#this is…. not conducive to my fic writing tonight

[eenochian]

i found a song that i listened to the night before my family had to put one of my cats to sleep and now i am just. sitting here crying. fuckin hate it here man.

#i know this is probs annoying and depressing #so i’m sorry #but at the same time.. #idk i guess i just. have to talk about my grief #it’s been just over 6 months #(it was april 1st that we put her down) #and i keep thinking that i’m over it until i think about her again #i know this is probably so insignificant to people. but she was my first loss. #we had her for almost 10 years. since i was 10 years old. #i felt so lost for weeks after she passed #i’d just wander around the house like a zombie. i couldn’t think. couldn’t figure out what to do. #i didn’t even realize i was wandering aimlessly until my mom pointed it out. she always had to distract me– give me smth to do #so i wouldn’t just sit there staring into space. #this is…. not conducive to my fic writing tonight

[ghostofskywalker]

Congrats on your amazing accomplishment! I'd like to submit a request for your event. I was thinking of a fic for a female reader and either Wolffe or Cody. My idea was that the reader works with either the 212th or 104th and has feelings for her Commander. Unbeknownst to the reader, her Commander has feelings for her as well. For whatever reason (winning the war, undercover mission, or whatever you're feeling), the battalion has to attend a black-tie formal event, and everyone (especially your Commander) is blown away at seeing you in a gorgeous floor length dress and all dolled up. That evening, the pining is unreal, and feelings are finally revealed🥰🥰🥰 Congrats again, and thank you for sharing your amazing work!!!❤️😁👍

thank you so much!! here is the fic, i hope you enjoy reading it as much as i did writing it :)

words: 1,808

summary: there's only one thing that makes an event like this worth going to, and wolffe doesn't realize what that is until he sees you walk by in a bright red dress.

clone troopers masterlist || join my 3k celebration!!

Hard to Breathe

If Wolffe got to choose a way to celebrate the bravery and honor of his troops, he definitely would not have picked a gala like this. They had recently returned from a mission that apparently caught the attention of the Senate and the Chancellor, and now the entire company was wearing their officer’s dress uniforms and awkwardly shuffling through a ballroom while people tried to make small talk to them about the horrors of the front lines. 

“Do we really have to go to this thing?” he had asked the general the day before, the scowl on his face only growing when the Kel Dor nodded. 

“The Republic would like to acknowledge the bravery of this battalion. We may wish their support came in a different manner, but it is important that we put our best foot forward tomorrow evening.” 

Wolffe could read between the lines. He knew that meant he was required to attend, no matter how much he didn’t want to. It also meant that they were doing this partially to keep the Senate on their good side, and that even the General saw the uselessness in this kind of celebration.

And so far, Wolffe was feeling incredibly bored. The food and drinks were high quality, but that was the only good thing about this whole event. Or at least, it was until he saw you walk through the doors. 

He didn’t usually forget how to breathe. Wolffe was a seasoned commander who had served on the front lines of the war from the moment he left Kamino, and he had been on more life threatening missions than he could shake a stick at. He also had a reputation for being calm and collected, no matter what the galaxy threw at them, even when they were faced with certain death. 

But of the sudden, as he stared at you in a bright red dress, he felt like the entire world stopped. His brain had to metaphorically slap him back into function, because he had genuinely forgotten how to breathe. 

He was a goner, he knew that now. 

There was only so many times he could deny his feelings for the battalion’s civilian secretary when being questioned by Sinker and Boost, and now, there was really no way around it. You hadn’t noticed him yet, and he was perfectly fine with that, because he would prefer if he got himself under control before he interacted with you for the first time tonight. 

If it took him a while to remember how to breathe, it took even longer for him to tear his eyes away from you in that dress. Floor length and bright red, the bodice was fitted but the skirt flared out at your waist, making it seem like you were floating over the floor as you took steps across the room to get a drink. 

He had never seen you like this before. War wasn’t exactly the most conducive environment to this kind of dress code, and usually you wore sensible pants and a simple shirt, a symbol of your place on the front lines and your employment by the Republic. You had gone to battle with them before, and even wielded a blaster (something Wolffe was still not happy about). In his mind, you deserved to exist in a world where nothing bad ever happened to you, where you could live your days doing whatever you wanted, and where you could wear dresses like this one every evening for the rest of your life. 

“Not so keen to leave now, huh?” Wolffe knew that voice, and he turned around to give Sinker a disapproving look. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Oh really? So you’re not still scraping your jaw up off the floor because you watched her walk by in that dress?” 

Wolffe huffed. Sinker was right, but he didn’t want to admit it. “Shut up.” 

“You can lie to yourself however much you want, but you can’t deny the fact that your body language tells a different story. Maker, why do neither of you seem to realize that the other is just as disgustingly in love as you are?” 

Wolffe desperately wanted to believe the words of his brother, but he tried not to show it. “You may be right about me,” he said lowly. “But you’re certainly wrong about her, so why don’t you just give it rest before she hears about this and requests a transfer to get away from me.” 

To Sinker’s credit, he didn’t push the topic, but he did give Wolffe a look that clearly displayed his disapproval in how the conversation was going. 

The real moment when Wolffe wanted to strangle his brother began when Sinker called your name and waved you over to them. 

Kriff, you were even prettier up close. 

“How are you enjoying the gala?” Sinker asked. 

You shrugged. “It’s okay, but I think I’d rather have celebrated in more low-key way. Taken the cost of this ridiculous event and given it to you all in gift cards to 79’s, let everyone spend their nights in whatever way they wanted. Or given you an extra week of leave, something more meaningful than this.” 

Wolffe nodded. “I agree,” he said. 

Sinker rolled his eyes. “You both are no fun, perfect for each other. Why don’t you go dance a little, and then maybe you’ll change your mind about all this.” 

Immediately, Wolffe knew what Sinker was doing. He and Boost had also been less-than-excited to have to attend this event tonight, so now he was just lying through his teeth. 

But before Wolffe could apologize for his brother and assure you that you were under no obligation to dance with him, you spoke. “I suppose we could,” you said, extending your hand to Wolffe. “May I have this dance, commander?” 

Not trusting himself to speak, Wolffe just nodded as he followed you to the center of the room. The song was slow, one very clearly played for lovers, and couples swayed together all around them. 

Wolffe’s hands rested on your waist, and he could feel the soft material of your dress. He desperately wanted to run his hands across your back, feeling the way your skin shivered under his calloused fingertips. 

He didn’t really know how to dance as well as some of the other Senators and their partners (it wasn’t really something they covered in basic training on Kamino), but he put all his focus in trying not to step on your toes, and so far, he was successful in his endeavors. 

“I’m sorry you had to waste leave time attending this event,” you said sincerely, looking up at him with a kind expression on your face. 

Wolffe chucked. He would never admit it, but seeing you in that dress and being able to dance with you right now had made this entire experience worth all the trouble. He would do battle a million times over if it meant he would be thanked by you in a dress like that. “It’s okay,” he said. “I suppose it’s better than letting our actions go without acknowledgment.” 

“But still, I wish-” 

“Mesh’la,” he said, the pet name escaping his lips before he could think twice about pulling it back. “I’m serious, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Alright,” you responded. “I’ll let it go.” 

The song ended, and Wolffe let go of your waist, instead reaching down to take your hand. “Do you want to take a break from all this?” he said, leaning down to whisper the words in your ear. “I need some time away from all the stares and smalltalk.” 

You nodded, leading him out the doors of the venue and into a small garden area. Secluded and quiet, Wolffe immediately felt more at ease now than he had for most of the night. 

A comfortable silence settled over the two of you, and Wolffe couldn’t help the way he stared at your dress, the lantern lights in the area dancing across the fabric with every shift of your body. 

Eventually, you spoke. “What does that word mean?”

Puzzled, he looked at you. “What word?” He had an inkling you were asking about what he had called you in the ballroom, but he wasn’t going to admit to anything before knowing if that was indeed what you wanted to know. 

“The one you called me before, mesh’la?” you asked. “I didn’t recognize it.” 

“It means beautiful,” he admitted, voice much more quiet than it had been all night. He was baring his heart to you, and now you would either accept or spurn his affections. 

“You think I’m beautiful?” 

To him, that was the dumbest question he’s ever heard, because of course the answer was yes. But he was no stranger to a spotty self esteem, so he just nodded. “I always have, but tonight only made me more sure. I forgot how to breathe for a while when I saw you walk through the door.” He squeezed your hand. “And I tried so hard not to make things weird when we were dancing, because I don’t want you to transfer.” 

Now it was your turn to be puzzled. “Why would I transfer?” 

“Because you don’t return my feelings,” he said, a twinge of sadness in his voice. “I know-” 

But you cut him off before he could finish. “Who said I don’t return your feelings?” 

“What?” There was probably a better way he could have voiced that thought, but oh well. 

“Wolffe, I’ve had a crush on you from the moment we met. If anything, I thought you were too good for me.” 

“You could never be too good for me, cyar’ika.” Rather than go back and forth for any longer, Wolffe leaned closer to you, and soon your faces were only inches apart. “Can I please kiss you?” 

“Yes,” you breathed, and when his lips landed on yours, Wolffe learned the real meaning of “forgetting how to breathe.” 

He had kissed people before, but no one else could hold a candle to the way your lips felt as they moved against his. His hands found your waist and you pulled away for a split second, eliciting an honest-to-maker whine from the commander. You very clearly got the message, and the two of you remained in that garden, bodies pressed together and lips locked in passionate exploration, separating only to breathe when absolutely necessary. 

There were only thoughts in Wolffe’s mind at this point, and they were: 1) how much he wanted to keep kissing you until he literally had to be dragged away from here, and 2) how much he hoped none of his brothers decided to come looking for the two of you, because he wanted to keep you to himself for just a little while longer. 

- the end -

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#3k celebration requests! 🏖 #commander wolffe #commander wolffe x you #commander wolffe x reader #wolffe x reader #commander wolffe x female reader #clone trooper x reader #clone wars fanfiction #star wars x reader

[thegreatcanadianjackalope]

Hi!! Little prompt for Izzy/fang/frenchie— could we maybe get some Izzy comfort? It could be safeword comfort, things going too quickly and Izzy flipping out, anxious that he safeworded, or it can be comfort for anything! Just lots of Fang and Frenchie working together v well and in sync to take care of their scrungly little man <3

Summary: Frenchie and Fang notice Izzy isn't sleeping well. They want to do something about that.

Fluffy Hut/comfort with some mild discussion of trauma (canon typical)

Note: I love this! I'm going to save the safeword comfort for another story because this is the story that jumped out at me when I read your beautiful prompt.

This is unedited right now. I might come back and clean it up later but for the moment my focus is on getting the writing flowing.

Music inspo for this fic is Rosy Golan's It's Been a Long Day

Fang found Frenchie organizing goods in the hold. He knew it was still weird for Bonnets crew to see Frenchie and Jim doing so much work, but Fang was honestly pleased to see that neither of them were backsliding into laziness. If anything, their hard work was rubbing off on the others.

“Hey, man. How’re things going?” Fang asked.

Frenchie startled but settled into a smile when he realized it was only fang. “Good, yeah. Things are good. Just, you know, keepin’ busy.”

“And everything’s good with the mind box?” Fang asked, gesturing vaguely at his head.

“Yeah, good. It’s good. Everything is you know…” Frenchie trailed off as he looked into the distance.

“Good?”

“Yes. Yeah. Exactly.” Frenchie said, brightening back up.

Fang decided to leave that alone for now. “Listen, have you seen Izzy recently?”

“Saw him this morning, why?”

“Did you notice that he looked a little… unwell?” Fang asked.

Frenchie scoffed. “What do you mean? He looks loads better than he did before. He’s got his new leg on, he’s clean, and he doesn’t even have any visible bruises.”

“That is true,” Fang hedged. “It’s only, I don’t think he’s sleeping much. To me, it looks like he hasn’t slept in a few days.  

Frenchie looked considering. “Hmm, now that you mention it. I did see him practicing his sword fighting really early this morning, and Wee John said he was working real late last night.”

“I guess I’m just worried about him. The rest of us don’t sleep good at all, and we agreed he’s the most fucked up of all of us, so it must be worse for him.” Fang said, not bothering to hide the concern in his voice.

“Yeah, but its not so bad now that the crew is back because if one of us wakes up from a nightmare another crew person is always right there.” A moment of realization seemed to dawn on Frenchie. “Except Izzy doesn’t sleep in the crew pile. He sleeps alone. In the room where Blackbeard took his first toe. Oh shit, babes. Can’t say I blame him.”

Fang felt a blush creep up his neck at the nickname. He absolutely did not let himself giggle. Frenchie calls everyone that. He wasn’t flirting with fang. Besides, Fang was supposed to be solving the Izzy problem. “I wish we could just convince him to join us in the pile, but I don’t think he’d ever go for that.”

“I mean, he has loosened up a lot lately, but that might be a step to far. What if we brought the pile to him?” Frenchie asked.

“I don’t think that’s better. If anything, he’d be mad there was no one watching the deck.”

“No, I meant you and me. We could go to his room tonight and force him to sleep and tell him we’ll watch out for him,” Frenchie suggested.

Fang considered this. Actually, it made sense. Izzy wouldn’t really trust the rest of Bonnet’s crew, Archie and Jim had a particular energy about them. One that wasn’t conducive to a full night’s rest.

Fang agreed and they made plans to meet at Izzy’s room later.

….

Izzy sat heavily on his bed. He knew he needed to take off his hoof and check his leg, but he couldn’t make himself move. He was exhausted. Mentally, physically, emot—nope. Just mentally and physically. He was having trouble sleeping. That was all. He couldn’t sleep because they were heading into a new season and the sun cycles were changing. It was all to be expected. He’d adjust. He would.

Izzy was startled from his thoughts when he heard a knock at his door. Before he could respond, the door opened, and Fang and Frenchie spilled into the room.

“Oh, yes, please do come in. Thank you for knocking. It was very considerate of you,” Izzy said sarcastically. Though he knew that his words lacked their usual edge.

“Hi boss,” Fang said, brightly, “We were hoping to spend the night in here with you.” Frenchie was nodding in agreement.

Exhausted, Izzy asked, “Why? There are plenty of places on the ship if you’re too cold to sleep on deck.”

Frenchie said, “Yeah, but the thing is that Fang here has been having nightmares, and he said he hasn’t been feeling safe enough to sleep lately.”

Frenchie jabbed Fang with his elbow and Fang said, “Oh yeah! Everything that happened just keeps coming back to me. And I thought ‘hey what place is safer on this ship, than with Izzy Hands?’”

The crack of a cannon, a flash of lighting, the glint of light on a saw, and the smell of gunpowder flashed through Izzy’s mind in quick succession. His stomach rolled and he clenched his jaw.

“I’m a cripple now boys. You’re better off with just about anyone else on this ship. Hell, you’d be better off on your own. I’m a liability now.” Izzy didn’t like how truthful the words were, but he was just too tired to cover it up.

Fang frowned, “Boss, you literally saved our lives. You understand that, right? We would be dead without you. Lying at the bottom of sea.”

Izzy scoffed but didn’t argue he didn’t have the energy. He also really didn’t have the energy to watch over them tonight. It was on his tongue to say no when the image of a scene he walked into popped into his head. Fang crying into his cake and Frenchie staring blankly, emptily into the distance. And then, bizarrely, the feeling of Fang’s arms around him and Frenchie’s palm, warm in his.

“Okay, you can stay here. I’ll make sure you’re safe,” Izzy said. He couldn’t tell them that this room had long since been safe, but he thought he could probably make it safe for Fang just for tonight.

“Great!” Fang exclaimed and then immediately went over to Izzy’s dresser. “Frenchie help me with this.” The two began dragging the dresser across the floor.

“What the fuck?” Izzy asked incredulously.

Frenchie explained, “We’re blocking the door with the dresser, so no one can get in. This way, you don’t have to stay up all night.”

“I thought the whole point was that you needed me so you could feel safe,” Izzy said, suddenly feeling useless despite not wanting that responsibility only minutes before.

“This is just the first defence, boss. This way if Blac—Someone tries to come in, we’ll hear them and you’ll be ready to protect us,” Fang said.

“And if there’s a fire?”

Frenchie laughs, “A fire? We’re on the ocean. We’re literally surrounded by water.”

Izzy sighs deeply. “There are so many things wrong with that I don’t know where to start.” The thing was though. In Izzy’s 35 years at sea, he’d only really had to deal with one major fire. Fire wasn’t what kept him up at night. In fact, just seeing the door blocked by that heavy hunk of wood was settling something in him he didn’t care to examine. “Fine. If it makes you feel safer.”

Izzy began the arduous process of removing his peg leg. Before he could even get the straps undone, Fang was by his side.

“Let me help you with that, Izzy.”

Izzy growled, “I’m a cripple not an invalid.”

“He knows that,” Frenchie said. “Helping you will make him feel better, innit? Don’t you want Fang to feel better?”

Izzy huffed but didn’t move to stop Fang as he eased the false leg off and placed it to the side. Fang loosened the tie on Izzy’s pant leg and pulled the leg up his thigh. Izzy wished he had some semblance of embarrassment about this, but the four of them had seen Izzy in every stage of loosing his leg so it wasn’t like he could say it would be a shock for Fang.

Frenchie brought over Izzy’s water basin and said, “Here you go, babes.”

Abruptly, Izzy took in the scene before him. Fang, kneeling on the ground, about to wash Izzy’s stump, while Frenchie watched. Heat creeped up his neck and he felt a bit woozy. This was too intimate. He was too vulnerable. He needed to put a stop to this. He was about to do just that when Fang began gently dragging the cloth across the raw skin.

Izzy’s eyes fluttered shut. When he did this for himself, he was impatient and rough. It had always hurt. Now, with Fang being careful, it didn’t feel good exactly, but it was nothing like the pain he was used to.

“It’s looking better. Does the new leg fit better? You don’t have as many cuts and wounds.” Frenchie asked.

Izzy tamped down on the flare of emotion that burst in him at the mention of that fucking leg. He didn’t think he could speak without his voice cracking, so he just nodded in reply.

Fang smiled up at him and said, “That’s great, Izzy. Glad to hear.”

“You know,” Frenchie said frowning, “Your thigh muscles are looking really tense. Maybe I should just…” As he trailed off, he reached over to grasp at Izzy’s thigh.

Izzy made it through approximately thirty seconds of Frenchie massaging his thigh before he felt a lance of heat in his groin. He jerked back and choked out, “That’s enough. Thank you. I think it’s time to sleep now.”

Frenchie gave him an odd look but didn’t argue. Izzy was honestly shocked that he had felt anything even approaching arousal. He wasn’t sure it was going to possible for him after the Kraken.

Frenchie took the spot next to the wall and Izzy waited for Fang to get in. When he didn’t, Izzy looked at him quizzically.

“If it’s okay with you, boss, I’d rather take the outside. I find it more comfortable, and I get hot easily,” Fang said.

Izzy wanted to argue. Wasn’t the whole point of being here to make fang feel safer? Shouldn’t Izzy be closest to the door so he could spring into action if necessary? Izzy wanted to argue. He really did. But he was so tired. He just didn’t have it in him. His body, without full permission from him, crawled in next to Frenchie.

The bed wasn’t that comfortable for one person, never mind three, but somehow, they made it work. Izzy didn’t protest when Fang’s arms slid around him. There wasn’t really another way to make it work. Frenchie’s head rested against his shoulder and Izzy found he couldn’t really complain about that either.

Izzy was warm, his body was pressed against on both sides, there was no way someone could barge through that door, and he could finally feel himself drifting off to sleep.

Just before he slipped off, he heard Fang’s gentle voice. “You know, Frenchie, that mind box won’t hold forever.”

Izzy felt Frenchie shift against him, could feel the protest coming. In a raspy, sleep filled voice, Izzy said, “He’s right. Just look at me. I thought I had everything locked up tight. Eventually, something has to give.”

Frenchie laid a hand against Izzy’s chest in acknowledgement.

In that same quiet voice, Fang said, “I’m here for you if you need to talk, Frenchie.” Then Fang gave Izzy a squeeze that felt a lot like ‘you too, Izzy’.

No more words were said that night. Instead, Izzy fell into a blissfully uninterrupted sleep.

#Fang/Frenchie/Izzy #A new ship name has been suggessted #Kitty bites #let's see if it catches on! #ouizzy #Frenchie/fang #Fang/Izzy #izzy hands

[seeingteacupsindragons]

I hope you're feeling better tonight!

I was just wondering (and I feel like I should/did know the answer to this, but it's escaping me atm), have you ever considered putting original shorts like Ceiling Fan to the Heart or maybe the technomancer stories on AO3? Just like, as a place to share anything that isn't going to be a full book but that you're still excited to have people read? I suppose without also doing some fanfic it might be tricky to get traction there, but I know I at least would be excited to signal boost stuff. (Also if you had an account I could gift you stuff there. 🥰 Though of course I can and will tag you here!) IDK, I'd just think it'd be great to see your writing out there on a platform that's more conducive to long thorough comments than tumblr is.

Ah, I feel weird putting non-fandom things on AO3. I know some people do and that's cool, but it would feel weird for me to do it. I did used to post things on Fictionpress, although I've since taken all of that down. The account is still up, but it's empty.

I'm really more likely to throw them up on a "Freebies" section of my author website once I make one, or format them as "pay what you want" ebooks or something. I've thought a lot about what to do with things like that, and I think that's currently where I'm at with 'em.

I have considered putting my meta on AO3, as I believe it counts as a transformative work, even if I don't think anyone's going to read meta on AO3 really. But I've mostly decided that sounds like a PITA and keep my meta saved to my hard drive when I want to keep them (most of them).

Also, I do actually have an AO3 account. It's just intentionally uncoupled from the rest of myself. So if I want to talk to an author or something about things unrelated to a particular fic or I want them to know I, specifically, as a person, said it, I'll log out and make an anon comment with my online name, or reach out to the author on another platform. So I'd probably have to make a whole new account to post things.

So that's the state of that, I guess!

(Also the soreness is way better and insurance is getting into gear so that's been really helpful)

[cha-melodius]

Hi :)

I'm so haply you're taking prompts. Can't wait for the fics!!

So, my humble request is number 2 for Napollya (obviously, lol). And just in case, for back-up: number 8 for Napollya in an AU where they are both professional chefs (maybe Gaby can be the judge of which dish is better - she deserves all the free food for putting up with their pining).

In case you like the back-up prompt more, feel free to write that one and ignore the first one.

Thank you and I hope you'll have a great day!!

(I went for your first one, 2. “Are you even tall enough to put the star on top of the tree?”, although your backup was definitely awesome as well. Gonna have to get around to them as rival chefs eventually some day... Thank you!)

A Home for the Holidays

Read it on AO3 (G, 1.3k)

“How long is this going to take?”

Napoleon pauses where he’s in the midst of untangling a mess of Christmas lights and stares at his partner, who’s slumped gracelessly in one of his armchairs, a glass of eggnog in one hand and a chess knight in the other. The annoyance as he flicks it around his fingers is palpable, as if Napoleon is the one responsible for his boredom.

“You know, I don’t recall inviting you over tonight,” Napoleon says with a hum, resuming his untangling. Illya grunts a non-answer. “In fact, I’m pretty sure you just showed up. As you usually do.”

“Because we usually have dinner and play chess. But now you insist on…” he trails off and waves at the tree. “This. Useless.”

Napoleon lets silence stretch for a few minutes as he works on the lights. He knows the decorating is uselessly sentimental. He also isn’t going to apologize for it. “Do you know the last time I actually put up a Christmas tree, Peril?”

“No.”

“Neither do I,” Napoleon says flatly. “Always wanted one when I was a kid, but my father never had the money to buy one at the lots in the city. I told myself when I was old enough I’d have a tree of my own. That way Santa wouldn’t be able to skip over my house, like he always did.” He pauses, glancing up from his work find Illya listening to him intently, the knight frozen in his grip. “This is me finally giving in to that childish oath, I suppose.”

“Why not before?” Illya asks.

“Huh?”

“You had money before now. Could get a tree any time you wanted.”

Napoleon huffs a humorless laugh and shakes his head. “I guess it never really felt like the right time.”

He doesn’t say that Christmas trees are for homes, not hotel rooms or temporary apartments. That a life constantly on the move wasn’t really conducive to celebration. That, despite the fact that he constantly surrounded himself with the who’s who of high society, he never had anyone to celebrate with.

As if he can tell what he’s holding back, Illya asks anyway. “What is different?”

“Dunno,” Napoleon lies. “Just is. You could help, you know.”

Napoleon doesn’t expect the jibe to prompt Illya to move from his perch, and he certainly doesn’t expect a large hand to pull the tangle of lights out of his grip. He looks up to see Illya staring down at him with an expression on his face that Napoleon would almost call soft if he didn’t know better.

“Thought you would be better with knots, Cowboy.”

There’s no way Illya meant it to be as suggestive as it comes across, but that doesn’t stop a smirk from quirking Napoleon’s lips. It’s simply too much of a softball to resist. “I’m better at tying them, actually.”

To his surprise, Illya’s eyes go slightly wide at that, and little spots of color appear high on his cheeks. “Noted,” he mumbles, clearing his throat and focusing a little more intently on the lights.

Illya, as it turns out, is actually a lot better at untangling the strands than Napoleon is. No doubt this will be another thing lorded over him from now until the end of time, although that would mean Illya would have to admit he actually helped Napoleon with his Christmas decorating, so maybe he’s safe. They get into a groove of Napoleon stringing the lights on the tree as Illya unravels them bit by bit, until soon enough the tree is quite thoroughly lit.

“Pretty sure this is a fire hazard,” Illya huffs in a blatant attempt at maintaining his rapidly failing grumpiness.

“Shut up and hang some ornaments,” Napoleon retorts with a grin, and he doesn’t bother to try to fight the warmth that fills his chest when a tiny smile slips onto Illya’s lips.

Eventually all that’s left is the star for the top of the tree, which Napoleon is contemplating when it’s unceremoniously plucked from his grip.

“You are too short for that, Cowboy,” Illya teases, grinning now. “Good thing I am here after all.”

“Excuse you, I’m plenty tall enough to reach,” Napoleon scoffs.

He makes a grab for the star, but Illya dodges him and holds it over his head, which is just not sporting. Too bad for him they’ve been sparring in the months since UNCLE set up its headquarters, and by now Napoleon is well aware of all the weak spots Illya claims not to have. He knows, for instance, that if he goes for a particular spot on Illya’s waist he can make the Russian fold up like a clam, which brings the star well within his reach. Snatching it away again, he tries to flee, but Illya is too quick. He catches Napoleon’s wrist and twists it behind his back, almost shoving him face first into the Christmas tree. His thumb digs into the soft spots between Napoleon’s tendons, forcing his hand to open. Illya doesn’t let go once he’s recovered the star, though; instead, he takes a step closer, so he’s basically pressed up against Napoleon’s back with his arm trapped between their bodies. Frankly Napoleon has no clue what he’s doing, until Illya reaches over his shoulder and deftly places the star on the top of the tree.

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” Napoleon huffs, but then he twists enough to look back at Illya’s smug, triumphant expression, and fuck.

They’re, well. Quite close together. He knew that, logically, given that he can feel the heat of Illya’s chest against his back (to say nothing of his paradoxically cold hand still wrapped around his wrist), but the reality of it didn’t really sink in until this moment. He can tell it didn’t occur to Illya, either, by the way the smirk slowly slips off his face. His grip on Napoleon loosens, but he doesn’t step back, and Napoleon doesn’t pull away.

“I lied before,” Napoleon murmurs, the words spilling from his lips before he even knows he’s going to say them. Illya blinks at him, understandably confused by the abruptness of this statement. “I do know why it’s different this year.”

“Oh?”

He really shouldn’t. He needs to just shut up before he does something monumentally stupid. There’s such a thing as too much honesty, which is not something he’s ever had a problem with before. Apparently he’s had too much eggnog tonight, though, because he says, “It finally feels like home. This place. UNCLE.” He pauses and swallows. “You.”

Illya’s hand falls away from his wrist then, and Napoleon is sure he’s just fucked it all up. Only an absolute idiot would admit to his partner—a man he has to see every day, who he’s known less than a year, who probably thinks of Napoleon as a kind of annoying friend at best—that he feels like home, Christ, what was he thinking, well he wasn’t, that’s the problem, and—

Then Illya’s hand comes up to his jaw, drawing him into a soft kiss, and the cacophony of his spiraling thoughts goes blessedly silent. There are no more doubts, no self-recriminations, no catastrophizing—just the feeling of Illya’s lips moving gently against his, the scrape of his stubble, the press of his fingertips into Napoleon’s scalp, the heat of his body as his other arm curls around Napoleon’s waist and holds him close—and if Napoleon thought he’d found his home before it was nothing compared to this. It’s as if he was made to fit in Illya’s arms, their bodies slotting perfectly together, and quite frankly he never wants to leave.

Eventually, though, Illya pulls away slightly, just enough to stare down into his eyes, his thumb sweeping almost idly over the crest of Napoleon’s cheekbone.

“Not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?” Napoleon asks, not bothering to try to suppress the no doubt utterly besotted grin that tugs on his lips. 

“Because it is the same for me, Cowboy,” Illya answers with his tiny smile. “This… feels like home.”

#napollya #napoleon x illya #napoleon solo #illya kuryakin #tmfu #the man from u.n.c.l.e. #the man from uncle #napollya fic #tmfu fic #my fic #1 million words challenge

[tellthatbrokebitch]

guys i’m sorry it’s taking me so long to write chapter four. part of it is that this is such an important chapter and everything i write for it seems like it’s messing it up. part of it is that i’m still adjusting to where i’m at and it’s not an environment that’s very conducive to writing. i have almost 7k written but that’s like nothing compared to where my outline says i should be at

i know it’s not like a super popular fic so far and that odds are no one reading this knows what i’m talking about or even cares, but the longer the process takes, the more anxiety i feel over it, the more fear that ppl are gonna forget about it and by the time i’m ready to update no one will care

basically i am a mess lmao which is nothing new. i’ll post a snippet later tonight tho!!!

#tellthatbrookebitch #itmlaitid fic updates

[the-iceni-bitch]

A Warm Fire

Pairing: Valkyrie/Brunnhilde/Fem-Reader

Word Count: 3876

Summary: Val helps you warm up after you get caught in a storm.

Warnings: Fluff, Spoilers for Avengers: Infinity War and Endgame (erring on the safe side with this one), Explicit language, explicit sexual content (oral sex- f receiving, scissoring, fingering) SMUT, 18+

A/N: I’ve decided for my b-day week I want to bless all you sweet bitches with a brand new smutty fic each day. My holes are worn out from all the rough himbo sex I’ve been throwing at you, so today I wanted to soften things up with something for my WLW ladies. I sub for no man, but Val could spit in my mouth and turn me into a housewife!

“Well, fuck.” You sighed.

You had hoped you’d be able to outrun the storm you saw rolling in off the coast on your weekly trip to New Asgard but hadn’t even been driving for an hour when lightning started streaking across the sky and the clouds let loose a deluge that had your ancient pickup’s wipers maxed out. You couldn’t even see 20 feet in front of you and slammed on the brakes suddenly when you came upon a massive tree blocking the road. The engine stalled out and you had now been trying to turn it over for 10 minutes with no luck.

You had thankfully been able to contact Aud and Sigurd and have them bring your animals in and batten down the barn, but there was no way you were making it back tonight. You resigned yourself to sleeping in your front seat when a pile of rocks reared out of no where and tapped on your window, causing you to let out a shriek.

“Everything ok in there?”

“Jesus Christ, Korg, what are you doing out here?”

The massive Kronan straightened back up and you thought you saw his brow furrow before his face split open in a wide grin.

“Y/N, excellent! Some of us got concerned once the storm rolled in and Val sent out a group to make sure you made it off of the Fjord ok.”

“Ok, well clearly this piece of shit is not cut out for Skagerrak storms.” You told him as you stepped out into the deluge, pulling your parka around you tightly as the wind tried to whip your hood off. “I don’t suppose you drove here in any sort of vehicle?”

“As a matter of fact, Miek drove the Jeep.”

“I’m sorry, Miek drove?” The thought of the Sakaarian larval creature driving a vehicle filled you with equal parts horror and mirth. “Do you mind if I drive us back?”

“Probably for the best. I told him that knife hands are not conducive for steering but you know he doesn’t listen to me.”

You let out a laugh as Korg lumbered into the large trailer hooked to the back of the Jeep, causing it to sink into the mud a bit. Miek scooted into the passenger seat as you turned the vehicle around and started to head back to Tønsberg.

Your cautious driving extended the trip by a good 45 minutes. The thunder had stopped but it was still pouring as you parked the jeep in one of the converted stables. Korg and Miek gave you a wave as they headed back to Thor’s, Korg carrying 3 of the pallets of Aquavit you had brought with you earlier.

You headed towards the town square and saw Brunnhilde leaning against the posts in front of her small brick house, watching the storm that was still raging out at sea before she saw you and broke out in a grin.

“Y/N, I told you not to head out in this! That piece of shit truck of yours give out on you?”

“What do you think, Hilde? I just decided to walk all the back to your house for fun in this?” You shook out your hair as the two of you stepped inside, spraying her with a thin mist of rainwater.

“Ah, you bitch! Get out of those wet clothes, I got a fire started and some dry towels and blankets set out for you. Want a hot toddy?”

You winced at the thought as you started peeling yourself out of your soaked jeans. “I’d like to be able to wake up tomorrow hon. Your hot toddys are literally just a hot mug of Aquavit with a slice of lemon.” You cursed yourself silently for introducing the Asgardians to the spicy Scandinavian liquor that you now had to truck in every week. While it was extremely lucrative, they now put it in everything.

Hilde sauntered back into the main room carrying two steaming mugs as you wrapped yourself in a wool blanket and settled in front of the fire, wearing only your bra and panties.

She rolled her eyes at you and handed you a mug, which you took a wary sniff of and were pleasantly surprised to find it was just peppermint tea.

“You’re just a lightweight.” She said as she curled up in her armchair, wrapping one hand around her mug while the other picked up the worn book that was sitting on the end table.

“How do you like it so far?” You asked her, sipping your tea slowly as you waited for it to cool.

“The writing is lovely, but it’s pretty inaccurate.”

The friendship the two of you had built over the past 3 years was something truly lovely. When she and the rest of the refugees had landed, after the snap, they were all hollow shells of grief. Thor shut himself away almost immediately, and Hilde found herself thrust into a position of leadership she had never wanted. All of them wanted nothing more than to be left alone with their sorrows, doing just enough to keep themselves alive.

The first storm off the Skaggerak had almost devastated their new home though, and when she contacted Banner for help, he called you. You still kept in touch after your years together at university, and he knew you had settled somewhere in Norway and could arrive to lend a hand faster than he could.

Your arrival brought some much needed distraction to their sleepy town. You had managed to round up a group of your Norwegian neighbors, along with some fellow expats, and set about making the necessary changes to assure that New Asgard would be a thriving community. While the rest of your group set to restructuring architecture, and teaching the town’s new inhabitants the necessities of a seaside existence on the windy Fjord, you began the slow process of helping the refugees move on from their sorrow.

Your anthropology doctorate was specialized in Norse culture, after all, and you would often bring small reminders of their lost home with you whenever you came to visit. Whether it was a collection of replicated Talharpas, Skalmejens, and Lurs to give to the children to learn music or a large cache of drinking horns to stock their taverns, every time your truck came lumbering down the hills, Brunnhilde watched the faces of her citizens light up with anticipation for some new pleasant surprise. When you arrived with your first load of Aquavit and spent the night drinking with them and singing the drinking songs they knew well, you were all but confirmed as an honorary Asgardian. Your haunting rendition of Lilja actually brought tears to a few eyes.

Brunnhilde made sure to let you know how grateful she was as much as possible. She would always have some small gift for you when you arrived, but all you asked her for was to sit and talk, discussing the history of Asgard and the nine realms as you scribbled copious notes. She loved watching your face screw up in concentration as you bent over one of your notebooks, one stubborn lock of hair falling into your face.

She laughed to herself softly now as she remembered the visit a few weeks ago when she had first introduced you to her winged steed, Aragorn. Your look of awe had been replaced quickly with uncontrollable laughter when she had told you his name. You refused to tell her what was so funny, but she was determined to get it out of you at some point.

You had brought your original copy of Snorri’s Edda the next week, and she had read it through 3 times already.

She ran her hands softly over the spine of the book before tossing back the rest of her toddy and setting the book and her mug back on the end table before sinking to the floor behind you and nuzzling herself into your hair, sighing as she inhaled the scent of fresh rain.

You leaned back into her slowly, giving a soft hum of contentedness. She slipped the blanket off of your shoulders to pool around your waist as she left a trail of soft kisses down your neck, before softly raising a bruise into your collarbone with her mouth.

The moan you gave her made her grin against your skin, and she slipped one hand into the front of your bra, softly drawing her fingers across your nipple.

“Fuck, Hilde!” you pressed your chest further into her hand as her other moved behind you to unhook your bra and slip it off your shoulders, freeing your breasts. She felt your nipples harden against her fingers as she turned your head and slowly teased your mouth open with her tongue.

“Eyes open, pretty girl.” She whispered as her left hand continued to palm at your breast and roll your nipple between her fingers. You stared at her through your lashes as she brought her right hand up and put her index and middle finger in your mouth. You gave them a soft nip before sucking and swirling your tongue around them slowly.

She grinned at you wickedly as she dragged her soaked fingers down your torso at an agonizing pace, leaving a thin trail of your saliva before she tucked them under the edge of your panties and dragged them over your sopping cunt, separating the soft folds there to tease against your entrance.

“Oh, poor baby, look how much this pussy missed me?” She said as you let out a thin keen, screwing your eyes shut and dropping your head against her neck. She slapped your tit suddenly and tweaked your nipple hard, making you gasp. “You better keep those eyes open if you want me to let you come sweetheart. You want me to stretch this pretty pussy around my fingers and make you feel good?”

“Yes, god” you let out breathlessly, forcing your eyes open as she studied your face.

“Ah, ah, ask nicely.”

“Yes please.” You hissed as her fingers continued to tease at your folds, lightly brushing against your clit.

“Good girl”

She slipped one finger inside of you slowly and you immediately clenched around it as she pressed it against that soft spongy spot.

“Ooh, honey. You’re so fucking tight, I’m gonna stretch you out so good.” She whispered against your lips as she kissed you softly.

Her second finger slipped in easily and she started fucking them into you slowly, pressing her palm against your clit as she did so and your arousal seeped all over her hand. Your breath was hitching in your chest as she increased her pace.

You felt yourself flutter around her and it took all of your willpower to not screw your eyes shut and drop against her shoulder. You ground yourself against her hand as she suddenly slowed down, hungry for more friction.

“You want me to add another finger, sweet girl?” She asked slyly, teasing her promise against your entrance.

You didn’t trust yourself to speak so you nodded at her, your chest heaving as she continued palming your breast and you felt a resounding shiver in your core.

“You’re lucky I’m soft on you sweetie, I should be making you beg for this.” She murmured as she shoved all three of her fingers in suddenly, causing you to let out a small cry as she started fucking them into you at a rough speed. “I’m just finishing you off so I can feel this sweet mouth of yours on my cunt. You want to taste me baby?”

“Shit, Hilde!” The thought of her taste on your tongue sent you over the edge as she drove her palm into your clit one last time and you released around her, fluttering as you soaked her hand. Her strong arms held you still as your orgasm wracked you and every muscle trembled. Once you had ridden it out, she drew her hand out of your ruined panties to suck on her fingers.

“Mmm, you taste so good honey. Don’t you think?” She placed her mouth on yours and pressed her tongue against yours and you moaned as you tasted your own release.

“Help me out of my clothes baby, I need to ride that pretty face.”

She climbed around you and settled into your lap, kissing you deeply and making happy little humming sounds. You drew her sweater up over her head and tossed it aside, and were pleasantly surprised to see she wasn’t wearing a bra. You gave her a wicked grin before lifting her up and pressing her chest to your face, latching your mouth to one of her nipples as your hands cupped her ass through her leggings. She gave a light laugh and tossed her head back as her fingers carded themselves through your hair. You brought one of your hands between the two of you, shoving it down the front of her leggings and drawing your fingers through her slick, making her gasp.

“God, baby, you’re so fucking greedy.” She laughed lightly as you peppered her chest with kisses, occasionally creating some light suction with your tongue to raise a light bruise. “Mmm, you know just what to do, but I want to come all over that beautiful face of yours.”

You smiled against her chest as you gently nuzzled yourself between her breasts before falling back abruptly and making her gasp.

“You are being such a trouble maker, today, Y/N. Fine, I’m going grind your pussy so good before I rub that smirk off your face with my cunt.”

She sat up between your legs a drew your soaked panties off before removing her own leggings. She stretched your right leg off to the side and lightly drew her fingers up the inside of your thigh, removing them right before she reached your quivering pussy and making you whine.

“Don’t be a brat baby. Look at this pretty pussy, just weeping for me.” She stared at your swollen cunt with a grin as she hooked a hand under your left knee and positioned herself so she was straddling you, her soft folds just kissing yours as she hovered there. “You want to feel my pussy on yours, baby? Want me to grind that clit so good? You better fucking beg for it.”

“Oh god, pleasepleaseplease…” you let out in a hiss as she pressed herself down and ground herself into you.

“Mmm, I feel that sweet pussy quivering for me. God, you’re like my own fucking vibrator.” She kept twisting her hips into yours, hitting you at that perfect angle each time and making you mewl and whimper unintelligibly as she edged you closer to your release. She unbent your right leg slowly, running her thumb up your calf before nipping at the pad of your big toe, making you arch into her. “No no, sweetheart, isn’t it so much better when you hold still? You know I’ll take care of you.”

She stretched your right leg out so you were wide open and pinned your thighs down with her hands as she picked up the pace. She bit her lip and gazed down at you through hooded eyes and you felt her core twitch against yours. One more drive of her hips and you came apart at the same time, your releases mixing together to coat the insides of your thighs. You let out a scream while she just gasped, still managing to hold you down as your pleasure wracked through you and you wound your hands into the blanket beside you for some kind of anchor.

“Fuck baby, this pussy is so good to me. I wanna run my tongue over this pretty cunt while I ride your face. You better be good for me.”

She twisted herself around to straddle your face. You softly nipped at her left cheek then gave her ass a slap, making her yelp, and she responded by smacking your pussy twice before grinding into your face.

“Oohh, are you going to be a bad girl?” She scolded you as you wrapped your arms around her thighs and teased her folds with your tongue. “Am I going to have to edge you all nigh… Fuck!!” Your tongue found her entrance and you moaned into her cunt, causing vibrations that made her clench against your face. “God, baby, you’re so good at that. Your miss this pussy so bad, look at the mess you’re making.” She separated your folds and softly blew against your clit before shoving three fingers into you with no preparation. “Mmm, you’re fucking ready for me sweetheart, I’m barely even stretching you now. You want me to add another finger?”

She gave your clit another soft slap and you came suddenly, legs and core trembling as you clenched and released around her fingers. You tried to come up for air, but Hilde just ground her hips into your face.

“Na-ah.” She scolded you. “You wanted to get fresh with me and now you better make me come if you want to breathe. You get to work. I’m going to wring every ounce of pleasure out of this pussy until you give me what I want, I don’t care if you pass out.”

She inserted a fourth finger into your canal and started to fuck them all into you, flicking soft kitten licks against your small bundle of nerves before she latched onto it, sucking hard.

Tears started streaming down your face as another orgasm ripped through you. You were starting to feel light-headed from a mixture of pleasure and oxygen deprivation. She drew her tongue slowly up and down your entrance while her fingers kept moving inside you, doing her best to lap up your release before her tongue went back to massaging your clit.

You barely skimmed your teeth against her clit and she let out a soft cry against you, slapping your pussy in response and making you come again. You shook your head to bury yourself deeper into her folds and fought off the urge to pass out before shoving your tongue into her pussy and bringing your fingers up to rub harsh circles into her tiny apex of pleasure.

She collapsed against you at the sudden change in sensation with a gasp before she rose up to really grind into you.

You started fucking your tongue in and out of her, making sure to press it against her g-spot each time and felt her thighs tense around your face.

“God baby, don’t fucking stop. Fuck, just like that, right there. That tongue of yours is so fucking good. You’re so fucking good. Feels so good.” You knew when she started babbling breathlessly like this she was close. She brought one of her hands up to palm her breast as her other gripped the wrist of the hand you had working her clit, making sure you didn’t move away.

Just as the edges of your vision started to close in, you felt her core vibrate and her cunt clenched around your tongue as her release gushed into your mouth. The only sound she made was a rapid breathless pant and she rolled off of you slowly, finally allowing you to suck in oxygen as stars swam behind your vision. You did your best to catch your breath as you felt her stretch languidly beside you before she sat up to stare at you.

“Fuck, baby. I don’t know why I let you take this pussy away from me. I know you just lay there by yourself every night dreaming of my fingers buried in you.” She slowly drew a hand along your slit and you groaned when she brushed against your overstimulated clit. “Just swollen and crying for me. Whose pussy is this baby?” She asked you, curling her fingers against your mound.

You knew if you didn’t tell her what she wanted to hear, she would wring it out of you, and if you had any more orgasms you were going to pass out. “Yours, baby.” You murmured, staring at her through your eyelashes.

“Good girl.” She patted your cunt twice, making you twitch, before she bent down and kissed you softly.

She stood up and collected your mugs and brought them back into the kitchen, wiggling her ass at you when she felt you watching her, making you laugh.

“Can you throw some more logs on the fire, Y/N? I’ll grab us some clean blankets and pillows and we can sleep out here.”

“Yes ma’am.” You called back to her, breaking the current logs apart with the poker before adding three new ones and stoking it. You gathered your discarded clothes and the soiled blanket in a bundle and headed to the bathroom to put them in the hamper and run a damp towel against your sex to clean up, bringing another out with you as you headed back to the fire, where Hilde had piled a ridiculous amount of blankets and pillows in a massive nest for the two of you.

You sank down next to her and she drew your face to hers for a kiss. You smiled against her lips as you gently drew the soft towel you had brought with you over her cunt and along her thighs to clean her off as she gave a contented sigh.

“Stay.” She said softly, nuzzling softly into your neck as you held her against her chest and slowly sank back against the pile of cushions, giving her hair a soft kiss.

“Hilde, the road is out, I’m not going anywhere until tomorrow.”

“No, Y/N. Stay. Move here with me. I need you.” She looked up at you with genuine pleading in her eyes. You had never seen such open emotion on her face before.

You only had to think about it for a minute. The weeks between your trips were always spent planning your next visit. Thinking over what you wanted to talk to Hilde about. Your bed felt empty without her there.

“I need you too baby. I love you.” You whispered to her, tipping her chin up to look into her eyes as you gave her a gentle smile.

Her face split into a grin. “Is that a yes?”

“Of course, Hilde.”

“Oh god, Y/N, I love you too!” She drew your face down to hers and kissed you deeply, clutching you to her needily before releasing you with a grin. “I miss that pussy almost as much as it misses me.”

You laughed at that and laid back with a sigh. Hilde rested her head between your breasts and brought her hands close around your sides, pulling the thick wool blanket around the two of you tightly.

“Just make sure Miek doesn’t try to fight my sheep again.” You whispered to her, running a hand softly up and down her back.

“That was a misunderstanding.” She smiled against you as her breathing slowed and deepened, and she sunk closer to sleep.

The two of you laid there intertwined for the rest of the night, drifting off as the fire crackled and died. You had never felt so content in your life.

#valkyrie x reader #wlw love #wlw #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #tessa thompson #writing

[wallwriterstuff]

Hey hi hello beautiful people!

So er...I have a lot of explaining to do don't I? Never finished the ficathon, dropped off the face of the earth...oops? I'm so so sorry I just disappeared like that.

Settling into my new job was really difficult and I was pulling 12 hours days. Then my boyfriend tested positive for covid...and gave me it to 🤦‍♀️. Ut's been a very intense month and I simply didn't have the energy to write and interact on here.

But now I do!

My plan is to finish the ficathon by posting the last fic tonight. Tomorrow I'll update the ficsathon list and my masterlist with links to all those new fics. For now my requests are going to stay closed. Its still hard going at work right now so when I go back next week I need to focus on getting back on my feet there.

However, I have two series to be writing for and some asks to answer, so I will still be writing and slowly bringing this blog back to life. Please understand though that my updates and posts will not be as fast or frequent anymore. I am not abandoning this blog, but trying to launch my career isn't conducive to a good work life balance right now and until Ifigure that out I need you to be a little patient when waiting for updates to things like A Little Magic and On Gossamer Wings.

Hope your all still safe and well. I've missed you folks!

#walltalk #twilight fanficion #ficathon #updates #will be a bit fewer and further between #requests are still closed

[sign-from-god-complex]

disruptions

I accidentally started writing this at 1 am the other day and I can’t really be bothered editing it that much, so here! have a logince bullet point fic. 

Roman gets so In The Zone when he's creating that he pretty much loses track of everything around him

and he's found this is particularly noticeable when he's nearing the end of a project

he figures the others must know since it's pretty obvious how little attention he pays them if they try to talk to him when he's in the middle of something

and this is why it strikes Roman as so suspicious that Logan has startled him at the end of a finished product, not once, not twice but three times this week, so far

he's surprised Roman into knocking over a wet painting, dropping an entire cake onto the ground and fumbling a painstakingly careful attempt at a house of cards

each time Logan looked appalled at the result of his actions, moving to try and help Roman clean up, so he doesn't think it's malicious in any way

and yet, it doesn't seem to stop him from doing it

when Roman almost smashes a camera from being jolted out of an extremely productive filming session (if he does say so himself), he decides enough is enough and he has got to figure out why Logan keeps disrupting him

he marches down to Logan's room later that evening, pulling open the door to see Logan staring down at papers littered across the desk, not even looking up at Roman's arrival

"Logan!"

at the sound of Roman's voice Logan jumps about a foot into the air and Roman tries not to feel a little vindicated

and fails

"Oh, Roman. Apologies, I was just-"

"Doesn't matter!"

Logan raises an eyebrow at that but doesn't interrupt.

"I need to know why you've been bothering me so much this week!"

in an instant Logan goes from someone who’s mildly confused to someone who’s trying desperately to pretend they don't know what you're talking about

"Bothering you?"

"Yes! You know--"

Roman waves his hand about as if it has the power to communicate his thoughts better than his brain does

which, honestly, may not be entirely inaccurate at times

"Coming into my room while I'm working, sitting at the kitchen table to work while I'm baking when I know full well your room would be more 'conducive to efficient work habits' or whatever, talking to me!"

"Talking to you."

Roman rolls his eyes, somewhere just north of fond and east of irritated

"Are you going to just repeat everything I say or are we actually gonna have a conversation here, specs?"

"Right, I just..."

Logan blinks a few times, rapidly, as if his brain was lagging and needed time to catch up

it's not an unfamiliar expression with Roman; he does have a tendency to run at speeds Logan simply doesn't

"I'm... not entirely certain what you want me to say."

Roman inhales, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes again

"Well, the truth would be good! Why have you been hanging around so much recently?"

Logan's mouth thins

"Would you believe me if I told you I simply enjoy your company?"

Roman scoffs

"Yeah, right."

but Logan is just shifting uncomfortably in his chair, eyes cast downwards

and suddenly Roman feels kind of like a jackass

"Wait, really?"

"Yes, well, when you're not making fun of me or speaking at high speeds about whatever new thing has captivated your interest, you're actually quite... relaxing, Roman. I like watching you work. And you get this look on your face when you're finishing up a project that just- no, never mind."

"Oh, come on! You've come way too far in this explanation to back out now."

Logan heaves out a sigh, his lips twisting ever so slightly

"It's... intense but in a way that's... It's difficult to explain. You look like you're in your element, like you could accomplish whatever you set your mind to within the confines of your project because you simply know how to do it. It's... well I loathe to say attractive but-"

"Sorry, attractive? Logan, are you saying you have feelings for me?!"

"I believe that's the point I was getting to, yes."

"So, let me get this straight. You've been coming into my room and interrupting my work because you have a crush on me?"

Logan doesn't quite reply to that, simply moving parted lips in a facsimile of speech without any real noise

there's a moment where Roman simply digests that, running his mind back over the past week or so

he wasn't... upset when his projects were destroyed; not really

he was put out, sure, but the look of distress on Logan face (only lasting for a split second, mind you, but long enough) was enough to put that out of his mind

and there was all the slight brushing of their hands that made Roman's skin prickle and heat, the way he'd stuttered when he stood up from grabbing cards off the ground as he was suddenly overtaken by the urge to run his hands through Logan's hair and-

ah.

hm.

"I... the whole excited rambling thing doesn't annoy you, does it?"

Logan, who seems surprised Roman is still willingly standing in front of him considering the circumstances, blinks again

"No, I- I simply wouldn't describe it as relaxing. And anyway, you aren't the only one to do it, so claiming it's annoying would be rather hypocritical of me, in all honesty."

Roman nods, slowly

"Feelings," he repeats again, just to be sure

in return Logan nods too and it seems solemn, somehow, like loving Roman was a sin he was somehow committing

Roman didn't care for that shit at all

"Well, it's just as well I have feelings for you too, nerd."

Logan's eyes spark with disbelief and Roman catches it before it can ignite, tamping it down with a speech he hadn't even realised he'd been writing

"Seriously, you're so endearing; almost everything you do makes me smile. I never thought I would be so delighted by someone organising their bookshelf by publishing date. It's awful, Logan, it's absolutely ridiculous and I love that you do it. It makes me so happy.

"I spent five hours on that painting that I knocked over. Five hours. And I wasn't even mad that it got ruined! You were just standing there with your hands fluttering by your sides like you wanted to help but you weren't entirely sure how to and apparently, somewhere along the line, my brain decided that it was alright.

"And it is... alright. This is alright, Logan. In fact, I would argue this is better than alright."

Logan breathes in, seeming to restart again from the frozen position he'd been in throughout Roman's tirade

"Well, you won't be finding that argument here."

Roman snorts lightheartedly

"There's a first."

there's a crease in Logan's brow and Roman takes the barest hint of a moment to regret his comment

"Yes, Roman, about that-"

"Look, don't worry about it, Lo. If you wanna talk about it, we can, but just... not tonight."

Logan nods, seeming to accept that as a sound decision

"So..."

the words trail off and Roman isn't sure he's ever seen Logan look shy before but he also isn't sure he could call this anything else

"So..." Roman picks up, "Boyfriends?"

the little half smile Logan gives makes something twist in Roman's stomach like pulled taffy, sugary sweet

"Yes, I think I'd like that."

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #logan sanders #roman sanders #logince #lo can write #logan's nervous in this one which is fun #don't usually write the characters as so awkward but here we are haha

[gleefuldarrencrissfan]

Weekly Trope Events

It's with sadness that I have to postpone trope week for a little while. I fully intend to start it up again, but I have too many irons in the fire. I haven't reviewed in weeks, although I have done quite a bit of reading. I can read on the road, in a doctor's office, in the passenger's seat of my car for 20 hours (lol) but I don't always have access to my laptop at those times. Therefore, I've allowed myself to get behind. I'll be honest. It started during mental health week, and reading all of those fics were really hard for me (I have anxiety, PTSD, and depression from pretty complex repeated childhood trauma) and although I don't shy away from reading these kinds of stories, reading that many all at once took a toll. It's no one's fault but my own. I will review these incredible fics, but until I get caught up, I'm going to put the rest of the tropes on hold.

I also have to admit that I have been doing quite a bit of writing, but it's for "the Prom-us" Roulette Fic Event coming next spring. I did not realize how much work it would entail when I started this, but I don't regret it. I promise you that I will start catching these reviews up as soon as I am able, and I'll get a revised timeline out there. October has been a busy but blessed month, but I don't think I've written a single review. Lol. Maybe November will be more fruitful. Bear with me, and remember that you too, my friends, may all submit reviews as well.

Thanks to all of you that have submitted reviews, ideas, and comments. I promise I won't stop doing these. I'm just behind, and when I get behind, I get overwhelmed and put a lot of pressure on myself, which is not healthy or conducive to running a successful blog or my own personal well-being. I love fanfic, Klaine, and this blog, and so its return will be inevitable. Thanks for understanding and look for reviews for disabled Klaine, mental Health Klaine, and enemies to lovers over the next few weeks. There may be one of two tonight or tomorrow if I can refrain from sewing or gluing my fingers together. (Halloween time, friends. I have costumes to finish- LOL).

I think this Gif says it best.

I'm never saying goodbye to you!

#Klaine weekly trope event #Klaine Fanfiction Recs #Klaine Fic Recs

[karasuno-chaos]

Stargazing (Nishinoya x Reader)

And now, a week into December, I present my final fic of Fluffvember! 😂  I was going to try not to repeat characters, but I HAD to finish with Best Boy Noya.  Thanks for joining me on this writing adventure!🤗 -Giz

Word Count:  1,704

Fluffvember masterlist

“Yuu’s here!  I’m heading out!” you shout, slipping on your shoes and running out the door. You hadn’t had plans to hang out with your boyfriend, and as it’s after dark and you still have homework, your parents probably aren’t thrilled he’s picking you up for an evening adventure.  Best to head out before they can stop you.

“Hey,” you greet, giving Noya a quick kiss.

“Want to go stargazing?”

“Sure.”  You would have agreed to anything he suggested because you’re guaranteed to have a good time when you’re with him.

“Hop on,” he invites, patting the handlebars of his bicycle.  It takes a moment to get situated on the perch, but you’ve travelled this way a few times before, and pretty soon Noya is pedaling along the street on the way to a location he promises will have great views.

Your position in front of him isn’t conducive to chitchat, but the trip is short since you both like to go fast.  You fly by his house and take a right to head up a hill.  Noya doesn’t slow down even though the path curves into the trees.  He handles the turns and avoids overgrown roots with the skill of someone familiar with the route.  Even with the insecurity of your seat and the speed of your travel, you feel safe.

You laugh happily as the air whistles past your ears.  Noya whoops in equal elation behind you and starts zigzagging across the path.  You shriek in surprise as you fight to stay balanced, but he laughs and straightens after a moment.  You probably shouldn’t be making this much noise considering it’s after dark, but the nearest houses are now a handful of blocks away, and you’re enjoying the excitement and promise of this impromptu date.  Noya loves spontaneity, and you love seeing where it takes you both.

The path completes its ascent, and you emerge from the trees onto a grassy plateau overlooking town.  The hill drops away steeply on one side, providing an uninterrupted view of the sky.  Noya slows.  You brace yourself as you slide to a stop, hopping off before the lack of momentum allows gravity to imbalance you.  Your boyfriend doesn’t bother with the kickstand, walking the bike a few steps off of the path before letting it drop with a clatter.

“Ta-da!” he announces, spreading his arms to encompass the view.  You’ve been to this spot before but never at night.  The moonlight alters the landscape.  Washed in the blues and greys of night, the streetlights and house windows pepper the countryside like fireflies.  Beyond the town limits, you see a train winding along its track, and cars trace circuits across the land.  You like seeing the world in this new perspective, though the stars are definitely the main attraction.

“You weren’t lying when you said the view was good,” you murmur.

“I wouldn’t have said it if it wasn’t true.”

You don’t tell him that sometimes his definitions of “good” and “amazing” don’t agree with yours.  Instead you step to his side and wrap your arms around him.  He loops an arm around you, too, and you stand together watching the stars twinkle.  They dazzle in their multitudes.  Layers upon layers of brilliant burning lights wink above you.  With Noya holding you like this, you could gaze at these stars forever and be content.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“Do you know how to find any constellations?”

“A few.”

“How do you do it?” he asks.  “I know what some of them look like, but there are so many stars that I can never find them up there.”

You laugh.

“You invited me to go stargazing but you can’t find any constellations?  Bold move.”

“I figured you’d be able to find them for me.  Besides, this was mostly an excuse to see you.”  He grins brightly at you, and your heart beats a little faster.

“You’re just going to forget about the constellations as soon as I show them to you.”

“Maybe, but then you can show them to me again.”

“Okay,” you chuckle.  Noya learns best through repetition anyways.  You wouldn’t mind having more of these stargazing dates.  It’s peaceful on top of the hill when the town is quiet below you and the night wraps around you.

You spend some time trying to trace the constellations.  It’s tricky to pinpoint the exact stars you need when so much of the sky is speckled with them.  Noya complains that connecting the dots doesn’t look anything like the shapes they’re supposed to make, and you agree.

“Are you sure you’re finding the right stars?” he asks, a bit skeptical.

“Yes,” you insist.  “You just need to use a bit of imagination.”

“Well I think whoever came up with these used too much imagination.”

“Maybe.”

“We can do it better.  Let’s come up with our own constellations!”

You laugh.

“I don’t think the astronomical community will throw out years of work to use the constellations of two random kids in Japan.”

“They can do whatever they want.  These can be our constellations.”

Noya always says the most romantic things without a fuss.  His confidence leaves no space for embarrassment.

“See that cluster over there?” he says, and you follow the direction his finger points.  “That’s Asahi’s man bun.”

You laugh.

“Really?  That could be a volleyball or water balloon or any other round-shaped thing.”

“No way.  See how the one side droops just a little bit, and there are those little clusters of stars that are like his hair falling out when he’s in the middle of a game.”

“You pay a lot of attention to Asahi’s hair,” you chuckle.

“It’s the eighth wonder of the world,” he jokes.

“I’m not disagreeing!  His hair is glorious.”

“And now it’s immortalized in the heavens.”  He looks incredibly pleased, so you let him have this one.  You search the stars for other patterns, and after a few minutes you have constellations for Yachi’s hair tie, Suga’s ahoge, Kageyama’s creepy smile, and the vice principal’s toupee.  You’ll probably forget where they are by tomorrow, but you enjoy the silliness for tonight.

“Hey,” Noya says, interrupting your search for something resembling Tanaka’s beanie, “you know in those space movies when they go super fast and the stars blur into lines?”

“Yeah,” you say, thinking of the Millennium Falcon jumping into hyperspace.

“Want to see if we can make that happen?”

“I’m pretty sure we’re several hundred years behind that kind of scientific advancement.”

“Come here.”  He holds out his hands to you, and you take them.  You have a suspicion of what he’s planning as he grins at you.  “Ready?”

“Just don’t take us over the edge of the hill.”

“Taking off in 3, 2, 1!”

You start spinning, leaning back a little as the momentum builds.  Noya’s fast, and soon he has both of you whipping around in circles trying not to trip over your feet.  His eyes are bright, and you can’t help joining in on his joy.  Spinning together feels childish, but it’s fun and you’re laughing.

“Faster!” he cries, throwing his head back to look at the stars.  Somehow you’re speeding up, and you turn your gaze upwards, too.  The sky glitters in kaleidoscope patterns as it wheels above you.  It’s beautiful and disorienting.  You start to feel dizzy, but Noya doesn’t slow down, and you’re still laughing.

Your foot catches against a stone half-embedded in the ground, and you shriek while you stumble.  You don’t have a strong enough sense of balance right now to catch yourself.  Luckily Noya’s instincts are always functioning on high, and as you both tumble to the ground, he rolls to catch you and make sure you don’t bump your head.

You lay in the grass laughing together while you wait for the dizziness to pass.  Then you roll off of him to look at the stars and catch your breath.  His hand finds yours and you lace your fingers together.  You feel light and happy.  In moments like these, you are incredibly lucky.  Noya effortlessly helps you see the joy and beauty of your experiences.  Everything's better when you share it with him.

“Hey,” he says softly, squeezing your hand, “if I went off into space, would you come with me?”

“Like if you just catapult yourself into space?” you ask with amusement.

“No, like if I was going to become an astronaut and go explore Mars or some other planet, would you come with me?”

You turn your head to look at him.  He’s staring at the sky.  You don’t see his usual playfulness, though.  He’s serious, and in his eyes there’s a yearning you’ve only noticed a few times before, a searching and questioning that tugs at your heart.  You follow his gaze to the heavens, wondering what about those twinkling lights stirs something in him.

You consider his question seriously.  Space is vast, and its dangers are many.  You can’t deny there is beauty in the possibilities of discovery, but at what cost would those discoveries come?  You’re afraid of so much unknown.  You glance at your boyfriend again.  You know he isn’t, that he might even thrive on not knowing what comes next.  Noya loves to run forward into possibility unreservedly, and being with him makes you braver.  You don’t want to be anywhere else than by his side.

“If you helped me, I probably would,” you answer softly.  He looks at you, and the grin that spreads across his face is pure and warm.

“Cool,” he says.  You blink, and then you’re laughing because that seems like such an anticlimactic response.  “What?” he demands, but he’s amused.

“Nothing.”  You roll onto your side so you can kiss his cheek.  “Come on, I’d better get home or my parents are going to kill me.”

He sighs but doesn’t argue as you stand.  He rights the bike and walks it back to the path, holding it steady while you take your place on the handlebars again.

“Ready?” he asks.  Most of the return route will be downhill, which means you’ll be going fast, but Noya will keep you safe.  He always does.  The anticipation makes you giddy.

“Let’s go!”

#fluffvmber #haikyuu!! #hq #nishinoya yuu #nishinoya #noya #nishinoya yuu x reader #nishinoya x reader #noya x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! fanfiction #haikyuu!! fanfic #haikyuu!! scenarios #hq x reader #hq fanfiction #hq fanfic #hq scenarios #fluff #stargazing #best boy #guardian deity

[howdoyousleep3]

Hello! I think it’s time for me to follow up as I have received feedback and have other thoughts I’d like to share. 

Firstly, I understand and acknowledge that I should not have used others’ struggles and the BLM protests as a moment to utilize within my writing and with my characters. Those who engaged in discussion with me and let me know their thoughts brought forth the point that this was not a moment for my characters nor myself and that this should be about black voices. I will admit that I am struggling with being told to be silent altogether. I feel that is dangerous. In the future, I will try to use more of a critical eye when responding to posts like the original Ask. 

Secondly, there were two points that were brought to my attention that rocked me to my core: how I included Sam in the response and the outlet that Tumblr is for people of color. Someone pointed out that I never include Sam in fic yet here I was including him in an Ask in such a way. They were entirely right; I should have never used Sam in the way that I did and I regret it immensely. I am so sorry. Someone pointed out that Tumblr is a way for people of color, specifically black people, to escape the day-to-day life that they experience, and to go read my response brought, what they were attempting to escape, to their safe space. I am so incredibly sorry that I contributed to tainting your safe space and promise to make more of a conscious effort in not doing so in the future. 

I have learned things from this experience and moving forward I will try harder as a white writer to evaluate how I should respond to things, if at all. Conversations need to be had. I need to know when I’m wrong. Learning always needs to be happening. 

Okay. Now let’s shift a bit to something that is not discussed here enough because I am fired the fuck up and have some other things to say. I completely understand why people leave Tumblr or social media in general. If I were any weaker and not as stubborn I would cave and leave this blessed hell hole immediately. I made a mistake. I admitted to my mistake. I will remember this mistake for the future. I am aware that, to some people, there is literally nothing I could do to make this better even after so many people came to me telling me what I needed to do. 

People are real brave behind a keyboard. People are quick to send me awful hate and tell me to “fuck off” when they need to be checking themselves as well. Non-black users who are yelling at me about how I need to keep quiet and not use my voice (still don’t quite agree with that) might need to self-reflect some. I feel strongly that this is not a cancel culture issue, which is the main reason I responded to almost all of the posts in the same manner-- so others could learn from my mistakes, so others could see how people felt about my errors so they don’t make the same ones. 

I am a huge proponent about having difficult discussions and not shying away from conflict. Most who engaged in conversation with me had thoughtful things to say and I appreciate you for sharing with me when you most definitely did not need to. Others were horrid and brought nothing to the table but unnecessary and useless drama and maybe if this comes up again you will bring something beneficial to the conversation. You were the ones who almost prevented me from keeping an open mind and not being too emotional to understand the errors of my ways so keep that in mind when you want to help people see their mistakes; you are doing more harm than good. 

Which brings me to one of my main points today--very little of what happened today was beneficial and productive. I know as a white person I have absolutely no right judging black people’s reactions to the struggles I will never experience but this is most definitely different because most of the people I heard from were not black. I personally would not consider myself an ally if I were to be taking away from POC’s safe space by not supporting a conducive and educational environment in which we feel safe to discuss these current issues our fellow users are experiencing for the purpose of growth. We want to learn, want to move forward. What happened today is not the way to do that. I understood the toxicity that is Tumblr before this and I understand it now. 

The second issue I have with what went down tonight is the assumptions about me as an ally and as a person. I think I am so upset because I am very aware of my personal growth as a white ally over the years. If you are genuinely interested in the specific ways I show my allyship outside of Tumblr and in the real world, feel free to send me a message. What I post on Tumblr is not representative of my life and to judge my entire character based on a blog I use for a hobby and an escape, is not only inaccurate, but grossly inaccurate. 

Please kindly sit down for thinking that this mistake with my Ask response makes me a worthless “ally”. 

My main take-away from tonight is that I need to take a step back and critically think about the things I respond to and evaluate whether or not they are tone deaf and irresponsible. I recognize and apologize for what I have done and will ensure that I do not make the same mistake again. I hope that my black followers can see and appreciate this and will forgive me at some point in the future because you are the ones whose thoughts and opinions I value the most. 

I am more than willing to have genuine conversations (read: not futile hate) with others if they wish to continue them, but with the intention of not ruining my black followers’ safe space, I will no longer be posting Asks and having as public of discussions about the issue.

[capricornus-rex]

heey, i was wondering if you could make an imagine with cal, in which he likes the reader and everyone knows but she is oblivious to it. Thanks in advance and sorry if my english isn't perfect I am actually Brazilian. Love ur writing btw

Hey there! I could definitely make it, hence this fic hehe ;) It was fun writing it because an oblivious reader is a first for me. You’re welcome and don’t worry, your english is fine! I hope I didn’t use any difficult words in the fic for you. And thank you! Hope you like the fic 😁😊💕

“The Two Faces of Bracca”

Cal Kestis x Reader

Tags: Non-Jedi! Reader, Oblivious! Reader

Masterlist

The rain had stopped for once in Bracca.

Cal’s division was granted a half-day. It has been a while since they last received such a privilege—that is technically a work benefit—after working on the new acquisitions for a whole week.

“See ya later, Cal!” Prauf waved as Cal walked away.

“Yeah, you too!” the young boy waved back.

He navigated through the inside of the gigantic machinery: shimmying through tight spaces, scaling grates from one level to another, and swung on ropes between large gaps. Cal was a natural at this—after all, he practically grew up here. After passing by a few more workers who have recognized him—and his purpose—they point him to a direction the moment they meet eyes with him; Cal, in turn, nods back at them as a silent thanks, then continues on his way.

He traverses through a series of winding turns in halls that are now tilted sideways due to the position of the ship, risky climbs that involved grabbing on rickety ventilation grates, and climbing up a thick cable as the last part of his route to reach the bridge of an abandoned Republic frigate.

“Hey, [y/n]!” he called as he pulls himself up to the ledge of the opening.

You immediately stop your welding, took off you mask and acknowledged his presence.

“Oh Cal, hey there,”

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

He walked up to you and stood next to you, glancing over your shoulder and studying whatever it was you were tinkering.

“What are you still doing here? Today’s a half day!”

“Oh, right. I clocked out earlier with the rest of you guys, I just went back to finish this.”

“A speeder?”

“Yeah, well, sometimes the lifts barely fly or that the pilot droid’s busted so I figured this would be a better alternative—it’s only a prototype. I think it isn’t conducive for driving yet. I was just about to finish for today.”

You blanketed the speeder with an old canvas tarp and prepared to get yourself cleaned. Cal willingly helped you out in putting away your tools.

“So, are you going to Qeb’s blow-out tonight? His treat, he says.”

“Oh, that was today?”

Cal nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll definitely be there!” you beamed.

“Great! I was… I was thinking we’d go there together.”

“I’d really love that, Cal,”

You could’ve sworn you spotted some color on Cal’s cheeks—even in the dimness of the sky and under the roof of your hideout. You bite your lip and pretend that you didn’t notice it.

“Well, that should be all of your stuff. I gotta go and get changed too.”

“Sure, I’ll see you tonight then,”

“Meet me at the scrapyard’s entrance gates?”

“Of course,”

Cal dismissed himself and left the bridge in the same path he got there. As soon as he got far enough from the bridge, he smuggled a celebratory smile and hissed a very private “Yes!” as he exited your hideout.

Cal met up with Prauf shortly after his visit to you.

“Oh, there you are, kid! Where have you run off to?”

“I just went to [y/n],” Cal couldn’t resist the smile curling up in his lip, it was one of those unconscious yet natural smiles. “I asked her to come with to Qeb’s little party at the pub.”

“So, it’s a date then?” Prauf teased, seeing that he was hopelessly smitten.

The warm color returned to Cal’s cheeks and he has no full control of it. The boy stammers his way to a coherent answer. Prauf bellowed in an endeared laughter.

“Come on, it’s not like that…” Cal defended.

“Oh, Cal, I think it is like that!”

Cal shrugged off the teasing and headed back to his place—an abandoned Venator that he has made into his home. He sheds his black-and-orange poncho on a makeshift rack—one of the many makeshift fixtures that he has resourcefully crafted ever since he’s called dibs on the abandoned ship—followed by removing the top part of his jumpsuit and then proceeds to get himself cleaned.

It was quiet inside his Venator home, but it was a peace that he had grown accustomed to.

He splashes a handful of cold water onto his face. He tilts his face away from the basin, letting the droplets trickle down his neck, his collarbones, and finally down to the groove in the center of his chest. The moonlight shines over the mirror with his foggy reflection, he gently scratches away the grime that collected on his face which he subsequently rinses off. He sighed under the moonlight, then scoops water into his cupped hands and brings it to his mouth. For his finishing touch, he combs and rakes his scarlet hair back like how he always have kept it.

Donning a fresh, black jumpsuit and a second poncho that looks exactly the same as the one he hung, he exits the Venator and makes his way to the entrance gates of the scrapyard—exactly where he promised you and he would meet.

“There you are,”

Your voice caused Cal to spin around until he spots you standing next to him. This was his first time seeing you with your hair down, since you always wear it in a ponytail during work. He examined you from head to toe: a black shirt under a navy blue, sleeveless leather coat, beige pants, and black boots. A new sight from your usually scrapper’s blue jumpsuit and poncho.

“Have you been waiting for a while?” you hummed.

“No, no. Not really,”

“Oh, that’s a relief. Thought I kept you waiting.”

“No, you didn’t. Don’t worry,” he smiled.

Cal walked by your side on the way to the pub, the both of you shouldered through the dense crowd in the city. It wasn’t an easy route though, some of the people accidentally bump or brush against your shoulder or arm as you follow the flow of the foot traffic. Cal decided to put his hand on the small of your back—which somehow made you flinch—guiding you while keeping you close to him.

“You look great, by the way,” Cal bashfully said, in the very little window of time where neither of you are pushing your way through the traffic.

“Thanks, you too.”

Eventually, you’ve arrived to the bar where the get-together was happening. It seems that they were about to start when you and Cal came in. There weren’t many who came, but most of them were from work—ones that you worked closely with and the friendlier ones too. All of you shared a table, exchanged stories about the past week over some drinks.

“I saw [y/n] work on something cool earlier,” Cal blurted and now everyone wants in on it.

“Oh? Let’s hear it!” Qeb, the Besalisk host, insisted.

“Nah, it was only a prototype. It’s a speeder I modified that can carry a few kilos of scrap—in case the lifts are busted.”

“Dibs on the first test drive once you’ve finished it,” Cal casually blurts.

“You got it,” you smile before bringing your glass to your mouth.

At the corner of his eye, Cal saw that Prauf was looking at him funny—but the scrapper boy clearly knows the message that his friend was trying to send. When you have put down the glass, it was too late for Cal to make the move for now. The conversation evolved into a banter of engineering tips, then it eventually transitioned into a recollection of each other’s funny stories that happened at work.

Apparently, the night was still young for Cal and you, even after Qeb’s get-together treat. Cal waited until Prauf, Qeb, and the others have left. He gently nudges you on the arm.

“Come on, follow me.”

A smirk plays along his face and takes a step ahead of you. Intrigued, you willingly followed; fortunately, the foot traffic was sparse, which made it easier for you to catch up to him. Cal led you back at the scrapyard, but along the way, you realize that it’s a route that’s unfamiliar to you.

“Where are we going?”

“Oh, you’ll see!”

The farther you got, the more interesting this became.

“Careful when climbing the cable. Hope you’re not afraid of heights!”

“I’m kinda used to heights!” you chuckled.

The faint creaking of the cable that you were climbing on somehow worried you, but you didn’t let it ruin the fun; the sound of the twanging sound of the cable made your heart skip as you scaled it.

“Whoa!” you gasped when the cable loosened and jiggled, you were still clinging onto it—and you were only mere inches away from the ledge where the rope ends.

In that same split second, you felt Cal’s tight grasp on your arm, you tilt your head up and meet eyes with him.

“Don’t worry, I got you!” he reassured you.

You were startled from the near-death experience that you couldn’t say anything, though he sensed your gratitude.

“Come on, give me your other hand.” He coaxed.

You linked arms with one another and he pulls you up. He loses his footing causing him to stumble to his back, on the other hand, you landed on top of him while he was still clutching you in his arms. You gently lift your heads, exchanged glances at one another, and saw color fill your cheeks. The two of you communicated in small chuckles and shy stutters.

“Sorry,” you mumbled as you bring yourself to your feet, offering him your hand which he gladly takes.

The cycle continued when you pull him up to his feet, his weight nearly made you lose your footing, but he caught you just in time by wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Got you—again.”

Cal releases you after a few seconds and then beckons you to follow him again.

“Are we close?”

“Yup!”

At last, he has led you to the highest point in the scrapyard, atop another Republic command ship but he has brought you to the roof of the main command center—or the bridge. The cold air was breathtaking, as well as the sight that the scrapyard has to offer—silhouettes of ships as far as the eye can see, dark indigo clouds looming in front of the pale, ivory moon.

“Oh wow…” you sighed. “I don’t think I’ve never seen a view of the scrapyard like this before.”

“Wait till you see Option B.”

He chuckled a bit, brings his finger to your cheek, and gently angles your head to the other direction.

The second view stole what little air remained in your lungs. It was a citywide view of Bracca: gigantic hologram projections of advertisements danced between blinding neon lights of every color, speeders and pods sped through in neat lines as they leave trails of lights from their taillights, even the people dotting the streets added some color.

“Oh God…” you gasped. “Why didn’t I see this before?”

“Pretty cool, huh?” Cal said while producing two cans of Jawa juice that he apparently bought earlier at the pub while you weren’t looking. He offered you the second one and clinked cans with one another.

You conversed while staring into the neon light-filled horizon of Bracca. The two of you had the same pose of propping your chins over your fists while sightseeing side-by-side.

Both of you spent the night with more stories, whether they were from the distant pasts—way before either of you ended up in Bracca—your plans for the future, the present, or shallow secrets. No detail was spared from this intimate conversation. In fact, it was one of the very rare moments that you actually open up—Cal was the only person you trusted and he has the same sentiment for you.

Your contagious laughter made Cal’s stomach fill with butterflies as he shared one story about himself as a child involving a cookie jar that didn’t belong to him, conspiring with one of the elderly keepers, and splitting the bounty—which were the cookies—until two in the morning.

When it appeared that neither of you have any more stories of your past to tell, you shift back into the topic of this place that he has brought you to.

“Do you always come here?”

He shakes his head, “Just occasionally.”

“I’m surprised you’ve kept a scene like this to yourself for so long. It’s just so pretty up here.”

“Yeah,” he cooed, then turned his head to you, his next word was a soft whisper. “Pretty.”

Cal watched the streaks of neon flicker as mere lines over your eyes, their glow mingled as they illuminated your face altogether, a smile slowly curls up at the corner of his lips; you slowly turn your head to him, never have you ever been this physically close to him you could practically kiss him.

You shoot him a bashful smile before returning your attention to the cityscape. Seeing your smile was always enough for him, he examined your features once more—for some reason, you looked somewhat a different person when not in your scrapper’s uniform. Nevertheless, he released a long, contented sigh, savoring the night with you by his side.

#cal kestis #cal kestis fic #cal kestis x reader #cal kestis x reader fic #fluff #fluff fic #fic #star wars #star wars fic #star wars jedi fallen order #star wars jedi fallen order fic #jedi fallen order #jedi fallen order fic #sw jfo #swjfo #sw jfo fic #swjfo fic #jfo #jfo fic #ask box fic #fic request #oneshot #ask box prompt #imagine #star wars jedi fallen order imagine #jedi fallen order imagine #requested #requested by #requested by someoneovertherainbowx #prompt

[ddaenggtan]

Could you maybe do a nsfw one where the reader is chubby? I never see any where the reader isn’t skinny 🥺 just sweet sensual vanilla lovey dovey sex please with lots of fluff? Thank you ❤️❤️❤️

yOU MY DEAR are a reader after my own heaRT, this is the exact reason i do my best not to specify what the MC looks like in most of my fics, bc then we can all collectively imagine what we want to, aka i imagine them to be Big and Beautiful just like me and the rest of us people uwu 

bUT HERE u go i hope u like it, thank u much!!!!!! this ends the way it does bc it really just,,,,,,felt right??? idk rip me bUT anyway!! requests are welcome, but there’s no guarantee i’ll do them, since this was a special thing for jiminies bday and also im bad at writing most of the time lmao

pairing: jimin x readerwc: 1147 yIKE this got away from me a lilgenre/warnings: smUT out the wazoo, def 18+ only y’all, body worship?? i guess??, oral: female, face down ass up thats the way y/n likes to fu-, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation a bit too uwu

“Sweetheart,” Jimin’s voice rumbles in your ear. You bury your face in the pillow once more, doing your best to hide your face from him. “Why won’t you look at me, baby? What did I do?”

“Nothing,” You mutter, though it disappears into the fabric of the pillow under your face. Jimin makes a questioning noise from behind you, and you can feel his fingers tracing over your hip where the blanket covers you. You can’t exactly blame him for asking; you’d been making out for what feels like hours, and while you haven’t gone all the way with him yet, you invited him over tonight specifically to do Exactly That. 

Except then his hand went under your shirt and you panicked a little and cocooned yourself in your duvet. Without telling him what was happening. RIP your sex life and your relationship. 

But really, how are you supposed to tell your boyfriend - Jimin, who looks like that with his soft hair and his plush lips and his abs - that you’re worried he won’t like the way you look naked? And you can’t keep your clothes on during it all, that isn’t exactly conducive to getting fucked so hard you can’t walk. 

“I’m sorry for whatever it was I did,” Jimin says quietly. He really does sound truly repentant, and it makes you wince, because it’s not his fault you’re on the heavier side. It’s not really anyone’s fault, really; you just are, and while you’ve come to accept your stretch marks and the way you jiggle and how you can never find jeans that fit right, you aren’t entirely 100% positive that Jimin will accept that. 

He’s quiet while you find the courage to tell him as much; he listens intently, parsing through the muffled words since you still have your face buried in the pillow. It’s not until you’ve been quiet for several minutes that he decides you must be done. He flips himself over you, straddling your hip and tugging gently at the pillow to pull it away. 

“Baby,” He says gently, his lips turned up in a soft smile that lights up his eyes, “I am truly sorry for this. I deeply apologize for letting you think, even for a second, that I might not think you’re the sexiest person I’ve ever seen.” 

You turn to look at him, face burning red with a mix of embarrassment, shame, and arousal. “Really?”

“Really.” He leans down to press soft kisses to your cheeks, trailing down to bite at the skin of your neck. “I promise you, sweetheart, you are absolutely gorgeous, and you’re sex on legs.Every time I see you, I just about lose it. The amount of times I have thought about what you’d look like naked, underneath me...” You rub your thighs together lightly at his words, doing your best not to jostle him. 

“These thighs,” He mutters, sliding his hand under the blanket to massage the meat of your thighs. “I wonder how good they’d look with my head between them. How they’d shake when I make you cum.” You suppress a shiver, and his hand travels upwards. 

“These hips, too. Absolutely perfect for holding onto when I’m behind you, getting so deep inside that you can feel me in your throat.” His hands follow the path his words make, fingers running teasingly along the pajama shorts you’d thrown on before he got there to grip your hips. 

“This ass,” He moans, slapping it lightly. “This ass was made by the gods, and you cannot convince me otherwise. Why do you think I always let you leave first when we get lunch together? Hate to see you go, of course, but, fuck, baby, love to watch you leave.” 

His hands curl further upwards, sliding along your belly. The blanket is gone now, and you can’t remember when he got rid of it, or when he pulled your shirt up enough to pepper kisses along your torso. 

“And your cute belly,” He says, voice husky. “It’s perfect, babe. The best thing about you, really. What else would be the perfect pillow while we binge those dramas you love?” You laugh, shoving playfully at his shoulder as he grins into your stomach. 

“You really don’t mind it?” You ask after a while. He stops kissing his way across every stretch mark that decorates your skin, leveling you with a dark look. 

“Don’t mind it?” He echoes, leaning down to bite at your thighs while his fingers play at the waistband of your shorts. “Baby. I really should show you just how much I ‘don’t mind it.’ Will you let me?” 

You’re nodding before you can think of a reason not to, and within seconds he’s got you stripped naked and on all fours in front of him. Your weight is braced on your forearms, and the air is cold against the wetness of your pussy. 

“Fuck, you look even better than I imagined,” Jimin moans from behind you. Just as you’re about to respond, his tongue licks a thick stripe up your heat, dipping lightly inside before he pulls back; all you manage is a moan, and it makes Jimin laugh. His mouth is on you for what might be hours or might be minutes after that, pulling orgasm after orgasm from you as he sucks on your clit and fucks you with his tongue. 

By the time he’s done, you’re trembling, thighs shaking while they struggle to support you. Your arms have long given out, face pressed into the mattress and panting with the force of your latest orgasm. 

Jimin is gentle as he turns you around to lay on your back. He’s still mostly dressed; he’d lost his shirt nearly five minute after he’d arrived, but his sweatpants are still painfully present. He leans down, covering your face in so many kisses that you can’t help but giggle. 

“You see, sweetheart? There is no ‘don’t mind it’ for me. There’s nothing to mind. You’re a goddess, and I was right. Watching these thighs quake,” His hands slide along them and his grip tightens for a split second, “Is truly like seeing heaven.”

“Jimin, please,” You whine, arching your back up to grind your heat against the tent in his sweats. He grins and rolls his hips up to meet you. 

“You want more, lovely?” He purrs. You nod, frantic, and one of his hands disappears for a minute. Moments later he slides into your wet heat, and the feeling alone could make you cum again. The look on his face is pure bliss, and he doesn’t wait to start shallow thrusts into you. 

It doesn’t take long for you to get impatient with that; you’re overstimulated, of course, but there is nothing quite like the way he fills you, and you don’t think you'll ever get enough of it. 

#fic: drabble #jimin fic #jimin smut #jimin fanfic #queue

[bishiglomper]

My niece got butthurt earlier (completely unrelated) and she wont let me use her computer tonight.

*DEEP SIGH*

I really wanted to work on my fic. But seeing it on a bigger screen is much much more conducive to writing than seeing tiny bits of scrunched text at a time.

Kinda wanted to art, too.. ._.

Thinking about trying to do some stuff by hand.. Dont know if my vision will cooperate but. At least its a change of pace?

Dunno if its gonna be writing or arts. Guess it depends on what materials I find first lol

[darkangeldesignstudio]

Need You Tonight

summary: You landed your dream job with the Avengers team about a year ago. You went on missions and made new friends. But, one team member still confuses you. Thor and his flirtatious ways have left you dazed and confused and when he leaves on a mission to Asgard you are left with your traitorous mind. Could he really ever love a human, or was it all just wishful thinking?

pairing: Thor x female reader

warnings: language, tiny bit of angst, and my first attempts at writing smut lol

word count: 4.2k

A/N: Hey everyone! This is my entry for @tilltheendwilliwrite‘s “T Shows Her Age: Songfic Challenge.” My song was Need you Tonight by INXS, a favorite of mine because of the iconic bar dancing bid war from the movie Coyote Ugly *wink wink*.  First of all, I want to give a big thanks to my Beta @sexykitty96 for all of the encouragement and support (and typo hunting lol) she had given me over the past months. I really appreciate it love! I have to say, it was fun writing this fic, but also difficult seeing as I've never written smut before. I'm actually a bit nervous about how it turned out so if you wouldn't mind leaving me some advice in the comments that would be amazing. Much love and happy reading!

You never imagined, in all of your wildest dreams, that you would be one of the Avengers. Getting to work with Earth's mightiest heroes was the best job you could ask for.

You were fairly new to the team, only working with them for about a year, but you had become fast friends with Natasha and Wanda. They accepted you into their group easily, along with Steve and Bucky who treated you like a little sister. Tony and Bruce readily accepted your help on their projects while Sam and Clint constantly took time out of their days to help train you. It was amazing, but something was missing.

Unfortunately, there was one team member that you hardly ever saw. Thor, currently taking care of a problem on Asgard, was your guilty pleasure. When you first met, there was an immediate connection. Flirting ensued, for weeks on end, and you really felt that it was leading to something more, until he was called back home by Heimdall a few months ago.

He promised that he would keep in touch as much as possible, but the few trips back and forth to the compound only lasted a few minutes at a time and they were never really conducive to the type of interaction you both wanted. It was infuriating. Especially after the few occasions where self doubt came into play. Did he really like you? He hadn't even kissed you yet. Was he just using this trip as a way to avoid you? Why would a God ever like someone like you anyway?

You tried your hardest to squash those feelings. Thor wouldn't have spent months getting close to you just so he could lead you on. He was better than that. But, after months of silence, it became hard to push your insecurity down.

The night that Thor finally returned to the compound, it was movie night for the team and it was your turn to pick. Deciding it was a good night for an old favorite, you asked FRIDAY to put on “Coyote Ugly” and settled onto the couch next to Tony, sharing a bowl of popcorn between you.

Natasha was also excited, she hadn't seen the movie in years, and she smiled at you from a few seats away. “Nice choice, [Y/N].”

You smiled back at her just as you noticed Thor walk into the room. Your eyes connected and you shot a timid smile his direction. “It's one of my favorites.” Your voice was unsure and quiet, which Natasha picked up on immediately and turned around to watch Thor descend the stairs.

Looking between the two of you, Nat smiled and offers Thor a seat on the large couch next to her. This left you with no options, if you wanted to talk to Nat, you had to look at Thor. Damn her and her shifty ways.

Thor said quiet greetings to everyone with a bright smile reserved only for you, but your heart was hurting. The months of self doubt and hatred for how you would never measure up to this wonderful man had caught up to you. Now that he was here, it was a crushing blow. You turned away from Thor, trying and failing to put a genuine smile on your face. They all noticed, but nobody said anything, preferring to watch the movie in silence.

Soon, the movie had everyone smiling and laughing. Vision and Wanda could be heard speaking in whispers. Vis pelted Wanda with questions about this scene or that scene and she happily answered him as they cuddled together on one of the smaller love seats. It was cute, but it still hurt to see them so happy when you were so miserable. Thor was only a few steps away, but he felt as far away as Asgard at the moment.

When the music tuned up onscreen, you smiled so brightly, it was your favorite scene. Need you tonight played in the background of the bar as Kevin O'Donnell jumped up on the bar and began dancing to the sounds of women shouting bids in his direction. It was hot and hilarious and so darn cute. You couldn't help but laugh at the absurd things the bar patrons were shouting as the man began to strip.

Just as the bidding began to rise in intensity, Pepper walked into the room and you happily gave up your seat. It was only right that she got to sit with Tony after being gone for the past week.

You quickly found a seat beside Nat, ignoring the fact that Thor was now only inches away. His massive body was so close, but your heart still felt far away.

Nat got your attention with a small nudge. “How about that dancing? I would kill for someone to seduce me like that.”

You laughed as she wagged her eyebrows your direction. “Me too, Nat. Me too.” With a sigh, you settled back into the couch and enjoyed the rest of the movie together with your friends. You never noticing the calculating look that crossed Thor's face or the sly wink that Natasha through his way.

It was a few days later that Tony threw a party for the team to celebrate another successful mission. You and Thor had patched things up and were steadily growing closer again. Sadly, there was no sure evidence that he was willing to go any further that harmless flirting and warm hugs.

It was infuriating, but you could deal with it. He was your friend first and that would always be most important to you.

About half way through the night, you noticed Thor watching you. Your instincts were on high alert with his eyes on you. You could practically feel his gaze as you danced with Nat and Wanda.

Every man in the room was getting an eye full as you and the girls got down and dirty on the dance floor. The intensity of Thor's gaze grew exponentially when Nat and Wanda sandwiched you between them. Grinding your hips together as you dropped down to the floor with the beat of the music. Natasha and Wanda's hands roamed freely and you barely heard when Nat whispered in your ear.

“Thor's getting antsy over there. That look could set a room on fire.” Her words sent a thrill down your spine.

The music ended and you slowly looked up. When your eyes connected with his, you felt your blood boil with immense heat. His eyes glowed blue in the low light, small sparks danced on his shoulders. On the face of an enemy, that look would have struck fear to the depths of your soul. From Thor, it made your heart race for an entirely different reason.

You walked slowly towards him, measuring each step carefully and hoping that he could read your intentions. When you were about five feet away he had gained a semblance of control and motioned for you to follow him.

Free of the thumping beat of the music, you walked in silence towards the sleeping quarters of the tower. When he stopped, you were a few feet from his room. “We need to talk, [Y/N], but first, I must show you something.”

You looked at him suspiciously. His voice had gone softer and held a wealth of timidness that you had never heard before from the King of Asgard. It was almost as if he was unsure and you hated it.

“Thor.” The firm tone was unexpected and he looked back at you with a quirked eyebrow, causing you to smirk at his surprise. “Whatever it is, I'm sure I will be fine. I trust you.”

His eyes lit up with his smile and you giggled happily. That smile could have brought you to your knees, it was a rare thing to see and the beauty of his happiness was never lost on you. He took your hand and led you the last few feet to his bedroom door.

“Close your eyes, [Y/N].” His authoritative voice was back, causing you to giggle again, but the tone  brokered no argument so you complied with a small smile and clenched your eyes shut willingly.

Thor smiled down at you, wishing he could just kiss you in that moment and forget about the rest of the plan, but this was what you wanted. He, Natasha, and Sam had worked too hard for him to back down now.

The sound of his door opening made it extremely hard not to peak. You had never been here before and it would be a lie if you said you weren't excited. Thor, quickly had you settled onto what felt like a plush couch and released your hand. “No peeking.”

You laughed. “Just get on with it, Thor. The suspense is killing me.”

He smirked as he finally reached the sound system across the room and turned it on. “As my lady commands.”

A familiar beat began in the background, causing your eyes to fly open. You never, in a million years, expected to see the sight in front of you, but you smiled nonetheless as Thor slowly walked towards you from across the room.

His steps were measured to the timing of the beat and when he stood at your feet he pulled you up and into his body. He rolled his body into yours agonizingly slow and then, he began to sing along with the lyrics.

Come over here

All you got is this moment The twenty-first century's yesterday You can care all you want Everybody does yeah that's okay

His body was like an aphrodisiac. His voice like a dose of ecstasy as you dances together. He caressed your body with fingers that felt like they were barely there. You were surrounded by his body, your back hot against his chest and you moved.

So slide over here And give me a moment Your moves are so raw I've got to let you know I've got to let you know You're one of my kind

I need you tonight 'Cause I'm not sleeping There's something about you girl That makes me sweat

His breath in your ear made you moan as his hands traveled the length of your body, gripping your hips. Then the words of the song finally registered and you realized it, he was telling you how he felt. He wanted you and only you and, damn it felt good to be wanted.

How do you feel I'm lonely What do you think Can't take it all What ya gonna do Gonna live my life

As he sang along to the song, he kissed your neck. Just as his hand traveled towards the valley between your legs, you smiled. It was about time he knew how much you wanted him as well. You turned swiftly into him, pressing chest to chest. Throwing your arm around his neck, you began to sing along with him.

So slide over here And give me a moment Your moves are so raw I've got to let you know I've got to let you know You're one of my kind

I need you tonight 'Cause I'm not sleeping There's something about you girl That makes me sweat

So how do you feel I'm lonely What do you think Can't think at all Whatcha gonna do Gonna live my life

Thor's smile was predatory and full of challenge. You knew he could smell the wetness on your thighs and you were not the least bit ashamed. You wanted him. Needed him.

So how do you feel I'm lonely What do you think Can't think at all Whatcha gonna do Gonna live my life

So slide over here And give me a moment Your moves are so raw I've got to let you know I've got to let you know

The words of the song died on both of your lips when you slid your hand into his hair. His eyes began to glow as you leaned into him. His lips were brushing against yours, waiting for you to make the first move. So, you did and sparks flew. Literally.

So slide over here And give me a moment I've got to let you know I've got to let you know

You're one of my kind

You were so lost in one another that neither of you noticed when the music stopped. He sucked and nibbled at your lips. You moaned and he delved deeper. His tongue danced with yours and you could feel the tingling sensation of his lightning coursing over your body. It hummed over your skin, creating little sparks like fingers dancing over your skin.

You gasped for air when a particularly large spark danced through your womb. Thor chuckled. “How do you feel, Lady [Y/N]?”

The irony of his words and the song lyrics from before were not lost on you, but this was no time for jokes. “I need you, Thor.” Your breath caught when he looked into your eyes. An ocean of love, leagues deep, was behind those eyes. But there was also worry.

He was the King and he knew that if you accepted him as yours, there would be no turning back. You would be his Queen and would not be of this world ever again. Did you really want that? Could you leave your life here for months or even years to rule at his side?

The choice was an easy one to make. “Yes.”

In an instant, you feel the wall at your back. Your pretty black dress pushed up around your hips and your legs around his. His lips tingle against yours as he devours you. He's a force that you are unwilling to evade. So, you meet him head on.

“Please, Thor. Take me into your bed. Make me yours.” It took only seconds once the words left your lips and the next thing you knew was the softness of the bed beneath you.

Thor smiled down at you, lightening coursing in faint ripples down the muscles of his arms. Your eyes heated as he began to strip for you. His red button up came away first. Buttons flew when he ran out of patience, ripping it away and tossing it to the floor. Then his hands went to the waistband of his jeans and your breath caught.

Rallying your courage, you shifted up onto your knees and pulled his hands away and around to the back of your dress. You wanted to do this. Touch him. Admire him, just as you wanted him to admire you.

Understanding sparkled in his blue eyes as his hands softly skimmed your spine, traveling towards the zipper at the nape of your neck. Slowly, he began to pull it down as you did the same to him.

His calloused hands were rough on your sensitive skin, making you gasp. He slowly ran both hands to the shoulders of your dress and pulled the straps away, revealing your lacy black bra and matching panties. His pants followed your dress, falling in a heap upon the floor.

He was glorious. All rippling muscle and bronze skin. You envied him, you couldn't help but wish you were worthy, until you heard a deep growl rise from his throat.

At that moment, he was fully convinced that you were a gift from the Norns themselves. There was no possible way that a being as perfect as you was not and he felt unworthy in your presence. Why would you have feelings for him? God or not, he wasn't so special to deserve you, but he would die trying to prove his worth if that's what it took to keep you.

“Lady [Y/N], are you s...”

You cut him off before the asinine question in his eyes could finish leaving his lips. “I swear to the Nine Realms, Thor. If you do not kiss me right now I will make you regret it.”

His deep chuckle was all that you heard before he was on you again. He kissed you slowly, tenderly, as you laid back onto the bed. His hips cradled between your own as you both moved towards the center.

His chiseled abs and hard pecs brushed against the softness of your curves and the barrier of your bra. You whimpered as small sparks danced over your womb and his fingers, wrapped in lightning, traveled up the back of your calf.

Your senses were beginning to overload at the sensation. It was like heaven and hell all wrapped into one. An exquisite type of torture that you couldn't get enough of and he hadn't even touched you yet.

When he did, you were sure you would die from the pleasure.

His mouth began to travel south as his hands traveled north. Lips kissed and teeth scraped as they followed the length of your throat, towards your collarbone. There was no doubt that you would have marks in the morning, but you couldn't care less.

His hips ground down into yours and you could feel the heat of his hard cock through your panties. You ached to touch him there, but the thought of trying left your mind when his mouth wrapped around your nipple. Hot breath caressed your clothed peak and small sparks shot up your spine as his hand unhooked the strap at your back.

Pulling the lacy contraption out of the way, Thor sucked your bare nipple back into his mouth, suckling and nibbling until it was a hard peak before moving to do the same with the other.

Your moans were hot and seductive in his ear, pushing him closer and closer to the edge of his control as your fingers in his hair tightened with the loss of yours. You were close and all it would take was one more little nudge to bring you there.

His hips rocked into yours again and again. The friction at your center was torturous, it kept you on the precipice, teetering precariously as his mouth and lightning stimulated your breasts.

The brush of his hands at your hips, his weight lifting slightly to allow him the room to pull your panties down slowly, was enough to spur you into action. You released your grip in his hair and ran your palms down his spine, gripping the waistband of his boxers and pushing them down to join your own at the foot of the bed.

The heavy weight of his cock settled on your thigh, making you moan. You gripped him softly, running your hand up and down his shaft. His breath caught at the contact and he thrust lightly into your palm.

You giggled a bit at the irony of the situation. The God of Thunder, the “Mightiest Avenger”, brought down by such a tiny human woman. It was unbelievable, but here you were.

Thor slowly pulled away from your soft touch, wishing for you to enjoy this first time without him losing control too quickly. There would be time for that later. His mouth roamed over the valley of your breasts and down towards your center, leaving tender kisses and reddened marks along the way.

You returned your hands to his back, dragging your nails up his spine and back into his hair. The faint red lines gave you a happy thrill. They marked him as yours just as he was marking you as his, though the marks you left would be gone by morning, it still made you giddy to know they had been there.

When his mouth finally reached your center, all thoughts were gone. The first hot breath on your center, the first small spark from his tongue sent you reeling over the edge and into pure ecstasy. You panted his name, moaning skyward as you came apart.

He watched you tremble from your orgasm, wishing to watch you come undone before his control snapped completely. He wanted to taste you. Your scent teased his nose. You were like ambrosia, like the finest mead in all of Asgard and he wanted to drink his fill. But, he held himself back, watching and waiting like a predator for its prey.

You slowly came down from your high and looked down the length of your body. Thor's blue eyes were predatory, daring you to look away from what he was about to do, but you couldn't. You watched as his mouth descended on your mound. His tongue found a home in your slick folds as his eyes stared into your soul, sparking blue in the dim light of the bedroom. You panted at the sensation, moaning quietly as he languidly tasted you, but never looking away.

Then his fingers entered you and you couldn't hold back anymore. You fell back onto the bed, moaning and crying as he stretched you. His lips wrapped around your clit and you bucked into his mouth.

Thor held you down. Holding you at the mercy of his wicked tongue and adept fingers. When you relaxed, he slid a third finger inside. He was by no means, small and the last thing he wanted was to hurt you. Letting his powers flow a bit, he used his free hand to send sparks across your nipples until your inner walls began to quiver around his fingers.

Slowly, he withdrew his hand. You whimpered at the loss of his touch, causing him to smile as he crawled up your body and pressed his hips back down to yours.

He kissed you slowly as he lined himself up. Pulling away to meet your gaze when he bumped at your entrance. “I'm going to make you mine now, [Y/N]. I will go slow as not to hurt you.”

You tried to urge him on. Tried to tell him to take you. That you didn't want slow, but the words were lost when he pushed into you.

Every ridge, every vein, you could feel them all. Your moans grew as he thrust long and slow into your tight sheath. Only a moment passed before you fell hard. This orgasm stronger than the previous and pulled a deep growl from Thor's throat.

The heat that surrounded him, milked him, was almost too much to handle. He held tight to the last vestiges of his control, breathing through it as best he could so he wouldn't explode like some untried youth. He hadn't felt like this in ages, it was as if the hundreds of years learning to control his powers had flown out the window. Thunder boomed in the distance and sparks floated in the air around him, a testament to his loss of control.

“[Y/N], I can't hold back anymore. I need you, now.” His face was soft, but his eyes were so bright they were almost white and his words were strained.

“Please, Thor, I need you, too. I love you, so much.” You were at the end of your rope, your control was gone. You needed him to take you and to come down with you. You pleaded with him, with your eyes, with your body, with your soul. You loved him and you needed him just as much as he needed you.

“As I love you, my lady.” His control snapped with your words and he moved into a punishing pace.

His hips snapped up into yours, lightning coursed over your skin as your legs tightened around his waist. His lips crashed into yours with reckless abandon. You were at the mercy of a God and it felt like heaven.

You screamed in ecstasy when he shifted his body higher onto yours, pushing himself impossibly deeper. He was a beast, rutting into you hard and fast, and you loved him all the more for it. His hands gripped your ass, surely hard enough to bruise and it felt wonderful.

Pleasure mixed with a bit of pain as he fucked your body, but nothing compared to when you felt his powers brush their way into your entrance. You felt white hot in that moment as your vision began to darken, your core pulsed in time with your heart as he thrust into you. The pleasure reaching heights you had never experienced before.

He bit into the pulse point at your throat and you screamed. Little jolts of lightning danced across your flesh, around your nipples, and through your womb pushing you over the edge. With a final snap of his hips, Thor followed you down. His roar of pleasure, drowned out by a loud clash of thunder and flash of lightning outside your windows. His hot cum coated your insides causing aftershocks in your core.

He turned, at the last moment, to collapse beside you on the bed and pull you into his chest. Your hearts beat loudly as you laid together, the sounds of thunder fading away into the distance outside. It took a few moments to be able to breath again.

Smiling happily, Thor turned back to you, rising slightly onto an elbow so he could read your face. The smile he received made him chuckle. “So, was that worth two hundred and fifty of your Midgardian money?”

The question caught you off guard and you had to try hard not to laugh in his face. Of course he would go right back to thinking about the movie. It was what got you here, after all.

Smiling brightly up at him, you place your hand onto his cheek. “It was worth so much more.”

The love in his eyes was unmistakable. Slowly, he lowered his head and took your lips in a long, slow kiss.

#t6ksongfic #t shows her age #thor #thor odinson #mcu #marvel mcu #thor x reader #thor fanfiction #Reader fics