#was supposed to be about something completely different but I think I like the direction it ended up going down more
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im-an-anthusiast · 11 months ago
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Scribbles 
Fresh inspiration – tearing from a vein 
Fresh inspiration – feeling just like pain 
Amateur scribbles – about things long passed 
Amateur scribbles – can't describe the past 
Gaze of longing eyes – making me so sick 
All those pretty lies – really make things tick 
Tick and churn it does – self-harming clockwork 
Doesn’t reach the eyes – but there is a smirk 
Same inspiration – deep in arteries 
Same inspiration – can't tell what it is 
Repeating scribbles – much alike last time 
Repeating scribbles – using the same rhyme 
Not gladly thought of – false hopes, for a way 
Not truly told off – so can’t stay away 
Worthy of a scoff – these sweet thoughts I loathe 
Something to write of – untruths to unclothe 
Old inspiration – an escape it seeks 
Old inspiration – drink it, if it leaks 
Recycled scribbles – differently disguised  
Recycled scribbles – just slightly revised 
The point fades quickly – already unmade 
Was it felt deeply? If it was mislaid? 
Forgotten swiftly – as should be the case 
All gone, finally! Was too hard to face 
Stale inspiration – flowing there and back 
Stale inspiration – coloured deeply black 
Unchanging scribbles – looping and looping 
Unchanging scribbles – lower still, stooping 
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fantasmadelaciudad · 2 months ago
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the reason i’m bad at writing poetry (and writing in general) isn’t really because i’m a bad writer i don’t think. it’s because i can’t stand the idea of someone not understanding innately what i’m trying to say. so all my stuff ends up being too obvious. hand holding you through the whole thing because ambiguity makes my skin crawl. if i’m gonna say something i need you To Understand. you understand.
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thinkinonsense · 6 months ago
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FANTASIZE❦
old!logan howlett x fem!reader
*mdni
cw: cursing, nsfw, age gap (reader is twenty-five)
wc: 1k+
a/n: i have no idea where this came from. i was supposed to be working on something completely different but apparently, this needed to be written first instead. yes it is inspired by the unreleased ariana grande song.
⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰
Logan couldn't read minds. He never longed for the ability or power; he was better off not knowing what others had going on in their heads. He only wanted to peek into someone's mind when he caught your twinkling eyes lingering in his direction. Luckily, he could still read your mind even without the mutation because your fantasies were written all over your face.
It was obvious to anyone caught in the same room as you and Logan, that there was tension. You burned holes all over his body with your intense gaze. If Logan was in the mood to entertain your little crush, he could compliment you in a way that was sure to make you blush.
"Good form today, kid."
"Lookin' pretty today, sweetheart."
"Lemme fix that lipstick, dollface." That one left you with an ache in between your thighs as his thumb brushed your lower lip. "Can't have you walkin' around here a mess, now can we?"
Logan wasn't sure if he would ever make it to heaven but seeing your lip tremble with need was close enough for him.
If he saw you in a dress with a pair of mary-jane's, he would try to catch a glimpse of your underwear in the reflection of your shoes. It didn't always work but it made him feel young again.
No one was brave enough to address it due to him being twice your age. Despite being twenty-five years old and already having graduated from the school, it was still considered taboo to some. If anyone asked Logan about it, he would brush it off as a schoolgirl crush that you would eventually grow out of.
It was truly harmless he thought. You got the attention you craved and Logan got to see a pretty young woman squirm in her seat because of him. It never went further than flirtatious comments and lingering stares.
Today might be the worst day of your life. You and Logan were being sent out together on a mission to find a mutant that lived two hours away. It wasn't the mission that worried you; it was being stuck in a tiny car with only Logan for one hundred and twenty minutes.
"Why aren't 'cha talkin', dollface?" Logan asked, almost teasingly.
For almost twenty minutes, he was aware of your eyes watching his hand hold the wheel. Logan was also incredibly aware of the effect it had on you. A little broken sigh escapes you when his hand clenches tighter around the leather, making his veins pop even more.
"Too busy fantasizing 'bout me?"
No matter how much you tried to find someone your age to be with, your heart always went back to Logan. He treated you differently than anyone you've ever met. Sure, sometimes he made you feel like a kid but he also knew you could handle your own. Logan wouldn't let anyone underestimate you; that kept you crawling back to him.
"Maybe I am." You shrug, fed up with his games.
"Oh, yeah?" He says, taking a deep inhale of your sent. "What's goin' on in that pretty head of yours, hm?"
You were used to Logan's overly confident personality that he tried to use to intimidate you; and make you stumble over your words. It wasn't gonna work this time. Logan wanted you just as much as you wanted him, but you needed him to admit it first.
"Us in the backseat of the car." You admit, biting the inside of your cheek nervous for his response.
"Really? And what are we doing back there?" He asked, cocking his head curiously as his eyes remained glued to the road.
"You're on top of me, makin' me feel good." Your words were coy but that was the point. Logan liked being the tease; having all the power.
"Keep talkin', dollface."
There it was. You had him right where you wanted him.
You pretended to think about it for a moment before shaking your head and telling him, "No, I shouldn't"
"Why not?"
"Because an old man like yourself can't keep up with me, right? At least that's what I heard you tell the Professor."
Logan couldn't believe you had heard their conversation earlier this week. The Professor was the only person who knew the truth of how Logan felt towards you. When Charles asked him what was stopping him from pursuing you, all Logan had to say was, "I'm too old for her; can't keep up with such a young thing like her".
Which was far from the truth.
"So obsessed with me that you're listenin' to my conversations now?" He growled, pulling the car over.
"Stop acting like you aren't obsessed with me too." You smile at him. "I know a few pairs of my underwear 'mysteriously' disappear from my hamper. I know that you can hear me through the walls late at night, panting your name."
With each sentence, you inch closer to him. Logan could only compare you to the snake in Eve's garden; encouraging him to give into his temptations.
"I also know that you want me." Your eyes were dark with desire, making his pants tighter. "So, if you can't get it up or claim that you don't want me then that's fine with-"
Logan fumed with irritation and lust. Not thinking twice before slamming your lips into yours. He tasted exactly like you imagine; tobacco and mint. You were addicted; no one could ever compare to him.
In a rush, his rough hands pulled you into his inviting lap before one cupped your jaw and his other made its way up your skirt, toying with your lacy underwear. He wasn't going to give it to you that easily.
"L-Logan, please," You moan against his mouth, trying to create some friction on his lap. "Need it."
God, he's waited a long time to hear that; to see you so desperate in his arms. When he pulled back to look at you, Logan couldn't be more pleased with the image in front of him. Your eyes shut tightly, face scrunched, trying to concentrate, and lips pouty with annoyance. Logan removes his hand under your skirt; causing the prettiest whine to escape you. He thought you might be what finally kills him.
"We aren't done, sweetheart." He groaned in your ear. "Get in the backseat because you are gonna tell me every single one of your fuckin' fantasies."
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ihatethecrowdsyouknowthat · 2 months ago
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juno - spencer reid x afab!reader
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reader finds out how good spencer is with kids and can't keep the thoughts from pouring in
requested!
genre: fluff, smut wc: 2179 warnings: established relationship, daydreamer!reader, talk of pregnancy, p in v, unprotected sex(duh), brief breeding kink, i love yous, reader has hair?
my first time ever writing smut!!! keep your pitchforks to yourself please!!!
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You've known for a long while of your boyfriend's affinity for the young souls out there. Perhaps he was one of them. Perhaps he was just an overgrown one of them. It was something spoken about early on, his love for kids. He mentioned that he's the godfather of his coworker's little boy and how he's always wanted one of his own. A boy or girl, it doesn't matter. As long as he got to raise one with the fatherly love he never quite received.
That was all fine and well to know until you actually got to see Spencer with a child. Babysitting Henry was supposed to be a way of letting JJ and Will have some fun for once. It turned out to be much more confusing. He was sweet, gentle, and spoke in a soft tone that drove you oddly insane. When he started doing card tricks, you thought your heart would explode.
That's why right now you're sitting in the car completely silent. You've never been one to shut up so it's no surprise that he knows something is off. It's not your fault that you're suddenly lost in an alternate reality in which you're in a large house with a small baby. Maybe two. It's not like you wanted to get started right away. Nonetheless, something about the idea was appealing.
"Are you okay?" Spencer asks softly, eyes narrowed.
Technically, yes, you're fine. Too many thoughts but fine.
"Yeah, of course," you hum. "You were really good with Henry today."
A bright smile breaks out on his lips as he lets out a breath that's just barely a laugh. "You think?" his brows furrow, glancing over at you almost nervously.
You nod, shoulders loosening. "I do." While fiddling with your necklace, you add, possibly with too much meaning, "you'll be a really good dad."
His face turns red and he focuses on the road. Before long, the thoughts swarming in that head of his refuse to stay inside and he speaks gently, "is that what you're thinking about?"
A topic you've talked about—your tendency to daydream. It's not a thing you've kept hidden. In fact, it's your favourite pastime. However, it's a little awkward to tell your boyfriend that you're imagining him getting you pregnant.
But you were never a good liar.
"Yeah," you admit, fingers still at the pendant on your chest, eyes watching the passing scenery and streetlights.
"And?"
To that, you're not sure there's any response that doesn't seem insane.
"And what?" you ask cautiously.
After a quick glance in your direction as if he's testing the waters, he clarifies, "are you opposed?"
"To what?"
"Kids."
Oh. Well, no, not in the least. The idea of raising a family with Spencer is thrilling and you believe it's something you do want. You've always liked kids and kids have always liked you but the thought of seriously settling down has never truly crossed your mind. Until now, you suppose.
You shake your head, eyes lingering on his jawline. "No. You know that," you mutter softly.
"I do... but we've never talked about it. Just because you like children doesn't mean you necessarily want them," Spencer says like it's the most simple thing.
"True." The singular word is almost impossible to hear. You add gently, "but, I do."
He nods, turning his head to look at you in a way slightly different than all the other times. You can't quite place it, though. What you do know is that it definitely caused some major butterflies in your stomach. Then again, that happens a lot. But when his right hand moves from the steering wheel to your thigh, you're sure that look meant something. Something good, you think.
You're even more sure when, the moment you get to his apartment, he kisses you deep, lips parting to make way for his tongue. It's not rough at all. Loving, mostly. Like he's ensuring that you know you're cared for. You smile wide, unable to stop the giggle from leaving. Pulling back with an equally lovesick smile, he laughs, "what?"
Hardly a second later, you place another peck to his still grinning lips before answering with a bright, "what's going on?"
His eyebrows raise. "Nothing... I don't know what you mean," he says in easily a whole octave higher than usual. Your eyes narrow as you search his eyes.
You beg dramatically, "tell me."
He sighs then runs his fingers through his hair, unsure if he wants to bring it up. "About what you said... in the car... you meant it?"
"What I said...? About kids?"
Spencer nods. "Yes."
"I meant it, yes." It's spoken hesitantly. You're not positive where this conversation is heading.
"I just... like the thought," he shrugs, leaving you to walk towards the bedroom.
Really confused and a little intrigued, you follow, watching him start to unbutton his cardigan. "The thought?" you hum, crossing your arms in an attempt at nonchalance.
"Of you... pregnant," he mumbles like he doesn't want you to hear, letting the piece of clothing fall to the ground before picking it up to put it in his laundry bin.
He didn't need to say it like that. He could've said the thought of starting a family, of having a child. You're not a profiler but the way he decided to word the sentence makes you think something bigger has been revealed. Freudian slip or intentional, he's not telling you everything that's on his mind.
"Pregnant. Really?" You picture it and, perhaps it's because you'll be the one carrying it, but all you seem to be able to picture is chubby ankles, morning sickness, and mood swings.
Simply, Spencer nods, eyes finally meeting yours. You smile up at him sweetly as his hands come to cup your face. "There's just—I don't know... something appealing about it. About being the one to..."
Now, you get it.
"Oh. Like—oh! So, that's what...?" you babble purely out of shock.
Who knew Spencer Reid had the fantasy of impregnating you floating around in his brain?
His hands drop to your shoulders, squeezing gently. "Does that make you uncomfortable? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—just forget—"
To his surprise, you cut off the soon-to-be-ramble with your lips on his. It takes a second for him to understand what's happening but he does, mouth moving against yours eagerly, his hands sliding up to your face. While smiling, you drag your hand down his neck and to his tie, tugging it loose. Once he clues in to where you want this to go, his fingers slip under your shirt, gripping your waist firmly. The tie comes off, dropping to the floor and, soon enough, your shirt's gone, too.
He takes a few steps to the bed before lowering you onto it carefully. As if handling glass, he glides his hand down your stomach, to the button of your jeans.
"Can these come off?" he pants against your lips.
Nodding desperately, you whisper, "yeah."
With a nod back, Spencer unbuttons the jeans and pulls them down your legs. His palms slide up your thighs as he presses another kiss to your mouth. "Go lay down?" he suggests softly.
You comply immediately, moving up on the bed and laying your head on the pillows to watch him undo his shirt one button at a time. Next, his belt comes off. And then his pants. When he's left in only boxers, he positions himself above you before kissing down your neck. Your back arches and he uses the opportunity to move his fingers to the clasp of your bra.
You aren't at all unfamiliar with his skill but, every time, it continues to catch you off guard how, in a few minutes, you're at his mercy, willing to do anything he asks of you. Then again, when are you not?
He tosses the bra aside to join the rest of the discarded clothes on his bedroom floor. His attention is, of course, then drawn to your chest, one of his hands grabbing at you while the other suddenly starts small circles over your underwear.
"Spencer, I don't need that," you mutter breathily. You don't really want his hand at the moment.
His head lifts from your neck, placing a sweet kiss to your cheek. Spencer asks quietly, "are you sure?"
There isn't much you're capable of doing at the moment so you nod. He takes the answer and hooks both index fingers into the waistband of your panties. His eyes fall directly to the newly revealed area the same way they always do, adoration spilling out of him at the sight of the collecting wetness. A small smile on your face, your hands drift down to take off his boxers.
With the last barriers removed, your lips connect again and his hand moves to line himself up with you. The kiss breaks when he looks down to watch himself push into you, a whimper leaving you and a shaky breath leaving him. He quickly bottoms out and you whine.
Softly, he murmurs, "you okay?"
"Yeah, just," you laugh, "...full."
Spencer breathily chuckles with you, nodding like he's trying to get himself together. "Right."
After a deep breath, his hips start slowly, letting both of you adjust to the feeling of each other again. No matter how many times you do this, you still always need a minute to get used to him. Your breaths come out in gentle pants and occasional whimpers until he speeds up and you can't contain yourself. Desperate moans of pleasure spill from your lips as he moves.
"Doing so good—feels so good," he mumbles, eyes now screwed shut.
"Really, really good," you nod eagerly, voice soft. Your hands paw at his back in search of anything to hold on to.
The sensation is almost too much you think you might burst. Although, when he starts to whimper, that's when you really lose it. The way he sounds and the way his face scrunches up, it's intoxicating. You need more of it.
You cry with want, "harder... please."
Like always, he attempts to give you everything you need and desire. He nods, hips quickening and lewd sounds coming from your bodies. A small gasp leaves you. Your legs wrap around his waist, allowing him to hit your deepest point. It's a feeling you'll never quite get used to. The moment he reaches that spot, it's never long after that it's over.
Letting out a gasp, you clench around him, causing his movements to falter and become more frantic. A breath quickly leaves him before he's asking, "inside, right?"
You whine, "mhm," dangerously close to slipping off that ledge. Your mind brings you to images of you pregnant, his baby growing inside you. This time not so scary. You imagine this moment in a very different time, when his release will signal a new start and not just an end.
His mouth finds your shoulder, pressing careful kisses to the skin. The hand not holding his body weight finds the sensitive point between your legs, eliciting a loud moan from you. Desperately, you cling to him, arms wrapping around him for any more contact. That familiar feeling builds deep in your gut and you whine, finding your eyes rolling back.
It happens quickly, the finish line getting closer and closer until it's gone and you're in another universe of pleasure. Your hips try to escape but Spencer doesn't let that happen. His hand moves from your center to your hip, holding you down with little force. The fog clears just in time to watch him reach that very same ecstasy. Lips parted against your shoulder, he whimpers, movements becoming even sloppier until they slow.
The odd warmth spills from you. His breaths come heavy as he relaxes against you and pats your head—an interesting choice of affection after sex but somehow suitable. When he pulls out, you sigh shakily, watching him go to the bathroom. Before long, he's back with a damp cloth. He opens your legs again, running the fabric over you with a tenderness you couldn't possibly describe.
He joins you after discarding the cloth. An elbow holds him up so he can look at you, looking so perfect, lips swelled and hair splayed delicately over the plush pillows. He's staring. Mind wandering, he pictures a world in which you're rounder and perhaps with a ring on your finger. You're deep into pregnancy, probably grumpy with him but he doesn't care because you're his. Only his, forever.
Again, not today, not now, but someday. When the funds are appropriate and you know it's the right choice. Not that he ever doubted.
Just above a whisper, he says, "so... that doesn't mean I want—"
"I know. I'm glad," you grin, still quite dazed but completely content.
A kiss is pressed to your forehead and he sighs. "I love you."
"I love you," you mutter back.
As previously stated, Spencer Reid is a man that's good with kids. You presume he's even better with you, though.
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retrosabers · 2 months ago
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𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐞, 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮.
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FICMAS DAY 3: GIFT-GIVING
bucky barnes x fem!reader
summary: as bucky’s secret santa, you’re determined to give him the best christmas present he’s ever received.
contains: grumpy buck fluff, some angst, idiots who are crushing hard, swearing
word count: 2.4k
a/n: this is a long one i’m apologizing in advance
i am SO SORRY for crickets in the ficmas department the past week, i hit a big brick wall with this and i’ve been so all over the place with my own holiday planning and such that i ended up having to cut the masterlist in half because i knew i couldn’t get it all done. i’m very sorry to anyone who was looking forward to what got scrapped, but i couldn’t bring myself to rush through writing and put out something i don’t believe it my best work.
also, do people even want avengers fix it fics anymore?? i debated between the “everything is fine the team lives at the compound together” vibe and setting this post tfatws, but ultimately decided the former was easier to write. and i think it worked in my favor because this turned out really cute :)
!! divider by @strangergraphics !!
FICMAS MASTERLIST
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your heart feels like it’s going to burst out of your chest.
who’s idea was this again? wanda? tony? steve? it didn’t matter anymore. all that mattered right now was that you didn’t pass out in the elevator. a feat that was becoming more and more difficult the closer you got to your destination.
a secret santa is supposed to bring you joy, not near paralyzing anxiety.
at first, you were 100% on board with participating in a gift exchange. as much as you wanted to shower all of your teammates with presents galore, not everyone shared the same sentiment, and thus the idea of a secret santa was proposed.
excitement courses through your veins as you reach your hand into the cheap santa hat tony grabbed from god knows where in storage, with little pieces of paper containing the names of your fellow avengers. you decided to wait until you were back in the privacy of your room to open it up, afraid of any wandering eyes taking a peak. the last thing you wanted was the element of surprise to be stripped away. it was half the fun after all.
as sam pulls the last name, you quietly excuse yourself and all but rush upstairs, too eager to get in the holiday spirit and brainstorm. as soon as the door shuts behind you, you hurriedly reveal the contents of the paper.
if it’s natasha, i can get her a pair of ballet slippers. she’s been mentioning how she wants to start dancing again.
what about bruce? maybe a journal for all his ideas? he always seems to be losing sticky notes in the lab.
a million different ideas swirl around in your head, reminding you just how much joy this time of year brings. to you, there was nothing better than seeing the gleeful looks on people’s faces when they opened their gifts. the corners of your mouth turn up at the memory of your first christmas with the team. how shy and reluctant you were, afraid of going overboard. now, a few years later, you’re completely unabashed in showing just how much you care about them.
your bright smile morphs into a deep frown as you unfold the paper.
bucky barnes.
quite possibly the most difficult person you could’ve chosen.
to be clear, there’s nothing wrong with bucky. he may be a bit grumpy and standoffish, but it’s with good reason and you know it. that also doesn’t change the fact that he’s going to be impossible to try and shop for.
what do you get for the man who seemingly despises anything the modern world has to offer? the same man who you’re 99% sure hates your guts. come to think of it, how did you even pull him? he most definitely wasn’t downstairs 20 minutes ago when everyone scribbled down their names and tossed them in tony’s direction.
it was irrelevant now. you were stuck being his secret santa, and you’d be damned if you didn’t give james buchanan barnes the best christmas gift he’s ever gotten in his century-long lifetime.
the two weeks it took to come up with an idea sure felt like a century. if it wasn’t for the concerning amount of snooping you did, you’d probably be showing up empty handed. thankfully, at almost 1 in the morning on a random tuesday, a lightbulb went off in your brain. you scrambled bright and early the next day to go shopping, and by some lucky form of divine intervention, you acquired the perfect gift.
flash forward to now, and you’re carrying an insanely large box up to bucky’s room. in a blatant stray from what the rest of the team was doing, you decided to give him his present one on one, secluded from everyone else. partly because you were afraid of public embarrassment if he hated it, and partly because you knew bucky wasn’t very fond of being put on display.
you hope he’ll at least be grateful for that.
when the elevator finally chimes, signaling you’ve arrived at the dormitory floor, the box nearly slips from your grasp. not just from how heavy it was, but from the nervous sweat coating your palms.
the hallway is quiet enough to hear a pin drop, save for the faint sound of christmas music playing over the speakers. with careful, calculated steps, you make your way down the length of the corridor, dragging your feet the closer you get to bucky’s room. there’s a small part of you that hopes he’s downstairs in the gym, the kitchen, the backyard, anywhere but here. dropping and dashing wasn’t what you had in mind, but the anxious thumping of your heart was becoming unbearable. you know it will only amplify tenfold if you’re forced to stare into those steel blue eyes of his. the thought alone sends a chill down your spine.
you freeze in place when you hear the sound of a door knob clicking open.
please be wanda’s room, please be wanda’s room.
in front of you, the very last door on the left creaks open, revealing the tall and brooding super soldier whose company you were aiming to avoid.
it’s easy to forget how handsome bucky barnes is when he normally does nothing but grimace in your direction.
you still weren’t used to his new haircut, but it was clear he felt significantly more confident with it. is that a hint of aftershave, or cologne? whatever it was, the scent fit him perfectly; cedarwood with a hint of spice. the green henley he wears fits snugly against his broad frame, emphasizing all the muscles you’ve been caught staring at on more than one occasion. for once, he’s not wearing a scowl, though that changes when he catches sight of you.
surely you must look strange, standing dumbfounded in the middle of the hall with a box covered in santa-printed wrapping paper and a big bow that you can barely hold. right now the floor opening up and swallowing you whole was at the top of your wish list. and st. nick better make it quick.
bucky’s expression shifts from one of disdain to curiosity as he quirks a brow wordlessly. your own knit together in frustration, knowing you now had no choice but to do this exchange face to face.
“need any help?” he questions monotonously. as much as you want to be prideful and reject it, your arms feel like they’re going to fall off any second. he seems to catch your drift despite a verbal response, because in the blink of an eye he’s striding towards you, sweeping the gift from your arms and into his own with ease. you try not to gape at the way his biceps strain against fabric.
you stutter out a “thanks,” as you straighten out your sweater. bucky grunts in return and eyes the package in his hands cautiously. you’re half expecting him to shake it like a child when you catch the tiniest twitch of his upper lip.
it’s the closest thing to a smile he’s ever shown in your presence. something that gives you the courage to actually form a sentence instead of continuing to gawk at him.
here goes nothing.
“this is for you, actually,” you manage to shakily breathe out. bucky halts his observations, a glimmer of surprise briefly dancing across his face.
a beat of silence passes between you. “don’t remember asking for anything," he finally says. it’s still laced with his typical dry sarcasm, but there’s a legitimate amusement in his tone that can’t be missed.
you narrow your eyes at him playfully, feeling a little bit more at ease now that he didn’t completely rebuff you.
“i’m your secret santa, smartass,” you jab with your hands on your hips.
for the first time ever, bucky smirks at you.
“don’t recall asking for that either.”
you throw your hands up in defense, offering him a surprisingly nonchalant shrug. “don’t blame me, i’m pretty sure steve was the one who put your name in.”
“punk,” the man grumbles. he shakes his head, attention turning back to the present in hand once more.
despite his apparent annoyance, you can’t seem to stop yourself from continuing on.
“i know you’re supposed to do this kind of thing with everyone around,” you start off shaky, afraid of upsetting him any more than you may already have. his gaze immediately falls to you upon hearing your voice.
“i also know you’re not a big fan of being the center of attention,” you continue, shoving your hands into the pockets of your jeans. “figured you’d like this better if it was in private.”
bucky’s features soften. his jaw unclenched, his eyes not so narrow and judgmental. he looks relieved, flattered; a myriad of things you can’t name or place.
“i appreciate that,” he admits, suddenly shy and impish. for a second, he completely forgets about the gift you brought. the simple fact that you were kind enough to consider his feelings, despite how cold he could be to you, makes his heart skip a beat.
you simply nod your head in reply, teetering back and forth on your feet awkwardly trying to decipher your next move.
“you don’t have to open that right now you know.”
he sets the box down on the floor next to his door. “kinda defeats the purpose don’t you think?”
you shrug. “whatever you’re comfortable with. doesn’t matter what you’re “supposed to do.””
why did you care so much about his comfort level? he hardly showed any concern for yours. the notion consumes his thoughts, prohibiting him from offering anything except a nod of acknowledgement.
that awkward silence comes once again, signaling maybe you’ve overstayed your welcome, or that the moment of peace is over. you check your watch in hopes that father time was ending this exchange for you.
just your luck, he’s right on schedule.
“i uh, better get downstairs,” you announce, pointing your thumb in the direction of the elevator. “don’t wanna miss thor forcing everyone to do christmas karaoke.”
a noise akin to laughter snorts out of bucky’s nose, evoking a delightful warmth in your chest. it was different than all the other times you’ve been flustered in the presence of the super soldier. this was less about intimidation and more about…camaraderie. now wondering if maybe he doesn’t hate you as much as you thought.
it’s exactly what you need to reignite your holiday cheer and shed any remaining worries.
before you can second guess, you turn on your heels, closing the gap between your bodies. wrapping a hand around his arm, his metal arm, and offering a gentle caress, the sincerity in your words is clear as day.
“merry christmas buck.”
your touch burns straight through vibranium all the way to his chest. across his entire body, igniting every cell ablaze. a fire consuming him in ways unimaginable.
and yet. he enjoyed the burn.
as you pull away, much to his dismay, the tips of his fingers brush against the inside of your wrist. goosebumps errupt on your skin, from the cool metal, or that fact that bucky was so pretty this close, only time would tell.
“you too,” he murmurs with a faint grin. the soft crinkles by his eyes are likely going to be the subject of your daydreams for the next week.
you flash him a smile over your shoulder before turning down the hall and averting his gaze, not wanting him to see just how much you were blushing.
while unbeknownst to you, bucky was now a very bright shade of red.
he waits until he can hear the elevator doors close before slipping back into his room and very carefully unwrapping the box. there’s a nervousness in his stomach that’s unfamiliar, but not unpleasant. as the bare brown packaging becomes exposed, he begins ripping back the numerous layers of packing tape. you really took your time on this, he thinks to himself.
that funny feeling only amplifies when he sees the contents of the box.
a record player, a very expensive looking one at that, sits inside with another three wrapped items that he concludes are vinyls, judging from their flatness. on top of it all, there was a small note shrouded in luxe stationary. bucky’s heart stutters when he sees his name scribbled delicately in your handwriting.
his fingers falter briefly before he digs into the envelope.
i know this isn’t like the ones from the 40s, but it’s the closest thing i could find. also got a few of your favorite records, and one i think you’ll like too. don’t forget i have quite a collection of my own in case you ever want to try something new.
merry christmas ♡
bucky unceremoniously plops down on the edge of his bed. the normally stiff feeling mattress now mirrored a sea of clouds and feathers. he’d gladly sink into the abyss of softness, if it meant pumping the brakes on his thundering heartbeat.
from the moment he met you, bucky knew he was in trouble.
you had an aura about you that was magnetic, always drawing people in and bathing them in your light. your unconditional kindness and consideration, hell, even your mere presence in a room seemed to liven it up entirely. it was a hypnotizing, almost dangerous thing for the man, and if there was one thing he knew how to do, it was to push people away. for their sake, and his. bucky was certain that once he started keeping his distance, that you’d eventually give up in trying to crack his tough outer shell, or that the silly feelings he had would disappear.
but right now, as he’s staring at your handwriting and rubbing his thumb repeatedly over that little heart, he knows it was all in vain.
later that night, he stares up at the ceiling, listening to the familiar croon of it’s been a long, long time wafting from his present. he tries to focus on the beauty of the song, or the lights he can see from his window twinkling out on the lawn, but it’s nearly impossible. you’re the subject of all his thoughts. have been since the moment he saw you standing out in the hall. from the scent of your perfume to the little intricacies of your penmanship. the thing that’s plaguing him the most, however, is your hand on his arm.
bucky’s real arm had been gone for over half a century, having stopped experiencing phantom limb syndrome ages ago. yet somehow he felt it there, clear as day. the same tactile sensations on his flesh, right arm, in the metal prosthetic of his left. an electric shock that he’s never recognized before, and that he wouldn’t be opposed to feeling again.
tomorrow, he plans to thank steve for mischievously adding his name into the lottery.
and to ask you about your record collection.
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thanks for reading! <3
tag list: @alastor-simp @j4desblurbs @pandapetals
!! if you would like to be tagged in the rest of the ficmas blurbs, please send me an inbox message or leave a comment !!
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azrielbrainrot · 4 months ago
Text
The First Light of Dawn
Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader
Kinktober 2024: Somnophilia
Description: The bond threatens to drive both you and Azriel insane.
Warnings: Smut, somnophilia, fingering, oral sex, dub con (except it's not because they totally discussed this before)
Word Count: ~1,6k
Rating: 18+ MDNI
Notes: I feel obligated to say that you should only try something like this with someone who you trust and with prior consent and that you can take it back anytime. Hope you enjoy!
Kinktober 2024 Masterlist
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There wasn't much Azriel loved more than flying over Velaris after a long mission, feeling the breeze hit his face and his sore muscles as he watched the city shining below, always reminding himself why he works so hard to protect it. Today's mission had been a mostly routine affair, one he didn't even have to leave his shadows for, but he still felt particularly exhausted after it.
His brothers had warned him multiple times that the bond could be hard to deal with at times, especially when it was as fresh as yours, but he always thought they were exaggerating, - your bond had brought him nothing but happiness after all. The Mother proved him wrong today though. Azriel was gone for barely a full day and while he was supposed to be focusing on his target all he could think about was how much he missed you. He could almost hear the bond in his chest screaming at him to go and find you, to hold you in his arms and never let go.
Even now it was trying to guide his body in the direction of your house on the other side of the river, making him have to almost fight with himself to keep flying to the townhouse. The sun wasn't even close to rising and you had worked all day as well, he wouldn't disturb your sleep just because the bond was so annoyingly irrational. Azriel contemplates waking Rhys or Cassian up so they could spar with him and help him release some of the tension clinging to his body, but that would be proving them right, something he was unwilling to do no matter the cost.
At last, he lands on his balcony with a soft thud, a sigh escaping him at the familiar sight, sending his shadows scattering around the room so they could relax as well. The bond had been so loud all day, that he thought he was imagining smelling your scent in the air, already setting his weapons down on their respective spots in his dresser when his body locked up as he heard soft breathing behind him.
Turning around slowly, Azriel couldn't even believe his eyes when he saw you sleeping soundly under the covers. His shadows climbed up his body immediately, giddily letting him know that not only was he not dreaming, but his pretty little mate had also been missing him all day, crawling up into his bed so she'd be surrounded by his scent.
His tired body awakens at the sight, walking closer to the bed slowly so he didn't wake you up, unable to keep away. A smile breaks out on his lips when he reaches you, pushing some of the hair out of your face so he could place a soft kiss on your forehead, scarred thumb caressing your cheek softly. Gods, you were so perfect.
Just when he thought the bond would finally calm down, it starts spreading a different kind of heat over his body, your scent assaulting all of his senses the longer he breathes it in. His hand trails down to your neck, pushing the covers down a bit as he goes, a whimper almost escaping him when he finds you were wearing one of his shirts, and nothing else from the looks of it.
His body moves before he even realizes what he was doing, pushing the covers off your body completely, exposing you to his hungry gsze, hazel eyes tracing every bit of exposed skin, taking note of how his shirt although too big on you, had ridden up enough to let him know you were truly only wearing it and nothing else.
With the bond purring inside him and his shadows whispering just how much you've missed him, Azriel turns your body over carefully, laying you on your back as he sits on the bed beside you, hands caressing your legs softly. You sigh in your sleep when his hands spread your thighs apart, but show no sign of waking up. Your scent, deepened with arousal hits his nose in full force, a groan echoing around the room. It seems you really did miss him.
Azriel wastes no time in lifting the shirt up to your neck, making a sound in the back of his throat as your entrancing body is revealed to his eyes, biting down on his lip as your nipples started hardening under his gaze. He leans down to drop a kiss between your breasts, closing his eyes and breathing you in, feeling your heart beating under his lips for a moment. Gods, what was he doing? His body shows him the answer right away as he starts trailing wet kisses down your torso, biting and then soothing the skin with his tongue as he goes, a primal hunger rising within him.
He sits up suddenly when he reaches your navel, letting out a growl as he sheds any remaining piece of restraint that threatened to stop him. Your chest was rising and falling faster now, mouth agape as puffs of air escaped past your delicious lips. He knew he'd find you soaked even before his fingers met your cunt, easily sliding one and then two inside you carefully.
Azriel watches his fingers almost like he was in a trance, almost purring at the noises they made as he moved them in and out of you, your wetness dripping down his palm. Your body knew his touch well, whether you were awake or sleeping, sucking in his fingers greedily, almost begging him to keep going and take what was his.
A wicked idea comes to his mind, taking his fingers out and adjusting your body carefully so he could lay down between your legs, throwing your legs over his shoulders and lining his face up with your dripping cunt. He wanted to see how long it'd take you to wake up, if he could make you cum before you did.
Hands holding onto your waist, Azriel licks a broad stripe up your cunt before diving right in, moaning against you as your taste overwrites all of his senses. He almost forgets himself and the situation, getting lost in your taste, your scent and the feeling of your soft skin under his hands. Azriel grabbed at your thighs, massaging the flesh with his hands, moving back and forth up to your chest, playing with your nipples as best as he could given the angle. His hips start grinding down onto the mattress, his cock throbbing under his leathers as he feasts on you. He couldn't get enough of you, he probably would never get enough.
The Spymaster is so focused on your cunt, that he fails to notice your breaths coming out faster, your body trembling under his, and your eyes blinking awake, confused by the sudden rush of pleasure, moans of your own echoing around the room. It's only when your fingers tangle in his hair and you call out his name in question that he realizes you have woken up, moaning against you, the vibrations sending a shudder running through your overheated body.
It doesn't take long for you to fall apart on his tongue, cumming around him beautifully as soon as he starts pumping one of his fingers back into your cunt while his mouth abused your clit. Azriel laps up your release, only pulling away when your body is shaking too much and your hands start pushing at his head, struggling to breathe through the unexpected pleasure he was giving you.
Kissing his way up your body, lingering for a moment over your chest, sucking a nipple into his mouth, and then over your neck, marking it up with his teeth, he softens when he gets to your jaw, sweetly kissing your face before his lips fall over yours at last, your hands moving to hold the back of his neck to keep him in place, tasting yourself on his mouth.
“You're a heavy sleeper,” he whispers against your lips when you pull away, unable to resist licking over your bottom lip once.
“I think you're just too good at being sneaky, Spymaster,” your murmur, voice still heavy with sleep and still breathy from the mind numbing orgasm, legs still trembling softly at his sides.
Azriel hums, taking your lips between his own again, hands still caressing your skin, coaxing the sweetest gasp from you, one he gladly swallowed, his body fitting over yours perfectly.
“I missed you,” he murmurs, leaning his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as the bond finally gives him a moment of rest. “Couldn't stop thinking about you all day.”
“Me too.”
His shadows had already told him as much but it still warmed his heart to hear the confession coming directly from your lips, a content smile widening on his lips.
“Were you waiting for me?”
“Yes,” you admit, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I couldn't sleep without you.” Leaning up to peck his lips as he purrs at your words. He's convinced he could live forever in your arms.
Azriel starts feeling sneaky fingers tugging at the straps holding his leathers together, leaning away so he can watch your face adoringly as you unbuckle them expertly without ever looking away from him and still blinking away the sleepiness in your eyes.
“What are you doing, my love?”
“It's only fair I get to play with you too, don't you think?”
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shockercoco · 6 months ago
Text
Chasing Feelings
Tyler Owens x reader
warnings - mutual pining, jealous!reader, some swear words, fluff
word count - 2838
a/n - this was literally supposed to come out within a week of the release of twisters, but I’ve been gone for a month lol. I took so many breaks while writing this, so I'm not completely sure everything goes together, but it should. thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy :)
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You’ve had a crush on Tyler ever since the day you met him, and to you, he was way out of your league. You also weren’t the only one who felt this way; the amount of girls who showed up at empty fields just to meet Tyler was insane, but could you really blame them?
Tyler has so much charisma to the point where it seems like he’s attracted to everyone he meets. 
When he stares directly into everyone’s eyes, giving them his undivided attention, and flashes that charming smile of his, it’s kind of hard to tell who he actually is or isn’t flirting with. 
You, of course, were no different, so how the hell were you supposed to know that he liked you back?
Tyler was from Arkansas and he and his team decided to move to Oklahoma to storm chase several seasons ago. When he first showed up that day at the gas station with Boone filming his every move, you thought that he was just another adrenaline junky wanting to see a tornado  up close for views. At the time you were a part of another group of chasers from Oklahoma, and since you had already made up your mind about him, you decided it was best to ignore him.
But, he made it hard.
You were surprised to see him walk over to your group and start chatting it up with a couple of your teammates. Turns out, they knew him from his youtube channel and were fans. Having him so close to you made it easier to check him out, which Tyler had noticed, but never called you out for it.
He came up to introduce himself to you, giving you a smile and taking off his sunglasses as he walked towards you. 
“You’re a long way from home,” you had told him – you had overheard him talking about his hometown in Arkansas.
“This is my home now,” he had said.
He had pointed out that he was familiar with some of your work and began joking around with you so casually like he had known you his whole life. Unfortunately, you became immediately hooked.
You spent that night binging all of his videos and past live streams because you were oh so wrong about him.
That day led you to where you are now, a part of Tyler’s crew and regularly going out on chases for the fun of it.
“How are you doin’ today, Bambi?” you hear Tyler walk up and come stand next to you as you adjust the lens on your camera. You, and all the other crews, were currently at a gas station preparing for the coming storm.
When he had first given you that nickname, you had told him it was basic, which resulted in him smirking and saying, “Ain’t nothing basic about you.”
You still think about that moment to this day.
“Just fine, Tyler, is there something I can help you with?” you answer, not taking your eyes off your camera.
“What, I can’t talk to my favorite person?” he asks. 
You can hear the smile in his voice, and when you finally turn around to look at him, you aren’t surprised to see it spread across his face. “I thought Boone was your favorite person?” you tilt your head at him.
“I can have more than one favorite,” he says, nudging you with his soldier.
You raise your eyebrows and glance over at Boone, who was already looking in your direction with a knowing smile, and say, “I wonder how Boone would feel about that.”
Boone was Tyler’s best friend and had known you had a crush on Tyler the day you joined the team, and since then has repeatedly told you to confess to Tyler. Every time you tell him no, he just tells you yes because according to him Tyler feels the same way about you. It didn’t take long for Dani and Lily to catch on either, but unlike Boone, they don’t pressure you.
“No need to start any trouble,” Tyler jokes, and you laugh at that. He opens his mouth to say something else, but stops when he hears the sound of more vehicles pull up. 
The two of you turn around in time for you to see the crew exit their vehicles, including Javi and what you know to be Kate. You’ve never met Kate given the fact that she rarely decides to come back home to Oklahoma, but from what you’ve heard she’s really good with tornadoes.
You watch as the pair head towards you – Javi coming up to hug you while Kate goes to hug Tyler. Javi shoots you a look as he glances over at the two, and you quickly give his shoulder a shove, causing him to let out a laugh.
Javi is also amongst those who know you like Tyler. This crush is honestly starting to become a little pathetic.
Kate pulls away from Tyler and looks over at you with a kind smile, holding her hand out for you to shake. “Hi, I’m Kate. I’ve heard a lot about you from Javi, so it’s nice to finally meet you.”
According to Boone, Tyler couldn’t keep his eyes off of Kate the last time she was here. At the time your migraines had started to come back so you had decided to sit the chase out, and good thing you did because there was no way you could handle watching that scene unfold.
You offer Kate a smile back as you shake her hand. “Same here, it’s nice to meet you.”
“What brings you city folks out here?” Tyler jokes.
Kate rolls her eyes at the nickname. “I’m doing the same thing the two of you are doing – storm chasing,” she replies as she looks out at the horizon at the clouds forming, her hair moving with the breeze.
“I thought you left Storm Par,” you say to Javi as you motion your head towards the white trucks
“We did, but that doesn’t mean we can’t use their equipment. They have some really high tech stuff – we might as well put it to good use,” Javi explains. He then looks over at Kate and gives her a nudge. “Not like we need it since Kate’s here.”
Kate gives him a small smile at the compliment.
“Well, city girl, which direction are we going in today?” Tyler asks as Kate bends down to take a dandelion into her hand. Tyler takes his sunglasses off in order to get a better look at the sky. 
It’s a question Tyler usually asks you when it’s just the two of you in his truck with the rest of the crew following behind in their vehicles. You have no right to be jealous, but that doesn’t stop the feeling of jealousy from growing in your chest. Choosing to ignore it, you take a deep breath and watch Kate, waiting for her answer.
You watch as a gust of wind blows the specks of dandelion out of her hand, causing Kate to look up into the sky at a dark funnel beginning to take form.
“That one,” Kate points.
“Are you sure?” Tyler questions in a teasing manner, one of his eyebrows raising.
“I’ll tell you later,” Kate replies, and then follows it with a question, “ do ya mind if I ride with you?”
“Not at all,” Tyller answers, but then turns to look at you,” as long as my trusty navigator doesn’t mind.”
What the hell are you supposed to say? No? 
You don’t even notice your tense jaw until you open your mouth to answer. “Of course not, you two go ahead,” you tell Tyler, looking between him and Kate as you offer up a smile.
“Well then it’s settled, let’s ride. Just make sure you don’t get me lost,” Tyler smirks as he turns to walk towards his truck. Kate rolls her eyes as she follows him, a small smile on her lips.
Javi turns to you once the pair are out of earshot. “You don’t mind?” he repeats your words, not believing you for a second.
“I don’t,” you give him a shrug as you begin walking towards his Storm Par truck. Javi follows right behind you, his hands stuffed into his pockets.
“Mhm. You look like you were about to pop a blood vessel,” Javi lets out a laugh.
You stop in your tracks and turn to face him. “Was it that obvious?” you ask, your eyes wide.
“Relax, I’m kidding,” his smile drops once he sees the look on your face. You release a breath and continue walking. Once the two of you are in the safety of his truck, Javi asks, “you really like him, huh?”
“Unfortunately,” you huff out. “I’m slowly trying to get over it, though.”
“Why?”
“Because it's a useless little schoolgirl crush, and it’s not like he’s actually going to like me back, so there’s no point in continuing to suffer.”
Javi just hums in response, starting the vehicle and placing his hands on the steering wheel. Then he glances over at you, “I say you should hold out, what’s the worst that can happen?”
Before you can answer, Tyler’s truck pulls up beside you guys on Javi’s side of the car. Tyler leans forward to look over at the two of you before moving his finger in a swirling motion and driving off.
“That’s your man, huh?” Javi gives you a questioning look, his tone light.
You let out a small laugh, “Just drive the damn truck, Javi.”
The chase was eventful as always. Kate’s instincts were right and led the group right into the tornado’s path, where Tyler stopped to anchor his truck. The rest of you hung back as you watched Tyler shoot fireworks into the eye of the storm. 
Even though you had some distance on them, you could still hear the hoots and hollers coming from their spot in the field. The group of tornado watchers that had decided to join the chase got out of their vehicles to join the celebration.
Javi looks over at you and shakes his head in fake disappointment, resulting in you rolling your eyes.
After the chase everyone decides to go out for drinks before heading to the motel. From your spot at the bar next to Javi, you can see Tyler in the back of the bar throwing darts with Kate.
“You know, you should blink every once in a while,” you hear a voice say in your ear. You jump and turn around to see Boone standing there with a grin and a beer in one of his hands.
“I don’t think she cares at this point, she has been ignoring me all night for that redneck,” Javi jokes.
You scoff, “No, I haven’t.”
“Oh really? What was I just talking about then?” Javi looks at you with his eyebrows raised. Boone joins him and turns his attention back to you.
Your mouth opens, but you quickly close it when you realize you don’t have an answer. You let out a sigh as you drop your head into your hands. “I’m sorry,” you say in defeat.
“Don’t worry about it,” Javi says, “I just can’t wait for the two of you to finally get together so this can end.”
“You and me both, brother,” Boone says, clinking his beer bottle against Javi’s.
As the night starts to come to an end, you say your goodbyes to the group before heading back to the motel. It was just across the street, and the majority of the people in the area were tornado chasers, so you had no problem walking back by yourself.
After making your way up the stairs and into your room, you decide on taking a quick shower before heading off to bed.
When you get out, you’re about to turn the lights and the tv off so you can go to sleep when you hear a knock on your door. Assuming it was Boone, Dani, or even Lily, you open the door without hesitation, only to reveal Tyler on the other side.
He stands in front of you, his hands in his pockets as he looks down at you with a gentle smile and his clothes still on from the day. “Hey, there. You left without sayin’ goodbye.”
“Well I told Boone, Javi, Dani, and Lily goodbye, so technically I did,” you tell him. A gust of wind from the night breeze blows through the doorway, causing you to cross your arms over your chest.
“Ouch, I see I’m not important anymore,” Tyler says.
You let out a small laugh. “I’m pretty sure you don’t need me to tell you you’re important.”
“You know I do,” he says.
You let out a small hum in response before asking, “So where’s Kate?”
“I’m actually not sure, last time I saw her, I think she was talking with Javi,” he answers, his eyebrows furrowing as he glances back at the parking lot. Then he shrugs and says, “I had to leave her since she was kicking my ass in darts so who cares.”
“Didn’t enjoy having your ego bruised, huh?” you joke, and Tyler rolls his eyes.
“Hey, I don’t have a problem with gettin’ beat by a woman,” he chuckles.
“Whatever you say,” you smile at him. “Was there something else you wanted? I was just about to go to bed.”
Tyler clears his throat. “Uh yeah, there is actually,” he tells you as he stands up straight. You raise your eyebrows as you wait for him to continue. “I was wonderin’, well hopin’, you would want to do somethin’. You know, just the two of us,” he says.
Is he - No, let’s not jump to conclusions.
“Don’t we always?” you question.
“Well, yeah, but I meant…you know,” Tyler begins to scratch the back of his neck, and glances down at the ground, “Like a date.”
You blink. And blink again. And again.
Then when Tyler notices your silence, he adds, “But I totally understand if you don’t want to.”
You blink again. “Like seriously?” you finally ask. Your eyebrows are furrowed, still not completely believing him.
“Yes,” he says.
“Okay,” you nod, a small smile starting to form on your lips.
Okay? That’s all you have to say?
“Yeah?” Tyler perks up, and you nod again.
“Yeah,” you confirm.
Tyler chuckles. “You know, I don’t know why I was nervous. I already knew you had a crush on me.”
You choke on your spit as you give him an incredulous look. “You what?”
“Yeah, and you know I figured you would catch on to me by now, but I wasn’t sure if you were and just ignoring me or what,” he smirks.
“And how exactly was I supposed to catch on?” you ask, adding air quotes at the end.
“I’ve been flirting with you this whole time,” he tells you like it’s obvious.
“Tyler, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you flirt with anyone,” you tell him.
“No, I don’t,” Tyler’s face twists up, and you give him a look. He thinks for a second before saying, “Well, yeah, I guess I do. Kind of.”
“What the hell do you mean ‘kind of’?”
“I feel like my serious flirting is different from my usual charming self,” he shoots you a wink.
“No. No it’s not Tyler. Your usual charming self made me think you like Kate,” you tell him, causing his eyebrows to raise in amusement.
Well…maybe you should’ve kept that last part to yourself.
“You thought I liked Kate?” he smiles, leaning in a little bit more.
You roll your eyes and decide not to answer. Tyler takes your silence as a greenlight to keep talking shit.
“Were you jealous?”
You scoff as your eyes widen, “how dare you!”
“You were!” he exclaims, your reaction giving you away.
Feeling your face begin to heat up and wanting to hide from the embarrassment you back up to be able to close the door in his face. “Goodnight Tyler,” you mumble, fully ready to be alone once again, but of course Tyler puts his hand up to stop you.
“Oh come on, Bambi, don’t shy up on me now,” he smirks, going back to leaning on the door with his palm still on the door.
“Says the one who got nervous to ask me out,” you point out, causing Tyler to laugh. “Goodnight,” you repeat, and once again you try to close the door, but you’re met with resistance.
Tyler’s laughter dies down. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop,” he tells you. “Can I come in?”
“I don’t know,” you reply, giving him a stern look.
“Come on, I promise I won’t tease you anymore.”
You sigh. “Fine.”
Tyler thanks you as you step aside to make room for him to enter the room, but as he walks past you, he says, “But Kate? Really?” 
Yeah, he isn’t going to let this go anytime soon.
like what you see? check out my masterlist :)
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thankskenpenders · 1 month ago
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Thoughts on two specific areas of the writing in Sonic X Shadow Generations
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The best new 3D Sonic game in over a decade (or even two, depending on who you ask) dropped late last year. And I didn't write anything about it! Sometimes life happens. Well, I've finally sat down to finish Shadow Generations, and by now everyone has already been singing its praises for three months. This is the rare instance where the entire Sonic fandom, and even mainstream reviewers, are in agreement on something. The level design is the best it's been in a long, long time and the cool factor is off the charts, embracing Sonic's peak cringe era in an incredibly confident way. It's great. If you're even reading this post, you probably don't need me to tell you that. So I won't!
No, what I'm really interested in here is the writing. Because this is me we're talking about. But I actually don't want to talk about the main narrative of Shadow Generations, which is really solid little story about Black Doom trying to mold Shadow into his perfect soldier. No, I'd like to zero in on two other aspects of the writing here: the revisions made to Sonic Generations, and Gerald Robotnik's unlockable journal.
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The updated Sonic Generations script
The new package mostly presents Sonic Generations how you remember it. There are some tweaks, but it's not a major overhaul. Graphically, I don't think the game has been touched much, if at all. I certainly can't notice any difference without a side-by-side comparison, despite playing it on a PS5. The most notable update is that the game's script has been rewritten by Ian Flynn.
Naturally, this caught my attention. Generations always had a nothingburger story, so with Ian rewriting Pontac and Graff's lame dialogue there was nowhere to go but up. (I don't like to pin the blame for those games' stories entirely on them, as a ton of it was dictated to them by Sonic Team, but, well, I don't think they're very good dialogue writers.) But it's less a complete rewrite and more like Ian was brought on as a script doctor for some minor touch ups here and there. Many lines of dialogue are completely identical to how they were originally written in 2011, and many others only have slight wording changes. Ian was clearly not allowed to request additional scenes or extend the ones that already existed. He has to match the original beat for beat so that they can reuse 99% of the cutscene animations. Don't expect it to be a whole new experience compared to the original.
Still, I think the new script is an improvement, albeit a minor one. Various things have been tweaked to maintain characterization consistency. Cream calls Sonic "Mr. Sonic" instead of just "Sonic." Instead of calling Sonic "buddy," Rouge uses the pet name "Blue," like she tends to do in things like the IDW comics. Espio doesn't have to remind you in the dialogue that he's a ninja, and he no longer has a line making it sound like he has some kind of soul reading power. I also like that Modern Sonic now actually has responses to what his friends say when he rescues them, rather than being silent like Classic Sonic. They won't blow you away, but they make Sonic feel a little more engaged with everything.
In general, the altered dialogue just seems tighter to me, and some of the more childish or trite wording of Pontac and Graff's script has been altered. Here, let's actually make a direct comparison, just because this stuff is interesting to me as a writer. Here's a couple lines from after the Egg Dragoon fight late in the game, in the original script:
Modern Eggman: Ooooh... I can't believe this! I was supposed to beat you this time. Modern Sonic: Aw, I'm sorry! I didn't get that memo. I beat you every time! [Turns to Classic Sonic] No, seriously, we beat this guy every time. It's like it's our job or something!
This is a simple exchange. Eggman is mad that he lost. Sonic is unflappably confident because he always beats Eggman, and he explains this to his younger self. But the wording here isn't particularly good. Eggman's simple and direct wording makes him come off like a little kid who's mad because his older brother beat him at Mario Kart, rather than a mad scientist who just had his plans foiled. It's making light of the situation.
And I've never liked Sonic saying "It's like it's our job or something!" That doesn't feel like a thing Sonic would say, it feels like a thing an outside observer would say about Sonic. This is a frequent problem with so-called "MCU dialogue," where quips meant to echo the commentary of a casual, somewhat disinterested audience are inserted into the story itself so that the writers can be like "See? We get it. We're genre-savvy, too!" It also just reminds me of bad Sonic Boom: Rise of Lyric lines like "Rings! It's like they're made for me!"
And then here's Ian's rewrite:
Modern Eggman: I recalibrated everything! This was supposed to be my time! Modern Sonic: Oh, please, keep dreamin', Egg-head. I beat you every time. [Turns to Classic Sonic] No, seriously, we beat him every time. Our score card's flawless.
Eggman's still mad about his defeat, but the line "I recalibrated everything!" makes it more specific. He put all this work into the engineering side of his latest scheme and got tunnel vision, thinking if he got his creations just right there'd be no way he could lose. "This was supposed to be my time!" also turns it into a time travel pun, which is a bonus. He's still pitching a fit over losing, but it feels more like Eggman pitching a fit, rather than sounding childish.
And then instead of saying that beating Eggman is "like his job or something," Sonic says he's got a flawless score card against Eggman. He doesn't take Eggman seriously as a threat—at least, not to his face. He acts like it's all a game. But he conveys this in a way that feels truer to the character, rather than feeling like the words of a real world observer poking fun at the tropes of the Sonic series.
Is this amazing, A+ dialogue that blows me away? No. Again, it's not a completely different scene from the one we already had. Ian had to fit the beats of what was already there. He couldn't go all out and write an all new story confirming his longstanding headcanon that the Time Eater is a remnant of Solaris or whatever. But the wording here makes the existing story land a little better and feel truer to the characters in subtle ways.
But to me, the main change is that the Sonics and Tailses seem to have a more solid understanding of what's going on with the timeline and the Time Eater, compared to how idiotic they sometimes seemed in the original game. Which is good! No more standing outside Green Hill and wondering why it seems so familiar. Thank god. As part of this, yes, there are a few more references to past games in the dialogue, like Sonic briefly being confused about the fact that they're time traveling without the Time Stones, or South Island and Westside Island being acknowledged as the normal locations of Green Hill and Chemical Plant. Yes, ha ha, insert joke about how Ian loves references here. Look, it's Sonic fucking Generations. It's a game built entirely out of nostalgic references. Just own it! And, again, in this instance Sonic and Tails come off as less stupid when they make it clear that they do, in fact, remember their adventures from presumably less than a year ago in-universe.
Eggman, too, seems to have a better understanding of the powers he's toying with. Where in the original vesion his focus was simply on going back in time to undo his previous defeats and he seemed kind of oblivious to how much the Time Eater was actually fucking up the universe, here Eggman says he wants to use the Time Eater to give himself complete control over the entire timeline. Eggman also makes way fewer references to his own failures and shortcomings. Of course he won't admit that Sonic has defeated him time and time again. To him, he's never truly lost—Sonic just keeps delaying the inevitable total victory for the Eggman Empire.
So, yes. The new Sonic Generations script is better. It won't blow anyone away, but it's better than it was. It's been elevated from "kinda lame" to "fine." No, if you really wanna see Ian flex his ability to breathe new life into old Sonic stories, look no further than...
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Gerald Robotnik's Journal
Hoo boy.
The story of what happened aboard the ARK has always been... a bit confusing, to say the least. Fans with encyclopedic knowledge of the script for every route of Shadow '05 may disagree, but it's the truth. We've had all the pieces to understand the story for a long time now, but that info was given to us out of order by a pair of unreliable narrators—Gerald, who became a vengeful lunatic shortly before his death, and Shadow, who was subjected to multiple rounds of amnesia and altered memories. Some of the ambiguity left by Sonic Adventure 2 was cleared up in Shadow '05, but that game also retconned in a bunch of new elements to Shadow's backstory (aliens!) that lead to further confusion. Not to mention the fact that that game had multiple routes and only revealed the truth about Shadow if you sat on the ultimate final boss battle for WAY longer than the fight would normally last. Or the fact that Sonic X made its own tweaks in its telling of the story. Or the fact that none of these things ever had the best English translations. I can't blame anyone who hasn't played those games in two decades for not remembering the truth about these characters and getting some details mixed up.
What we needed was something to piece together all of the info we have into one coherent backstory, told in chronological order. And thanks to Shadow Generations, we have that, in the form of an official journal tying together what we knew from Sonic Adventure 2, Shadow '05, and Sonic Battle into the tragic tale of Gerald's rise and fall.
Ian Flynn was the perfect man for the job here as the guy who started his career by tidying up the mess that was the first 159 issues if Archie Sonic. This is what he excels at: taking disparate bits of weird Sonic lore from multiple different sources, boiling them down to their most interesting elements, and connecting it together in a way that will make the audience see the dramatic potential he's always known was there. Rather than feeling like a cynical exercise in franchise building, going back and explaining things that never needed explaining so that people can add more bullet points to the wiki, he puts a new spin on things that retroactively enriches those past stories. The story here means something to the characters involved and gives us a better understanding of them as people, rather than as plot devices to motivate Shadow.
(And, of course, Ian didn't do this journal alone. He wrote the story, but I also have to give a huge shout out to Evan Stanley, who made the final product. All of her handwritten journal entries, sketches, and "photos" included throughout. The physical damage done to the journal over the course of 50 tumultuous years, passing from Gerald to Eggman to a certain special someone at GUN. The way Gerald's handwriting gets less and less legible as his mental state declines. So much love was put into what could have been a mere text dump in a menu, and it really elevates it to the next level. Congrats on officially getting hired by Sega, Evan, you've sure as hell earned it!)
The main idea the journal conveys is that Gerald was under a lot of pressure from a lot of different parties—GUN, the President, his colleagues aboard the ARK, Black Doom, even his own family—and boy did it get to him. The known incidents aboard the ARK mentioned in previous games are put together here to form a story where everything slowly spirals out of control as Gerald keeps compromising his morals to further his research, thinking he'll eventually find some way out of all this because he's a genius. I won't recap that whole story here (if you haven't already played the game and read the journal entries, I would highly recommend at least reading it on the Sonic wiki), but I'd like to highlight my favorite elements of the story, as Ian tells it here.
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1) The Eclipse Cannon
Here's something that never quite made sense in Sonic Adventure 2: why does the ARK have a laser that can blow up the Earth built into it? It was supposed to be a peaceful research colony. Sure, Gerald went crazy and swore revenge on the Earth, but, like... when did he have an opportunity to go back up to the ARK and modify it? Did he have someone else do it? How? The ARK was raided by GUN and shut down! And then they arrested him, held him in prison for an unclear period of time, and executed him by firing squad when he was no longer useful! It doesn't add up. Shadow 'the Hedgehog '05 would give its own answer by introducing the Black Arms and saying that the Eclipse Cannon was always supposed to be a secret trump card against the Black Comet. But, like... we know that's kind of a bullshit answer, right? You don't need enough power to blow up a whole planet just to destroy a comet.
Well, the new journal retains what we already knew, but it paints a much more complete picture.
See, long before Gerald ever made a Faustian bargain with Black Doom, he had already made one with an even greater evil: the military. GUN gave Gerald much of the funding for the ARK, Gerald's personal utopian research station in space, but it didn't take long for GUN to start pressuring him to design them weapons. Gerald tried to get GUN off his back by personally contacting the President of the United Federation, and the President gave him an alternative: how about, instead, you just use your genius brain to figure out the secret to immortality for us, so our soldiers can be immortal? Gerald was initially sickened by the notion and found it completely absurd, like chasing a shadow... but given no other option, the sarcastically named Project Shadow soon began in earnest. (Maria would later put a more positive spin on the name after Shadow's awakening, pointing out that a Shadow can show us the direction of the light, like she says in the game itself.)
Of course, this search for the ultimate life form didn't go very well, and without any results on that front GUN kept hounding him for weapons. Gerald would throw them a bone here and there to get them off his back. His research on Chaos resulted in the Artifical Chaos prototypes, which he worried would be used for warfare but could at least theoretically be used for search and rescue missions in floods, in his mind. But that wasn't enough. So he gave them Chaos Drives to power their mechs. And that still wasn't enough. He's got Emerl. He'll give them Emerl. They're not impressed by Emerl. They'll shut the whole ARK down if Gerald doesn't give them something big.
Fine! GUN wants something big? Gerald builds a huge fucking laser cannon into the ARK. However, as a middle finger to GUN, Gerald makes it so powerful that it would destroy the Earth if it was ever fired at any target on its surface. In other words, GUN now has their ultimate weapon of mass destruction, fulfilling his contract, but they can never actually use it. Oh, the delicious irony. (And also Shadow will blow up the Black Comet with it in 50 years yada yada yada.) Is this perhaps extremely shortsighted and naive of Gerald, to believe that such a weapon would never actually be used just because of the risk? Of course. But hey, that's Gerald for you. And I love this as an answer.
(Also, this, uh, kinda echoes something from real life! Remember the bit in Oppenheimer where he says all nuclear war will become unthinkable, and Edward Teller responds "until somebody builds a bigger bomb"? Yeah, Teller went on to conceptualize a superweapon codenamed Project Sundial that would have been able to kill all life on the planet, as the ultimate deterrent for war. This was never made for obvious reasons, but hey, there's a basis for this sort of thinking outside of heightened sci-fi! There's a whole Kurzgesagt video about this if you're interested.)
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2) The Biolizard
The Biolizard is, of course, brought up as the initial failed prototype of the ultimate life form, from before Gerald met Black Doom. We don't really learn all that much about it that we didn't already know, but I just love the way it's framed in the story.
As you can see above, we actually get to see a picture of Maria holding up the cute little salamander that would end up mutating into the Biolizard through Gerald's experiments. (Researchers want to figure out how to replicate salamanders' regenerative abilities for humans in real life, too, so this was a natural starting point for the project.) And then, after it grows to a monstrous size and goes out of control, Gerald has to lock it away in an unused sector of the ARK. He needs to keep the poor thing alive for his research into harnessing Chaos Energy, building life support systems directly into it, but he doesn't have the heart to tell Maria what happened. So it just becomes this first dark secret weighing on his conscience. The Biolizard becomes Gerald's Tell-Tale Heart beating beneath the floorboards of the ARK. I love that.
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3) Lost Impact was the breaking point for the ARK
Remember the level Lost Impact in Shadow '05? The flashback level on the hero path where Shadow is running around fighting Artificial Chaos enemies on the ARK 50 years ago? Yeah, that wasn't just a random incident. That was important, as we now know due to its placement on the timeline.
See, Emerl's rampage aboard the ARK that was chronicled in Sonic Battle and Dark Beginnings set off a domino effect. Emerl riled up the Artificial Chaos, causing Gerald to lose control of them. They became violent, and so Shadow had to stop them, as depicted in Lost Impact. The thing is, that incident sent an SOS signal to GUN telling them that shit was going down on the ARK. Gerald didsn't fully understand the trouble he was in and assumed that he'd simply be reprimanded by the higher ups, or maybe face legal action. But, well... the next time he heard from GUN, armed troopers were raiding the ARK.
So Lost Impact was the straw that broke the camel's back. I just really like that detail.
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4) Maria
And, of course, there's Maria herself. Maria has often been more of a symbol than a character, this perfect embodiment of everything that's good and pure in this world who gets killed to motivate Shadow and Gerald's revenge plots. But I really like the wrinkles this journal adds to her and Gerald's story, and their relationship. This is the most fleshed out they've ever felt.
For one, the journal leans into the idea of Maria's intellectual potential. The rest of the Robotnik family is all geniuses, after all, and she was proving to be a really bright kid. She excelled in her studies on the ARK, and she even helped design Shadow's jet skates and inhibitor rings. When Maria died, the world didn't just lose a symbolic personification of purity. She genuinely could have been a hugely influential scientist who did so much good for the world. That's what Gerald wanted for her. But we'll never know, because GUN killed her.
Speaking of her family, their presence isn't just mentioned for the sake of fleshing out the Robotnik family tree. It's mentioned that as Gerald struggled to find a cure for Maria's illness through his genetic research, he faced mounting pressure from his family. They didn't want Maria to be up on the ARK forever. They wanted Gerald to hurry up and find a damn cure, or otherwise just send her back home to Earth so she could be with her family again. She'd been up on the ARK for so long that Gerald's coworkers started thinking that she had been born up there. Eventually she gains a baby sister on Earth who she's never met. A rift forms between Gerald's two sons, and he's unable to really deal with it because he's so consumed by his work. There's this sense that the family is falling apart, and that everyone is dreading the possibility that Gerald will never find a cure and that Maria will just spend her final years up in space and die far away from her family, because Gerald just couldn't let go. If that happens, it'll break the whole family. But he can't stop now. So he just keeps working. Curing Maria is the only way to win his family back, in his eyes. It can't all be for nothing.
But my favorite detail regarding Maria is this one paragraph:
Maria is growing into a lovely young woman. It breaks my heart that someone as bright and energetic as her is diminished by disease. There are no visible effects, and I've caught my fellow researchers muttering to each other, doubting her illness. It is infuriating. I find all my reason and restraint vanishes when she's slighted.
This is SUCH a great addition to the story! It's always been true that Maria doesn't really seem all that ill, just looking at her in cutscenes. With this one little comment, Ian flips that issue on its head and turns it into a story about invisible disability. She doesn't act like she's in chronic pain, so she must not be, everyone thinks. And this really, really gets to Gerald, as does the pressure from his family. He's dedicating his whole LIFE to saving her, and they think she's faking it?! It's such a small addition, never referenced elsewhere in the journal, but it adds so much flavor to the story, as does the implied family drama. It grounds Gerald and Maria and makes them feel more like real human beings, rather than being pure archetypes. It's just enough info to let my imagination run wild filling in the blanks.
You also get the feeling that Maria being such a walking ray of sunshine was the only real source of joy Gerald had left in his life before Shadow was awakened, and the only thing keeping him from snapping under pressure sooner. All this stuff just keeps piling on, everything's spiraling out of control, but at least Maria is keeping her chin up, right? It makes so much sense that losing her would make him go off the deep end when it's framed like this.
It's just... man, I never thought I'd care so much about Gerald and Maria. But that's the Ian Flynn touch. After years of less than stellar Sonic writing that seemed to be embarrassed of itself, I'm so happy to have new games coming out that fully embrace the history of the series like this, making its world feel so rich and real instead of just serving as an excuse for a string of platforming levels. I don't even like Shadow '05, but I'll be damned if Ian and the rest of Sonic Team didn't make something amazing by "yes, and"-ing Shadow's cringe past here. Sonic has truly reached levels of "we're so back" never thought possible.
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ginnsbaker · 4 months ago
Text
All Of Your Pieces (1 - Honey! I shrunk the kids! 18+)
Summary: Wanda accidentally shrinks your kids while trying out a spell that would benefit both of you in the bedroom; Jimmy and Darcy attempt to find out more about the Hex, particularly when they discover a remarkable detail about you. Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader Chapter word count: 3k+ | Tags: Smut, Campy Humor, Language
A/N: I've been working on this series since late August and have finally figured out what to do with it, enough to share it with you all. The story will be told in three parts: Westview (The Missing Town), Pre-Westview, and Post-Westview. This follows some events in WandaVision, but it's very canon-divergent. It's going to be different from my other works (I've never written humor before and I'm quite insecure about that), as this one is very plot-driven but at the same time, still very much Wanda x Reader (especially in parts 2 and 3). Updates will be every Wednesday. Chapters will be 2.5–3.5k words long, except for the ending chapters of each part, which are twice as long. So, without further ado… More author's notes here.
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
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“Honey! I shrunk the kids!” 
Wanda bursts into the basement, apron billowing out like a cape. Except, there's no draft down here; that apron shouldn't be moving like that at all. But then again, considering your wife’s claim, maybe the laws of physics are taking a day off.
You glance up from the miniature model home you’re meticulously working on, unsure if you heard her right. Did she really just say that? 
“You what?”
Wanda, flushed and a little breathless, skids to a stop in front of you. “Okay, so I was experimenting with a new spell, one that was supposed to…” She bites her lip, hesitating, her face glowing a deeper shade of red. “...it was supposed to do something else, but it backfired and... well, it’s not important right now!”
“Jesus, Wanda.”
Your poor, beautiful, occasionally clumsy wife stands there, teetering between a freak-out and a fit of giggles. 
“It was an accident! I didn't mean to!” Wanda shrieks, causing the room to tremble from her panic.
Wanda's powers have always been a wildcard. You can child-proof the entire house in a day, but that definitely doesn't cover child-proofing Wanda herself—especially not when your kids are involved. Luckily, the boys have inherited some special abilities of their own, which leaves you as the sole non-superpowered member of the household. With that in mind, you know better than to panic. Getting worked up alongside her would only escalate things, and you’re not exactly keen on being shrunk next.
“Okay…where are they now?” you ask as calmly as you can manage.
Wanda takes a deep breath and leads you to the living room. You trail her in silence, clutching at composure. It can’t be that bad, right? The distant sound of playful music trickling through the house almost makes it seem like everything’s fine. You hadn’t really noticed it before, but now that you think about it, it’s like your brain has learned to associate that kind of tune with situations that somehow always end in collective sighs of relief.
Sighs, giggles, and applause—sounds that don't belong to Wanda or the boys.
Where are they coming from?
Before your mind can completely sink into the oddities of your life here in Westview, Wanda halts in the middle of the living room. Your eyes dart around, searching for Billy and Tommy, but they’re nowhere to be seen.
“Where?”
“Right there,” Wanda points toward the coffee table, her finger trembling slightly.
You squint in the direction she’s pointing. Next to the TV remote, two tiny figures wave up at you—your sons, each about the size of your thumb.
“Oh my god, they’re tiny!” you gasp, covering your mouth with your hand. You expected them to be at least half their normal size—a size they might grow out of eventually.
“Shhhh, Y/N!” Wanda hisses, pressing her index finger to her lips. “The neighbors might hear you.”
Neighbors. Which usually means just Agnes from next door. There’s literally several meters of spaces between your houses, but somehow, she always manages to hear things she shouldn’t and pries like she’s in some perfectly timed routine.
Wanda kneels by the coffee table, her eyes soft. “I told them to stay right there until we sorted this out.”
The twins start making noises, sounding like tiny bells, though still hard to make out. You pull out a magnifying glass from your back pocket—has that been there the whole time?—making sure your sons are okay. As soon as the lenses zoom in on their faces, you're relieved to see them laughing uproariously, seemingly unbothered by their predicament.
“They seem... happy?” you say, lowering the magnifying glass.
“They think it's hilarious,” Wanda grumbles, her lips curling into a pout.
“So,” you sigh, pushing yourself to your feet. “Any ideas on how to fix this?”  You're tempted to suggest just letting it run its course, waiting for the spell to fizzle out, but you know Wanda wouldn’t go for that. She's fiercely protective of the twins, and you can't blame her—it’s all her handiwork, after all.
Then you hear it—a hiccup. Another follows, and then another, each one a little louder than the last.
Before you know it, Wanda's a sobbing mess.
You cup her face in your hands. “Hey, hey...it’s okay,” you murmur, gently brushing away a tear with your thumb.
Wanda’s breath hitches as she looks at you, her eyes brimming with worry. “What if I can’t fix it?”
“We will,” you promise, looking into her eyes.
A collective ‘awww’ rings in your ears, pulling you out of the moment. What the hell—where did that come from? You've had this creepy feeling of being watched lately, and it's only getting worse.
Wanda brings you back to focus when she nuzzles into your palm. “Oh, Y/N, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
You give her a small, lopsided grin and plant a kiss on her forehead. “Good thing you’ll never have to find out.” Something passes over her eyes as soon as you say it, but it vanishes in a split-second, replaced by a moment of inspiration.
“Wait,” she bursts out, stepping away from your embrace. “I think I have an idea.”
She heads straight for the fridge, and you trail after her, holding your breath.
“I’ve been trying to reverse it, but my magic isn’t cooperating. It’s like... it’s tangled,” Wanda mutters, yanking things out of the fridge.
You scowl, arms crossed, watching her. “Tangled? What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. The more I try to fix it, the worse it gets. Like it has a life of its own,” she says. she says. After a few more seconds of rummaging, Wanda finally grabs a tetra pack of chocolate milk—the twins' favorite.
“I’m hoping this will do the trick,” she says, giving the carton a shake.
You cock your head, clueless on what’s going on. “Honey, what’s going on?”
Wanda mumbles, barely glancing up as she vigorously shakes the carton. “Just doing what it says—’Shake well before serving.’”
You roll your eyes, muttering, “This woman...”. Then louder, you ask, “I mean, what’s the chocolate got to do with our tiny children?”
Wanda stops mid-shake, a look of realization dawning on her face. “Oh, right,” she slaps her forehead. “You can’t read minds. I keep forgetting,” she chuckles, setting down the carton with a sheepish grin.
There it is again—a chorus of laughter from somewhere far off. Your mouth twitches at the sound—it’s really starting to get on your nerves. You make a mental note to bring it up with Wanda later.
Wanda gathers herself, then pitches her plan. “Instead of directly casting a spell on the twins, I think it’s safer to enchant this chocolate milk.” She picks up the carton again, giving it a final shake. “The idea is to infuse the milk with a spell that will gradually restore them to their normal sizes.”
You nod, beginning to understand what she’s trying to do. “Sounds less risky than zapping them with more magic head on.”
“Exactly,” she agrees, her eyes lighting up with excitement. You’d swear she’s getting a kick out of this macabre parenting hack—kids and all. The background tune keeps playing, like a promise that the universe won’t let things turn to shit. You’re wondering if maybe Wanda hears it too.
“This way, the magic is diluted and can adjust more naturally with their systems. It’s like... sneaking the cure into their bodies,” she says, snapping her fingers, red swirls of magic emanating from them to the carton of milk.
“I'm so proud of you, baby,” you say, leaning in for a quick kiss which she happily accepts. “For finding a fix, I mean. The whole shrinking our kids thing? Still not great.”
“What kind of spell do you think Wanda was going for?” Darcy asks, her eyes fixed on the credits rolling across the screen before it fades to black. She’s really gotten into Wanda’s little show, a welcome distraction from the freezing depths of hell that is New Jersey in November. Though exciting things are finally happening to her, the timing couldn't be worse. 
“No clue,” Jimmy mutters, his attention glued to the laptop in front of him. It’s been two days since Quantico sent him to look into the bizarre case of a missing town—a phenomenon almost unheard of in the 21st century. Upon arriving, they discovered that the town in question, Westview, was enveloped by some sort of anomaly—or a Hex, as Darcy has started calling it, referring to the hexagonal shape of the barrier encasing the town. 
Around the same time as the discovery, S.W.O.R.D. agent Monica Rambeau was quite literally sucked into the anomaly by accident. The only breakthrough has been Darcy Lewis’ detection of the signals, providing them with a window into the mysterious shroud, even helping them identify some of the show's characters as actual residents of the town.
But overall, they're still desperately trying to piece together why this is happening and how to stop it.
Darcy peeks over at the data on Jimmy’s screen. “Find anything new?”
Jimmy sighs in frustration. “No, not really. Everything we dig up just adds more questions instead of answers.”
“Like what, for instance?”
Instead of answering directly, he slides a thick file across the table toward her. “See for yourself.”
Darcy catches the file and starts flipping through it. Murmuring, she says, “So, Google finally returned search results?” The stack of papers is downright daunting. Jimmy’s right—any mountain of information would raise more questions than answers.
“No, not Google,” Jimmy corrects her. “Stark's highly confidential database did. The woman Wanda's married to in Westview? She’s not in any public records. Turns out her records were wiped clean two years ago.”
Darcy looks up, puzzled. “Why would Stark's company have this?”
“Just read, Darcy. It’s all in there,” he says, turning his full attention back to his research.
Darcy frowns slightly and begins scanning through the pages more attentively. It takes her a few minutes to piece together the information she's reading, with her mind going in different directions and still burning with curiosity about the spell Wanda botched.
Finally, she reads aloud, somewhat incredulously, “Subject was recognized as S.H.I.E.L.D.'s youngest marksmanship prodigy prior to recruitment by Stark Industries following the dissolution of S.H.I.E.L.D.. Subsequently provided tactical support on multiple classified operations in conjunction with the Avengers initiative.”
She sets the file down thoughtfully. “Kinda reminds me a bit of Romanoff or Barton. Total badass. I hadn’t pegged Maximoff for that crowd.”
“What crowd did you have Wanda filed under?” Jimmy asks, just out of curiosity.
Darcy’s gaze drifts off, a dreamy smirk on her lips. “Honestly? I always pictured her—or anyone for that matter—swooning over someone more…mythical hammer than tactical espionage.”
Jimmy snorts to himself at Darcy's whimsical take and says, “Of course, you’d say that. Thor's everyone's type.”
“He’s yours too?”
“Yeah, why not,” Jimmy shrugs, his tone more reluctant than sarcastic, which only amuses Darcy more.
“So,” Darcy begins, “Wanda's settled down in New Jersey, married to a woman? I mean, good for her. They all deserve a break. Maybe even an early retirement.”
Jimmy lets out a long, tired sigh, like he's just about done with everything. Darcy notices and raises an eyebrow. “What now?”
He barely glances up. “Like I said, everything’s in there. Just keep reading.”
Darcy groans but goes back to the file, flipping through the pages again. She’s about to make a snarky comment when something catches her attention—something that has her eyes practically popping out of their sockets.
“It… it says here Y/N’s dead.”
“That’s right,” Jimmy responds without missing a beat.
“Not snapped five years ago. Dead-dead.”
“Yep.”
Darcy stares at the page, disbelief all over her face. “That can’t be right, can it?”
Jimmy finally swivels his chair to face her, looking as tired as he sounds. “That’s what I’ve been trying to wrap my head around for hours. If aliens and superheroes are real, maybe bringing someone back from the dead to star in a sitcom isn’t so far-fetched, right?”
You carefully pull the blankets up over Billy, smoothing his hair and whispering a soft good night. Tommy’s already half-asleep, but you make sure to tuck him in just as snugly, brushing a kiss on his forehead. Wanda stands in the doorway, watching you, her heart swelling in her chest. You were so clueless when she first had the twins, but now, being a mother just seems to come naturally to you. 
And you pulled it off in a week, while the twins stretched into six-year-olds just as fast.
“Honey,” you call softly, noticing the way she’s lost in thought. “Aren’t you going to say good night to our boys?”
Wanda steps into the room, giving each of the boys their good night kiss. You pucker your lips, silently asking for your turn, and she playfully swats your arm, whispering, “Not here, baby.”
You pout, giving her your best puppy-dog eyes, which only makes her smile. Without warning, you grab her hand and hurriedly pull her out of the boys' room, making a beeline for your bedroom. Wanda’s laughter fills the hallway, and just as you reach the door, you suddenly sweep her off the ground, lifting her into your arms.
Wanda lets out a shriek, her laughter infectious, and you can’t help but grin, even as you let her thump onto the mattress—a sloppy, graceless drop. You follow her onto the bed, rolling onto your stomach to peer down at her, still sporting that stupid smile.
“So, about that kiss you owe me,” you whisper, hovering closer, teasing her with your proximity.
Wanda nods distractedly. “I think I can manage that,” she murmurs, and then her lips are on yours.
It starts simple and sweet. Though soon, her tongue is gently nudging your lips apart, and it quickly becomes anything but. Her hands slip down to your back, pulling you close until her heartbeat hammering against yours. You break away, lips trailing down to her neck, exploring every dip and hollow, your tongue darting out to taste her skin. When you hit that spot just behind her ear, the one that always drives her wild, she gasps.
“Don't start something you can’t finish,” she warns, her voice already thick with want.
“Who says I won't?” you shoot back with a wolfish grin.
You both fall into a familiar routine, as easy to slip into as the back of your hand. There’s no hurry, just the two of you moving languidly—whispering against skin, giggles turning into sighs and breathy moans. Sometimes, being with Wanda feels like a desperate need, as if not having her completely would literally be the end of you. But it’s moments like these that are your favorite—the ones where you’re barely even trying, yet she still comes apart at your touch, at the mere feeling of your fingers on her. 
Eventually, you both settle down, a contented sigh escaping you as you curl up against Wanda, your skin slightly damp with the effort of your love. You like this, being the little spoon, hiding your face in her neck like you’re hiding from the world, though you vaguely recall a time when it was usually her in your arms. 
As you’re staggering on the edge of sleep, Wanda’s fingers gently massage your scalp, her lips dropping soft, pensive kisses on your forehead. You're almost out, but one last question keeps you from drifting off entirely.
“Wanda, that spell earlier that shrunk the boys—what was that about?” you mumble, your words slurring into the dream nipping at your consciousness.
Wanda’s laughter rumbles through her chest, nudging you slightly from your drowsy state.
“Come on, tell me,” you coax, giving her side a playful pinch to keep her talking.
“It’s embarrassing,” she mumbles, her face turning a delightful shade of pink again that spreads down her neck and chest. Her coy reaction wakes you up some more. As a twisted kind of payback, you run your tongue rough over her nipple, snatching a sharp gasp from her. Moving up, you hold her flushed cheek, making sure she’s looking right at you. Your thigh presses between hers, and it doesn’t take long before she’s wet and ready again.
“Are you going to tell me, or do you plan on sleeping with a wet pussy tonight?” you whisper, brushing your lips against the corner of her mouth. Under different circumstances, Wanda would scold you for your crudeness, but right now, she's too worked up to care. Your dirty mouth has always been one of the most irritating yet irresistible things about you. Even having kids hasn’t changed that.
“I was trying to... enchant your...” she starts, but then your hand tightens on her butt, spurring her subtle grinding movements. By this time, she’s practically dripping onto the sheets, her thoughts scattering as the tightening sensation below her stomach builds.
“My what?” you push, smirking as you watch her fumble for words. You hoist her leg, resting it on your shoulder, laying her wide open. You slide two fingers inside her, fucking her slowly while your thumb brutally circles her clit. As she hesitates to answer, you hook in another finger, drawing a sharp cry of pleasure from Wanda. Your gaze stays locked on your wife, a part of you as surprised as she might be at your boldness tonight.
All day, she’s haunted every corner of your mind, fantasizing about stealing a quick, desperate moment while the twins are asleep or at Agnes’s. But there’s been something—an unnameable restraint—holding you back from indulging those wicked impulses. It isn’t until the boys are asleep, the house quiet, that those invisible chains start to loosen. That’s when you can finally allow yourself to desire Wanda the way you really want to. The way you’ve always been meant to.
“Your... clit,” Wanda finally spits out, seeing you've drifted off, stuck in your head. “I thought I could make it... well, longer. Like a...” She chokes on the words, too embarrassed to finish.
“Like a cock?” you throw out crudely, looking down at her impishly.
Wanda nods, mortified but also a little defiant. “Wanted you to fuck me with it,” she mumbles, finding her backbone now that the secret's in the open.
“I am fucking you,” you whisper hotly right into her ear. “But if you want it like that, all you have to do is say the word.”
Wanda clenches around you at the thought of doing it like that in the near future, her breath hitching. “Please,” she mewls, the word dripping with need. 
“Good girl,” you growl, cranking up the pace as you drive your fingers harder inside her, making her gasp and arch towards you. “You can come.”
With a choked whimper, Wanda surrenders, her body seizing as her orgasm washes over her. She soaks your wrist, the clear fluid trickling down onto the sheets, but you don't stop, pushing through every pulse of her release until she's quaking, utterly wrecked beneath you. You patiently wait until her spasms subside before slowly pulling your fingers away.
Wanda's hand shoots out, stopping your movements. “Stay,” she implores, sounding like she's on the verge of tears. You're momentarily startled by her reaction, concerned something might be wrong. Swiftly, you slide your fingers back where they belong, nestled deep inside her.
“Okay, baby, I’m not going anywhere,” you murmur, pushing back the damp strands of hair sticking to her forehead with your free hand. Exhaustion begins to cloud your senses as you sink down beside Wanda, still keeping your hand where she wants it. 
“I'm sorry for needing you so much,” Wanda murmurs, her voice shaky with tears you can't see, your cheek pressed against the pillow beside hers.
“Don't be,” you mumble, half-lost to sleep as she clings to you more tightly. “I’m here.”
“You love me,” she says, a hint of wonder, of fear.
You nod, lips brushing the nape of her neck. “And you love me,” you murmur back, your eyes slipping shut. “I'm not going anywhere, Wanda.”
“For now,” she whispers to herself, once your breathing evens out in sleep.
Tears betray her then, and she clamps a hand over her mouth to keep quiet. But just before her sobs fully break free, she flicks a finger, a thin red wisp of magic ensuring you stay deep in sleep.
With you unaware, Wanda surrenders to her grief.
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scoupsakakitty · 3 months ago
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Front Row Hearts | idol!S.Coups x idol!reader | fluff
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My fingers tugged nervously at the hem of my outfit as I stepped out of the car. The Loewe fashion show. My first big event as a newcomer idol. My debut had been a whirlwind, but this? This felt completely different. There were cameras flashing, people shouting, and my heart felt like it was pounding louder than the noise outside.
“You’ll do great,” my manager said, not even looking up from their phone as we made our way inside.
“Right,” I muttered, barely believing them.
“Oh, and by the way,” they added, far too casually, “you’re sitting next to SEVENTEEN’s S.Coups tonight.”
That made me freeze mid-step. “What?”
“It’s part of the plan,” they said with a sly smile. “You and him together? Perfect for the cameras. He’s already on board.”
My stomach flipped. “So… I’m supposed to just sit there and act like we’re close?”
“Exactly,” they replied, as if it was no big deal. “A few laughs, maybe some subtle glances—it’ll get people talking. Trust me, this is good for you. And for him, too. A win-win.”
————————————————————————————
Inside the venue, I was already feeling out of my depth when I spotted him.
Choi Seungcheol. S.Coups.
He stood near the seating area, dressed in a sleek black suit that somehow made him look even more confident than usual. He was chatting with someone from his team, but as soon as I walked in, his eyes landed on me.
He smiled, an easy, disarming smile that made me feel like maybe I wouldn’t completely embarrass myself tonight.
“You must be Y/N,” he said, stepping closer. His voice was warm, and up close, his presence was even more overwhelming.
“That’s me,” I managed to say, my voice quieter than I intended.
“I’m Seungcheol,” he said, his hand outstretched. “Or just S.Coups, if you’d rather.”
I shook his hand, hoping he couldn’t feel how clammy mine was. “Nice to meet you.”
His eyes lingered on me for a second longer than necessary, and his smile softened. “Don’t be nervous. Tonight’s going to be fun.”
———————————————-—————————————
The seating arrangement was exactly as planned—front row, side by side. Every camera in the room was aimed in our direction, but Seungcheol looked completely unfazed. Meanwhile, I could barely sit still.
“You okay?” he asked, leaning in slightly.
“Just a little overwhelmed,” I admitted, keeping my eyes on the runway.
He chuckled quietly, the sound low and comforting. “Don’t worry about them,” he said, nodding toward the cameras. “They’re not as scary as they look. Just act like it’s me and you.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” I replied, trying not to notice how close his shoulder was to mine.
“Hey,” he said, his tone teasing now. “If it makes you feel better, I get nervous too sometimes.”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “You? Nervous?”
“Yeah,” he said with a grin. “Like right now. What if you think I’m boring?”
I couldn’t help but laugh, my nerves easing just a little. “You’re definitely not boring.”
“Good,” he said, leaning back slightly but still keeping his gaze on me. “Because I plan on keeping you entertained all night.”
————————————————————————————
The show itself was stunning, but Seungcheol made it impossible to focus. Every so often, he’d lean over and whisper a comment about one of the outfits, usually something ridiculous that had me biting back laughter.
“That jacket looks like my grandma’s curtains,” he said at one point, and I had to cover my mouth to keep from laughing too loudly.
“You’re going to get me in trouble,” I whispered back.
“Trouble?” he repeated, smirking. “I think you’re blaming me for your terrible sense of humor.”
————————————————————————————
After the show ended, the photographers were still lingering, and Seungcheol turned to me with a glint in his eye. “Want to give them something to really talk about?”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“A TikTok,” he said, already pulling out his phone.
“You’re kidding.”
“I’m serious,” he said, grinning. “Let’s do the ‘HOT’ challenge. The fans will love it.”
Before I could protest, he had already opened the app and handed me the phone. “You know the dance, right?”
“Of course I know the dance,” I said, pretending to be confident even though my heart was racing.
“Alright then,” he said, stepping back and getting into position.
We started the dance, and at first, I was too nervous to focus. But Seungcheol made it easy to forget about everything else. He was playful, teasing me whenever I missed a move, and somehow, we ended up laughing more than dancing.
“Come on,” he said after we finished, reviewing the video. “Not bad, but I think you held back.”
“I did not!” I argued, crossing my arms.
“Sure you didn’t,” he said, smirking. Then, out of nowhere, he added, “So… are you a Carat?”
I froze, my mind going blank. “Uh… what makes you think that?”
He raised an eyebrow. “You knew the dance. And you’ve been way too quiet about it. So? Who’s your bias?”
I hesitated, debating whether or not to tell him the truth. But before I could stop myself, I blurted out, “Mingyu.”
Seungcheol stared at me for a second, clearly caught off guard. Then he burst out laughing, the sound loud and genuine.
“Mingyu?” he repeated, shaking his head. “I can’t believe this.”
“What?” I said, suddenly feeling defensive. “He’s charming!”
He leaned in, his grin teasing. “So I’m not charming?”
“I didn’t say that,” I muttered, my face burning.
“Well,” he said, still smirking, “I’ll just have to work harder, won’t I?”
————————————————————————————-
After we finished the TikTok, Seungcheol walked me to the exit. The crowd had thinned out, but the air between us felt heavier now—like something unspoken was hanging there.
“This was fun,” he said, his voice quieter now.
“Yeah,” I replied, meeting his gaze.
He hesitated for a moment before leaning in slightly. “We should do this again. No cameras next time.”
I felt my heart skip, but before I could respond, my manager called me over, breaking the moment.
“Guess I’ll see you soon,” he said, his tone light but his eyes serious.
“Yeah,” I said softly, watching as he walked away.
————————————————————————————-
When I got back to my hotel room, I barely had time to kick off my shoes before my phone buzzed.
A new message.
The number wasn’t saved, but the text was unmistakable:
“Dinner soon? Just us this time. I’ll even forgive you for picking Mingyu. —Seungcheol”
I stared at the screen, my face breaking into a grin before I even realized it.
Maybe tonight wasn’t just for show after all.
————————————————————————————
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sweetdispatch · 2 months ago
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The card - Q. Hughes
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6 days of kinkmas pairing: Quinn Hughes x girlfriend!reader summary: Quinn and his girlfriend got into argument which led him to teach her manners warning: NSFW, graphic sex (18+), safeword, dom!quinn, oral (f and m receiving), dacryphilia, slapping, orgasm denial note: final day of kinkmas is here! but i have a surprise for 24th👀
Quinn, as a captain, was organising a Christmas party for his team. He needed your help but you were giving him a cold shoulder. A day earlier you two got into an argument and you didn’t want to forget this without apologies from him. You felt offended by his words and how low he thinks about you. As much as you wanted to help him, you didn’t want to give him satisfaction. 
“All I’m saying is that it would be nice if you would tell me about this party at least a week earlier. Not day before” You sighed, trying to explain to him why you were mad.
“You don’t do anything so what’s the issue that I told you this now?” 
“What is this supposed to mean?” His comment made you furrow yours eyebrows. 
“You’re sitting at home the whole day doing nothing. It shouldn’t make a difference that I told you now” He shrugged and you looked at him, shocked at the words he just said to you. You left the living room and went to the bedroom. 
This was yesterday and the two of you haven’t spoken since then. You had nothing to tell him because Quinn is the wrong one. If he thinks that you’re doing nothing, that’s exactly what you decided to do. You saw that he was struggling with preparing meals and cleaning at the same time but you were too stubborn to help him. 
“Could you help me with the cake? You're a much better baker than I am” He asked you politely when he saw you getting water from the fridge, but you hadn’t responded. You went back to the bathroom to do your makeup and acted like you hadn't heard anything. 
Quinn was furious at you. He couldn’t understand why you’re acting this way. In his mind, he hadn’t said anything wrong and you were the one who’s making a big deal of your conversation. He decided to let it slip for now, but after the party, he knew he’ll teach you manners. 
The party was going smoothly. You two acted like a loving couple around his teammates while you hadn’t sorted out the argument. You were chatting with other girlfriends when Quinn was standing with the boys near the kitchen island. One of the girls went to grab a drink and interrupted his conversation. 
“You’re a dick Quinn” She said and the boys looked at her. “You’re a dick for telling Y/N that she’s not doing anything in the house”
“Excuse me?” Quinn was taken aback by her words.
“She told us about your argument. How could you say this to her when she’s making everything so you could have a better life” She answered him and left. She sat on the couch and Quinn felt humiliated. 
The boys were chirping at him about this situation and he got even more mad at you. He started thinking about his plan to punish you for what just happened. You were completely unaware of the fact that one of the girls confronted Quinn and enjoyed the party. He could see you laughing from afar but he knew that you won’t be laughing when the two of you will be home alone. 
The party ended around midnight. When you closed the door after the last guests left, you sighed. All you wanted was to take off your makeup and get changed into something more comfortable. You started going to the bathroom when you heard Quinn. 
“Living room. Now” His voice didn’t leave a space for argument. You followed into the room and saw his furious face expression. “You think it’s funny to tell everyone about our conversation? You think this was nice when one of the girls came and called me a dick in front of others?” 
You were shocked. Yes, you told other girls about your argument but you never thought that they would direct this to him. You didn’t know what to say so you just stood there, waiting for his next move. 
“I’m using the card today” You froze hearing it. You completely forgot that a couple months ago you gave him a “card” that meant that he can use you however he wants and do whatever he wants. “You’re under my control and have nothing to say unless it’s a safeword, which is…?” He asked you to be sure you remember. 
“Sunflower” 
“Good, now I want you naked in the bedroom. Hands on your sides and no touching” 
You were turned on by the idea because sex with Quinn was always insane and you were curious what he’s gonna do to you. You took off your dress and threw it on the ground. You sat on the bed, waiting for him to come into the room. You trusted Quinn with your life and you knew that he would never hurt you but something in his voice made you nervous. You’ve been so caught up with your thoughts that you haven’t heard when he entered the room. He was standing only in his underwear. His voice brought you back from your trance. 
“Knees” You listened to him and positioned yourself in front of him. He was caressing your hair and tucked them behind your ear. “We could have a nice night but you had to run with your mouth. I think we need to put it into better use now. You already said too much” 
In a quick move, Quinn took off his underwear and you saw his hard dick. By instinct, you grabbed his dick and started playing with his length. He wasn’t happy with this and pulled your hair roughly so you could face him. 
“I said mouth. Don’t you dare to disobey me because it will end up even worse for you” You nodded and opened your mouth letting him put his dick inside. 
Quinn’s moves were rough. He was pushing his cock into your mouth without any mercy. You were gagging around him but this didn’t stop him. It turned him even more. You could feel the tip of his dick hitting your throat. Tears were spilling from your eyes and he laughed at the sight. Before he could cum in your mouth, he took out his dick. 
“Lay in the bed. Legs wide open” You do what he told you to. He kneeled in front of your pussy and started eating you out. “So wet and I’ve barely done anything” He chuckled and returned to licking your clit. 
Quinn pulled his fingers into your pussy and you moaned loudly. You felt incredible with his tongue on your clit. He could feel that you’re close to your orgasm but he stopped. You looked at him but he didn’t say anything. Only grabbed your hips and threw your body around. You were lying on your stomach when you heard.
“Ass up, face down” You positioned yourself and waited when you felt the first slap on your ass. You screamed by surprise not expecting this. “Next time you’ll want to act like a brat, remember how it feels” 
Quinn spanked you four more times. The pain became a pleasure for you and when the last spank laid, you moaned. He looked at your red ass for a couple seconds. He did this on purpose so you don’t know what he’s gonna do next. The next thing you felt was his dick deep buried inside of you. 
You were a mess under him. It felt so good when Quinn was fucking you roughly. You grabbed the sheet trying to find balance but with each thrust you were falling apart. It didn’t take him long enough to bring you close to your release. When he felt your muscles tightening around him, he pulled out. It was the second time when he didn’t let you cum.
“You’re not gonna cum until I say so” He stated and laid another spank on you. 
“Please Quinn, I need it” You begged him.
“Please Quinn, I need it” He mocked you. “You, my sweet girl don’t have anything to say” 
He thrusted into you again, this time you moaned loudly. He was keeping a hard pace and you went with your hand to touch yourself. Before you could do it, Quinn grabbed your wrist and placed your hand on your back. He did the same with your other hand. Now, you were totally at his mercy. Quinn was keeping your hands behind your back, still fucking into you. You were moaning and begging him to let you cum but he didn’t let you. Again, he pulled out of you and you cried. 
“I am gonna decide when you gonna cum, not you” He said not bothered by your tears.
Quinn threw you again and you were again on your back. He towered over you and thrusted into you again. You moaned but now, he shut you up with a kiss. It was the first time you tasted his lips today. His hand went to circulate your pussy and you started feeling overwhelmed. Other hand, I went to play with your boobs. This was all too much for you. All the touches, teasing and three denial orgasms. You couldn’t take it anymore.
“Sunflower” You said repeatedly, each time quieter from another.
Quinn took his dick out of you and panicked. He knew that he fucked up because you never used it before. He pulled you into a hug and started caressing your back. 
“Shh, you did so well. You’re safe” He was whispering into your ear and you started crying into his shoulder. It was breaking his heart knowing that he’s the reason you’re crying. “I’m so sorry baby, tell me what I can do to make you feel better” 
“Just hold me please” Your voice was breaking at each word. Quinn hugged you tighter and let you calm down. After a couple of minutes, you spoke again. “Can we take a bath and forget about it?” 
“Yes and no” You looked at him. His thumb wiped your tears. “We can take a bath but we have to talk about what happened. I need to know what exactly happened to push you to say this word. And don’t you even think that’s embarrassing. That’s why we have the word. To use it when it’s too much” He placed a kiss on your forehead. 
Quinn raised you and went into a bathroom to prepare your bath so you could relax. He stayed by your side all the time, reassuming you that everything’s fine and you’re safe. You appreciated it that he didn’t leave you alone to deal with this but wanted to help you. When you were ready to leave, again he raised you and gently dressed you up in his shirt and laid you on bed. 
“We don’t have to talk about this now but tomorrow okay?” You nodded and Quinn pecked your lips. “Goodnight babe, I love you and I’m sorry for today… and yesterday” 
“Stop, we’ll talk about everything tomorrow, now let’s just sleep… I love you” You curled into his chest.
---
Part 2
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gloomwitchwrites · 1 year ago
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Missed Hints
King Thorin Oakenshield x Female Reader
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): fluff, light angst, humor, pregnancy, suggestive themes, fade to black, established relationship
Word Count: 1.8k
With the pregnancy confirmed, you decide to drop little hints until Thorin makes the connections.
A/N: for @protosslady
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist
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“You’re pregnant, your majesty.”
Those two little words are enough to make time freeze. You are cold, a bit hesitant, and completely unbelieving of what you’re hearing.
“Are you sure?” you ask slowly, needing to know if you’ve heard her correctly.
The midwife, Lena, smiles broadly. “As sure as the sun rises in the morning. I’ve been doing this for close to thirty summers now. Rarely am I ever wrong.”
Lena’s assistant, Petal, matches Lena’s smile with one of her own. It is radiant and sunny, a stark difference from your sudden anxiousness. “This is wonderful news,” she exclaims. “King Thorin will be so pleased.”
“Indeed,” agrees Lena. “And so will the people when it’s formally announced.”
Both women sigh at the same time, but you are not nearly as excited as they are.
You and Thorin did try for a child many times in the beginning of your marriage. It was enthusiastic—and constant—but nothing ever came of it. While it bothered you, Thorin never seemed to care. He told you that all he wanted was you and that anything else was a bonus.
That is still true. Thorin loves you.
But Thorin is being pulled in a different direction. Erebor needs attention, and Thorin throws himself into service attempting to tackle every obstacle and difficulty on his own. Most nights, he comes to bed late—usually when you’re already asleep. When you wake, he is usually gone, off to take care of his abundant duties. They are piling up, becoming a burden. Thorin does too much, and while you admire him for his dedication, you miss him.
To know that you’re pregnant is a surprise. It’s not that you and Thorin haven’t been intimate, it’s just that it hasn’t been nearly as frequent as in the past. While Thorin is gone, you have your own duties and responsibilities. When the two of you do have quiet time together, intimacy is brief but passionate and almost always followed by the two of you falling asleep in each other’s arms.
“How far along?” you ask, trying to place exactly when it might have taken.
When your cycle never came, you didn’t think much of it. That happens sometimes. But then didn’t occur during the next expected timeframe. With its absence came irritability and random bouts of sudden crying you couldn’t explain. Certain foods smelt odd, and while you weren’t emptying the contents of your stomach, constant nausea made it difficult to complete daily tasks. You knew then that something was different. And now the midwife has confirmed it.
But even with an answer, you’re not sure how you feel.
“I’d place you at about ten weeks. Perhaps eleven,” answers Lena with a slight shrug of her shoulders.
“That far?” you squeak, wincing immediately with how upset you sound.
Lena and Petal’s smiles start to diminish. Their enthusiasm melts away, replaced with furrowed brows and soft lines of concern.
“Is everything all right? You look a bit faint?” Lena places her hand on your shoulder.
“Yes,” you reply, though it sounds like you’re gasping for air. “Surprised is all.”
Their smiles return but it’s subdued.
This is supposed to be a happy occasion. A child means an heir, and it also gives the people hope for the future. Much of Erebor is still in pieces from Smaug’s habitation. That doesn’t even begin to include all the damage and death from the battle. Dale, which was once abandoned and forgotten, is starting to see life again as well. The races of Men are returning to it, hoping to rekindle its long-extinguished flame.
A royal child is a symbol of hope. It’s a moment of celebration for everyone.
“I think a bit of rest for the remainder of the day will do you some good,” says Lena softly. “We will prepare some ointments that you can use to relieve any aches or pains. Bloating is likely, and as the body makes room for the little one, you’ll have some discomfort.” Lena taps her bottom lip and then turns to Petal. “We’ll need to prepare some liquid supplements to take with meals.”
“Of course,” nods Petal. She begins packing up their supplies.
Lena squeezes your shoulder before letting go. “I’ll come check on you in a few days. Bring a few things with me. We’ll talk more then, preferably with the father present.”
“Yes,” you reply, absently rubbing your belly. “That would be best.”
The two women bow and depart quickly, leaving you alone in the royal bedchambers. The room is quiet and your breathing sounds too loud in such a large space. With hands clasped, you twist them over and over again in agitation, needing to move but unsure of how to quell the anxiousness. It’s stubborn like the deep roots of a tree that refuse to give up the dirt.
How are you to tell Thorin? How do you approach this when you rarely see him. It’s just one more thing to burden him with. Perhaps, if you dropped a few hints? Covertly toss the pregnancy in his direction and see if he picks it up?
You know deep in your gut that you shouldn’t worry over this. Thorin will be happy. He will be.
You spend the rest of the day as Lena instructs. Reclining, resting, and reading. Thorin is supposed to return tonight for evening meal. Whenever he promises an early arrival, Thorin means it. Rarely does he make promises he cannot keep.
As dinner is brought in, and the table is set, Thorin walks through the door. There is a bit of soot on his cheek like he’s been in the mines, and his cheeks are slightly flushed. When he notices you, he beams, and there is so much love there that you simply want to melt into a puddle on the floor.
“My love,” he says, moving toward you swiftly. The embrace nearly sweeps you off your feet. He plants a kiss on your forehead and draws back.
“You’re filthy,” you laugh, looking him over. Thorin has been in the mines.
Thorin shrugs sheepishly. “I had to help dig. Structural issues.”
“Wash your hands at least,” you playfully tease.
“Not interested in eating a bit of dirt?” he asks with a laugh.
“Go,” you giggle, pushing away from him.
Thorin disappears and you take a seat at the table. He reappears a few minutes later, face and hands clean. The clothes he wore before are also gone, replaced with simple, fresh attire. He takes a seat next to you, gaze darting over the spread.
“I’m starving,” you begin because it’s true even though you’ve been consistently snacking all day. “It’s like I’m eating for two.”
First hint dropped.
Thorin laughs, and the sound is sweet like honey cake. “I promise, love. You couldn’t eat for me. My appetite is insatiable.” When Thorin says insatiable, he pointedly glances at you with a heated stare.
You perfectly understand his meaning.
You attempt a different angle. “I’ve also been having the oddest cravings,” you say, starting to load your plate.
“What do you mean?” asks Thorin before he pops a chunk of bread into his mouth.
“Different foods. Things I’d never eat together otherwise.” It is common knowledge that pregnant women will often crave highly specific foods and food combinations.
But Thorin doesn’t appear to pick up on the hint. He frowns, then shrugs, continuing to eat without making a comment.
Sighing, you pick up one the freshly made rolls. “I think these buns need a bit more time in the oven.” You stare hard at Thorin, mentally sending message after message. “What do you think?”
Thorin glances up at you then down at his own plate that has five of them. “I think they’re perfect but if you’d like them more done, I’ll let the kitchen know in the morning.”
“Thorin,” you say flatly.
“Yes, my love?” His head slightly tilts, and his gaze becomes pointed. He’s starting to pick up on your agitation. You don’t mean to be cross, but you were hoping that he’d figure it out so you wouldn’t have to tell him outright.
Setting the roll down on your plate, you promptly divert the conversation to a different hint. “We’ve never talked about where we’d put the nursery.”
Thorin’s brow rises toward his hairline. “I didn’t think you wanted to discuss that until we crossed that hurdle?”
Does he hear himself? Does he understand the context of what’s coming out of his mouth?
“You’re right, Thorin. I didn’t want to discuss it until we needed to.” You repeat his words back to him, slightly leaning toward him as you speak to emphasize the point.
Still, it brushes right over his head.
“Some of the advisory council members have brought up financial concerns. Rebuilding Erebor is important but the needs of the people are pressing. Food. Proper housing.” Thorin begins slicing into the chunk of roast on his plate.
Maybe you are going to have to say it outright.
Licking your lips, you ignore Thorin’s change in conversation. “I did receive a few inquiries about baby clothes. Offers to knit a few items,” you shrug.
“That’s kind of them,” says Thorin slowly. “But why—” he pauses, “you’re not—"
Thorin’s features suddenly shift, becoming almost unreadable. His jovial expression is gone, replaced with a stern consideration.
Are you going to have to shout it at the top of your lungs?
Thorin’s lips part. Promptly shuts. Opens again. “Are you…” he begins but does not finish.
You start to nod, urging him on.
Finally, like light igniting in the dark, Thorin’s face transforms into one of shock, then pure joy.
“Truly?”
“Found out just this morning.”
Thorin abruptly stands, pushing himself and his chair away from the table. He is moving toward you, grasping your hands, bringing them to his mouth to kiss your fingers.
“Why not say anything?” he asks.
“I did,” you laugh. “Many times.”
Thorin momentarily frowns before his mouth turns up into a soft smile. “Clever.”
“You’ve been busy and I was unsure of how to tell you.”
Thorin’s thumbs rub little circles over your knuckles. “You can always tell me anything. Whatever is happening. Whatever is on your mind. I wish to hear it.” He kisses the tops of your hands. “Especially something like this.”
“Are you happy?” you ask, voice cracking at the end.
“Happiest I’ve ever been.”
Thorin pulls you up from your chair, his large, muscled arm sliding behind your waist. He drags you to him, his eyelids lowering seductively, all gentleness leaving him to be replaced with desire.
“Are you up for a bit of celebrating?” he asks.
“What kind of celebrating?”
“The kind that landed us here.”
“Thorin,” you gasp, lightly slapping his chest. He snatches your wrist, kisses the pulse point there.
“The food can wait,” and his voice ends on a soft growl.
“Thorin,” you repeat, this time with a rasp to your tone.
He seizes it, draws you even closer. “The food can wait?”
You nod. “It can wait.”
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goldfades · 5 months ago
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YOUR BEST FAN !!! ── NICHOLAS CHAVEZ
─ summary | only fans creator with nick, what could possibly happen? ─ warnings | NSFW under the cut. oral (m. receiving), heavy praise, really rough, there's a camera involved (i think i have a thing for cameras ngl), pretty much face-fucking
─ ev's notes ! | i wanna make this a series sooooo bad omfg. also!! I AM NOT TRYING TO GLORIFY OF OR ANYTHING LIKE THAT, pls this is just fictional
free palestine carrd 🇵🇸 decolonize palestine site 🇵🇸 how you can help palestine
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When you began dating Nick, you had just began your “business.” You honestly didn’t think much of it at the time—just a little side hustle to pay the your student loans and to have some extra cash for things that you liked. It wasn’t supposed to get this serious, and neither was he.
Nick was different from the start, though. Kind, caring, and completely unaware of the other side of your life. You liked it that way, at first. It was easier to keep things separate, to pretend like this secret world didn’t have to collide with his.
However, when you had realized you'd have to tell him before someone else did, it was too late. Nick had already found your secret Twitter account. You saw it in his eyes the moment he walked through the door—he knew. He didn’t have to say anything for you to feel the dread bubbling in your chest, the panic rising as you mentally prepared for the inevitable conversation.
The worst part? He recognized everything—the background, the subtle details of your room, and, of course, those familiar, sweet sounds you made when you thought no one was listening.
When he brought it up, his voice was calm but direct. “So... I found something interesting today.”
Your heart stopped. There it was. The moment you’d feared. You opened your mouth to speak, to explain, to do anything that might save this, but no words came out. You were certain he’d break up with you on the spot.
“Are you... mad?” You spoke, your voice shaky as you looked up at him. There was shame in your expression, and a little bit of anxiety, you couldn't believe he'd found it.
You thought it was done, over. Until Nick’s lips curved into a smug grin, one that caught you completely off guard.
“Mad?” Nick repeated, shaking his head as he kneeled in front of you. “No, baby. No, not at all.”
You blinked in disbelief, searching his face for any sign of anger or disappointment, but all you found was that same possessive glint in his eyes, the one that sent a thrill down your spine. He was calm, way too calm, and that only made your heart race faster.
“If anything,” Nick continued, his voice low and steady, “I think it’s kinda hot. Knowing they can all watch, but they can’t touch. Not like I do.” His hand slid up your thigh, making your breath hitch. “They can’t make you feel the way I do.”
You swallowed hard, still trying to process what was happening. This wasn’t the reaction you expected at all. In fact, it almost felt like he enjoyed the power of it, the idea that while others watched from a distance, he was the only one who truly knew you, who had you.
The iPhone flash was bright as you blinked, trying to adjust to the sudden light. You were in the car with Nick, driving home from a date night when he suggested the idea. “What if I joined you, in one of the videos?”
That was you ended up in the backseat, in between Nick's legs. The car was parked in an empty parking lot, and you really hoped that nobody was around. However, the thought of getting caught sent a nervous thrill down your spine.
“Look at me,” he instructed, his voice firm but laced with that same cocky confidence from earlier. The phone in his hand hovered just above your head, framing you perfectly in the shot.
Your heart raced as you met his eyes, a mix of nervous energy and excitement coursing through you. He had a way of making you feel completely exposed, and not just physically. This wasn’t like your usual videos—it was different. There was something about him behind the camera that made it feel so much more intimate.
“That’s it,” Nick murmured, shifting the angle slightly as his eyes flickered between the screen and you. “You look so good like this, baby. Don’t be shy.”
God, your pussy was soaked already. You couldn't help but let out a small moan as your hands reached up toward his thighs, gripping them tightly as your lips curved into a smile.
His thighs tensed under your grip as you leaned back against him, your body instinctively seeking the comfort of his touch. The intimacy of the moment—his presence, the weight of his gaze, the phone capturing everything—felt so much deeper than any other time you’d recorded.
You pulled down his shorts and boxers easily, and you heard him let out a satisfactory moan. You blinked up at the camera again, the smile still evident in your soft features. His cock was in frame now, it was mouth-watering to look at; his tip was leaking with pre-cum, the color was a deep shade of red.
Nick’s free hand found its way to your heads, his fingers curling into your hair, sending a shiver through you. “That’s my girl,” he praised softly, his voice a mix of admiration and possessiveness. “Go ahead, baby. Don't get all shy now,” he let out a dark chuckle as he pushed your head further down.
The feeling of his tip brushing against your lips made your stomach squeeze in anticipation. You opened your mouth, humming at the familiar taste of him as you blinked up at the camera. You could feel the heat pool between your legs as you took more of him in your mouth, his head falling back as he let out a sharp grunt.
The grip he had in your hair tightened as he pulled your head up and down, just how he liked it. You let out broken moans, muffled by his cock as your gripped his thighs. Your eyes were watering as his tip began hitting the back of your throat repeatedly, making you gag.
But Nick wasn't in the mood to be slow tonight, not at all. And you didn't mind one bit. “Fuck, yeah,” he groaned as he felt your moans vibrate against his cock. He moved the camera to get a closer look at your face—your makeup was all running, your hair was a mess.
And you still looked so fucking sexy.
The fact that you were doing this here, in the backseat of his car in an empty lot, only heightened the sensation for him. It felt risky, thrilling, and yet entirely safe with Nick.
He continued his assault on your throat, his moans echoing in the car before pulling you off abruptly. You opened your eyes, breathless as you gazed up at the camera. Your breath hitched when his hand slid from your hair to your jaw, tilting your face slightly toward the camera. The lower half of your face was completely covered in salivia and pre-cum, the sight almost orgasmic to Nick.
He let out a soft moan at that, before pushing you back onto his cock, continuing with the same brutal pace. His grip in your hair was almost too tight, it was almost painful but the sounds of his praise and moans kept you going.
“That’s it,” Nick grunted loudly, clearly satisfied, his voice growing even lower. “All fucking mine.”
With one last thrust into your warm mouth, Nick was spilling into your mouth as you moaned loudly against his cock. The taste was heavenly and you did your best to swallow all of it, savoring it. After a few seconds he pulled you off his cock, taking you in with all your glory.
Your eyes were red, your make-up was running down your fucked-out eyes, lips all red and wet, and your face was covered in saliva. He loved when you got sloppy, it was his favorite sight in the whole word.
Nick’s hand moved from your hair, fingers gently grazing your skin before settling on your cheeks, gripping them sightly. He tilted your face toward the camera with a deliberate touch, his thumb brushing your lips. “Give me that smile,” he murmured, his tone soft yet commanding.
You felt the heat rise in your chest, and despite the tension, a small smile tugged at your lips. Your eyes met his, locking onto the intensity of his gaze.
“That’s my pretty girl,” Nick whispered, his voice dropping into something even deeper, almost a growl. “All mine.”
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↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !
↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
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1d1195 · 2 months ago
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The Lottery III
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Read The Lottery here | ~4k words
From me: takes place during her second year in town. It's Christmas time 🎄
Warnings: fluffy
Summary: It's truly embarrassing how smitten Harry is with her.
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“Please, please, please!”
“No,” his voice was solid, flat, devoid of emotion. Impervious to her pleading it seemed.
She frowned and looked at him with a look that Harry assumed was supposed to be menacing. But it looked about as menacing as a baby bunny could be. “Harry Styles, people will think you’re The Grinch.”
“They already think that, Peach,” he rolled his eyes and moved to the next table check that the ketchup wasn’t completely depleted.
“Then I’ll think you’re The Grinch.”
That seemed to do something to his brain because he paused running around the diner. He looked at her with the same irritation that he always directed at her. The kind that made him annoyed because she wanted two different pancakes. Or that she didn’t wear the proper coat in the snow. Or that her tires needed to be replaced on her car, but she didn’t mind (refused to replace them) because she wasn’t driving very far these days and really, it wasn’t that big of a deal because it probably wasn’t going to snow in the remainder of that March.
Harry shook his head, remembering he was supposed to answer her. “Peach,” he sighed and rubbed his face. “I’ll look ridiculous.” There was no one else in the diner. It was nearly five in the morning. Much too early to have this conversation and even earlier to be having an argument.
But Harry thought she looked so cute. Cold but bright-eyed. “Well, that’s why I came now to ask. No one will know it’s you. We’ll park your car at my house, and you’ll tell everyone you have an appointment in the city. You’ll look unrecognizable.”
He stared at her for another moment before he turned to the coffee pot that he was brewing to make it cold for her. She was hours too early so it wouldn’t be cold. Her last pitcher was used up yesterday. Which only made him grumpier that he didn’t have what she liked. On top of being asked to do her ridiculous task. The silence was deafening. She smiled sweetly at him. “I’ll order regular pancakes for a week,” she offered.
He rolled his eyes. Maybe because he knew that he would still make her stupid pancakes and two omelets if she asked. “If anyone finds out s’me, I’ll tell them y’drugged me, Peach.”
“That’s very reasonable. While I’m asking for things, is it possible, I could borrow your oven for cookies and your coffee burners for hot chocolate?” She batted those pretty eyelashes at him, and he wondered just how obvious it was to her that he would do anything she asked of him.
“Y’know... I don’t do the whole town celebration thing,” he reminded her turning back to the coffee pot because if he looked at her any longer, he was going to tell her everything and this was not the time nor the place. She also wasn’t someone he wanted to know all his dark secrets. She was the one person that didn’t look at him with pity and he wanted that to remain true for as long as he could manage.
She frowned. “Well, I do,” which made next to no sense because at the time of asking she had only lived through one town Christmas—kind of. She wasn’t part of the traditions at all but somehow inserted herself into helping as much as she could. “No one will know it’s you,” she reminded him. “And I know you want to help,” she shrugged casually. “Can our pancake deal start tomorrow I’m desperate for peaches and white chocolate chips,” she dropped into her seat.
He didn’t answer, but he assumed she knew he was putty in her hands. “Coffee’s not cold yet,” he grumbled pouring her a hot cup.
“That’s okay, you don’t have to make me cold coffee anyway,” she shrugged and reached over the counter for the sugar and cream only for Harry to smack it away as was their own little tradition. “Oh!” She squealed and hopped out of her seat rushing out the front door as if she saw a ghost.
Harry blinked and hurried after her in case there was some kind of issue or if she saw something troublesome that would get her killed or kidnapped. Not that anything of the sort ever happened in their little town. But leave it to her to find something dangerous. “What—”
Her head was tilted nearly at a sharp forty-five-degree angle looking at the moon, dipping lower in the sky. Some of the stars were still out, and the sky was just starting to turn the slightest light blue. “Isn’t she pretty?” She sighed dreamily. Harry felt a warmth spread through his chest. The same kind that did any time she had him look at the moon. The awe, the fascination, the unadulterated innocence on her face made his heart skip a beat.
“Yeah, Peach, s’lovely,” he agreed and waited twenty seconds to let her stare. “S’cold out,” he reminded her because she of course didn’t put her coat back on for this expedition. Gently, he placed his hand on her lower back. “C’mon,” he encouraged. “I gotta make y’some pancakes.”
Harry swore she continued looking over her shoulder as he ushered her inside which just made him fall a little harder for her.
*
The day of the town’s Christmas festival Harry did what she said. He talked about his appointment in the city (that he didn’t have) all morning. When nearly everyone he ever knew was in town, he drove his car to her house where no one would notice it was there. He dressed in a red suit, and she drove him over in her own car dressed in an elf ensemble. Had Harry known she had a part to play he may have agreed a little faster. She was adorable, the shoes curled into a swirl at the toes, she was decked in red and green from head to toe and sure Santa was a symbol of Christmas but she was the near embodiment of it as well.
The second she stepped out of the car after all the little ones shouted excitedly for Santa, she pulled up the rear carrying a bag of candy canes over her shoulder.
“Miss Peach! You’re an elf too!?” Someone called when they realized the bookstore owner was in tow with Santa himself.
“You know Santa?!”
She giggled as Harry threw his voice and laughed at the little ones in awe over the pretty girl. They were right to be in awe. She was lovely. Making this happen. Picking someone certifiably Grinch-like. Yet he did it anyway.
“Santa’s sleigh is being fixed a couple towns over, so I picked him up and he was so grateful he agreed to come say hi to everyone! One of the elves gave me a costume to borrow for the day,” she explained. “Santa is going to see if he can get everything you all want, if you’ve been good.”
So, Harry took his seat on a chair that was much too poofy and frilly. It was set among a huge sack of mini presents, a mailbox for letters, and she dumped her bag of candy canes into a bucket. There were cookies and hot chocolate at the table beside the setup, run by her employees, curtesy of Harry’s oven and coffee maker. She stood beside Harry the whole afternoon as so many little ones came to tell Santa what they wanted.
What was worse was it was fun. Harry actually enjoyed being Santa. The little ones were so funny, and she was adorable dressed in her little get up. “Miss Peach,” one little boy whispered toward the end of their little event. He waved her over several yards away from Santa’s chair.
Naturally, she hurried over, leaving Harry with a pair of nine-year-old girls who wanted a lot of makeup and dolls. She greeted his parents who smiled knowingly at the cute bookstore owner with a little baby in a stroller beside the boy who waved her over.
“Is that the real Santa?” He asked gulping.
She smiled. “I got him off the sleigh and everything.”
He looked down nervously. She knew him from her story hours and going to the bookstore to do crafts related to the book of the week. “I’m kind of scared of Santa, Miss Peach,” he whispered.
“Oh,” she pouted. “There’s nothing to be scared of,” she whispered. “He’s very nice and just wants to know what you want for Christmas.”
“Will you go with me?” He asked.
She nodded and held his hand. “Hey Santa, Caden here is a little nervous,” she told Harry. Behind the hat, wig, glasses, a white beard and a firm pillow tucked into his shirt, it was next to impossible to know it was Harry.
How anyone couldn’t tell those pretty green eyes belonged to someone other than Harry was ridiculous to her, but whatever. She was eternally grateful he was doing this for her. Honestly, she couldn’t fathom why he would do it for her, but she wasn’t going to question it long enough for him to back out.
There was a kind smile beneath the white beard and mustache. One that she had only seen a handful of times. When it appeared on his face in the diner it was nearly always hidden from view—but every once in a while, she would see his pink lips turn up in a genuine smile. Happy over a joke someone made. Or how a little one told Miss Peach they had a crush on her.
She wondered if Caden knew how lucky they were to witness such a soft, beautiful sight. “S’that so?” He chuckled.
Caden tucked himself behind her leg and she bent to scoop the six-year-old into her arms. “Santa is a good friend of mine, he just wants to make sure you get what you want,” she assured him. “Do you want me to tell him?” She asked stepping closer toward Harry. He hid his face against her shoulder. Gently, she stroked the back of his head. “I used to be scared of Santa too,” she whispered. “But we’re friends now, right Santa?” She asked glancing over. Harry nodded, waiting patiently. Letting her do her thing. “Here,” she walked to Harry, wedged herself between Harry’s legs and perched on his thigh, stretching her own legs out so she wasn’t putting her full weight on his body. She sat Caden on her lap facing her and Harry.
Poor Caden looked like he was about to have a breakdown.
Harry knew what Caden was feeling almost at the exact same time. Other than a touch on her back or smacking her hand away, Harry hardly ever touched her. Now, her whole pretty butt was on his thigh. Had he known this would have happened, he wouldn’t have argued with her at all. She was so casual about it, as if she sat herself in his lap all the time. How was this not a moment in time that caused for absolute shock for her? Was he breathing? It felt like he couldn’t breathe.
“Hey,” she smiled sweetly, encouragingly. “I’m right here, tell us about what you want Santa to bring,” she ran a hand across his cheek. “Do you want... a Lego set?” She asked. He glanced up shyly at Santa and nodded. Harry smiled behind his beard reassuringly. “And a skateboard?” She continued guessing what a little boy his age would want. He nodded again. “And... a unicorn stuffie?” She smirked.
He frowned and shook his head. Which made the two of them laugh. “My sister likes unicorns, not me,” he told them. Harry nodded.
“So, a skateboard for you and a unicorn for—” Without missing a beat, Harry watched her mouth the name of the younger sibling. “Lily.”
“You know Lily?” He asked, pure wonder in his eyes. Staring up at Harry like he was the most amazing person in the world. Harry did think he was the Grinch because his heart truly melted and it was all thanks to the pretty, peachie girl.
“Santa knows everything,” she whispered. “Can you say thank you?”
“Thank you... Santa?” Caden asked, hopping down from her lap and turning bravely toward him. She stepped away from his legs which made him feel cold and grumpy again. But he remembered to stay focused on Caden.
“Yes, lad?” Caden ushered him closer waving his hand toward him. Harry leaned down further so Caden could whisper in his ear.
“Can you help me get a present for Miss Peach?”
Harry looked at her as she gathered a candy cane, a cookie, a present, and a cup of hot chocolate for Caden to take. “Absolutely.”
*
When Santa left, Harry magically returned with his car and headed to the diner to check on things. “You missed all the fun Harry,” she sighed stepping behind the counter and heading for the coffee pots filled with hot water for her hot chocolate stand. “I brought Santa in and everything.”
He narrowed his eyes at her and stuck his arm out to stop her. “Did he tell you he was bring y’coal?” he rolled his eyes and turned her physically by her shoulders before she reached the coffee pots. “Get out,” he said.
“Miss Peach getting coal?” Edith laughed. “Harry, don’t be ridiculous.”
She smiled, a knowing smirk on her lips. “Can I please have more hot water for hot chocolate?” She asked.
He sighed, like it was a big to do. But he did it anyway. She was getting really good at reading his eyes. She could see the slight amusement. Or what she hoped was amusement. Maybe it was just more annoyance, but the light shining a little differently in his irises. “I’ll keep it coming,” he shrugged and handed her two of the coffee pots.
“You are like Santa himself,” she grinned and carefully walked out with the hot liquid. Someone held the door for her and Harry headed to the kitchen, smirking once he was behind the cover of the wall away from the rest of the diner.
*
Christmas morning in a small town was unlike anything she had ever experienced. It was literally a Hallmark movie. There was a thin layer of snow on the ground. Against the lights it was the stuff of dreams. She walked through the quiet town, her second one in town but the first one she had ever spent away from her family.
“Peach?” Harry called. He was taking a bag out behind the diner to the trash. The door to the back was open to what she imagined was his apartment. She heard it was attached to the diner, but she had never seen beyond it.
She gave a wave and walked toward him. “Merry Christmas, Harry!” She chirped and dove in for a hug. Harry awkwardly wrapped his arms around her and despite his awkwardness, it felt like the best Christmas present he had ever received.
“Merry Christmas,” he hummed. “I thought y’were heading t’your family’s place for the holiday?”
“I did last year, but I thought I would try and start my own traditions. They’re going to be down this weekend actually.”
“Make sure y’bring them by,” he reminded her.
She smiled. “How about you? Any traditions?”
Traditions hadn’t been part of Harry’s vocabulary in ages. But Gemma was coming and that made him immensely happy. Well, as happy as someone as grumpy as he could be. “M’sister is coming around lunch time. I do a Christmas brunch, and a lot of people stop by.”
“Oh, that’s really lovely,” she grinned. “I’m sure you’re busy then and I don’t want to keep you. Have a happy—”
“You’re invited,” he practically blurted. She blinked, surprise coloring her pretty face.
But she recovered quickly and the smile on her mouth returned and made Harry think that even if he never touched her again, he could settle for a smile directed at her. “Really?” She asked. “I don’t want to mess with tradition.”
But that was far from the truth because she had already inserted herself into so many town projects and made the town so much better just by existing. Not to mention she got him to dress as Santa. Tradition flew out the window the moment she stepped foot in the diner.
“S’a whole town thing.”
“Well then, I really have to run because I cannot show up empty handed. Muffins or cupcakes?”
“Y’don’t have to—”
“I’ll make both unless you tell me.”
Harry rolled his eyes and her stubbornness. “Muffins, Peach. Thank you.”
“Christmas looks good on you, Santa,” she nodded. “You’ve got the best smile, Harry,” she waved and headed back the way she came.
*
Her mom always hosted parties and if she didn’t then it was a neighbor, Grandma, or aunt. She became a makeshift hostess and always tried to make herself useful. The second she walked into the diner she was greeted with cheers and Merry Christmases. Honestly, other than it being a holiday and the garland draped around the place, it was no different than walking into the diner any other day. She scurried to the counter where all the food was lining it, the warmers keeping the food hot, just waiting to be devoured. She could hear noise from the kitchen. Without thinking much longer, she stepped behind the counter, set her muffins toward the end of the line of food, and began gathering the plates and silverware to put at the beginning of the line.
The moment he heard clinking, he stepped from the kitchen. “What the he—”
“Oh hi,” she chirped over her shoulder. “Just making myself useful.”
“You’re not supposed to be behind the counter.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s Christmas and I’m helping.”
“I like her,” a woman stepped from behind the kitchen wall as well and smiled with a wave. “I’m Gemma,” she said. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas. Harry’s sister?”
“The one and only,” she had the same pretty smile that Harry did. She wondered who they inherited from. But the smile seemed much more natural on Gemma’s face than Harry’s.
“Peach,” he rubbed a hand over his face. “If y’get hurt, m’insurance doesn’t cover annoying pains in the butt.”
“What a nice thing to say on Christmas,” Gemma rolled her eyes. “How many times did you come back here when Mum told us not to?” Harry turned to the kitchen before he could answer.
She frowned. “I just wanted to help.”
“Don’t worry about it, Harry is just a grump,” she shrugged. “Thank you for the help,” she grinned sweetly. “I’m going to bring Mr. Sour out again but please make yourself at home,” she assured.
People chatted with Gemma for most of the time they ate. She helped Harry carry food out from the kitchen even though he grunted at her in annoyance each time she picked something up. She ignored him making a plate for both herself, and Harry. “Harry come eat,” she held the plates of food in her hands. “Everyone is good for the moment, and you deserve it,” she told him.
He sighed as he always did. Like talking to her was getting a splinter taken out of his hand. He grabbed the plates from her and walked toward the side of the diner where there were two seats open. “Miss Peach, these muffins are delicious!”
She grinned. “Thank you, an old family recipe,” she said sweetly and plucked a piece of bacon from her plate. Harry headed back to the kitchen and she pouted but he returned quickly holding a cup of coffee for her, cooled and iced as always. “Thank you.” Harry sat across from her eating silently, but it was comfortable. Peaceful even. The chatter around them was comforting. “You do this every year?” She asked. He nodded. “It’s nice, Harry, thank you for inviting me,” she grinned. He didn’t look up from his food, but he nodded again, and she was certain the corners of his mouth twitched in an upwards direction.
Harry was dressed in a pair of dark blue jeans and a dark green button down. It brought out the gold specks in his eyes and enhanced how green they were in general. It was her favorite look on him. Given he only seemed to have about six or so shirts in total. His hair was styled just so, so it wouldn’t fall in his face. “Let me get a picture of you and Gemma.”
“No,” he shook his head sipping his orange juice.
“Oh, come on, Harry. She’s your sister.”
He shook his head. “I don’t do pictures.”
She rolled her eyes. “Gemma, would you like a picture with Harry?” She called across the room.
“God, would I!” She hurried over and wrapped her arms around his neck from behind. She kissed the side of his face and he rolled his eyes but the smile was a little harder to hide that time around. She pulled her phone from her pocket and held it out to get a picture of the siblings.
“Say Merry Christmas!”
Harry smiled, genuinely. Which made her utterly happy. Gemma kissed his cheek again. “I love you, little brother.”
He shook his head as she hurried back to her conversation across the room. Harry cleared his throat and reached into his pocket pulling out a small box, wrapped perfectly, and slid it across the table toward her.
Of course, her gifts for everyone in town that had made her feel so welcomed were at her house. She planned on giving them out at the diner the following morning. Let the day be about family. So she was unprepared and felt terrible that she had nothing for Harry.
But she was also so shocked she simply gaped. “Harry,” she managed. “I don’t—”
“S’not a big deal,” he shrugged. “Caden... he wanted t’make sure y’got a gift. I asked him t’help me pick it out. Told him Santa left a note here since he knows y’here a lot,” he explained. “S’really from Caden.” But it wasn’t. Not really. It was from Harry. The grumpy diner owner who made her pancakes, gave her a hard time because she was a nuisance. “Go on,” he encouraged. She pulled the paper off, revealing a small brown box.
“Your gift is at home,” she told him.
“Y’didn’t need t’get me anything,” he rolled his eyes.
“Of course I did, Harry—”
“Will y’jus’ open it, Peach? Y’making it a huge deal and honestly, s’hardly anything.”
She opened the lid and inside was a square piece of cardboard. A delicate chain draped along the middle of it, holding the small crescent moon charm at the center of a pair of matching earrings. “Harry,” she brushed her finger on the charm. “This is too much,” she frowned knowing that he probably spent way too much on someone who was a pain in his ass.
“Y’do a lot for this town,” he shrugged. “S’the least Caden could do.”
She tilted her head at him. “Thank you,” she plucked the necklace off the cardboard and quickly secured it around her neck. Her ears already had Christmas presents jingling and dangling from the lobes, but the necklace looked delicate and pretty against the top of her shirt. “I’ll bring your gift tomorrow.”
“Whatever helps y’sleep at night, Peach. Y’want more food?” He asked standing and grabbing her plate at the same time.
She played with the charm at the base of her throat and nodded. “Please," she wondered if Harry was aware of how much she truly liked him. How sweet he really was despite the front he put up in front of everyone else. But she supposed for today, since it was Christmas, she would let him play his grumpy self and enjoy the thoughtful gift he bought for her and the yummy food he made.
She hoped this tradition would stick around every year.
--
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yuurei20 · 1 month ago
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I just finished the new chapter drop on EN and may I ask why Idia freaks out about Ortho (robot) calling him by name?
Doesn't everybody except Malleus call him Idia? When Ortho (robot) shows up in the dream world he even has this line "And why are you calling me Idia...?"
He doesn't know who Ortho (robot) is, right? So why WOULDN'T he be called Idia? Or am I missing something?
Hello hello! Thank you for this question! 💀🤖
This is just a theory, but I think maybe what has happened is this! ↓
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We know from Yana's interview that the story is complete and that she is not the only one who knows what is going on:
"The full main plot that I was to share with Disney seemed linear and uninteresting, so I submitted character details and sub-plots at the same time." - Toboso Yana (2023 Apple Store Interview)
But it is possible that Aniplex USA are not in the know 👀
The English-language translators can only work with what they have, and it's possible they haven't been told what points are going to be recurring, etc., so changes that they make to the localization that would be innocuous in any other situation are turning out to be important later on--and we have seen this before, also with Idia!
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Idia has a line of "Leave it to your big bro (nii-chan)," which is extremely important.
We see that he used to say it to human-Ortho when they were children, and it uses the nii-chan variation of "big brother," not robot-Ortho's "nii-san"!
Every time Idia says it, he is invoking human-ortho.
But it seems Aniplex USA might not have known this about the character until the same time as the rest of us: when they got to Book 6.
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As a result there are earlier instances (Book 5 and Ortho's ceremonial robes vignette) where Idia says his oft-repeated line and it was either rewritten or just removed entirely from EN.
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And this is possibly what has happened with Ortho's "nii-san"!
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While robot-Ortho has been programmed to refer to Idia as "nii-san" (and chooses to continue doing so for himself after Book 6), human-Ortho would use "nii-chan," in what seems like a throwaway character detail that is actually so important it was practically a plot point in Book 6.
More here:
That is what confuses Idia in Book 7! A humanoid he doesn't know has appeared calling him "nii-san," which no one has ever called him before.
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But Aniplex USA possibly didn't know how important this was going to be! Ortho was localized to say "Idia" every time he says "nii-san," so that is what this scene became: Idia wondering why someone is doing what everyone does (call him "Idia"), possibly making it seem odd that it bothers him.
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And unfortunately for the poor translators this just kept repeating in this chapter!
Originally Idia is confused by the three different entities all calling him "brother," but on EN he is just wondering why he is being called his name (which EN itself established as the status quo).
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And that is why it seems that Idia is confused by someone referring to him in the same way that most all the characters do ^^
This also seems to have happened with the "boom bada-boom boom boom--hah!" line on EN!
It is a direct homage to the original animated Hercules movie, but while it was recreated faithfully on EN for Book 7 it was changed to Book 6 into "AW YEAH! BOOYAH!"
Did Aniplex USA not realize that it was an homage to that specific line until they reached Book 7?
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It is possible that the translators don't know where the story is going and are just doing the best with what they have, ending up in curious situations like this as new content is released that compromises changes they have made, catching them by surprise!
And we have seen this happen before, with the word "imagination:"
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"Imagination" was removed from EN until Book 6, which is possibly when the translators realized that it was supposed to be important.
And it seems to be very, very important, to the point that it is possibly being set up as the key to defeating Malleus.
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In a line that was retained on EN Ortho explains to Malleus himself, "Magic is powered by imagination, so you can't manifest or defend against what you don't know."
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Silver suggests this about Malleus as well when wondering why it is that Malleus cannot interfere in Lilia's dream, and connecting it to how Lilia's dream is from before Malleus was born: "The source of magic is imagination. What if Malleus has trouble controlling things he doesn't know about and can't imagine...?"
And in the original game it is a concept that was established as early as Book 1!
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(I also wonder if that is what has happened with Ace and Epel having their dialogue changed from “Housewarden” to “Headmage.” Did Aniplex USA not know the significance of these two characters having issues with their housewardens, and decide on their own that Crowley made more sense?)
And this has just happened again with the newest chapter release on JP.
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In Trey’s dorm vignette he originally explains that when Riddle’s mother discovered him at her house, she lectured Trey’s entire family for five hours, in a scene that was faithfully recreated in the Heartslabyul manga. This history with Riddle was changed on EN to Trey getting lectured by his own family, instead.
Unfortunately for EN, this experience between Trey, his family and Riddle’s mother was just confirmed in the main story.
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He explains it happened when he and Chenya were 9 or 10 years old, with Cater providing the details that his mother scolded Trey’s family for five hours, as Cater was the person Trey was talking to in his vignette and he has already heard the story.
It will be interesting to see if EN attempts to change the characters’ backgrounds again to match the changes made to Trey’s vignette, or if they will be glossing over their own changes to stay accurate to the actual story.
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suiana · 11 months ago
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Yay!
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(yandere! sweetheart x gn! reader)
You've seen him around. Seen how he talks, how he acts. And you're certain of one thing.
He's not what he looks to be.
Others might say you're paranoid or something, say you're just jealous of him and how everyone seems to adore him. But you really aren't. You just... You're just scared of him.
You're sure of it. It's his whole vibe and aura. It fucking creeps you out and you just can't understand why no one else can feel that. But you suppose it's because he looks like just another guy who's awfully sweet.
His eyes, lips, they all tell a different story as compared to the eerie vibe he gives off. Normally the eyes would be able to tell if he was just acting but... Even his eyes show that he's just a sweetheart.
You've rethought your opinions on him several times. Maybe you're just mistaken. Perhaps you're thinking too much about it.
But no matter how hard you've tried to see him in a positive light, your stomach churns with an indescribable fear. And your gut has never once lied to you.
Which is why you're currently trying to leave this scary situation which your best friend has put you in. She had brought you out to eat for a hangout and out of nowhere, this guy popped out and your friend invited him to join you two without caring about your opinion. You really wanted to punt her after she did that.
Anyways, she's in the toilet right now which means that you're left alone with him.
You didn't know what to say. You honestly just wanted to avoid him if you could. But he seemed to have other ideas.
"So! What have you been up to? I've been volunteering and helping around town, planting flowers and accompanying old granny-"
You tune out his words, staring at him with a slightly unnerved expression. Shit, he really does look like your average cute guy who's just a sweetheart. You can't help but feel bad about ignoring him but... even now, you're on edge. How could this be? You don't even sense any malicious intent but you're worried?
"Hey! Are you not listening?"
You snap out of your daze, blinking several times as you gulp nervously.
"Ah... apologies. I was just... tired, yeah."
"Hm..."
He hums, still smiling at you as he props his hands on the table and rests his chin on them. You figut the urge to look away from him as he stares holes into your skull. Shit, when is your friend going to return? You can't handle this anymore...
"Say, darling, do I scare you that much?"
He suddenly mumbles, catching you off guard by the petname and his words. What? He knew that he scared you?
"I knew that you were different. That you could see something others couldn't. Which is why I was interested in the first place. But it really hurts me to see you blatantly ignoring me more and more each day."
He complains, pouting at you as he continues to stare straight into your soul. You feel a shiver run down your spine as your mouth runs dry. Wait what? What is going on? Why did he say that? He knew? Darling? Did he like you?! What the hell?
"You're really special to me. I really don't want you to be scared of me."
He reaches one of his hands out and places it above your trembling ones. He smiles warmly, though you can't help but feel chilled by the action. Damn boy! Stop! You don't like this!
"W-what are you-"
"I am completely in love with you. And I apologize about my... condition that has scared you."
He admits, cheeks flushed as he continues to stare at you, eyes unblinking. You have no response to him. Who knew that the town sweetheart that scared the shit out of you had fallen for you? And condition? Oh shit, was he like, a devil or something?
You gulp nervously, lower lip trembling as you freeze in your seat. Cold sweat decorates your forehead as you pray for your friend to hurry her ass up.
"Ah... I had planned to just take you, you know? But I don't want you to be too frightened of me... It hurts. Truly."
He sighs before removing his hand away from yours, looking at the direction in which your friend was walking from. Thank god! What was she even doing for so long?! She was gone for five full minutes, damn!
"Your friend is back, let's cheer up a bit, hm?"
He chuckles lightly, stirring his coffee as he finally breaks the prolonged eye contact which made you feel naked. Whew, finally that was over. You felt molested by him even though all he did was say some creepy shit.
But... condition. Hm... You'd need to do more research about him. Maybe then you could finally understand why you felt so unnderved by this guy.
And perhaps even try to get rid of the constant stress in your mind. Which would be him, obviously.
He seemed to know so much about you yet you know almost nothing about him. This was really not an optimal position for you.
"Haha! Did you see a ghost or something? You look scared as shit!"
Your friend jokes, taking her seat beside you as she goes back to eating her cake.
Yeah, she was right. You did just see a ghost. And this ghost was sitting right at the table together with you two.
Damn it, this was really the worst.
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