#word count: 887

[veilkeeper]

Emmrich's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Fear of Death

spoilers ahead! this is about the conversation with emmrich right after When Plans Align if you're romancing him.

(edit: please click this link for the extended version of this meta)

so that argument, huh? there's something so amazing, effervescent, and spectacular about a writer who knows there's something left on the table and they come back to it in a big way.

i talked about this in part one of my sacrifice of souls meta; about how while a decision re: emmrich's mortality had been made (one way or another), nothing had actually been done about his fear of death. and this is truly the perfect time for it to come back—it is the eve of battle against gods, and the likelihood of everyone making it back unscathed is low, to say the least. it absolutely makes sense that emmrich's fear of death is rearing its head now.

what's fascinating, of course, is that depending on which path he chose, the precise fear that he brings up changes. if he's human, he's afraid of his death. if he's a lich, he's afraid of yours.

big thanks to @/maxwellhousebrandcoffeefilter for providing me a clip of the argument when emmrich is still human, so that i can talk about both sides!! let's get into it.

Such Years Between Us

Even under the best circumstances, you will outlive me, Rook. You've... grown to mean much to me and... I care for you, Rook! Deeply. But there are such years between us, I shouldn't heap you with that burden.

this side of the argument is so interesting, because it actually has very little to do with the upcoming battle and is basically entirely about emmrich having to actually reckon with the fact that he's significantly older than rook for the first time. for so long in this romance i think he saw the lichdom as this like, beacon on the horizon. he didn't really think about the reality of getting involved with someone younger than him because he always had the option to become a lich. no getting older, no slowing down, no dying.

and now that it's no longer an option, he's stuck with it. he has to think about it. he loves rook, and as he says, there are realities to the circumstances of their relationship that need to be considered! the only difference is that... rook already did. at the beginning. which is when these types of concerns are usually addressed.

which of course is why this turns into a full argument when emmrich insinuates that it's rook who couldn't possibly understand his concerns about fairness "at their age."

i'm so, so, so happy that rook gets to call him out on this path, because frankly, it is wildly unfair to them, just not for the reason emmrich thinks. he's so concerned that it's unfair because they're going to have to mourn them, but he doesn't consider that maybe rook has already considered that, and bringing it up now is a dick move. they can point-blank ask if they're having this conversation "because you're worried about me, or insecure about you?" and it's so good.

Like a Thread of Diamond Flame

I can see the life course through you, my love. Like a thread of diamond flame. Yet... I will lose you to time, Rook. What if I can't bear that for eternity?

the argument with lich!emmrich actually is partially about the battle ahead.... because he opens with asking rook to stay back and not throw themselves head first into the fight. he's concerned for their safety, and seems to have forgotten that in a fight against gods, no one can afford to hold back.

man, i love it when i'm right. i knew he hadn't properly considered the consequences of lichdom, and i knew he wasn't prepared for rook to die. but seeing it said so plainly? absolutely delicious.

this answers my question of why he'd been "moping" around, as harding said. because he's been overthinking things and imagining the future where rook gets old and dies and he has to live on afterwards. i think the full impact of mourning manfred has hit him and he's realized that the depths of his feelings for rook are such that it will be so much worse when it's them. "I'm afraid I'll mourn you forever." not remember them, not love them. those were a given, guarantees he made before he ever even did his rites. but he's afraid he will mourn them forever, too. and that's... unimaginably heavy. a weight he hadn't considered, but should have.

the way this argument ends varies, including a path where you call him on overthinking and sabotaging his own happiness. but my favourite? when you tell him he can't act like this every time danger looms, and rook says "I'm not going to be afraid of dying just because you are." there's something so powerful in just that one line—it cuts right to the heart of the issue. this is about emmrich and his fears. nothing else.

my only complaint with this scene is there's no opportunity to call emmrich out on the fact that he should have thought about this before becoming a lich. of course, i knew that he hadn't—it was obvious he was rushing things so that he didn't have time to get cold feet, but i wish rook could say so. especially since it's been all my rook could think about since the jump.

[crunchystarz]

"Nightmare"

Leona Kingscholar x GN!Reader

Summary: In which Leona has a terrible nightmare regarding you but no worries you're there to comfort him

Cw- mentions of death in nightmare, angst, fluff, established relationship, One shot

Word count: 887

A.N: Wowza first non creepypasta work on this acc spare me (I'm still figuring this whole Tumblr thing out lol), also this is imported from my Google docs so the spacing might be a little weird

His heart pounded in his chest, like the crash of waves. The sound of blood rushing through his veins loud in his ears, drowning out all else. His body refused to move, as if something rooted him to the ground.

He stared at your lifeless body, his breath hitching in uneven gasps. Helplessness consumed him. He wanted to scream until he couldn't anymore , but the cry caught in his throat. He was frozen ,completely immobilized like a statue.

He had failed you. The thought tore through him sharp. Why hadn’t he been faster? Stronger? Smarter? His mind replayed every moment, every decision, desperately searching for the one that would have ended differently.

If only he’d been better, you’d still be here. You’d still be breathing, your chest rising and falling with life, those eyes he loved so dearly looking back at him.

His hands trembled as he reached for you, cradling your cold, unresponsive body. He hadn’t even realized he’d moved. Tears blurred his vision,throat tightened. It didn’t matter anymore not the pain in his knees, not the ache in his arms from holding you so tightly. Nothing mattered.

Why hadn’t it been him instead? He’d trade everything, it didn't matter what as long as he could hear your laugh one more time, to feel your warmth, to see you smile.

Leona jolted awake with a sharp gasp, his blankets tangled. Green eyes wide and darting around the room. His heart was racing. A hand dragged over his face, trying to ground himself as reality slowly bled back in.

It was a dream. Only a dream.

Just a dream Leona…

Yet the vividness of it lingered. He turned his gaze to the empty space beside him on the bed, and his breath hitched again.

“[Name]?” His voice, rough and strained, cracked as he called out. His ears twitched, and relief washed over him as he heard the soft sound of approaching footsteps.

Your footsteps

The door creaked open, and there you were, bathed in the faint morning light spilling through the window. "You're finally awake, morning sleepyhead," you said with a smile. Your voice was warm and laced with affection as you walked over to him.

Sevens did he love your voice.

Leona exhaled shakily, the weight on his chest easing slightly. But his body remained tense, his hands gripping the sheets.

You noticed how off he was immediately. “Leona?” Concern filled your voice as you sat down on the edge of the bed, your hands resting gently on his shoulders grounding him.

Before you could even say anything else, Leona moved. His arms shot out, wrapping around you and pulling you down onto the mattress with a forceful yet desperate urgency. You let out a yelp in surprise.

His grip was firm, almost crushing, as though he feared you’d disappear if he let go. You could feel the faint tremble in his frame, it made your heart ache.

“Leona?” you repeated softly, tilting your head to look at him. He didn’t answer, only burying his face in the crook of your neck. The steady rhythm of your heartbeat against his ear was the only thing he could focus on.

You were alive.

"What's going on?" you asked gently, your fingers threading through his hair and brushing behind his ears in a soothing gesture. "This isn't like you."

“Bad dream,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible. But the unease in his tone betrayed him. You frowned, concern deepening as you pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head.

"I'm here now," you whispered. "I'm not going anywhere."

You lay back against the pillow, letting him cling to you. Slowly, you matched your breathing to his, your chest rising and falling in a rhythm until his ragged breaths began to even out. Your hand moved in slow, comforting strokes along his back, and eventually, he calmed

You felt a vibration against your chest, followed by a deep, purring. It brought a small smile to your face. "You know," you teased lightly, "purring like that? Not very nonchalant housewarden of you."

"Shuddup," he muttered, his voice muffled as he pressed himself closer to you. You giggled softly, the sound making his heart leap. This time, the pounding in his chest wasn’t fear, it was just love.

He nuzzled his face deeper into the crook of your neck, inhaling the comforting scent of you. The memory of the nightmare still lingered, but it was dulled now, by your presence. You were here, alive and breathing, and that was enough for him.

After a moment, he pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you. His green eyes, usually half-lidded, were wide and searching, drinking in every detail of your face. He couldn't get enough.

Everything you. He loved each of your features,

everything. Because it was yours.

“I love you,” he said, the words escaping him before he could even registr what he was saying.

You smiled, the kind of smile that he'd do anything for just to see.

“I love you too.”

Leona pulled you closer, his arms tightening around you as his tail snaked in between your legs. For now, that was all he needed, just you, safe in his arms, your warmth calming him.

He was at peace. Calm and tangled in one another.

MASTERLIST

[intoxicated-chan]

Okay, so this is more on the soft angst side, but would you be willing to write a Miguel x F!Reader (or gender neutral if you’d prefer that) where Miguel visits Reader’s universe to check in on them since they haven’t visited the Spider Society headquarters for some time now, and he shows up at her apartment right as she’s in the middle of fixing up her wounds after a massive fight. And so he helps patch up her wounds, and after some intense eye contact between the two of them, they kiss (it should be noted that they’ve been pining over each other awhile now, but neither of them have said anything to the other).

And if it isn’t too much, I have these dialogue prompts you can add as well if you need anymore inspiration (you totally don’t have to use them, I just thought they’d fit perfectly with this scenario).

“Are you alright? Where are you hurt?”

“You don’t have to come over here and take care of me you know. I can clean up my own messes.”

“Can I stay? I'll take the couch.”

If this feels like too much, don’t hesitate to decline this ask! I’m just really excited 😅

I Need You to Stay

✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader

✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Miguel hasn’t heard from you in weeks, he wonders what’s keeping you so busy.

✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “Stay” by Ari Abdul. Thank you for the request Anon! I hope you enjoy it and are taking care of yourself. Have a wonderful day/night!

✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 887

✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, mention of violence, mentions of death, light angst, fluffy, blood, open wounds, light swearing…

Four weeks. It has been four weeks since Miguel last saw you. Normally, he wouldn’t be so worried, but it’s been four days. Usually, if you couldn’t make it, you’d talk to him through a screen but that hasn’t happened in the four weeks. Not a call, not a text, not even a simple message. Heck, even Lyla hasn’t heard anything from you.

Miguel sighs, “I can believe I’m saying this right now…” He looks at Peter B. “I’m putting you in charge until I get back.”

“Where are you going?” Peter B. asks.

“I haven’t heard anything from (Y/n) and Lyla can’t reach her. I’ll be back soon.”

Gwen pops up from behind Peter B.,“Can I join you?” She asks, pulling her hood up as she walks closer to Miguel, “I want to see the person who has Miguel O’Hara crushing on.”

“Excuse me?” Miguel cocks an eyebrow.

“You heard me!”

“No.” Walking away from Gwen.

“Why not?” And Gwen quickly follows.

“Because she could be in danger.” Miguel begins adjusting his gizmo to the correct universe.

“You saw me in action, I could help.” Gwen retorts.

“And I said…” A portal opens up, “No.” Then he disappeared and Gwen scoffed.

“I told you he wouldn’t listen.” Peter B. laughs with Mayday in his arms and Miles right beside him, laughing along.

Miguel lands on the rooftop of your apartment with a grunt. He takes a moment to look around and see if anything has changed, and something did. It was midnight in your universe and the lights to your apartment were still on.

He jumps down and easily clings onto the wall next to your window. With his other hand, he slowly slides your window open and slips in, closing it behind him.

“I know you’re here Miguel!” You call out from the other room, “Heard you since you landed on the roof.”

He chuckles as he walks towards the sound of your voice, “I shouldn’t be so surprised, your abilities have always impressed-” His eyes widen as he looks at you.

You sat at the table, bloody bandages on the table, cotton balls and fresh bandages. But the blood still dripping from the open wounds on your arm made his stomach churn, not in a good way.

He swallows thickly as he comes closer, taking your injured arm in his hand, “Who did this to you?” He growls.

“I took care of it.” You tell him, but it doesn’t stop him from worrying, “Nothing left but cuts and bruises… That will heal.” You try to sooth his worry.

“Are you alright? Where are you hurt?”

“You’re holding the only thing that’s hurting right now.”

Miguel uses his webbing to pull up another chair to sit. He grabs the disinfectant and pours some of his on a cotton ball, you hiss at the contact as he cleans up the blood.

“You don’t have to come over here and take care of me, you know. I can clean up my own messes.” You speak through gritted teeth as it still burns.

“...How strong were they?” He speaks through the awkwardness.

“It wasn’t because they were strong.” You admit, “I got carried away, distracted.”

“By what?”

“The bastard was wearing colors similar to yours. I thought it was you for a split second, and in the second, I was open for an attack and they took it… I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Grabbing the bandages and wrapping up your arm.

“Don’t you remember the first time you brought me on a mission with you. I got distracted.”

“Of course I remember, what kind of idiot throws themself in front of someone.” He looks over the bandages, making sure they’re on correctly and not too tight.

“I thought you were going to die that day, I thought if I could at least save Spider-Man, then for once I did something good in my life.” Your head hangs in shame.

“We cannot save everyone, no matter how hard we try.” Miguel huffs, “At least…” He cups your face, slowly lifting your head to look at him, “I got to save you.”

“Migu-”

“Can I stay?” He asks, “I’ll take the couch.”

“I’m fine, I don’t need someone looking after me.” You pick up the bloody cotton balls and bandages.

“You’re shaking.”

“My arm still hurts and the adrenaline is still pumping.” You lie.

“Please don’t lie to me, (Y/n). You know how much I hate liars.” He comes closer, “Tell me what’s got you so distracted.”

“Everything about you. From your stupid, lovely hair to you entirely.Which is why I stayed away, I didn’t want to be so distracted that I’d cause the team to fall apart.” He cups your face once more and closes the space between you two. His lips falling onto yours.

It made Miguel’s heart beat faster and faster, and for some reason, the pit in his stomach grew even more. But it disappeared when he felt your arms come around his neck, standing on your toes.

He pulls away, “Distracted now?”

“Very.” You mumble.

“Are you letting me stay the night or will we have to go to my place?”

“Are you sure you want to leave Peter in charge for any longer?”

Oh, shit. He forgot about him.

© 2023 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without permission.

[seventeenytiny]

Favorite Place to Cum - Stray Kids

Smut - MDNI

Word Count: 887 Warnings: Smut, marking, Skz are light doms, daddy kink with Lee Know, oral (male receiving) Author's Note: Someone else posted this exact same prompt recently but I promise that I had this in my drafts for a bit and it was purely coincidental that we posted around the same time :)

Bang Chan - Inside

He loves coming inside, why would he pull out when it feels so good to be inside you? He likes to have you at the edge of the bed, your legs wrapped around his waist while he pounds into you. He leans over your body, his broad shoulders protecting you from the world. Chan kisses your face before leaning towards your ear, "Gonna cum in that pretty pussy, okay love?" A simple nod is all he needs before he fills you up with his warm cum.

Lee Know - Face

He loves marking you and using his cum is one way he can do that. He's been fucking you all night, at this point he's already given you several mind-blowing orgasms. After you calm down from your previous high he pulls his cock out of you. "Do me a favor angel, get on your knees and clean off Daddy's cock." Wasting no time, you eagerly take his length into your mouth, using your hands to work what won't fit. His orgasm approaches rapidly, and he pulls out with little warning, painting your face white.

Changbin - Ass

Changbin loves everything a person can like about a good ass. He loves holding it, squeezing it, spanking it, and cumming on it. For these reasons, he often likes to fuck you from behind, he goes hard and fast, loving the way your ass slaps against his pelvis. After what felt like hours of fucking, he could feel his high approaching suddenly as his dick goes in and out of your dripping pussy. The wet sounds of him fucking you are ultimately what puts him over the edge. He pulls out right at the last second, jerking his cock as you feel hot cum spill onto your ass.

Hyunjin - Stomach

Hyunjin loooves panting your tummy white with his cum. He honestly just loves all parts of your body, but your stomach is simply a work of art. He's fucking you missionary, watching how your face contorts with pleasure and how your tits bounce with each thrust. Once he hears you cry out his name while your pussy clenches around his cock it's all over for him. He pulls out hastily, fisting his cock until his cum falls onto your stomach.

Han - Tits

This man loves tits, big or small he wants them all. He has you on your knees in front of him, his hands holding your hair back as you take his length into your mouth. A dildo that he suctioned cupped to the floor fills you nicely as you pleasure Jisung. You start to feel overstimulated, the pleasure from the toy is making it hard for you to focus with your mouth. Your high hits as you ride the toy, juices leaking out of you and spilling onto the floor as you finish Jisung off with your hands. Just the sight of you leaking onto the floor has Jisung cumming all over your chest, some of his cum hitting your chin and dripping to the floor.

Felix - Tits

Another man who is a big fan of tits. Imagine the two of you doing mutual masturbation, sitting across from each other on the bed as both of you focus on the other's body. The way you have your legs wide open in front of him is driving him insane. You take your fingers to spread your pussy for him, slipping a finger in your dripping hole. Felix grunts as he fists his hard cock, the wet sounds of your fingers fucking your pussy is music to his ears. He's going to cum fast and he's going to cum hard. Right before he orgasms he jumps up on top of your body, his legs straddling your torso. He pumps his cock as hot cum falls onto your tits, his eyes half closed from pleasure.

Seungmin - On your pussy

This man loves to pull out right at the very last second and cum right on your pussy. He loves how dominant it makes him feel, it's like he's marking your pussy as his. I imagine he'd like to have you right at the edge of the bed, your legs hanging off as he fucks into you. His thrusts have been fast and harsh all night, and your clit has been abused by him pinching and slapping it. You feel your second orgasm of the night take over you, wrapping your legs around his waist. The feeling of your pussy clenching around him triggers his orgasm as well, he pulls out as soon as the feeling hits. Ropes of his cum cover your pussy, slowly dripping down to the bed.

I.N - Lower back

I think Jeongin would really like fucking his partner doggy style. He loves how your ass slaps against his body with each thrust. Just the sounds that you make while he takes you from behind could have him cumming in an instant. Your moans are hard to muffle even with your face pushed into the bed, the amount of pleasure he is giving you is overwhelming. You cum around his cock, screaming his name, he can't hold back his high anymore at this point. He pulls out, and you feel the warmth of his cum as it coats your lower back, dripping down the side of your body.

[actually-safer-to-kiss]

Girlfriend Interrupted

Summary: Reader had a bad day at work and Spencer's complaints are not the best timing.

Couple: Spencer/Fem!Reader

Category: Hurt/comfort

Content warnings: Mentions of food, hunger, and prolonged time without eating

Word count: 887

The bus rumbles across the old asphalt and bricked crosswalks while hissing at stops. All you could do was lay your head against the window and try not to fall asleep or accidentally smash it into the glass after hitting a precarious pothole. You were three stops away from home and all you wanted to do was lock yourself in the apartment and gorge on the least healthy meal you could find. 

You had a healthy meal planned for lunch today actually; a salad filled to the nines (the nines being roasted chicken, nuts, pomegranate, and honeydew). It was perfect. So perfect in fact that someone stole it from the fridge when you were in the middle of beating a deadline. And even after being successful in that, your boss still found time to yell at you for something another co-worker did. You weren’t sure which one, but it wasn’t you. You’ve been nibbling on a granola bar on the ride, but your mind is occupied by the leftover lasagna in the fridge.

And you find it there, waiting for you under the stark refrigerator light. You yank it from the bottom shelf and don’t even consider looking at the microwave. You barely looked at the dishes you left in the sink after breakfast this morning and remember how behind you were when getting ready for work, telling yourself you’d put them in the dishwasher before Spencer got home. You did say you’d do that. And Spencer doesn’t like dishes in the sink.

 Instead, you grab the blanket from the back of the couch and settle in the dark, pulling up a YouTube video you’ve been meaning to watch. You rest your phone against the book spines Spencer had specifically picked out to be displayed for their guests (mainly your parents during the holidays and his co-workers). Most of them are about astronomy, nothing you’ve cared to pick up. They’re detailed enough to keep Spencer entertained and sturdy enough to keep your phone upright while you slurped up tomato sauce and ricotta cheese. And so you snuggled in like a kid watching Saturday cartoons, sugary cereal at the ready.

And it’s when you think of your boyfriend again that the door behind you opens with a creak. The thud of his cane echoes across the wood floor as that same door clicks as he shuts it. You manage to say “Hey, Spence” through your glorious mouthful of a rushed dinner. But Spencer says nothing back. He’s been struggling not just with his knee acting up again after his previous surgery, but with being unable to travel with his team. The thud of Spencer’s cane trails from the entryway to the kitchen. It was a tough day for both of you, no doubt.

Your sympathies started to wane though when Spencer interrupted your video.

“Ugh, Y/N. I told you I don’t like dishes in the sink.”

“I know.” You tried to say without a mouthful. “And I’m sorry. I was running late for work and needed to get going before—”

“And you left the fridge door open, too. We talked about needing to cut back before our lease renewal. The National Weather Service expects an uptick in accumulation by late December.”

You pause your video and turn in your seat. “Sorry, I was going to do it when I got home, but I needed to eat because someone stole—”

“And you’re eating the lasagna from the tray? We have clean bowls. You could easily grab one from—”

“Let me talk!” You ended up shouting. It was sudden for both of you. You’re never one to raise your voice and Spencer has never been one to fuck up bad enough to witness it. It forces Spencer to freeze in place, like that accumulation he talked about just rushed through the apartment on your command. It would be funny if it was some sort of command if you already weren’t teetering on the edge of tears. The sting in your nose already started traveling to your eyes. They welled up and Spencer quickly became a blur as you started to sob, the trials of a bad day finally getting to you. You let your chest heave and tears streak down your cheeks, hoping at least a portion of the stress will subside afterward.

You didn’t expect Spencer to be right next to you. You didn’t hear his cane once on the floor. It was against the arm of the couch. And he was on the floor, resting on his knees. Of course, you’re too distressed to point out that is the last thing he should be doing if he wants to avoid more surgery so badly. Plus he’s busy with taking the meal off of your lap. “Come here,” he tells you. He’s holding your hands. His hands are just as frigid as the lasagna. But he pulls you up as he tries to stand, meeting you on (somewhat) equal footing to bring you into a hug. It’s warm, obviously. All of his hugs are warm. He wears cotton-only cardigans and wears layers of clothes even at the peak of summer. “I’m sorry.” He says. “Just let it out. I’m here.”

“Spence. Your knee.”

“It’s fine.”

“You need to—”

“Be here. Which I am.” And he holds you tighter.

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Beautiful Stranger

(6) Oh, We're Dancing In My Living Room

Mommy!Wanda Maximoff x Beefy!Fem!Reader

Summary: It's time for you to celebrate your first Hanukkah and the boys to celebrate Christmas for the first time

Word Count: 887

Warnings: Pure fluff~

A/N: Happy Hanukkah and Merry Christmas! I've never celebrated Hanukkah so I hope I did it justice! If I got anything wrong please let me know so I can fix it!

December 7th, 2023Two weeks after Thanksgiving, the scent of fried potatoes and cinnamon lingered in the air as you celebrated your first night of Hanukkah with Wanda and the boys. The living room was cozy, lit by the soft glow of the menorah set on the windowsill. Billy sat snugly on your lap, giggling as you adjusted him to get comfortable, while Tommy stood beside Wanda, his eager little hands helping her steady the candle.

The room fell quiet as Wanda began reciting the blessing, her voice gentle and melodic. She paused between words, guiding Tommy through the unfamiliar phrases. You watched her with admiration, her patience shining through every syllable. It was one of the countless things you adored about her—how she could turn even the simplest moment into a gentle lesson filled with love. Billy’s little voice joined in, clear and perfect, mimicking Wanda with a confidence that made your heart swell.

When the blessing was finished, Wanda handed the boys their small gifts and a pouch of shiny chocolate gelt. The foil coins caught the light as the boys ripped into them excitedly.

“Oh, chocolate coins!” you exclaimed with a laugh, holding one up to inspect it. “I used to get these in my stocking every year!”

Tommy grinned, his excitement bubbling over. “Really? You had chocolate coins too?”

“Yup,” you said with a smile. “Looks like Hanukkah and Christmas have some things in common.” The boys beamed, clearly delighted by the connection.

As Wanda headed to the kitchen to prepare dinner, the boys taught you how to play dreidel. It took you a few rounds to catch on, but soon you were spinning the top like a pro—or so you thought. The boys, with their boundless energy and infectious laughter, kept winning, leaving you mock-pouting at your growing pile of lost gelt.

Just as you were about to snag a victory, Wanda’s voice floated in from the kitchen. “Come on, you three, dinner is ready!”

The boys whooped, grabbing their gelt and darting off, leaving you to sulk. Wanda met you at the doorway, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she leaned in for a kiss. “What’s got you all pouty, pretty girl?” she teased, her lips brushing against your cheek.

“They kept beating me, and I was finally about to win,” you said with a dramatic sigh, earning another kiss from her, this time on the corner of your mouth.

“Don’t worry, love. We’ve got seven more nights of this,” she reminded you, her smile coaxing one from you in return.

The dining table was a feast of golden roast chicken, crispy latkes, and an array of colorful side dishes. The boys chattered excitedly about their dreidel victories as you sat beside Wanda, sneaking glances at her and marveling at how lucky you were.

⋆꙳•❅°⋆❆.ೃ࿔:･*❆ ₊⋆

December 24-25, 2023The house was bathed in soft, twinkling lights, the Christmas tree standing proudly in the corner, its ornaments glinting in the glow. Wrapped gifts lay neatly beneath it, the fireplace crackling softly in the background. You could barely contain your excitement as you handed the boys matching plaid pajamas.

“Family Christmas pajamas!” you declared, grinning as Wanda shook her head fondly at your enthusiasm.

The boys were quick to change, giggling as they admired the bear graphics on their tops. Wanda’s shirt said “Mama,” yours read “Papa,” and the boys’ shirts proudly displayed “Little” above the bears.

“It’s perfect,” Wanda murmured, leaning into your side as you both sipped hot chocolate, her arm draped lazily over your waist.

The boys begged to open one gift each, their wide eyes and pleading voices impossible to resist. “Okay, just one,” you relented with a laugh.

They tore into their gifts, unwrapping Nerf guns and immediately launching into an impromptu battle, their laughter echoing through the house. As bedtime approached, you and Wanda helped them set out milk and cookies for Santa before tucking them in.

“Goodnight, boys,” Wanda whispered, pressing a kiss to each forehead.

“Goodnight, Mommy. Goodnight, Daddy,” they chorused, their voices sleepy but filled with happiness.

The next morning came early, the boys bounding into your room with uncontainable excitement. You carried your mugs of coffee to the living room, settling onto the couch beside Wanda as the boys dove into their presents. Wrapping paper flew in every direction, and their squeals of joy filled the room.

When only two gifts remained, you exchanged a look with Wanda, a shared smile of anticipation. “Alright, boys, these are from your mom and me,” you said, handing them each a box.

Tommy and Billy tore into the packages, their eyes lighting up as they revealed shiny Nintendo Switch Lites. They screamed in delight, throwing themselves at both of you in a flurry of hugs.

“Thank you, Mommy! Thank you, Daddy!” they shouted.

Wanda chuckled, ruffling their hair. “Now, let Daddy put the cases and screen protectors on them before you start playing.”

“Yes, Mommy!” they replied in unison before scurrying off to admire their new consoles.

The rest of the day was spent amidst the chaos of new toys, chocolate-stained fingers, and snow falling gently outside. You watched it all from the couch, Wanda nestled into your side, feeling like the luckiest person in the world.

It was, without a doubt, the perfect Christmas.

[insertfunkyusernamehere]

vessel's pre-venue jitters [nsfw - gn!reader]

-had to pause writing my lewis fic cause i listen to sleep token while i write and had a wicked idea pop into my head. now i can't stop thinking about vessel having mad anxiety before a show and the reader, who's also in the band, helping him calm down-

(i did not plan this out, i wrote it all on the spot, i just needed to get this out of my brain - i'm still prioritising my lewis fic)

word count: 887

cw: nsfw, swearing, sub!vessel, dom!reader, oral sex (m!recieving), reader's anatomy is not mentioned, no use of y/n, first fic posted! - author doesn't know what else to put here????

god i want him to mount me like thatfjsgtrwdsgvfyuiuh

you were a part of the band and served as a second guitarist next to iv, and you were always quite close to vessel - in ways that the others would always tease you about. although, you kept assuring them that there was nothing between you both, even when you used little petnames with each other.

you were searching for vessel right before a show to seek validation for a quirky idea you had about a little something you could do on stage. you never made rash decisions on the spot for fear you'd mess up the performance, very unlike the others.

you find vessel, still in one of the dressing rooms behind stage rather than getting ready to go out and perform.

you then notice that he's facing away from and has got his head against the wall, muttering small things to himself, and shaking slightly.

you approach to ask him what's wrong, to which he jumps a little, clearly not expecting you of all people to find him here.

"just... gimme a minute... get out there, i'll follow later..."

you're not having it. you make him sit down and notice the light sheen of sweat on his neck, which is already testing the integrity of the black body paint coating his skin. and he hasn't even done all his little dancey dances yet!

you ask him again what's up with him, kneeling down in front of him to appear less intimidating. he simply sighs. his shaky hands reach for yours, searching for that anchor to ground himself.

"just a bit nervous, love..." he mumbled as his hands interlocked with yours. "dunno why..."

you do your best to comfort him but none of your words seem to work, he always has a negative thought step in and frustratingly deflect your consolation with it's iron shield of self-deprecation.

as the time ticks quickly and you've now likely just less than 10 minutes before you have to go out on stage, and you definitely can't let him go out there like this. you need to release his tension somehow.

it's in this moment when you abandon your value of not making rash, on-the-spot decisions.

you slip your hands out from his, roll your mask up just above your nose, and begin make quick work of his belt, which ultimately made him panic a bit more.

"shit- w-what are you doing?!" he tried to stop you, but you simply swatted his hands away and began to shimmy his pants down his thighs.

you shushed him, telling him to just lay back and focus on the sensations. you assured him that you'd ease his nerves.

was it his fault that he trusted you?

he definitely goes commando under the costume, fucking fight me, i will die on this hill. he's also like 7-8 inches, yet you still believe you can take him all when you watch the length of it roll out like a red carpet.

you feasted on both his fat cock and the little moans you illicit out of him with stripe you lick up his long shaft, enticed as you witness him go from soft to rock hard after mere moments of you touching him.

your hand rested on his thigh while your other was tenderly fondling his balls as you suckled on his swollen, leaky tip. it was a struggle for him to keep quiet, who knows who could be lurking outside the unlocked door of the dressing room.

he could probably pass it off as him practicing his vocals should anyone have heard him.

his hand came up to nest on top of your head, gripping at the fabric of your mask as you slowly begin to take an inch of him into your mouth.

he struggles not to buck up and fuck the ever-living shit out of your throat.

you make quick work of him, taking as much of him in as you can, wasting no time in sucking him off. he softly whimpers out your name.

he finishes quickly with a loud stifled moan, you made it hard for him not to when you're bobbing up and down on his length like that, your tongue flattened, and your cheeks hollowed to optimise his pleasure.

he shoots his fat load deep down your throat, you swallow it all gratefully. your mouth pops off his cock, which is beginning to soften as he pants. he's certainly a lot calmer now.

however, he doesn't know if he could look at you the same while performing without getting hard again.

you may have eased his nerves but what have you done to his mind?

he tucks himself back into his pants, you pull your mask back down over the bottom half of your face, and you both leave the dressing room without uttering any words to each other.

vessel has a bit of a haze clouding his head while you regroup with the rest of the band, who are definitely smirking at you both for being gone until last second.

"you two snogging back there, or what?" iii teased you, making ii and iv giggle.

vessel was a little embarrassed, but he ignored it, finding comfort in the fact that they didn't exactly know what it was that you two were doing.

you simply told them to get fucked as you all began to flood onto stage.

hey, hoped you enjoyed this! i haven't read it over, i wrote it all on the spot and am now posting it. please let me know if you have any icks or recommendations on how to make this better!

thank you for reading!

-leo :3

[faith-forgxtten-land]

That smut you wrote for Donnie was so good OMFG do you think you could write something for 2007 Leo (if you write for them IDK if you do) where Reader is giving him a blowjob? 👉👈 

Mouthful | Leonardo

i definitely write for 2007! in fact, please send me more 2007 asks, i'm actually kind of obsessed at the moment because i rewatched it the other day and this ask kind of got me out of a writing slump, so thank you very much anon. also, i took 'blowjob' and made it more face-fucking because i felt like it... hope you don't mind! enjoy!

warnings: NSFW (not proofread, read at your own risk), slight choking? face-fucking, bruises, degradation etc. it's just a bit filthy guys. mentions of pussy for reader, awful title but i was blanking so bad so don't judge. everyone is 18+!!

summary: leonardo is a mouthful

word count: 887, pretty short

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Your knees are aching, you can feel the bruises already blossoming like petals blooming, but you don’t dare move, not even to reposition yourself as Leo fucks your face harder. He’s not being gentle or loving tonight, not after you spent the entire evening teasing him, and you can’t help the way it makes your stomach clench and your pussy leak.

You groan drunkenly around his cock as he pumps it over and over into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat with ease, then fucking down beyond. It's not possible, you know it isn't, but it feels a bit like he's fucking deep enough to puncture your lungs and the thought only makes you wetter. A whine that sounds more like a breathless wheeze escapes you as his hand wraps around your neck and he pistons his hips rougher and somehow even deeper.

Vision blurry with both pleasure and ecstasy, you moan something; it might be his name or a wordless plea, you’re not quite sure, but it makes Leo growl darkly as he tangles his fingers in your hair and pushes you further down on his cock until your face is pressed harshly against his plastron and his sweat drips onto your skin. It’s filthy and not particularly comfortable, but you’re too far gone to care. You’d take anything he’d give you with a smile and a thank you, although your smile might be drunk and your words might be nothing more than slurs at this point.

“Please, Leo,” you say as best you can around his cock, heavy and thick and taking up all the space in your throat. "L-Leonardo." It’s the biggest you’ve ever taken or ever will take, bordering on too big, but that just makes you need it more. It’s so perfect, you think dazedly. You might whimper it out loud, too, judging from Leo’s tightening grip that burns your scalp. You feel dizzy, like you’re about to keel over even from where you’re kneeling.

“What was that?” He asks, face taut and jaw clenched as he holds himself back from pumping load after load before he’s through with you. “I couldn’t quite make it out.”

It's humiliating and tears are gathering on your lashes like diamonds, stinging and sharp, before rolling down your flushed cheeks. “Please,” you beg again and this time Leo barks a cruel laugh at how broken you sound, please sounding more like wheezing gibberish, the word unable to form from where he’s got his cock blocking your airway.

“You’re such a good slut,” he coos, hand squeezing tighter around your throat. He curses loudly as you whine in agreement, grasping firmly and feeling his length inside you. He can’t help himself as he fucks your face faster, using your mouth like a fuck toy, praise and degradation in equal measure pouring from his lips in tandem with the slap, slap, slap of your face against his keratin. “You’re so fucking good for me,” he snarls, hand still gripping your neck in a way you know will leave impossible to hide, three-fingered bruises. “So fucking dirty, such a perfect mouth for me to use.”

Your moan is loud even with his cock still deep within your throat and that’s what it takes for him to come undone. He doesn’t pull back, doesn’t grant you the slightest hint of reprieve as he spills thread after thread, filling you up until you feel like you're drowning. “Swallow it,” he gasps. “All of it.”

You try to do as you asks, desperate to please him even in such a pathetic state, and you almost manage. It’s impossible to swallow it all, and you cough as he pulls his softening cock out of your throat with an obscene squelch that ignites a modicum of embarrassment in the depths of your mind.

Leo, as smug as ever even as he pants like he's run a marathon, runs a finger across your mouth and down your chin with a self-satisfied smile, gathering what come you couldn’t keep down and pushing it back past your lips. “Come on,” he murmurs softly, and you let your mouth fall open, watching him with hazy eyes as you work instinctively to clean up every last drop he’s willing to give you.

He might be a conceited bastard, but he’s looking at you with so much love and affection, even after fucking your face with abandon, when you know you look like a drooling mess, and it turns your limbs to jelly. You sag against him and your breath catches as his smile turns soft and gooey and that hand still around your throat slackens into a reverent caress. “I love you.”

The moment doesn’t last long; his dark eyes darken further, traces of honeyed endearment melting as you try to speak. Your voice is wrecked. “I love you too,” you croak, and before you can blink you’re on your back and Leo’s there, strong and imperious above you, clouding your vision and blocking out everything but him.

You giggle deliriously as his teeth sink into the column of your throat, right over one of those already flowering bruises, and you make a mental note to call in sick tomorrow because there is absolutely no way you’ll be able to walk when Leo is finished with you.

[alluramiura]

se-mi nsfw alphabet <3

word count: 887 words

warnings: lowercase intended, afab reader

authors note: as requested, here’s the se-mi nsfw alphabet. this isn’t proof read, sorry if there’s mistakes. enjoy

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

se-mi‘s aftercare is a huge contrast to how she is during sex. her aftercare is very sweet, a side of her only you’d ever see. she’d tell you how good you were for her, whispering her favorite parts of your session while peppering soft kisses all over your body. after you two wash up, she prefers you two sleep without clothes on so she can feel the warmth of your body.

B = Body part (favorite body part on themself and their partner)

not so much about the actual body part, but she loves her lip piercing. when she first got it and couldn’t eat you out for a little, she was devastated. best believe she gave you the head of your life after it healed.

on you, she loves your thighs. she loves how it feels when they wrap around her shoulders as she eats you out, her nails slightly digging into them as she holds them in place, devouring you and savoring your taste.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum)

she fucking loves the taste of your cum. she’ll find herself randomly craving it throughout the day, as if it were a meal.

D = Dirty secret (dirty secret of theirs)

she gets off sooo good to the thought of recording you during sex. not to show to anyone else, of course not, but because she thinks you’re so beautiful when she’s fucking you and you’re cumming for her. she’ll use that cutesy little digi-cam you have to take pictures of you, later saving them for when she masturbates.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

whew, you cannot tell me this woman wasn’t the biggest player around at some point. she changed eventually a little after college when she met you, because once she fell for you she didn’t wanna fuck anyone that wasn’t you.

but yeah. this girl’s hella experienced. she does not disappoint.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

any position where she can see your tits bounce. other than that (she especially loves when you ride her), she also really loves doggy-style.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous?)

the only time she laughs during sex is when she mocks how pathetic your whines sound. even then, it’s more of a low taunting chuckle.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes?)

i think she shaves about once every month. not completely though, since i don’t think she really cares enough.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

she can be romantic and slow paced, but in her eyes sex can be intimate even if it’s not slow or sensual. the difference between you and the one night stands she used to do is that she loves you, inside and out, adores every little thing about you. that’s what makes it intimate to her, she’s never felt this for anyone else.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

like i mentioned earlier, when you’re away she uses the pictures of you she takes during sex to masturbate to. she’ll watch the videos she took of her pounding into you, timing her fingers so that she cums the same time as you do in the video.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

overstimulation, blindfolding, dacryphilia, somnophilia, humiliation

L = Location (favorite place to have sex)

she’ll fuck you anywhere if no one can see or hear you, but her favorite place is the bedroom since it opens way more options on what to do to you.

M = Motivation (what turns them on?)

honestly, it could be as simple as you looking at her a certain way and she’d get turned on. sometimes just being around you turns her on.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

something she’d never do is share you, in any way. she’s the only one who can see you in such states, which is why when she fucks you in places that aren’t in your home there has to be a 100% chance no one can walk in or hear.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving)

she. fucking loves. to eat you out. she’d lay there and eat you out all night if she could. she doesn’t stop until you’re squealing that you can’t take anymore, your fingers curling around handfuls of her hair tightly, and your thighs pressing against the sides of her head.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual?)

she’s fast and rough, but she doesn’t mind going slow sometimes. you would just have to let her know beforehand since her default in sex is to pound into you roughly.

Q = Quickies (their opinions on quickies)

she’s always down for a quickie, because she’s always down for sex in general, but she does prefer being able to take her time with you, since she usually goes for a while.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks?)

she’ll experiment, even the things that seem very harsh on you. if you’re into that, who is she to deny you of your needs?

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

3 rounds usually, but god do they last long.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

she’s bought toys for you before, but they’re rarely used during actual sex until it’s handcuffs on blindfolds.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

sometimes, she likes to be cruel and tease you for the hell of it. she sometimes edges you unexpectedly, as well as sometimes overstimulates you unexpectedly.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what kind of sounds they make)

she’s not loud, but you can definitely hear her. though she’s not ashamed to let out any particularly loud moans if she needs to.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

while her lip piercing was healing and she couldn’t eat you out, she’d settle for fingering you and licking your cum off her fingers afterwards. still wasn’t as good as direct head though.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

A cup tits, nipple piercings. i repeat, nipple piercings.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

her sex drive is high. the only times you go more than 2 days without fucking is when you’re away, and those days are torture for her.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

as i mentioned, she falls asleep pretty quickly when she’s cuddling you bare, your warmth very comforting to her. if you’re not naked though, it’ll take probably 10 minutes.

[hywonuka]

future is gonna be okay | hnk

Sypnosis: Sometimes all you need is to be taken care of, even if you don’t know it. But that’s not a problem to your boyfriend Hueningkai, who knows you even better than you know yourself

Genre: stabilised relationship, fluff

Warning: mention of depression

Word count: 887

“You still up?” Your boyfriend asked, as he approached you, sat on the living room couch. Hueningkai had been out the whole afternoon, hanging out with his friends, when he arrived back home and found you at the verge of crying on the couch.

You just looked at him and shrugged, trying to contain your tears. He was looking so preoccupied, getting closer to you. He leaned on and pressed a soft kiss on your forehead, caressing your hair. “Have you eaten anything?” As he felt your slight shake of head, he kissed your forehead again, his fingers travelling from your hair to your cheeks, which made him hold your face, stroking your cheeks. "I’m gonna prepare you something to eat then, okay?”

You nodded, as Hueningkai slowly separated his lips from your forehead, making his way to the kitchen. After what seemed like an eternity, you got up from the couch and walked to the kitchen, only to find your boyfriend preparing a sandwich for you. But it wasn’t just a simple sandwich. It was the food you always craved when you didn’t feel like eating but still had to eat.

“Hey, did I tell you to follow me here?” The tall one asks, chuckling, as he hands you your dinner. “I know you rarely eat dessert, but any cravings?”

“Uh… Have you bought tangerines?”

“Actually, yeah, I have. Want one?” You nod, as you start slowly eating your sandwich. Hueningkai smiles at you, as he takes one tangerine and starts peeling it for you. You watch as he carefully peels it, his hands carefully preparing the tangerine just as you like eating it.

Once he is done, he smiles at you and gives you the peeled tangerine, as he starts cleaning your dirty dishes. You finish eating when he finishes cleaning, and both of you sit on the table, looking at each other but saying nothing at all, but it is not an awkward silence. In fact, you feel comfortable with it. He suddenly held your hand, intertwined fingers with yours.

“Wanna talk?”

“Not really”

“Let’s go watch Pride and Prejudice then”

In the eyes of anyone else, that would seem stupid. You are going through something, and he proposes watching a film?? But it wasn’t a normal film. It was your comfort film, the one you have watched countless times whenever you felt sad or overwhelmed.

He guided you to the living room, making you sit on his lap as he turned on TV, hugging you by your waist and pulling you closer to him. You rested your head in his shoulder, as he soothed you, by caressing your back. You felt like you were in heaven.

As the film went by, you could feel his eyes on you, waiting for you to speak up and tell him how you are feeling, but he doesn’t ask. You know he is giving you your time, because he knows that, once you feel like talking about it, you will go to him.

“Am I doing things the right way?” You suddenly ask, when the film is about to come to an end.

Hueningkai looks at you, his hands bringing you closer to him, so you can rest on his chest. He caresses your hair, before speaking softly to you. “Why are you asking that?

“It’s just… I see everyone else accomplishing stuff in their life, reaching their goals, and I’m just… stuck”

“You know it’s not your fault, right?”

You knew what he was talking about. Last year, you went through a tough time due to a depressive episode, that made you have to stop everything. Your whole life came into a pause, because you couldn’t take everything that was going on in your life. You lost your job, and huge work opportunities. You lost friends, who couldn’t understand why you suddenly drifted away from them. But mostly, you lost yourself, your spark.

But Hueningkai was always there for you.

He was there when you woke up in the middle of the night, crying. He was there when everything was too much for you and couldn’t stand it. He was there for you when no one else was.

You even felt bad for him. He didn’t have to deal with all of these, with you. But he did.

“You are making so much progress, even if you don’t notice… It’s normal feeling like this, no one ever said healing was supposed to be easy” He said, looking directly at your eyes, his glare fond and loving. “I’m so proud of you”

You wrap your arms around his neck and hug him tightly. He hugs you back, kissing your face as he plays with your hair. You feel safe there, in his arms.

“And you are not alone in this, never forget it. I know i can’t do that much, this is a battle against your own mind, but I’ll do everything that i can to make you feel like you can win this. You have come so far, it’s incredible”

You can feel the tears falling from your eyes, as you grasp his tshirt. He lifts you up, and caresses your cheeks, while giving a small kiss to your nose.

“Cry all you want, my love. I’m here for you. I got you”

“Future is gonna be okay, remember”

A/N: a little hyuka drabble i did while writing the next wonwoo fic chapter :3 i was feeling pretty down yesterday night, and writing has been helping me feeling better these days… if you are going through something similar, my dms are always open🫶🏻

[sheerfreesia007]

All In The Details

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader

Word count: 887

Content warnings: Fluff, mention of crime scene photos, mention of homicide (no details)

Summary: Hyunjin is having a difficult time with his homicide case and has hit a dead end on every lead. Can his beautiful detail orientated wife help him make a breakthrough on the case?

Part One: Photographic Evidence

His office is quiet as he stands at his desk littered with crime scene photos from the homicide earlier this week. He’s hit a dead end on most of his findings and has been growing more frustrated with each passing day. The fact that he can’t figure out a good lead from everything that he’s discovered makes his skin itch with irritation and his teeth grind harshly.

He stands at his desk with his left hand placed firmly against the desktop while holding one of the crime scene photos in his right hand. Sighing loudly his eyes rake over the picture and try to make sense of any of it. He then turns to stare at the large white board behind him with all of his notes and connections written out on the board.

He’s so engrossed in his work that he doesn’t hear you opening his office door and walking into his office. You’re engrossed in your own work as you look down at the tablet in your hand while you carefully cradle a large Manila envelope in your other arm. When you don’t hear him greet you you frown and look up from the tablet only to find him facing his whiteboard with a look of distress on his face. 

Sighing softly as you move over to him, you knew this case had been giving him trouble ever since he showed up to it as the lead Homicide detective. You’ve tried to keep your distance and just supported him in any way that you could since you understood how he tended to work on his cases. But as you move over to his side you look down at his desk and spot the pictures that you had taken of the crime scene mixed with the pictures of your forensic coworkers had taken and you furrow your brow slightly before turning to look over your husband’s shoulder at the picture he was holding.

You place your tablet down on his desk along with the large envelope you had brought for him that held more photos of the crime scene before you slipped your arms around his waist and pressed your front against his back.

”Are you alright?” You asked softly and he hummed frustratedly before leaning back into your arms.

”Just frustrated. Everything is a dead end right now.” He said distractedly as you nodded your head against his shoulder as your eyes peered over his shoulder. When you noticed the picture in his hand you frowned softly before turning back to his desk finding one similar to the one in his hand. You tilt your head to the side before your eyes slip down to the printed date and time stamp at the bottom.

”Hey babe, look.” You said bewildered as you held up the photo that you were gazing at before looking over your shoulder at him. He had turned to you curiously before his eyes widened at the picture you held before snapping his head to stare at his own picture.

Moving to your side he turned his head from picture to picture as his eyebrows furrowed confused. The pictures were eerily similar except for the placement of the small statue in the middle of the picture. “I took these photos when I arrived at the scene.” You began to explain to him as you pointed to the picture you held before nodding the picture he held. “Those were taken by my coworker when she arrived.” 

“They’re different.” He said softly and you nodded your head in confirmation.

”The statue has been moved.” You said softly and Hyunjin frowned darkly as he studied both pictures before nodding his head. The realization that his crime scene had been compromised fell on him like a ton of bricks and he quickly grabbed his desk phone and made a call to the records department.

”Hi, this is Detective Hwang in homicide. Can I get a copy of the crime scene personnel log sheet for case number twenty five dash one, four, three, five? Thank you.” He said into the phone before hanging it up and turning back to you with an adoring look on his face. He suddenly lunged forward and cupped your face wantonly before pressing his lips to yours hungrily. You squeaked softly at his actions but easily melted into the kiss as he slanted his lips against yours with a passion that was unmatched. “If I could kiss that beautiful detail orientated brain of yours I would. But your lips will have to suffice.” He teased softly and you scoffed at his loving words before smirking softly at him as you gazed up at him enchanted.

”Whatever will I do?” You teased back softly and Hyunjin smirked down at you before capturing your lips once more with his as he backed you up against his desk to cage you in his arms and against his body.

”Just accept your fate.” He whispered as his eyes stared down at you heatedly before dipping his head back down for another kiss. He knew he was going to have a hell of a time with the compromise of his crime scene but for the moment he felt that he should praise the woman of his dreams for using that beautiful brain of hers to help him.

SKZ Taglist: @intartaruginha, @kayleefriedchicken, @babigriin, @simpforleeknaur, @inlovewithstraykids

@channiesrightasscheek

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

Please Love Me- Bucky x Stark!Reader

A/N: I didn’t mean for this to be so angst filled 😅

Summary: Bucky looks after you after a bad fight with you dad Tony Stark

Word count: 887 words

“He doesn’t care about you! All he’s gonna do is treat you like a housewife and an idiot! He’s a bad person and he doesn’t love y-“ You cut your father off with a slap across his face. You can take a lot from the man before you, but saying Bucky didn’t love you was too far.

“Wow guess he’s already rubbed off on you.” Tony glared at you.

“Yeh he has. Don’t you dare ever say that he doesn’t love me. He treats me with more respect and kindness then you do. You can just fuck off!” You glare right back at him.

The tears that brimmed in your eyes began fall as you stormed out of the lab, needing desperately to get away.

“If you go to that murderer tonight, don’t think of coming back.” He called after you.

This made you stop in your tracks. You and Tony had fought before, it was only natural, but he had never told you that you weren’t welcome. In that moment you knew where you’d be most safe and loved.

“I guess I’ll have to pack a pretty big bag than.” You declare.

Your voice shaking and tears run down your face as you look into your dads eyes, but you keep your head high, refusing to seem weak in this moment.

With that last comment you turn and leave quickly, before he can get another word in.

By the time you get to your room, your eyes are so full of tears you can barely see your phone as you text Bucky. You couldn’t be here anymore and you knew he’d be there for you.

Packing as much into a large duffle bag as you can, you wait for Bucky to text you that he’s there. You choked down your sobs as you began to pack away your life into the bag. This was the hardest decision you’ve ever had to make but you knew it was for the best.

As soon as you zipped the large duffle closed, you got a text from Bucky saying he was there. Throwing the large bag over your shoulder, you make your way down to the street below.

“What’s happened, doll?” Bucky asked sweetly, as he gently cupped your cheeks.

“I don’t want to talk about it just yet. Please just take me home.” You sob as you push your face into his hand.

“Okay, baby. Hop on and I’ll take care of you.” Bucky comforted, sweetly kissing your lips as he hands you a helmet.

Straddling his bike, you tightly wrap your arms around his torso with your head pushed into his back. The tears blinded you as your grip around him tightened the whole ride, and your body shook.

**********

Finally arriving at his apartment, you push him against the wall in a heated and desperate kiss. A need to feel him and have him love you coursing through your veins.

“Baby, while I love this, you still need to talk to me about what happened.” He told you worriedly. Gently cupping your face he looked into your eyes with love and softness.

That very look in his eyes had you breaking into tears once again.

“Please just love me, Bucky. I’ll tell you everything later but please just love me for now.” You beg him, staring up into his sweet eyes.

Staring down at you with a mix of sadness and love in his eyes, he leant down and picked you up from the backs of your thighs. Smiling into his neck, you began to kiss and nip at the sensitive skin there.

Sitting you both down on the couch together, his hands went to your ass, as you dug your fingers into his hair, pulling him in for a heated kiss. As the kiss gained momentum and became a mix of heated licking and biting, you began to grind down onto his lap, causing him to moan into the kiss.

“Ooohh, princess, you keep moving your gorgeous hips just like that.” He moaned into your neck as he guided your movements.

Having a wicked idea that you knew would make you feel better, you push Bucky away from your neck and back onto the couch. His look of confusion quickly turned to arousal as you ground your hips deeper and faster into his lap.

Looking deep into his eyes and biting your lip, you slowly removed your top, leaving you in just your bra and jeans.

“Fuck, baby, you are so perfect.” He growled.

Pushing his fingers into your hair, he pulled your face into a heated kiss. With one hand in your hair, the squeezed at your covered breast.

“Say you love me.” You plead as you lean your head against his, the mood now turning less heated and more gentle.

“I love you, princess. You’re mine forever and I’ll be here for you forever. I love you, y/n.” He spoke earnestly, foreheads now touching and looking into each others eyes.

Your grinding stopped and your tears began to pool again as you looked into his eyes, so filled with love and care.

“I love you.” You gently weep to him as you close your eyes and his arms begin to snake around your middle, pulling you in for a sweet and loving hug.

[the-fiction-witch]

Apologize 

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Jacaerys Velaryon Couple - Jacaerys X Reader Reader - Princess Y/n Targaryen (Jace's Wife) Rating - 15 Word Count - 887

Jacaerys along with his wife and sibling Y/n, made their way into the dining hall of Dragonstone. They had come in from a frustration-clearing afternoon flight on Vermax and Tessani, however, they expected to meet their mother in the dining room, not two dragon seeds already helping themselves to the feast.

“We are meant to be in the training yard, learning the commands.” One said,

“And I will, but they cannot deny me being late until my stomach is filled,” The other laughed his feet on the table and food scraps falling to the floor,

“What are you doing here?” Jacaerys asked, “Remove your feet from the table.”

“I’d rather not.” the man snapped back,

“Ulf-” The first man attempted to mediate,

“It is not up to you. You are a guest here.” Y/n told him,

“Who’s it up to then? Maid girl?” Ulf asked,

“Maid!” Y/n gasped,

Jacaerys immediately grabbed her hand, “You will speak to us with more respect. Apologize at once!”

“Who’s gonna make me? Boy?”

“Ulf!” Hugh stopped him, “This is Prince Jacaerys Velaryon and Princess Y/n Targaryen.”

“Prince Jacaerys Verlayon,” Ulf got to his feet, wiping his hands down his shirt, “And Princess Y/n Targaryen, who’d have thought it.”

“They live here.” Hugh reminded,

“I have yet to hear my ladies' apology,”

Ulf rather foolishly wrapped his arms around Jacaerys in an embrace,

A rage boiled below the prince’s eyes,

“The young Prince! My handsome nephew.” He laughed joyfully as he pulled back giving Jacaery’s arms a firm tap, “And look at that hair-” He tried to reach for Jacaery’s dark curls but his wrist was stopped hard and fast before a single strand could be touched, almost breaking the man’s wrist. “As dark as they say! Don’t let them tell us we don’t have Targaryen Blood, ‘ey?!” He laughed, “And of course, My Beautiful niece!” he then wrapped his arms around Y/n, “As sweet as the songs aren’t you?” He laughed as he pulled back, “Don’t you worry darlin’ you can think of me as your fun, dirty uncle.” He smirked slapping her on the backside, “Us Targaryens do go in for that sort of thing,”

Y/n squealed and immediately escaped Ulf’s grip to the comfort of Jacaery’s arms,

“You. Dare. Lay. Your. Filthy. Hands. Upon. My. WIFE!” Jacaerys growled, “She is the princess of the realm! Not to be fondled by the likes of you!”

“Of course, didn’t mean to upset the little princess.” he chuckled, “Guess she’s only for your hands to fondle then?”

“How dare you-” Y/n began,

“Dragon riders. All of us lot. Cut from the same cloth.” Ulf changed the subject,

“It is a sacred inheritance, Of our family. Of which you know nothing!” Jacaerys growled,

“Forgive him, My prince, My princess. Ulf is… not use to the manners of the court.” Hugh spoke up,

“No manners at all,” Y/n muttered,

“I’d have to agree with my princess, No manners at all I’d say.” Jacaerys spat, “The dragon and its power is a right you have not earned. And when the flames come from the sky will you be at our side? Or will you make yourself easy and hidden? If you hinder our efforts in this war, by sloth or cowardice I will have you hung and your body fed to the dogs in the street!” Jacaerys warned,

“I- I am sorry my prince.” Ulf bowed,

“Now you will apologize to my princess.”

“Forgive me, princess.”

“Good.” he nodded, “and if I see you lay your eyes on her again, I will have them plucked from your skull and fed to the birds.” Jacaerys moved closer, “If I find a hand has been laid on her, I will have it sawn from your wrist and left for my dragon to snack on,” he moved closer right into Ulf’s dirty face, “As for anything else as our fun dirty uncle… If I find out anything else has touched her, And I WILL find out. I will have your manhood cut from your body and shoved up your ass.” He yelled, “Do you understand?”

Ulf nodded with a gulp, “Yes My prince, sorry…”

Hugh ushered Ulf away with him to go for their training,

As soon as they were gone Jacaerys wrapped his arms around Y/n, her head tight in his chest, his hand on her cheek, he kissed her forehead, then her nose, then her cheeks and finally her lips in a long tongue-filled kiss, only broken by his words. “Are you alright my sweet?”

“I think so,” she nodded, “What a horrid man!”

“I know, I do believe I already regret this idea.”

“You couldn’t know the scum your net would drag up from the sea bed my love,”

“I know…” he nodded, “But still, we seem to have found the sickest of the scum.”

“Makes you wonder why the dragons chose them?”

“Who knows the minds of those old dragons.” he sighed, “But if he so much as looks at you again I want to know about it my sweet.”

“I will tell you, I promise.” she nodded giving him another sweet kiss,

“Us Targaryen’s…” Jacaerys cursed the words,

“He is as much a Targaryen as I am a Lyseni.”

Jacaerys chuckled and gave his wife a tender kiss, “Come, let us feast in our chambers tonight. Alone.”

She nodded in agreement and held his hand tight as they made their way through dragonstone's long corridors to their chambers. 

[alfredosauce50]

Night at the Museum

[America x reader]

Rating: M Word count: 5, 887 Synopsis: You and Alfred decide to visit New York’s Museum of Natural History for old time’s sake. In a stroke of bad luck, you two get locked in overnight, unaware and unprepared for the dangers lurking within. It’s where history comes alive, and he ends up in a dangerous game of cat and mouse with a bloodthirsty warlord. The whole time, he’s also wrestling with his feelings for you, and he doesn’t know which is harder. Solipsism: knowledge of anything outside one’s own mind is unsure; the external world and other minds cannot be known and might not exist outside the mind.

“The more you know about the past, the better prepared you are for the future.” — Theodore Roosevelt

“Man, we haven’t been here since we were little kids,” Alfred took it all in as he made it inside, to where he was greeted by the skeleton of Tyrannosaurus rex in an awe-inspiring pose. With its head bowed toward the entrance, he and other patrons were greeted by a set of razor-sharp teeth grinning down with a hunger for the ages. “I wonder if anything’s changed. Probably a lot.”

“A bunch of stuff, actually. But it looks like they did a huge revamp on all the wax figures,” You lifted your gaze from a brochure you collected from the front. The museum of natural history wasn’t half as impressive as the Smithsonian, but it had a special place in both of your hearts. “They’re meant to be super realistic now. You know, the whole ‘history comes alive’ pizazz.”

“Huh. Then what would be the difference between here and Madame Tussaud’s?” He glanced at you.

“The people here are worth remembering.”

“Good point.”

As local New Yorkers, it was tradition to come back every once in a while. Yellow cabs, subway crazies, and the best pizza in the world — there was no other city quite like the Big Apple, and you two decided to swing by during your semester break to reconnect with your roots. Needless to say, it was nice to get away from the upbeat chaos of life on campus.

“You think you’re gonna go to Arthur’s Christmas party?” He asked you, peering around the room of American history. There was a shining stagecoach pulled by four black horses, mannequins in confederate and union uniforms with their guns trained at each other, a giant moose, and eagles watching over everything else.

“Well, we kinda have to. Can you imagine how upset he’d be if we didn’t? He’d probably be heartbroken.”

“Yeah, but I get crazy diarrhea every time.” He scoffed, eyes wide as he recalled blowing up the toilet last year.

”You don’t have to remind me.” You shuddered.

“I know, I was just saying. I was thinking we could go somewhere fun,” Alfred gave you an expectant look as he tried to sell you on it. “We could go skating, or just watch a movie back at my place. What do you say?”

“Hm, I don’t know. I’m really craving his scones.”

“Seriously?” 

”But not as much as our time together,” You smiled, watching him light up. Taking his hand, you pulled him along and said this with a laugh. “I’d rather go to the dumpster with you than the Met. You’re my best friend.”

“Yeah.” He softened his gaze. You said that, but the way you held his hand said otherwise. Or was it because you two were that close? Either way, he was starting to go down the pipeline he swore that he wouldn’t.

”Are you okay?” You asked.

”Yeah, I’m fine.” He adjusted his glasses.

“Wanna kiss it better?” You swung his arm playfully.

Alfred glared at you as the only diversion from the fact that he was blushing. It was so like you to say things like that. You were attractive, and you knew it. With your sense of humor, it made for a dangerous game. But he’d been playing it for a while. He covered your entire face with his hand, then pushed you down to a nearby bench in one clean movement.

”Hey!” 

“Hey yourself.” Alfred walked off with his hands in his pockets, as cool as a cucumber.

This might’ve been all fun and games with you, but you weren’t the loneliest animal on the planet here. Not that it made his feelings for you any less real. He liked you, and not because you were an idea in his head.

You were real, every strange thought and neuron of your imagination. You could be as sharp as a tack when you wanted to be. He loved your mind and the way it worked, or at least when you weren’t tantalizing him.

“Remember when we were little we used to take baths together?” You sprung up out of the blue.

”Barely.” Alfred exhaled, wildly unprepared for what just came out of your mouth. But before he reacted any further, he reminded himself just who he was talking to. “That’s probably why we did it in the first place. Why?”

You were sleeping over that time, as you always did every Friday after your philosophy class. Your things were strewn all over his bedroom, like a half-eaten cup noodle, some snacks, and the clothes you brought over.

While he browsed the rest of the displays in the room, he let himself get immersed in that particular memory.

That was when you caught up with him again, even having the nerve to smile up at him with ‘hehe’ written all over your face. He glowered down at you, but really, he was just happy that you were by his side again.

You had a thirty second rebound before doing or saying the next pain in the ass thing, but he forgave you even faster than that. And it had been that way since horseshoe crabs were the only thing roaming the Earth.

”You think we could fit in the bathtub?”

“If you’re asking if I wanna take a bath with you, it’s an immediate no. We’re way too old for that.”

“You don’t have to be such a prude,” You mumbled, rolling your head away. “I was just wondering.”

“I’m not a prude.” He grumbled.

“And it’s not like I haven’t seen your dick before.”

“Yeah, when I was little!” 

“Can’t imagine it’s grown much since then.”

He glared at the ceiling, not wanting to give you the satisfaction of seeing how embarrassed he was.

As much as he’d like to pull his pants down to prove you wrong, he didn’t. Someone had to uphold a sense of decency around here, even if that person had to be him, the worst possible example of it, if he was one at all.

“If you’re done, I’m gonna go to sleep,” He sat up and twisted around to fluff up his pillow. You were starting to drift off by then, but he didn’t let you off so easily. “Don’t let me catch you peeking or I’ll molest you.”

“I wasn’t planning on it, geez.”

And to think he used to be such a cute kid, kicking his ball over your fence just so he could come over to play. You both grew up since then, and with that, came his awful sense of humor among other things.

But if you asked him, he learned from the best.

“You know the nicest people make the best Nazis?” You asked, walking by a glass display of three wax figures. Sakagawea, a young Shoshone woman who guided Lewis and Clarke on their expedition to the Pacific.

“Do they?” He narrowed his eyes in interest.

“Nice people look the other way and just wanna get along with everybody else.” You said, towing him along. “Have the whole country doing that, plus a heap of propaganda, you could get away with anything.”

“Well, if I was a German, I wouldn’t buy into it.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Alfred frowned, genuinely offended. “I’m not a freakin’ racist.”

”Being scorned is your kryptonite,” You pointed out, getting him to roll his eyes. So he didn’t like to deviate from standards, and being a raving right-wing was one at the time. “And trust me when I say you would be.”

”That’s why the second amendment exists,” He smiled sagely with a hint of mischief. “If the government was to push some crazy agenda into us, the rednecks wouldn’t have it. We shape society to what we want.”

”What if the society you want isn’t the society someone else wants?” You asked, stopping in front of an exhibit of a male Algonquin warrior. “We all worship something. What’s normal to you might be crazy for someone else.”

”I guess you’re right,” He agreed, gazing upon the person who lived — and believed — in things drastically different than did. His brows came together as he marveled at the man who stood over him, a chief’s son who had been dead for well over a thousand years.

Allen was his name. He had striking scarlet eyes, dark maroon hair, tawny brown skin, and a toned body from a life of hunting and gathering. As he stared out into the middle distance, there was something uncanny about him, like he could come alive at any second, but didn’t.

“What do you think this guy worshipped?” Alfred murmured faintly, strangely captivated by him.

It was humbling to be in the presence of all of these historical figures, but intimidating to imagine them as people who existed. He was a history nut, and one thing he understood was how astonishingly cruel and violent the past could be. From the swashbuckling tales of the Wild West to the burning sands of Ancient Egypt, everything was best enjoyed from the comforts of his modern American home. Or in this case, a museum.

Where all of the exhibits were mere imitations of the long dead and gone, it would take no less than a miracle for any of them to come back to life. Little did he know, a miracle was exactly what he’d be in for tonight. 

You two poked around some more, eventually ending up in the Northern European section of the museum. Nothing really stood out to him besides the Vikings, who also caught the attention of the general public.

“This man was the greatest viking to have ever lived. Mathias Densen, the king of Danes,” A guide showed off a wax exhibit to a crowd of tourists. You and Alfred were among them, having taken the liberty to tune in.

Some took pictures, others whispered amongst themselves at the impressive lookalike made to imitate a legend out of the sagas. He had blonde hair swept up in the front in an unruly mane, and the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen. With his arm raised and axe in hand, he was frozen in time, suspended in a pose so natural, it looked like he’d bring it down at any given moment.

“He was the most feared warrior in all of Scandinavia. When he threw an axe at his enemy, he never missed. But all blood and gore aside, he will go down in history as one of the best leaders and explorers of all time.”

”Wouldn’t wanna get him angry, huh?” Alfred gave you a side-eye, returning his gaze to the information plate. That was when he saw a portrait of a woman who was supposedly the only one who could go toe-to-toe with his ruthlessness. “You know, she kinda looks like you.”

”Really?” You leaned over. “I don’t see it.”

”No way. You guys are like twins!” He exclaimed.

“Maybe just the eyes.”

“Maybe she’s your long-lost ancestor or something.”

After another hour of walking around and talking, you and Alfred left to get to the exit. It was approaching closing time, and you two were among the last to leave. A security guard stood near the revolving doors, bidding farewell to guests. But before he could acknowledge you two, Alfred stopped and patted around his shirt.

“Shit, I left my glasses.” He winced.

Neither of you two thought it would’ve been problem to go back and retrieve them at the time. Who would’ve thought they’d made the security so much tighter that it would end up the biggest mistake of your lives?

After sweeping room after room, he eventually found them on the ground next to a bench. Sliding them onto his nose, he picked up a brisk jog as he made his way back downstairs. But by then, it was too late.  

“Now let’s get out before we get locked in.”

”Don’t jinx us.” 

”Not gonna happen.” 

And he said that so confidently too. Because when he pushed at the revolving door, it didn’t budge. 

”What’s wrong?” You asked from behind. 

“Nothing, just give me a sec…” He rattled it a few more times, but to no avail. Then, he let out a heavy breath as he admitted the one thing he thought could never happen. “… Okay, I think we’re locked in.”

“You’re joking.” You blurted.

You brushed past him to give the door a strong shake, needing that same taste of defeat before believing it yourself. Sure enough, it was locked shut, and would likely stay locked all the way up til morning.

“Oh my God, we are. What are we gonna do?”

”Call the cops.” He suggested, pulling out his phone to dial 9-11. After a few tries, to which he stared at you tensely with it pressed up to his ear, he found that the call kept failing. “Annnnd the cops aren’t picking up.”

“Well, keep trying! Call Arthur or something.” 

For the next thirty minutes, you both paced around while trying to reach local government services, then friends or loved ones. It slowly became apparent that you two weren’t getting out anytime soon.

You weren’t the type to express it, let alone say it, but you were getting scared and uncomfortable.

So was he, but like hell he’d let it show. Not because he didn’t have the balls to admit it, but it was the last thing you needed right now. You weren’t looking at him, and he knew in an instant that you were on the verge.

“We’re not gonna make it out, are we?”

Alfred was crushed with so much guilt, he couldn’t even react when the lights dimmed, plunging the museum into a pitch-black darkness. His eyes stayed wide with remorse, even when he couldn’t see you anymore.

In that moment, he came over and hugged you as tight as he could, lips pursed in a deep frown. It wasn’t every day that he could hold you like this, but he set aside every shard of his shattered ego to do it.

Even if he had to do it in the dark.

There couldn’t be a better metaphor for his feelings. Alfred had always been too afraid to tell you how he felt, and if he did, he’d do it in a way that was hidden from plain sight. This was one of those times.

It was one thing to admit he was scared. It was another to say he was sorry. But telling you how much you truly meant to him was damn near impossible. So instead of doing any of the above, he let you sleep on him.

He had his back on a cold hard bench while you drifted away. There was no way he was getting any sleep tonight, but this was just his karma. So he stayed like that for the next few hours, to which you began to stir. 

“You good?” He asked in a soft murmur.

”Yeah,” You rubbed your eyes. “Just a little thirsty.”

”I’m pretty sure there’s a fountain outside.” He helped you up, putting on his glasses. “I’ll come with you.” 

”No, it’s fine.” You sighed, getting up to leave the room. 

”Hey,” Alfred softened his gaze, getting you to slow to a stop. He was so exhausted, all of his walls were coming down. And he couldn’t stand to bottle it up inside him any longer. “I’m sorry, okay? This was all my fault.”

”It’s okay. We can’t all be born perfect.” You cracked a smile, walking off. But the happy note only lasted so long once you got to the hallway outside. It was so dark, you could barely see the ground beneath you.

With nothing but the wall lamps to illuminate the empty halls, the institution turned into nothing but a graveyard: a dim labyrinth of the long dead and gone. And like all graveyards, there were ghosts.

The black outline of wax figures lined your peripherals, and you gazed at them nervously as you made your way to the fountain. After a few satisfying gulps, you began making your way back to the room. That was when you heard the echo of footsteps in the distance, too far away to have made sense at the time. Someone was at the end of the hall, and it couldn’t have been Alfred.

“Hello?” You called out to the source.

The shadow of a man appeared around the corner, the details of his wild, upswept hair showing up on the wall. When he revealed himself, he was covered head to toe in thick fur pelts and armor. Your eyes went wide ever so slowly, heart racing as you were struck with this realization. He was a spitting image of the viking you’d seen on display, but he wasn’t just an inanimate statue made of colored wax and glue. He was moving.

Breathing. 

He was alive.

Alfred waited patiently for you to come back, though he regretted letting you go out by yourself. It wasn’t like there was anything out there, but you must’ve been afraid under that bravado you showed him. If only he knew how wrong he’d been. As he sat on the bench, the museum slowly came to life. All of its waxy inhabitants, people gone for centuries, returned from the dead.

And the lights came back on, one by one.

The Viking’s chest heaved for the air that hadn’t filled his lungs in eons. And with eyes as blue as the oceans he sailed across, he stared at you like he had just seen a ghost. They had a light in them they never had before, a consciousness, a soul, and you stared right back. But the way he looked at you was like nothing you’d expect. There wasn’t a trace of hostility in his gaze, but something deeply emotional and coherent.

Not that any of that mattered to you.

You split, running from him as fast as you could and with more adrenaline than what you thought was humanly possible. But then again, what you witnessed was a testament to the impossible. The dead walked, and you were trapped in here with hundreds of them. Whipping your head over your shoulder, you let out a frightened cry when you saw him chasing you. 

Your screams echoed down the hall, and Alfred felt his blood go cold hearing them. But he forced himself to stand, and without a shred of hesitation, he ran outside to look for you. When you weren’t by the fountain, his heart sank to the pit of his stomach. And his face, now whiter than a sheet of paper. Where did you go?

“(F/N)!” He yelled, sprinting down the hall.

But more importantly, what was it that made you scream? Whatever it was, he knew he’d never forgive himself if something happened to you. The lights were now on, and he swore he could hear the tapping of what sounded like hundreds of footsteps. There was something around the corner, or someone, he just never would’ve anticipated it beyond his wildest imagination.

“Where are you?” Once be got around the turn, what he saw put a stopper to his thoughts, derailing them with the most fantastical thing he had ever seen. His eyes flew open, and his mouth went agape so he could let out a shaky breath. “What the hell is going on?”

Swathes of people dressed in cultural adornments and even objects were out and about, talking to each other in languages he couldn’t even begin to decipher. Inuits, African tribesmen, and Edwardian socialites walked along the halls like time had just shattered upon itself. Marble sculptures, copper statues, and other pieces of art were moving about like they weren’t made of some kind of rock. There was even a Terracotta soldier, who was accompanied by a Chinese dragon made entirely out of green jade. Elephants, rhinos, and giraffes passed by in a strangely calm fashion like this wasn’t their first rodeo in the museum. Everyone did, except for him. 

“No way.” He whispered, glancing left to right as he picked up a jog. If he wasn’t wrong, everything in the museum had come to life. Was he dreaming? He had to be. In his dazed stupor, he ran into a medieval knight. There was a loud clank, and he would’ve winced from how much it hurt if it weren’t for being spoken to. 

“Excuse me. Watch where you’re going!” 

“Sorry!” He blurted. “I’m so sorry.”

”That’s alright! But you look a bit pale there, kid. What seems to be the problem?” The knight questioned, still wearing his helmet and hiding his face. Aside from his silver armor, he wore pure white garments with a blood red cross — the signature outfit of a crusader knight.

“Oh, um, where do I start?” Alfred panted, speaking in a frazzled manner. Funnily enough, this was the straightest he’d been thinking now that someone was talking to him. “Oh, I know! How the hell is everyone and everything in this museum alive right now?”

“I’d normally have a better answer, but I’ve never read anything like this in the Bible,” The other scratched their head through their helmet inquisitively. “Maybe I missed a chapter. But honestly, I’m just as lost as you are.”

“I’m sorry, what?” 

“The Bible. The word of God. Haven’t you heard of it?”

”I know what the Bible is!” Alfred raised his voice into a frustrated hiss, but he instantly felt bad for it. “Sorry. I’m talking to a monk, here. I should be more respectful. But never mind that. I’m looking for my friend. I’m worried something happened to her.”

”I could help you look for her!” 

“That would be great, thank you.” 

”I’m Gilbert. Proud Templar Knight and brother from the Temple of Solomon.” They took off their helmet and held it against their hip, revealing a head of white hair and ruby-red eyes. Then, they outstretched a gloved hand for him with a toothy grin. “Pleasure to meet you.” 

“Nice to meet you too. I’m Alfred, uh, son of Arthur, and student hailing from New York,” Alfred improvised awkwardly, giving it a slow, disoriented shake. “Wow. I can’t believe I’m talking to a Crusader knight right now.”

“So where did you last see your friend?” Gilbert asked.

Mathias carried you all the way to the other side of the museum, and you thrashed the whole time, begging him to let you go. When he finally put you down, he kept a firm grip on your hand. You were greeted by other Vikings, and just when you thought you’d be sacrificed like a goat, they broke out in wide smiles.

Besides them speaking in old Norse to you, which you had no way of comprehending, they were more than pleasant to you, even offering you some plastic food, which you politely declined. From the way they acted around you, it was like being with an old friend.

It became clear that they had no intention of harming you, but why they brought you here was still a mystery.

”I’m sorry, but I don’t understand what you guys are saying,” You interrupted meekly, darting your nervous eyes between them. They stared at you with blank faces before exchanging confused looks with each other. “Could you please let me go? I don’t want any trouble.”

“Where did you run off to? I haven’t seen you all week. I was worried something happened to you,” Mathias spun you to him, hugging you tightly before putting his hands all over you. “You’re speaking in tongues and acting very strange! We need to get you a doctor.”

”I didn’t understand that either.” You sighed.

”It’s worse than I thought. Somebody get Olaf,” The Dane ordered, summoning another Viking to come over. They took your arm and led you off, much to your dismay. “Look after her for me, friend. In the meantime, I have a man to hunt. He’s the one responsible for this.”

”Hey, wait! Where are you taking me?” You exclaimed, glancing back at Mathias as he left. In that precise moment, your best friend’s words replayed in your mind like a tape. You looked just like his wife, and so much that it had the actual guy fooled. “Oh no. Alfred!” 

It didn’t take a linguist to know that he was in trouble, but there was nothing you could do. Your companions kept you inside their make-shift hut, treating you as one of their own. They laid you down and spoke to you very slowly, so they must’ve thought you had a concussion. Either way, they weren’t letting you out of their sight.

You just hoped Alfred brushed up on his history, because he’d be needing it tonight.

”Where the hell could she be?” Alfred walked with his newest companion. “We checked everywhere!” 

”Actually, we still haven’t checked Northern Europe.” Gilbert corrected, getting the blonde to turn in the direction of said location. But he launched a hand out and grabbed him, pulling him back. “Don’t. It’s suicide.”

”Why?” He frowned.

”It’s occupied by Norse Pagans.” The albino warned, pulling him close for a tantalizing whisper. He glanced around before he continued, almost as if speaking of them would summon them like the devil himself.

”Norse Pagans? You mean Vikings?”

“They came here last week, and it’s been Hell ever since.” Gilbert took his collar as he whispered in a panicked hush. “We sent a missionary up there once, and he came back to us completely dismembered!”

“Oh, fuck.” Alfred dug his hands through his hair, now a nervous wreck as he envisioned the thought. But what made his stomach really churn was the unshakeable thought that it was probably where you were.

For that, he was surprised he hadn’t vomited already. And he almost did when Gilbert went off on a passionate spiel of the Scandinavian heathens and everything they’d done. That was when one appeared at the end of the hall, and it wasn’t just any Scandinavian heathen.

”I mean, he’s okay now, but it was really disturbing.” The other made a face of unease as he recalled the sight. It wasn’t something a person was meant to see in their lifetime, but at least he was in a more dubious position now. “I don’t think they care for God.”

“Dude.”

”What?”

”That’s the Viking I saw earlier today.” Alfred whispered, locking eyes with Mathias who stood no more than three hundred feet away from him. In the next three seconds, the Dane broke into a sprint, charging at him at a terrifying speed like a mad bull. He let out a wheeze, likely the sound of his soul escaping his body. “Aaaand he’s running at us. Well, this has been a good life.”

”God hasn’t forsaken us yet!” Gilbert unsheathed a gleaming longsword, swinging it in impressive circles.  

Mathias launched an axe at him, and it spun through the air so fast, it passed as nothing but a white flash.

It cut Gilbert’s head clean off, getting it to land on the ground with a thump. There was no blood or flesh, just a cross-section of wax where he was decapitated. While he had his face planted on the floor, he said this in a muffled voice. “So that’s what that feels like.” 

But Alfred had already fled by then.

He never stuck around to see his friend lose his dignity, much less his own. He whimpered a little as he pumped his legs as fast as he could. He was running on so much adrenaline, his bloodstream may as well have been battery acid. But not everybody could outrun a Viking, and he would’ve eaten it if it weren’t for the arm that shot out from the side, pulling him into a room.

When he turned to the stranger who’d saved him, he recognized him to be the native Algonquin warrior he’d seen earlier that day. Only this time, he was perfectly canny and had an unrivaled sharpness that would end up ensuring his survival. While Mathias ran by outside with his pelts and armor clinking away, Allen put a finger up to his mouth to get him to stay deathly still.

But above all else, quiet.

There they crouched, hidden from plain sight like the watchful forces of nature. In the most tense ten seconds of their lives, they stared at each other, cerulean and scarlet eyes as wide as they could get them. For a moment, Alfred forgot he was being chased, deeply enchanted by the person in front of him. He was quite literally gazing back into history, a thousand years into the past to be precise. But once the coast was clear, he went back to hyperventilating. He was still in shock from everything that just happened, and the first thing he let out was an excited, albeit exasperated gasp. 

“Oh my God. You just saved my life. Thank you!” 

”Don’t mention it.” Allen took his bow off so he could arm himself with it. Then, he peered outside the door, making sure there weren’t any Vikings in the area. Turning back to the blonde, he pulled an arrow from his quiver without breaking eye contact. “I’ve been tracking that guy for days, and this is the craziest I’ve ever seen him. You have any idea why he would be after you?”

“How should I know? I don’t know the guy personally!” Alfred exclaimed, following him out into the hall. 

“You must’ve done something to piss him off.”

”But I didn’t do anything!” 

“Then he wouldn’t waste his time chasing you when he’d rather search for his girlfriend.” Allen remarked. “One of my pals can speak his language, and he says he’s been looking for her ever since he got here.”

“Fuck, that’s it. Why didn’t I think of it before?”

They ran to the elevator, to which he pressed the button for the basement. It had always been on the tip of his tongue, but the whirlwind of a night left his head more scrambled than he thought. And now that he had it all pieced together, he came up with a plan to save you.

“I came here with my friend, and she looks exactly like his wife. He must’ve seen us together. But it’s okay, I have an idea. They must have extra wax figures in storage, right? If she’s as important as they say, they must have her tucked away down here somewhere.”

“Okay, so we do a trade-off.”

”Exactly.”

”Smart.” Allen pursed his lips, thoroughly impressed.

The doors slid open and thus, they began their search, sweeping the entire basement for the reason why the museum had turned into a war zone. After an hour or so, Alfred heard someone banging away and calling for help from inside a tall wooden crate. A woman, and she sounded just like you. He and Allen walked up to it, then cracked it open like a treasure chest. Lo and behold, it was your doppelgänger, but dressed in the height of fashion from what was a thousand years ago.

“I think we found our girl.” He murmured in awe.

The three of you got back to the elevator. It was a given that the you from the Viking age was a little hesitant to get into such a tight box, but Allen had a way with body language. He made a few gestures to let you know where he was taking you. What more was that these two men had just broken you out of an even tighter box, so you had no reason not to trust them. 

“You know, I meant to ask, but doesn’t it bother you that there is a living, breathing, homicidal axe-wielding maniac running around the museum every night?” Alfred asked, feeling strangely calm now that he sensed that the night’s excitement was coming to an end. 

“We’re not alive the way you’re alive,” Allen told him. That was right. As magical as it was to have the museum come to life, it wasn’t real. History had done its course. He spoke with power and humility as he confronted that fact, and for that, he seemed to be at peace. “We’ve had our shot. But you still have yours.”

“I have the craziest chills right now.”

”But also because we’re made of wax.”

“Okay, that makes more sense.” Alfred laughed a little, turning to him. ”So how come you speak English?”

”I’ve been on display here for years,” Allen grinned, walking out now that the elevator doors opened. They returned to the bustling halls of the Museum of Natural History, where history had really come to life that night. “New York is my home. Always has been.”

”Explains the accent.” 

It didn’t take long to track down Mathias again, and when he finally laid eyes on the one he’d been searching for, he turned into an entirely different person. His anger, terror, and everything that made him a legend, had all but melted into a deep emotional coherence.

He was nothing but a man now. A man with his own joys and sorrows like everybody else.

He dropped his ax and ran up to his long-lost love, picking her up and embracing her after what felt like an eternity. He finally found her again after a thousand years, and the scene was quite profound to behold.

But if you asked Alfred, it wasn’t as touching as his reunion with you. He found you in the hall of Northern Europe, holed up in a tent and rubbing your eyes. They were red from crying, and the way you looked at him was something he’d burn in his mind forever. And the way you hugged him, a feeling he’d never get tired of.

”I knew you’d come.” You squeezed him.

“Of course I came,” He squeezed you back, burying his face into the crooked of your neck. “But maybe it’s time that I switch out my glasses for some contact lenses. Don’t wanna keep losing them like I did tonight.”

“No way!” You gushed. “I like the way you look now.”

”Yeah?” He smiled rosily. From that outburst alone, he knew you’d forgiven him for everything that happened. But from the sound of things, you had a much easier time than he did. On the way home, he enthused you on the people he met and his close brushes with death. 

“You ever hear of a term called solipsism?” You asked. 

“Doesn’t ring a bell.” He shook his head.

“It’s the concept that everything around you doesn’t exist and is made up by your own mind,” You explained, stopping him in the middle of the street. It was dawn by then, and the rising sun cast a golden glow over your tender smile. “But if everything around me is just my imagination, you’re the best thing I’ve come up with.”

His eyes went wide, shocked by how sweet you just were. Just like that, everything he ever pined away for didn’t matter anymore. He was worth more to you than an adventure of a lifetime because he was that adventure. But at the same time, Alfred fell even harder for you, and it showed in the way his gaze softened. 

”Right back at you, sport.” 

[the-s1lly-corner]

7 Minutes in Slender Mansion (Opener)

that's right chat! We are going through with the idea! This is only an opener to what's to come, after the fic will be a poll for you to vote in! no characters, only items for you to draw! The winner of course gets a fic for the actual game! depending on how this and the first part goes i may make fics for the other choices! Characters: slenderman, splendorman, masky, hoodie, ticci toby, jeff the killer, nina the killer, laughing jack, eyeless jack, puppeteer, bloody painter notes: reader is gn, speed writing this so the characters mentioned above may not be mentioned in this part BUT will be options in the poll!, this will be shared on AO3 after the first follow up fic is put up, takes place in the mansion we are getting silly in here, reader is implied to be a killer and/or non human due to their presence in the mansion itself cws: none word count: 887

The entire night had been chaotic- with the Halloween season drawing closer some of the more festive inhabitants of the mansion have taken it upon themselves to get into the holiday spirit. From decorating with their own touch of gore to roping in some of the more unwilling into their games and activities. 

You yourself were dragged into it by a hyped up Nina, who would not take no for an answer- even if you were already making your way downstairs in order to get in on the fun. 

Masky and Hoodie stood together quietly in a corner away from the chaos as Toby fought with Jeff over what game should be played that night. You tune out their bickering as you take account of who else had decided to join in that night. Laughing Jack was sprawled across the couch, accompanying Splendor as they both filed through candy. 

Actually, Splendor was the one doing most of the ordering- separating fruit candies from chocolates, as well as keeping ones with nuts far away from the other options. Laughing Jack was merely supplying the candy, drawing them out of a seemingly never ending stash in his pockets. 

You’d have to ask him about that one day… 

“As soon as those two,” Nina jerks her head towards Toby and Jeff, “figure out what game we’re going to play then we’ll get started… in the meantime get comfortable-” You watched Nina’s eyes light up as she spotted Eyeless Jack stepping into the room with a bowl. You couldn’t tell exactly what was in it from where you were standing, but at least it didn’t seem to be organs. 

Maybe.

Nina leaves your side to take the bowl from him, her voice melting into the noise of the space around you. 

You scan around the room again to try to find a free space, and as you take an absentminded step forward you bump into someone. In the brief moment you took to look around, Bloody Painter had found himself in front of you.

He hardly makes a sound when you make contact, and he only gives you a glance over his shoulder. He doesn’t say much before continuing his path to one of the few free chairs in the room, right next to where Pup was- leaning against the wall, pretending to check his nails. You could feel his golden eyes boring into you from across the room.

You shake the feeling, being only partly successful… 

You make a dull note in your head that Slenderman was in the room, alone and silent as he always was.

You take a step to the couch and Splendorman makes room for you, offering you a warm smile.

“Reader! I’m so glad you’ve decided to join us!” He nearly chirped as he continued sorting out the candies. Nina briefly returned to set the bowl she had taken from Eyeless Jack onto the table. 

It was only popcorn, thankfully. 

“So what’s the plan for tonight? Are we just going to play games and then that’s it?” You ask, leaning forward to snag a handful of candy. 

Your eyes dart around once more.

“Where’s Jane?” 

“Babysitting!” Laughing Jack chuckled as he dumped another large fistful of candy out onto the table, letting them slide and scatter across the surface. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Splendor’s smile tighten before relaxing in an instant. 

“She wasn’t interested in joining tonight… it’s a shame, she keeps to herself… but at least she’s keeping the little ones occupied,” Splendor said as he reached forward to get right back to his work.

“Ben would throw a hissy fit if he heard you calling him “little one”, you know that right?” You tease. Splendor only shook his head gently, but didn’t say anything else.

You heard footsteps behind you, prompting you to turn around in your seat to find everyone else beginning to gather around- Jeff snagged Splendor’s hat right off of his head and flipped it upside down and dumped something into it. 

“Okay-” He barked out and passed the hat around. “Put something in the hat, we’re playing seven minutes in heaven!” Jeff called out. Several voices broke out, but he shushed them all.

“Not my choice, blame Toby- lover boy here is hoping to get some with his crush- YOU FUCKER-” Jeff hissed as he spun to Toby, who merely looked away. You had heard the impact, he must have kicked Jeff. 

Jeff drew a sharp hissing breath through his teeth, and before long he shoved the hat into your hands. “Here, put something in… or don’t if you want to go first,” He flashed a toothy grin at you. The slits in the sides of his face made it look far more menacing than he probably intended… maybe. “You don’t have to play if you don’t wanna, there’s more planned for tonight,” Jeff added after you didn’t say anything for a moment. 

“If I don’t start it, who will?” You ask.

“Not it!” Laughing Jack immediately called out. In an instant everyone started calling out a variation of the phrase, leaving you dumbstruck and still holding the hat. 

Your mouth twists into a pout, but you don’t make a move to back out of the game.

You reach your hand and pull out…

[chilling-seavey]

Winter Warmers: Day 12 — Daddy/Mommy & Mistletoe Kiss

↳ A/N: I know the daddy/mommy prompt was supposed to be spicy but I used it in a fluffy domestic way so deal with it x

↳ Summary: It's your son's first Christmas and that brings you and George all the feels.

↳ Word Count: 887

↳ Winter Warmers Prompt List | The Way It Goes Masterlist

The apartment was silent apart from the soft woosh of the white noise machine on the dresser. The nine-month-old was snuggled in George’s arms, a tiny hand resting haphazardly up against his chest, pacifier resting limp between his lips as he fell into a comfortable sleep wrapped in a blanket and the warmth of his father’s body. George couldn’t stop staring at the baby in the darkness of the nursery, admiring the shadows over his cherubic cheeks and sweet button nose as he rocked side to side ever so slightly. 

From across the room, you had finished making sure the crib was ready with a clean fitted sheet—dotted in little reindeers—and the baby monitor camera on. George drifted over to your side silently, baby boy snoozing away in his arms, and you smiled fondly at the sight. Not wanting to disturb the little one too much, you only leaned down to press a faint kiss to his forehead and then George lifted him up cautiously to do the same himself. The baby stirred, his hand tightening momentarily on the fabric of George’s shirt, before resting again.

George slowly bent over the side of the crib and laid the baby down in the centre of the mattress, careful not to jostle him too much and risk waking him. But, like the good sleeper he was, your son barely stirred. In his slumber with his arms draped on either side of his head, he suckled on his pacifier a little, the soft plastic bumping against his nose ever so slightly, before once again falling still.

“Good night, my angel.” George whispered down to him, petting a gentle hand over his downy hair. “Merry Christmas.”

You leaned over the crib beside him, joining in his whispered words of adoration to your son with a gentle caress of his chubby cheek with the back of your finger, “Sweet dreams, my love.”

The two of you lingered there a moment as if not wanting to break out of that scene. It was something you had learned since becoming parents only nine months earlier: you could never tire of watching your son sleep. The mere sight of him just filled your heart with unfathomable amounts of love and protectiveness, relishing in the reality that your son was the single most beautiful thing either of you had ever seen in your entire lives. And he was yours. 

George’s hand rested on the small of your back, a comforting presence that symbolized your unyielding connection as new parents, your relationship only tested and strengthened since the birth of your son. Your two favourite guys in the whole world, right there in the same room with you. Your heart could have burst. 

Soon, you and George tiptoed out of the nursery to let your son sleep and you closed the door behind you both with nothing more than a faint creak of the hinges. You followed George down the hallway towards the living room where the Christmas tree was set up, awaiting presents from Santa. Your son was not yet one-year-old but you wanted to make the holiday special for him regardless if he would remember it—perhaps this was more for you as parents in the grand scheme of things, but there was nothing wrong with that. 

When the living room was stocked with wrapped presents and goodies for the morning, you and George lingered in the doorway to admire the festive scene. Your own little apartment decorated with your own Christmas tree and lights for your own little family. How perfect. 

“His first Christmas,” George spoke aloud, his voice tinged with near wonder as he held you close at his side, “I can’t believe it.”

“I know,” you breathed, “Where does the time go?”

George pulled you a little closer by your waist and rested his head against yours as you shared in the moment of Christmas warmth. It was a testament to how far you had come as partners; from that hotel lobby a handful of years ago to getting engaged faster than anyone believed was realistic to falling pregnant within a week of your wedding. It felt as though everything was moving so fast and, yet, at the same time, with him, everything felt like it was happening just as it needed to. This moment of peace was a chance to step back and reflect on where you had come from and where you were going. The future to face together, a family to raise…

The sound of a dainty bell ringing tore you from your thoughts and you looked up to see that George had tapped the tiny bell on the mistletoe hanging in the living room archway above you. Brought back to the present, to that moment to share with just him, it was the only place you wanted to be. So, you shared in his cheeky smile and as you did so, he leaned in to kiss your lips. 

When he pulled away, he whispered a gentle, “Merry Christmas, Mommy.”

Feeling the domestic adoration behind his words, nothing more than the sweetest reminder of your newfound titles as parents, your heart soared. You cradled his face in your hand and gently stroked your thumb over his cheek, replying with a soft, “Merry Christmas, Daddy.”

And you shared another tender kiss.

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