, looking at each other breathlessly.

“I can feel you getting close, sweetheart.” Steve’s fingers rubbed your clit faster. “You gonna cum?” He asks.

You moaned and nodded. You felt your orgasm building up even more. It felt like you were going to fall over the edge any second.

“Cum for me, honey.” He says.

Your toes curled and your eyes rolled to the back of your head, his name leaving your lips in a loud pornographic moan.

“That’s a good girl.” Steve praises. “Good fucking girl.” He praises again.

Steve gave your clit one last rub before focusing on his own orgasm. His orgasm was building up fast as well. Grunts and moans left his lips the closer he was getting to coming.

“Cum inside of me.” You tell him, your voice sounding seductive.

“Fuck…” He moans at your dirty words.

He came inside of you shortly after you said that. His thrusts came to slow stop. Steve gently took your legs off of his shoulders and pulled out of you. He laid down next to you and covered the two of you up with a blanket. You moved closer to him, laying your head on his chest and played with his dog tags. Steve wrapped his arm around you.

“I won you over with affection, didn’t I?” Steve says after a moment.

You giggled and looked up at him. You leaned up a bit, kissing him softly.

“Take me on a date and I’ll show you more affection.” You murmured against his lips. “In the meantime…” You got on top of him. “I’ll show you a little preview of the affection.” You say seductively.

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

-Bucky’s Doll

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vagabond-umlaut · 8 months ago

Text

tempest in a teapot

gojo finds nothing more delightful than seeing your annoyed frown in the middle of a storm— why should he need the sun to break through the gloomy clouds, when you're right there in front of him, huh?

teen!gojo x fem!reader; fluffy & not-very-lwk sappy [xDD]; lovesick gojo; realisation of feelings; gojo loves you— you're compelled to tolerate him; he is sort of... obsessed w you but not in the toxic way yet; implied bullying [gojo isn't involved!!]; he wants to be your knight in shining armour sooo baddd; 'one-sided enemies to lovers'; 2.5k wc

belongs to the series 'fictitious force' but can be read as a stand-alone if you wanna!

header frm pinterest // divider by @/isisjupiter // jjk isn't mine

gojo believes, there exist two kinds of people.

one, those who aren't but love to pretend being better than everyone else— and two, those who aren't but will do anything to be viewed as the worst in the world— the second category housing no one except you—

tingles dancing behind his ribs, down his arms and right to the tips of his fingers, the boy hums when asked why he wishes to meet you out of all the people he could. that too now, the sky darkening from a mix of night and storm— that too, to meet you.

candy crushed between molars, gojo grins.

"let's just say i'm a little curious about her, shall we?"

then pauses, grin mellowing when he finally feels your cursed energy— if his six eyes were working just fine and not fatigued after today's spree of killing curses, maybe he could have known your location too in an instant or so... and not have had to rely on others for that...

the blinding beacon that your cursed signature is, brushes soothingly against his exhausted self— he adds, "also maybe 'cause i'm a little in love with her— she's really sweet, y'know?"

whatever response he might have been expecting, a scoff is definitely not one of them.

utahime makes a face. almost as if she just bit into a lemon... almost as if she doesn't believe gojo can fall in love... almost as if she deems you to be not sweet... that last implication nearly makes him want to throw hands with the girl, opting to ignore the fact that she's shoko's girlfriend—

but he stops when she jabs a thumb to the corridor to the left.

your cursed energy caresses his six eyes gently. something burns at the back of his two eyes. he begs his mind to listen to the directions being given to him. the directions to you!!

"go down this hallway then turn right at the end. she will still be in the gardens—" the rest of the sentence doesn't reach gojo.

nor does anything else, for that matter.

nothing does. except for the steady thump!thump!thump! against his ribs and in his ears. and, of course— how did he even forget this— the lodestar your brilliance is to his too impatient self, too stumbling feet, this squally evening as he skids past empty hallways...

your smile is the first thing the boy notices.

so sweet. so sweet. it is the sweetest thing gojo reckons to have ever seen in his life. the pretty little smile carving your lips and illuminating your equally lovely face, as you lie on your stomach on the grass. legs swaying with the wind. gaze dancing over the fluttering pages—

everything changes in a beat— or perhaps even less than that— with your eyes no longer on the book.

they are on him. drowning him. suffocating him. squeezing whatever infinitesimal life left in him after the past three days' missions. taking every bit of who he is, all for themselves to glare at so sweetly.

your pretty little smile falls into an adorable frown. "why are you here, senpai?"

"why am i here?" he echoes your query. your frown deepens. he grins, brushing his bangs away out of his view. "to see you, of course!! mind if i take a seat beside you?"

you do mind. gojo knows, yet doesn't find a fault in you minding him so— shutting your book, you don't waste an extra second to move to sit upright. nor to scoot away when the boy takes your absence of an answer as an invitation to plop down onto the grass.

your scowl stays unfazed, gojo watches, heart lurching and tumbling. falling onto his back, he shifts to lie on his side, an elbow propped up to support his head. and hums.

"why do you look so mad, sweet—"

"please don't call me by such terms," you cut him off, sharp and terse, "and please don't pretend you don't know why i'm mad— acting like a fool doesn't suit you."

"acting like a fool doesn't suit you either, darling," the boy replies, not borrowing even a moment to mull over his words. it's honestly so like playing with fire... arguing with you, that is. but he is nothing if not an extremely devoted lover of danger, so he will keep doing whatever he is doing now— plus, don't the two of you seem so 'married couple'-y right now, huh?

he continues— not disturbed, rather delighted by how your features tighten and stiffen. eyes narrowing a touch. lips pursed a pinch— he wonders if you know how much you're endearing yourself to him the longer you keep looking at him that way—

he allows his grin to simmer down to a sly twist of lips.

"but i'm not going to question that... your love for your family is pretty cool—" not really. gojo finds it boring at best, and stupid at worst. but since it's you... he tries to deem it as neither. "— so whatever amazing plan you've concocted: pretending to be weak, so you aren't sent to a mission, so you have a 100% chance of staying alive anddd your dear family doesn't have to get sad—"

"why are you here, senpai?"

obviously, to see you, silly!!

— is what gojo should say. is what gojo wants to say. but he finds his tongue numb and unmoving. rendered useless by the sight you, your cursed energy, both have become...

if you were a fire before, you're nothing less than a solar flare now.

and the boy loves it. his six eyes love it. the boy loves you—

your brows gather close. his stomach does a flip. your voice assumes an adorably serious tone. "you didn't come here to ask me out, again, did you, senpai?"

did he?

oh, gojo doesn't really know.

maybe he did... he does want to take you to his favourite restaurants. but maybe he didn't... seeing you has been the only thing on his mind ever since he was informed of his mission being in otsu, shiga.

only fifteen kilometres away from the kyoto jujutsu tech— you don't allow him to utter a single syllable in reply, however. gojo wonders if this is how all your future arguments will be like— he decides it's not that bad.

not when you lean a little towards him. gaze narrowed. tone earnest.

"look— i know keeping another's secrets is a big deal, and some folks need some sort of... uh, reward for that— but how about this? instead of me going out on a date with you, why don't i buy you a box of them gourmet chocolates? or, a ticket to your favorite band's concert? or, a gift voucher of your favorite clothing store— this is better, isn't it?"

better... it would have been... if only he was dead set on making you reward him, as you oh so eloquently put it, for keeping your secrets.

but the thing is, he isn't. the boy doesn't want any sort of silly reward from you— he just wants to take you out on a date. always has, since his eyes met yours few weeks ago and he felt something strange and sweet unfurl within his chest—

making it seem like a payment for him shutting his mouth about you, was only a tactic. a very cheap tactic, the boy chides himself, looking at the worry etched into the dip of your lips.

slipping his shades off, he sits up. and offers a tiny smile. it feels... too weird... too soft on his lips.

"you do know who you're talking to, don't you?"

it takes you a while to reply. throwing back a question of your own. "is this you telling me i can't buy a rich guy's silence, senpai?"

he is. he very much is. but heaven knows why you make it sound this rude— the same as before, you don't stop speaking. not allowing him squeeze a single word in.

"but everyone likes free stuff, don't they? i mean, i'll be buying all that for you, and you won't have to spend even a single yen..." you heave a sigh. so minute, he almost misses it. but he doesn't 'cause he's pretty much focused his every sense on you—

exhaling yet another sigh, you ask, "don't you like freebies, senpai?"

he does. he very much does. even more when you say it that way with your cute little frown and exasperated little tone—

"you're too sweet, y'know?" he breathes out, hoping he sounds just as fond as he feels of you now. extremely likely, forever. "i don't really get why utahime doesn't see you to be so."

you make some sort of a noise then.

it isn't exactly a chuckle... nor is it a snort... it's very cute, nonetheless.

you hum, "iori-senpai is the kindest out of everyone here. if she thinks i'm not someone sweet... i don't know but doesn't it ring some sort of warning bell inside your head, hm?"

"hell no," gojo mutters in that same instant— a little miffed at how you refer to utahime, a quiet respect lacing every letter you say— not-too-little miffed at the implications behind you calling that sharp-tongued girl the kindest here—

for the first time in your company, the boy feels his lips collapse into a frown.

it's something, he realises you realise too, the way your lips part a tad. in something akin surprise... but not the very pleased kind.

he doesn't really think before adding, "the only bells i can hear when i look at you are—" you frown. he bites his tongue. perhaps... he should think a bit before speaking...

chuckling, he continues as if you did not just shoot his soul a look.

"never mind what i can hear... but the thing is you can never be one who rings warning bells in others' minds— like, hell no!" he repeats. letting some force seep into his syllables. into his unwavering stare, fixed on you. on every minute expression you're making—

he really decides to think, however. softening himself on noting your shaky exhale. your nails digging into the cover of your book— he lets himself borrow a beat before resuming.

forcing his face into a bright grin when he does so.

"feel free to text me the names of those dipshits who have ever made you feel bad, by the way— but don't worry," he adds, the memories of his previous error of ways hitting him in the face.

"i won't ask you out on a date in return for that— i'm just in need of an intensive punching practice, and you will do me a big favour by doing as i asked you to— you will text me, won't ya?"

yeah. no. thank you. fuck you—

you say nothing.

nothing, nothing, nothing at all.

for a very painfully long ten seconds.

during which you do nothing except look at him— just look, that too! neither glare nor gape nor gawk— just a quiet, scarily quiet looking— gojo swears his heart skips a beat when you finally open your mouth.

and inquire, words so slow and soft.

"this isn't some ploy of yours to get my number, right?"

"hey, no—" he rushes to explain. fuming at himself 'cause how the hell did he fuck up this bad again!?!?— but as is the norm, you don't allow him to speak any more than that. cutting him off with yet another one of your queries— except this time, it's not so slow.

and more of a statement than a question, now that he thinks about it— "you did not really tell anyone about my secret in these past weeks, did you?"

no, he didn't. obviously, he didn't.

gojo satoru might be several things, but an intentional villain isn't one of them... something skids across your face when the boy tells you as much— but he finds himself not too sure.

thanks to the lightning streaking across the sky.

and the torrential rains following not an instant late.

and the way your gaze jumps from him to the sky, to the book in your hold— only to come back to his face. wide, unblinking, all-consuming for a scanty moment there—

gojo tries his best not to collapse into the mud when you break into a sprint for cover from the downpour. he tries his best not to follow you as he feels your warmth go farther and farther away. his six eyes gaze at the trail of your addictively bright and hot— and his six eyes aren't talking about just the temperature— cursed energy—

the boy tries his damnedest best not to shout, overwhelmingly happy and relieved as he realises the rapidly reducing distance between him and your cursed signature.

the thud of your sneakers on the cement floor of the building sounds nothing less than the best music the boy's ever heard. or maybe, it is the best music in this whole wide world...

yet another lightning streaks across the sky. he twists himself around just in time to catch the awe-filled look you offer at the sight. features something out of this realm as your eyes trace its path, not even a bit bothered by the deafening thunder that sounds next—

gojo thinks he'll die happy if he dies now.

or maybe he can die later, he changes his stance quickly. on noticing you dash towards him through the mud, face fixed in a deep scowl as you struggle to open an umbrella, and balance a pretty heavy-looking bag off your forearm.

you huff when you reach him.

the boy wonders if it's your finally-open umbrella, or you, who shields him from the numbing cold of the torrential rains—

crouching down before him, you drop the bag into his lap.

and exhale a quiet sigh. his breath catches in his chest when he spies a hint of something... maybe fondness? curling up the corners of your frown, as you speak.

"next time you wanna flirt with someone, try not to do that after your missions— it is very difficult to be mad at a person if they look just a push away from passing out, y'know?"

[no... gojo doesn't really know.

but as he lets you press the handle of the umbrella into his palm— an odd look flittering over your features before you turn on your heel and hurry back into the school building�� and his eyes fall on the contents of the bag you've left with him—

cans of green tea. chamomile tea. dark chocolate. biscuits. water—

the boy muses if this is your attempt to buy his silence. by giving him enough food and drinks to prevent him from blacking out from sheer exhaustion while on the train ride back to tokyo...

oh. it's enough for him to not worry 'bout tonight's dinner as well, he tells himself on finding two cups of instant noodles at the bottom of the bag—

gojo smiles.

deciding not only his silence to be yours, but also a part of his heart— albeit... weren't either of them yours to begin with, huh?]

hope this was an enjoyable read! pls don't plagiarise, translate or repost this ❤️❤️

masterlist

#gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #kit posts 📝

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thesupreme316 · 2 years ago

Note

I was meant to send this earlier but I’m just now getting to it.

AEW stars of your choice reacting to the fem!reader having her/a wrestlermaiea moment, like winning a title or ended a rivalry.

AEW Stars React to: Your Wrestlemania Moment

Pairings: Eddie Kingston X Fem!Reader (Platonic?), Ricky Starks X Fem!Reader, Daniel Garcia X Fem! Reader, Mark Briscoe X Fem!Reader (Platonic), Jeff Hardy x Fem!Reader (Platonic?), Hook X Fem!Reader, Dante Martin X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.1K

Supreme Speaks: Thank you to @hookerforhook for requesting and supporting me. I apologize for being off the radar as shit as been hitting the fan in my life. I will upload more posts this week. But as always, my inbox and requests is open for everyone. P.S you are loved and greatly appreciated.

Warnings: None really....i think, gifs are not mine, I repeat: gifs are NOT mine

Taglist: @triscillal @wwenhlimagines @hooks-martin @hookerforhook @sheinthatfandom @eddie-kingstons-wifey

Backstory

Winning the Title:

You won the Royal Rumble and had a first-class ticket to Wrestlemania

Where, also, you had the opportunity to the main event with Becky (Or Charlotte or whoever else you want)

After a feud that has been brewing for a couple of months, it all came down to this

You were gonna walk in as the challenger and walk out as the champion

And you did exactly that

All while giving the crowd and fans around the world memorable moments and five-star moves

After 15 minutes, the bell rung and all was said and done as you held the championship over your head

You celebrated with those at ringside (family, friends, fans) before blowing a kiss to the camera

But most importantly to the person who has always supported you, no matter where he is

Ending a Rivalry:

You have been in a rivalry with Liv Morgan (or someone else)

At first, you two were running the division as a tag team before being split up due to comparisons and underlying tensions

After months and months of scathing promos, vicious attacks, and iconic moments

You two were set to wrestle in a No Holds Barred match at Wrestlemania

Even though y’all weren’t the main event, ya’ll stole the show

With moments that involved blood (if you wish), ladders, kendo sticks, and breaking tables

In the end, you were the only one standing with your hand raised as the winner

You helped Liv up before hugging in the middle of the ring

Eddie Kingston

This man would be screaming “I told you so” to everyone and their mommas

Blows up your phone with spam of “You did good! I guess” “Drag her!” “Dawg you suck lol jk” “I’m proud”

You know how Eddie just randomly posts stuff? He’ll just post a pic of you at Wrestlemania followed by memes or old Japanese Wrestling

Eddie would try his best to promote your win to everyone in his line of sight

Cuts a promo and ends with “Also, congrats to Y/N! Hella proud of you skunk”

I also have a feeling that because Eddie is close with you, he would take this win for you a little more personally than how people would expect

He’s happy that you’re experiencing something that he has yet to have

Ricky Starks

MANS IS HELLA PROUD

Wishes he was there ringside, but Ricky sends his support from afar

Make three separate Instagram posts and five tweets about you, all talking about how you’re amazing (and how you’ll meet stroke daddy later)

“LOOK AT MY BABY WITH THE W”

Makes all of his friends congratulate you with posts and comments (will literally take their phones and do it for them if they don’t)

Refers to you in promos to make his opponents (especially ex-WWE) jealous

“Well, unlike you, my girlfriend was actually able to have her Mania moment”

Spoils with presents (wink wink) you as soon as you guys are reunited

Daniel Garcia

THIS MAN IS A MENACE WITH YOUR WIN

“Your win is my win right? So technically I won at Wrestlemania too?” “No.”

Makes your win his Twitter header (don’t matter if you’re together or not)

Will brag on Isiah’s vlogs and to the JAS

Will taunt people like “Did your girlfriend win at Wrestlemania? No, didn’t think so”

Like Ricky, he will post you on his Instagram and Twitter with simple or funny captions

Would genuinely be proud of you and all of your accomplishments;

And would definitely make your Wrestlemania picture/outfit his Home Screen

Mark Briscoe (My twin flame)

HOMEBOY FUNNY AS FUCK

Would definitely tell you that he saw it coming “I CALLED IT!”

Would send you some flowers that remind him of you and tells you that you did a good job

Mark will ramble on and on about your match to Penta and Fenix

Will turn a promo into being about your win

Will compare your victory to an animated movie where the hero wins all the time

“You know like that one film?” “Cars?” “No…Up! That’s what it called”

Although he hasn’t made it to WWE yet, he is extremely proud of you and will defend your victory till the very end

Jeff Hardy

THIS MAN IS BEYOND EXCITED

As a man who has had his Wrestlemania moment; he’s happy that he had yours sooner rather than later

Will recount his own Wrestlemania moments and reminisce as he looks at your bright smile

Jeff would be the one who dedicates his next gear and facepaint to your Wrestlemania gear

Gives you a spill (speech) about living up to standards and upstaging yourself on future occasions

“And if you don’t feel confident…just jump off the ladder, the floor will catch you”

I want to say that in future matches he would use your signature move or like a common move that you use

Jeff is so damn sweet and will continuously support your accomplishments

Dante Martin

This man is a cutie patootie

Darius would definitely post Dante’s reaction (involves him jumping up and down and screaming at the screen)

Would FaceTime you and just listen to you talk about the entire thing from your perspective

Would call/text you “I’m so proud of you baby”

Cites you (and this specific moment) as his inspiration for future interviews

Would have flowers delivered to you with a little note attached

Hook:

His silent celebrations speak volumes

Would definitely take you out to show how proud he is

I feel like that Hook would be the type to like a post about your victory/moment

But what would really solidify your relationship would be that he posted you on his story with a black heart

That’s also how he confirms your relationship

The wrestling world goes wild as he also wears a hoodie of your merch or posts a picture of ya’ll kissing

Like Dante would also have flowers delivered to you, idc what you say

"I love you and I'm so proud of you"

#aew #all elite wrestling #all elite wrestling imagines #jeff hardy #jeff hardy imagine #daniel garcia #aew hook imagine #eddie kingston #aew imagine #eddie kingston imagine #aew hook #daniel garcia x reader #dante martin #dante martin imagine #ricky starks #ricky starks imagine #mark briscoe #mark briscoe roh

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it-happened-one-fic · 1 year ago

Text

Fight Till the Very End - Jade

Author Notes: The header for this fic, which also serves as the inspiration for this is, comes from @thegoldenshi-shi and is a lovely design for Punk Jade (Follow the link to see the full picture!) I listened to Jane Child's "Don't Wanna Fall In Love" while writing this and I honestly had the time of my life. As a fair heads-up this fic contains a bit of a headcannon of mine involving Jade and his punk phase. I highly recommend both the song and the art! As per usual, reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Gender-Neutral Reader/ Fluff/ Flirtation/ Romance/ feat. punk Jade

Word Count: 1749

It was one of those days at NRC where you really didn’t know what to think. And truthfully, that wasn’t exactly odd when one lived at a magical school with a talking cat monster in a haunted house.

But this instance was unique because it also robbed you of words. So you didn’t say anything at all as you stared at Jade, who smiled at you in return. Far-too-pleased with himself, judging from his expression.

But he probably was pleased with himself. After all, he was the reason for your loss of words and utter surprise.

In your defense, though, it wasn’t everyday that one saw the usually well-pressed, carefully dressed Jade Leech in an outfit that could only be described as very, very punk.

With cornrows long enough to reach past his knees hanging from his now spiked-up hair, a chain connecting his pierced ear to a sparkly new nose ring, black cloth arm cuffs that extend from his wrists up to his biceps so that his shoulders were visible, and a low-cut top that showed a considerable amount of cleavage paired with silver necklaces that only accented his full black ensemble, you could definitely say this was different from Jade’s usual suit and tie.

It wasn’t a bad different, though. In fact, if you were to be honest, he looked really good. Frustratingly so.

Especially since something about Jade’s expression, from his amused smile to the glint in his mismatched eyes, made you feel like this was all part of some elaborate scheme.

You adored all of the Octatrio, but you were also no fool and knew perfectly well that all three of them enjoyed their little plots and games. So this being a part of some new plot was all too possible.

But at the end of the day, you were never going to learn anything if you just kept staring at Jade. And the longer you stared in stunned and perhaps awed silence, the more amused the young man seemed to grow.

So at last you broke your silence, tilting your head as you continued to scan Jade’s new ensemble, “Well... You certainly are dressed up today. Is there something special going on, or…?”

You trailed off, half-pondering the possibility of some new event that required new clothes and half-hoping that Jade would fill in the rest for you.

And he didn’t disappoint, chuckling softly and shaking his head as he answered, “No, there’s nothing special going on… Rather, Floyd just happened to mention to me that you might wish to see how I dressed back before you arrived at NRC.”

His eyes were all a glimmer as he shifted, almost as if he were posing for you, but there was no way to ever prove it since Jade seemed to be perpetually posed. Another part of his charm, you supposed.

You blinked, refusing to give him what he wanted and instead questioning the obvious: “You had a punk phase?”

If he was disappointed, Jade didn’t show it. Rather, he seemed oddly pleased by your persistence in not reacting to his new look as he nodded, “Yes, I only changed my style of dress a little before you joined us at NRC.”

A part of you wanted to ask why he stopped, wondering if it had something to do with marketing the Mostro Lounge or himself with his infamous butler persona, but another part of you decided against it.

After all, Jade was hardly one to really let others' impressions of him hold him back. It wasn’t like he hid his love of mushrooms, and he seemed to revel in others' occasionally frightened reactions towards his and his brother's general aura of illegal activities.

And perhaps concerns about someone using his jewelry as a handle to yank him down while he was indulging in said illegal activities had something to do with it. It would be tempting to use that chain against him after all if you were in a fight with Jade, though you honestly didn’t think it would do much good in the long run.

As you thought more about Jade going about his usual activities, a smile crossed your face at the mental image of Jade doing his usual work as part of the waitstaff in such get-up “Does Azul know you're dressed like this?”

The grin that spread across Jade’s face was perfectly evil, “No.”

You nodded, letting out a little “Uh huh,” as you began to circle the young man. Taking a closer look at his entire ensemble.

“How did you get your hair to grow out so fast? Extensions?” You eyed the many, many cornrows that swayed with every motion he made. Half impressed by how tightly they were braided.

“Magic, Dear. Floyd helped.” You almost rolled your eyes at the way his explanation rolled off his tongue. Magic. Of course they could use magic to grow their hair out if they wanted.

You finally made your circuit back around the young man, and Jade’s eyes immediately latched back onto your face. The amusement within their depths was obvious as he continued to gaze at you. Ever patient as the two of you played whatever this game was.

“Why did Floyd think I’d be interested in seeing you all,” You gestured vaguely to Jade as you paused, searching for the right word as you fought to keep the smile off your face, “Dressed up?”

The more you evaded actually giving your thoughts on his attire, the more amused Jade seemed. And both of you knew why.

It was because he looked nice. In fact, he looked practically beyond nice. He looked amazing, rather like a devastatingly attractive bad boy male lead from an 80’s movie whose sole purpose was to sweep some poor, good girl female lead off her feet.

At least a part of this game was him getting complimented, but you could see that easily becoming a slippery slope that would end with you in the same position as the good girl female lead.

He tilted his head, pretending to ponder your question, before a smile slipped smoothly onto his face. Confident that he would win whatever this was by the end, “He mentioned how much time we’d been spending together and said he thought you might be interested in learning a bit more about us. I must admit that after what he said, I was curious to learn what you might think.”

You nodded because it was true. Jade had been hanging around you more and more lately.

Initially, you’d wondered if you had something he or Azul wanted, but it had quickly become obvious that wasn’t the case. Instead, it was more like Jade had his own personal stake in spending his time with you. In fact, if you didn’t know any better, you would say that Jade was genuinely trying to charm you.

It was hard to not let your eyes scan over Jade once more. It was odd to see him like this, but it was also interesting. Almost like he was opening up and showing you just a bit more about his person, and judging from his words, that was true. Though you also couldn’t deny that this still seemed like a part of some elaborate plot.

But you weren’t the only one who was staring at him. In fact, it seemed like everyone that walked by was staring at the usually menacing young man.

Normally people did their best not to look too closely lest they draw his attention, but either the shock of seeing Jade in punk clothes was so great that they didn’t care or they were confident that he was too focused on you to notice their stares.

And Jade was focused on you as he stepped closer to you, leaning down slightly so that he entered your personal space. You had enough room to retreat if you were uncomfortable, but he was close enough to easily hold your attention solely on him.

“And, what do you think?” His voice had softened, almost as if he were trying to lull you into giving away every secret thought that went through your brain. And maybe he was, but you weren’t about to lose quite so easily. Not when you weren’t sure if you were even ready to face your thoughts and feelings towards him.

But you smiled, used to his many charms by now, before nodding. Not about to lie to the young man even as you refused to surrender, “It looks nice. I bet you were popular back in your old school if you dressed like this back then.”

He grinned, his sharp teeth flashing as, for once, he didn’t even bother to hide them at your words. But he was pleased. Not only had you complimented him, you hadn’t backed down from the subtle challenge.

But you’d already decided that even as Jade slipped continually closer, you weren’t going to just give way. Even as you felt your fondness for him growing, you’d already promised yourself you’d fight till the very end.

In no way were you prepared to fall in love in this world that wasn’t your own. You couldn’t take that on top of everything else. Not when it could so easily hurt, what with your future being so unpredictable.

And it was scary how close Jade pulled you to the brink of falling for him, even despite your defenses.

At this point, you knew perfectly well that if you did slip too far, it would be him that you would fall for. But you weren’t going to make it easy for him. Not when he made that cutting edge that love held feel something impressively close to good.

So it didn’t matter how charming, easy to get along with, or attractive Jade was, and it didn’t matter how tempting it might sometimes be. You weren’t surrendering. And if Jade’s expression was anything to go by, he liked that.

Despite yourself, you found yourself smiling back at him, not quite able to stop it even as you felt yourself slide a bit closer to where he lingered. Waiting for you to fall.

But Jade leaned back, murmuring a soft but incredibly pleased, “Thank you,” as he slipped out of your space. Retreating for now, but no doubt already plotting his next attack in his head as he smiled down at you. Perfectly smug as you both prepared for the next round.

And you’d be ready.

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