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gothamsglam · 3 years

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Can I have Your Name? (a SamBucky ficlet)

for @samshield hope you enjoy 😘

(also on ao3 under @/the_fifth_marauder101)

---

“Thanks, can I have your name?” asked Bucky with a charming smile on his face, pulling out a sharpie. However, instead of writing on an empty class as the poor customer thought, he scribbled down “Tony” on one of those ‘Hello, my name is…’ stickers.

“That’s a wonderful name by the way,” Bucky compliments, because fck you Steve, he can be polite.

He fcking told Steve going into customer service was a great idea. Idiot wanted to continue doing door to door shit, or, even worse, mope around forests for wandering travelers. He told him it wasn’t the 1400s anymore, and to grow up. Damn the supernatural council and their ‘hunt in pairs’ rule, he will go rouge and leave Stevie, he will do it.

“I’m this close,” Bucky had hissed, holding his fingers in the air so Stevie could see,

“Your fingers are touching,” Steve deadpanned.

“Exactly.”

The man doesn’t look up from his flurry of typing, “Thank you, it’s a family name.”

“Sure,” Bucky replies quietly “Alright, your order will be right out,” Bucky grinned, replacing his name tag with the new one without looking away from the brown-haired customer. The second the tag sticks to his shirt, he feels a refreshing rush of energy. Kind of like what he imagines those ‘caffeine/sugar rush’ those damn teens keep harping about.

“Thank y—” The customer—Tony—looks up from his phone to flash him a grin, only to have it fall from his face when he sees the name tag.

This was the fun part. Bucky didn’t break eye contact, maintaining it with the same smile, only now he could tell it felt eerie to the human. Like something wasn’t right.

The man’s brown eyes flitted up and down between Bucky’s face and the name tag, before he surged forward, “What di—”

“Have a good day,” Bucky bit out, still keeping the smile and cheery customer service tone. His eyes were blank, he made sure of it. Honestly, this whole song and dance was unnecessary. Stevie usually just wrote the name tags, and then stuck them on as he was making the drinks. Their shop was typically slow enough that there wouldn’t be people behind to question why the tender had a new name. But Bucky loved to fck with humans. What the hell else was he supposed to do? He’s been alive for 70 generations, let him have his fun.

However, today was a bit different. Another two walked into the shop, Bucky didn’t see it as much as he felt it. Bucky kept his back turned, hollering “Welcome to Stars and Stripes, I’ll be with you in just a moment,” over his shoulder as he made the three drinks. What asshole ordered three drinks?

Bucky’s question was answered when he saw the two men walk over to Tony’s table. One of them kissed Tony on the cheek and the other just faux-gagged before giving Tony a hug as well. Bucky called out the order, eyes tracking the way Tony mumbled something to the two men and both reacted oddly, as they probably should. Bucky would expect no less.

Apparently, he jinxed himself, because the man who hugged Tony came to pick up the drinks.

“Nice name,” said the man.

“Thanks,” Bucky flashed his uncanny valley smile and offered nothing else. The man winked and then walked back to the table.

Bucky did not look at his ass, he didn’t.

---

The next day, the man comes in. Not Tony, but other guy. The cute one.

“Hi my name’s Jacob, how may I help you today?” Bucky asks politely.

The man, to his credit, didn’t bat an eyelash, “Hi I’ll have three—” And he rattled off the same order that Tony had. Bucky resisted the urge to frown, maybe it was just a two-time thing? This group has only come into their shop once before, what are the odds of it happening again, for a third time?

“Perfect,” Bucky slid the receipt across the counter, “Can I have your name?” Bucky asked, as he reached for a pen.

“Nope,” the man replied.

Bucky froze in his moments, “What?”

The man shrugged, face showing nothing but politeness, “I’m the only person in this store, you’ll be able to find me.”

Bucky was stunned as he watched him walk back to the spot the trio was in the other day. As he sat down, the man gave a nod of acknowledgment to Bucky, who was still staring.

His brown—almost hazelnut with the light of the sun—eyes stared into Bucky’s own, and in them all he saw was mischief.

Fck.

---

For the next two days, Bucky kept a—subtle, he wasn’t obsessed or anything—watch out for Tony or The Man. And for those two days, he didn’t see hide or hair of them. Bucky figured they must have been college students from nearby campuses, wandering in when Starbucks was too full, which happens often enough. Then on the third day, he returned.

“Hey, Jacob” greeted The Man, his smile so bright—so bright that Nat would have burned like she does under the sun and threaten to bite the man in the jugular. Bucky, who was too gobsmacked to even deliver his customer service opening, stared at him.

“Not Jacob,” Bucky said, his voice strangled.

The Man chuckled, his eyes sparkling with the same look from the first day he ordered, “Ok ‘Not Jacob’, may I have—” And repeated the same order from the last two times.

“Um, right, uh” Bucky stammered, face growing hot as The Man raised an eyebrow at him smugly, “Can I have your name?”

“Put Redwing,” The Man said, shrugging. The corner of his lips pulled upwards into a happy smirk—how can a person have a fcking happy smirk?—, not that Bucky was only looking at his lips or anything.

“Redwing?” Bucky asked, stupidly. Because why ask, idiot, why ask for clarification? He read somewhere that the psyche is powerful enough to make the body do things, like fake pregnancies. Whether that’s something only reserved to humans is up for debate, but maybe, if Bucky doesn’t ask and lives in blissful ignorance, he can feed off of a fake name. But no, because he’s a bloody fool, he asked.

“It’s my pet’s name,” The Man answered, then looked tilted his head, giving a sheepish smile, “Or at least, that’s what I want to name a pet, I don’t have one.”

“Right,” Said Bucky, suddenly feeling empty in ways that have nothing to do with hunger, “Your order will be right out.”

Their conversation was longer than normal, so when the man went to sit down, the couple came in moments afterward. All three sat in the same place as before.

‘Oh no,’ Bucky thought in dawning horror, ‘Regulars.’

---

“Falcon,” grins The Man, now foregoing any attempts to be subtle and simply being a little shit.

Bucky looked at him, face void of any amusement. At this point, he’s shucked the polite customer service voice and snarked back and forth with the regular like there’s no tomorrow—only in this situation, there is a tomorrow, there always is tomorrow.

Their staring contest probably goes on for a bit too long, judging by the way Tony and his boyfriend—Bucky can feel comfortable calling the two a couple, based on how disgustingly affectionate the two get in the cafe—walk in.

The Man flashed a smile and turned away to greet the couple. An audible ‘Rhodey!’ reached Bucky’s ears. Now, finally, he has a name for one of the dark-skinned men, the one who kissed Tony’s cheek and was currently walking in with said Tony, arm around his shoulders. Only Bucky doesn’t feel that familiar warmth pool in his gut, refreshing his energy levels.

‘Oh,’ Bucky thinks, and watches as the man—his regular—laughs with his friends but also how his eyes flit back to peek at Bucky as names are spoken. ‘oh, loopholes.’

Bucky is so screwed.

---

The names his regular gives become increasingly goofy, and Steve teases him about how flirty they get—Bucky absolutely didn’t have a favorite, and it absolutely wasn’t Angel. But Bucky only believed Stevie when he got a number instead of a random moniker.

“What?” Bucky short-circuited.

The man just sighed, “Come on, I gave you my number, work with me here.”

“You finally did it, huh, Sam?” Tony called out from where he was typing away on his computer, which rested on Rhodey’s legs. Rhodey, who was sprawled out in one of their chairs, nudged Tony with his foot, “Shush, let them have this.”

‘Sam,’ Bucky thinks, and all he can come up with in his blue screened mind is, ‘Perfect’.

In his phone, the name Sam’s contact is under is ‘Angel’.

Steve heckles.

---

“How did you know, Angel?”

Sam looks at Bucky, and Bucky’s struck into silence, The whole world falls around them in muted sounds and lights fade into balls of blurry color, because as they lock gazes all Bucky can notice is Sam’s eyes. Sam’s eyes—his wonderful, soul-deep eyes that shine with mischief and laughter, that glow so bright and rival the heavens when the sunlight reflects off it just so—are sad.

“My friend,” Sam says quietly, “Riley. He was one of yours.”

Bucky nods, and reaches out with his metal hand—an injury from decades ago and a gift from a shapeshifter who hissed that his debt was repaired before slithering off into the night—pulling Sam closer to him. They watch the sun go down from the top of the roof, the stars revealed one by one, twinkling against the darkness of the dusk.

---

(One day, Bucky will ask for Sam’s name again, specifically his last name. Only then, will Sam reply honestly.)

---

AN: This is a more bastardized version of faeries/fae, I just made up my own creature for what Bucky and Steve are. Simply because I just wanted to write a little ficlet about SamBucky and didn’t do much research. Don’t think too hard about it :)

(and the link to the Tik Tok I saw on tumblr that inspired this is also linked on my ao3 fic)

Hope you enjoyed!

-vix

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babykatsu · 4 years

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chapstick.

pairing: denki kaminari x fem!reader

words count: 1.5k

rating: sfw ☁️

genre: fuff

warnings: kissing!

masterlist!

synopsis: during each one of your breaks between class, you coated your lips in a new flavour of chapsticks. This small habit and odd obsession of yours was soon noticed by Denki, who began seeking you out every lunch just to see what new flavour you’d have this time. Was it wrong of him to want a taste of those fruity flavours as well?

[a/n]: i don’t know what’s with me and benches but this talks about a bench again😭 i promise i can write other scenarios... ):

The wind had an odd warm feel to it as it flowed in and out of your hair, your lips feeling slightly dry and chapped as the air brushed against them. This could only call for one thing and one thing only, chapstick.

During your breaks between class, you always applied something to your lips like lip balms, obsessed with the moisture it always brought. This little habit slowly manifested into your avid collection of differently flavoured chapsticks, your favourites being the fruity ones especially. Every day, you brought a new flavour to school, delighted to try it out. Of course, you put all the balms to good use, insuring to finish every single one them, no matter how many you had accumulated.

You peacefully sat on a bench alone, enjoying your own company as you revealed the chapstick you had been keeping in your blazer pocket, eager to try its unique flavour. Gently, you took off the lid with a ‘pop’, it’s strong fruitful smell drowning your nose in its delicious scent. The fragrance depicted was that of an artificial mango with a dash of passionfruit, the smell freshly intoxicating and unavoidable.

As you twisted the base of the chapstick, revealing that soft orange coloured balm, a familiar someone peeked their head around the corner. The signature clown of the class, Denki Kaminari. His blonde locks swayed with the gentle gushes of the wind, his hair being pushed out of place revealing his electric yellow eyes. The eyes that had their entire attention on the small cylinder in your hands, the chapstick. After catching you 3 days in a row applying chapstick in the same place, same position, same routine but different chapstick, he became curious.

Arguably, he was probably more interested than you in the different flavours you had brought with you. He adored watching your growing collection and your obvious addiction to the balms. All the different smells, interesting names and the weird combinations of flavours was mesmerising to him. Though there was something he enjoyed more than just that. Indeed his mouth watered at the artificial flavours, he craved to try one of those balms himself one day but damn he enjoyed watching you apply the chapstick even more.

The way your soft yet chapped lips parted

as you coated them in moisture. Slowly circling the fragrant vaseline, it’s wax melting on your warm tender skin. He loved the ways your lips would get rosy and plump as they became damp. Secretly, that was his guilty pleasure.

Soon, he caught onto your routine. He found you almost immediately every break, using the same excuse: “just came to see which flavour you have this time” as he rubbed that back of his neck with a goofy grin sprawled out on his face. That wasn’t a full-on lie, the various smells brought him so much joy but he just wanted to drown in the beauty that was you. The beauty he saw when you oh so carefully applied those chapsticks.

And here was again, that stupid look on his face as he was getting ready to use the same old excuse. You paused the application of your chapstick, knowing he would want to see the flavour and question it before you applied it.

“just came to see-“ he started, yet didn’t get very far when you abruptly interrupted his sentence.

“I know” you spoke softly, a welcoming smile on your face as you motioned towards the vacant spot on the bench next to you. Without a second thought, he sat down eager eyes darting to the chapstick you were holding.

“What flavour is it this time?” a giggle escaped his mouth, his eyes crinkling as the smile he already had her wider.

“guess”

Slowly you lift the balm to his nose, giving him a good whiffed of the intense fruity scent. Instantly he felt himself become overwhelmed in the scent, getting ready to pick apart every clue he got to guess the flavour. The smell was fresh and fruity, typical of you as he’s become accustomed to your preference in taste. Was it pineapple? or perhaps it was melon. The smell was too strong for him to work out exactly what it was.

“Hmmm, smells like...” he furrowed his eyebrows, face scrunching as he put on his ‘thinking face’.

You couldn’t help but let out a light giggle, pulling away your chapstick from his nose to finally give your dry lips the moisture they had been craving. His eyes instantly diverted to your lips, watching the careful application process. Mesmerised and very much pleased with the image before him. As dramatic as it sounded, such simple actions like that coming from you made him swoon.

“give up?” you teased him, noticing the way he had zoned out.

As your words flooded his ears, he snapped back into reality, quickly fixing the point his eyes had been staring at your lips. His beaming yellow eyes explored your features as a proud smirk curled on his lips.

“it’s mango baby!” He was right as usual.

Unusually though, he called you something other than your name. A blush began to spread across your cheeks. You didn’t quite know in what way he meant it, but you sure as hell knew it was causing you to internally combust. Your face flushed and your heart began to beat just a tad bit faster.

“does it taste like mango thought?”

He started his usual questioning, always hoping you’d finally offer some balm to him but that would be quiet weird. I’m pretty sure that’s what you’d call a second-hand kiss, but Denki wasn’t fully focused on that aspect of it. Maybe just a bit. It was never successful though, he’s never received such a generous offer from you, not because you didn’t want to give him it. The thought just never even crossed your mind. Today Denki was determined to finally get a taste.

“It might, I don’t really lick the lip balm off my lips to know”

you laughed at your own bizarre comment. Most of these chapsticks claimed to have a nice taste, but you weren’t the type to straight up eat your lip balms so it was not really something you were familiar with.

Denkis laugh accompanied yours as his body hitched slightly closer, now closer to you.

“can i have the first taste, m’ lady?”

The comment took you back slightly. He wanted to taste the lip balm? You carefully watched him reach his hand out to the lip balm. His gentle slender fingers hovered over yours, brushing paste your warm skin as they locked around the balm. Shifting your gaze, you looked back up to his face, a large grin greeting your wondering eyes. The warmth that you felt on your hand should have left by now, he should have been applying the lip balm, yet his hand instead was now resting atop your own. His chilled hand contrasted your warmer one as he grazed it carefully. You felt a shudder strike through your body at his touch, his eyes not daring to look away from yours.

And before you could analysis the situation any longer, a pair of tender lips were interlaced with your own, your eyes resting shut as you gave in almost immediately. His lips felt soft, really soft and the way they fit so perfectly with your own felt unreal. As he began to move his lips, you felt yourself melt at his touch. So gentle and innocent. Another hand stroked the side of your neck while simultaneously bringing it closer. There was light tug here and there at your lips as he switched between giving attention to your top and bottom lip. You never imagined him to be so merciful and caring during a kiss, but here you were experiencing it all first hand.

A warm wet tongue brushed against your lower lip taking in the fruity wax that coated them. The chapstick that had drowned your lips tasted exactly like mango, but better. The taste was sweet, with an artificial aftertaste but Denki loved every second of his exploration none the less. Not just because he finally got to taste one of the flavours, but because he got to drown in this blissful moment. Your plump lips pressed against his as they danced together in innocence. He bit your lower lip softly, sucking it carefully before releasing your lips from his.

All you could do was just sit there, dumbfounded with a rosy tint covering your face and lips. Your previously dry lips were definitely moisturised now, glazed in Denkis sweet touch.

“It tastes just like mango, kitten!”

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kaisa-ryo · 3 years

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Inumaki Toge NSFW Alphabet

Warning: English isn't my native language!

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*

A = Aftercare (What he likes after sex)

Fingering your hair is his favorite pastime. It doesn't matter if they are short or long, light or dark, he just loves the combination of your scent and your favorite shampoo. Yes. It is no less pleasant for him to draw in their aroma, so Inumaki always bumps into the top of your head and falls asleep, feeling this native smell. This is probably why he often dreams with your participation.

B = Body part (His favorite body part)

Hair. It is obvious.

How he is fascinated by the sight when they develop so beautifully in the wind, how the moonlight pours into them, and how incredibly alluring any touch seems to be. It's like teasing a lover by flattering his imagination. But damn it, when you give him full control over them, he feels great delight. Toge can spend hours doing your hair or putting it in a ponytail, admiring your bare neck, guessing the thoughts behind your back.

— And if we have a girl, will you also braid her hair?

You asked with a slight laugh.

— Salmon! Salmon!

C = Cum (Everything about sperm)

Most often in a condom.

Sometimes, of course, on one of the zones of your body, but with your permission. Because of the prices and the need to save money, you can certainly not copulate every day, but you want to get as much pleasure from the process as possible. Speaking specifically about you, then you do not mind that he came inside. The main thing is to properly configure yourself and him.

D = Dirty secret

He is in no other way connected with his kink, which you will learn about a little later.

When you're in the shower or away from the dorm, he takes your headphones and licks the earwax off. Yes, you heard right.

When you were walking with a friend, she couldn't stop complaining for ten minutes that her headphones need to be constantly cleaned, otherwise any music is hard to hear. You, of course, were surprised not to answer her. You have a slightly different thought - why have you never noticed your headphones are dirty? Anyway, you thought you were just lucky with them.

E = Experience

Small, but no less significant.

Watching porn to completely satisfy you seemed insufficient to him. Therefore, in order to have at least some idea of the peculiarities of the female body, he watched how it moves, studied gestures, facial expressions and even intonation, trying to make out what exactly you can get aroused from. The peculiarity was that in real life, body movements and their consequences are never as natural and simple as on a phone screen. For example, when you suck on him, his throat may dry out, from which you ask him to bring a glass of water. Or when you fuck for too long, and neither of you ever experienced an orgasm (this also happens), you just lie down on the bed, not even thinking that it is either of you. Simply because you are just tired.

In general, you both learn something new in sexual relations and experience new sensations almost every intercourse.

F = Favorite position

Most of all he prefers those in which no special effort is needed. For example missionary or "spoons". They do not require any incredible gymnastic skills and still allow you to conserve energy.

A special title is occupied by the pose from behind, where you put a pillow under the pelvis. A huge plus is that such a pose serves for "deeper penetration", so you both experience the same sensations of bliss: you are all Inumaki inside yourself, and he is your incomparable warmth and flesh.

G = Goofy (Serious at this moment?)

Undoubtedly.

We can say that he simply does not know how to fool around. He is serious and subtle to such an extent that even joking flirting with him seems a kind of perversion.

H = Hair (Is the hair okay?)

Frankly, you are not even sure that he has something growing there. But the whole secret is that he tries to pay as much attention to the groin area as possible. This is the only place that, perhaps, only you can see. It is worth paying special attention to it, isn't it?

I = Intimacy (Romance)

This is mainly a manifestation of material or spiritual signs. Moreover, the most common ones, for example, an offer to share food, hold the door, straighten the curls that have come out of his hair .., but he does it with such a disinterested and sincere expression that it immediately becomes clear that this is true love based on affection.

Perhaps to some extent this is just a game of contrasts, the goal of which is to win your heart completely and completely, but unfeigned attention forces it to be sincere. In fact, there is no need for him to play these dirty games, because he has long ago reached you in all his perfection, and, in fact, remains the dearest person for you.

J = Jack off (masturbation)

It happens.

It does not matter because of what exactly: your naked, half-naked body, clothes ..., absolutely everything drenches him from head to toe.

The heart is pounding like mad, there is a pleasant tickling in the stomach, breathing quickens, the eyelids begin to drop from such a pressure of mixed, but clearly pleasant feelings. The hand unauthorizedly reaches down to the pants and continues to rub the tip until all the precum has flowed out. Trembling muffled moans hammer into his ears, mixing with yours, which sound in his sexual fantasies.

Once you caught him doing this, but fortunately, you didn't even understand that he was masturbating then.

K = Kink

Have you ever seen people lick their partners' ears? I hasten to congratulate (or upset), Inumaki is one of them.

During sex, he always starts with this - licking and nibbling your ears. Starting from the scaphoid fossa and ending with the earlobe. Later, he will smoothly move to a climax, ending with the fact that he learns with the language more internal parts, like a storm a passage to the eardrums.

The more you are aroused by the rhythmic movement of his tongue, the more the waves of sexual energy spread throughout your body. Eventually you will begin to succumb to such unusual caresses.

L = Location (Favorite places to have sex)

Any where you are alone. The most commonplace are the kitchen table and bed. But his favorite is the bath.

Here you are sitting, huddled close to each other, then Inumaki for no reason, for no reason begins to caress you. Under the water, everything seems so sharp and shameless that you will not immediately understand whether you are really flowing or whether it is ordinary water. Plus, the bath has an advantage. It lies in the fact that you do not need to go to the shower after sex to put yourself in order, because you are already in the shower!

Toge knows how exhausted you are, so he will definitely go over your whole body with a washcloth, and this, believe me, will be extremely pleasant. Then you just fall asleep on his chest while he peers into your face, tickling him from time to time with the touches of soft fingers.

M = Motivation

Your persistence

He gets maddened by the way you touch and feel his torso as he stands with his back to you. He feels how your hand moves to his chest, and each time he moans with delight, as if he was touching your tender body, not you. And you slowly and carefully examine its relief, running your fingers into your pants and touching a tense member. Oh, how you smile in response to his sighs and groans. What he thinks about you at this moment, even scary to imagine. Do you want to know his thoughts? You can do this to the fullest while he stands in front of the mirror and watches how you feel his body, looking at his face, which he is diligently trying to hide. But nothing comes of it, because you come closer to his ear and whisper: "Close your eyes ..." He obediently closes, and you passionately lick his neck, and he again moans with bliss. Damn right, he needs it right now.

N = No (Which will not do)

Something that will make you uncomfortable.

Inumaki is a person who truly wants love. It is on this that all his thoughts, plans, desires are concentrated. But not on using your passion as a tool to achieve sexual pleasure. If he ever hurts you or loses you altogether, then most likely he will not find an object for his love and will remain empty and timid until the end of his days. And this will be the saddest thing in his life. That is why he wants to give you what you need in order to receive your love in the maximum amount,

O = Oral (Likes to receive or to give)

He tries with all his might to show that the guy is by nature a gentleman and idealist, but deep down he wants to get as much from you as possible. To do this, he tries to get all the pleasure from just one of your vulgar posture or appearance, the whole charm of which lies in the fact that he seems to be a normal action that does not cause orgasm even in the most dissolute, but still can cause something in between huge pleasure and deep shock. Such a difficult game, however, quite often happens if the guy realizes that you are completely open to his reach. And someday he will tell you about it, and you will probably laugh at it.

P = Pace

Able to suddenly accelerate, forcing you to take his fingers into your mouth. No matter how much you fuck, it will always come as a surprise to you, since a fast pace can appear at any moment, even at the very beginning.

Q = Quickie

Changeable. He chooses when he should accelerate. Even if there is nothing left to your general orgasm, it may slow down, on purpose, so that you begin to sigh heavily and beg to "be faster."

R = Risk (Ready to experiment)

He does not like to talk about it, so, most likely, he is not ready. Inumaki is not afraid that everything will go through the same place as to harm you.

If he ever gets such an opportunity, he will show the cross with his hands. Even if somewhere in the depths of his soul he wants to do this, he will mentally slap himself in the face and say “no” to himself several times.

Yes, you are a very active person and you will always look for something new in order to try it soon, for which he fell in love with you. From the part. But at the same time, the guy knows very well that if something goes wrong, it will already be his fault that he did not have time to change his mind and refuse in time.

S = Stamina

On average, a couple of rounds are enough for him, and not to get tired, but to force your body to produce fluid. But this art is so subtle that it takes deep and long practice to master it. But Toge was able to "develop his own style" based solely on you. He knew by heart your movements, desires, weaknesses ... let's say, perfectly mastered your personal body language. And it does not take him long to bring you to the peak of pleasure.

T = Toys

Not an amateur.

When you offered him one just for a change, he frowned and shook his head. He does not consider it dirty, rather strange and completely unnecessary. He has a bad attitude not only to toys. When he first saw one of the varieties of BDSM, he reacted in much the same way.

U = Unfair (Does he like to tease)

Watching you wriggle with the desire for him to fuck your convulsing hole must be an incredibly exciting sight for him. Especially when you, wagging your hips, cum on his fingers, so that he immediately licks your lubricant dry. And you, mixed with an incredible sense of bliss, fuck his cock until you are exhausted, because this is the only way to somehow thank him for the affection.

Preludes are what Inumaki is really good at.

V = Volume (How loud is it)

Quite loud. For him, this is such a small complex that he tries to hide, biting your shoulders and collarbones, in order to drown out his own groan at least a little. But you think it's cute and you have already told him about it more than once, but he still continues to be embarrassed by his own voice. Perhaps he himself is embarrassed to hear the loud sounds that he is capable of making, because most of the time he is quiet as a mouse. But despite this, he is pleased that you, unlike him, do not take it as something informal or out of the ordinary.

W = Wild card (Random headcanon)

That night you fucked for quite a long period of time, because you, apparently, under the influence of your teenage hormones, decided to spend the whole day on how to drive him crazy with all the excitements that you know how to drink with the pathogen dissolved in water. You no longer remember what exactly your vicious hormones wanted: extra attention or the knowledge of what his maximum could be. In any case, you didn’t regret doing it.

Due to this, you guys had to sleep three hours more than you need to. As a result, both were late for training.

Who knew that Satoru Gojo was peeking into students' rooms !? Although it was obvious, nobody really thought about it.

— Hmm. What are all the same infinite adolescents are. Apparently I underestimated them. - picking up the used condom from the floor and grinning happily Gojo said.

Since then, the teacher from time to time, with an already annoying smile from her endless amount, glanced at you. But knowing that one person knew about it, it was already impossible to say for sure that someone else would not know about it either. In the end, secrets were useless to hide. Sooner or later, everyone would look askance at you. After all, an interesting couple, a strong shaman and a little vulgarity.

X = X-ray (What's under the clothes)

13 cm, during erection ± 0.5

Y = Yearning (How high is the sex drive)

I will not deny that Toge finds you sexually attractive. Yes, he would like to be alone with you as much as possible. He knows that in a way he considers you to be his weakness. He understands that you, like a fallen star, can ignite in him not only passion, but also a thirst for euphoria. But Toge has no doubt that you are in the hands of someone who can protect you. Even from myself.

Sex is a good solution to remind you that both of you can be more vulnerable to each other, that you both have strengths and weaknesses, that one of you can show more than if he was like an open book. And, undoubtedly, each of you wants to experience this feeling at least once a week. But you and Inumaki do not forget that everything has its own measure. I have long been aware that soon frequent sex can affect your contraception, your health and sincerity (you can forget why you are doing all this). And in general, there is no need to do this too often in your relationship. Realism, what else to add?

± 5/10

Z = Zzz (How quickly falls asleep)

It depends on how much the process exhausted him. As already mentioned, his endurance is much higher than, for example, yours. Therefore, for some indefinite rest of the time, he will look at your relaxed face, tuck a lock of hair behind your ear or stroke your bare shoulder. If your body decides to turn its back on it, it is unlikely that it will immediately stop touching you. Only after his hands pass from your shoulders to your hips and back, he will want to kiss you on the neck or on the cheek. And then he can easily make your body return to its previous position in order to spend several hours in an intoxicating bliss.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*

#jjk #jjk imagines #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk inumaki #alphabet

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onenerdtwonagas · 4 years

Text

Cultural Exchange

It had been nearly a month since the demigod moved in to Uriah’s apartment, and yet it didn’t feel nearly as odd as the young man had expected. Lessons on human etiquette were going surprisingly well, and it only took a week for Orpheus to stop growling or flinching every time an appliance beeped, or a car horn sounded from the streets below. Learning to use said appliances, however, would still take time, but Uriah was at least confident that Orpheus knew not to try operating any of them on his own just yet. He wasn’t stupid, by any means, just very new to the advances of human technology. It was like teaching a toddler to read or spell for the first time.

That being said, feeding and caring for a naga demigod was not always so simple. Uriah could and absolutely did his best to make sure Orpheus got enough to eat, though it was making a bit of a dent in his grocery bill. Finding clothes for him for the first time was a trial, too; he couldn’t very well take Orpheus with him, so finding clothes meant buying various styles and brands and having to traverse the stores multiple times to return whatever wasn’t going to work. And it certainly tried his poor nerves having to watch Orpheus in so many snug shirts and pants. A man can only take so much.

All the extra food and shopping expenses meant more work was needed, and until Orpheus was versed enough in human culture to have a job of any sort, that meant overtime for Uriah. He felt terrible, not being able to spend more time with Orpheus, but bills didn’t stop coming just because he wished they would. When he came home, Orpheus was always waiting for him, smiling and boasting whatever he’d managed to accomplish on his ‘homework’ assigned by Uriah. The first day he’d managed to memorize the alphabet, he’d been practically giddy.

Uriah recalled that evening as he pulled out his keys and unlocked the door, smiling to himself. The eagerness in Orpheus’ eyes when he’d asked to be shown how to spell Uriah’s name... The last ‘assignment’ he’d been working on was handwriting. Uriah could only imagine how excited Orpheus would be to show off his improvements.

“Babe, I’m home!”

He re-locked the door and shrugged off his jacket, cracking his neck to the left, then the right. The lights in the kitchen were on low, but it was quiet. His brow perked.

“Orpheus?”

Silence answered him. Odd. Normally he’d be halfway smothered in coils at that point, doing his best to fend off an almost-too-affectionate naga. Uriah set his small work bag on the counter and smoothed out his t-shirt, glancing into the living room space as he rounded the corner to the hallway. The only other light on came from the partially-open bedroom door, which Uriah cautiously eased in to.

“...Orpheus?”

The naga didn’t respond. He was reclined on the bed, tail sprawled partially on the mattress before spilling out on to the floor, and surrounding him were about half a dozen sheets of paper and a discarded pen. His bare chest rose and fell slowly, sound asleep, practically dead to the waking world.

Uriah snuck past the lazily wound tail on the floor and peeked over at the papers. Glancing up to make sure he hadn’t disturbed his lover, he leaned over and pulled the pages one by one, and turned them over. They were absolutely littered with Orpheus’ rough, but mildly improved handwriting, with hundreds of attempts at spelling Uriah’s name. Uriah muffled a sheepish groan with the pages pressed to his face as he caught sight of several flocks of hearts scribbled around what he assumed were Orpheus’ favorite attempts.

Good God, he’s so...

Uriah slid the papers down and peeked at Orpheus, still dozing. Usually, Orpheus made it a point to be the last to fall asleep, either by convenient hypnosis or Uriah’s own exhaustion. He liked to, as he put it, watch how peaceful he looked. It was a sweet sentiment, if not terribly embarrassing. But for the first time, Uriah got a good look at his sweetheart in the vulnerable state of sleep, all of his features softened and at ease. He’d never taken in Orpheus’ features like that before. The gentle, natural curve of his mouth, the length of his eyelashes, the way his silver hair fell across his face...

Uriah carefully eased up on to the bed, setting the papers aside and sitting close to Orpheus. It struck him how absolutely, completely, infinitely fortunate he was, that a demigod would love him so much. That someone, anyone, mortal or otherwise, would leave their home to be with him, to take the time to learn his culture, to understand an entirely new society’s way of doing things. Orpheus, heir to an immortal title of Night God, loved him, a mere human, so much that he spent hours practicing how to write his name, and littering the spaces between with fond scribbles of affection.

He smiled, watched Orpheus for a few moments more, and then reached out to brush his hair behind his ear. The naga stirred, his breath catching for a moment before his eyelids lazily fluttered open. It was almost a shame to wake him.

“Hmm...? Uriah?”

“Hi.”

“You’re home,” he said thickly, blinking. “What time...?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Orpheus shifted, looking up at Uriah. Something came to him.

“Oh. Oh, I uh—“ He stifled a yawn, barely hiding his fangs. “—practiced your name today. I wanted to show you.”

“I saw,” Uriah chuckled. He held up the papers briefly. “You must’ve been at it for a while.”

“Guess I was. Fell asleep doing it.”

He cocked his head slightly when he noticed Uriah’s eyes hadn’t left his face.

“What is it?”

“You,” Uriah said simply.

“Me? Do I have ink on me somewhere, or something?”

“No. It’s just... I realized how lucky I am, with you.”

Uriah stroked the line of Orpheus’ cheekbone with his thumb.

“How lucky I am to have met you, and that you love me, and how unbelievable it is that you’re mine. And you’re doing so much to learn how to live with me.”

Orpheus turned his face in to Uriah’s palm and nuzzled affectionately.

“I’d do anything for you, love.”

He shifted to sit up, but Uriah placed his hand on his chest.

“No, stay there. I want to enjoy this,” Uriah whispered, leaning over him. “Having a demigod all to myself...”

Orpheus smirked up at him, resettling into the pillows as Uriah hovered over him. He purred as Uriah closed the space between them, lips meeting for a blissfully long, tender moment. Uriah’s fingers combed through his hair, taking his time drawing sighs out of the naga beneath him.

“Mm...Not that I’m not thoroughly savoring this, but aren’t you tired? You worked all day,” Orpheus murmured. He traced a finger along Uriah’s jaw.

“No. I’ve got time for you. Especially after how hard you studied today. Ive gotta ask, though, but what possessed you to add all those goofy hearts?”

“You call those little things hearts?”

“What did you think they were?”

“Well, I assumed they meant ‘love’, at least, but I didn’t know what they were called, exactly,” Orpheus admitted. His cheeks tinted a mildly purple hue as he blushed. “They...they do mean ‘love’, don’t they?”

Uriah forced himself not to laugh.

“Yes, that’s what they mean.”

He paused, only mildly aware Orpheus was still touching his face.

“Do your kind have a symbol like that?”

“A love symbol? Of course, but it’s nothing like the one you humans use,” Orpheus answered. His hand dropped from Uriah’s cheek to stroke a knuckle along his collarbone. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, I...just figure it’s only fair I learn about your culture, if you’re learning about mine.”

Orpheus’ smile grew a little wider.

“Let me see... Naga culture is fairly diverse, mind you, but there are a few universal words and symbols within our language.”

“Nagas have dialects?”

“Oh, dozens, hundreds. A naga from the desert will be infinitely different from one born in the mountains, or a river basin. And some will have accents within that.”

Uriah nodded.

“But the symbol for love tends to be rather similar, with just a little variation for some,” he continued. Orpheus’ hand dropped from Uriah’s collarbone to the center of his chest, a single claw tracing out the simple but twisting shape. He stared into Uriah’s eyes after, his gaze soft.

“That’s ‘love’. The two bound together, and space in the center containing all that is between them.”

Uriah felt warmth tingling across his face, and radiating beneath Orpheus’ finger where it remained on his chest.

“So...like this?”

He gently traced the same winding shape on Orpheus’ chest, looking into his face afterwards. Uriah wasn’t sure he’d ever seen the naga so smitten with him before.

“Just like that,” he praised.

“A-And, um...do you have a name for it, too?”

“We do.”

Orpheus bent up, his cheek brushing seductively against Uriah’s, and whispered into his ear in a language he couldn’t name. It was soft, lilting almost, with a silken hiss. He wouldn’t have been able to replicate it even if he tried, he was certain; no one could make it sound as sweet as it did coming off of Orpheus’ tongue. Uriah closed his eyes and repeated the gesture of the symbol on the naga’s chest.

“Say it again?” he asked shyly. Orpheus obliged and retraced the shape himself before kissing Uriah’s cheek, warm and affectionate.

“I-I wish I could pronounce that,” he confessed, a feather-light laugh escaping him.

“Maybe I can teach you,” Orpheus purred, beckoning Uriah back down with him. His strong arms wrapped around him, hands tracing over the man’s spine, coaxing his head onto his chest.

“It sounds beautiful. I’ve never heard you use that language before.”

“That’s the ancient tongue. It’s simplified quite a bit over the years, and in some areas I know we’ve mingled with human languages. Latin, for one, which sounds divine when you use it, by the way.”

“Oh, stop. I only know it for science jargon.”

“Divine jargon.”

They both shared a laugh, brief but sincere, before Uriah settled more comfortably against Orpheus. He loved laying with him like that, with his head over his heart, listening to his strong and steady pulse. Orpheus’ claws glided effortlessly through his curls, just barely ghosting against his scalp. Uriah loosely twirled a strand of his lover’s hair around his finger and let himself melt.

“I’m going to love learning with you. Every little thing.”

“I’d love nothing more.”

#onenerdtwonagas #not an ask #uriah #freckle muffin #orpheus #starry scales #freckles and stars #lit #lit post

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cabin-fever-bang · 4 years

Text

Campfire Stories (Vol. 1)

Welcome to the Cabin! We proudly present the first edition of Campfire Stories: your one-stop shop for quality quarantine content.

We’re going to do these regularly, with in-depth reviews of everything that’s been submitted as a prompt fill and additional recommendations from the masterlists of writers who get involved.

If you’d like to be one of those writers, just follow us, comb through our prompts, and be sure to tag us when you post! It’s that easy. We welcome all fandoms and pairings.

This batch of reviews was cooked up by @thoughtslikeaminefield (MJ), @there-must-be-a-lock (Lou), @itmighthavebeenintentional (Val), @fangirlxwritesx67 (Viv), @cracksinthewalls (Bri), and @mskathywriteswords (Kathy), but we encourage you to pass along the random acts of writer-love and reblog with your own additions!

Pull up a seat, toast a marshmallow or two, and settle in for some excellent reading material.

Choices We Make - @becs-bunker - GIF prompt submitted by @dawnie1988

Pairing: Demon Dean x Female Reader

Warnings: angst, brief threat & violence, smut, language, dub con-ish, unprotected sex, orgasm denial

Words: 1374

Everyone loves a Demon!Dean fic, and this is a good one! Lots of action, lots of angst, and some really hot, awful Dean.

Honestly it all felt like some surreal nightmare you couldn’t wake up from. You just wanted Dean back, your Dean.

These lines summarize both the Demon!Dean story arc and the narrator's frame of mind so well, pulling the reader right into the perspective of the story.

“I missed you, y’know?” Dean sighed, and the naive part of you wished he was telling the truth. That somehow, deep down, he still loved you.

This is heartbreaking because it's relatable, because the author does such a good job with the narrator's voice.

Dean licked his lips and there was a familiar hunger in his green eyes that made a whole different sensation rise in your body, and it wasn’t fear.

I'm not going to quote any more lines from the story because the author has written one hell of a twist, but trust me when I said, I gasped out loud reading it. The rest of this story is an absolute roller coaster, well worth the ride.

- Viv

Come For Me - @fangirlxwritesx67 - image prompts created and submitted by @idabbleincrazy

Pairing: Sam Winchester x female reader

Warnings: smut, canon level violence, fingering, first time together

Words: 3100

First, let’s talk about this aesthetic. It’s soft and beautiful, but stark and needy. I love the quotes and photos, the way they flow together. Fantastic visual prompt. "Sam Winchester?” He spoke in a theatrical, mocking tone. “Ooooh, I’m frightened." This line made me chuckle. I love the idea of what’s ahead of us. The bad guy is built up in a hilarious way. Sam is presented through the heart and mind of the narrator, you. But thinking of Sam suffused you with a warm confidence. Not for one moment did you doubt him. This confidence is contagious and warming. Meanwhile, the anxiety over the vampire lurking somewhere else, waiting to taste you… it builds in a beautiful and believable way. There’s a rush of emotions as Sam rescues you, and he’s patient and kind, even while making jokes and being the Sam you know and love. Things progress, and there’s a beautiful and sweet (okay, and hot!) sex scene, with a first time between Sam and you. All in all, a really solid piece, with some story, some tension, some sex, and a whole lot of sweetness.

- Kathy

A New Day - @becs-bunker - image prompt created and submitted by @there-must-be-a-lock

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Warnings: fluff

I’ve not reviewed an image prompt before, so let’s just jump in. The first word that jumps to my mind is light, but I love how suffused and golden the whole image is. Softer, safer, intimate. There are little pinpoints of light, rays of light, shining light, and the whole thing makes me feel...well...light. Sunrise and candlelight, new day, new beginnings.

The images chosen for Sam, the angles and features we get, are such close, personal angles and shots, giving us this tender atmosphere and setting the tone for this story: personal. Everything you're about to read is intimate, personal, and private, in such a lovely, delicate way.

The curtains in that first shot are so filmy and ethereal, and the whole story feels like it’s set in a kind of golden-hazed forest. And, let’s face it, any sort of vacation for a Winchester is a kind of fairy tale.

I’ve managed to stay pretty much above the brow, so Imma have to dip down for a minute and just drool over Sam’s trapezius muscles. Oh. MY. GAWD.

Golden, glorious, graceful, and just a touch of gooey. Good, good, good.

So, right off the bat, let me tell you that this story is everything I’ve ever wanted for Sam, like everything the show and Chuck and the universe has ever denied him. He’s rested, he’s comforted, he’s bathed in glow (the sun, the reader’s love, all that jazz, you know?).

And then it goes and hits all my camping weaknesses. I was literally just telling someone how I’m missing my camp more than ever now. It’s been eight years since I’ve been, and this story brings back all those feelings of serenity and calm, voluntary isolation with people you more or less chose, because camp was and is my forever real home.

I know that seems a little rambly and off-topic, but the thing is, that’s what this story is for me. They aren’t at the bunker, their “home,” but they’re still home all the same, because (and, yes, you can shoot me for this) home is where your heart is, so this wonderful little cabin in the woods is home, whether they’ve been there together once or a hundred times because Sam.

And then that bit of sugar tossed in at the end...Oh, this story was good for my soul. “Warm mug of coffee on a chill morning, under a blanket” kind of good for my soul.

It’s one of those where I would love to have so much more of these two, of this warmth between them, but I also am perfectly content to know them just in this one perfect moment forever, before the day starts, when everything is still in the “it’s about to happen and it will be great” stages. The beginning of a great new day.

Thank you. I needed this story, now more than ever.

- Val

Crash - @myinconnelly1 - requested by @adoptdontshoppets for @idreamofplaid aesthetic

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Warnings: smut, fluff

Words: 810

The first thing that draws my eye in the aesthetic is the linked fingers. I love pinky links (I’m sure there’s a less cutesy way to say it, but I like it; sue me). They’re sweet, and really personal. You’ve got super tough Dean Winchester who isn’t embarrassed or afraid of intimate, goofy gestures. In fact, I feel like that would one hundred percent be Dean in a relationship: Dean is a giant ball of goofy, intimate gestures.

I love the choices of relaxed, bearded Dean/Jensen paired with the casual, cool color palette immediately set me at ease. This isn’t going to be a terrifying, angsty ordeal. This is going to be calm, soothing, sensual.

And the roses, the sand, the surf, the candlelight, the pokey palm tree fronds...I can hear, smell, feel every bit of these images. The golden-pink wine...ugh. This whole experience is a trip to paradise.

I love how all five senses are emphasized and made equally important. It gives us so much more connection to the moment, makes it that much more intimate. The constant crashing of the waves in the background; the bittersweet chocolate; the cozy, homey image of the baking-wrecked kitchen followed by the much more erotic, candelit bedroom; and then the scent of the oil mixed with the warmth and strength of Dean’s touch.

I also love the level of comfort in the story. We have the cookies, a hard-core comfort staple. We have the warm, lazy beach setting. And the easiness these two have together: that’s the dream, my friend. I love how they have no trouble at all communicating what they want and need, how they are comfortable enough to be messy and cute and flirty and sexy, one right after the other.

And the description is so thorough, I have no trouble at all imagining myself there, in that wonderful, relaxing moment.

This story is relaxing, decadent, soothing, and fun all at once. I am a huge fan of the ending, as well. I was smiling through the whole story, but at the end, I literally laughed aloud. And now I think I’m going to have to excuse myself to go find some chocolate chip cookies. This story gave me a couple of cravings, and as Dean Winchester is in short supply in the real world, cookies are the one I can satisfy right now.

This story is, dare I say it, such a sweet escape.

- Val

No Sugar Added - @myinconnelly1 - requested by @fangirlxwritesx67 - “I’d like to see Steve Rogers from MARVEL sharing Depression-era coping tips. Maybe he vlogs how to make apple-less apple pie.”

No pairing

Warnings: Spoilers for Infinity Wars + Endgame, mention of mental health issues

Words: 446

This was my prompt for the Cabin, and I loved what this author did with the story! A little bit of fluffy cheer.

“Hello, I’m Steve Rogers. As many of you know, I’m also Captain America, and I was alive during another time of hard living conditions.”

Right now, a lot of things in the world seem scary and unsettling. It's one of those times when we turn for comfort to the lessons of the past, to the wisdom of generations, and to heroes. This author does a great job with Captain America, Steve Rogers. His cooking lesson is exactly the sort of inspiring, instructional video I would love to see.

“What is that smell?” Natasha asked as she looked behind her to see Steve walking into the office with the plate.

Because it was never about pie, apple or otherwise. It was always about comfort. Our favorite foods help with that, and so does Captain America, especially written this well.

There are some fun tidbits in this story, including a peek of history and an actual recipe!

- Viv

Communion - @thoughtslikeaminefield - requested by @mskathywriteswords “Fluffy dean or Jensen smoking weed plz, ty”

Pairing: Dean Winchester x unnamed female character

Warnings: marijuana use, high sex, het sex, fluffy smut

Words: 1002

How do I love this? Let me count the motherfucking ways.

First of all, the way this sucks you into the characters’ headspace is beautiful and subtle and masterfully done. It’s in the sentence structure and the flow of the words; there’s no need to describe their inner state, because it’s written into the movement of the sentences and the choice of words. She doesn’t have to say that they’re high, because you can fucking feel it in phrases like “It’s sending me off somewhere…” or “I shiver at the thoughts careening through my mind.”

Second, this is molten hot, but (as with the best smut) it’s not just some rote story of “then he was hard and we banged and it was great.” The sexy bits are unique; this isn’t the same smut you’ve read a thousand times before. It’s got its own personality and tone and voice that very much belong to this particular story.

Also? Filth with feelings! My favorite genre! It’s deeply emotional. I am all for smut that is both dirty and tender. This is like a masterclass on how to walk that line.

It’s such a simple premise that becomes so much more; this has things to say about Dean, about his personality, about this relationship. This takes a very specific moment and uses it as a framework for something big and meaningful. This, for example:

When Dean has to be big, he uses his whole self. His body takes up space and his mere presence -- he can make the darkest of demons shudder with his presence alone.

But Dean’s natural state is this -- nesting, nuzzling, curled up and warm.

Yuuuup.

Also:

His hands -- the same hands I’ve seen thrust a blade into the guts of angels and demons -- are tender, fingertips light but persistent as they slip under my tank top and splay over my belly.

It’s so intimate. This is why we read fanfic, right? To feel like we’re close to these characters that we love so much, to delve into the sides of them that we don’t get to see much in canon… this fic feels like something personal and private that we’ve been lucky enough to be let in on.

- Lou

Deeper Than Deep Conditioner - @fangirlxwritesx67 - requested by @awesomesusiebstuff “The two Sam’s (our Sam and AU Sam) maintaining their hair care routines while quarantined.”

It’s one of those days when I’m feeling too fragile for this world. What’s the best remedy to knock some sunlight into my dark mood? Today, it’s fic -- and one that makes me giggle is a bonus.

This little gem is filled with funny one-liners and side-eye moments to make you laugh out loud:

Dean dreamed of driving away, of bikini beauties on the beaches of Rio. Sam dreamed of scarves and what it would be like to have no bigger worries in the world than his hair.

The look Dean gave him would’ve curdled milk, if there was any, which there wasn’t, because Dean took his coffee black, like a man.

A touch of realism in this bizarro situation got a chuckle, too:

“Sorry, sweethearts,” alt!Dean said, “Flights are all cancelled. A virus or something.”

When Viv named the alternates Deano and Sami, I gave in and embraced the madness. I was delighted with Deano; that’s my own nickname for Dean in my head. But Sami, a most pretentious twist on Sammy? A master stroke. I was tickled.

I was fully on board with enjoying this romp through the bizarro world, but then I was taken by surprise. This little moment, a hint that Sam has been trying to make the best of their circumstances, touched me:

“Is this really how you live?” said Sami, with a dismissive glance at his paper napkin.

“Look,” Sam answered. “I’ve done my best. It’s taken a lot to get us this far.”

I was prepared for that to be the exception to the rule -- a moment of sincerity amongst a sea of lighthearted fun. And there was plenty of fun ahead of me. The jokes come at you hard and fast in this story! But I realized the mood was steadily changing, and suddenly, I was immersed in sincerity and maybe a little sadness:

...somewhere out there, was a universe where he pampered himself...

...maybe there was a place where he could enjoy something as simple as a deep condition...

...something Sam had wanted to watch but never had time for...

...for the first time in a long time, he caught himself laughing...

I thought maybe that was it. A few moments of Sam learning to appreciate what Sami (I was still laughing at that) had to offer, instead of simply mocking his manbun and scarf (I don’t think I could ever stop mocking that, but Sam’s a better person than I am).

But no. It didn’t end there, and I still wasn’t ready. Before I knew it, I was steeped in Sam’s melancholy, his yearning for a life kinder and gentler than what he’d been given. I was truly heartbroken for him in that moment.

I won’t spoil the rest, but by the time I got to the ending, I was grateful for the funny beginning that softened the landing. I expected a comedy, but what I got really was deeper than deep conditioner.

- Bri

Dear Mr. Fantasy - @itmighthavebeenintentional - image prompt submitted @thoughtslikeaminefield

Warnings: SEASON 15 SPOILERS, bit of angst.

Words: 2157

I found the image prompt in my Tumblr feed and immediately started plotting ideas that I cannot write bc I have too many fucking WIPs so imagine my excite when one of my all-time favorite fic writers (and one of my very best friends) filled the prompt as a surprise for me!

Val tells stories with a depth and humor like no one else I’ve ever read. Her natural wit and smarts shine through her fictional words as well, and I love seeing glimpses of her in her work.

In one universe, someone neglected Baby (couldn’t have been Dean, had to’ve been Sam) to the point where she pulls slightly to the left. Dean spends the morning after that dream with a muscle tick in his cheek and a suspicious, side-eyed glare for Sam that he never bothers to explain.

Dear Mr. Fantasy is bittersweet. It is soft and rich and full of color — all the senses are here. It’s a sledgehammer of realism wrapped in velvet. And it’s so very Dean.

At forty-eight years old (none of that years young bullshit, either; he’s old, and he’s goddamn earned it)

In the midst of reading canon Dean dreaming of and admiring and protecting his favorite of his AU-selves and that version’s life, we are treated to what it would be like if he was allowed a normal life. Our devoted, brave, warm, and loving hunter as a common mechanic would be just as brave and loyal, no?

“Pretty sure she’s settled on ya, so just make sure you’re worth it.”

So that’s what Dean did.

But our Dean — the Real Dean as Chuck says — can’t quite let his guard down even in his dreams of another world, even if that other world is safe as houses. He’s still aware of just how unreal this reality is.

Splashes of indigo and orange paint the horizon, framing her approach in a wash of colors blending into shadows that hold no danger.

Then, he lets himself mingle with that dream, if only for a few moments and it’s bliss.

Older Dean and worn-out, monster-plagued Dean sigh together, content down to their bones. This life is it for both of them. She is it. One Dean still can’t believe his amazing luck after all these years, and the other aches at the simple, total happiness he feels honored to witness.

I love you, she whispers, and he allows himself to believe for one moment that she’s talking directly to him.

I’m not going to spoil anything for you, but I will say that you need some tissues. I cried through 90% of this story, from joy and from heartache.

Because that’s what Valerie does, breaks your heart and makes you smile, and it is so fucking good.

- MJ

Synesthesia - @there-must-be-a-lock - request by @wendibird “SPN, Sastiel, due to all the Angelic Grace Sam has been exposed to over time, he starts resonating with Castiel’s. Especially if Cas’ emotions are running high.”

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Castiel

Warnings: none!

Words: 750

First, I love the song that enhanced this idea for Lou. It lends a tenderness and whimsy to the plot that isn’t inherent.

Second, Lou’s words are like poetry and watercolor doing a dance of their own making — GORGEOUS phrasing and rhythm.

Cas whirls around, and Sam is hypnotized by the bright blue in his eyes, wide and concerned in a way that makes Sam feel like he’s being lit up from the inside. There’s a floodlight in his chest.

And, y’all, I don’t even go here, but I swooned SO HARD.

It’s an effort to focus, but when he meets Cas’s eyes, Cas smiles. Sam sees a shower of sparks like the last fizzle of a firework.

Sam hears it as a flutter of spring green like a new leaf.

And Lou’s characterization is always spot on, right? But like Dean isn’t even in the scene, yet here we are.

Don’t let the words fool you; there’s a very angry rainbow happening in his head most of the time.

And did I mention the ARTWORK that is this woman’s WORDS?

There are stars under their feet, entire galaxies spinning out around them, dancing spirals of kaleidoscopic green and gold melting into whorls of brilliant blue.

Anyway, please go read. You’ll be flying high for hours afterward. xox

- MJ

Salvation - @dontshootmespence - image created and submitted by @idabbleincrazy

Pairings: Sam Winchester x reader

Warnings: angst, torture, gore, smut

Words: 1,401

The aesthetics by this artist inspire stories just because they are so well done. This one was a good balance of handsome Sam and some nice suggestive pics along with the phrases that helped shape the action of the story.

This story feels like an episode of the show from earlier seasons, just the right balance of angst and monster fighting with tantalizing peeks of smut and feels. Excellent job!

There are no words that come close to explaining what she means to him. How she saves what soul he has left.

These flashback scenes are both hot and tender. The voice the author gives to Sam is spot on, achingly familiar.

"You're Sam Winchester, the boy with the demon blood."

It's easy to forget, sometimes, all the things that Sam has been and done, how fearsome of a hunter he is. This story reminds us with razor sharp precision.

When he meets her gaze, he finds the peace he's craved for so long.

The contrast between the flashbacks and the action is painfully good.

What’s more frightening, a man like Dean, practiced in his violence out of necessity? Or a man like him, on the verge of losing everything and nothing left to lose?

This is a well drawn distinction between the Winchester brothers, and such a good characterization of Sam!

"You're safe with me, Sam. You never have to hide from me."

Such a beautiful relationship between Sam and this woman! It's no wonder he's fighting so hard to save her.

This story has an imaginative plot, fast paced action, some sweet hotness, and such a good Sam!

- Viv

The Second Hand Unwinds - @mskathywriteswords - image prompt created and submitted by @there-must-be-a-lock

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Warnings: hurt, comfort, angst

I had a vibe in mind when I created this aesthetic but this went so far beyond anything I could’ve imagined. It absolutely nailed that nostalgic, wistful, antique-photo-album feel, and then it managed to knife me in the fucking gut in a few ways, none of which I saw coming.

The JOY in the first part of this is absolutely tangible. It’s so romantic and sweet in a very dreamy way that feels exactly like first love. I love the scattered, disjointed imagery around the flowers in the first part, like flashes of memories coming at you all at once, and then when it settles into the narrative it manages to hold onto that dreamy feeling while still moving neatly through the plot.

This moment was about us, and I wanted to live in it forever. You never gave me reason to cover my body, not that night or ever.

Goddamn right. Ugh, precious and beautiful. And then this:

After so much undiluted time together, I had no idea how to sleep alone. I felt raw waking up by myself, not being able to feel your stubble tickling my skin.

There’s something about that last line that just grabbed my heart and tugged it in a wonderful way. It’s ACCURATE, first of all; this is one of those super-specific feelings that is hard to describe concisely. I haven’t really thought about that feeling in a while, but that little sentence just cut through so many years and brought me right back in a deep and visceral way.

You took pride in doing all the things that were never done for you, you’d told me.

Ouch. It’s little touches like this that make this ring true to character even though it’s a very different Dean than we see in canon.

And then that ENDING.

How do you contain a bomb once it’s been set on fire with grief?

Fuck, dude. Everything about that ending was so painful. I love that she left it raw and messy and not like a simple “welcome back!” kinda moment.

This was just gorgeously done. Can not recommend it enough.

Fort - @there-must-be-a-lock - prompt by @mskathywriteswords “Fluffy dean or Jensen smoking weed plz, ty.”

Pairing: J2 x reader

Warnings: blowjobs and weed.

Words: ~2150

This piece of deliciousness opens with Jensen walking out of the bathroom with a towel on his hips; do I need to say more? I don’t, but I will. After some beautiful description of the blanket fort, we get treated to Jared in nothing but pajama pants. The descriptions in this piece are vivid and full. the way Jared’s hand looks between Jensen’s muscled shoulderblades, thumb stroking back and forth between patches of gold and red light, makes me want to capture the moment and hold onto it. I can see that image in my mind, picture the two of them together, and that’s what makes excellent writing for me. The warnings attached to this piece are fully applicable; the story is very cute and sweet, there’s weed, and there’s Jared and a wicked oral fixation, which in the case of this one-shot means dear Reader, that’s you, get to witness a searing blowjob from one J to another. The way these three interact makes my heart swell, and there’s something about watching the dynamic change between them that really hammers home just how functional they are together. Dive in to this universe, Everything. There are no regrets to be had, maybe only that you waited so long to get wet.

- Kathy

The Gazelle - @thoughtslikeaminefield - requested by Anonymous “I’d really love some more Dean x Benny fanfiction, AU, aligned with canon timeline, whatever. I think they deserved a chance and Benny got killed off before it could even be explored :(”

Pairing: AU Dean Winchester x AU Benny Lafitte x unnamed female character

Warnings: power exchange, mmf threesome implied, Denny apparent, nudity

Words: 1000

Let me start with a caveat: I’m in the bag for pretty much any Dean x Benny fic, pretty much any Dean x Benny x person #3 fic, and absolutely any MJ fic. So you could stop reading this review right now and just go read the fic, if you want; in fact, I sort of recommend it, because it’s better than anything I could have to say about it. But if you want to stick around, I promise to be a little more coherent than ZOMGGGG PERFECT HOT SEXY TIMES DENNY LOVE GORGEOUS MORE PLZ!

Before we even get to the words, we’ve got a gorgeous graphic. Black and white beautiful boys, staring you down with those “I’m gonna fuck you so good” eyes, paired with a sweetly sexy woman tinted with a soft pink; she looks carefree, open to have some fun, and you can imagine her telling them to bring it on. MJ’s graphics are always great, setting the perfect mood for her fics, and this is no exception.

And right from the jump:

Dean and me — we share a lot of things.

We share good music and good drink. Tonight, we’re sharing a good woman.

Oh, this is in Benny’s voice?! Okay okay okay, cool cool cool, I can handle this…

...Dean purrs like a jungle cat as he hovers behind her, hands in her hair, twisting and twirling the silky tresses…

...Dean sets the pace and is the anchor, always. He keeps everything stable and grounded…

And now I’ve realized that I’m going to be seeing Dean through Benny’s eyes -- and no, not cool, can’t handle this -- but I’m definitely not stopping.

I like to mix things up, though, and he lets me.

MJ is a brilliant writer with many talents, but I think her specialty, regardless of what characters she’s writing with, is brilliantly salacious smut that’s steeped in emotion. She can’t help it. Her fucks come with feels, every single time, and I hope it never changes.

This piece is certainly no exception. Dean and Benny are circling their prey, this unnamed woman, utilizing their individual strengths -- Dean’s encouraging, I’m demanding -- and the sexual tension is building with soft touches and lingering kisses. As the scene is progressing, Benny’s inner monologue is sprinkled with thoughts about Dean:

Times we don’t have a subject, Dean’s focus is on me. I don’t argue and I do not complain. Dean knows what to do with every inch of that long, lean body of his. He knows how to cage a person in, make them feel safe, wanted, fucking needed.

She’s handily building emotion and a personal backstory without an exposition dump, without taking focus away from the action for too long:

His hands move slowly, seemingly random, but I know how focused he is on her and the moment. Giving and seeking pleasure are vital things to Dean and he takes the acts to heart.

I’m immersed in the now of this scene but I also understand the depth of their feelings for one another, their history and dedication to each other, and how they work together to bring another partner into their orbit. MJ makes it look easy, when it’s anything but.

And then she gifts us with this perfection and I’ve melted into a puddle of emotionally aroused goo:

“You promise to love, honor, and cherish ‘til the morning light, Dean?”

That is a vow of devotion to a one-night stand. What?! How?! Does her brain come up with this?

From there, the scene continues, the action escalating, supported by a framework of realism and heart. Her Dean feels familiar and in character, even though we’ve never seen him in this particular situation. And Benny, we hardly knew ye, but she brings him to life alongside Dean and I buy their relationship completely. I buy all of this, and now I’m invested.

And then…

“Do it, then,” she says, challenging. “Wreck me.”

My breath catches, my heart starts to race -- yes, here we go! -- a few more sentences, one last connection between Dean and Benny, and then --

Oh, you are evil, MJ. You are so perfectly evil and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

- Bri

#random acts of love #cabin-fever-bang #cabin fever bang #fanfiction #fic rec #rec list #bear hugs #welcome to the cabin #campfire stories #writers supporting writers

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hanalwayssolo · 4 years

Note

Okay, well played with the angst my friend. Let's see you do Rafe x Leti now with number 1. Because 1am words can either be fluffy or angsty. 🌞🌞🌞

@oc-musings challenge accepted 😘

1. Things you said at 1am

“Please don’t tell me you haven’t tried this, too.”

In the midst of this warm, Friday night made brilliant by the threads of fairy lights, the countless stalls, and the massive ferris wheel that illuminates like a beacon against the dark sky, Leti is staring at Rafe, arms folded over her chest, as if waiting to pass her judgment as they stand in front of a photobooth. What she said was obviously a statement already, but when she narrows her eyes at him, he should have known better that she is clearly waiting for an answer.

Rafe raises his hands in resignation, huffs a small laugh. “Fine, fine—I haven’t tried one of these… things,” he admits with a sheepish smile. Somehow, he begins to hate his horribly sheltered upbringing. He sighs. “But okay, in my defense, it’s because—“

“Alright—“ Leti excitedly loops an arm around his, beams brightly that the smile on her face makes his heart race a little bit faster— “better late than never! C’mon!”

And so she tugs him along, squeezing themselves together inside the booth, limbs awkwardly adjusting into the space as Leti fishes out a couple of loose change from the pocket of her jeans and feeds it into the machine. They are so close that Rafe can smell the scent of her perfume, something that has become so familiar to him in the three weeks he has spent with her.

And in those weeks—those awfully amazing weeks of his life, if he can be perfectly honest—he can no longer imagine his life without having Leti in it.

“Okay,” says Leti as she shifts in her seat, fixing her hair a little, “I want you to smile and not look murderous, got it?”

Rafe frowns. “And since when do I look murderous—“

“Exactly what you’re doing now—hey, ready!”

Snap, snap, snap. Leti flashes a bright smile, and Rafe obliges to do the same. Awkwardly. Still, he tries. He manages to not look murderous (at least, in his head, he isn’t) and how he’s able to do it, he does not know. Maybe it’s because no one makes him smile or cracks him up the way Leti does. She does it so effortlessly that he eases on the ones that come after. He hooks an arm around her shoulder on the next snap, laughs herself silly when he pulls a goofy face. More silly expressions. More affectionate gestures. Her face on his shoulder. His lips on the crown of her head. Cheek on warm cheek. They try another pose but their heads bump against one another that they both groan in pain. Then they burst out laughing.

“I’m so sorry for making you do all this!” Leti is still giddy with laughter, her cheeks tinted pink. Her face is so close to his now that he can feel the warmth of her sweet breath.

“It’s fine,” says Rafe as he tucks a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. He tries his hardest not to let his eyes drift over her mouth, but he only fails miserably. “You’re too good to me, you know that?”

Leti exhales a soft chuckle. “Actually, I don’t.” Her voice is close to a whisper. “But thanks for letting me know.”

They look at each other, saying nothing for an excruciating while. The silence that settles between the tiny measure of air that separates them thrums. Scintillates. He catches her staring at his lips, the same way his gaze falls back again at hers that this time, the simple question that he’s been wanting to ask all night spills from the tip of his tongue.

“Will you be my girl?”

Leti looks at him and nods. “Yes,” she says, beaming. “Now and always.”

Rafe sighs, smiles. Genuinely smiles. The kind of smile that hurts his face and makes his heart pound wildly against his chest. Now and always. He has never felt anything like this before in his life and he sure as hell wouldn’t trade this for anything else. And as he presses his forehead against hers, her face still aching from smiling, he asks:

“May I?”

Leti laughs. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Rafe does it slowly. Takes her face in his hands, gently brushing her bottom lip with his thumb. One may be inclined to think that he lacks the ability for tenderness, but here, way past midnight in this tiny space of the photobooth in a nearly empty amusement park, he kisses Leti as if she is made of porcelain. As if she is made of cities he’s never been, made of places that feels like home. For the first time he is ready to beg. Let me be yours. He will kneel before her if she asks. He will love her fiercely until he doesn’t know how, until it no longer makes sense.

send me a ship and one of these and i’ll write a minific

#replies #my writing #uncharted #rafe adler #not my oc #oc: leticia cruz #rafe adler x oc #otp: rafe adler x leticia cruz #this is my first time writing rafe & in his pov so this became rather tricky!!#so i’m pretty sure this is ooc & i’m so sorry!!

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levi-inthesun · 5 years

Text

Awakening- Chapter 2

Summary: June (Juniper) works at the New York Public Library where she reads to kids once a week, otherwise she’s shelving books, checking out books for patrons, and catching the eye of one Steve Rogers.

Pairing- Steve x Juniper (OC)

(gif is not mine)

After your first date, things seemed to keep getting better. Steve opened up to you about who he was, grateful you let him decide how and when he would tell you despite the fact that you had known who he was. He was infinitely grateful he could just be himself around you, just Steve. You were completely pleased he felt safe enough around you to let down his guard.

“So, Juniper,” Steve called to you from the kitchen. You sat up from where you had been lying on the couch. “I was… I was thinking maybe you could meet my friends?” he nervously posed.

“Really?” you asked, touched that even though it had only been just over a month Steve wanted you to meet the people he considered family.

“Uh, yeah I mean, if you want to, you don’t have to” he backtracked slightly, worried you’d reject his offer.

You hopped over the couch and ran over to him, squeezing in between him and the counter, jumping up to sit on it so that you were closer to his height. You placed your hands on either side of his cheeks.

“Steve,” you said with a soft smile.

“Yeah?”

“I would be honored to meet them,” you left chaste kisses on his cheeks, nose, and forehead before capturing his lips with your own.

Steve picked you up with his motorcycle.

When he walked you outside he saw the worried look on your face.

“Hey,” he said gently turning around, “I can get a car if you would be more comfortable,” he smoothed out the worry lines on your face and looked deeply into your gray eyes, looking for some sort of answer.

You took in a deep breath, “No, I have always wanted to ride a motorcycle and I’m not going to let my anxiety talk me out of it.” you said as you approached the bike. “Plus,” you added pulling him closer to you, “out of anyone on this planet, and probably others, I don’t trust anyone more than I trust you.”

Steve leaned in kissing you sweetly, a huge, goofy grin spread over his face as he pulled away.

You guys made it to the Avengers Compound way faster than you’d ever imagined, even on a motorcycle.

Steve helped you off and ran his fingers through your long messy hair, “How was that?” he asked.

“Crazy,” you stated. “And insane. And so awesome.” you finished, causing Steve to laugh at your excitement.

“Wonderful,” was all he said back and led you into the compound.

It had only been 10 minutes since introductions had been made and you felt as if you had all known each other forever.

“No way,” you said cackling as you looked over to Steve, “Did you really?” you asked, trying desperately to compose yourself.

Steve shook his head, “Oh man, you guys, I ask one thing of you all, and what do you do? Do the thing I asked you not to do!” he exclaimed, trying his best to not laugh as he watched you double over and snort. Everyone just shrugged, “Whatever. And yes, during the Battle of New York instead of just taking out an alien with my shield, I jumped up and kicked him with both legs in the neck… It really isn’t that funny.”

You wiped the tears away that had formed from laughing so hard for so long. “You’re right babe, it isn’t funny at all,” you said sarcastically as you tried, but failed to stop laughing.

After playing a drinking game or two, Sam stood up in the middle of the living room.

“I have an announcement!” he called out to everyone, “Ssshhhh,” he said harshly, spitting as he tried to quiet everyone down. “Okay, we are going to watch a movie, I have decreed it!”

They let you pick the movie since you were the guest, and they were all curious about what your taste in films was.

“Okay!” You finally said, everyone turned to look at you causing you to feel self-conscious. “Uh, well it’s October now, so we are going to watch one of my favorite ‘spooky-ish’ movies,” you gave everyone a huge grin and pressed play, the beginning of Coraline filling the room.

“Hey, you,” Steve whispered in your ear. You turned to get a better look at him and hummed in reply. “Are you having a good time?” he asked, “We aren’t overwhelming you or anything?”

You nuzzled closer to him, “I am having the best time and I love all of them,” you whispered back.

Steve placed a soft kiss on your temple and went back to watching the movie.

The next morning you woke up to the smell of coffee and waffles. Groaning slightly as you stretch, you blink your eyes open to see Steve laying down facing you, a tender look in his eyes.

“Hi,” you said, your voice small. You always felt vulnerable in the mornings and Steve thought it was the cutest thing.

“Hi,” he said back softly. “I have breakfast,” he said motioning to the large tray he had put at the end of the bed.

“Mmm why are you so good to me, Rogers?” you asked as you reach down a take a sip of coffee.

“That’s too easy a question,” he said matter of factly, rolling his eyes at you playfully.

“Oh? If it is such an easy question, Sir, why don’t you answer it?” you replied cheekily.

Steve stole the bit of waffle you were holding between your fingers and popped it in his mouth.

“Well, Juniper, the first part of my answer is that I would do anything for you, so of course I’m going to be good to you. You deserve the world,” the seriousness and warmth of his tone did not go unnoticed by you. “The second part of my answer,” he said leaning in just close enough that his face was just inches away, but far enough that he could look into your swirling gray eyes. “The second part is that I love you.”

Steve did his absolute best to engrave the way you smiled at him, how your eyes teared up, the gentle way you told him you loved him too, and how tenderly and passionately you kissed him back in his memory forever.

You began spending more and more time at the Avengers Compound after that, and Steve had a strong inkling that his teammates like you more than they liked him, but then again, so did he. He loved watching you form bonds with the people he had chosen as his family, especially with Bucky.

“Yo, Buck!” you yelled out across the kitchen, grape in position.

Bucky turned quickly and as soon as he realized what you were doing he yelled back, “Juuune no!” even though he was already in position to catch it in his mouth, which he did.

“Ohhh! And he catches it!” You cheered from your spot and Bucky held up his arms triumphantly, “That has got to be a world record, James!” you exclaimed.

“Yeah?” he said, intrigued, “Shall we call them up now and have it put in the book?” he asked, feigning seriousness.

“Oh, we shall!” You exclaimed back, before leaning back against the counter and giggling.

Steve had watched the whole thing from the hallway, not wanting to interrupt. It always surprised him when Bucky reacted positively to you calling him James. You may be the only one. But then again, there are certain things that each of the Avengers allow you, even welcome you in doing that if anyone has done it, they’d rip them a new one.

It was as if you could sense exactly what each of them needed. Bucky was touch starved, and never shied away from the gentle touch you gave him as you walked by, or a squeeze of the hand, or a hug. Sometimes you if you were walking past each other, you would stop him, cradling his face in your hands and give him this look that let him know that he was enough, that he was worthy.

You were the only one who could get Tony to sit down and eat or drink something. You even got him to take a nap once and with Pepper’s help, switch him to decaf coffee.

You had a similar thing with Nat that you did with Bucky. You would reach out and grab her hand, play with her hair if she was sitting next to you, and pull her into your arms where she would let you just hold her. It was a vulnerability he had never seen from the spy.

Dr. Banner always seemed calmer around you, less on edge. Peter seemed as if he was taking his first breath when you were around and his burdens seemed lighter. Loki was seen, heard and was made a priority by you, especially when the others were avoiding him. Thor seemed like he could finally relax, the weight of all of Asgard melting from his shoulders. With Wanda, you had some connection with the witch that was unlike anything else. Almost like you had a perfect understanding with one another and communicate without talking (Wanda could do that anyway, but it was different with you).

And then there was him. Somehow, even though you found a way to make everyone feel loved and at peace and important, you never neglected doing those things for Steve.

“June?” he asked one night as you laid in his arms.

“Hmmm?” you hummed.

“Do you ever grow… tired, exhausted from doing so much for everyone else? How do you do it?” he asked honestly.

It was silent for a moment while you thought, “I don’t know how to explain it, but I feel like there is something in me that makes it easy and I somehow just know what to do or say.” you answered finally.

Steve smiled sadly into the darkness, “You didn’t answer my first question, doll. Is it exhausting?”

You started chewing on your lip but Steve stopped you, smoothing his thumb lightly over your lips and around your face, tracing your features.

“Yeah, it can get really draining sometimes,” you said exhaling deeply as he continued to trace your face. “But then I go meditate and after I find out that Sam tried to make a food I mentioned I really liked, but then we end up ordering it take out because he can’t bake for shit,” you giggled. “Or Bucky will pull out old photographs and tell me things he’s remembered about before, with you. My favorite though is when on those incredibly draining days, you get home from a mission. Steve, you have a way of helping me feel not only completely loved and safe, but I feel strong and powerful… I have no way of explaining it, but even if you’ve had a bad day and need some extra lovin’, you still seem to fill me up when I’m on empty.”

Steve leaned over a kissed your hair. “I feel the exact same, darling.”

You and Steve spent the rest of the evening playing card games, which always turned into strip poker when it was just the two of you.

You fell asleep peacefully in his arms, but woke up agitated, the dream you had had impacting you deeply.

You were floating through the sky, the gentle breeze caressing your cheek. You looked out at the land passing beneath you and all you could see was sorrow. You saw Bucky, Nat, Sam, Clint, Tony, Bruce, and Peter. As much as you searched, you couldn’t find Steve. You did, however, find yourself. You looked as if you had been completely unraveled, while at the same time you were radiating a power and strength you had never known.

Chapter 3 will be posted in the next few days :)

#steve rogers x oc #steve rogers fanfiction #Steve rogers x juniper #avengers fanfiction #oc x avengers #Steve Rogers Fanfic #fluff #angst coming soon #fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #Marvel Universe

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backalley-requests · 5 years

Note

Hey! Can I get a ship request for the 100 and MCU? Thank you! I’m a short female with long black hair and bangs, I have green eyes and wear glasses. I’m pretty smart and quick witted but usually try and stay away from conflict. I’m really into music and play the piano and violin. I have anxiety and I’m terrified of being left alone in life. I like romantic comedies and can’t watch horror (too scary). I want to see the best in everyone and am usually too trusting and nice to others. Thanks again!

Thank you for sending the ship in! I hope you like it!

I ship you with....

The 100

Jasper Jordon

You always thought of him as a hero, even long after everyone else forgot about his early marksmanship skills. He was surprised one day when you randomly brought it up out of the blue, and he thought it was actually really sweet that you did that.

After losing Maya he’s always desperate to make sure that you’re safe. He rarely needs your side and so you never have to be alone in the first place. He is done fighting and just wants a peaceful life where he can have fun and not worry about dying.

When you’re playing music he always pretends to know the song, and even though you know he’s lying most the time you let him keep up the charade cause you think it’s cute.

You give him a good reason to keep wanting him to live. You remind him that humanity is good and it’s your faith in humanity that gives him the strength to have hope in a better tomorrow.

The two of you started off as friends, especially since both of you were some of the most normal of the 100. He always thought you were cute but figured he never stood a chance.

You never go to mount weather and can never imagine what he must have been through. You realize how much you’re in love with him the moment you realize he might be in danger. He comes back changed and distant but you’re the person who sticks by him when he’s dealing with what happened. And eventually, he realizes he can’t live without you.

"Guess who?”

Hands covered your eyes suddenly, a familiar warmth and softness to them. You already knew who it was before you even had to guess. You knew his voice like the back of your hand. But what was the fun in guessing right? A soft smile formed. “Monty,” You laugh breathlessly.

His hands spun you around and forced you to finally face him. “Guess again.” He wore this goofy looking grin that lit up the rest of his face. You both knew better, there was this strong mutual understanding between the two you.

“You’re back from Mount Weather early?” It was a small trip to get supplies but you hadn’t expected to see him until much later in the day, although given his resistance to following orders this shouldn’t have surprised you much.

“Well that’s because I got you something, so I skipped the whole waiting thing and came here instead.”

You raised an eyebrow, slightly suspicious but obviously interested in what he had to show you. You couldn’t help the smile that stayed. This dork really never knew when to quit, did he? Not that you minded it much. “Okay, well what did you get me then?” You weren’t sure what he could possibly have found that made him rush back so swiftly to give it. And something that made him so certain you would want it.

“Not even a thank you,” Jasper teased, slightly amused as he pulled out a book form his bang and handed it over to you. “It’s not exactly new or anything but it’s certainly not something we had on the ark.”

It was a romance novel, Pride and Prejudice. One you had read about in several other novels and movies and one you had always wanted the chance to read but never were able to. “Jasper--” You were at a loss for words as you felt tears brim your eyes.

“Did I do something wrong?” He got worried as he laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “I was so sure about it too. I can go back and find something else--”

“No, Jasper. It’s perfect.”

Marvel Cinematic Universe

Natasha Romanoff

She was always afraid of how you’d view her when you find out who she is and what she’s done. But you see the best in her and it’s more than she could have ever imagined.

Part of the season she was so dead set on being the hero was because she wanted you to be proud of her. She also wanted to make a world

Natasha goes to every musical performance of yours. She knows the notes by heat and even plays piano with you on occasion. You know she spends time learning all your music and you think it’s adorable, especially since she’s never fess up.

She’s never been a bigger horror fan than after she met you. She told you they were her favorite but the truth is that she wanted a reason for you to cuddle into her. You always compromise by making her watch a romcom because she claims to hate them. Little did you expect her to cry to each one with you.

If anybody were to lay a hand on you she’d lose it. You’re the most precious thing she’s ever had and she’s so terrified that someone will take you away from her. It also means she’s new to the whole romance thing and is always a little stunned by how sweet and genuine you are.

After civil war she steps out of the spotlight and lives a really cute domestic life with you for years. You know she misses getting to feel like a hero and that she’s making a difference but you’re so glad she isn’t in danger anymore. You never quite got used to her coming home bloody and bruised after battle and this is a nice change of pace.

Your body hits the cool mat that only barely cushions your fall. It sinking into the mat as you begin to breath heavily. You weren’t sure how much of a fight you had left in you. “Again.” Natasha’s command is so strong and simple. But this felt like anything but a simple exchange. Every time you got back up she managed to knock you down again, and while you knew she was just looking out for you. “You’re going to get yourself killed, get up!” She has a tough love teaching method.

“When I asked you to teach me some self defense this isn’t exactly what I had in mind you know.” Your hand grasps her’s as you pull yourself back up and onto your feet. “I thought it would be, I don’t know, sexier?” You find yourself blushing as you say it, as if admitting your feelings about the topic were embarrassing. And it kind of was. But this was by far the first time that you came up with an idea you thought would be romantic and she takes it— well, a little too literal.

Natasha’s face instantly softens and her shoulders fall. “Is it too much?” She sounded unsure of herself, a rare site. But not too uncommon around you, it was always clear that she was new to tenderness and care. It never bothered you though, her upbringing meant that everything you always took for granted she never got: hugs, warmth, romance. Everything you did with Nat was brand new to her.

“No.”

You smile, trying to reassure her. Something in you meant that you couldn’t confirm her fears. “You just, care about me.” Your fingers brush the lossened strands of your hair back behind your ears. “Again, right?” You take a moment to catch your breath by taking another deep one. Your fists are brought up in a defensive position as you ready yourself.

Even if this isn’t exactly what you had wanted it wasn’t bad. And the relief on Natasha’s face made the descion instantly worth it. She ran through the movement again, her hand landing on your shoulder. You went through the motions, remembering what she taught you. Step 1, step 2, step 3. You’re slow but she tolerates that up until the second she goes off script. She spins you around and forces you onto the floor.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?”

Her face is an inch from yours and her body has you tightly pinned to the ground. You’re caught by surprise and your mouth is left hanging open for a moment. You’re thrown off by the intimacy of it all and your face is turned red. You never do get to quite catch up to things before she kisses you, it’s soft with a hint of desperation but only lasts for a moment before she pulls back.

“Yeah, a little bit.”

#the 100 #marvel #jasper jordan #natasha romanoff #black widow #mcu #ship requests

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anonil88 · 5 years

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loyal lines, loyal stunts (wayhaught college au): chapter 8

An update finally, its shorter than i originally wrote it but, im happier with it this way. Any and all feedback for this chapter is appreciated. Im back back in the US now.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16373183/chapters/39744492

Nicole felt super relaxed. Her body felt weightless and her dreams soft. Usually when she had a bit too much to drink her mind was either blank of filled with nightmares of failure. This night was different though, it started out noiseless but turned into a dream filled with warmth and happiness. She nuzzled forward into the warmth of something in front of her body. Something in the back of her head telling her to wake up, but she pushed the thought away and fell back asleep. Reaching out Nicole pulled herself to bury further into what she sleepily assumed was a very warm blanket. Waverly was wide awake when Nicole pushed her into her chest. Her eyes were wide and downcast staring at the red mound of hair curled into her chest. At first it was from shock and then she realized Nicole was still asleep. She’d woken up a bit earlier to Nicole pushing her body closer and closer into her arms. Waverly could wrap her arms around Nicole’s shoulders and she fit so well that Waverly let her stay there. She knew she shouldn’t, but it felt nice it felt right. Her fingers were threading into and playing with random strands of red hair while she gazed down at her friend. She was really beautiful as always, but like this it made Waverly drift into puppy eyes and started to make her heart flutter. Nicole sighed audibly and clung to her body closely. Waverly bright red nail marks indented on the pale back of Nicole’s neck and a small bruise on the side. Those bruises most definitely were caused by the kiss she had pulled Nicole into the night before. The kiss that she could remember clearly even though some parts from the night before were somewhat foggy. She remembered the kiss. It was almost everything Waverly had imagined many times before. From the way Nicole gripped at her body with hunger, to how soft Nicole’s lips were when they brushed against her. It was almost perfect but then she remembered Nicole rejected the kiss almost immediately. From that point on deep into the cool night there was unspoken tension. It was like there was a wall of steel between the two of them until they both fell asleep.

That was until Waverly woke up from her restless slumber to Nicole mumbling in her sleep. She was faced away from Waverly’s gaze, lost in what Waverly assumed was a dream. This was no normal restless dream when Nicole let out a quiet yelp and her fist clenched against the pillow her head rested on. Waverly was propped on her arm staring with uncertainty. She fought sometimes in her sleep too, Ward Earp’s hateful taunts echoing in her many nightmares. She didn’t know what to do so she rested her fingers to Nicole’s bare shoulder. When she drew lazy patterns of hearts Nicole stilled back into an even patterned breath. Waverly kept drawing out forms getting lost in the moment of how intimate this was. The one girl on campus who turned her brain into soup. Nicole turned around in her sleep causing Waverly to stop her fingers movement and pull back quickly. Due to the position switch her fingers were dangerously close to Nicole’s lips. She ghosted her finger tips over the soft pink flesh before pulling them back and gazing at Nicole until sleep pulled her back in. Waverly fell asleep and woke up with the Nicole Haught in her arms. Waverly knew she was so screwed. Based on the overcast sunlight hanging over the sheet Waverly knew she would have to move soon. She still had classes to make, clothes to change, a shower to take, and sorority sisters to kiss ass to. Her mind felt at ease with Nicole as if nothing could ruin this moment and it was then that she wished she never had to leave Nicole sleeping soundly wrapped up in her arms. Waverly kissed the top of Nicole’s head ever so lightly, the faint smell of vanilla flooding her senses.

Nicole was wide awake now her arm draped over Waverly’s body but she didn’t want to move. Partially she did not want Waverly to start running from her. The smaller woman seemed so comfortable holding her and Nicole did not want to disturb her. Waverly was gently resting her chin on Nicole’s head one hand brushing up and down her shoulder. Nicole held her breath hoping the girl wouldn’t notice the change in rest. Cold finger tips moved against the tender spot on her neck and she felt her heart ache. The kiss replayed in her mind and she thought about how it could be so simple to do it again. Champ, Nicole thought. Last night, after the kiss she didn’t have much time to explain to Waverly that the kiss was great, she just wanted to be sure Waverly was sure. Sure, about kissing her. Sure, about what that meant about their friendship they were fast growing. Waverly was quickly winning a spot in her heart. Romantic feelings or not Nicole knew she could easily call Waverly a best friend. Her time for explanation was cut when Rosita asked her to kick out some stragglers in the back yard.

“Yo, rent a cop why are you, Zetas always ending a good thing,” Champ drunk off his ass Hardy yelled at Nicole when she walked out the back door. Her face went bright red for many reasons as the burly triple athlete breathed heavy in her direction. The irony being because his drunken antics had just ended one of the best kisses she had ever experienced in her life. His breath stunk of liquor and stale cotton mouth. She smoothed her brow and chose to ignore him.

“Alrighty everyone you have to go or else security shuts this down and I lose my job,” Nicole herded the crowd towards the exit gate. People started to file out of the yard slowly while she motioned to the open gate door with both arms.

“Rent a cop answer me,” Champ hollered while wobbling closer into Nicole’s personal space.

Nicole kept her cool and rolled her eyes, no way she was going to let this tool get to her. Especially not a tool who would most definitely complain to a superior if she did.

“Hey Heyyy Christy,” Champ screamed towards Chrissy. The honey blonde was sitting on the back porch next to Nicole’s converse hunched over. She rose her head slowly and grimaced what Champ. She scoffed under her breath which made Nicole chuckle quietly.

“You are soooo hot but where is Waverly.” Champ questioned both Chrissy and Nicole.

Chrissy shrugged and looked up at Nicole knowingly. Nicole chewed the inside of her jaw refusing to look down and kept her eyes focused. Focused on the line of people leaving the yard. She just wanted to avoid Champ’s eyes at all cost. Her ears tuning into the whispering and giggling amongst students passing her.

“Fuckkkk I lost her, I was trying to hear those pretty little moans tonight,” Champ chuckled out loudly.

Nicole bit the inside of her cheek hard attempting to keep her anguish from her face. The slight taste of iron coating her tongue when she winced. She was still looking at the line but her hands started to ball at her sides. What a pig she thought. Champ stepped into the line past Nicole and leaned against another football player in his group. This one extremely tall with a goofy smile stuck on his face. Champ started to mimic a shrill moan from the back of his throat, ahhh champ harder, the group of guys laughed.

Nicole gripped her knuckles tight with her heart beating faster. Champ continued moaning and thrusted with his hips as he and his group stumbled closer towards the gate. Nicole was one more stupid moan from knocking Champ flat on his ass. What kind of boy thinks it entertaining to mock the girl who is letting him shtup her. Especially a girl as kind, smart, and understanding as Waverly. Waverly who was probably sitting in her room confused or not too far from hearing this jerk detailing the sounds of her pleasure to a crowd of people. Chrissy wrapped her arms around Nicole’s leg when she saw the redhead step forward.

“Shut the fuck up Champ,” Chrissy shouted from the step. Champ whirled around from his group chuckling.

“Lighten up Chris and when you see Waves tell her he neeeeddds her.” Pointing to his crotch Nicole couldn’t hide the fake retching she made. Champ was backing out of the gate when he spat words in her direction at least I can do more than any old rent a cop can. Chrissy finally let go of her leg with the last guest leaving. Nicole let out a sigh she wanted to enjoy the feeling of Waverly lulling her back to sleep. No matter what she wanted she couldn’t and she knew exactly why. Waverly shuddered at Nicole’s breath touching her skin and Nicole felt it. She could really get lost in kissing the neck and the collarbone her face was so close to touching. Instead she pushed away and unwrapped her arms from around Waverly. Rolling over she slid out of the bed and stood there staring at Waverly. Waverly looked slightly lost in the eyes from the loss of contact. But, her lips quickly turned to a soft but fake smile quickly and her eyes softened.

“Hey Waves so I should get you to campus before work.” Nicole checked the time on the alarm clock while fiddling with loose thread on her shirt. Avoiding those hurt eyes and the sickly convincing smile. Anyone could be convinced if they just did not know Waverly quite well enough and Nicole felt like she was at least starting to. Waverly played with the edge of the pillowcase looking up at Nicole. Her thoughts wanted to say really after you kiss me like that you throw me out. Then again though she was the one who kissed Nicole not the other way around.

“Good morning Nicole,” was all Waverly could say instead of chastising Nicole’s tired ears. Waverly made her way to the bathroom after awkward morning pleasantries shuffling with a pair of Nicole’s spare basketball shorts in her hand. Waverly felt like crying because here she was being given the cold shoulder because of a stupid kiss. Nicole was in her baggy dark green uniform when Waverly stepped out of the bathroom. She’d chosen to wear her messy red waves down to hide the bite and nail marks on her neck. When she slipped into the bathroom she attempted to hide them with make up but it was easier this way. Standing in the mirror she did stare at them for a bit running her fingers across the tender skin. She couldn’t help but feel warm under her skin thinking how Waverly marked her in a way. It was slightly enthralling. Helping to hide the mark was her hair that was growing longer these days. Nicole didn't have a reason to cut it since leaving behind basketball. So, it started to fall on her shoulders now and she pulled her cap down. The two women did not say much of anything to each other except for silent nods. Waverly sat beside Nicole in the passenger side seat typing furiously to someone. The clicking of the onscreen keyboard and the low playing radio filled up some of the silence. Waverly’s ears were burning with annoyance and upset.

Chrissy So how was your night ;)

Waverly Shitty Chrissy Damn I have heard NOTHING but great things about hops skills

Waverly Didn’t even do that actually I kissed her and she rejected it

Chrissy She...never mind, what happened

Waverly Well I was stupid, and I kissed her, and it was great. Like fireworks and tingling skin great. But then someone knocked, and she jumped off me like I was a disease.

Chrissy Maybe she was spooked

Waves We haven’t even really spoken since we woke up. Let alone about that kiss.

Chrissy I’m sorry, waves but yaknow talk to her even if you aren’t the best at that

Waves What if she hates me Nicole decided to break the tension, this was getting to be too much for her to bare, “so uh Champ was looking for you last night.” Waverly mumbled, “yea I know.” He had texted her multiple times when she checked her phone that morning. Including a picture, she did not wish to ever receive unsolicited. But, she ignored every single of his messages too wrapped up in her conversation with Chrissy. Nicole mumbled, “Oh um well I just thought I’d tell you.” The car was again filled with silence and Waverly turned up the volume slightly on the radio. “She's so hot, hey, what's not to love

Heaven's little devil's got me all messed up

She's a little heart breaker, and I'm her fool” “So we aren’t going talk about it then,” Nicole decided to ask. “Talk about what,” Waverly coldly let out.

The radio continued to churn out.

“She's so hot

It's hard to be cool

Hard to be cool” Nicole stopped her car in the lot of the dorm and shifted gears to park. “Were you that drunk, damn”, Nicole cursed to herself out loud. “I shouldn’t have kissed back waves I am so sorry.” Waverly dismissed her.“ Whatever Nicole, it wasn’t your fault I kissed you,” she replied dryly. Nicole looked over in disbelief but noticed the time, “you have a class at 10 right.” Waverly nodded keeping her arms folded and her gaze out the front window. “Please go do what you have to and ill drop you on campus so you aren’t late, okay?” Nicole asked hoping the girl would say yes. She flashed her a dimple to coax her further. Even though they kissed maybe they could ignore that and fall back into whatever state they were in before the kiss. Waverly said okay and rolled her eyes at the dimple straining on Nicole’s cheek. She left Nicole to plop her forehead on the steering wheel in thought. Waverly dashed away and up the stairs to her room to quickly pick out an outfit, freshen up, and pack her backpack. 40 minutes, plenty of time she thought. Waverly ended up rushing for an outfit at the last moment. Throwing on a simple long-sleeved shirt and jeans, her hair thrown in a messy bun she was slipping her coat on. Her phone started screaming with Nicole’s name popping up. She slid open the answer call on speaker, I am coming she yelled as she threw on her backpack and pulled a pair of gloves from a drawer. It was a lot colder today than previous fall days so far. Winter was coming. “Waverly,” Nicole groaned, “you have 5 minutes before I run up there and hoist you over my shoulder, I’ve got 15 minutes to get you to...what building?” Nicole questioned. Waverly grimaced once overring herself in a mirror quickly, the answer was not going to please Nicole at all. But being hoisted over the red heads shoulder sounded wonderful no matter how upset she was at her. Before stepping out of the room Waverly swallowed her thoughts and locked her door, “Uh Bart.”

Nicole groaned, Barton Hall was a good 20 minutes away from this dorm building specifically. She started the car again and turned it around to face the exit. Waverly hung up after crackling over the car speakers, “I’m almost there through running pants.” Nicole saw the brunette barrel towards the passenger side and reached over to open the door. Normally she would have gotten out and unlocked it for her, but this was not the time for a chivalrous tardy moment. Waverly clutched her seat belt while Nicole slid to a stop and into an empty spot on the street outside Barton Hall. Waverly hopped out of the car checking the time on the dash. 9:57.

“I... thankyou...we will talk later for sure about everything kay,” Waverly shook her head profusely starting to leave the car.

“It’s okay Waves I’d do anything to you,” Nicole stammers out her eyes going wide at the slip up. Waverly stopped her frantic removal from the door almost completely. She peered through the half open door shrugging on her pack. Nicole’s gaze fell from Waverly’s eyes to a small questioning grin forming on her lips.

“You mean…. for me Nicole,” Waverly said. “Yea that too but go waves shake a leg,” Nicole chuckled nervously and looked away. Waverly closed the door waving goodbye and ran into the building. Nicole let out a sigh seeing Waverly disappear behind the metal door, before putting the car back in drive.”

Yea friends I can do that she thought.

***

Nicole pulled into the security office ready to tackle Woodbridge's next great campus story. Her jacket hung loosely to her body as she adjusted her hat at the door and made her way into the building. She waved to Lonnie before walking to the officer’s area and clocking into the digital shift management system. “Lucado wants to see you Haught,” another officer stated exiting the biggest office down a hall. Nicole sighed and checked her appearance in the reflection of the blank asleep computer screen. The least she could do was look presentable in front of her boss. When she knocked on Lucado’s door her no nonsense toned boss stated, enter Haught. The conversation was brief, Nicole sat in her seat confident and stern faced. Lucado grilled her about a few student officers and questioned her about academy. At the end of the conversation Lucado slid Nicole a yellow piece of paper stamped recommendation. It was somewhat shocking to Nicole but Lucado insisted. Send copies of this in when you send in your secondary paper applications. It should help you, even though you need not much help. You will make a fine officer one day Nicole. Lucado was stern but that validation was very rewarding to Nicole. She shook her chiefs hand before exiting the office and walking back to find out her duties for the day with a pep in her step. *** Waverly was in her last class and she felt drained. The hangover she never got hit her hard halfway through the day. So hard that in the middle of her lunch period she sat curled in a booth her jacket hood covering her face in the cafeteria. She was blocking out as much light as she could just to keep the headache at bay. It must have been the jungle juice from the party she internally reflected. Waverly found a way to text Nicole through the building pressure to find out her day was going better than hers at least. Hangover or not, that Monday ended up terrible. From a pissed off sigma president to an equally pissed off cheer coach things began to pile on Waverly. Usually the pressure of college was manageable but today was not one of those days. The sigma president was upset because Waverly had chosen a pink shade of paint for a mural that was practically the same color as their soror colors it just had a different name. The cheer coach was unhappy with Waverly for constrictively criticizing another cheerleaders twist as she dismounted during practice. Even though as captain that was one of her responsibilities. It made no sense to Waverly, but she took the judgement just the same. Her favorite history professor loved her paper at least. It was in her history afternoon class that Waverly hung her head and felt tears prick at the sides of her eyes. She really shouldn’t be crying she thought this wasn’t the worst moment she had in school so far. When the class was dismissed Waverly stood outside of the building while checking the and pondered before calling. “I am so tired,” she mumbled across the phone.

#wayhaught #wayhaught college au #wayhaught fanfic #llls chapter 8 #llls #waverly x nicole #waverly earp #nicole haught #wynonna earp fanfiction #wynonna earp #fanfiction #loyal lines loyal stunts #wayhaught fanfiction

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cassandrapentayaaaaas · 6 years

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@ripplesofaqua I liked your idea, so I ran with it.

Pairing: Cassandra/F!Trevelyan

It was an accident.

Or at least she wished it had been one. But the truth was that Trevelyan had been considering the Seeker’s backside for far too long for this to have been anything other than reflex; a desire so ingrained in her psyche, now, that her muscles couldn’t help but betray her. Too many drinks with Bull had led the Inquisitor and Seeker into flirtation in their secluded corner above the Herald’s Rest. How could it have been anything other, once the topic had switched to Cassandra’s utter lack of skill with a bow. How was the Inquisitor supposed to have passed up the opportunity to offer the Seeker lessons on how to ‘hit the right spot?’ It had been the perfect storm, and when Cassandra had risen to leave, Trevelyan had done the unthinkable.

Now, she sat staring at her traitorous hand--the architect of all this mischief--where it hovered, frozen only inches away from Cassandra’s backside. Trevelyan could still feel the slight sting in her palm where it had made contact with the unsurprising firmness of muscle, covered by leather. Had the Herald felt enough in that brief moment to securely claim that the Seeker wasn’t wearing any smalls? No, probably not. Nevertheless, a small, unbidden smile came to her lips at the thought that Cassandra’s ass felt exactly like it looked: perfect.

The smirk dissipated into a shocked stare as Cassandra whirled around, eyes blazing with a kind of inferno Trevelyan couldn’t remember having seen before. The Herald gulped, and Cassandra took one step towards her. Maker, this was going to be the end, wasn’t it? She felt a cheeky twinge of pride in considering that perhaps this was the best and bravest way to make her exit. Had anyone else ever slapped the Seeker’s ass, before? If anyone had, how long had she let them live? Was she setting a new record for continuing to breathe, post-slap? Then, her heart stalled for a moment; had she just ruined a budding courtship with her brashness? Trevelyan pushed her back against the wall, pressing her hand onto the tables at her sides in order to brace herself for whatever might come next.

However, the Seeker only kept still, studying her leader with an unreadable expression that made the Inquisitor’s stomach do flips. Finally, Cassandra slid forward with paralyzing slowness. She set one knee on the bench that Trevelyan straddled, putting her leg so dangerously near her middle that the Herald could feel warmth radiating off of Cassandra’s thigh--the Inquisitor’s body was beginning to betray her in other ways, now.

One ungloved hand reached under the Herald’s chin, turning her face up towards the Seeker’s own, while the second hand pulled a dagger out of its belt loop and placed it on the table. Trevelyan forgot how to breathe as she looked at the metal of the blade. Sweet Andraste, she really was going to die, tonight.

Cassandra tilted the Inquisitor’s jaw once more so that their eyes met. At an aching pace, she leaned down towards the Inquisitor’s ear... and breathed gently against it.

Things were not going as the Herald had imagined they might by this point, and the sheer shock of this growing proximity sent tingles running up and down her spine like a healing spell. Trevelyan felt her fingers splay on the table in an effort not to reach out and pull the Seeker to her. She could not restrain the slight gasp that escaped her, however--and was she wrong in thinking she had seen Cassandra smirk at the sound? Trevelyan gulped, trying to remember how to speak. “S-sorry,” she gasped, “that wasn’t what I meant to--”

“Hm,” smirked the Seeker, causing Trevelyan to shudder as she slipped her hand down to run a thumb along the Inquisitor’s jawline. “Was I not the intended target? Perhaps I should look elsewhere for training on my marksmanship, then.”

“No, well, I mean, if you want--”

The Seeker chuckled and placed a tender kiss to the corner of Trevelyan’s mouth. She pulled back to look into the Inquisitor’s eyes with only a slight hesitation before she kissed the other woman fully on the lips. They had kissed before, but those had been tender connections. There was something different in this meeting of their lips; something strong and urgent. Desire pumped through the Herald so forcefully that she swore she could feel her heart beating in her fingertips. “You needn't worry,” whispered Cassandra as she pulled back with a smile, “I've already told you that I am sure of what I want.”

Trevelyan nodded with a blush, feeling a sensation that wavered between bewilderment euphoria as she watched the Seeker’s hips sway, carrying her towards the stairs. “Enjoy the rest of your night, Inquisitor,” called the Seeker over her shoulder, “and mind your fingers.”

Trevelyan turned a goofy, lovestruck grin towards the offending hand, let out an amused guffaw. Between the Inquisitor’s index and middle fingers, Cassandra had stuck her dagger into the wood of the table.

Perhaps the Seeker needed no lessons in aiming, after all.

#I told y'all she was a tease #cassandra pentaghast #cassandra x f!trevelyan #cassandra x f!inquisitor #my writing

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inkstainedfanfics · 6 years

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End of the Year Fic Rec!

I started this blog in like March or April of this year, and since then, I’ve written plenty, but I’ve also read tons of work by others. So I decided to take a moment and just list some of my favorite fics/drabbles/one-shots I’ve read this year from the lovely people that take time to write stories for everyone.

I sorted them by fandom, and listed the author only once. So if there’s a few fics that follow an author, then they are written by that author until you see a different username! I hope you all check out and enjoy these stories as much as I do, and send comments to them if you do!

If you’re on this list, thank you so much for taking the time to write your stories. They’ve helped make my days better and have made me smile countless times. Thank you so much, I hope you have a lovely 2018 :)

And if anyone has any other recs, feel free to reblog and add them on. Authors deserve some love, and starting the new year off by giving them some appreciation can’t hurt!

FANTASTIC BEASTS

White Lace - @fantasticnewtimagines: A Prince!Newt AU. Need I say more? Probably not but I will bc this series is wonderful. 2 parts are out, and I’m already shipping Newt x Reader. He’s so sweet but impatient with his role in the world and I just adore him and his interactions with Theseus so much.

Breakfast in Bed: Newt x Reader fluff. Pure fluff that is beautifully described with an adorable guest appearance by the disgusted Pickett.

Come Back: Newt x Reader. 3 recs in and I’m already recommending angst. Fitting. But honestly this fic will break your heart. Mentions of blood so don’t read if you’re squeamish about that I guess but otherwise, I promise you will not regret reading this fic. It’s heart wrenching and gorgeous.

Magical Office - @drdanwrites: The Office crosses Fbawtft. This series is hilarious and moving and a lovely combination of the popular show and the popular movie. I love the characterizations within this, and plenty of the jokes have legit made me laugh. It’s the right balance of goofy with dramatic and I’m hanging on every update.

Too Late - @scamanderson: Newt Angst. Shoot man I’m a sucker for the ‘tries to return to find out the other has moved on, awkward reunion’ trope (v. specific Ik lol) and this fic perfectly captures that idea. It’s sad, depicting the emotions of lost love and anger and regret as well as I think is possible.

HARRY POTTER

Well, Hello There - @losers-witch: Remus Lupin x Reader. Sassy Reader gives me life tbh. “What’s a pretty young thing like you, doing in a bar like this?” “Ignoring you” I love it. + Protective, Confident Remus, something I miss in fics. + it mentions his scars in no way in a negative light, something I really like. + it’s a super cute story that has a chance meeting oooo. Go read it, seriously. You won’t regret it.

Mine: Draco x Reader. Tbh I normally don’t read Draco fics bc they don’t always characterize him like I expect, but this one is different (along with all the other ones she writes about him). He’s sweet in his own, Draco specific way. I like how it tracks the relationship growth in separate times and how we watch them grow together and apart as we read. and it has another confident Reader ahhhhh. I’ve reread it multiple times, also something I rarely do.

Welcome Back - @drdanwrites: Cedric Diggory x Reader. I honestly cannot read this around other people. I flail and can’t stop smiling it’s so dang cute. I love it more than anything. My boy Cedric is horribly underrepresented, and this is a wonderful cure to that. He’s so sweet about how much he loves his S/O and how he misses her when she’s gone and when he’s in the taxi on the way to pick her up??????? You should totally read this if you want your heart to grow like the Grinch’s.

The Climb: Cedric Diggory x Reader. I can’t even with this. It’s beautiful. He’s sweet and cute and you watch the relationship unfold and then there’s a kiss that I will never be over it’s so well written and honestly if you love Cedric and haven’t read this fic, you’re missing out.

You Are My Happiness: Seamus Finnegan Soulmate AU. Another boy that’s totally underrepresented. I haven’t read any other fics for him, so finding this was a miracle. The friendship between the two is adorable and seeing the two’s thoughts about each other is flipping adorable idk. You should 100% read this to make your day better.

CRIMINAL MINDS

Gingerbread - @bookofreid: Spencer Reid x Reader. Soooooooo sweet. The final sentence gets me. Spencer’s so adorable and I love him and this drabble only fuels that love further and further. I still swoon and “awwwww” even after reading it at least six times. Short and sweet and worth your time 1000 times over.

Christmas Cheer: Spencer Reid x Reader. For some reason the line “Christmas with the Reids” gets me. This one involves Derek. Another short and sweet story that I love. The author has tons of shorter ones like this and Gingerbread, and I’m slowly but surely making my way through the list. The author has a wonderful grasp on the voice of the characters, and not once have I felt they said something ooc. Definitely check out and (I recommend) follow bookofreid bc the blog’s pretty great too.

The Ramblings of an Introvert: Spencer Reid x Reader. Okay, I’m a few parts into this 7 part series, but it’s gorgeous. It captures Reid’s voice really well, and I like the idea of him writing letters since that’s actually addressed in the show as something he would do. It’s an interesting way to relay his feelings, and I think the author executes it really well. The language use is exactly how I think Spencer would write, and the expression of his emotions is well done. Really lovely story that I’m certain I’ll be rereading in a while.

We All Fall Down - @criminal-minds-fanfiction: Spencer Reid angst. Another series that I’m only a few parts into. Honestly, I don’t read long series often, and I believe this one is over 20, but I read the 1st part and I had to continue on. The writing is descriptive enough that you get the scene but aren’t overloaded with details. It’s extremely engaging and sets up a story with a hook better than almost any other fic I’ve read. It also involves an intriguing relationship between Spencer and Reader, one that keeps you guessing and reading. Plus Will makes an appearance and I live for his accent and sweet attitude.

MARVEL

Night Out - @wolflhards: Clint Barton x Reader. All right, this is my only Marvel entry bc I don’t really read for the characters EXCEPT Clint and I’ve found very, very few Clint stories *sobs*. I like this one though for how mischievous Clint is in the beginning. I think it really captures him. Then he’s sweet and goofy and ahhh so many emotions bc I love Clint so much. + a Corvette is involved, an undeniable plus. + THE END if you love Clint you’ll die. It’s such a wonderful last couple of paragraphs there to tie up a beautiful story.

SUPERNATURAL

Dean Checking In - @supernaturalfreewill: Dean x Reader. Super short, a drabble, but still super cute. We get to see how Dean and Reader text, and then Dean smiles and I love that and Idk man I don’t have super in depth ideas for this, it just made me smile and swoon and I figure everyone should have the chance to read it and have that reaction.

Protective Dean: Dean x Reader. Another super short drabble but I have a thing for Protective!Boy fics, so this one is a favorite of mine. Dean’s so dang swoonworthy help.

Dean Sees You in a Towel: Dean x Reader. Dean’s so startled and he starts stammering and he’s showing his dorky, embarrassed side. Such a cute glimpse into a small situation.

Shut Up and Dance: Dean x Reader. They meet at a wedding Dean crashes, and the chemistry is amazing. I adore the dialogue in this, and could only ever wish to write Dean this well. Perfectly captures him and how he acts, and sets up a beautiful meeting that I just want to continue to read. Plus the ending is so gosh dang cute you’ll never get over it. Dean’s met his match :D

Impact - @kaz2y5-imagines: Dean x Reader. I will never be over this fic. I think about it all the time. It’s haunting, and Dean’s reaction to the crash has me swooning. He cares SO MUCH for the Reader, evident in his begging for Reader to return. And the end. Ugh. I love this fic so much. One of my favorite Dean fics I’ve read ever.

DRAGON AGE

What You Did was Stupid - @jawsandbones: FenHawke. Okay, jaw is my go-to Fenhawke/ZevxWarden author bc all the works are beautiful. The author’s writing style is like the opposite of mine with short sentences and concise descriptions, but I’m jealous bc it’s so wonderfully done. A master of writing, I read everything that’s posted. This drabble in particular broke my heart. I requested it, and didn’t expect to literally tear up, but I did and now I’m here, recommending it to you all so you can have your heart shattered into millions of tiny pieces. It’s worth it, though, for the beauty of the tale and the tenderness of the emotions.

I Care About You: FenHawke. I don’t normally like fics that include mage!Hawke bc I always play as a rogue, which is fine, obv, authors can write what they want, I just usually scroll past it. But I didn’t scroll past this one, and thankfully so. It depicts a moment, one that is held out, one of terror meeting calm, need meeting warmth, worry finding a hand to help. I just love it. It’s short like the one above, but still rich with emotions and tentative, uncertain feelings that plague the beginning stages of a relationship. Idk I just love it. Highly recommend checking out her other works.

All in a Name - @kierarutherford: Cullen Rutherford x Inquisitor Baseball!AU on AO3. I don’t like baseball, but I’m partway into this series and I love it. I really enjoy how various characters have been included and written while Cullen’s still the focal point. Diana is independent and tough, but not obnoxiously so. I haven’t finished it yet, but the pieces I’ve read are interesting, the details really well described. I can always hear/see the scene vividly. The author’s super talented and wrote tons of stories this year, and I think y’all should check her works out bc they’re awesome.

#fic rec #not mine #happy new year everyone!!!!!!#Hope you're all staying safe and having a nice time!#I highly recommend checking out these fics and talking to the authors #they're all super kind!#and talented lol

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rainstormcolors · 6 years

Note

Prideshipping for the ship meme (Are you surprised?)

I apologize for thewait! Thank you for your patience! Though to be honest, this exercise is morefor my own sake in building ideas and adding detail to these ships, and ifother people happen to get something out of it, that’s only a bonus. (At somepoint I’ll be answering for Heartshipping too.)

And of course theseare only my interpretations/opinions.

There are two waysPride can be approached: either Seto makes visits to the Netherworld, or Atemthrough some means exists in the modern world. I’ll try to acknowledge thedifferences where appropriate in my answers.

I think Seto makingroutine trips to the Netherworld would be an alright choice for the couple.It’s intriguing how Seto is both so independent as a person and yet so co-dependenton Atem, but I think a long distance relationship would work out well for thetwo. Seto needs space but would understand he has someone who loves, desires,and supports him even as they’re physically apart. Likewise, I think Atem wouldbe satisfied in what they share. I characterize Atem as more calm and at peacepost-canon and I think he’s both loving and independent, and he’d cherish howdeeply Seto feels for him and how they’ve both followed each other from thestart.

What they watch during movie dates and what kind ofsnacks they get from concessions.

Again, I don’tthink Seto watches much television or movies. But for some reason, I imagineAtem might really dig documentaries. It’s not just about absorbing informationhe hasn’t yet learned of the modern world. Rather I think he may actually enjoythe act of learning itself, given it’s in an entertaining package. I think he’dlike watching other genres of film too, though more casually. It would takesome time for him to develop his own tastes with it, since he wouldn’t be astired with clichés and tropes as most people.

Seto might bringdownloaded media to Atem in the Netherworld, and they’d sit on the palacerooftop over a candled city and under the deep starry sky, leaning into eachother as a floating panel of light plays the movie. Seto might become bored andbegin making plans for his work, but he’s still sitting there and Atem is restingagainst him and their warmth pools together, and when the film is over Atemasks him to maybe bring some new movies for next time. “Maybe one with moreaction so you don’t get bored.” (Atem noticed.)

Which one gets in to a fightwith the other’s parents.

If we’re in themodern world, neither one has a living parent. In the Netherworld, there’s allkinds of possibilities to play with here.

If Atem’s fatherwas present in the Netherworld, I think Atem would be close to him. He soclearly carried affection for his father’s memory in the series’ final arc. ButSeto would keep his distance from Aknamkanon.Aside from Seto’s sharply asocial nature, I think he’d feel like he wasencroaching and he’d also feel out of place within that father/son bond.

I consider Atem andYugi to have a brotherly affection for each other, and based on the ending toDSoD, it seems Seto’s warmed a small bit to Yugi. (I’m a sucker for Rivalshipbromance regardless.) I imagine Mokuba would figure out his brother is gay andinvolved with Atem before Seto actually comes out to him, and Mokuba would besupportive.

There’s somethingvery complex going on between Mokuba and Seto and Atem in DSoD (it’s awhirlpool of love, hate, fear, and hope) and there aren’t immediate answershere and the water would need to smooth. Mokuba and Seto already had a complexrelationship; Atem and Seto already had a complex relationship. I can’t reallydistill it so simply. But I think they’d come to an understanding. I think apart of Seto might be ashamed, while Mokuba dearly wants his brother to findsome patch of happiness even if Mokuba carries a splotch of resentment. (Ithink the fandom takes it for granted that even in the anime it’s impliedMokuba and Seto have a strain on their relationship—that doesn’t change thefact they love each other deeply.) I think Mokuba might have mixed feelingstowards Atem initially, even if he keeps them to himself, but there’d be timeto heal and bond.

What kind of street performance they’d put on to raisemoney if they were stranded somewhere.

Aren’t they bothfamous? They’d sell autographs!

How they’d be as parents if theyhad-a-kid/someone-forced-a-kid-on-them.

I’ve made it clearI interpret Seto as being keenly uncomfortable at the prospect of fatherhood,due to his history, his Gozaburo-complex, and the issues in his mental health.I see Atem as a character going either way. If his lover doesn’t want children,he’d be happy with not having children. If his lover does want children, he’dbe happy with having children. He could see himself being a good father and hedoesn’t mind children, but children aren’t a goal for him. Having children issomething he’s open to but not actively interested in, is my take on the character.

I’ve brought up thesad circumstance before of how Seto’d be forced into fatherhood, but also howhe’d prove to be a far better father than he had feared. He’d be quiet, softer,a bit distant. He’d have times where he’d lose his temper and have to suddenlyleave the room to calm down, but he would care achingly for that child. He’drub the child’s head gently, help them with their homework, carry them to bedwhen they’ve fallen asleep in the car.

I think Atem wouldprove to be a damn solid parent actually, warm and encouraging yet firm. Thisis in the realm of the mortal world, but maybe he’d take the child out fishingor bring them to museums. Atem might prompt the child to make a drawing forPapa Seto or he’d build colorful Play-Doh sculptures with them. He’d emboldenthem to make friends and put themselves out there. And he’d also be the one totell them to be kind to others, to be fair and use judgement, and scold themwhen they’ve done wrong.

Atem plays theactive firm parent, and Seto the quiet soft parent, but the child is well lovedand the three form a cozy family together.

Who would cause the most trouble during a camping tripand how.

I would say thecouple isn’t exactly the type to go out camping but then I did just read theaskee’s fic, The Newly Revised Book of the Dead, wherein Atem and Seto spend a decentamount of the story essentially camping. They both strike me as practicalorganized people (maybe not in the emotions department, but in work andhobbies), so I think they’d be able to tackle camping just fine. Though Atemwould enjoy the adventure more than Seto would.

In reality, I thinkthe two would take walks along the river’s edge, watching the beads of lightbob and shimmer on the water and seeing the birds skim the air. They maybriefly hold hands a few times.

Atem might try toconvince Seto to go horseback riding. As a joke, he’d tell Seto the horse’sname is Gingersnap and insist, “You have to say her name if you want to gainher trust.” And Seto would ask, “Why is a horse in Ancient Egypt namedGingersnap?”

What they would give each other as both a serious giftand a troll gift.

Seto is so cluelessabout gifts, so he’d ask up front what Atem wants for his birthday orChristmas. Atem is a bit more brave with gift-giving, making guesses and givingthings purely for surprise. If in the modern world, he might give Setohardcover books or a framed photograph of the wild ocean or maybe a handsomewatch. And Atem might teasingly buy goofy Duel Monsters memorabilia for theirhome, like a Blue Eyes White Dragon bottle-opener or a stuffed Kuriboh. MaybeAtem leaves the stuffed Kuriboh in Seto’s home office for him to discover, andwhile initially Seto is indifferent, overtime the toy becomes somethingprecious to him and he keeps it nestled beside his pen set.

Who moves in with them as an unfortunate third wheelroommate.

In the Netherworld,Seto himself is kind of a third wheel to the palace, isn’t he? I feel like he’dact stiff with Set, Mahaad, Mana, all of them. It’d take a while to warm tothem at all.

If Atem and Setoare together in the modern world, Atem’s friends may spend the occasional nightin their home. Yugi and Anzu would be very polite guests, while Jonouchi andHonda would visit Atem but they’d tend not to stay the night.

How they feel about handholding and sudden kisses in theear-cheek vicinity.

I characterize bothAtem and Seto as private in tenderness and also not touchy-feely to begin with.PDA does not happen with them, and even in private they don’t cling to each other.But they’ll lean into each other when they read and they’ll cuddle in bedtogether, and it’s sweet and warm, and it’s enough to know what they mean toeach other.

Who’s always snapping photos and who’s pack-rattingclutter.

I don’t thinkeither is taking many photographs. Nor is Seto into collecting small materialgoods. I’ve already mentioned Atem buys silly Duel Monsters merchandise half asa joke, half because he honestly finds it charming. I feel like he might taketo collecting certain knickknacks too, items he finds fascinating or cool.

Who hogs the bathroom in the morning and who causestoothpaste related drama.

Seto and Atem areboth pampered rich kids, and neither of them cleans toilets. In theNetherworld… how do bathrooms work? Do they have magically running water? Orwill Seto be making a fuss about how barbaric and unhygienic it is, at leastfor the first few visits until he gets over it up?

Atem might be the typeto leave the bathroom door cracked when he uses it and this mildly annoys Seto,and Seto will shut the door if he passes it.

What their matching costumes were for that one party.

Seto is an assholewho refuses to dress in a costume. This one is kind of stumping me actually,because I don’t think Atem would really care much about dressing up as a pair.They can be the boring killjoys of the party together: that’s their matchingoutfit.

If I think they’d get married and why or why not.

The answer to thisquestion is very dependent on which version of Prideshipping we go with.

If Atem exists inthe modern world, I don’t think marriage is on either character’s mind. I don’tthink either one is particularly romantically-minded nor do they feel the needto announce their bond in paperwork. What the case might be is one day theyrealize they’re fifty-years-old and have been together for over thirty years,so why not? But the ceremony would be small and short and more just to have iton the record. If anything, it’d be their friends and family who are moreexcited by the news and the ceremony. Maybe Atem would go along with theexcitement and have some elegant decorations strung around the room and foodplatters set out for their sake.

On the other hand,I think the two would marry with more passion, more personal investment, ifSeto was making visits to Atem in the Netherworld. The two have times of beingseparated physically: they want something to signify they’re always together inheart—they want a symbol of it. There’s something possessive here too, likeleaving a mark on each other. The ceremony would be small and quiet, as Setoand Atem are both private people in their tenderness, but it’d be warm andmeaningful.

Who has over a thousand unread emails in their inbox orfive hundred icons on their computer desktop and how the other reacts to thisgross mismanagement.

Seto is a CEO of amammoth corporation, so I think it’s fair to wager he has a lot of crap on hiscomputer. Atem doesn’t care; Atem only even recognizes like three of thoseicons.

What their hidden artistic talents are and howappreciative the other is of these talents.

Again, I think Setosketches blueprints for things he doesn’t intend to build, maybe fantasticalthings that can’t be built, as a way of clearing his heart on harder days.Maybe Atem watches him sketch, and he’s watching in silence for a while, and thenhe comments softly, “You’re very good at drawing.”

Maybe one day Atemasks if Seto would try drawing this thing or that. Maybe Seto does draw it forhim.

I imagine Atem as amore athletic type, someone who likes swimming and horseback riding andfishing. I feel like he might try painting or drawing but not have much talentfor it. “You’re much better,” he’d tell Seto.

But Atem is good atswiftly solving problems and thinking on his feet, conjuring creative solutions.It’s a talent Seto has always admired in him.

What they consider each other’s most attractive qualityand/or their favourite thing about the other.

Atem is like a point of brilliant clarity for Seto, and yet he’salso a symbol of so many spiraling things: the past, hatred, failure, connection,death, passion, and most intensely–most brightly–he represents hope. Atemawoke Seto from his numbness, inspired Seto and gave him the tools he needed tosave himself from despair. Even now, Atem harbors a kind of radiantconfidence and calmness that braces Seto and grants him brightness.

For Atem, Seto validated his existence as his own being, notYugi but a whole other person, a deeply valued rival. What Atem admires in Setonow is his passion, how he refuses to give up the battle until he finds ananswer, how strongly his spirit fights. Seto chased Atem from the start and henever gave up.

#prideshipping #atem #seto kaiba #meta garbage #kinda

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golddaggers · 7 years

Text

Mercy

Reader x Stiles Stilinski

(NOT MY GIF)

Imagine: being in love with Stiles for ages but he never notices, until one day, after a run away from a party, he tells you how he feels about you and things get heated.

Warnings: SMUTTY (oh yeah) SIN, oral sex (female receiving), dirty talk, swearing and sex. Little bits of fluff.

Word Count: 3336

A dose of neat whiskey lied half empty in front of me as I tapped carelessly at the wooden table, observing the crowd dancing in front of me like there was no tomorrow. This whole thing was so not me! I had no idea why I let Lydia convince me it was going to be good to leave my beloved bed and the Star Wars marathon I was about to start to go to a party.

Oh, damn, who was I trying to fool? I knew why I had come. My dear best friend used the two magic words that could get me anywhere she wanted: Stiles Stilinski. Martin had said he would be there, meaning there was no slight hesitation on the loud yes I gave as a response.

Although it was embarrassing to admit, the pale, clumsy boy had been my crush, and one of my best friends, ever since we met, a few years back. It was not actually my fault that he had mesmerising honey brown eyes that seemed capable of burning my entire soul to the ground. Or that his weird personality matched mine somehow. However, despite my tiring attempts, Stiles just could not see how much I wanted to be more than his friend. Ultimately, that made me despise the feelings I had inside, hiding them away.

“Y/N?” A deep, masculine voice snapped me out of the trance I was in. Then, right after it, Stiles’ hand brushed my left shoulder, which made me look back, partially scared, partially confused. Seeing my sudden messy state, he gave me a cheeky smile and I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t.” I shrugged, looking away from him as I finally gulped down the rest of my drink. It was my very subtle way to disguise the nervousness he caused on me. “What are you doing here, Stiles?”

“Uh, you had this awful boredom on your eyes and I thought I might be your saviour tonight.” His warm laugh made my heart skip a beat. Fuck. Definitely not a fair game, Stilinski. “Are you going to keep staring or are you going to say something? Because it’s kind of creepy. Not that I mind, though, I’m into creepy stuff, so-”

“For God’s sake, can’t you shut up?” The brown haired boy gazed at me in disbelief, his eyes wide whilst his bottom lip puckered up and formed an adorable pout. I was not able to hold the genuine smile that slipped at such sight. “That’s much better.”

“I was just trying to be helpful!”

“Okay, if you really, really, want to help me, then I guess you could give me a ride home? I’m done with this party.”

“Tell you what, I have a better idea.”

“I don’t trust your ideas, Stiles.” He scrunched his brows together, earning a soft chuckle from me. “They always lead straight to trouble.”

“I’m truly hurt by your lack of trust in me.” Both of us shared a giggle. “Come. Let me take you to my favourite place.”

“Can’t say I’m not scared.”

“Don’t be such a wuss, Y/N/N.” Stilinski muttered while I went back to my feet, feeling more ready than ever to leave that sweaty, filled with inconvenient people, room. “I promise you there won’t be any regrets.”

“I’m betting on it.”

Without any further words, he grabbed my hand, intertwining our fingers, and dragged me out of that dreadful celebration. While running to escape, we bumped into a whole bunch of people who were making out at the dance floor, which got us several angry yells. Not that we cared, though.

Outside, the night seemed to be outstandingly beautiful. A shy, pale moon cut through the greyish clouds, shining dots scattered across the sky, the tall trees swung lightly to the cold breeze, crickets cricked happily… Simply the perfect scenario for the ending of a romantic film.

“Don’t you love this?” The question crawled out of my lips as I contemplated the complexity standing before me. “I mean… It’s so astonishing! So beautiful!”

“You are so cheesy!” Stiles joked, squeezing my hand, that still lied on his tepid one, and giving me a playful wink. “But I have to admit, it is indeed a gorgeous view.”

We stayed there for a minute, maybe two, just enjoying each other’s presence and the landscape. Our entire friendship was based on these moments, where he and I could just shut up and feel comfortable in the silence. It’s those times you just know you found someone special.

Clamping my bottom lip between my teeth, I dared to direct my eyesight to him, catching his blissful state. The eyes I loved so much seemed to be lost in thoughts, whilst his mouth hung open, somewhat curled into a smirk. I knew that face very well: his mind was working on something. A mischief.

“Oh no, Stiles.”

“What?” Now the naughty smile was wide on his face. That man could not disguise anything even if he wanted to. “Come on, we’ve stayed here for too long already. I want to show you something.”

That said, he walked towards his old blue jeep. Considering I moved in a much slower pace than him, Stiles got there before me and calmly leant against the passenger’s door, waiting patiently. Man, is it weird that I found it incredibly sexy? Because I did. All I wanted to do was rip his clothes off and hump his brains out against that bloody car of his until we both had lost our voices.

“Where are we going?” I quizzed, a while later, glancing over the window. The cold wind stung my cheeks, which should be, by now, red as a pair of tomatoes. “If you’re taking me to the woods, forget it. I want to go home.”

“Chill.” Stilinski laughed, his right hand landing sneaky on my thigh. “I sensed you needed a romantic date, so I’m taking you to a special place.”

“A date? Are you insane?” Stifling a chuckle, I pierced my eyes on him, investigating if this was some sort of joke. “And since when do you do romantic dates?”

“OK, this was Lydia’s idea.” He exhaled, his eyes never leaving the road ahead. “She said you were sad because some guy had blown you off.”

“She did?”

“Yep.” Nodding, Stiles glanced at you, his irises carrying a hint of anger. “I was stunned when she told me. I mean, how could a guy do that? It’s you, for fuck’s sake.”

“If you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly a big deal, Stiles.”

“What are you talking about? You are beautiful! No sane guy would be able to resist you.”

“Really?” My chest was suddenly heavy with hope for what was to come. “So, in that subject, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Are you one of those guys? The ones who wouldn’t be able to resist me?”

“Yes.” The brown haired boy stated, fiercely, stopping the car and locking his gaze on me, eating me alive with it. “Even I wouldn’t be able to fight against you. Especially me, actually.”

In a second, he shortened the space between us, crashing his soft pink lips on mine in a loving kiss without thinking twice. And if I were to be honest, I did not want him to.

Moving carefully through the solid rocks, we found a spot that permitted us to observe the entire city, a remarkable sight. Stiles was not wrong when he said it was going to be a memorable night; the place was completely perfect, so was the declaration Stilinski performed earlier.

I sat down, my legs bouncing back and forth, and watched him take a seat by my side, a goofy grin etched to his face. Surely I had the same one enlightening my traits, for I still could not bring myself to believe he had actually confessed to have feelings for me. Shoot, I would never forget this moment. Not ever.

“This is what you call a romantic date, Stiles? Bringing me to an old, dead end place?”

“Come on, Y/N, you have to admit it is unique! And lovely as well.”

“I’m just kidding.” The younger Stilinski snaked an arm around my shoulders, pulling me towards his chest, which I did happily. “This is wonderful. Just what I needed.”

“You should have told me sooner.” He whispered, a little later, stroking my hair smoothly.

“That I liked you? Yeah, I know. I should’ve, but I was so scared I was going to lose your friendship…”

“Listen to me: there’s no chance in hell you’re going to lose me. I’m the one who might not handle such a powerful woman like yourself.”

“My ego is skyrocketing right now.” A soft giggle fell from my lips as he squeezed me even tighter. It felt good to feel his skin’s warmth on mine. “I’m still surprised, though. I never saw this coming.”

“You didn’t? Come on! The signs were all over the place.”

“I was always with Lydia, so I thought it was because of her. Not me.”

Stiles, out the blue, pushed me away from him. Afterwards, he swiftly grasped my chin, raising it so we could look at each other properly. I was not going to deny: I did not stand a chance against the sinful brown that was staring at me soaked in tenderness. It broke down my every defense, leaving me completely vulnerable to him. However, there was no need for hiding any more: our feelings were a hundred percent mutual.

“Lydia was a huge part of my life, that’s true, but everything changed when I met you, this Y/E/C eyed beauty who came out nowhere and won me over.”

“Damn.” I muttered, wetting my lips as they curved into a shy grin. “I don’t know what to say, really.”

“Why don’t you just kiss me?” Stilinski had a naughty beam enlightening his traits once he placed both of his hands on each side of my neck, bringing us closer together. “The whisky taste on your mouth was incredibly delicious earlier.”

“That’s such a cheesy line!”

“Oh yeah?” Hesitantly chewing my bottom lip, I confirmed what I had said and his eyes darkened. “I’m going to show you who’s cheesy.”

“What?”

Not bothering to reply, Stiles abruptly picked me up, put me on his shoulder and took me back to where he had parked his car. Once there, I was placed on the car hood, my legs wide so he could stand in between them. His mint scented breath fanned over my face, making me gasp, curling my toes. It was a mix of sensations I had barely experimented before.

“Ever since I met you” Stiles’ murmured hoarsely close to my ear. His digits slided down my belly until they reached the waist of my trousers, popping the button open, which provoked a surprised pant to escape from me. “I’ve been imagining what would you taste like. I bet you’re sweet.”

I groaned, blindingly trying to grasp any inch of his body and pull him to me. He chuckled at my attempts, pinning my hands up against the cold metal while stealing a quick peck. Thereafter warning me to stay still, Stilinski went back to my pants, getting them off alongside my panties in one pull.

“Look at that!” His fingers slithered through my inner thigh, dangerously near to my core. “Such a nice pussy you have.”

“S-Stiles.”

“Yes?” He hummed, now bent over me. It was hard to concentrate with fucking Stiles Stilinski’s face only inches away from the centre of my legs. Urgh, I wanted him to dive in on me once and for all so badly. “So wet, gorgeous.”

With those words floating in the air, a thumb glided across my entrance, earning a mellow moan from me due to the intimate contact. I never would have imagined that Stiles was this huge teaser, but there he was, licking his fingers clean from my arousal. Glueing my thighs together, I tried to create friction in order for me to ease the ache on my core.

“Easy, kitten. I don’t want us to rush things.”

“Are you trying to torture me?” I blurted out and, probably as way to punish me, he savoured a patch of bare skin awfully close to where I wanted his God damned mouth to be. “Because that’s exactly what you’re doing.”

“Fine.” Exhaling loudly, the boy shrugged and agreed. “If you want it so desperately, I guess I can give you a treat.”

“I do want it!”

Giggling, Stiles clutched my hips, bringing them towards his face and finally consumed the act, skilfully swirling his tongue on my throbbing clit, gaining a surprised heave. As the man worked his magic, I could not help the series of girlish groans that broke the established silence. Yet, he appeared to be enjoying them, for I could literally feel the smile against my slit as he pounded in and out of me.

A tension started to form on my lower stomach, making me gasp desperately. Without thinking straight, I gave my breasts, which were still covered by the black shirt I was wearing, rough squeezes, increasing considerably the blissful sensation. Everything was pushing me towards an intoxicating release. However, forbidding me to archive it, the boy simply stopped moving and I whined, thwarted.

“Why?”

“You see, gorgeous, I want you to cum around my cock, not my tongue.”

“Shit.” I cursed, gazing at him whilst wetting my lips; he grunted at the sight and I smirked, satisfied. “What are you waiting for?”

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re so beautiful! So delicious. I wish I would have done this sooner.”

“It’s lovely. It really is, but I need your precious dick buried deep in my pussy.” Upon hearing my request, Stiles choked on his breath. “Uh, did I make the big bad teaser nervous?”

“Not at all, beautiful.”

“Then come on, do it already!”

Sighing, he pushed down his khakis, allowing me to finally see how excited he was. His length was hard underneath his black briefs, which got my mouth watering to have a taste. Although, by the looks of it, I would not have that chance. Not now at least. Ultimately, my beloved friend got rid of the last clothe piece keeping us from giving into the desire we both had within. A second later, Stilinski yanked my ankles, bringing my bottom half towards him, causing my back to fall on the cold hood. This sent jitters across my whole form.

“Beg.”

“Excuse me?”

“I want you to beg for it, my dear.”

“Haven’t I begged enough, Stiles?”

“No.” A smug grin ghosted on his face and I grunted, sexually frustrated. To have my orgasm denied was a plainly awful feeling, because it made me crave his touch even more. “I decide when you have done it enough.”

“Pretty please? Urgh, I don’t know. Just fuck me. Hard. The kind of way it will leave me unable to walk for days.”

“Is it what you want?” He stirred, sucking a purple mark on my Y/S/C neck.

“Yes, I do. Make me yours!”

“And that’s what I wanted to hear.”

Incapable of holding it back any further minute, he pushed his shaft inside of me and we groaned together at the raw contact. It was even more pleasurable than I had imagined; Stiles completed me. Fulfilled me. He was the very thing I lacked this entire time.

Considering the boy did not move, I had to take the first step, so I buckled my hips forwards, trying to get his attention and create a slight movement. In reality, moving was not that hard, taking into account that my pussy was slick from my arousal. The fidgety Stilinski grunted, pinning me down and starting to pound in a quick stride.

I wounded my legs around his waist, deepening the penetration and eliciting a mix of throaty moans. Never interrupting his bruising pace, his hands started to wander throughout my frame, stopping at my covered breasts and giving them a gentle clasp. At last, he, all of a sudden, ripped open my shirt, the small buttons flying everywhere, and revealed the pink mesh bra I had on. Albeit the destruction of my favourite top should have made me mad, the only effect it had was to leave me even honier.

Stiles tittered, lowering the pink piece and pinching your left peak, which, by the time, was already turgid. The pleasure was so fervent, I reached a point that I was not be sure if this was a blossom of my dreams or indeed reality; nevertheless, I did not care.

I guided my fervorous digits to my throbbing clit, swiftly uniting the unbelievable high tempo to the circling of figure eights on my bundle of nerves. Things started to get blurry as my body began to shake. It was getting harder and harder to control the spasms.

“F-fuck, babe.” I slurred, my voice hoarse and shaky. “I’m almost there.”

“Cum to me, gorgeous. I wanna’ see you come undone because of me.”

His raspy voice, alongside a deep thrust, had done it for me, urging me straight to an overwhelming orgasm. My toes curled while I arched my back, crying out his name over and over, the blissful sensation invading me in constant waves. I could not control the shaking nor the noises, the climax had won me over and all I could do was enjoy it.

“Such a nice little girl.” The brown haired Stilinski murmured, pulling my fingers into his mouth and sucking on them whilst he banged my brains out, not even offering me a chance to recover from my high. I yelled at the overstimulation and he smiled, circling the tiny bundle of nerves in between my legs. “Cum one more time for me?”

“S-Stiles, oh my God, please! I-It’s, shit, I’m going to…”

The man kept his wet hand working on me as he pulled out, breaking down and spilling his warm seed all across my belly and breasts. Despite the fact he was still grunting heavily from his ambrosial frenzy, he managed to get me off one last time. However, the second peak brought with it a pleasant surprise: a transparent liquid flow out of me, dripping frenetically down my thighs, dirtying him, his car… Everything close to me!

“Fuck, Y/N/N, did you just… Squirt?”

“I think I did.” My response fell from my lips breathlessly. “Shit.”

“Who’s cheesy now, huh? I made you fucking squirt!”

“Shut up! This has never happened before to me.”

“I’m glad I was your first, then.” Stiles laughed while helping me to stand up on my feet again, even though it was completely useless: my legs seemed to have turned into jelly. “Want me to pick you up?”

“I’d be happy if you did.”

In the meantime the honey brown eyed man collected my limp body, carefully placing me inside the car on the passenger’s seat, a phone rang at its fullest, startling both of us. He picked it up and I used the time to clean myself, using the shreds of my long lost shirt.

“Uh, yes, she’s with me. Alright, we’re on our way. Five minutes, tops. OK, bye.”

“Let me guess: Scott? Pack trouble related?”

“Yeah, he apparently discovered some clue on who the benefactor is, so…”

“I know, we have to go.”

“Tonight was wonderful, Y/N. I want you to know that.”

“It was for me too, Stiles. Luckily for us, we can have plenty of those.”

“I hope so.”

“I promise you so.”

With a goofy grin plastered on his face, Stiles ignited his car, ready to drive us back to reality. I could not help but think that, no matter what happened from now on, we would still have each other and, for me, that was more than enough.

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wordydelights · 7 years

Text

Lovely Souls

The chill in the air nipped at Noelle’s exposed fingertips, painted with a deep blood red which was already starting to chip off on the edges. Her worn black sneakers crunched on dead leaves as she neared the whitewashed door. Even before opening it she could already smell the distinct fragrance of cannabis seeping through the cracks. She smiled as she turned the metal knob, inhaling the aroma with every step taken. Following the sounds of distant chatter, she made her way up the creaky wooden staircase covered in carpeting to cushion her dainty footsteps. At the end of the messy hallway she opened the door to Morgan’s room.

“Finally you’re here!” Morgan exclaimed without taking her eyes off of her phone. She was sitting on her unmade bed along with her twin sister Valley and older half-sister Luna, facing the flashing television on the opposite side of the room. Strands of Morgan’s long, almost silver like hair framed her heart shaped face. The color complimented her fair, porcelain complexion and piercing light blue eyes. Noelle had always thought that if there is a heaven it would be in the vast skies within Morgan’s eyes.

“Sorry, my mom went to bed a little later than usual.” Noelle replied as she sat herself down next to Calvin who was on the floor leaning against the mattress. Fixated on the TV, he only blinked when necessary as if to capture every detail possible. Calvin was like Luna’s boyfriend but not exactly. It was obvious the two had a connection, the constant eye contact, flirtatious language and subtle touches were a dead giveaway. Yet their relationship remained almost too platonic to be considered a couple. Either that or they were just very skilled on keeping it a secret. Luna glanced up towards Morgan, “Should I start rolling the blunt?”

A few moments of hesitation passed, Morgan nodded her head to each side as if weighing out the options in her mind, “Yeah.” Luna proceeded to rip open a fresh packet of cigars without hesitation and began dumping the tobacco inside into a plastic cup. After meticulously placing the buds of weed then carefully rolling the brown paper, she sealed it with her tongue. Noelle eyed Luna’s hands as they went to work, attempting to visually learn the art behind the task. In fact, Noelle paid close attention to everyone’s actions, absorbing the information gathered and retaining it for future reference. Not in an emotionless, robotic way but almost like a survival tactic, a way of blending better into the environment around her and understanding individual personalities to a greater extent.

The satisfying sound of the lighter being flicked was like music to Noelle’s ears. Luna obviously took the first hit and passed it on to Morgan, who was sitting closest to her, setting off a counter-clockwise rotation. Noelle, acting as if she was caught up in the stereotypical plot of the low budget indie film being played, mentally prepared herself for the inhale. She always wondered whether or not she was breathing correctly at first.

Maybe I hold it in a bit longer.

I just need to breathe normally, stop overthinking it.

“Noelle.” Noelle snapped her head up to meet Valley’s outreached hand with the lit blunt between her index and middle finger.

“Thanks.” She cautiously took the blunt out of Valley’s grasp and raised it to her lips. She breathed in. The warmth filled her lungs like a wildfire rushing throughout a dry forest. Her eyes began to slightly water as she tried to savor the crisp feeling within. To prevent coughing, she shut her eyes and slowly released the smoke into the air. It poured from her mouth like a raging waterfall into a tranquil stream, leaving that toasty, burning sensation in the center of her chest behind to be remembered by.

“Would you rather have no one show up to your funeral or no one show up to visit you on your deathbed?” Noelle smirked, her voice now more raspy and crackled. Morgan tilted her head, giving the impression of pensive thought while resting her chin on her index finger as she considered.

“Deathbed,” Luna and Calvin replied in unison. Noelle looked back at them as if they were crazy, “What!?”

Morgan nodded. “Yeah I agree. Deathbed.”

“Why?” Noelle defensively asked, with her arms folded.

“Well…,” Calvin began taking a hit from the blunt then whipping his sandy colored hair to the side as he exhaled. “I’d want to know I’m loved and remembered when I die.”

“But you wouldn’t care because you’d be dead. Think about it, you’re alive, lying in a hospital waiting for your loved ones to come and wish you farewell, but no one comes, so you die alone, lonely and heartbroken. You wouldn’t feel the emotional pain of no one arriving at your funeral because dead people don’t have feelings.”

“Yeah, but having no one show up to your funeral is kind of worse in a way. You are just forgotten and it just shows no one really cared about you in the first place.”

“But you’re dead so you wouldn’t know. Also, if people didn’t show up to visit you in your final hours but did during your funeral doesn’t it show how fake they are? Why would you want them coming to your funeral anyways?”

Luna decided to jump into the debate, “You could say the same thing about the people who visited you in the hospital but didn’t during your funeral. Wouldn’t you rather die knowing the truth?”

Valley, who had remained unbiased from the beginning of the discussion, mostly quietly observing, taking into account the different arguments, finally chose to voice her opinion, “I think both scenarios equally suck and I wouldn’t want either to happen to me.”

Everyone agreed. Valley didn’t usually say much. She was a shy, more reserved individual. Mostly lost in her own thoughts, but when she had something to say it was worth listening to. She was the kind of person most looked past, not appreciating her unique persona or beauty. Her hair in contrast with her personality was colored with a firey red dye. Its silky waves almost seemed to move like the ocean and her lips like two soft petals from a delicate rose. “When’s Raquel coming?” Noelle pondered, looking to Morgan for a response. “Not sure but she’s been acting weird lately,” Morgan started, and then looked up from her phone. Before Noelle could ask for further details Morgan continued. “She always makes plans then flakes the last minute or has to go suddenly because of her dad…apparently.”

“Oh please, we all know it’s because she just wants to go fuck her shitty boyfriend,” Luna added in a half joking but completely serious way. Her voice was so full of emotion that when she spoke you could never truly pinpoint it to one specific tone. It wasn’t a confusing voice. It was simply a voice so whole and varied, that one could get overwhelmed in its dimension and novelty.

Noelle nodded, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, “She’s done that before and lied about it so I wouldn’t be surprised. It just sucks always being second place to that asshole.” She shrugged, “But, what can you do.” Morgan quickly released the smoke in her lungs, attempting to not disrupt the flow of the conversation. “I don’t understand her taste in guys. They are always not that attractive, complete douchebags plus extremely controlling.” “The worst part is that she bows down to them like they’re her fucking god and lets them walk all over her, practically worshipping the ground they walk on.” Noelle paused, taking a frustrated puff then passed it to Calvin. “I just wish she knew she’s better than that.”

A few silent moments passed, Calvin decided to chime in, “She’s looking for love in all the wrong places,” he half-sang with a goofy smile across his bearded face. Luna, Valley, Morgan and Noelle looked at one another as if trying to comprehend the humor.

“Oh come on, you guys never heard that song?”

“No one cares Calvin,” Luna playfully teased, snatching the navy blue beanie from off his head, her low cut shirt exposing more cleavage as she leaned forward. Noelle liked to think that Luna had something special one might refer to as an ‘old soul.’ She had these tender eyes, consumed with blazing passion that told their own story. Sort of like looking into a veteran’s eyes, seeing the heavy melancholic weight they carry, attempting to imagine the unspeakable horrors they’ve witnessed. But Luna’s were different, because not only did they appear to have endured times of tragedy, anguish and suffering, they also seemed to have experienced true joy, erratic, intense love and pure bliss. Every emotion known to man was trapped within her eyes, like a shaken snow globe, a whirling pool of vivid uncertainty. Suddenly, breaking the mellow, comforting atmosphere, an aggressive, hollow banging echoed throughout the house.

“What the he-,” Morgan managed as she pulled herself up off the bed. Noelle and Calvin exchanged confused looks while Luna followed Morgan to the open window after ashing the remnants of the leftover blunt. Valley remained unscathed by the disruption, continuing to blankly stare at the patterned sheets of the bedspread. “Mom’s going to be pissed,” Morgan half-whispered, holding the curtain in one hand, as she looked down towards the front door, with Luna closely behind. The banging continued, this time along with senseless shouting and hushed laughter. Luna let out an aggravated sigh as she looked back up from the cluttered window. “Oh my god.” The curiosity spiking her interests, Noelle began making her way towards the commotion. “What? Who is it?” She asked, despite being only a few steps away from discovering the answer.

Morgan finally turned, with an irritated expression painted across her face. “I’m going to fucking kill Raquel.”

“Dan, could you stop being so obnoxious man?” Ocean asked, the question phrased more like a demand, as he pushed his brother’s flailing hand away from the door. Danny slowly turned his head towards Ocean, looking him dead in the eyes with a psychotic smile and replied by shrieking at the top of his lungs what sounded like what was supposed to be an odd rendition of ‘Mary had a Little Lamb,’ while simultaneously slamming his fists against the wooden door. Raquel and Eliza snickered, only encouraging Danny’s juvenile behavior. Ocean, realizing there was nothing he could do to stop Danny from acting like a complete ass, gave up and started walking away until he felt someone grabbed his upper arm.

“Come on Ocean…lighten up,” Eliza pouted as she slid her hand down to his elbow. Her pungent perfume almost suffocating him as she brushed her body against his. Hastily, dismissing her advances Ocean wandered off towards the driveway, to silently wallow in the regret of allowing his insufferable brother to convince him into coming. The tips of Ocean’s wavy, chestnut hair barely touched his shoulders as he looked up towards the open window where he saw moving shadows and heard the scurrying of feet. A freckled face emerged from the floral printed curtains. His deep blue eyes locked with her amber gems for what was probably about half a second but felt like an eternity. Her wild strawberry curls, held back behind her ears, began falling into their original place as if to demonstrate how they could not be tamed. She swiftly glanced away, her cheeks slightly pink and adverted her eyes towards Danny’s noisy antics. Ocean remained gazing in her direction with a half-smile on his face until she disappeared beneath the curtain’s mask of obscurity. It was like listening to a good song. You can’t just stop in the middle, disrupting the rhythm and ambiance, you have to complete the journey, allow it to sweep you into a new state of mind, the lyrics broadening your perspectives on life. And those blazing amber eyes could alter the most tenacious of minds.

The front door burst open. “My mom is trying to sleep, what is your problem?” Morgan fumed in a snappy whisper. Raquel moved forward, her golden ponytail swinging to each side in time with her footsteps, “Sorry, Danny gets a little too excited someti-“

“Why are they here?” Morgan abruptly interrupted, clearly not in the mood for small talk. Realizing the harsh implications one might make from her question and tone, she decided to elaborate. “We were only expecting you.”

“I may have forgotten to mention a few details.”

Morgan rolled her eyes as far back into her skull as humanly possible, “No kidding.” Raquel’s short, red dress, flattering her rosy undertones, danced with the wind as it flowed by. Her bold lipstick which was somewhat smeared around the corners of her mouth gave the deception of fuller lips and her tawny wedges extenuated her already tall, slender figure. Attempting to radiate the illusion of elegance and poise, her insecurity and desperation were too apparent to oversee. Mascara, which was faintly smeared underneath her eyes, indicated she had been crying not that long ago. Noelle walked in from behind Morgan, her brows knitted together with confusion, “What’s going on?”

Danny, wrapping his arm around Raquel and Eliza, decided to answer the question, “Let’s just cut the bullshit alright. We have beer and are cordially inviting you to join us on this momentous occasion and bask within our splendor.”

Noelle and Morgan exchanged suspicious glances.

“Pay no mind to him,” Raquel said, pushing Danny aside. “Look, me and Kevin broke up today and I-,” she anxiously bit her bottom lip, her voice coated with sincerity. “I just wanted to have a good time with you guys, so please…come.”

#young adult #fiction #literature #my words #excerpt from a book i'll never write #well actually im pretty determined so #lets change it to #excerpt from a book i might write #smoking #teens #story #prose #friends #love #:)#grunge #writers of tumblr #writelr #writeblr

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