#ive just never read a fic where they do the upside-down kiss

[ghosttalksalot]

after some time of patrolling, peter and wade are close. they've had their fair share of heart-to-hearts, and peter thinks wade knows him damn well by now.

after a particularly rough fight (some bad guys who didn't mind things getting ugly), and peter waiting with wade for a couple of hours as his legs go from gone to gross to almost-close-to-normal, peter thinks that wade has been pretty vulnerable with him too. he decides he may as well return the favor and do something for wade.

"look... i'm not too far from here, if you'd rather sleep the rest of this off." peter can feel the excitement radiating off wade as soon as he realizes what's being said.

"baby boy, i would love nothing more than to see your little spider-man-den!"

peter has half a mind to regret it, or even take it back, but he pushes through. after all, if deadpool of all people wanted to violate his privacy, he'd be able to find and know more than anyone needed to- far beyond just face, name, and home.

"promise not to peek? just for the first time." peter does regret that choice of words, though, and he realizes his slip-up just before he hears wade's delighted quip in return.

"baby boy, it's our first time, i'll do whatever you want!" a slightly super-strength-backed punch to the arm did not slow him down. "i will follow all your rules and make sure this is safe, half-sane, and consensual, every time!"

"alright, alright," peter sighed and kept the smile out of his voice. he shot a bit of webbing over the eyes of wade's mask. "no peeking, don't try to look until i say so. i mean it, wilson."

wade mimed zipping each of his eyes shut and throwing away the zippers. peter rolled his (unzipped) eyes, but smiled under his mask. he let deadpool grab onto his back and made sure he had a good grip.

"please stay seated and keep your seatbelts on, we are taking off." before deadpool could respond, spider-man was up, up, and away. webbing his way back home.

as he ignored wade's usual wooping and occasional screams of terror, his mind was at war. half was telling him badidea, badidea, badidea and the other half was telling him it'll be fine, he can trust wade, this is an excellent opportunity to get closer and maybe even get his chance. while he supposed he agreed mostly with the latter half, he needed to beat down that very last part with the nearest large stick.

deadpool does not actually want spider-man, even though peter might want that to be the case. the flirting was a part of his brand, and did not mean anything. and peter knew, even if deadpool did want spider-man, there's no way he'd want the plain and unimpressive man under the mask.

peter shook his head to clear his thoughts as he webbed his own building.

"ladies and gentlemen, please stay in your seats as we begin our descent." with that last notice, peter swung effortlessly down onto the wall next to his window, before opening it deftly and dropping in. he landed well on his feet, it was practically graceful after years of practice.

deadpool dropped off his back and landed on the ground with a thud and an "oof". decidedly less graceful.

now that wade actually was in his apartment, peter felt his nerves humming slightly. he quickly tidied up his few belongings and put all identifying objects (pictures of him, his degree, some mail etc.) into a drawer that he closed with a bit of webbing on the inside.

"alright, are you ready?" peter slipped his fingers under the edge of the webbing on deadpool's mask. he'd tried to keep the nerves out of his voice, but deadpool frowned noticeably under the mask and grabbed peter's wrist without force.

"baby boy... are you sure?" now it was peter's turn to frown. "'cuz you really don't... sound sure."

"what are you talking about? i brought you all the way back here, right into my apartment, why wouldn't i be sure? i could've just not, but i did, and you want this, and-"

"webs. you know i want to get to know you, and see your spider-home, but not if you don't want it. you're going on about not being nervous, but it's just sending me further towards the opposite impression." peter frowned more at that, and tried to ignore his fluttering heart at the considerate words. "you can take me right back to where we were and i won't bring it up again. i only want to do what you're comfortable with."

"look, d- wade. i do trust you, it's just a new thing. i'm nervous, but i do trust you and i want to show you that." deadpool's noticeable frown faded slightly, but he still seemed unsure.

"only if you're positive. this is a lot, and very personal, and i know you're very identity-careful." peter couldn't ignore his fluttering heart now, but he could ignore the voice telling him to change his mind, now muffled by the beating in his chest.

"here we go." peter tightened his grip on the very edge of the webbing and tore it off the mask, while trying to be careful not to tear the mask itself. wade noticeably lit up as he looked around the small apartment.

"ohhhh... i'm in your spider-man-pad!!" deadpool bounced in place a bit as he spoke. peter kept his eyes on wade as the larger man spun around and took in the... rather unimpressive apartment. then it was wade's torn to watch as peter took out a measly blanket and thin pillow. peter felt his face redden.

"sorry, i'm.... not exactly rolling in dough at the moment." he tossed wade the blanket and pillow and wade seemed for a moment as though he was planning to collapse on the couch as he usually did on benches, but had the bright idea that this couch might not take it well. he plopped down as carefully as deadpool was capable of.

"webs, you could live in a dumpster and i'd happily chill on a rat carcass pillow under a newspaper-covered-in-spoilt-milk blanket." peter pulled a face at that.

"that is disgusting." wade only cackled in response. peter opened his fridge and immediately closed it at the reminder that he hadn't bought food for a while. he was getting caught up on rent, and wade happily bought them food every night since it meant he got to pick the restaurant. peter didn't really have the funds to get sick of having mexican food over and over.

he settled to just plop down on his own bed, noticing wade's eyes were clearly on him, and he had not talked for a while, which was unusual.

"can i help you?"

"thanks for trusting me, spidey." wade spoke softly, his tone serious. although they'd exchanged serious words tonight already, the sincerity caught peter off guard this time.

"i mean... why wouldn't i? just... you know, don't go poking around."

"cross my heart!" wade was quickly back to usual wade, speaking in a delighted tone and miming a big X over his heart.

peter snickered and rolled over in his bed, facing the wall. he fell asleep quickly, feeling oddly safe knowing that wade was there.

...

peter woke up to a loud scratching sound, like a heavy object being dragged, a sound that was grinding on his enhanced hearing like nails on a chalkboard. he quickly lept out of bed and scaled the wall to the ceiling, ready to fight whatever made that noise. blinking the last bits of sleep from his eyes, he scanned the room and landed on a slightly sheepish wade and...

"wade. what is that?"

"webs, have you never seen a futon before? this is some of the finest furniture known to ma-"

"i know its a couch, wade. why is it here?"

"can't a man express gratitude for shelter and a place to sleep while he finishes growing back his legs?" wade put his hand over his heart and feigned heartbreak. peter sighed and stood, still on the ceiling, and walked over.

"did you... steal this?" wade gasped in false shock.

"spider-dash-man!" he spoke incredulously, as though peter truly had no reason to suggest that. "i cannot believe you could ever accuse little ol' me of such a thing!" peter eyed him suspiciously. deadpool isn't exactly known for his law following.

"then can you... return it to where you definitely-didnt-steal-it from? because i... i really can't accept this, wade"

"spidey. my web-slinging, crime-fighting, perfect-ass-equipped friend. that right there is the very best part! i thought of everything" wade tossed him a crumpled piece of paper and held up a fairly large bag that had been sitting on the futon. "it even comes with a comforter!"

peter uncrumpled the paper and scanned it. it was a receipt for the exact couch. at the very bottom, circled three times in red pen, were the words 'NO RETURNS, EXCHANGES, OR REFUNDS.' peter felt his heart swell as he looked between a smug deadpool and the receipt. he looked at the couch, which, if he was being honest with himself? looked nicer than his own bed.

wade had actually bought this for him, he knew peter needed it and wouldn't want something stolen. he did this out of consideration and the kindness of his heart, and peter just hadn't been taken care of like this in a very, very long time.

peter's heart moved his body before his mind started up again, and he felt his legs carry him across the ceiling to where wade was standing. he cupped wade's face in his hands and put his fingers under the red and black mask. the slight awkwardness of the angle brought his brain online. he backed up with a start.

"fuck, wade, i.... thank you. i wanted to thank you. i'm sorry, i didn't mean to... shit. thank you for the futon, i'm sorry i... oh goddamnit." wade just stared at him with the mask showing his wide eyes, and it seemed his mouth hung open. peter covered his face with his hands.

"baby boy, i... i feel like i just blew my own brains out and i'm still hallucinatin' while the right lobes grow back in the right places, did you just...?" peter backed up another step and hit the wall behind him.

"yeah, i'm sorry, fuck i... i just- i wanted to..." now he really felt like he could cry. he couldn't have ruined things worse than he just had, and he was cursing far more than he usually did. "i shouldn't have assumed you wanted... that you... shit. i shouldn't have assumed the pet names meant something, or that you wanted to... goddamnit. fuck. look, i'll just go, and you can head out when you're ready, and i will give you space for as long as you nee-"

"web! webs. just... stop thinking for a minute." wade stepped towards him hesitantly. peter felt his heart catch in his throat.

wade slipped his fingers under the bottom of the spider-man mask, and peter grasped his wrists gently.

"are you sure?" peter whispered.

"say the word, and i'll stop."

wade slowly slipped the mask up until it hit the base of peter's nose, then moved peter's hands to the bottom of his own, so peter could slide wade's own mask up just the same. he pressed his lips to peter's, gently at first, then paused to look at peter.

peter pushed his mask all the way off. deadpool stared at him wide eyed, like he was in awe of peter, who considered himself rather average other than a dusting of freckles. peter felt his blush deepen as he was stared at.

"it's peter. my name ispeter parker."

"you're... you're mighty pretty, peter."

peter wrapped one arm around wade's head and pulled him back to being close, kissing him harder than before. wade happily complied with that, following peter's nervous lead. peter pushed up gently, not insistently at wade's own mask. wade pulled back.

"sorry- was that too much?" peter asked, suddenly nervous he'd ruined things again.

"no, you did nothing wrong, but... i don't think you want to do that, webs. i'm far less pretty. in fact, i look more like gravel and an orange peel shat out an ugly love child." wade half-smiled, trying to joke. peter just frowned.

"no, no... not to me..." peter pushed at wade's mask again, and was met with no resistance, but a more than hesitant look.

peter smiled warmly as he saw wade's whole face, scars and all.

"i think you've got a plenty nice face..." wade searched peter's face for a moment, before diving back in to pepper about fifty kisses all over peter's giggling face.

"i don't deserve this, peter, you're just perfect. you're too perfect."

"i think you deserve it completely." it was peter's turn to dive in for another kiss, this time much deeper. he held wade's head close, and wade's fingers tangled in his messy hair. peter relished in the taste and smell of wade fucking wilson.

wade pulled back after a while, giving them both a few moments to breathe their own air.

"if i had known all i had to do for all this was buy a futon.. i would have done that ages ago." peter snickered and rested his head back against the wall. "do i need to buy more furniture to get another one of those? or is that not just a 'thank you'?"

"just... stop thinking for a minute, wade." wade grinned brightly and peter kissed the corner of his mouth.

"i'm still not positive i'm awake, webs. mind helping?"

"i'd bite you, but i think it'd be a little much with the fangs." peter was joking about the biting, but wade shuddered.

"oh, i'm alive, awake, AND alert now." wade grinned even bigger, if it was possible. "sure you can't bite me anyway?"

"i don't know..." peter tapped his chin and pretended to think about it. "might need more furniture for that one"

"baby boy, i'll buy you a furnished mansion for that." peter laughed and kissed him again.

"the furniture is far from the best part of this deal," peter mumbled against wade's scarred lips.

"oh? do tell, what is the best part?"

"help me off this wall and i'll show you."

deadpool was suddenly an excellent listener.

[fin.]

[sixosix]

THAWED | LYNEY X FEM!READER SERIES

THAWED (MASTERLIST) — the lyney childhood-enemies-to-frenemies-to-lovers-kinda series that no one asked for, ft. fluff, a whole lot of bickering, flirting, and everything in between

STATUS. complete.

OTHER INFO.

DISCLAIMER. will contain spoilers. this series will be as dark as genshin lore can be, and this won’t strictly follow genshin’s actual lore—i’ll be making up a lot of stuff for the sake of the fic so there will be inaccuracies, NOT CANON COMPLIANT!! the timeline of events will be vastly different. each chapter will have their own warnings as well, so keep an eye out for that!

NOTES. hello, everyone !!!!!!! welcome to my lyney series inspired by taylor’s reputation album. how it works is each chapter will be titled after each song off of the album as u can see below,,, hope u enjoy reading as excited i am for rep tv!! :D

tysm to naosaki and kruinka for helping me brainstorm w this fic (and also helping me when i was visibly all over the place because of this series)

CHAPTERS.

i — are you ready for it?

The House of the Hearth was perfect. This was where you thrived—where no one else could take this feeling away. But then Lynette became a part of the ‘family’, and with it, she dragged along Lyney.

ii — i don’t wanna hurt you (i just wanna be)

You look more like a soldier than an orphan, Lyney thinks. It’s beautiful in all the wrong ways.

iii — you gotta leave before you get left

Desperately, Lyney melts them away, but your footsteps have already gone out of earshot. It’s an answer in itself: Don’t bother. Take the hint, Lyney; you already messed it up.

iv — for you i would fall from grace

“What now? What do you want me to do? Strut back into their lives and demand all their Fatui secrets as if I never left?”

Aether nestles into his seat. “Prove to me that I can trust them just as much as you do. Who knows, you might get something out of this, too.”

v — you must like me for me

Lyney laughs. It sounds like music that has haunted you for years—and with a new one playing, it’ll torment you for years more. He loosens his grip but keeps you caged in, still. You’re twirled around to face him, and something about his expression has you swallowing thickly.

“You’re even more stunning than I remember, ma chérie.”

vi — look what you made me do

You frown at him, your face upside down in his view. “That was unfair.”

“I have to be if I want to beat you.”

vii — all eyes on you, my magician

He doesn’t take his eyes off you, even once when his fingers reached out to fish out a champagne flute. Lyney still has that stupid smile on his face, the rim of his glass against his lips. You’re hit with the startling realization that you want to kiss him.

Fuck, what?

viii — you’ve ruined my life, by not being mine

“You’re so warm,” you murmur to his skin.

Goosebumps blossom all over his body. Your face brushes against the side of his neck. “Do you hate it?”

“I like it. My hands are cold. Every part of you is warm.”

ix — us traitors never win

Lyney knew that this would happen. He knew well enough to predict what ‘Father’ would make them do, but still—

“We understand,” Lynette says, her eyes darting down to Lyney’s clenched fists.

The Knave stares at Lyney, and the strength of her stare has Lyney lowering his eyes to the floor. “Do you?” she asks. They wisely stay silent: Lynette’s hesitance and Lyney’s frustration. “Then I trust this won’t happen any longer.”

x — king of my heart, body and soul

You bit back the bite of ice and wondered how ironic it was that every time your Vision acted out, it was, more often than not, tied to Lyney.

“What, so you expect me to believe you’d just go against your ‘Father’ like that?”

xi — baby can we dance, through an avalanche?

Lyney supposes he can’t hate Aether that much for that. And selfishly, Lyney supposes he can’t truly hate Aether because he brought you back to him. In a vague sense of camaraderie, Lyney understands.

xii — there is an indentation in the shape of you

And so you two stand face to face with your old home, the House of the Hearth. It still had the same grand doors you remember, the same living room, and the same fireplace, but the emptiness was unfamiliar. It was unsettling, like a bad dream.

This used to be your home.

xiii — he built a fire just to keep me warm

“I think it’s special. We’re twins, Lyney and I, but I think if I were in his body for even a day, I wouldn’t be able to recreate what you two have. He treasures you deeply, more than you know.”

xiv — hold on to the memories, and i will hold onto you

fin.

END NOTE.

thawed related tags you might want to check out:

#thawed fanart <3

#thawed memes i want to hang in a museum

of course, if you want to check out akagi's series of mind boggling fanart:

#akagi0021 carrying the entirety of thawed

FANART COMPILATION

our favorite akagi0021 has been blessing me with THAWED fanart (!!!) and i decided that i need to compile all of them for me and to make YOU see the art as well... BECAUSE THEY'RE ALL SO GOOD (with permission of course)

CH 1 | reader's new outfit reveal

CH 2 | lyney doesn’t know how he looks at reader

lyney and MC height difference before/after IM ON MY KNEES theyre so cute

CH 4 | aether and paimon confronting reader

bonus fanart of lyney and reader after training :(( so cute

CH 5 | lyney seeing reader!!!!!! aahhh his eyes

lyney as a kid and then lyney now (grown up) THIS ONE IS INSANE. little lyney is so adorable but then look at the lyney now

CH 6 | LOOK AT THIS ONE!! scene of lyney saying “she’s hiding something” except akagi made him unnecessarily sexy wtf

CH 7 | drunk reader driving lyney crazy... (i went crazy)

CH 8 | "lyney's not my boyfriend" ; the ending scene with childe, aether, and reader!! they all look so good T__T

CH 10 | lyney's "i would. i would for you" OUGH YESS

++ ADDITIONAL!!!

and look at this so so so adorable collection of doodles of chapter six by sunny @emanami !!! her artstyle is to live for its SO cute (look at the siblings!!!)

more of sunny's cute drawings: thawed!mc biting lyney's cheek like what i want to do

look at @lacrimae-lotos's version of mc!!!! SO CUTE look at her piercings and her eyes aahhhh

akagi's art dump from different chapters | theyre all so cutue im sobbing i love akagis mc and lyney so much T__T (LYNEY BRAIDING MC'S HAIR)

lyney doing the stretch tactic ohh he is so slick modern au with akagi's thawed!mc and lyney at the beach i fainted

++ LOOK AT AKAGI'S VERSION OF MC! shes so lovely

design headcanons (theyre all so precious)

akagi's reader as a genshin char !!

reader's outfit for chapter seven SO PRETTY

thawed!mc's eyepatch lore... aether is so silly

akagi's au where mc never left the house and they're enemies to lovers yes yes yes yesyse

© SIXOSIX 2024. all rights reserved. do not repost or reproduce any part of this work.

[writing-in-april]

Georgia Peach

Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader (Spencer POV)

Summary: Spencer sees Reader eating a peach and goes a little crazy.

A/N: this was a long time coming- ive been writing this oneshot for forever and I finally finished it! The original prompt is from @imagining-in-the-margins and I also incorporated a request for a pearl necklace from @sunlight-moonrise This fic was also written for @ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff so I could give them some gender neutral smut! Most of my fluff is gender neutral but until now I hadn’t dived into writing gender neutral smut. I’ll definitely be writing more in the future- I like writing stuff that is as inclusive as possible! There shouldn’t be any mistakes in terms of pronouns- I had a ton of people look at it, but if there is please message me!If you live in Georgia don’t forget to vote in the Georgia state runoff elections!

Warnings: Sub!Spencer, Topping from the bottom, Very slight food play, Face Fucking, Pearl necklace, Pubic sex (sorta), Unprotected sex

Main Masterlist Word count: 2.9k

I was pretty sure I was going to explode just from looking at Y/N. They weren’t doing anything that was infuriating, annoying, or even anything that most would consider sexual in nature. They had decided that a peach brought in by one of the Georgia detectives was the best way to relieve their parched mouth caused by the blistering heat. The mundane act of eating a peach combined with the deep v neck that adorned their figure was apparently enough to make my slacks uncomfortably tight.

Get it together Spencer.

My inner voice was slapping me upside the head repeatedly, trying in vain to break me out of the daydream I had found myself immersed in. I swept the sweat off of my brow while continuing to unabashedly stare at Y/N. I knew that I needed to draw my eyes away from Y/N and focus on the case file that was sitting on my lap. But, just as I was about to tear my eyes away from them they took a large bite of the delicate skin of the white peach causing juice to dribble down their chin.

I’m screwed.

Subtly was not a strong suit of mine. That became painfully obvious when my eyes widened to the max in an attempt to see every detail of the erotic picture I was painting in my mind. The picture became clearer in my mind as another bite was taken out of the supple fruit. The juice escaped their mouth again, however this time a new path was taken when the liquid fell past their chin. The drop of nectar slid down past the juncture of their collarbones, falling perfectly down the point of the v on their shirt, almost as if it was carefully planned and executed. My mind wandered further than I thought possible when images flashed before my eyes of Y/N covered in something different, but similarly sticky. I was so transfixed at the sight that I didn’t notice the coy smile being flashed my way from across the room.

“You alright Dr. Reid?” I could hear the coquettish voice but it sounded like it was 1000 miles away. Everything had become muffled, the only sound I could clearly hear was the thrumming of my heart beat in my ears. I gulped hard, trying and failing to distance myself from my thoughts.

A loud snap in front of my face from the culprit of my dirty thoughts cleared my mind just enough to refocus on the person in front of me. The visage of Y/N still had me in a haze of lust that I couldn’t shake but, I did find some strength within myself to respond, “Y-yeah I’m alright Y/N just thinking.”

“About what?”

“Nnn-Nothing, don’t worry about it.” My tone had risen to a high pitch and that along with my stuttering instantly gave away that something was brewing in my head. And, Y/N was good at reading me, they’d always been able to pick out how I felt in a few sentences or less. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if they’d picked up how turned on I was right away.

Yeah, I’m totally screwed.

It was now so silent you could hear a pin drop. I tried to slow down my breathing that had picked up some minutes ago due to the mounting tension in my trousers. Sadly, despite my efforts I could not calm down, my trousers still felt way too tight and now everything felt hot. My face was probably bright red right now from the burning heat coursing through my veins, which would just end up being another signal to Y/N that something was amiss.

I tugged at the edge of my collar trying another way to reduce tension in my body as now the skinny tie I wore felt too tight on my neck. Immediately my mind jumped away to- I wish their hand was on my neck.

During my efforts to ease the tension in my body I must have failed to notice the fact that Y/N was still staring at me. A shudder was sent down my spine when I finally peaked my eyes up from the hands that held the peach to their eyes which felt like they were boring into my thoughts and reading everything.

I wanted to crawl into a hole and never leave. There was no doubt in my mind Y/N had sensed my arousal by now and I’m pretty sure I looked even brighter than a cherry as I started to stumble out an apology. I couldn’t even get one full word out before they had set down the offending fruit and made their way over to me. The chair that I had been sitting in was a swivel chair which Y/N took full advantage of by spinning me around to face them. Their chest was bent over to come down to my sitting form but instead of focusing where their face was my eyes were firmly fixated again on the sliver of skin still glistening with the juice from the peach.

I just wanted to lick it off.

My mind had again been so lost in lust that I didn’t notice that they were now so close to me that I could feel their breath mixing with my own and all my mind was focused on was tasting the sweet nectar that I knew still sat on their tongue. Like a man possessed I tried to lean forward hungrily at Y/N to relieve the undeniable but silent tension we had created. However, suddenly my arm was being pulled out of the conference room by them leading me down the path to the archive room. The city we were stationed in for the case was definitely behind technologically, so much so that they still kept all their files on paper. The old files from cold or closed cases were then schlepped into this forgotten archive room that I was being led to like a lost puppy by Y/N.

I stumbled in after Y/N into the archive room that was pitch black. They dropped their hold on my hand as soon as the door shut behind me making me grope around in the dark looking for some guidance. I heard the distinctive click and their skin was then illuminated by the glow of the singular lightbulb that hung in the center of the small room that Y/N turned on.

“Do you want this Spencer?” They said while strutting over slowly to me, I apprehend the offer of being able to back out but it was an offer I would definitely not be taking. As soon as my head nodded in agreement their mouth was on mine in the most blissful kiss I had ever had the pleasure of taking part in.

The taste of our tongues intermingling was overwhelmingly peach as I was finally able to get a taste of Y/N. Their movements were much more calculated compared to my sloppy desperate attempt to control the kiss. With practiced ease they dominated and I willfully surrendered to whatever Y/N wanted me to do to them. A shudder came into my bones as Y/N pressed me up into the nearest walland then untucked my shirt to run teasing little circles with their left hand over my hip bones.

The kiss was cut way too short in my opinion as they released my lips and then teasingly put their thumb into my mouth. I swirled my lips around their thumb with an intense pout, I tried to look as pitiful as possible, trying to coax them to stay right there with me. Unfortunately they pulled away from me altogether and then sauntered over to where the short filing cabinets were sat in the room, making my pout deepen further then I thought possible .

“Aww- don’t pout you’ll get what you want.” They said before leaving me, the mocking tone in their voice only making me pout harder. Any complaint I had  died in my throat when they pushed their pants and underwear down swiftly. They obviously had a better understanding of the fact that this tryst had to go quickly- and hopefully quietly. The closest filing cabinet to Y/N then became a prop for them to balance so they could bend over seductively. And with a simple crook of their finger I was over behind them ready to service them the best I could. My pants undone and pulled down enough to pull my cock out, jerking myself slightly so I was fully hard and ready to wrap them around me.

Wait. Was this really happening?

I questioned myself as I pushed into them from behind slowly wanting to savor every moment I had with Y/N wrapped around me and- also to also convince myself that this wasn’t a wild figment of my imagination. However, my long drawn out thrust was cut short by Y/N pushing their hips back against me taking me all the way down to the hilt. As soon as I was fully sheathed inside of them I started to rock my hips into theirs with little whimpers falling from my lips. If I had been in a different state of mind, one that wasn’t desperately trying to seek release, I would have probably flushed red in embarrassment at the noises I was making.

“Oh! Good Boy, Spencer.” They groaned out as I picked up the pace, my hands then briefly left their hips to pull them back so their back was flush against mine. The change in angle of my thrusts seemingly made Y/N’s pleasure skyrocket, the praises that they had been giving out to me being muddled down into moans that they muffled with their hand. I could tell their release was close when they let their head drop backwards into the crook of my neck and began to meet my thrusts vigorously.

A deep guttural groan came out of my chest as Y/N wound their other arm around behind them to tug on my hair as they came to their release. Pure bliss fell across Y/N’s face along with a lazy smile while they rode out the waves of their release. I kept rocking my hips forward to prolong their pleasure but my own release was beginning to brew within me.

Y/N reached behind to rest their hands on top of mine, they had been gripping into the sides of their hips roughly enough that there were sure to be bruises. They had me pull out, I almost thought they weren’t going to let me finish and began to beg with a long drawn out whine. Y/N flashed me another one of their devilish smirks, no doubt in response to my whimpers. Another pathetic beg slipped past my lips before my mind went completely blank as soon as they dropped to their knees.

“Fuck- Spencer I want you to fuck my face.” A sharp and sudden groan tore through me at their words, I swear Y/N was going to be the death of me. I bobbed my head up and down nodding as quick as I could, probably a little too eagerly but, I couldn’t find it within myself to care. “Like I said- you’ll get what you want.”

Y/N then spit in their hand and started to jerk me off slightly- I could honestly cum like this and be completely satisfied. But, then they moved forward and licked up the length of my shaft before slightly sucking on my tip.

The feeling of their mouth just enveloping my tip made me feel like I had died and gone to heaven.

Holy shit this was really happening.

A choked moan started to fall from my mouth before I quickly tried to stifle it by biting into my fist. My other hand was manipulated by Y/N to rest at the back of their head, a nonverbal queue to let me know I could start doing what they wanted and fuck their face.

The thrusts I started off with were quite soft and shallow, even though they had requested that I do this to them I still never wanted to hurt them.

I almost pulled them off of me when I heard a soft gagging as the tip of my dick hit the back of their throat, but they held their own throat down on me making a high pitched whine that didn’t sound like it could come from me came falling from my lips.

After getting the chance to fuck Y/N and now their mouth was around me, I was going to finish embarrassingly quickly. My thrusts started to falter, I could feel my release in the base of my spine, threatening to spill at any moment.

“W-where can I-” I tried to stutter out before finishing, though I failed miserably, my approaching orgasm stifling the words.

Luckily, Y/N understood perfectly and pulled off of me to answer, “I want you to cum on me my chest, face, neck- wherever you want.” A deep seated groan rumbled through my chest at their words while they jerked my length. Y/N worked kisses up my thighs bringing me teetering on the edge about to fall into a pool of euphoria. When they pressed a kiss to the tip of my cock I fell into my orgasm and became blinded by the pleasure. I was fortunately still able to keep my eyes open to see Y/N get covered with the fruits of their labor. It was a filthy sight that made my eyes widen and my pupils blow wider then they had ever been before.

A few moments passed as we both caught our breath, each for different reasons. My gaze was still fixated on how my release had fallen over Y/N. Specifically I fixated on the spot where some had fallen down their chest right down where the v of their shirt had been before- right where the juice had slid down.

“Well I should’ve thought this through more… I don’t have anything to clean myself up.” Y/N gasped out in giggles breaking out of the dominant role that they had fallen into earlier which broke me out of the daze I had been in. I looked at them with endearment, I loved every facet of Y/N’s personality.

“I-I’ll be right back I’ll find something.” I stuttered out while basically stumbling back into my clothes. Before tripping out of the room to try and locate some tissues I did my best to make myself appear presentable again, taming my curls, smoothing out my shirt, and tucking it back into my slacks.

“You forgot something.” Y/N called out to me just as I was about to scurry out. Still naked and unclean, they held my belt up by one finger and had a teasing little smile on their face that was nothing but trouble. I walked up and quickly snatched the belt back and began to loop them through my slacks. My head was tilted down, suddenly growing shy at the sight of Y/N even though I had been the one to make them look so depraved in the first place.

“Now come on Spencer, stop being so shy. You weren’t shy 2 minutes ago.” The way they bit their lip at the end of the teasing remark made me want to get down on my knees and worship them. Sadly, work was calling both of our names pulling us out of our own little world that we had created in this dark, small- and slightly dusty archive room.

I gained back a little bit of my lost confidence and moved forward to envelop Y/N in a kiss, one that was much softer than our previous ones. The taste of the kiss still felt like a drop of golden sun from the peaches, albeit tainted with something a little more salty now.

“You taste good.” I said with a shy but knowing smirk before biting my lip. “You look good too but- you also look like trouble.”

“Yes, but you quite like trouble” They remarked in amusement before shoving me closer to the door, “Go on now, I can't stay naked covered in your cum for the rest of the day.”

“It would be a pretty sight though.” I said cheekily, slipping out of the room quickly to avoid one of their shoes being thrown at me in fake annoyance. As I left the room to hunt down something to clean Y/N up so we could go about the rest of our work day I came to a conclusion.

I quite enjoy trouble- and peaches.

[444piscesprincess]

childhood friends to lovers/growing up together sterek fic reclist

uhh this kinda got a lil angsty but i recommend you pick a growing up together fic and listen to this song i promise you will not regret it 

https://open.spotify.com/track/5Dz8nrwQlPLE68WaTEIqY5?si=aogjMc1aToSALmAlfQOR7A 

anyways as usual check tags please!!

(click on the title for the fic)

you know you're on my mind

bibliosexual

Summary:

If there’s one thing Derek’s learned in life, it’s that crushing on someone who lives on an entire other fucking continent is probably a bad idea.

(hs!au + texting!au + childhood friends to lovers the ULTIMATE fluff fic)

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart)   (series)

yodasyoyo

Summary:

Stiles is six years old when he first hears Derek's voice in his head.

Or what happens if you have a soulmate bond, in a universe where soulmate bonds don't exist?

Up Down Lock Unlock

isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

Summary:

“Why are you going into grandma Ito’s apartment?” he asked.

Derek turned to him, key sliding into the lock. “What do you mean?” He tried to turn it, but the key wasn’t budging. Maybe the lock was sticking again, it’d been doing that the past few days.

Stiles was staring at him like Derek was stupid.

Derek did not appreciate sass from a ten year old.

“That’s grandma Ito’s place.”

“No,” Derek said calmly, pulling the key out and then shoving it back in, wiggling it a little when it continued to refuse to unlock the door. “This is my place.”

“I think you’re on the wrong floor then, because that apartment belongs to grandma Ito.”

(time travel counts as childhood friends right?)

the difference between going back and going home

thepsychicclam

Summary:

Stiles and Derek were inseparable growing up, but then college, jobs, and life happened. When Stiles comes back to Beacon Hills a decade later, he doesn't expect to reconnect with Derek, and he sure doesn't expect to fall in love with him.

It's Such a Gas When You Bring Up the Past

orphan_account

Summary:

Stiles finds a box of old photo albums that dredge up the sweet, the funny, the adorable, and the mildly heartwrenching parts of his and Derek's past.

(mainly a friends fic but its too cute to not include)

It's Always Been You

charlesdk

Summary:

Stiles' love life was practically non-existing, always had been. He was always terrible at picking up clues when people hit on him (it had happened, Erica had been witness to it and had been the one to let him know it was happening in the first place) because he never expected anyone to do so.

He wasn't the most desirable guy around, he knew that. He was loud, extremely nerdy, never knew when to stop talking, not exactly much of a looker if you asked him, the list was endless.

Point was, he never did know when someone was flirting with him. Which was probably how he ended up in the fight that would change his life for the better.

Lead You Home Again

GotTheSilver

Summary:

The first time Derek meets Stiles, the kid’s brown eyes are wide, and he’s staring up at him with a mischievous grin as he tugs at the arm of Derek’s first ever Batman figure like he’s trying to separate it from Batman’s body.

An alternate take on Teen Wolf, wherein Stiles and Derek are childhood friends, and things unfold from there.

Kingdom By The Sea

kilaem

Summary:

Lydia grabs his arm and pulls him down in the seat next to her. “When the hell did you find time to bag a guy like Hale?”

“We’re friends,” Stiles feels his face heat up, and then the team are running out and Derek sees him and smiles. His blush gets worse.

“Oh really?”

“Our moms were friends, okay? We’ve been in diapers together.”

“I thought you two hated each other.”

Those That Bump In The Night

bleep0bleep

Summary:

A boy’s head appears upside down, hanging off the bed. “Is anyone there?” he calls out curiously, looking right at Derek’s eyes. Caught, then. The protocol for being deliberately seen by a child is just to look as strange and fearsome as possible. No one would believe them, anyways. But Derek is tired, and he’s been running and scared, and now he just kind of flickers, curling out a tendril of dark smoke, hoping that he’s a little bit scary. No such luck. The boy’s eyes widen. “Oooh, are you the bogeyman?” “Bogeyperson,” Derek says, before he can help himself.

~

When Stiles was a boy, he had an imaginary friend named Derek. Ten years later, Derek comes back, and is very, very real.

Five Times Derek and Stiles Kissed For Practice (And One Time They Didn't)

mikkimouse

Summary:

In which Derek and Stiles grow up together and practice kissing, roughly in that order.

216 + 1: Words To Say Instead of I Love You

briggs

Summary:

Derek and Stiles have been best friends for fourteen years. They have their differences, sure, but it's never been a question for them. Their friendship has been the most solid thing in their lives -- until suddenly it isn't anymore.

Funny how just a few choice words can throw fourteen years of friendship off-balance.

OR

a collection of "Bro, That's Gay" one-shots that actually ended up turning into a concrete storyline.

hope is the thing with feathers (part of a series)

ShanaStoryteller

Summary:

Stiles is ten when he saves the Hales from their burning home and Derek from a wolfsbane bullet, and this establishes a pattern that seem to continue indefinitely.

"Then he's facing a burning home, and he wraps the hood of his sweatshirt around his mouth before he pushes the door open and steps inside. There's Mr. Hale asleep - he hopes asleep - on the couch, next to - Stiles thinks that's his brother but there are so many Hales, who can keep track. He rushes over and starts shaking him, can see the rise and fall of the man's chest so he knows he's alive, but he's not waking up. He shoves away his hood so he can shout, "Mr. Hale! You have to get up, there's a fire! Mr. Hale, get up!" Nothing, he's not even twitching, both of them taking in deep even breaths like they're having the most peaceful of rests, and Stiles is going to cry. "Wake up, wake up, wake up!" There's a moment, where all Stiles can hear is the blood rushing in his ears and not the roar of the flames or the creak of wood, then with a violent, silent pop it's all back and both of the men are gasping awake, eyes open and jumping to their feet. "

(one of my favourite fics like EVER)

it came from the trees

whatshouldntbe

Summary:

“Don’t worry, Scott caught me up on everything,” Kira assures with a bubbly smile via video-chat. “You and Derek, huh? I probably should have seen that coming. I always thought it might be Cora, but Derek was the one that looked at you how I used to look at you.”

Stiles goes a little pink. “It’s still kinda new but, yeah. I really like him. He’s...” Beautiful. Patient. Smart. Painfully honest. Sweet.“...a total dork.”

Kira laughs and laughs. When she gets herself together, she replies, “Yeah, those little hearts and stars in your eyes definitely say different."

or

Stiles moves from the shiny, fast-paced lifestyle of Los Angeles to the foggy, sleepy town of Beacon Hills so his dad can become the new sheriff. Newly fifteen, he does his best to finish out his freshman year of high school (by staying under the radar) when he suddenly becomes the Beyoncé of the Supernatural community. And, without much prompting on his part, he ends up catching the eye of one of the most prominent Werewolf families in all of North America. It literally all starts with a stuffed animal(s).

(oh god this fic is the literal best even though its abandoned it ends at okay-ish place. this is one of the best hale family characterisations ive ever read. if you squint it can be a childhood friends to lovers fic but im including it anyway bc its amazing)

Promises aren't Meant to be Broken

paradis

Summary:

“Thanks for saving me,” Stiles blurts out, staring up at Laura, wide eyed.

Laura grins. “I like you,” she says, “we’ll be friends.”

(more laura and stiles besties centric but totally worth a read)

The Things We See

MelodramaticSalad

Summary:

Stiles grew up in the life of knowing that there was always more to life than what others saw with a first glance. Even as a child he saw things that no one else seemed to and always had a fascination with the unusual.

Some considered him an unusual child, but Claudia welcomed every single quirk her son displayed. His mother had a few special talents of her own and thrilled her to see it in her son as well. She'd raised Stiles to always keep his mind open and as grew and started to display his powers, she began to teach him how to use them. She even taught Stiles about werewolves at a young age, his infatuation with them growing once he had learned the truth about her closest friend.

Stiles spent nearly every possible moment that he could roaming the Hale house, following after the middle child most of the time. Derek was three years older than Stiles, but the bond they developed with each other was something their mothers considered out of a story book. Like Derek, Stiles was sensitive to his emotions, but unlike Derek, Stiles didn't need a scent to figure it out. He could feel it.

take me back

matildajones

Summary:

“I dare you to kiss me,” Stiles taunts, and he’s not expecting the way Derek says a naughty word under his breath and then leans forward.

Stiles yelps. He just dodges Derek’s mouth before he’s laughing wildly and running through the trees, calling out a series of ew ew ew as Derek chases him back home.

[let-it-raines]

CS Fic Rec Monday

I hope you’re all staying safe and inside as much as physically possible! I said I was going to do this weeks ago, but I finally remembered to queue it all up! Here are some dang good multi-chapter fics you can curl up with! You’ve probably already read them if you’ve been around for awhile, but rereading is fun, too! Plus, I know these writers would get excited to see a new comment or two 😘 

-/-

As Real As You Want it To Be by @ive-always-been-a-pirate​: Teaching at the same school as Killian Jones was both infuriating and distracting, but when he throws Emma under the bus for the final time, she devises a plan to get back at him. After all, nobody likes to go to a wedding alone. Time for some CS AU fake dating.

Warm Nights and Firelight by @oubliette14​: When in the wake of a messy breakup Emma makes the impulsive decision to return home to her parent's ranch in the Rockies, she certainly doesn't expect to find a strange Irish guy living in what was once her apartment over the garage, and she definitely doesn't imagine that the home she couldn't wait to be rid of five long years ago would be the very place her heart begins to heal.

If Looks Could Kill by @wellhellotragic​: Emma Swan is a dedicated FBI agent getting over a bad breakup. When she and her partner, Ruby Lucas, are forced to go undercover as contestants on a reality show, Emma is forced to try and win the affections of Killian Jones, a man she despises.Killian Jones is a lost boy. Having recently been nicknamed the ‘Bad Boy of Boston,’ he’s been living up to his moniker using women and rum to avoid dealing with his dark past. When he’s forced to take the lead in a reality show, he encounters a gorgeous blonde who turns his world upside down. Miss Congeniality meets The Bachelor.

The Reason by @xemmaloveskillianx​: The three of them share a laugh before they all look to Emma. She has yet to comment on the new addition because she isn’t sure what to say. She usually doesn’t like change, they have a good thing going there, just the four of them. Plus, they all know him and she doesn’t, but she trusts their judgement, and she’s sure any brother of Liam can’t be all that bad.So, with a shrug and a smile she says, “Welcome to Storybrooke, Killian Jones.

The Wife by @ineffablecolors​: No one knows all that Emma has been through and certainly no one knows all that Killian has been through and being husband and wife doesn’t make them any less unknown to each other. And really, how can you help someone heal when you don’t even know how hurt they are?

Beauty in the Aftermath by @high-seas-swan​: Confronted with the sudden appearance of her birth parents, Emma, in a moment of panic, flees. She flees the diner, Storybrooke, the country. She finds herself a day later in the Dublin, Ireland Airport terminal wondering what the hell she has gotten herself into. With some fear, a little determination and a considerable amount of faking it along the way, she sets off on a trip she never planned on taking but needed more than she ever knew. She finds herself, she finds a Brit adrift on his own journey and finds out what home really means.

Playing the Part by @shireness-says​: As a stage manager who's clawed her way up from the bottom, Emma Swan can handle just about anything thrown her way. But does that include handsome lead actor Killian Jones? A CS Broadway AU.

Love, Kindness, and Other Useless Things by @joneskillian​: CS AU, set in 1815. Lord Killian Jones is haunted by the demons of his past which makes him nowhere near the man he once was, so he can't be the father he wants to be. And above all, he believes he is undeserving of love. Perhaps with Emma that is all about to change. But falling in love is never easy, that's just how it is.

Something Like You Love Me by @bemusedbicycle​: Emma decides the best way to get Mary Margaret off her back about Walsh is to say she already has a boyfriend. Except she doesn’t. That’s where Killian comes in. Fake!Engagement fic.

a one time thing (and other untruths) by @weezlywrites​: "She supposes the reason she tells him is the same reason she kept his phone number after all those weeks." Pregnancy has a way of throwing a wrench in one's plans.

Alone, until I get Home by @peglegsjones​: In Boston, Henry Swan's six-year-old brother Ian finds a book titled "Once Upon a Time" hidden beneath the seat in their mom's old yellow bug. As soon as Henry touches it, he remembers.Season 3 Canon Divergence-Emma finds out she's pregnant a few weeks after she and Henry leave Storybrooke with new memories and new lives. Nearly seven years later, another Dark Curse puts her family in danger, and Emma must return to Storybrooke to help them.Who's powerful enough to cast the Dark Curse? And how the hell is she going to tell Hook they have a son together?

Knock, Knock by @charmingturkeysandwich​: Emma Swan has made the best of her crappy apartment ever since she became best friends with her neighbor, Ruby. But when Ruby moves out and a loud Brit takes her place, the thin walls and lack of space are suddenly not so endearing. After a particularly stressful day, Emma decides to confront the nightmare next door, and entirely against her better judgment, she might just be making a friend.

These Nights Aren’t Made For Thinking by @nowforruin​: AU. Emma Swan came to Portland, ME to start over. She's got a job she loves, but when a particular case gets under her skin, she finds herself visiting the Jolly Roger and its curious bartender, Mr. Killian Jones, more often than she thinks is wise. But some nights aren't made for thinking. Captain Swan.

On the Two by @lifeinahole27​: He’s one bad trip from ending up in AA, and she’s one performance away from a solid job and moving closer to home. Their paths were unlikely to cross until Camp Hope brought them together. How and why they meet and intertwine is against the odds, and definitely against the rules, but will that really stand in their way? A Dirty Dancing inspired modern au.

Separate Lives by @lenfaz​: Set after 3x20 "Kansas". After saving the town one more time, Emma decided to return to New York, leaving her past behind. Three years later, she realizes that might be not have been the best decision.

Natural Opposite by @searchingwardrobes​: Dance is more than Emma Swan’s career; it’s practically saved her life on more than one occasion. But when it comes to reality TV shows, she’s always danced in the shadows of her twin brother David and her sister Elsa. Her first season as a pro on Dancing With the Stars was a disaster, and she enters her second season determined to prove herself. All she needs is a good partner. Hollywood bad boy and ladies’ man Killian Jones isn’t what she had in mind.

Walking in a Straight Line by @msgenevievee: It’s one of the oldest stories in the book. Two old friends have a few too many drinks, two old friends share a kiss. Happens all the time, right? But what happens when only one of them actually remembers it?

Out of the Frying Pan by @welllpthisishappening​: Emma Swan is only doing this for one reason, well, make that two. To get her show's numbers back up and, maybe, impress her son. She doesn't like admitting to that second one though.Killian Jones is doing this for absolutely, positively, just one reason. To expand his restaurant. And maybe get Regina off his back. So that's kind of two reasons.Neither one of them is doing a year-long Food Network all-star competition because they're celebrity chefs and there's not really any other choice. Of course not. And neither one of them is enjoying it because they maybe, kind of, sort of enjoy each other. That would be insane.

A Cold Awakening by @swanderful1​: Modern crime AU. Twenty years have gone by since Storybrooke was shaken to the core by a gruesome crime that went unsolved. Sheriff David Nolan and his partner, daughter Emma are forced to revisit the crime. At the same time, Killian Jones and his older brother Liam have been drawn back to the town they had longed to never see again, struggling to find their own answers. As taunting notes and clues show up they are taken on a journey to finally bring justice for the Jones family. And Emma Nolan finds herself caught in a situation more dangerous than she could have ever imagined.

Beyond the Horizon by @alexandralyman​: AU: When Princess Emma's ship is captured by the Jolly Roger and Captain Killian Jones, she offers herself as a hostage for ransom if he will let the ship and the other passengers go. With Emma, Killian remembers the honour he once held dear, and Emma catches glimpses of the gentleman Killian had been. Against all odds, the pirate and the princess begin to fall for each other.

[honeyhan-123]

Say Thank You XI

XI. The Syndrome  Series Summary: Nearly five years have passed since Steve Rogers saves your life without so much as a thank you. When he sees you again by chance, he makes sure that he’ll never let you go and maybe teach you some manners in the process.

Series Warning: This will be a dark!Steve fic with stalking, kidnapping and manipulating as well as non-con and dub-con situations. Please don’t read it if you don’t like that sort of thing.

Chapter Warnings: Anxiety, panic attack, smut

Word Count: 4.5k

AN: Sorry it’s been a wee while since the last chapter but it’s here now x

I. New York ~ II. Madrid ~ III. The Apartment ~ IV. The Trip ~ V. The Basement ~ VI. The First Lesson ~ VII. The Waiting Game ~ VIII. The First Attempt ~ IX. The Darkness ~ X. The Truth

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

Steve watched as you slept, curled into his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around your body, pulling you impossibly closer as he breathed in your scent. He watched as you buried your head further into his chest, relishing in the way you body felt pressed against his own. He had been so scared, terrified right to his bones that Bucky would take you away from him. It had only been a few weeks but already you were a part of his life, a part of him. 

He watched as the sun began to peak in through the windows he had unlocked the night before, claiming it to be a reward for your good behaviour as Bucky had demanded. The morning light gave him hope, hope that soon the days of the basement were over. His bed upstairs had been getting lonely and he longed to be able to take you out, to introduce you to the rest of his team, to walk hand in hand down the street. 

Your body stirring against his pulled Steve out of his daydream and back to the present; back to you. ‘Good Morning Sweetheart. How did you sleep?’ You could feel his chest vibrate against your ear as he spoke, fully pulling you out of your slumber. Tilting your head up you were met with his crystal blue eyes staring down at yours, full of life and joy, and while it made you smile on the inside seeing him so happy, you weren’t quite ready to reveal that it was the best night's sleep you had had in a very long time. 

‘It was good Stevie, what about yours?’ His smile grew even larger hearing the little nickname falling from your lips, inflating the balloon of hope inside his chest even further. 

‘It’s impossible for me not to have an amazing night’s sleep when you’re in my arms.’ You wanted to roll your eyes slightly at his cheesy line yet the way it flooded you with warmth inside out held you back. You felt him shift underneath you, one arm unwrapping itself from you, raising up to stroke his fingertips against your cheek, brushing away the stray hairs as your eyes closed in contentment. You could get used to mornings like this. 

His fingers danced along your skin as he cupped your chin, tilting it up slightly, his lips brushing ever so softly against your own. It was slow and gentle and so unlike the other times he had kissed you it left you dazed and confused. 

His tongue delicately traced across your bottom lip, asking for entrance which you gladly gave him. Your own hands cupped his face as he kissed you, tracing over every freckle and pore of his skin, loving the way his body felt against yours. You shifted on the bed, lying so that you were straddling his waist, your chest pressed against his and your hands in his hair as your tongues danced together, memorising each other just as his hands were memorising every inch of your body as they unearthed every dip and curve of your body, before coming to a stop on your ass, squeezing the still tender flesh eliciting a moan to tumble from your mouth and into his. 

You swirled your hips against his as you sat atop of him, relishing in the small groans of pleasure he released as your glistening wet lips brushed against his growing length, leaving a trail of arousal on the soft material of his boxers. 

A soft gasp escaped your lips as your world was flipped upside down and all of a sudden his body was on top of yours, one hand still groping your ass as the other moved up your body to cup your breast. You threw your head back against the mattress as his lips trailed down your jaw line to your neck, pausing every now and then to leave warm open mouthed kisses, occasionally sucking the supple skin into his mouth hard enough to leave a love bite. 

Your moans mixed together as he lowered himself down even further, taking one pebbled nipple into his mouth, sucking on the hard nub, gently rolling it around with his tongue, biting down ever so slightly, just hard enough for it to hurt, yet still be pleasurable. 

He clearly noticed your thighs rubbing against one another, trying to get the friction that you greatly needed as his hand slipped around from your ass to trace your swollen lips, facing no resistance as two slid inside. Your grip on his hair tightened as his fingers curled, grazing against your walls, against there, and his lips slowly descended the rest of your torso, joining his fingers. 

His tongue circled your bundle of nerves, licking a long stripe along it occasionally as your muscles tightened underneath him. He pulled it into his mouth as a third finger slid home, your back arched against the mattress, pushing yourself further into him, begging him for just a little bit more. 

You hadn’t been completely ready for it when the wave crashed over you, your muscles spasming as your walls fluttered around him. Through the haze of pleasure you felt him draw himself back up over your body, placing soft butterfly kisses over your body, over your face as you slowly came back down, a blissed out smile on your face as your eyes fluttered open to see his. 

No words needed to be spoken as you pulled his face down to yours, your lips moving together lazily as your other hand pulled his boxers down before wrapping around his cock, working it slowly as you collected the precum from the tip and coated the rest of him in it. When he was decidedly wet enough, you lifted your hips slightly, angling him at your entrance, waiting for him to thrust in. 

His hands wrapped around yours, holding them gently as he pushed in, his forehead resting against yours. ‘Fuck Doll. You feel so good. You’re so good to me.’ You smiled, lacing your fingers with his and lifting your head to kiss him gently as he continued his slow pace. 

It was like nothing else you had ever experienced, the gentleness of it all, the intimacy you felt right in that moment as he continued to slide home inside you. The other times with him had been good but this was something else; something completely new. You couldn’t put your finger on what had changed since yesterday but right now you didn’t want to think, you just wanted to relish in the pleasure he was giving you with every thrust of his hips. 

Your fingertips clawed at his back, digging into the firm muscles as he pulled you closer and closer to the edge. Your breaths mingled as one of his hands disentangled itself from yours, sliding down your body to where you were connected to him. He toyed with your clit, slowly circling it with his fingers, loving the way your walls clenched around him in response. 

‘That’s it baby, you’re nearly there. Be a good girl for me and just let go, let me help you.’ Your head spun as you took in his whispered pleas and your body obeyed him, walls fluttering around his cock, muscles spasming underneath his body, a long drawn out moan leaving your lips as you felt him reach his own release. 

He stayed on top of you, his fingers dancing along your skin, his eyes absorbing every pore of you as he leaned down to press your lips together. It was slow and gentle and easy, lying there in his arms like nothing else mattered but you and him. 

It was only when he pulled out of you and you could feel him leave your lips, drop by drop that you fully remembered where you were, what had happened to get you into this position. If he sensed a change in your manner he didn’t let up as he quickly kissed you once more before getting out of bed, pulling his boxers back on. 

‘Here.’ You stared up at him, pulling the sheets around your body as you took in the shirt he was handing you confusedly. 

‘Here, put it on.’ He repeated himself for you as you refused to move, not understanding why he was giving you his shirt. When moments that felt like minutes had passed, you felt the bed dip once more as he moved your arms this way and that to get the button up shirt on you. Your eyes locked with his as the shirt hung off your shoulders, his fingers pressing against your skin through the material as he did the buttons. 

‘Sweetheart, are you okay?’ You tried to speak, to nod your affirmation yet you couldn’t. The war raging inside of you was too much to handle, it was controlling you, your every thought, your every movement. Why were you feeling like this? So tender to the man that kidnapped you? Who had hurt you? It wasn’t right; it wasn’t how normal people felt, yet you couldn’t deny it any longer. You yearned for him, for his embrace, his presence, his body. Being surrounded by his scent wasn’t doing you any favours as every breath you took served as a reminder of what you could have if you just behaved. Life could be good to you; he could be good to you. 

‘Sweetheart, you’re really starting to worry me, what’s wrong.’ Tentatively, you held out a shaking hand, reaching out to cup his face, your thumb slowly swiping across his cheekbone. You forced a smile onto your face as your eyes clouded with unshed tears. 

‘Nothing. Nothing’s wrong Stevie.’ Your voice was weak as you reassured him, the tears finally overspilling as you leaned into him, kissing him once more and as your lips met your suspicions were proved true. You knew exactly what had changed since yesterday. 

+

Steve hadn’t wanted to leave you to go upstairs and get breakfast nevermind leaving you alone for the day, and so he had texted Bucky, asking him if he could handle things at headquarters, assuring him that everything was okay, that you were just acting a little weird this morning.  He couldn’t think of anything worse than leaving you right now, not after having to brush away your tears with his fingers as you cried, clinging to him, refusing to let go or even tell him what was wrong. 

A part of him had wanted to get stern, to force you to tell him, after all if he wanted a successful relationship with you communication would be key. Yet as he held you to his chest and your tears started to disappear, he realised that maybe that wasn’t the way. As much as he didn’t like it, maybe it would be okay if he just let you have this moment. Plus the way you had clung to his body long after your tears had subsided had reassured him. Whatever this was, it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing for him, for your relationship, yet it still pained him to see you upset no matter what the issue was. 

He tensed when he felt arms wrap around his stomach, your head being buried into the wall of muscles that was his back. Being as lost in his thoughts as he was, he hadn’t even heard you move from your seat on the island bench and while he had been clear that you weren’t allowed to move, he figured this was okay, it wasn’t like you were trying to escape. He flipped you over, turning around in your arms, making it so that you were between him and the stove. It was delightful seeing you in his kitchen, wearing only his shirt and nothing else, the best thing he could ever ask for. 

‘What are you thinking about Stevie?’ Your voice was slightly muffled as you pressed your face against him. 

‘Just you. Always about you.’ You smiled at his words, tipping your head up slowly to stare back at him as he concentrated on the pancakes behind you. 

It was still so surreal, being up here, in his kitchen, being able to see the rest of his house. You suspected it was because Steve hadn’t wanted to leave you so soon after your breakdown, even if it were just to get breakfast and so he had invited you upstairs with him. He had been very firm about the rules, you weren’t to scream, run, or try anything, but it didn’t bother you, at least, not much. You knew already that you would never win in a fight with him, he was far stronger and it would end up ugly for you, and so you resigned yourself to following his rules without complaint, promising to be his good girl. 

As he finished the pancakes, he added it to the stack that had been keeping warm in the oven before leading you to the dining room, his hand in yours as he placed the plate down on the smooth wooden table and pulled out your seat for you. 

You could hear Steve talking to you, saying something as you sat down, yet you couldn’t be sure what it was. Your eyes were locked on the windows, taking in the familiar skyline in the far away distance. While you had known you probably weren’t in Madrid anymore, you had no other clues to where you were… until now.

Steve’s jaw clenched as he watched you overtly ignore the plate of food he was offering to you, the sheer lack of manners enough to cause him to grind his teeth. His muscles tightening as he prepared to spring out of his chair should you show any intention of moving towards the windows. Maybe it had been soon to take you upstairs but he hadn’t wanted to leave you alone in your current state. 

He put the plate down in front of you, still unable to pull your gaze from the windows and with every second that passed, his temper because shorter and shorter. Reaching out he grabbed a hold of your arm, his grip a little too tight as your eyes finally snapped to his. 

‘What are you thinking Sweetheart?’ He tried to make his voice sound calm yet failed to hide the threat of anger as his eyes were locked on yours, looking for any trace of a lie that might come out of your mouth. He knew that he needed to be gentle with you since your breakdown but he wouldn’t stand for this, for your blatant disregard for his rules.

‘We’re in New York.’ Your voice came out as a whisper and Steve slowly nodded. You could see his poorly disguised anger and tried to rectify the situation. ‘I’m sorry Steve, I didn’t mean to… it’s just… I haven’t been back here since-’

‘The Battle of New York, when we first met.’ You nodded slowly, your eyes falling back down to your plate, memories of that day flashing through your mind, of the panic you had felt trapped underneath the car, of how Captain America had jumped in front of you and saved you. 

His hand slid down your arm to clasp yours in his while his other tilted your chin back up to face him, his anger fading away. ‘Hey now, Sweetheart. It’s okay, you’re okay. You’re safe now, the Chitauri are gone and they’re never coming back. I’ll always protect you.’ You nodded through the tears that had once more started pooling in your eyes, swiping at them with the napkin that Steve handed you. 

‘I know it’s silly, it’s been over five years now but I just… Being back here brings back so many memories.’

‘I know Sweetheart, I know. It’s not silly at all, you nearly died. It was avery traumatising event but you’re safe now. You’re with me and I’ll never let anything or anyone hurt you.’ You wanted to believe the sweet words pouring from him, wanted to believe that he meant them but the nagging voice in the back of your head was asking how much you could trust him after everything he had done to you. 

You tried to ignore the voice, forcing a smile on your face. ‘I know Stevie. It’s just… hard.’ A sad smile crossed his face at your words and while you felt like he wanted to talk about it more, you hastily changed the subject. ‘Thank you for breakfast, it looks delicious.’ Your smile was a little more real as you leaned over the table, reaching for the lemon and sugar, silently begging that Steve would let the conversation drop.

‘You’re welcome Sweetheart.’ Your eyes locked once more before you started to dig in, your eyes not once returning to the skyline. 

+

The next week or so passed in a similar fashion, Steve had grown more comfortable having you upstairs for meals and you always made sure to keep your eyes away from the city, away from the memories it brought with it. 

While your closet downstairs had been unlocked, you found yourself rarely wearing the clothes inside, opting instead for one of Steve’s t-shirts. They were warm and comfortable and whenever he had to leave you for work, they reminded you of him, comforting you in your loneliness. 

Right now you sat in your favourite armchair, curled up in one of Steve’s sweatshirts, staring blankly at Austen’s ‘Pride and Prejudice’ as you tried to distract yourself until Steve would get home. You still had no way of telling the exact time down in the basement but judging from the darkening sky outside, it was much later than he had said we would get home by. 

A small irrational bead of panic had started to build up in your stomach, making it impossible to concentrate on the novel in front of you. What if something had happened to him? What if the government had found him? What would that mean for you? No one knew where you were, you would stay trapped down here, just like you had been underneath that car. You couldn’t stop the thoughts as they raced through your mind, the flashes of the Battle, of those aliens preparing to kill you, the car weighing you down, the steel door trapping you inside. 

Your breaths became short, rapid, and shallow. You were struggling to get enough air in you as you stood from the armchair, fumbling your way over to the wall. The cool surface helped calm you somewhat through Steve’s sweatshirt as you slid down, falling to the floor.

This wasn’t your first time having a panic attack, some small part of your brain knew what to do, yet it had been so long, maybe two years since your last one that it all felt so new. When the feeling in your fingertips started to disappear it brought on a new wave of panic. The feeling slowly spread to your palms and then your forearms, and soon everything below the elbow was numb. As your tried to move your fingers, you were only met the a wave of white noise, complete blankness. There was nothing.

Tears had starts cascading down your cheeks by this point, your sobs mixing with your rapid breaths as you tried to get a grip on yourself but nothing was working. Everytime you tried to count your breaths you were met with even more panic, your brain not functioning enough to remember what number came next. 

You didn’t notice him until he was kneeling in front of you cradling you to his body, trying to ask what was wrong, what he could do to help. You couldn’t figure out quite what he was saying, but you knew he could help. ‘Please, Steve… Please. I can’t - I can’t feel my… my fingers. Please.’ 

Your words were a slurred and jumbled mess but Steve could understand what was happening. He had seen similar effects in many of his friends, particularly Bucky after he had come back from Hydra. Gently he released your body back to the wall, picking up both your hands in his and gently squeezing. 

‘Sweetheart? I need you to breathe with me. Please? Can you do that for me? Just one big breath in and out.’ His voice brought you slowly out of your haze, the minutes passed as he continued squeezing your fingers every now and then, your body following his as he breathed. 

You had no idea of how much time had passed, how long you had been sitting there, staring at him, breathing with him while he gently brought you back down. Eventually your tears stopped and he brought you back to his chest, wrapping his hands securely around your body as he stood, carrying you over to the bed and gently laying you down, crawling in beside you. 

Your brain was still foggy as you felt his hands brush down your back in soothing motions, the temptation to fall asleep was strong yet your brain was still too amped up. 

‘Do you want to talk about it Sweetheart?’ His voice was soft against the silence of the room and while you didn’t want to, you knew you should.

‘It’s just… you were gone for so long and I - I started panicking, thinking maybe you weren’t coming back and… and what would happen to me? I’m stuck down here, no one knows about me and it just… it just reminded me of the street, of the Chitauri, of being trapped.’

‘Shhh Sweetheart, you’re okay. It’s okay. I’m here, I’ll always be here. I got home a little bit but I wanted to prepare some dinner for us. I’m sorry I didn’t come down sooner.’ He tried to soothe you, pressing his lips to your temple but it wasn’t working.

‘Steve, I’m being serious. What would happen to me if something happened to you? I know you haven’t been going on as many missions recently but eventually something will come up and your team will need you. What will happen to me then? How will I eat? I’d starve to death down here.’ You tried to reason with him, make him see what you were trying to say as you felt his body tense underneath yours, probably thinking the worst. 

‘I just… Being back in New York has brought up so many memories that I would rather forget and being down here… without you I would die Stevie. You’re the only thing keeping me alive down here and I guess… I guess I would like some control - no, some independence maybe. Like, having a fridge down here or some non-perishable food, just so I know if something happens to you, I’ll be okay, for a few days at least.’ 

You could feel him nod above you as he took in your words, his hands never ceasing their soothing motions as he deliberated internally. ‘I’ll think about it, I promise Sweetheart. But you should know that if anything did happen to me, you would be okay. Bucky knows your down here, and he’ll know what to do.’ You didn’t know who Bucky was, but hearing that at least someone else knew you were down here made you feel better, despite the sliver of betrayal that peaked through. How could this Bucky know what Steve was doing and condone it? 

You tried to shake those thoughts from your head as you buried your head further into his chest, your eyes drifting close on their own accord as he continued to soothe you, his heart right underneath your head.

+

It was at breakfast the next day when Steve sprung his surprise on you. He had been pensive all of last night through dinner and then this morning while making breakfast, his brow furrowed in concentration. You had tried to ask what was wrong but he would just smile and shake off your question, redirecting the conversation elsewhere. While it did hurt that he didn’t want to talk to you about whatever was going on, you could understand, you thought that perhaps it was some Avengers business that he literally couldn’t tell you. 

The dishes were done and whatever dishes could be placed in the dishwasher were tucked away and you were mentally preparing yourself to go back down to the basement. Going back downstairs was your least favourite time of day. Everytime you hated having to say goodbye - no matter how temporary - to the upstairs rooms. You hadn’t seen much of the house but the rooms that you had been allowed into were all open planning, lots of windows and high lofty ceilings for light to filter in. As nice as the basement was, it had nothing on the rest of the house. 

You followed Steve through the hallway towards the door leading downstairs, confusion crossing your face when he didn’t stop, instead pausing by the staircase leading to the second story. ‘I thought about what you said last night Sweetheart and I want to show you something.’ He held his hand out which you gladly took in yours, watching as he started to climb the stairs.

Upstairs there was a small hallway, with four rooms coming off of it yet Steve walked past each room, pausing only at the door at the end of the hallway, casting one last glance down at you before he pushed the door open. 

You stepped into the bedroom, glancing around at the obscenely large bed, the plush chaise at the base of it, the floor to ceiling windows that carried in the sun’s morning light. You didn’t understand why he was showing you this, why he had brought you here instead of the basement. You confusion must have shown on your face as Steve took a deep breath, casting you yet another observing glance before apparently making his mind up.

‘This was my room, where I used to sleep, before you. I thought about what you said last night and you’ve been behaving so well recently and I was thinking that maybe, you were ready to come upstairs. There would be rules of course and punishments if you disobeyed, but I thought this was a good step forward and since the kitchen is right downstairs you won’t have to worry about starving if I’m not here.’ 

Before you could stop yourself you flung your body into his arms, you lips chanting ‘Yes, yes, a thousand times yes. I promise I’ll behave Stevie, I’ll be your good girl.’ You threw your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss as he adjusted his grip on your thighs as they wrapped themselves around his torso. 

You were elated as he carried you over to the bed, lying you down and pressing his firm body against yours. ‘What do you say we christen this bed right now?’ You couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle as you pried him from his shirt, pulling your own off soon after. You had big plans on how to christen this bed… 

+

Tags will be added in a reblog

XII. The Meeting

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

[space-------kid]

can’t keep my hands (off you).

Anime/Manga: One Punch Man Pairing: Garou/fem!Reader Additional pairing/characters: platonic Metal Bat/fem!Reader, Zenko, mentions of other heroes such as Saitama, Watchdog Man, etc. Genre: Romance, comedy Warning: Absolute silliness. Language – Garou and reader both ate rainbows for breakfast. Dumbassery. Teeth-rotting fluff, maybe? Reader is hella strong like Saitama. Half-assed spice because you’re good at cockblocking Garou despite being low-key thirsty for him. And LOTS of dumbassery from the reader, most probably. Additional tag: Dream-based fic, canon-divergent, Garou is horny af A/N: This is supposed to be a lengthy one-shot, but I’m a dumbass who can’t keep my word so the supposedly one-shot isn’t a one shot anymore.  Now I have to worry how I should properly divide all those parts (I mean, they’re already divided, but–) 😅

Garou thinks your thighs are great.

Summary:

Your life had its general ups and downs, pros and cons, the good and the bad.

You were admittedly a coward and afraid of being targeted by people for it. Following the advice of your (best) friend you trained hard, like, FUCKING hard, and now you’re blessedly, utterly strong you can take down enemies with just one hit. A good thing, really. Can’t let any bad guy harass you or something.

But-

You were probably cursed with the biggest, baddest of luck. Not only were monsters chasing you, suddenly there was this fucking hot bastard weirdo who kept on calling himself the Hero Hunter. “I’m not a hero, goddamn it!”

i. and ii. | iii. and iv. | [more to be added]

“i can’t keep my

hands

off…!”

- can’t keep my hands off you/simple plan

v.

You spend the following days feeding a stray wolf in your modest home.

In all honesty, you had no idea when Garou began coming in and out of your home as if he shared ownership of the place with you. It’s not like you invited him or anything when you brought his unconscious ass home the first time. You were just scared of leaving a possibly dead body back in K-City Nature Park that fateful day. Lucky for you he survived getting hit by you in your fight instinct two times in a row, yeah?

Maybe that was how far your luck would push itself, however, because every time the (admittedly) hot yet weird bastard stepped inside your quiet abode, he never failed to turn it – as well as yourself – upside down.

You were currently eating cold soba in the living room when you heard the tell-tale sound of your backdoor creaking. The house you’re living in – given to you by your parents when you turned seventeen – was located on the border of K-City, the next house closest to yours was almost 700 meters away from yours. This should’ve been a problem for any average coward, but you were a weird, introverted one since neighbors and the idea of them coming by to visit creeped the hell out of you.

The only downside you could think of when you moved out of your childhood home when you turned seventeen was that you were now living away from your parents and your best friend Badd and his little sister Zenko. Good thing public transportations were awesome, huh? And Badd was a pro-hero, an S-Class to boot, and so he’s got some privileges here and there which he never refused to share with you and your parents alongside Zenko.

Your heart beat began to increase in tempo when you recognized Garou’s footsteps padding somewhere in your kitchen. Sure enough, you heard the fridge door opened and slammed shut. Seconds later, the guy himself slid down the couch next to you, nursing a cold bottle of Coke.

Please don’t make me hit this dumbass again, you prayed to whoever might be listening. Please.

“Yo.”

Eyes narrowed, you simply shrugged in reply to his greeting and continued to aggressively eat your snack.

You could feel Garou shift beside you, throwing an arm behind you on the couch. His fingers were grazing your shoulder, and you could practically feel his gaze on you.

“You’re always staying home, [Name],” he commented and pulled the bottle cap off with his teeth – the absolute mad lad! “Don’t you go to school or something?”

You tilted your head to look at him, an eyebrow raised. “Well, you seem to always be wandering about, so… pot,” you replied then nudged your elbow on his side, “kettle.”

“Fair point,” said Garou, shrugging. “But to answer the question: I don’t need school. I already know everything I have to. You?”

“I graduated already when I was fifteen,” was your nonchalant reply. Garou choked on his drink and looked at you with what seemed to be admiration.

“Really? You’re strong, and you’re a nerd on top of that?” he exclaimed, grinning.

You could tell that he didn’t mean to use the term as an insult, and you bashfully averted your gaze in embarrassment.

“Badd also calls me that,” you mumbled unconsciously.

Garou blinked and looked at you curiously. “Eh? Who’s that?”

Somehow, you got the feeling that you didn’t need to tell him that your best friend was a hero. Well, Garou tried to beat you up when he mistook you for one, hadn’t he? Maybe you should just trust your gut feeling and forgo mentioning Badd’s title.

“Ah, he’s my best friend.”

There. Short and simple.

Garou stared at you for a solid five seconds, as if judging you for keeping him in the dark about Badd’s identity. Then he grinned again.

Fuck you and your paranoid ass.

“I thought you were gonna say boyfriend for a second,” he commented, leaning down at you. “Glad there’s no one stopping me from having my way with ya.”

Oh, god. And so it begins.

Eyes narrowed at the other teen, you quickly got up and repositioned yourself on the armchair beside the couch. You clutched your bowl of soba, your knees on your chest.

“Don’t you start again, Garou, I’m warning you,” you scolded him, trying and failing to sound stern. How could you when your heart was practically in your throat at the moment?

He pulled himself off the couch to follow you, bracing himself on the armrests of your seat and effectively caging you. Garou leaned down, eyes sparkling with mischief when he looked at you with mock innocence.

“I ain’t startin’ nothing, little lady,” he purred, smiling devilishly down at you. “And why did you move here? It’s much cosier on the couch with me on it.”

You pressed yourself further against the back of your seat when Garou fully invaded your personal space by lowering his face to yours. You could only watch as he took the chopsticks from your stiff fingers and began eating your snack, all the while keeping eye contact with you. You watched, entranced, as the noodles slipped between his lips.

“This is good,” said Garou through a mouthful of noodles. He took some and offered it to you, gazing at you expectantly. “Say ‘ah’.”

You sat there, forcing yourself to tear your gaze off his mouth and looked up at him dumbfounded. You could practically feel your face heating up in nervousness, your heart beating triple time as Garou waited for you to respond.

Mind on the brink of blanking out, you timidly opened your mouth and let him feed you. Your heart pounded in your ears and you could only hope that Garou wouldn’t hear. You tried hard not to squirm under his intense gaze when he pressed the tips of your chopsticks on his bottom lip.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

From attacking you twice because he mistook you for a hero, you suddenly ended up with him raiding your house every now and again to grab some grub and some bandages to patch himself up from whatever the hell he was doing. And now he seemed to be hell-bent on teasing you and making you flustered.

Did he have nothing better to do than to mess with you like this?

“Say, [Name]…” he said, voice low and gaze smoldering.

“W-What?” you stammered, eyes hurting from how wide they were while you looked back up at him.

Garou dipped his head lower, nose touching yours. You couldn’t close your eyes, afraid that he would take advantage and do something weird.

Like what? Kiss you?

If he could read your thoughts, he would be cringing by now with your incoherent mental screaming.

“Do you mind if I…”

Golden eyes left yours as they turned downwards to gaze at your trembling lips. Garou moved-

You closed your eyes.

“Do you mind if I get some of this for myself? I’m starvin’.”

Wait. Why did his voice sound far away now-?

You opened your eyes to see Garou standing up straight before you, one hand resting on his hip. He was looking at you eagerly, head cocked to the side and a tell-tale grin on his lips.

Thoroughly mortified for falling for this jerk’s teasing, your leg shot up to kick him where the sun didn’t shine, annoyance rising in your chest as Garou cackled at you and easily moved out of your range.

“Hey now, what’s with that red face?” he laughed at you. “Where you hoping for something?”

Afraid that you might say something stupid if you thoughtlessly took the bait, you carefully and thoroughly thought of a reply as you rose to your feet and shoved your bowl at him.

“Yeah, I was!” you replied, sarcasm dripping in your voice. “I was waiting for a monster to crash on my doorstep and kick your stupid ass!”

Maaaybe you shouldn’t have kid about that last part because true to your word, your house was shaken by a loud explosion, followed by a booming roar. You – albeit apprehensively – and Garou rushed out to look where it came from, and the two of you saw a fifteen-foot tall frog-like monster with disgusting tentacles coming out of its mouth.

You and your dumb bad luck.

The frightening creature turned its gaze at you to your house, its tentacles wriggling lecherously.

The bowl you were holding fell on the wooden porch but you didn’t even notice.

Disgust and terror swamped your entire being and you had blacked out before you knew it, Garou letting out a surprised noise as he caught you before you hit the ground.

F̖̜̳̼̏͛͐̈̚͢Ḭ̵̛̦̣͓̣̾̎̎̑̋̊͊͘G̷̛̛͇̮͍̰̒͗̾̌̚͟Ḩ̷̢͚͇̅̇͊̅̆̓̉̎̋͘͟T̸̨̛̗̩͎̞̟̾̿̾̍̾̃̈̓͟

 .

.

.

To Garou, monsters and the thought of them winning were the only fascinating things worth spending his time on.

He aspired to be one, the kind that would plunge the world in utter terror. The absolute evil that would be the world’s greatest enemy. The world itself was unfair, so why not become the most unfair being there was if only it could mean that humanity would unite under a single flag and create the ultimate hero to beat the God-level calamity he aspired to be?

In order to achieve his dream, he had to establish a routine that he must follow single-mindedly: beat the admirable heroes and let each victory be his step into reaching his goal of becoming a true monster.

Fate must’ve been smiling at him lately, to Garou’s absolute glee. Not only had he single-handedly took down a room full of ruffians and three A-Class heroes back at the Hero Association HQ, he had also beaten some other heroes the following days with the addition of an S-Class to boot!

Yeah, Fate had been kind to him, but Lady Luck had thrown him a huge curveball in the form of dainty little you.

Garou was a prodigy, a martial arts genius that even the old geezer Bang praised back then (before he was expelled from the master and creator of the Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist style’s dojo). He was a force to be reckoned with during a fight, his tremendous strength backed by his astounding reflexes and ingenuity.

They were nothing against your unpredictability and shockingly overwhelming strength, however.

“Oi, [Name], you scaredy cat,” Garou called you, shaking you awake ever so slightly as the monster’s rampage took it nearer to your house. “Is this really the time you should be fainting?”

Losing to you twice had been a huge bruise-inducing slap to his ego, something he would never admit. He even learned jack shit during those encounters other than the fact that he seemingly can’t find nor predict ways on how to counter your moves – I mean, how could you hypothesise an attack from someone who showed no interest in fighting, someone whose body language only seemed to scream “don’t fight me, please”? He ought to beat you to a pulp for all of that, but-

You opened your eyes to reveal the same dull look they had when you beat Garou, your face devoid of any emotion. The hairs on the back of Garou’s neck stood on end, a chill creeping down his spine when you idly removed yourself from his arms.

He watched as you took a step forward and leaped towards the monster in the blink of an eye. Garou’s golden gaze widened as you lifted one of your legs and brought it down on the monster’s head with unparalleled force, crushing its huge head and body on the process. You then somersaulted away as what recognizable remains of the beast crashed, the mysterious being dead before it could hit the ground.

Garou remained where he stood on your porch as you turned around and marched back to your house, still wearing that expressionless look. What surprised him the most when you reached him was the minute quirk that appeared on your lips when you turned your dull gaze on him.

The self-proclaimed Hero Hunter’s only reason for taking interest on the strong was because of their – well – strength and fighting capabilities. You have them, you definitely do when you were in this state where something (your fighting instincts, maybe?) seemed to take a hold of you to fight and defend yourself on the process. But there was something hot arousing appealing on seeing a small and delicate cowardly woman go “instant kill” mode and thrash monsters regardless of their size and strength with just one hit.

Now this was the reason why Garou kept on coming to your humble abode unannounced and incessantly teased the hell out of you. He wanted to see more of this side of yours, and maybe gear up a mock fight or two?

But, nah. There’s no appeal in losing to you a third time if that was possible.

His rational side agreed with that kind of reasoning.

Teenage hormones, the one he successfully kept locked for the whole duration of his puberty, thought otherwise.

Garou grinned widely at the warring sides of his brain as you snapped out of your trance and squealed pathetically at the green blood of the monster that had splattered on you.

Maybe losing to you again wouldn’t be so bad as long as he got his head crushed between those killer thighs of yours.

---

to be continued

[jadedjo]

Author Meme

I was tagged by @myevilmouse

Author name: JadeDjo

Fandoms you write for: Star Wars (OT & Legends)  How To Train Your Dragon, & Supernatural (the last 2 not so much anymore. Star Wars is my One True Fandom)  

Where you post: Most fics are AO3 and some old ones (read: unfinished) are on FanFiction.net

Most popular one shot:  Both my most popular stories are from HTTYD. Wild is most popular on FF.net and Let It Be leads on AO3

Most popular multi-chapter: Does this include unfinished fics? Because Ragnarök, an unfinished WWII!AU fo HTTYD is the most popular. But with only 2 chapters and a WIP languishing on my hard drive, I feel bad for the people who subscribed. 

Favourite story you wrote: That is a hard one as I love them all in different ways. But I love The Void as of right now for actual published fics. But when I start posting Apocalypse Yavin for the 2019 Halloween Fic then it will take the top spot.

Story you were nervous to post: Hands down, I Get Off. My first venture into PWP I almost posted under a pseudonym. Now it's my most popular Star Wars fic.

How do you choose your titles: Most of my titles are song titles. I try and find songs that match the theme or tone and that convey some of that in the title. Everything else it just up in the air.

Do you outline: I’m a pantser who is scared of outlining. It feels like every time I outline an idea I lose interest in the fic. But conversely, if I don’t ouline I lose the idea. 

Complete:  17 of 22 not including drabbles and series. From now on the fic must be complete before posting begins.  

In progress: Too many. Too, too many. You can read about them here

Coming soon:

Apocalypse Yavin

Reeling from the revelations that Vader is his father, needing to get used to a malfunctioning new right hand, and having to save his friend from carbonite, Luke is sent on a quest to find a kyber crystal for a new lightsaber. Unfortunately for him, Yavin IV is where he can find one. The moon is now a hellscape from the death throes of the Death Star and he has the eerie feeling that something in the Force is there, in pain, crying out for release.

First chapter going up October 1st.

Upcoming story you are most excited to write: The Fic Whining Circle has reminded me of Admiral Luke Skywalker, disenfranchised with his life but soldiering on until Mara Jade comes into his life and turns it upside down. Throw in Grand Admiral Thrawn and a threat from the Unknown Regions and a smutty one shot is turning into a large multi chapter fic.

Do you accept prompts: I have never been cold promoted. Most if my ficlets are made up of dialogue and kiss prompts that I randomly chose. But if someone wants to prompt me, go for it. But I can't guarantee when it'll get done :)

If you feel like sharing @jadelotusflower @arielsojourner @elfpen @radioactivepeasant

Otherwise share 'em if you got 'em

[irondadgroupie]

16. BEDRIDDEN

I swear I tried to make this more hopeful but yeah, apparently angst just keeps popping up into my fics. 

....

The heart monitor provided the rhythm. Ventilator completed the soundtrack.

Tony rolled his head, trying to ease the knots open and sighed heavily.

Peter lied on the bed, his eyes taped shut, tube in his mouth connected to a ventilator. His chest rose up and down with the cool air. Countless lines and wires invaded his body, Tony had half a mind to rip them all off but the rational part of his brain knew they were all needed.

The door opened.

“Hey,” May whispered with a tired voice, Tony gave a small smile but it died fast. He accepted the take away cup of coffee.

“How is he?”

“The same,” The man shrugged and took a sip. He wondered which would happen first: Peter waking up or him getting an ulcer from the stress and poor diet. “The nurse sucked off the mucus from the breathing tube.”

“Good,” The woman nodded and took a seat. “His vitals?”

“Nothing much.”

“Did you read to him?”

“Yeah,” Tony pointed at the latest issue of EMPIRE. “We got to page 78 before my voice gave up. Then I put on some music, our lab soundtrack.”

May gave a small laugh: “I saw a dream last night where we put on Another One Bites The Dust and Peter woke up with a head bang.”

Tony chuckled at the thought and the memory of the kid doing the exact thing in the lab. Peter had smacked his head on the counter and sported an impressive bruise on his forehead for the rest of the day.

……

Tony was dozing, almost asleep on an awkward position. He had considered joining the kid on the bed but with his luck, he would most likely kill the boy by blocking the IV.

Peter’s body was cold, extra heat would not do any harm. He needed to speak to the doctor about it.

“Mr Stark.”

The man turned his head to the door where a nurse was standing. His chair was practically stopping anyone from entering the room.

“Would you like to help? I’m moving Peter into another position so he doesn’t get bed sores.”

Tony nodded and stood up. He walked to Peter who was on his bed, his life depending on the machines that provided him air and nutrients.

“Hey there, Pete,” He stroked the boy’s hair. Peter’s response was mechanical puff as air escaped his lungs. “We’re doing little stretching today.”

The nurse gently pushed Peter off his back and Tony maneuvered him onto his right side. The woman positioned pillows to keep him in place.

“This seems fine,” She checked the monitors and wires, Tony had eyes only for his boy. He had hoped, unrealistically and against everything he knew, that the change would jolt Peter out of his coma.

The woman gave him sad smile.

“He will get better. Peter is progressing every day.”

“Not fast enough for me,” Tony shook his head.

What if this would become his normal?

….

“Hello, kid,” Tony gave his usual greeting, set a cup of coffee on the bedside table and bent over to kiss the boy’s forehead. “Do you know what day today is?”

The table was filled with get well cards and dead flowers. The man frowned, he needed to replace them.

“Today is sports day,” He took a seat and rolled up his sleeves. “You love going to the gym. It is not possible today so we need to improvise.”

A physiotherapist had come up with regime that would prevent muscle loss. Tony wanted to cry at how frail his boy was starting to look. Despite regularly moving Peter’s limbs and rubbing his muscles, his toned body was getting thin and weak.

“In,” He moved the boy’s knee towards his chest. “And out,” He stretched out the leg, mindful of the catheter line. “That’s it.”

When legs were done, he sat down and began to work on Peter’s left arm.

“Never say I did nothing for you.”

Peter’s body inhaled.

“I’m sorry,” Tony shook his head as he fisted and relaxed Peter’s hand. “You are always so grateful for every little thing I do.”

The boy slept on.

“Remember the first time you spent the night here, at the Tower? I ordered us pizza, one for each. I had no idea you needed more food to keep with that bottomless pit of yours,” The man chuckled. “FRIDAY woke me up and told you were in distress. You were just starving and dared not go to the kitchen, fearing I would get mad at you. Remember what happened then?”

Peter’s chest rose and fell.

“That’s right! We had our own little feast. I made you pasta and grilled cheese sandwiches in the middle of the night. You were practically in tears and telling me “No, Mr Stark, I can make do with just a yogurt, honestly””

That was his boy, used to so little any act of kindness made his world turn upside down.

….

“Good morning,” Tony opened the door with some difficulty, his hands were practically full of flowers.

“How are we doing today?” He set the fresh flowers down and began the morose task of taking the dead plants from the vases. He had been certain they would not need to replace them, Peter would certainly wake up before that. He had half a mind to keep them but the thought flew away as the petals and leaves crumbled into his fingers.

“Let’s play a little game today,” Tony opened the paper wrap and took out a bouquet of white flowers. “Try to guess what it is. I know you love biology but honestly, I think you need a little crash course in plants.”

He placed the gift under the boy’s nose. Tony had chosen the flowers with the strongest yet sweetest aroma. Yes, he knew Peter was not breathing himself but maybe the scent would wake some part of his brain and help him escape coma.

“This one,” He opened another packet after putting the first batch into a vase,” is my personal favorite. You need to tell me your favorite flowers, I can bring them if I didn’t get it right.”

Peter slept on. His nose didn’t twitch as the petals tickled his skin.

“Try it,” Tony opened the boy’s hand and guided it to the flower. “Feels a little rough, right?”

He moved Peter’s fingers along the petals and leaves. There was no reaction and Tony was growing desperate. He had half a mind to start pinching Peter in all places to help him gain awareness.

“Then,” He opened the last bouquet ,”is the last one, a cliché but it still works.”

Tony had never enjoyed the smell of roses but they were standard, obligation even.

“I know you know red roses mean love,” He watched his boy, eyes glistening. The situation was getting too much. For weeks they had hoped and waited, prayed and wished for a sign, some change. Uncertainty was the worst. According to doctors, there was no knowing how long Peter was going to sleep. There was so much they didn’t know about Peter.

“I wish something would happen,” Tony whispered. “It pains me to see you wither away here. I just-“ He turned his eyes to the ceiling as he tried to control his emotions. “I just wish for a sign, of good or bad. So I- so we would know what is going on.”

The ventilator and heart monitor were the only sound in the room.

“I don’t know where you are. Are you in heaven? Is this a limbo? Or are you just sleeping? Do you know what is happening? Are you aware?” He looked around. “Are you here with me now?”

Peter gave no response. Tony sniffed, placed the roses on another vase and sighed heavily. He rubbed his eyes and moved his hand grasp Peter’s.

“If you hear me, kid, I need to tell you this,” He stroked the knuckles with his thumb; Peter’s skin was cool, almost cold. “You are so loved. You have no idea how much we all love you. We want you back and will do anything to get you back.”

“But,” Tony gulped and stroked the boy’s hair with other hand. “I- I know you suffer sometimes. I know it is difficult. So-“ His voice nearly died, he could not believe what he was about to say. “If you want to leave, you may. I- I give you permission to give up but I so wish you wouldn’t . You- it gets better- but if this is some self-inflicted limbo then- you may let go.”

He paused.

He expected the heart monitor to go crazy and eventually flat line.

But nothing happened.

“Oh thank Jesus,” Tony breathed out after tense waiting. Tears spilled from his eyes and he hid his face into Peter’s stomach. If the boy had died- they would have had two bodies to take care of.

“I’m not ready to give up on you, Pete,” He turned his head so he could look into Peter’s face. “You may sleep as long as you want. I promise, I’ll be waiting for you right here. I won’t go anywhere.”

Tony closed his eyes, lulled into exhaustion by the sound of Peter’s heart beating.

[voldiebuns]

Pinto de Mayo: Part III

So last year I started a fic for Pinto de Mayo and for whatever reason got distracted and didn’t finish. So I decided it was a good idea to finish it for this year!

This ficlet brought to you by the words red, sexy, and love.

Part I | Part II | Part IV

Read the whole thing on AO3.

Chris was halfway through a pint of caramel swirl ice cream from his newly acquired ice cream stash, leaned over a pile of pillows as another Hallmark movie played on the tv, when he heard the doorbell ring. He sighed, wondering if he should just ignore it.

The doorbell rang again, then a fist pounded on the door a second later, dashing his hopes of just sitting there until they went away. Grumbling to himself, he set his ice cream on the side table and headed for the door. This better be really important.

He opened the door, mouth opened to chew out whoever was on the other side for bothering him, but the words died on his lips when he saw who it was.

“Zach?”

“Hey,” Zach replied, looking a little sheepish even in the wan glow of the porch light. He wasn’t making eye contact, gaze somewhere past Chris’ head. “Sorry for coming so late. And not calling. But I… I didn’t like how we left things at brunch.”

Chris nodded, standing aside for Zach to enter. There was a sick, worried feeling growing in the pit of his stomach that he’d been able to mostly push aside before, until he had to see Zach face to face again.

They settled onto the couch, the silence between them more awkward than Chris thought it had ever been. He waited for Zach to say something, since he’d been the one to come over, but Zach still wasn’t even looking at him. Chris cleared his throat, wondering if he should start talking instead.

Thankfully, that seemed to be all it took to break Zach from whatever standstill he’d been at though. He turned to face Chris a little more fully, one leg pulled up onto the cushion, brushing against Chris’ knee. The spot where they touched seemed hotter than normal, burning like a fire, but Chris was pretty sure that was all in his head.

Zach took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, like he was doing yoga. He finally turned to look at Chris. “I just needed-” He stopped short, face going an interesting shade of red. “You look really sexy.”

Chris looked down at himself, shirtless with yesterday’s sweatpants way too loose around his hips even while sitting. His hair was probably a mess, and there was a high likelihood that there was a fabric impression on his cheek from sitting hunched over on the couch for so long. Not exactly sexy material.

“I don’t think-” he started, unsure of what was going on with Zach right now.

“Sorry, that’s not what I wanted to say,” Zach broke in, shaking his head. He took another breath, his cheeks still flushed. “I wanted to talk about what Marie said. About me having feelings for you.”

“Alright…” That was not really unexpected, but Chris wasn’t sure what else there was to say about it. It wasn’t true, and the imaginary possibility of it seemed only to be hurting all of his relationships. “I already said I told her it wasn’t true.”

“That’s what I wanted to talk about. Because it is true,” Zach said. His voice was cautious, like he was afraid of spooking Chris. “I love you, Chris, and not only as my best friend.”

Chris’ breath caught in his throat as he tried to process the words he’d just heard. It had been in the back of his mind ever since Marie had suggested it, but he’d never actually thought it was true. To have it put so bluntly was throwing him off quite a bit; it was terrifying and wonderful and he struggled to find something, anything, to say in response.

“Don’t you have…” Chris wracked his mind for a name and came up with nothing. “Whichever twink you’re dating these days?”

“Twink?” Zach asked, like he was offended. They both knew he really had nothing he could say against it. Anyone who had ever read a magazine or seen a paparazzi picture probably knew that.

“What I mean to say is that I don’t want to be the homewrecker in your relationship, Zach,” Chris said, a crooked grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. His heart was beating hard in his chest. “No matter how you or I feel, that’s not the kind of person I am or want to be.”

Zach was already shaking his head before Chris even finished talking. “We broke up weeks ago, and surprisingly there hasn’t been anybody since,” he said, a little wryly. He paused, for a moment that felt like an eternity. “You said no matter how either of us feels.”

“I did,” Chris replied, licking his suddenly dry lips.

Zach’s eyes darted down for a split second and Chris decided to just say fuck it and go all in. It probably couldn’t hurt their relationship at this point. There was only an upside.

He leaned forward for a kiss, and Zach met him in the middle without a second of hesitation.

[amillionmillionvoices]

Ohhhhh could you do the 19? For River and Twelve? Please?

For one long, piercing moment, he thinks it didn’t work. He feels the regeneration energy under his skin, feels every cell in his body for, feels nothing. Everything is black and empty and cold, so cold, and he can’t feel his body, the ground, the air.

He opens his eyes and sees blue.

Blue, and the edges of green - leaves, he thinks - and a single, white cloud.

“Finally,” a voice says from somewhere to his left. “Took you long enough.”

It’s familiar, but not terribly so, and, if he’s not mistaken, cross.

Very, very cross.

Arching his neck, he sees the upside down figure of a woman standing over him, arms crossed, looking none too happy but faintly relieved.

“Where am I?”

“Where you intended to be, I hope,” she says curtly.

The Doctor sits up slowly, sees lush green and hears soft birdsong and her— “Anita.”

She arches an eyebrow. “Surprised you remember me.”

“I always remember the brave ones.”

She flushes, but her dour expression doesn’t change, and he clambers to his feet, brushing grass off his trousers.

“Are you going to make me guess?”

Anita huffs. “I should. You deserve a little punishment.”

The Doctor runs a hand through his hair. “How long—?”

“Too long,” she snaps, then takes pity on him. “She’s in the library.”

Some horror or dread must show on his face, because Anita smirks and shakes her head.

“The library here,” she says, inclining her head toward the mansion in the distance. “Come in, I’ll show you.”

The walk is long, despite his clipped pace, but it gives him time to catch his bearings - to feel the ground under his feet, the wind against his face. Everything feels real and whole and free of pain, but not the thrumming anxiety under his skin.

“Back of the house,” Anita says when they reach the door. “Third room on your right. Don’t screw this up.”

He nods, wonders when Anita became his wife’s protector, wonders how many years, decades, centuries—

He stalls that line of thought before it can take root.

The library is easy enough to find, a cavernous room with high shelves and a fireplace and quiet music coming from a speaker somewhere. Light streams in through the windows, makes it feel like home, but it’s nothing compared to how he feels when he sees her, curled up on a sofa with a heavy tomb in her lap.

He doesn’t know what to say. He feels too off kilter for their usual greetings, ones that are too light for the moment, for the enormity of what he’s done, finally, after all this time.

“If you’re looking for a doubles partner, it’s going to have to wait,” she says, eyes still glued to her book. “I’m halfway through the fall of Titus IV and I’m not in the mood to watch your vain attempts at impressing Miss Evangelista.”

He almost laughs.  “You play tennis now?”

Terrible first words, he thinks, worse than any he’s had before.  River’s entire body stiffens, her eyes trapped on whatever word she’d last read, fingers curling into fists.

“If this is some kind of joke, so help me—”

“River.”

He doesn’t know when he moved, how he managed it, but he’s standing over her when she looks up, her eyes wide and wet, lips parted.  The book falls from her lap with a heavy thud, but she ignores it. She stares at him, hand reaching for him then falling away, and the guilt sits in his chest like a writhing thing, makes him feel sick.

He tries to smile, for her, but it comes out weak and lopsided. He doesn’t back away when she stands, so slowly, and it feels like so many mornings on Darillium, River in his shirt and bare feet, arching up on her toes to kiss him good morning, or good afternoon, or hello.

She stares, and he stares back, and really he should have expected it, but the ringing slap that echos in the room and spikes pain down his neck catches him off guard.

He grunts, turning his eyes back to glare at her as he rubs at his cheek, but it’s mitigated by the tears in her eyes and the way she swallows, her fingers flexing against her thigh.

“Just checking,” she says, though her voice is raspy, and he can’t help the quirk of his lips.

“Slapping me was your only option?”

She purses her lips. “No. But it is my preferred method.”

He sighs. “I suppose I deserved that.” He glances down, and notices her hands are shaking, trembling violently against her sides, and he reaches out before he can stop himself taking both in his own and holding them close.

“River.”

“You’re here?”

He nods, and kisses her knuckles.  “I’m here.”

“This isn’t a trick?”

“No trick.  I’m dead.  Well—changed. You know how it is.”

“And you—stopped to visit?”

The way her voice breaks, the disbelief, coils tightly in his chest.

“No, River,” he murmurs.  “I’m here. For good.”

Her eyes widen, lips parting and he wants to kiss her, wants to hold her, wants to wrap her up and tell her over and over and over again how much he missed her, how much he loves her, how dear and precious and everything she is to him.

“But—why?”

It cuts through him, such a simple question, so much if you ever loved me and the Doctor does not, and has never, loved me etched in the words that he has to close his eyes for a moment, has to even his breathing, the rapid tattoo of his hearts.

“Guess I just can’t stay away from you,” he says, so softly, and hopes she knows, hopes she can see it burning in his eyes, the words he now has an eternity to say.  And he will. Not now, not when they’re both too frayed, River too unsure to properly believe him. But someday. Soon.

“Idiot,” she says, and then her arms are around his neck and her lips against his and he cradles her to him, warm and safe.

Alive, he thinks, and it isn’t sad at all.

[request a fic]

[onceuponaprincessworld]

CaptainSwan MC FF Recs

Hello everyone, there are so many great fics in this fandom by very talanted authors,  so here is a new list of some COMPLETE Multichapter Fics that are totally worth reading. Hope you enjoy!   😉  📖

If you are looking for more recs you can find my others lists here.

P.s I try to tag authors by their tumblr name, if you know any that I haven’t tagged please let me know. 

a one time thing (and other untruths), @weezlywrites

"She supposes the reason she tells him is the same reason she kept his phone number after all those weeks." Pregnancy has a way of throwing a wrench in one's plans.

More Than A Memory, @ive-always-been-a-pirate

He didn't remember much. He didn't remember her. The accident changed their lives and sent Emma into a tailspin, desperate for Killian to come back to her. But when he finally wakes up from his coma, the past six years are gone. He has no recollection of their love, but Emma refuses to give up on them. She's got her work cut out for her, but some memories are worth fighting for.

Out of the Frying Pan,  @welllpthisishappening​

Emma Swan is only doing this for one reason, well, make that two. To get her show’s numbers back up and, maybe, impress her son. She doesn’t like admitting to that second one though.

Killian Jones is doing this for absolutely, positively, just one reason. To expand his restaurant. And maybe get Regina off his back. So that’s kind of two reasons.

Neither one of them is doing a year-long Food Network all-star competition because they’re celebrity chefs and there’s not really any other choice. Of course not. And neither one of them is enjoying it because they maybe, kind of, sort of enjoy each other. That would be insane.

The Usual Story!, @icapturedkindness

What happens when the hot guy Emma yelled at in Starbucks for spilling her coffee, is her devilishly handsome and rich playboy new boss Killian Jones?

A Ghost in Me, @madjm

AU. Killian Jones is a master thief, known only as Hook. His life is complicated when he's asked to steal a necklace from security expert Emma Swan, and it opens up their shared past. 

Search and Rescue,  onceuponajollyroger

When Killian Jones, a rescue swimmer for the US Coast Guard, pulled Emma Swan from the unforgiving sea he had no idea she would end up rescuing him right back. [Captain Swan Modern AU]

Flight, @captainoftherollyjoger

Emma has been asked to move to England for six months for work. With a six month old baby boy, it isn't exactly ideal. On the flight she meets a kind stranger who turns her entire world upside down.

Caribbean Shores, @whimsicallyenchantedrose

AU. After a nasty breakup with her long-time boyfriend, Emma Swan takes a job as the security guard at Once Upon a Time Academy. She reluctantly agrees to attend the school’s annual fundraising gala, Caribbean Shores. Prepared for a boring night, Emma has no idea what’s in store for her when Killian Jones, the sexy new owner of the Jolly Roger Marina, is seated next to her.

Separate Lives, @lenfaz

Set after 3x20 "Kansas". After saving the town one more time, Emma decided to return to New York, leaving her past behind. Three years later, she realizes that might be not have been the best decision.

not a romcom movie, @captainnagata

Modern Lieutenant Duckling. "I'm not interested in being made the butt monkey of the school, or being some social experiment where you're trying to have me elected prom king or what have you, until we realise we've been falling in love all along and have our first kiss on an Adele song. Not interested. Savvy?" "I – I'm not planning to fall in love with you." "Good. Neither am I."

Make You Feel My Love, @xerxesrises

Emma Swan is trying to make her way in the world with her young son, Henry, and failing miserably. Enter Killian Jones, a damaged soul himself, and his young son, Liam. Can these two broken people build a life and a family together? Modern AU.

Lethologica, @lifeinahole27

Maybe if they could find the right word to describe their friendship, everything else would fall into place.

Icing on the Cake, @startswithhope

"is that REALLY what you want us to write on your custom-order cake?"

Modern AU / Killian and Emma meet over the phone and enter into an unlikely partnership.

Knock, Knock, @charmingturkeysandwich

Emma Swan has made the best of her crappy apartment ever since she became best friends with her neighbor, Ruby. But when Ruby moves out and a loud Brit takes her place, the thin walls and lack of space are suddenly not so endearing. After a particularly stressful day, Emma decides to confront the nightmare next door, and entirely against her better judgment, she might just be making a friend.

The Pirate Next Door,  @the-captains-ayebrows

Captain Swan Modern AU: A handsome stranger moves into the apartment right next to Emma Swan’s. Emma isn’t ready for romance, but what harm could come of making friends with the charming self-proclaimed “pirate” whose bedroom shares a wall with hers?

This Time Around, @shippingtheswann

Emma is working as a fourth year resident at a hospital when a ghost from her past shows up and throws everything for a loop! Can Emma work through her past feelings and fears and allow Killian back into her life? CS AU

Theoretically, @this-too-too-sullied-flesh

Emma's friend Killian has a reputation for sleeping around (and so does she). When he gives her a surprising gift on her thirtieth birthday, something about it unleashes the question she's been wondering for years: is he really as good as they say?

The Kilted Stripper,  @hooklineandswan

AU. If someone would have told her a month ago that she would fall in love with a stripper she would have called them insane because that would never happen to Emma Swan. At least not until she met Killian Jones.

Recipe For Disaster,  Librarybelle

Michelin Star Chef Killian Jones is surprised when he see Social worker Emma Swan eating alone in his restaurant. After a short meal together he is hooked, only problem is she's dating his sous chef! CS Modern AU!

The Trouble with Faking It, @nowforruin

Killian Jones is one drunken mistake from never setting foot on a movie set again. Enter Emma Swan, the woman his manager has paid to pretend to date him and clean up his image. It seems straightforward enough…but there’s always trouble with faking it.

Perched a Few Feet Above the Water, @irishswan

Killian is a single father. He and his 2 year old child are lounging by a public pool when his child accidentally falls in the water. Emma is the lifeguard that saves the kid’s life.

Open Your Eyes,  Montana-Rosalie

Killian leads a lonely life growing flowers. Emma hadn't seen color in a long time.

Sharing Space, @singingisfun

After two years, Emma comes for visit and Killian offers to let her use his room while she’s there.

Poem Without Words, @totheendoftheworldortime

Looking to make some extra money, college senior Emma Swan takes a post as a model for Professor Killian Jones' art class. Sparks fly on both sides. Will they give into temptation?

As Real As You Want It To Be, @ive-always-been-a-pirate

Teaching at the same school as Killian Jones was both infuriating and distracting, but when he throws Emma under the bus for the last time, she devises a plan to get back at him. After all, nobody likes to go to a wedding alone. Time for some CS AU fake dating :) Rated M for possible smut & sassy language.

Warm Nights & Firelight, @oubliette14

When in the wake of a messy breakup Emma makes the impulsive decision to return home to her parent's ranch in the Rockies, she certainly doesn't expect to find a strange Irish guy living in what was once her apartment over the garage, and she definitely doesn't imagine that the home she couldn't wait to be rid of five long years ago would be the very place her heart begins to heal.