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wayward-dreamer · 10 months

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Hi! I was wondering if you could write an angst fic taking place in the late 60s where Ben (Soldier Boy) is in an arranged marriage with the reader, but the reader does love him? Also, they’re much younger than he is (obviously an adult though, just a young one). This is oddly specific ig but I have an OC based around this concept 😭❤️

Two Ways To Love Him

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female!Reader

Word count: 1,709

Summary: There were certain things about the supe she didn't want to accept, they were surprisingly two things love about him.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, implied smut (not with reader), implied drug use

A/N: I wrote this a while ago and just forgot to post it, but hopefully it's what you were hoping for! Also I was intending for this to be a drabble, but here we are at 1700 words lol This is unbetad, so I'm sorry for any errors I've missed.

It was easy to love his exterior personality, the parts of himself that he showed to the public. The parts of himself that Vought manufactured. The charm, the wit, the subtle cockiness, the smirk, the heroic sacrifices he had made over the decades in each war that occurred, the roughness of his voice laced with the rasp of cigarettes and bourbon. It was easy to love him from afar for many years, knowing that was all it would be. Just a silly admiration for an American hero, the world’s greatest supe. What she felt was real but fleeting, something she knew she’d get over whenever she decided that it was immature and she needed a reality check.

A reality check that came in the form of Vought calling her into the executive offices. It was in the form of them needing her for something that she wasn’t ready for, especially with someone she didn’t know. She knew his public life, yes, but she had no idea what he was like in the privacy of his penthouse apartment at the top floor of the building.

“There’s no way I’m fucking doing this,” he argued, taking out his third cigarette in the span of fifteen minutes they had both been in the CEO’s office.

“You don’t have a choice, Ben,” Alan from talent relations countered. “In light of all the papers reporting your… alleged ties with the mafia, we need to present you as the wholesome, all American hero that you’ve always been.”

“By marrying me off to some bird I don’t even fucking know?!” Soldier Boy pointed towards her, his eyes never even meeting hers. “Not to mention she looks like one of the Brady fucking Bunch kids.”

“I’m 25,” she finally added, her voice meek as her legs shook under her boring brown skirt.

“Yeah, that’s a lot better,” he scoffed, placing the cigarette between his lips and lighting it. He took a long drag as he dropped down in the leather chair across from the table, leaning his head back as he closed his eyes. “Fuckkkk.”

“There’s an image we need to protect here,” the CEO, Paul Roberts explained, leaning forward on the table as he clasped his hands together. “Vought can’t have its number one supe acting out and causing more trouble than he was initially trying to prevent. This arrangement is going to show a level of maturity to your supporters. Think of the popularity points and keep your attitude in check.”

Soldier Boy glared at him, shifting forward and putting the cigarette out in the ashtray. “Fuck you, Paul.”

He stood up from the chair, adjusted the tactical vest over his suit and turned towards the exit, sending those same daggers towards her before he slammed the door shut. She gulped as she turned to the two men in the room, nervously twisting her fingers.

“You’ll be compensated fairly,” Alan informed her, handing her a pen as he pushed the contract across to her.

“What about-” she started as she gestured to the door that Soldier Boy just walked through.

“You let us handle him,” Mr. Roberts added, his tone having a sickening finality to it.

They didn’t leave much room for choice, and she knew better than to argue with a fast-growing corporation like them. With a flurry of the pen, she signed her life away to Vought and to being Soldier Boy’s wife.

There was barely a ceremony, and no exchanging of rings. They gave their forced “I do’s” to a minister hired by the company in one of the offices, standing side by side and never once looking at each other. Vought had people remove her belongings from her parent’s house, her childhood home and move it into the spare room in Soldier Boy’s apartment. A knock on the door alerted her to the envelope left outside, her wedding ring inside that she slipped onto her finger herself. This was never something she thought would happen so abruptly. She always imagined herself falling for a wonderful man, both of them declaring their love for each other before they promised to spend the rest of their lives together.

Being married to Soldier Boy wasn’t what she had pictured for herself.

Being the wife of Vought’s most valuable asset was nothing like having a crush on him. She spent most of her days alone, either crying her eyes out, muffled by the down pillows on the large bed she slept in by herself, or staring out the large, floor to ceiling windows and wondering what the tiny people down on the ground were doing with their lives. She was only ever in close proximity to him when the media outlets wanted to speak with them, now that Vought had officially announced the nuptials of the great Soldier Boy and his childhood sweetheart, as the story cooked up by PR suggested. They fake smiled and “aww, honey”’d their way through every interview, their looks barely lingering on each other for more than a few seconds. They went their separate ways after each one, resuming the routine they had found themselves in.

She kept quiet as she watched him go off to meeting after meeting, commercial after commercial, and party after party, every single day and night. She never said a word as he came in, late at night and blinding drunk, a loud guffaw waking her up as she heard the hysterical giggles of the women he was sneaking into his room. She kept her mouth shut as she watched him consume every pill, snort every kind of powder and drink everything in sight. She ignored him as he did what he was used to doing, showing no interest in that life. She never wanted it and she was even more certain of it now that she had witnessed him in all his glory.

She had seen behind the curtain, she knew what he was really like now, and it wasn’t easy to love him without the guise of his public persona.

In fact, it was incredibly difficult to love him for who he actually was.

Until one day… it wasn’t.

It started with a simple gesture. She had come back from spending her day shopping with the money that Vought was giving her in checks, completely caught off guard by him being there, pouring himself a drink. Their eyes met for what could possibly be the first time in weeks, but exchanged no words. He slid the tumbler across to her, pouring another for himself before he walked away and closed the door to his room. That was the most time they had spent in each other’s vicinity within the apartment, but she appreciated that he actually acknowledged her presence, even if it was for just a mere moment.

She quickly noticed the other little things he started doing, things that he probably hoped she wouldn’t realize was him, but she did.

He would leave for the day just before she would wake, and always had a bagel and coffee waiting for her when she reached the dining table. He usually arrived back at the apartment in the wee hours of the morning, and on more than one occasion she had fallen asleep on the couch. She remained still, making no sudden movements as he covered her with the blanket that was draped over the back of the sofa. After the first time, she had to make sure it wasn’t just a part of her dreams, and sure enough it happened again another two times. She tried not to read too much into the night he picked her up and carried her into her bedroom, or the next night when it happened once more but his large hand delicately tucked a lock of hair behind her ear as she continued to feign sleep, before he promptly left the room.

All of it was a side to him that she never expected once she saw who he really was, and she knew not to take it for granted despite the twinge of longing in her heart that it would be an everyday occurrence that could be acknowledged between them. A stepping stone into a better relationship with him.

But he didn’t want that, and he proved it as he continued his usual activities as if those nice things were just fleeting, so few and far between that it began to feel like a part of the PR stunt. Even if it was behind closed doors.

And yet, she hung onto those moments. They may have been rare, but they were a part of him that she had begun to yearn for, another part of him that she had begun to love. A part of him that she wished he would just fully embrace rather than hide it away as if he was ashamed and disappointed in myself for doing it.

She knew she couldn’t change him. He was too embedded in Vought’s infrastructure to ever be a different person, and his only outlet to escape their grasp was to do all of the things she was forced to pretend didn’t happen.

So she resigned herself to the fact that there were only two ways to love him. Only two aspects of him to love.

One was his public life, the persona he put on for the people that adored him. That sexy smirk, the ability to melt hearts with just a wink and his heroic efforts in the wars - WWII, Korea and Vietnam - that all followed his initiation into Vought. The public didn’t need to know that was all for the photo opportunities.

The other was all of the little things he did for her, things that he didn’t know she had noticed. They were little gestures, not nearly enough under normal circumstances for someone to fall in love with, but she needed those in order to survive this situation she had found herself in. The money promised to her would never be enough to make it through that.

Those were the only two ways to love him, she told herself. Reminded herself every day of the fact.

And everything else, everything she had chosen to ignore… well, those were all things she would learn to live with.

Join my taglist(s)! If you’re crossed out I couldn’t tag you :(

Forevers: @hintsofhoney // @makeadealwithdean // @writercole // @flamencodiva // @440mxs-wife // @sexyvixen7 // @foxyjwls007 // @maliburenee // @waynes-multiverse // @weepingwillowphoenix // @kyjey // @leigh70 // @savagemickey03 // @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone // @agentorange9595 // @buckybarnes-1917 // @lunarmoon8 // @stoneyggirl2 // @hobby27 // @sweetcyanidemilkshake // @envyaurora95 // @jassackles // @ircngirl //

The Boys: @lacilou // @kazsrm67 // @smellingofpoetry // @krazykelly // @nancymcl // @quincessimus //

Soldier Boy: @emoryhemsworth // @spnwoman // @akshi8278 // @katelyn--renee // @candy-coated-misery0731 // @deans-spinster-witch // @deans-baby-momma // @mariaenchanted // @globetrotter28 // @pink-sparkly-witch // @lyarr24 // @stephv213 // @perpetualabsurdity // @lessons-of-red // @redbarn1995 // @xlynnbbyx // @recoveringpastaaddict // @maggiegirl17 // @rebeccathefangirl // @ladysparkles78 // @sl33pylilbunny // @smolone88 // @chernayawidow // @deansbbyx // @ultimatecin73 // @solariklees // @curlycarley // @losa12308 //

#Soldier Boy x Female!Reader #Soldier Boy x Female!Reader One Shot #Soldier Boy Angst #Soldier Boy One Shot #Soldier Boy Fanfiction #Soldier Boy #The Boys Fanfiction #the boys tv

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megu-meow · 1 year

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𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎//𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒//𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Hi, dear person!

This blog was created so that I can keep myself entertained after I come home from work. I don't plan on disposing a bunch of information about myself here, but I'll tell you this much:

✨I am 23

✨my pronouns are she/her, but it doesn’t really matter, in my mother tongue there are no pronouns

✨I am not a native English speaker, so you might run into spelling mistakes and gramatical errors, but hey, we’re all here to have fun

✨I’m not really comfortable with sexual themes, please do not expect me to write smut or anything similar

✨My favorite anime is JJK, you can expect a lot of Megumi/Gojo works from me

✨I also like music a lot, so if you have any song suggestions send them my way

✨I have ADD, if you cannot understand what I’m trying to express in my writing, I’m really sorry, my brain be doing that

𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒

✨Be nice!! To me, to others, and to everyone! Criticism is appreciated only if it is uplifting and does not make anyone else uncomfortable.

✨Please do not ask me to write anything sexual, I'm not comfortable with that!

✨Please do not steal my work, if you'd like to translate or quote anything, let me know.

✨Please take the fact that I am not a native English speaker into consideration. I might make some mistakes and I would appreciate it if you'd let me know if my spelling or grammar is faulty, just be nice about it!

✨Please let me know if you find something I have written disturbing or offensive, I am trying to do my best so that I won't hurt anybody, but I'm human and mistakes happen. I will change/remove all content that might cause harm.

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

homecoming - megumi x fem. reader

I can't lose you either - megumi x fem.reader

sleepy confessions - megumi x fem. reader

cartier - gojo x fem. reader

fan behaviour - megumi x fem. reader (requested)

silly sundays - gojo x fem. reader

crazy crushes - gojo x fem. reader

siblings or dating? - megumi x fem.reader

crushing hugs - gojo x fem. reader

jealousy, jealousy - megumi x fem. reader

all the small things - gojo x fem. reader

boyfriend texts - megumi x fem. reader

boyfriend texts - gojo x fem. reader

serious - gojo x fem. reader

comfort - megumi x fem. reader

Whose fault is that?! - gojo x fem. reader

Soulmates - gojo x fem. reader

3 words, 8 letters - megumi x fem. reader

lovebug - gojo x fem. reader

baby megumi with gojo's significant other [(drabble) g.n reader]

gojo's wedding with fem. reader (drabble)

kiss it better - gojo x fem. reader

bbycakes - gojo x small. fem. reader

love scars - gojo x fem. reader

romeo - gojo x fem. reader

Triangle - girldad!gojo x fem. reader

missin' you crazy - gojo x fem. reader

how I met your mother - dad!gojo x fem. reader

catnaps - gojo x fem.reader

Boyfriend Texts 2.0 - megumi x fem.reader

Bulls**t - gojo x non-specified reader

Boyfriend Texts 2.0 - gojo x fem.reader

when gojo falls in love - gojo x fem.reader

Series:

Hockey Player Sukuna - Part 1 - Part 2 (Coming Soon)

to the rescue - Megumi - Prologue - Part 1 (Coming Soon)

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grabyoursaintsandpray · 17 days

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Want to read an Elsa/Jack drabble?

Considering this is only relevant to a handful of my followers, I've thrown it and some backstory behind the cut.

Well first to explain, I've been ridiculously ill all week, some kind of flu/chest infection I'm not sure, all I know is it's wiped me out and I've been getting home from work and going straight to bed every day. I hadn't written anything in days and I think I made like one gifset this week because looking at the screen so intently hurt my eyes. So this was a pleasant surprise possible fever dream

It's like 900 words, not quite crack but possibly crack adjacent, completely unedited because I wrote it on my notes app which has no spell check or anything and why was me being ill relevant to the story? Well because my brain is mostly mush at this point, my temperature has been 39c (Standard is 36-37) so I'm just warning you that this isn't necessarily good and also probably expect errors.

But I thought I'd share (though it's not ao3 worthy) because I haven't written anything for WBN since January, honestly I was a little worried that maybe I'd lost the ability but no turns out I just need to run such a high temp that it melts the writers block right out of my brain.

Hopefully this is the kickstarter to being able to crank out an actual story at some point but for now I'm going to go back to huddling up on the sofa in my Gengar Oodie.

----🐺----

Elsa was not one for sitting idly, much preferring to have some kind of mission, some kind of goal in mind.

Maybe that's due to the life she's led, constantly on the move, never staying in one place too long. It comes with the monster hunting territory she supposes.

It's different now, life is different now. She has a home, somewhere real and permanent that she can return to. She also has more of a purpose, the Bloodstone that is currently conspicuously absent from around her neck seeing to that.

She slides her eyes over to the man beside her, who is practically buzzing with glee because there's one last difference, a big one and his name is Jack.

If there was one thing that had completely turned her life upside down, it was him.

Not that she minds of course, most of the time anyway. In fact normally she's eternally grateful for him quite literally stumbling into her path and changing the direction she had been heading in.

Today though, well today she was not grateful because in all his questionable wisdom, Jack had decided that she was due for some R and R.

Yeah, in theory? Sounded great. Maybe they take a weekend off from monster hunting, rent a little place somewhere the two of them can be alone and reconnect with each other.

Unfortunately, she wasn't being whisked away to a cabin in the middle of nowhere or a quiet island with a private beach.

No, she was checking them both into a spa.

"Do you like it?" Jack had asked as they pulled into the car park and as she turned, seeing those beautiful eyes, wide with excitement and nerves, she found her irritation crumbling.

"It's great" She promised him, mouth tilted in a half smile. He practically slumped in relief and she withheld the sigh wanting to escape her lips.

It was fine, she could get through this. It was hanging around a bunch of people and trying to relax, not torture. She'd laugh about it in a bit.

----

She wasn't laughing. Two hours later and she's slowly losing the will to live.

They'd been in the jacuzzi, great except for the four other people there with them. Steam room, same deal and honestly it felt like sitting in a bloody volcano anyway. Who enjoys that kind of shit?

She begged off going into the swimming pool. Jack, it turns out wasn't too keen on swimming either, which did at least amuse her slightly. She thought all dogs were born with the ability to swim, or was that some kind of strange myth she'd picked up over the years?

With all the various wet things fortunately out of the way and Jack unfortunately out of his swimming trunks and back into his regular clothes. They headed into the relaxation room before their massages.

Her arse was numb from lying on what was truly some kind of instrument of torture masquerading as a bed. For a thing supposed to promote comfort and relaxation, they sure chose a bizarre style in which to do it.

It was solid for starters, no soft fabric to sink into and rest your head on, in fact she painfully banged hers with a loudly echoing thump the second she tried to lay down.

She understood the tile which it was made of was to keep it heated easily but that still didn't stop her from feeling like she was lying on the bathroom floor.

The bizarre hazy purple hue to the room had also left her feeling mildly disoriented and she worried for the sake of her eyesight once she stepped back into the sun.

Not to mention the music being piped in, some hideous repetitive... plinky plonky sounds that barely classified as actual noises, let alone music. There was a wonderful change-up an undetermined amount of time later with seagull sounds being added in, that truly made her contemplate jumping through the nearest window.

She turned her head, neck cracking at the stiff position it had been kept in, to check on Jack. Surely he must be bored by now? If she finds it hard to sit still normally then he is usually like a kid hopped up on sugar.

It really shouldn't surprise her to see that he is completely knocked out. His chest softly rising and falling soothingly.

She lets out a quiet whisper of his name, nothing.

A spiteful part of her wants to yell it, watch him startle so hard he falls onto the probably much softer floor. She stops herself, she's a bitch sure but she has some decorum.

Plus he deserves this much more than she does. They've hunted nonstop for the last few months with the last one being a close call that she truly doesn't like to think about.

She hadn't been paying attention and it nearly cost her life. Worse, it nearly cost his life because of course he spotted the incoming danger and threw himself in front of her, taking the brunt of the damage to a terrifying degree.

She knows that's the reason he's booked this spa for them. It had shaken them both to their core and he just wanted some sense of normality, of just being a couple without all the death and destruction inherent in their line of work.

So she'd give him this, she would let him sleep and soon she would endure being prodded by a stranger and at the end of the day she'd tell him how great it felt and how relaxed she now was and they'd go home, feeling that little bit closer. If she gripped him a little tighter at night, if she woke him up screaming his name in terror then they'd both gracefully ignore it but he'd tuck her closer and whisper sweet nothing's into her ear in Spanish until she drifted back off, the same way he always does.

It was a fair trade and honestly, she'd laugh about this tomorrow, she's sure.

#werewolf by night fanfiction #There's a tag I haven't used in a while #Its like welcoming an old friend #fanfic

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ussjellyfish · 6 months

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20 questions for fic writers

thank you, @mylittleredgirl for tagging me! Have I done this...perhaps. Will do it again! It might also be new? the questions are fun.

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

423

2. What’s your total ao3 word count?

2,817,922 (hitting 3 million should be fun). I average 6661 words (ha) per fic. Which is interesting. I have 43 drabbles and 7 fics over 100,000 words so they must even out.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Once Upon a Time (though not for years). Star Trek the Next Generation, Star Trek Voyager, Star Trek Discovery. Stargate Atlantis and Agents of SHIELD. many other things, but not a lot of fics. (12 or less).

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Stray Feathers and Scales (Emma Swan/Regina Mills, Once Upon a Time) I almost listed this one as Maleficent/Regina, which it isn't..kind of is, could have been poly if I'd thought about). This fic has HUGE stats for me and I haven't reread it in years. Parts of it are really detailed though, and it's VERY me. It's all the tropes.

Lost Leaves of Autumn (Catelyn Stark/Ned Stark, Game of Thrones) This one is very soft and doesn't really belong in the GoT universe, which is so brutal, but I really love Catelyn.

Thawing Deep (Sansa Stark/Margaery Tyrell, Game of Thrones). They could have worked! I haven't read this one in ages either.

Her Majesty's Mercy (Maleficent/Regina Mills, Once Upon a Time) The best Once fic I wrote, in my opinion. I remember the fun of writing this one.

A Funny Thing Happened at a Stark Tower Gala (Melinda May/Phil Coulson, Agents of SHIELD). Maybe this got recced somewhere? Maybe AoS fandom was just big that year? It's cute and fun, and for some reason has a bunch of kudos.

(this is long)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to? If it's a fic that I'm really into I'll reply. I'm kind of giddy about comments on the ones I'm writing right now. If it's an older one that I am sentimental for I try to reply. If I'm not into it at the moment (I am kind of burnt out on Once Upon a Time, and I haven't been into Chakotay lately so I've been kind of meh on my own Janeway/Chakotay stuff). I try to, but I am fickle.

I did just have this really positive experience where I posted my chapter of Quantum Variations (which is my long Disco WIP) and the chapter was kind of a mess, but I was so happy to post it, I really didn't care) and people found things for me to fix and were really kind about it. It felt good, for a chapter with a bunch of errors.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I killed Elizabeth Weir once, but she came back, so the ending was pretty hopeful. I don't write much angst without a happy ending.

I have Janeway rather self-destructively run off with the Borg Queen but... uh...it wasn't that angsty. Dark, but she kind of wanted it.

There's probably something really angsty I'm just not thinking of, but I don't reread my really old stuff often. (some of them I honestly have no idea what the fic is about).

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

there's a really sappy SGA one where they have a bunch of kids.

Firefly (Star Trek Discovery, Philippa and...learning to have feelings). maybe? Considering how messy Philippa's feelings are, she ends up happy, and more human, and she goes on a very long journey about it.

8. Do you get hate on fic?

Not lately. I did, I have, but it's been years. Once Upon a Time fandom you were a wild ride.

I did make massive drama back in the day with Janeway/Crusher, because I really wanted to get to play with them in the fandom space I was in, but that was not the space for that.

9. Do you write smut?

Sometimes! I'm on a somewhat lazy sort of fade to feelings place at the moment. I wrote a somewhat detailed one awhile back, but it was pretty tame. The fic is good though! I really like that one. Trapped in a turbolift and then later they have sex.

Migrations and other recurring phenomena (Star Trek Discovery, Michael Burnham/Laira Rillak). Happy Birthday, madame captain...

10. Do you write crossovers?

Not often, I do have a SGA and TNG crossover where the Enterprise turns up at Atlantis, which is odd but fun, and for some reason (there's a space battle) it got outside my usual audience. I really liked the challenge of all the characters meeting each other.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I recall.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! I think a OUAT one? maybe two? It has happens but...I don't remember which fic it is.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! Jackie and I wrote two really long ones together (which were a blast). I don't think she's still on tumblr but, @shinewithalltheuntold, I love you).

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

I am really into whatever I am really into at the moment, because I get REALLY into things.

Right now it's Michael Burnham/Laira Rillak, underappreciated ship of my dreams. Michael gets to date the president of the Federation, as a treat. fun bonsu for me is that they have scenes together! and a relationship arc and that's really fun. (even if it's not romantic, it's something and I adore them, so I'll take it).

All time ever? Kathryn Janeway/Beverly Crusher, which made drama, ruined some of my fandom relationships, but really gave me something I needed.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but probably won’t?

I have a few that I just ended, which I'm okay with. I've taken longer hiatuses than I'd like, lately. (life's just been a lot).

I have three right now. Only one is posted and I'll finish that one! (Quantum Variations on a Love Theme (Star Trek Discovery, Michael Burnham/Laira Rillak) is my favorite. It's my heart right now. It's long and it's sometimes hard to write and there's backstory and plot threads BUT I love it.

And it has it's own little following and really that's all a really long fic needs: a handful of people who read it.

The other two I need for Year of the OTP so I should get those done too. (Firefly universe crosses over into canon-adjacent universe and Michael rescues sick Laira fic).

Hopefully they all get finished. (I'm fairly certain they will. I am not answering the question well).

16. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue. Soft feelings. Incremental character growth. Long, slow, introspective character journeys. Friendship and found family moments. (there are some Tilly and Philippa moments I really like in Firefly, and Tilly and Laira and Tilly and Michael and...people having loving conversations is fun).

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Description. (I feel like I'm really lazy with this most of the time. They're there, you know what they look like).

Urgency. (my fics do not move quickly, or really with a lot of certainty in their direction).

Plot. (frequently feels like an afterthought so people can have feelings).

Focus? I drop plot threads, all the time.

Writing by myself is hard. I ALWAYS want to show whatever I've just done to a person and sometimes people are busy and I am so unmoored by that. (post it anyway, dammit). I adore having someone tell me it's good before I post it.Sometimes I have to post it anyway...

I also write the thing I want to write, over and over in different fandoms and with different a characters and I've written my own variations on "pregnant person goes on a journey with her feelings and grows as a person" at least 10 times.

and I'll do it again.

And I love midly sick character, which I will do again.

I feel bad and don't feel bad? It's what I want to read so I have to write it so I can read it.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I google translate, or skip around it, or switch POV so I don't have to deal with it. It's hard to do and I can usually avoid it. I use a lot of fantasy name/word generator for alien words.

It's mostly [alien name goes here] and hopefully I put something in.

I borrow words (or spelling conventions) from languages I know little pieces of (Finnish, German, Welsh) when I need to for alien things.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Star Trek the Next Generation. (Stranded, Beverly Crusher/Jean-Luc Picard, Will Riker/Deanna Troi, adorable future children who are lesbians). One of my oldest fics is ON Ao3! it is like 22 years old I think? it's a mess and I should fix the formatting but it's SO LONG... It's fine. It's there. It's really not bad for my first long fic.

It's fun to see how far I've come. I wrote that one so long ago that I wrote it under my real name on a usergroup. Then posted it on my own website that I made with html on geoctities.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Whatever I'm working on right now is usually my favorite. I have fics I am especially fond of.

Her Majesty's Mercy. (Once Upon a Time, Regina Mills/Maleficent) one of the darker things I've written for them, that has a very happy ending it's just...kind of all raw messy feelings)

When I the Starry Courses Know. (Star Trek Voyager: Kathryn Janeway/Borg Queen) very depressed Janeway gives herself up to the Borg Queen, which kind of a Faustian twist to it. It's one of the better things I've ever written).

Fedvision (the Federation does eurovision, with Beverly Crusher/Kathryn Janeway and most of Voyager and TNG at their party). Fedvision is wonderful I should write it again, because it should happen every year. (Disco needs it). This fic is full of bubbly happiness and hats and love. It's full of love.

Firefly (Star Trek Discovery: Mirror Philippa Georgiou and Michael Burnham, and feelings, and learning to trust people). I used to live in a state of angst waiting for someone to comment when I posted...this fic has chapters without any comments at all. I had never written anything this long that didn't depend on a romantic pairing, this one doesn't have one in the center. I took huge break...and came back! I didn't have a beta or an alpha and I lost friends in the time it took to write it, and it still turned out. I grew as a writer and poster with this fic.

Quantum Variations on a Love Theme (Star Trek Discovery: Michael Burnham/Laira Rillak) is my favourite right now, because it's a me fic. It's a long meandering jellyfish fic and Laira's pregnant and I love it. It's the most fun I could have. It has really good parts. (not all of them but, there are some stellar bits). Also it has some detailed world building, and that's fun. This is the me fic that owns my soul at the moment so of course it's my favourite.

I'll just have five...

Tagging @aleksandrachaev @that-one-curly-haired-chick @purlturtle, @winternightjewels @regionalpancake @galactic-pirates @jackabelle73 @holdouttrout (if you fancy it)

and you, if you feel like it, person who made it all the way to the bottom!

The questions!

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

2. What’s your total ao3 word count?

3. What fandoms do you write for?

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

8. Do you get hate on fic?

9. Do you write smut?

10. Do you write crossovers?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but probably won’t?

16. What are your writing strengths?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

19. First fandom you wrote for?

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

#long post #20 questions for fic writers #about me #so much about me

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vneuns · 2 years

Note

For Stranger Things type drabbles; Eddie taking the reader or Steve and the gang to a record shop and introducing ‘em to metal music. Or on the reverse end, introducing Eddie to music that he wouldn’t really listen to.

-Sapnap

♡‧₊˚ “Why do you have so many vinyls?” Your boyfriend questioned as he sat on the floor in front of your light blue spray painted crate filled with a bunch of different songs and artists.

You walked over abandoning what you were doing before and taking a seat next to him on the floor as he flipped through all of them.

“Since Dad works with a bunch of artists I get the Vinyl of their album before it’s released.” Eddie nods as he flips through all of them. Before stopping mid flip and turning towards you.

“Put on your favorite.” A grin takes over your face as he decided to stand up watching as you automatically go to the front and pull out a ocean blueish Vinyl with a women who has a thumb poking her shirt outwards and the other through one of her belt buckles.

Carefully you pull the vinyl out of its case and place it on your record player. Pulling the cartridge over the Vinyl you took a step back and turned towards your boyfriend.

You put your hands out signaling for him to take them and step forwards.

“This is Whitney Houston, her first song was released last year which was a big hit and this one is to be released next year.”

As the intro starts you pull away from Eddie a smidge and begin to move your hips to the beat. At first all he can do is laugh before he catches the hint and starts to copy you.

It’s at this point you realize your very white boyfriend has two left feet, so you slow down and have him copy you as you take a step forward back and another but with a little more hip this time.

After a few trial and errors he finally gets it and you let go of his hands as you dance your heart out to your favorite song.

A moment or two pasts before he takes a seat on the edge of your bed and just watching as you continue to dance until the song comes to an end.

Turning towards him you stand between his legs as his hands go to your waist.

“Baby?” Your hands went to his scalp massaging just a bit how you know he likes it.

“Hmm?”

“What do you know about Micheal Jackson?”

#love me some whitney houston 😫#sappy nap nonnie i hope you very much enjoyed 💞💞#༺☆༻ cher drabbiling in drabbles #stranger thing season 4 #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfic #stranger things ff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x black!reader #eddie munson ff #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie x reader #eddie x black!reader #stranger things x black!reader #steve harrington x black!reader #steve harrington ff #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x reader

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angelicizedeve · 2 years

Text

𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞.

featuring: itto x gn!reader

synopsis: you start working at a new flower shop and love it more than you should

✎ eve’s notes: so...i've never really done a fanfic that's in this style, as in, it's like a story. i usually do bullet points and drabbles but not this time! so hopefully it's decent lmao. btw i probably have some grammatical errors-

you peered at yourself in the slightly dirty glass of the flower shop one last time, making sure that you looked good. the flower shop was quite popular, and was owned by a friendly young man. he was really kind during the interview when you applied, so you weren't too nervous. you smoothed your skirt down, and with a deep breath, you pushed open the door to the shop.

you’d been there many times, but still, it never failed to amaze you in how magical it looked. stained-glass windows lined the walls, casting rainbows on the many plants on shelves everywhere. butterfly cutouts hung from the ceiling, along with flowering vines. it was like a fairy oasis. “hey, you must be [name]!” you heard a cheerful and loud voice exclaim. your eyes were met with a tall, muscular man with long, fluffy grey-white hair tied back. he wore a colourful apron with a bunch of pins and a name tag that read, “itto!” with a smiley face. you smiled.

“yup! that’s me.”

“great! so, come with me and i’ll get you set up.”

you followed your superior, and he handed you an identical apron and explained what you had to do. your main job was cashier, but you’d also have to water some of the plants and put some sprouts into planters. easy enough!

throughout the day, itto and you worked amazingly well together. you two had fun conversations as you did your work, and itto introduced you to each customer. he knew all of them on a first name basis and what their favourite flowers were. you were amazed at how it seemed as if he was close friends with every single one of them. it was something you’d try to work on throughout your time working at the shop.

itto glanced up from a pile of paperwork he was filling out, seeing you walking out of the store. you’d completed your first shift there, and probably had had the most fun possible on a job.

“oh, [name]! wait up!”

itto walked around the counter and handed you a white rose. “here,” he said with a big smile.

“aw, thanks!” you said, admiring the flower.

“haha, no problem. and, uh, thanks for...actually showing up today.” itto rubbed the back of his neck. “you have no idea how many people i hire that don’t even bother to come to their shifts. it’s hard, managing a whole store on your own, ya know?”

you gave a soft, sympathetic smile. “yeah, must be hard. but i’m always here if you need me to help you with stuff.” and with that, you headed home.

after your amazing first shift, you eagerly accepted every other one that itto asked you to work. unlike it is for most people, work was the highlight of your day. you were surrounded by sweet customers, fragrant flowers, and the best co-worker. speaking of your coworker, itto never failed to give you a flower at the end of your shift. sometimes if you had an extra busy week, he’d throw in some snacks. you thought it was the sweetest thing ever, and always made sure to thank him <3.

eventually, your birthday rolled around. you expected a simple “happy birthday”, but itto surprised you by inviting you to dinner with him! how sweet, right? it was just such a kind gesture.

a very..kind..gesture.

it-

no it couldn’t be..

was itto asking you out on a date?

the thought put butterflies in your stomach and made your face grow warm. you knew that you probably were just going crazy, but still. you put on a fancy outfit, did your hair nice, and then hurried over to the restaurant. you were completely surprised to find itto standing outside, well dressed and a beautiful flower bouquet in hand.

“oh! [name]! i was thinking you wouldn’t show up!” he said with a nervous laugh. “these are for you.” itto handed you a gorgeous bunch of white roses, just like the one he gave you on your first day.

“oh! thank you so much!”

itto smiled, and opened the door to the restaurant for you. “shall we?”

the dinner went better than you imagined! you had a blast talking and laughing with your coworker. when you arrived home, which was quite late at night, you took the flowers out of the wrapping to put into a vase of water.

hm, that’s strange. there’s a note…

“so i did some research, and apparently roses represent love, so i got a bouquet of them since that’s what i feel about you.

-itto <;3”

you blinked at the words messily written on the small piece of paper, reading them over and over again. it was a dream come true.

#writing.by.eve.ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ ੈ♡‧₊˚#arataki itto #arataki itto x reader #arataki itto x female reader #arataki itto x male reader #arataki itto x gender neutral reader #itto x female reader #itto x male reader #itto x gn reader #itto fluff #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin x gn reader #genshin x female reader #genshin x male reader #modern au #fluff

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autumntouched · 1 year

Text

Every Time It Comes Around

Pairing: Hangman/Phoenix

A/N: Welp, this one went from a drabble to a saga real fast. From my head to the page with few edits.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW. Language, sexism, masturbation, wet dreams, alcohol consumption, drunk (protected) penetrative sex, oral sex, sexual fantasies without the other person’s knowledge/consent

The first time it happens, it’s an accident.

It starts when he’s in training at Meridian watching from the ground while the newest cohort of pilots shows off everything they’ve got to the instructors.

After two years here, he’s no longer surprised by their choppy flying, stupid mistakes, and over corrections. But there’s a reason everyone’s stopping to watch this round even though the Mississippi humidity is dialed up to full force. This pilot flies with precision, adjusting fluidly and confidently whenever the instructor tries to force an error. A lot of newbies get thrown off by the speed at which F/A-18 Hornets catch currents but this one floats into them like a freaking bird.

“He’s good,” Jake acknowledges begrudgingly.

“She,” Archer corrects. “It’s that pretty dark-haired chick.”

“Ensign Trace,” he says without thinking and not trying to hide the irritation in his voice. Although he hasn’t met her yet, according to the roster she’s the only woman in the cohort. It annoys him that the women have to prove themselves before a lot of the guys bother to learn or use their names.

Archer is oblivious. “You know her? Colt says she’s kinda uptight.”

“Colt thinks that about any woman who doesn’t drop her panties for him.”

“Probably likes girls,” Archer shrugs. “I get that vibe, you know?”

Jake’s stomach curdles, and he can’t tell if it’s the heat or stupidity that’s suffocating him. “Or maybe she doesn’t want to be bothered by a bunch of limp dicks.” His mom would cry if she heard some of the things that come out of his mouth these days.

Archer looks at him slyly and elbows him in the ribs. Jake’s popular enough that he can drop an insult and people think it’s funny. “So you think you got a shot there, Hangman?”

Done with this conversation, he puts on his aviators. “If you dumbasses had any sense, you’d be a lot more concerned with what she does in the air than a bed.”

He strolls back into the air conditioned training facilities before he sweats through his flight suit. Although he has no interest in speculating about Natasha Trace’s personal life, he wants to scope the competition so he takes his time in the locker room. He ducks out with his sports bag over his shoulder and water bottle in hand as soon as the first deflated newbie drags his feet through the door.

The water fountain gives him a full view of the corridor. He’s dumped his water and refilled the bottle twice when she finally squeaks to the top of the stairs. After he aced his test on the first day, he couldn’t shake the guys off him. But she’s alone, somehow a little smaller than he expected although he’s not sure what he was expecting.

Her dark hair is drenched with sweat and her bun has started to unravel down her neck. Alert eyes find him immediately.

“Hey! Natasha.” Her eyes widen, and she turns at the sound of her name. Another one of the newbies jogs up the stairs behind her. He’s tall, a little stocky despite his height. The scars on his face and neck might be more noticeable if they weren’t completely drowned out by his obscene pornstache. Jake can’t believe the Navy has nothing to say about what should be a violation of every single uniform code.

“Great flying up there today.”

Her face lights up in an embarrassed but appreciative smile. “Not so bad yourself, Bradshaw.”

They fall in step together, talking about what they wish they’d done better.

Jake can’t help himself. With a mustache like that, the dude’s asking for it. “Manage to keep up today, Pornstache?” he calls. Several of the guys who followed him out of the locker room laugh at Bradshaw’s expense.

The newbie’s face darkens and he takes a step toward Jake, but Trace puts a hand on his arm. “Ignore him, Bradshaw. Let him take his little shots at us. It’s not like he can find anyone his own size to pick on when they don’t come any smaller than what he has.”

And she says it so off-handedly, so un-ruffled that he has to check the expressions of the other guys in the hallway to make sure that Natasha Trace did indeed just casually imply that he has a small dick. He’d faced his share of hazing his first year but everyone that followed either beelined for his good side or stayed out of his way.

All eyes, except hers, are on him. She’s on her way to the women’s locker room as if they politely shook hands and said hello.

“Ensign Trace, is it?” he calls after her. “Be careful you don’t trip over those balls you got there.”

Without a second glance or missing a step, she gives him the finger.

So two nights later as he showers off a late workout at the gym, he’s not sure why the image of Natasha Trace’s dark hair tumbling out of its bun pops into his head and is certainly not prepared for the heated tightening in his groin that comes with it. Jake tries to push away the thought but the more he pushes the more persistent it and his hardening erection become. Taking himself in hand, his desperation to come up with anyone else matches the urgency of his strokes. But it’s her dark eyes and smirking lips that drag a deep, desperate groan from him as he pumps hard into his release. The water drags his cum down his wrist and arm. Mortified, Jake leans into the tile wall and buries his burning face in his arm. “Fuck.” He’s a fucking hypocrite.

The second time it happens, it’s not exactly his fault.

He’s catching up with Coyote over wings from one of those hole in the wall, side of the road shacks in southern Virginia that probably failed its health inspection years ago. They’re that good. Coyote’s passing through on his way to Naples, Italy and Jake plans to visit as soon as he can get leave.

“Yo,” Coyote says after licking the burn of the hot sauce off his lips. “Guess who got selected for Top Gun?”

“Who?”

“Of course, Phoenix. But I heard they sent Rooster too.”

It’s been a minute since Jake’s thought about either of them. He’s been drowning in work after one of the guys was diagnosed with a terminal illness and had to go on leave before they could bring in more support.

“Hope the Navy has budgeted enough fuel for that,” he jokes and Coyote snickers.

Jake makes sure Coyote’s all set in the guest bedroom before he heads down the hall to bed. He’s glad they got to catch up, but it’s way past his bedtime and he’s wiped from another long week at work.

“I thought they taught Top Gun pilots to fly fast,” Phoenix laughs. She’s straddling him, utterly and beautifully naked. Her dark hair slips over her shoulder as she leans forward to kiss him. He groans and weaves his fingers into her soft tresses. She tastes so good, like salted watermelon on a sweltering Texas afternoon.

“They do,” he gloats when she pulls back.

She gives him that skeptical look that says she won’t believe anything he says unless she sees it for herself.

He grabs her around the waist and rolls them over so that she’s pinned into the pillows. She laughs and struggles for the upper hand again.

“Oh no you don’t,” Jake growls, kissing his way down her neck and breasts. He marvels at how perfectly her curves fit his hands. Her giggles fade to gasps as he moves below deck to test the waters with first his fingers then his mouth. She clutches his hair and rocks into him. He wants to make her feel so good, to hear her tell him how much she wants him.

“Come fly with me,” she pleads breathily instead.

“Anytime,” he promises, moving up to kiss her deeply as he buries himself in her. Phoenix clutches his shoulders, arching her breasts into his chest as his arm slips under her to hold her closer.

She’s so tight around him that each stroke reverberates through every nerve in his body. He pushes into her faster, harder, his chest heaving with the effort of bringing them to their release.

Jake’s eyes fly open just in time for him to stifle his cry in his arm as his hips jerk and hard, hot spurts of cum soak the crotch and waistband of his boxer briefs. He breathes heavily in the muffled aftermath of his orgasm, listening for any sign that Coyote is still asleep and hasn’t overheard him having a wet dream about Phoenix, of all people. The house remains quiet and Jake can only hope that if he did happen to hear something, they can pretend like it didn’t happen in the morning.

He throws off his covers and moves as quietly as he can across the hardwood floor to the bathroom. Fumbling in the darkness, he accidentally flips on the loud, rattling fan. Jake slams it off and waits again for any hint Coyote’s awake now. Nothing. He flips the right switch and goes to the sink to splash his face with water. In the mirror, his cheeks and upper body are flushed and his eyes slightly dazed. Ruefully, he looks down at the mess of his underwear before stripping them off carefully and tossing them in the hamper. He does his best to clean himself up before going back to bed.

The third time it happens, it’s a slip of the tongue.

When he put Turbo’s wedding in his calendar, Jake assumed he’d have a plus one for the day. He hadn’t counted on being dumped two weeks before. He made a few calls, sent a few texts but this late in the game everyone he knows well enough to ask either has Labor Day plans or will be at the wedding.

There’s only one last person he can think of and his stomach is a pit of lead when he makes the call.

“How much are you willing to pay, dickhead?” she answers.

“What?”

“If you’re calling me, you want something. So how much are you willing to pay?”

Jake gets his footing. “Two thousand but if I pay you to go to a wedding with me, you’re essentially starting a second career as an escort.”

“Where is it?”

“Denver. Should be fun. You like the outdoors right?” Phoenix gets quiet, and he pushes on. If she’s asking for details, she can be persuaded. “It’s in two weeks.”

“I can’t. I have plans that weekend.”

“Plans I can’t buy you out of?” he wheedles.

“It’s Turbo’s wedding, right?”

Jake pauses before he says something stupid. He didn’t realize that she and Turbo were close enough for a wedding invite. Had he completely missed them being stationed together somewhere?

“Rooster asked me to be his plus one months ago so…”

Anger flares in his chest. “Is he that single he knows six months out to ask a friend?”

“Are you that single that you waited two weeks out to ask a friend?” she snaps. “Pro tip. If you’re going to ask someone a favor, don’t be a dick.” She hangs up on him.

He tosses his phone across the couch. Well he really blew that. His phone rings and he snatches it up ready to smooth things over. It’s his cousin, not her.

“I called in a huge favor from one of my sorority sisters, and she’ll be your plus one. Her name’s Jamie. She’s expecting a text from you. You owe me big time, Jake.”

Fallon really does do him a solid he realizes when he meets Jamie for dinner the night before the wedding. She’s a little shy at first, but she’s a good sport and enjoys dancing.

He can’t help but notice though when Phoenix and Rooster enter the church. One thing he’ll say about both of them, they know how to make an entrance. Since there’s no Hawaiian shirt in sight, he suspects Phoenix did the styling. Some women look washed out in black but not Phoenix. She’s wearing dark red lipstick and a stunning black number with a curved skirt that flirts just above her knees and a fitted, high neck top tied in a bow that drapes down her open back. Tall, pearlescent pointed heels draw his attention down her shapely legs. Her hair is slicked back into a full bun at the top of her head.

“Oh my god,” Jamie gasps, her gaze following his. “That couple is gorgeous.”

“They’re not a couple,” he says, sounding petulant even to himself.

Obliviously kind, Jamie shakes her head. “Well they should be.”

The wedding is sweet, but he decides he hates Turbo’s new wife as soon as he sees the seating chart. Why would anyone sit him with Rooster?

“Oh shit, they’re sitting with us,” Jamie breathes when Phoenix and Rooster arrive at the table.

“Looking good, Hangman,” Rooster smirks.

“I am good, Rooster. I’m very good,” he drawls and drapes his arm over the back of Jamie’s chair.

Phoenix raises an all too eloquent eyebrow.

Jamie bounces out of her seat without waiting for him to introduce her. She’s very pretty in an elegant dark rose dress with honey highlighted curls down her back but looks more cute next to Phoenix’s black swan. “I’m Jamie,” she says, holding out her hand. “I wanted to tell you as soon as I saw you that you look gorgeous in that outfit.”

Summoning his manners, Jake follows her to his feet.

“Thanks, and that color’s so pretty on you,” Phoenix says, leaning across the table to shake Jamie’s hand. Crap, he thinks grumpily. Of all the people at this wedding for Phoenix to girl bond with. “I’m Natasha, but you’ll probably hear most people here call me Phoenix.”

“What should I call you then?”

“Natasha,” Phoenix says with a warm smile. “So I can pretend with at least someone that I have the night off.”

Jake jumps in before he looks like a total asshole. “And what are you tonight, Rooster?”

Rooster braces one hand on Phoenix’s lower back when he goes in to shake Jamie’s hand. Phoenix doesn’t shake him off. “How about Bradley?”

“So nice to meet you,” Jamie beams. “Are you friends of Jake’s?”

“Depends on how much we’ve had to drink,” Phoenix says wryly, pulling out Rooster’s chair for him and dropping into her own. Jamie laughs and keeps the conversation flowing. Jake watches Phoenix and Rooster through narrowed eyes as he takes his seat again. He’s sure he’d have heard through the aviator grape vine if they are a thing, but they’re acting way too comfortable to be just friends.

He grabs a flute of champagne off a passing tray.

For most people, the night gets more fun from there. Phoenix and Rooster need nothing more than the DJ announcing the floor is open for them to get up and dance. They’re both the kind of people who dance like no one’s watching so it’s not long before they’ve drawn a crowd.

“We should go up there,” Jamie urges, tugging him out of his seat. And he has the decency to feel bad because she’s been the most gracious last minute plus one anyone could be.

But of course she wants to dance with Phoenix and of course they hit it off even more as soon as the Spice Girls’ “Wannabe” comes on and Phoenix kicks off her shoes so she can jump up and down.

Jake offers to get them cocktails from the bar.

And gradually as the party goes on, her bun slides from its perch and drifts down to the back of her neck as tendrils of hair unfurl from its hold. And Rooster has the nerve to keep helping her try to fix it.

At least she sits out the bouquet toss, Jake thinks, as he downs another cocktail to keep showing Jamie a good time.

And Jamie is a good time. She’s game to dance to any song, knows all the line dances, and holds him close as he rocks them through a ballad.

“Your friends are really nice,” she says into his shoulder. “I’m glad Fallon talked me into this.”

He probably shouldn’t but he does. Jake tilts her chin up and kisses her.

After a moment, Jamie pulls back with a laugh. “Hey! I just came for the free food and booze while I’m living off student loans. Nothing else required.”

“That’s too bad because you’re looking pretty gorgeous yourself right now,” he murmurs. And there’s a voice in the back of his head demanding that he stop, but he lets the alcohol wash over him and drown it out.

“Am I?” she teases.

“Sounds like you already know it.”

“Maybe I need you to convince me a little harder.”

She’s good.

And she’s good when she’s writhing beneath his mouth in his hotel room. And he’s hot and drunk and so turned on. It’s been awhile since his last drunk hookup, and although he can’t keep track of all of the sensations he likes the fluidity that comes with it.

“Wait, wait,” she pants, wriggling out from under him. Her neat curls are now a mess and stick to her steamy skin. He props himself on his arm while she catches her breath. Maybe he was wrong. She’s pretty beautiful.

“I have an IUD but I’d prefer if you’d use a condom,” she tells him.

Jake rolls off her and digs his wallet out of his pocket, hoping he replenished his supply.

“There’s one in my clutch, if you need it.”

He looks up and grins. “I thought you said you just came for the free food and booze.”

Jamie smirks. “Girl Scout motto. Always be prepared.”

Looking in her purse, he discovers she really is prepared with several options, including size. He grabs one and hurries back to the bed.

Darting his hand out, he grabs her by the ankle and pulls her gently toward him. “Now where did we leave off?”

She grins up at him. “Where do you want to pick up from?”

He crawls over her and, keeping his eyes locked on hers, lowers his mouth to her nipple.

And maybe if they left the lights on once the condom was on, or if he had one maybe two fewer drinks and didn’t have to focus so hard on his pace, or if he weren’t thinking of another woman’s dark hair falling loose down her back even as he ground his hips into another, it wouldn’t have happened. But it did.

The muscles in his abdomen and groin constrict to push him over the edge and then she does something with her hips that short circuits every wire in his brain, and all he can feel is the crash of his orgasm shuddering through his body.

“Jake?” he hears her when the roaring in his ears subsides.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he mumbles and pushes himself up to hopefully finish her off halfway decently.

He reaches between them to touch her, but she grabs his hand. “Wait, stop. Please stop.” And he hears in her voice now that she’s trying not to cry. He goes to turn on the light, but she still has his hand.

“I’m just turning on the light,” he says gently. “Are you okay?”

“You called me Phoenix.”

Oh shit.

”What?”

Jamie trembles, and there’s a sinking feeling in his stomach. “When you, when you came. You said her name. Twice actually.” She’s quiet, shaking beneath him. “Can you get off me now?”

Jake hates how long it feels for him to pull out of her and move to the other side of the bed. Jamie springs up.

“Hang on,” he says desperately. Fallon is going to murder him, and she’d be well within her rights. “I’m sorry.”

She starts moving around in the dark looking for the pieces of her outfit while he sits there with his dick in his hand trying to keep his cum from spilling all over the bed. “Fallon told me you’d just gone through a break up so I wasn’t expecting anything.” She’s crying. “And you know what, this would’ve been a lot less humiliating if you’d called me your ex-girlfriend’s name. Because I can see that. Everyone needs a rebound.”

Jamie finds her dress and pulls it on, not bothering when she can’t find her underwear. “But now I feel stupid because all night I was the girl you were using to try to make another one jealous and when you couldn’t get her, I was the consolation prize.”

Jake maneuvers carefully off the bed. “I get it looks like that but I didn’t mean—.”

She stalks across the room to grab her purse. “You don’t really get to tell me what you meant when what you did is crystal clear. I should’ve listened to Fallon when she told me you could be a real piece of work.”

Jamie storms out, slamming the door behind her.

He learns from Fallon’s infuriated call that Jamie ran into Phoenix and Rooster on her way out. She accepted their help getting home, apparently telling them her roommate had an emergency and neither of them put her in the position of making her answer why Jake wasn’t the one helping her. Not that Phoenix would have believed her if she told the truth.

He gets one final text from Jamie before his number’s blocked. She’s too good for you.

Jake can’t disagree.

The fourth time it happens, it’s an act of desperation.

Jake tosses aside the F/A-18 Hornet manual. It’s not like Maverick’s playing by the book anyway. And it’s definitely not doing anything to distract him from the dark-haired siren that has come exasperatedly marching back into his life with the two of them being called back to Top Gun.

At this point, he really has no shame left so he turns off the light in the room the Navy’s putting him up in, strips off his shirt, and kicks off his shorts. He’s already leaking so much at the memory of her mouth lowering and rising during their 200 push ups that he’s well on the road to hell.

Why fight it? He flops down into the pillows of his bed and lets himself remember the way her sweat soaked tee shirt clung to her chest. His dick throbs and pushes against the fabric of his boxer briefs. He slides his hand into his waistband and closes his eyes.

And it’s almost a crime how fast the fantasy comes to him, of her between his legs, that smirk fitted around him, her brown eyes a little mocking, as she bobs her hot mouth along his length. He squeezes and feels her suck, her cheeks hollowing and doing wild things to his heart rate as her hair falls into her face.

Jake hisses and draws his legs up slightly against the coil of tension tightening his balls at the stroke of his hand. Hers would be smaller, but he thinks of them steady and sure on her controls and lets a quiet moan roll up out of his chest as his thumb becomes her tongue swirling his tip.

This is so wrong but that doesn’t lessen the force of him cumming as those dark eyes watch him spurt across his stomach.

He gasps through the lightheaded turbulence of his orgasm. Jake’s pretty sure he’s taken care of the problem until Maverick orders them to the beach for dogfight football. Remembering her sports bra and shorts riding up as she stretched out her toned legs sends him back to square one. He can’t keep doing this.

The fifth time it happens, it’s a surrender.

He can hear her voice through the curtains, talking to Bob. They’re in the carrier’s medical bay for exams and clearance post mission.

Bob says something that makes her laugh and Jake feels the stirring between his legs. And before he can stop himself, he’s remembering her eager hug on deck.

Fuck no. He glances down his flight suit, trying to get himself to cooperate but the problem is growing out of control. Jake grips himself. Not now, he pleads with his body. Just an hour or two until he makes it back to his bunk.

Curtains scrape back. “Where’s Rooster?” he hears her ask.

“We need to run a few more tests on him,” the doctor replies.

“Lieutenant Seresin?”

His eyes open to see his doctor skimming his chart. “Give me a minute?” he asks, trying to hold onto the last shreds of his dignity.

She doesn’t. “Don’t worry. You’d be surprised how normal it is. It’ll subside when the adrenaline wears off.”

Phoenix is still talking. Part of him wants her to keep going because that means she has no idea what’s going on and part of him pleads for her to shut up so he can try to settle down.

Dr. Gomez has him sit up, ignoring the protruding tent in his flight suit. He has to hand it to her. She is superbly professional while she runs through his physical exam.

He’s still in desperate straits when she finishes her paperwork. “All right,” she tells him. “You’re free to go whenever but um, take your time if you need.”

Jake nods. “Thanks, ma’am.”

As soon as she leaves, he grabs his helmet and flight gear and makes his escape.

Or tries to.

“Hey Bagman!”

God, he’s sinned one too many times. He turns carefully so that his helmet and gear block the lower half of his body. Immediately, he wishes he’d ignored her.

Her cheeks are flushed, eyes bright and a little glassy. She’s fumbling while she tries to tie her flight suit around her waist. “Wait up,” she says giddily.

“Are you sure someone shouldn’t keep an eye on you?” he checks.

“They’re gonna let me shower and come back.” Phoenix grabs her stuff and catches up to him.

This is really not what he needs. Jake risks a glance downward to make sure there’s no chance she can tell what she’s doing to him. Since he can’t spare enough concentration to shake her, he resigns himself to the ten minutes of torture it’s going to take to get back to his quarters.

“You okay?” she checks as they navigate through the narrow corridors. Every time he has to move aside to let someone pass, Jake adjusts his gear and prays no one notices.

“I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“I just got cleared so yeah,” he snaps.

Phoenix goes quiet, and he feels terrible for talking to her like that. He knows what that high can be like and that right now she’s craving the closeness of the people she just flew through hell with. He just wishes she’d dumped that on Bob.

Jake makes the most of his longer stride to stay ahead of her as they take the stairs to the officers quarters. They reach his room first. “Glad you made it back, Phoenix,” he says and slams the door in her shocked face.

Swearing, he tosses his things on the floor and flings himself onto his bunk. Of course. Now, his dick decides it’s had enough.

He goes looking for her later. She’s back in the med bay, clearly coming down from the adrenaline. The lights are dimmed for the evening. Exhaustion grays her face and stoops her shoulders.

“Hey.”

Her dark eyes drift up and her expression closes. “I thought they cleared you.”

“Can I sit?” he asks, jutting his chin toward the chair beside the bed.

“Sure.”

He takes a seat. Phoenix folds her hands in her lap.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier,” Jake admits.

She shrugs. “Today was a lot.”

“You did good out there.”

“Thanks. So did you.” She takes a long inhale and looks up at the ceiling. “What do you want, Bagman?”

“Do you want the long or short answer to that question?”

That catches her by surprise. She folds her arms. “Do I want either?”

“Probably not,” he concedes. Jake tries to think of how he’d be sitting if this conversation meant nothing to him. Leaning back in the chair, ankle over thigh? Not here at all?

He’s piqued her curiosity although she tries not to show it by forcing her mouth into a frown. “Short.”

It’s cool in the med bay but there’s sweat rolling down his lower back as he weighs his answer. It’s not like he has much to actually lose even though it feels like everything with her.

“You.”

“Me what?” she snaps when he doesn’t say anything else.

“You asked for the short answer, and I gave it to you.”

He can see the wheels turning in her head, gears grinding over the things that don’t make sense. Phoenix winces as if she’s getting a headache. “I’m not really in the mood for your shit today,” she decides.

Heart hammering, he leans forward. “I’m not giving you shit, Phoenix.” That comes out way more intensely than he planned, and he can see the irritation starting to pinch her eyes. “I like the way you fly. I like the way you get annoyed at me. I like that you’re kind and thoughtful but can deliver an insult in the most offhand way. I like the way your hair looks when you take off your helmet. I can keep going but it pretty much all boils down to what I want is you.”

She’s staring at him in open mouthed shock. Never one to be at a loss for words, Phoenix falls back against the raised bed. “And when did all this occur to you?”

“Through a lot of stupid mistakes,” he confesses, thinking of how he treated Jamie. “I haven’t exactly been the best person.”

Phoenix snorts. “At least you’re an honest idiot.”

His heart sinks at her dismissal of the feelings he’s just poured out into her lap, but he hitches on a smile. “Ouch.”

“Remember the woman you took to Turbo’s wedding?”

Can she read his mind now, too?

“I loaned her some clothes to go home in. She brought them back the next day and apologized. I thought she meant for needing help, but she said she didn’t know what she was getting into and told me that everything she’d done and said was genuine. That was it. It didn’t make sense to me but Rooster got it right away. I thought he was just being jealous.”

He tries not to get distracted by wondering what reason Rooster had to be jealous. Because what she’s really telling him is how long she’s known and done nothing about it. It’s just like Phoenix to be able to let someone down easy when she wants to and for all the pain he’s been in her ass, he appreciates it.

Jake pushes himself to his feet, trying to hold together the pieces of his heart until there’s no one there to see them fall apart. “Sorry. You had a long day. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“It doesn’t really make sense to like someone you barely see,” she says. Maybe this won’t be so easy after all.

“It doesn’t,” he agrees. The curtained off area her bed is in feels like it’s closing in. He needs to escape before he gets stuck.

“That’s what I’ve told myself over and over,” she goes on. “It’ll have worn off by the next time. But every time, it comes around.”

He looks over his shoulder at her, and her expression so tired and exasperated. Jake should have left this alone. “Here’s hoping this is it then.”

“You better not hang me out to dry, Hangman, because it’s not going to be easy.”

What?

“If you want to do this,” she finishes.

His chest tightens, and he tries to push down the hope wringing the breath out of his lungs. “I do. Do you?”

“I think it’s worth a shot.”

Jake moves slow, terrified this is all just another one of his dreams. He touches the foot of her bed, the pilled blanket over her, her hip to make sure he’s awake. The equipment on the wall wouldn’t have so many details in a dream, would it. He leans in, heart racing, and her dark eyes fall to his lips as they hover over hers. Then she cups his face and closes the distance between them.

Her lips are chapped and rough, her breath a little stale from sleep. The metallic carrier air sours her stress-laced sweat and whatever she washed her hair with left it still greasy. And yet, it’s better than anything his mind has ever come up with because this time, it’s real.

Every Time It Comes Around Pt. II

#hannix #jake hangman seresin #natasha phoenix trace #top gun maverick fanfiction

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beforeimdeceased · 6 months

Note

Hi bun! I’ve been a long time follower and fan of your blog and recently started writing myself! I’ve put out one work before that got a few likes and I’m always interacting with other tlou blogs. Recently tho I put out a longer fic. I put a bunch of tags on it and made sure it wasn’t community labeled but it has gotten zero interaction. It might just be that people don’t like it but I don’t even think my mutuals saw it. Has anything like this ever happened to you?? And do you have any tips for getting traction with your fics? Thank you!!💗

hii sweetheart! happy to hear you decided to start writing! i understand the frustration with lack of traction all too well, with some of my earlier fics id watch them toggle between the little notes they’d get. i’d say some great ways to get interactions are:

make the fic catch the reader’s attention/start with an outlandish sentence so you can draw them in.

make it aesthetically pleasing in your style! (you can probably tell mine it moodboards and small text 😭) or even add some cute little copy and paste symbols!

ensure there’s no grammatical errors! small thing but ik a lot of people stop reading if there’s alot of grammar mistakes.

come up with a taglist! because your mutuals may not see it! it’s also good to add readers who like your content so they don’t have to turn your notifications on!

use lots of fic based tags! (abby anderson headcanons, ellie williams drabble, ellie williams imagine etc.)

you can also send it to me!!! i don’t mind! i will read it, comment, reblog, review it — all the works! all the luck and love to you my dear <3

#bunnie can speak? ☆#bun’s asks ꕤ #bun’s anons ˖°🦇ִ ࣪𖤐 #bun helps!#writer advice #fanfic writing

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dcbbw · 1 year

Text

Hazy Shades of Winter

Happy 2023, tumblrs! Or as I like to say, “Welcome to 2020-3,” which means Year 3 of the Year 2020. The FIRST DAY of the NEW YEAR, I tested positive for Covid. For the second time within a year. I’m grateful both cases have been relatively mild, and I remain (somewhat) functional.

My first fic for 2020-3 is a collection of drabbles comprised of the many Winter OTP asks sent to me by the lovely @neotericthemis. I could’ve made it easy on myself and simply answered Person A/Person B, but I’m extra and frankly, I wondered if I could make coherent, cohesive stories from the asks … and here we are.

Not beta’d, and it’s mostly written, proofed and edited by Covid. You’ve been warned. MS Editor rates this story 99% error-free. Please excuse any and all typos, missing/extraneous words, and/or grammatical errors.

I hope all who read this enjoy it. THANK YOU to those who comment, like, and/or reblog; it is appreciated more than you will ever know.

Pairings in this story (these stories): Liam x Riley; Liam x Maxwell

Rating is M for Mature (it’s me, and better to err on the side of caution)

All characters (except Fric and Frac) belong to Pixelberry

Song Inspo: Silent Night, DRM

Word Count:4,779

Discontent Liam x Riley

Who wants to cosy up to the fire?

Who wants a kiss under the mistletoe?

Who is bad at ice skating and keeps falling on their butt?

The doors to the monarchs’ private suite quietly shut behind the King as he entered the darkened quarters. A fire burned in the hearth, embers popping and hissing as the blaze consumed the logs. The heat warded off the chill from the snow and ice outside.

It was a centuries-old palace; windows were drafty despite upgrades to the heating units.

His eyes adjusted to the dimness, and his gaze found Mara dozing fitfully in a wingback armchair. As he silently padded across the carpet, he saw his wife’s prone form on the settee in his peripheral vision.

Her white satin sleeping gown was yellowed by the firelight; a blanket was bunched at her feet. Her soft snores reminded him of a kitten purring.

Mara started at feeling the gentle shove upon her shoulder; her eyes blinked open, and she looked sheepishly at her employer. Liam reassured her with a small smile.

“You’re fine,” he whispered. He tilted his head in his wife’s direction. “Did Riley eat tonight?”

The sentry nodded affirmatively. When she spoke, her tone was hushed. “Pasta. She made sure a plate was put aside for you. It’s in the refrigerator.”

“What did she … drink?” His voice tripped over the last word.

“Wine. Just one bottle tonight.”

Liam nodded slowly, staring at a sleeping Riley before speaking. “You go get some sleep, Mara. I’m here now.”

Mara stiffly rose from her seat. “I’ll put the alarm on my way out.”

“Thank you,” the King replied as he made his way to the sofa, removing shoes and jacket along the way.

He paused to pull the throw up over Riley’s body before settling into a corner of the divan, gently lifting his Queen’s head so it now rested in his lap. January moonlight eked through partially closed curtains as his gaze trained on the fire.

There was a time when Riley would be the first one awake, dressed, and ready to indulge in outdoor winter sports, particularly ice skating despite the fact she was terrible at it. She would hit Liam over his head with pillows until he grudgingly woke up and joined her and their friends at the pond on the North Lawn.

Her eyes would widen with fright as she wobbled and stumbled onto the ice; they would fill with rueful acceptance and laughter when she inevitably fell. But they would close in blessed relief when Liam’s strong arms wrapped around her, steadying her balance as he guided them around the lake.

Now, she fretted that all the falls contributed to her infertility, despite assurances from doctors and her husband that it wasn’t true.

Christmas was their favorite holiday. Riley liked to say winter was a time of rest and rejuvenation; that the world slowed down and people were kinder, gentler when the nights were the longest. Of all her duties as Queen, her favorite project was the annual holiday decorating of the Grand Foyers at both the Palace and Valtoria. She hung mistletoe beneath every doorway, and over their bed as not-so-subtle hints to her husband to kiss her.

As if he needed reminders.

On Christmas Eve, she would enter their bedchambers naked and covered in faux mistletoe; the sun would be rising before Liam removed all the green leaves from her body.

His fingers idly combed through her hair as he recalled that his Queen had not hung one mistletoe over the holiday season. Liam could not remember the last time he and his wife had touched each other intimately.

God, he missed her.

He sighed as his gaze shifted from the fire to Riley’s profile. She looked … peaceful in repose. There was no worry, no stress, no tension in sleep. He removed his fingers from her hair, pressed a kiss to the index and middle fingers, and lay the digits against her cheek.

At least she still enjoyed sitting by a fire. They could continue to share that, at least.

“Liam?” Riley stirred slightly.

“I’m here, love,” he answered quietly.

He expected her to leave; rise up, grab a bottle of gin, and sweep into her chambers in an effort to avoid the fact she had a husband, that they had a marriage.

But she didn’t.

“The fire’s lovely, isn’t it?” she murmured sleepily as she continued to lay her head in his lap.

“It is. Do you need another blanket?” he asked, the back of his fingers idly stroking her cheek.

She shook her head slightly. “No.”

“Do you wish to retire to your quarters?”

A pause. “Can we just stay here?”

Liam released a silent sigh of relief. “Of course, love.”

Object of Affection Liam x Riley (Mermaids)

Who still believes in Santa?

Who is the best gift giver?

Who wants to go caroling?

“Lady Riley, why aren’t you ready?” Liam demanded indignantly.

He stood in her common area, wearing a tuxedo and a top hat. His hands were on his hips, and a frown downturned his lips.

“Ready for what? And why are you dressed that way?” Riley questioned as she rummaged in her refrigerator. She let out a triumphant cry as she pulled out a carton of Lythikos nog.

“Caroling! Every year, the reigning monarch, along with their family and closest friends, go caroling the week before Christmas along the Stormholt Historic District. I put it on your calendar!”

Riley drank her nog directly from the carton, wiping away the left-behind creamy mustache from her upper lip with the back of her hand. Her eyes went between Liam and looking down at her outfit: blue yoga pants, a sleeveless white tee shirt that read: Peace. Love. Bubblegum.; fuzzy pink slipper socks were on her feet. Her hair was a frizzy afro.

“I never got the calendar invite. You can check for yourself,” she shrugged.

Liam began to pace the rooms, clearly agitated. “This is TRADITION, and you are treating it so … so nonchalantly! As Queen, you will be expected to …”

“You forget, me marrying you was MY idea! NOT yours. I realize the expectations. I am telling you, I received nada from you or your people,” Riley retorted as she disappeared into her bedroom.

“Where are you going now?” Liam demanded angrily.

“To get ready!” Riley snapped.

Liam tossed his hat onto a nearby chair before picking up his betrothed’s phone. “May I check your calendar?” he called out.

“I don’t care,” Riley replied before the sound of the shower turning on filled the space.

Liam’s brow furrowed as he pulled up Riley’s outlook. Obviously, she stayed logged in as it opened immediately. His eyes quickly scanned the list of correspondence: Regina, Madeleine, himself, her assistant. He tapped the calendar icon; December 18 was empty.

The frown between his brows deepened. Liam had personally sent the invitation on December 1; he hadn’t had time to follow-up with Riley on her confirmation. End-of-year was a busy time for governance, and he had been busy meeting with duchy leaders regarding finances, trade agreements, and a military alliance amongst many pressing issues.

Did he somehow overlook her invitation?

“Do I need to carry a candle and a book, like Charles Dickens?” Riley’s question interrupted his wonderings.

He looked up, and his eyes widened in wonder and delight. His fiancée stood before him in a high-necked, green velvet maxi dress adorned with white sequined snowflakes. Her hair was an upsweep of glossy brown curls. Sensibly heeled dark brown boots adorned her feet and disappeared beneath the skirt of her frock.

“You look utterly gorgeous,” Liam praised as he bowed to kiss the back of her hand.

“Thank you,” Riley blushed.

“Is the car waiting downstairs?” Riley asked as Liam helped wrap a white, woolen cloak about her body.

“We’ll be arriving by horse-drawn carriage,” Liam corrected.

“You know what would be a better tradition? A live Christmas Eve concert at Bossina Cathedral broadcast to all Cordonia so no citizen is or feels left out.”

Liam paused to stare thoughtfully at Riley. “That is definitely something to consider.”

“I’m on the Holiday Planning Committee. I’ll bring it up at the next meeting.”

In the carriage, the couple made small talk.

“What were your plans this evening if not for caroling?” Liam inquired as he held Riley’s gloved hand in his.

“Hanging Christmas lights inside my rooms. Santa has to know where to find me now since I didn’t leave a forwarding address.”

“I believe Santa knows where to find all the good boys and girls.”

“And we’re back to: I need him to know where to find me!” Riley chuckled.

“I’m happy to help you with the Christmas lights if you’d like,” Liam offered, his eyes glued on her profile.

Riley looked at him skeptically. “My people will call your people.”

They settled into comfortable silence, relishing in the scenery and each other’s company. Liam’s thoughts were focused on his Christmas present to Riley.

Her engagement ring. Her new one. One given out of want and respect, not duty and obligation.

The carriage slowed as they reached their destination, Stormholt Square.

“Will there be bathroom breaks?”

“Shopkeepers provide us with refreshments such as hot cider, hot cocoa, fudge, treats. We are also welcome to utilize their facilities.”

“Thank God,” Riley muttered as she prepared to open her door.

Before she could pull the handle, the door was swung open; before her was the Duchess of Lythikos, her red hair hidden beneath a black Russian fur hat, and her svelte figure encased in a chic red coat. Her Grace’s expression swiftly changed from delight to one of bewildered confusion; Riley saw thinly veiled consternation creep into Olivia’s green eyes.

And in that moment, Riley knew exactly what had happened to her calendar invite.

SGL x Riley B. (DC AU)

Who makes the other hot chocolate?

Who listens to Christmas music way too early?

Who puts up the Christmas lights?

“Voila! Chocolate chip Belgian waffles and caramel hot chocolate!” Liam announced with a wink as he placed a plate and mug before Riley.

Riley’s brown eyes rolled as she took in Liam wearing a snowman onesie, complete with a jaunty red scarf around his neck and a black top hat on the hood, but grew appreciative when she saw the food.

“Why are we dressed this way for breakfast?” she questioned as she pushed the sleeves of her Grinch onesie further up her arms. Riley was messy with syrup, and she liked her waffles with lots of butter and syrup.

“Tis the SEASON!” Liam explained as if it were obvious, before blowing on his cup of cocoa.

Riley looked around as she chewed her waffle; it was delicious. Liam had made them with buttermilk and vanilla.

The sounds of Ella Fitzgerald singing Christmas carols filled the apartment. A six-foot-tall tree stood in a corner of the dining area, decorated with garland, balls, and various ornaments collected over the years. Every window in Liam’s apartment was framed with twinkling Christmas lights. An inflatable reindeer stood watch on the fire escape.

“Liam, you’ve done a great job decorating, but don’t you think it’s a little … much?” she asked.

Liam looked at Riley as if she had slapped him. “THAT right there is why you’re the Grinch, Riley B.! I never figured you to be a Scrooge!”

“And I never thought you were a psycho!”

“I like Christmas, okay?”

“IT’S VETERAN’S DAY! I get it … Christmas is special, for good reason. But celebrating early detracts from the holidays that precede it and makes Christmas less special when it arrives!”

Liam shoved a forkful of waffles into his mouth. “What’s wrong with invoking the spirit that Christmas brings a little earlier? People are kinder, more generous, and just BETTER human beings at Christmas!”

“Then become a Catholic and celebrate December 25 through January 6!”

Riley held out her empty plate. “More, please.”

Liam’s eyes widened in an almost comical manner. “You just called me a psycho and told me to join an organized religion simply because I LIKE CHRISTMAS!” He shook his head resolutely. “No more waffles for YOU!”

Riley set her empty plate down slowly. “I … I didn’t say THAT!”

“But you did!” Liam argued.

“Not LIKE THAT!” Riley protested.

“YES, like that! Those words were said with intent, Riley B. Whether it was specific or general can be debated. But you spoke them with a clear intent.”

He sliced more waffle, then glanced over at her mug. “Drink your cocoa before it gets cold.”

He watched Riley lift her cup before resuming the conversation.

“My wishing to celebrate Christmas earlier is no different than a person celebrating their birthday the entire birth month. Does that somehow lessen the significance of the actual birth date?”

Riley shook her head. “It isn’t the same!”

“Why isn’t it? Tell me HOW, using your own argument, that the person celebrating their birthday all month doesn’t detract from another’s actual birthday in the same month?”

“YOU are celebrating Christmas SIX WEEKS early! You aren’t even in the birthday month!”

Liam smirked. “Christmas is a SEASON, in addition to a day. Can you tell me when the season starts?”

Riley was nonplussed. She bit her lip as she thought.

“Christmas SEASON officially begins the day after Thanksgiving and ends January 2; therefore, I’m only two weeks early, not six. Even with that, I’m still a week behind the big-box retailers.”

“Did you … did you just go Lawyer Liam on me to defend decorating early for Christmas?” Riley asked as she sipped more hot chocolate. “While dressed as a snowman?”

Liam slid from his stool to turn the waffle maker on. He tossed the red scarf over his shoulder before looking back at Riley and giving her a big wink.

“Yup!”

UnRomance Liam x Riley (The 9 ½ Weeks AU)

Who is excited for trimming the Christmas Tree?

Who wraps the presents?

Who wants to build a snowman?

I stand naked before the plate glass window wall in my dining room, watching snow fall into the East River.

“Liam, wake up!” my mother excitedly shakes me awake.

I rub my eyes and scrunch my nose, trying to wake up. It’s Christmas morning, which normally means I would already be awake, but I had stayed up late wrapping mom’s presents.

“It’s snowing! On Christmas Day!” she exclaims in a hushed whisper.

My eyes fly open; my bare feet thump heavily across the wooden floor as I race to the window. My nose presses against cold glass as I watch thick, white flakes fall to join the inches already accumulated on the ground. Our neighborhood is a quiet sea of untouched white crystals.

I turn to look at her, happiness and excitement both in my face and voice. “Mama, can we go out in it?”

She giggles as she rakes her fingers through my sleep-tousled hair. “Of course! Why do you think I woke you up?”

“YAY!” I jump up and down. “We’ll build a snowman?”

She nods in agreement. “Get showered and dressed. Breakfast soon.”

I sip cautiously at the hot black coffee in my mug as I turn from the window and walk through the living room. There is a short Christmas tree standing in one of the corners, no more than four feet tall. Riley put it there. I don’t celebrate the holidays.

“There will be NO TREE, Riley! I have told you REPEATEDLY I DO.NOT.CELEBRATE. ANY. HOLIDAY! You are free to go home to decorate and celebrate as you see fit!”

“You put up that ceramic tabletop tree! A TREE IS A TREE!”

“You need to go home,” I respond quietly. “You have no idea how to respect wishes or boundaries.”

Fear leaps in her eyes at being told to go home. “It’s just a tree. I’ll make sure it’s a small one. PLEASE??”

“I will have nothing to do with it OR this Christmas bullshit you INSIST on bringing to MY house!

She nods sadly. “It’s just a tree,” she whispers.

It’s an artificial one, pre-lit. Lights of red, green, and white twinkle against silver tinsel and golden-colored balls. There are three gifts beneath it: two are in gift bags. They are to me from Riley.

The third is wrapped in comic paper. It’s my mother’s favorite perfume. I bought it for her every year when she was alive. I have brought it for her every year since.

I climb the stairs that lead to the upper floor; I enter the dark, quiet study and sit behind my desk, contemplating what I’m about to do. I don’t turn on the computer or the television. Instead, I place my mug on the desk and rise, making my way towards the closet.

I thrust my arm inside to pull out a shopping bag; it’s filled with wrapping paper and Riley’s gifts. They’re not Christmas gifts; I don’t celebrate the holiday. She’ll merely receive them on Christmas Day.

I carry it all to the desk and begin neatly cover the purchases with silver wrapping, carefully cutting paper, and folding and tucking in corners. The sky lightens as I work; the snow continues to fall. I place the boxes into the bag and return to the closet.

I rummage on the upper shelf, my hand finding what I seek: a newspaper-wrapped ceramic angel holding a sparkly star. I place her atop the gifts and carry bag and mug back downstairs with me. The bag goes beneath the tree, and I carefully unwrap and place my mother’s angel atop it.

I walk into the kitchen, pour the dregs of my coffee down the drain, and check the refrigerator for breakfast ingredients. I slowly head for my bedroom, enjoying the dimness and silence. When I enter, I see a robed Riley clutching a panel of blackout curtain in one hand, her face so close to the glass I’d wager her nose is pressed against it. She turns when she hears me, her face alight with a joyous smile.

“Liam! It’s snowing! On Christmas Day!” she gushes happily.

I stare at her, wanting to tell her to stop being such a child, and to get back in bed.

But I don’t.

She doesn’t know that there is a present for her beneath the Christmas tree. She doesn’t know that I am preparing one of her favorite breakfasts this morning: French crepes, bacon, and matcha latte.

All she knows is that it’s snowing on Christmas morning, and that she’s with me.

I allow her to be happy and enjoy this moment.

I see myself in her.

“Breakfast soon,” I promise as I climb beneath the covers, turning my back to her and the window.

Riam

Who puts up the Christmas lights?

Who hits up Black Friday sales?

Who starts a snowball fight?

“Get back here, you little heathen!” Riley ordered, just before tripping over one of her sons’ toys and faceplanting into the plush carpeting of the boys’ nursery.

Her firstborn, Frac, stopped running when he heard her fall; he stopped and turned, then burst into laughter at seeing his mother felled like a tree.

He pointed a chubby finger at Riley, chanting, “Heevin”.

His mother closed her eyes and slowly counted to 10. It was too early for the emotional damage being inflicted upon her by the tiny humans she helped create.

“You cannot say ‘heathen’ around dada, do you understand?”

“Dada heevin! Dada heevin!” Frac laughed.

Fric, his identical twin and the youngest by three minutes, toddled around Riley and was repeatedly poking his finger into one of her butt cheeks, prominently outlined through her flannel nightgown due to a gigantic wedgie.

“Mama butt!”

“Oh, dear LORD! Stop touching it, little boy!” Riley huffed as she gently smacked Fric’s hand off her.

Frac hurriedly joined his brother, and the boys clambered onto Riley’s back, knocking her back to the floor before she could fully stand; the pair rocked back and forth and bounced up and down on their mother, tiny fingers gripping her gown while shrieking with laughter as they alternated between saying, “Horthee” and “Heevin butt.”

A brisk knock on the door preceded a freshly dressed Liam’s entry; his greeting died on his lips as he took in the scene before him:

His wife face down on the floor, flailing her legs and pounding her fists against the floor, yelling, “STOP THAT!”; a section of her nightgown was bunched between her butt cheeks.

His sons, naked except for diapers, using Riley for horseback rides, while yelling something that sounded suspiciously like horse’s heathen butt.

“Francis! Jonathan!” Liam addressed his sons by their Christian names in a firm tone as he strode towards his family.

The boys abruptly halted their movements, turning their heads almost guiltily. Bright, guileless smiles wreathed their faces when they saw their father.

“DADA!” They scrambled off their mother and ran to Liam.

The King squatted so he was eye-level with his sons. “What were you doing to your mother?” he demanded.

“Mama heevin,” Frac stated as if that explained everything.

“They tried to KILL ME, Liam.” Riley moaned dramatically as she rolled over onto her back. “They are implementing their plan of world domination, and I’m the test subject!”

Liam wagged an index finger before the twins’ faces. “Your mother is NOT a heathen, and we will continue this discussion,” he promised.

The twins looked at each other with startled eyes. “Oh, oh!” they said in unison before scampering off to their bedroom.

Liam chuckled as he stretched out beside his wife. “What did we do before those two came along?”

“Have peace, quiet, allll the food, and not live in fear for our lives.” Riley threw her forearm across her brow.

Liam turned his head so his eyes could take in Riley’s profile. “Do you want to try for another one?”

Riley turned her head, meeting his gaze. “Yes,” she answered softly.

Their hands reached for the other’s, and they lay in relative quiet for a few moments.

“We need to head to Valtoria before the storm comes,” Liam stated.

The royal family would be spending the Christmas/New Year holiday season at the Queen’s duchy as they did every year. This winter season, Valtoria was experiencing significant snowfall and with more accumulation expected all week, it appeared there would be a white Christmas.

“Gladys informed me yesterday that all the orphanages received their packages from “Santa”, so that’s good. And multiple deliveries were made to the Great House from online shippers, so guessing my Black Friday purchases arrived as well.”

“You weren’t the only one to take advantage of lower prices and free shipping, love,” Liam reminded her.

“Did you use my Prime account?” Riley demanded.

“Did you use my credit card?” her husband countered.

Silence. “Maybe.”

Liam laughed quietly as he moved closer to Riley. “Then we’re even.”

“We need to leave within the next hour if we’re going to arrive before more precipitation. Maybe we can take the boys out in the snow before it gets too heavy.”

“Judging by what I walked in on, it’s going to take you that long to get them clothed.”

“You dress them, I’ll order breakfast to go and get ready. Make sure to put them in their reindeer snowsuits.”

Liam’s brow knit. “Love, where did our children learn words like heathen and butt?”

Riley shook her head. “No idea. Maybe those Mickey Mouse cartoons they watch.”

Liam’s eyes narrowed. “I think you do know.”

“You can’t prove that!”

“But I can settle it. Snowball fight in Valtoria.”

“Heathens versus Butts? You’re on!” Riley accepted the challenge as Liam helped her from the floor. “Just so you know, I’m the heathen.”

Liam eyed her posterior admiringly as she made her way to the door. “It’s looking like a butt from here.”

The Queen stuck out her tongue before disappearing through the doorway.

Writer’s Choice (Laxwell)

Who wants to see the Christmas parade?

Who throws the Christmas party?

Who makes homemade gifts?

“This is going to be the BEST Christmas EVER!” Maxwell announced delightedly as he tucked into his lunch.

The Duke of Valtoria, Liam Rys, stared dubiously across the table at his lover before reaching for dressing to pour over his salad. “It’s going to be such a whirlwind! I much prefer a slower-paced, quieter holiday.”

“New Year’s will be quiet. Just us,” Maxwell promised.

“Thank goodness. I don’t want any wild parties, Max!”

“We got the Beaumont Bash, Holiday Edition scheduled on the 23rd. No one will have recuperated enough for another one so soon.”

“Then on Christmas Day, I’m Grand Marshal of the Valtorian Christmas Parade,” Liam added.

“I’ll be front row, and I’ll walk the entire parade route with you. You won’t be alone.”

Liam chuckled as he sliced into his grilled chicken. “With rumors of the entire duchy attending, I would hope not!”

“Your constituents love you.”

Liam shook his head. “They didn’t when I raised the tax rate.”

“Sales tax! By only 3%, and it’s still the lowest in all of Cordonia. Besides, if they don’t, I do,” Maxwell looked up from his plate to bat his eyes at Liam.

“And I love you more,” Liam smiled fondly at the young Lord.

“Y’know, I was thinking … since Christmas Day is going to be jam-packed with the Parade and family dinners, maybe we could exchange gifts Christmas Eve,” Maxwell suggested as he ladled gravy onto his mashed potatoes.

Liam’s eyes widened appreciatively over the rim of his wineglass. “Excellent idea, love!”

“I can’t wait for you to see your present!”

Liam’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Is it a peacock?”

Maxwell raised an eyebrow, his expression giving away nothing. “I’m not telling.”

“Max, if you got me a PEACOCK … you KNOW I’m allergic!”

“Is that what you’re calling being a scaredy-cat nowadays?” Maxwell teased.

Liam bunched up his cloth napkin and lobbed it at his boyfriend. It harmlessly bounced off Maxwell’s hair and onto the carpet. “No peacocks!” Liam warned.

Maxwell grinned to himself. He most definitely had not gotten Liam a peacock, but there was a puppy. A Corgi, rescued from the local animal shelter. That was gift number one.

Gift number two spoke to Liam’s sentiment; it was a pinboard, handcrafted by Maxwell himself. With the help of the Great House’s staff.

It was made of cork, wood that had been painted in Cordonian blue, and macrame rope. Maxwell put a lot of thought into what would go onto the board: peacock feathers; a photo of Queen Eleanor and baby Liam; the ticket stubs from their first U2 concert; a copy of his letter to Liam on their second anniversary; glitter; a picture of Liam the day of his coronation as Duke of Valtoria, wearing his coronet and carrying a shield decorated with the Valtorian coat of arms; a stock photo of two clinking beer bottles, and a photo of their mothers at a tea party, grinning conspiratorially at each other over tea cups.

He hoped Liam liked it.

Liam, across the table, was finishing his meal debating if he should get a refund on Maxwell’s gift. The second-born to the throne was now absolutely convinced that he was getting a peacock for Christmas.

His gift to Maxwell was a two-week trip to France next summer. They would be attending the Peacock Society’s annual electronic dance music festival in Paris. Max would be upset that the Peacock Society had nothing to do with actual peafowl, but in-person attendance at an actual festival would make up for that.

After the three-day festival, the pair would be off to hike the Pyrenees Mountains.

The trip they never got to take.

“WHAT?” Maxwell exclaimed as he reached for more chicken and potatoes. “I feel you watching me!”

“Good! Because I am going to KEEP watching you, every day until Christmas Eve.”

“Well, let me make it worth your while, …” Maxwell pulled his sweater over his head, exposing his muscled bare chest, hippo tattoo, and rippled abs.

He winked at Liam before eating a forkful of chicken and salad.

The Duke audibly gulped before licking his suddenly dry lips. “Please, continue,” he urged.

“If I do that, I’m giving you your present early,” Maxwell protested with a sly grin.

Liam had risen from his seat and was pulling Maxwell from his. “I’ll still want it on Christmas Eve.”

“But the surprise!” Maxwell mock protested as he willingly let Liam lead him towards their bedroom.

“You’ll think of something between now and then.”

Tagging: @jared2612 @ao719 @marietrinmimi @merridithsmiscellany-blog @queenjilian @indiacater @kingliam2019 @bebepac @liamxs-world @mom2000aggie @liamrhysstalker2020 @neotericthemis @twinkleallnight @umccall71 @superharriet @busywoman @gabesmommie1130 @tessa-liam @phoenixrising0308 @beezm @gardeningourmet @lovingchoices14 @foreverethereal123 @mainstreetreader @angelasscribbles @lady-calypso @emkay512 @jovialyouthmusic @princessleac1 @charlotteg234 @queenrileyrose @alj4890 @yourfavaquarius111 @motorcitymademadame @queenmiarys @choicesficwriterscreations @burnsoslow

#dcbbw answers #winter otp ask #liam x riley #laxwell #writer on tumblr #writeblr

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kenziedrawz · 8 months

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Rui g/t drabble + art under the cut.

Rui had a keen eye, he tended to notice some details that most wouldn't.

But lately, a lot more things have been going missing in his house. More than usual, that is. He was used to seeing subtle changes in the amount of certain objects like food, paper clips, twine or yarn sometimes, it was as if there were a tiny person living in his house.

Now it's as of there are two more tiny people, as the amount of things going missing had tripled. His parents were also beginning to notice, he could tell that they were brushing it off. But he couldn't really just brush it off, he was far too curious as to what was going on.

And today, he'd finally found the source, or well, part of the source of the missing items.

It was a tiny, humanoid creature. It had gotten itself trapped in his desk drawer, most likely having gone in there to get a paper clip or something. Rui's curiosity had overtaken him when he saw it, immediately picking it up to get a closer look. It squirmed in his grasp, wriggling and struggling in an attempt to escape.

" Let- Let go of me!" The creature shrieked, it's voice almost as loud as Rui's own could be. Such loudness was unexpected from such a small creature. Rui was almost fascinated with the creature.

" What are you?" Rui asked, his eyes twinkling in fascination. He could see the creature better now, noticing its short, scruffy yet well-kept blond hair that faded to some kind of red-ish orange color. It glared up at him with amber eyes as it pouted at him before picking up its struggles once more.

And then it bit him, it felt like a small pinch on his thumb. " ow." Rui let out as the tiny thing bit his thumb, staring down at it. " Well, that was quite rude now, wasn't it?" He said almost teasingly yet with a small frown on his face. The blond continued to glare at him, staying silent.

" ...Not much of a talker now, are you?" Rui chuckled after a bit of an awkward silence.

" Well maybe I would talk if I wasn't being held against my will." The blond replied with a huff.

-☆-

That's all I'm writing for now, I not letting this turn into a fic like my phantom thief 'drabble'. I am also on my phone and I don't like writing on my phone.

EDIT ; I have noticed a bunch of spelling errors hence I will be fixing them.

#pjsk #project sekai #pjsk au #pjsekai #proseka #colorful stage #rui kamishiro #tsukasa tenma #project sekai g/t #pjsk g/t #pjsekai g/t #proseka g/t #colorful stage g/t

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sleepysakusa · 10 months

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Hey hey awhile back you asked for some cute headcannons, I’m late and all but ill take any chance to dump a random one of mine <3 /p

Sakusa sobs whenever his food touches so after much trial and error Komori caved and bought a bunch of those separator plates and keeps them all stacked neatly next to his plates so Sakusa feels special and like he has his own space in his apartment kitchen :)

i cannot express how much i love kiyoomi this ask made me so happy!!!

this is Soooo sweet! i can definitely imagine sakusa preferring that his food doesn’t touch, and he has so many cute plates with dividers. hello kitty, rilakkuma & friends, chococat, he’s got them all! i enjoyed this so much actually i wrote a little something for it

little drabble info: age regression, i messed around with canon, don’t read too much into it :P kiyoomi is autistic bc i say so & i gave him my rilakkuma love

After graduating high school, Komori immediately signed a contract and joined a professional volleyball team. He was scouted by many, and those teams made similar offers to Kiyoomi. Whether those teams saw their individual talent or assumed they were a package deal, Kiyoomi would never know, but regardless, he turned them all down. He had a few years to decide where he wanted to play, seeing as he had wanted to go to university first.

Three years into his time at university, Kiyoomi had a solid routine. It changed slightly every semester when he took up new classes, but everything else remained the same. Practice almost every week night, practice Saturday mornings, runs every morning, classes every day at their assigned times, and dinner with Komori every single Saturday.

They’d do dinner other nights, too, and hang out together between their scheduled dinners, but they got together every Saturday night without fail. It was a miracle that Komori signed to a team close to Kiyoomi’s college, which made commuting to and from easy.

They’d get together every Saturday night, and they did this every Saturday night, too. Kiyoomi regressed, and Komori kept him company; Komori was familiar with Kiyoomi’s regression and had been there to guide him through it since high school. Here, Kiyoomi had a relaxing and safe environment to regress in, and his annoying roommates weren’t there to bother him.

It was one of those nights, and Komori was standing at the stove in his small one bedroom apartment making dinner for the two of them. He was cooking up something simple, a dish made of spam, rice, and egg. Kiyoomi was already pleasantly fuzzy, the haze of his regression settling over him and the noise from the kitchen blending into the background. Komori glanced over at him every so often to check in, but Kiyoomi was content keeping himself busy on the couch with the games on his Switch.

“Dinner time, Kiyo. Come pick out a plate,” Komori called into the living area, already pulling out the stack of divided plates he kept for Kiyoomi.

Kiyoomi set his game down and entered the kitchen, bouncing on the balls of his feet eagerly.

“Want Korilakkuma,” he said, standing behind Komori and looking over his shoulder. “Please,” he added, watching as Komori sorted through the plates to find the one Kiyoomi had requested.

“Pink Korilakkuma, or yellow Korilakkuma?”

“Pink.” Kiyoomi took the plate when it was handed to him and held it close to his chest, nose scrunching up in excitement.

Each plate had three sections, and they were divided by small walls on the plate. Each section depicted the character in a different scene. Looking at them made Kiyoomi happy, but knowing he could eat his food safely made him happy, too.

Kiyoomi had a lot of sensory needs, and his food being separated was one of those. The foods he would eat were limited, and those foods dwindled once they were combined with others. The textures and flavours mixing were a surefire way to cause a meltdown, and after one too many meals ruined by his food touching, Komori found the perfect solution. He kept the majority of them here in his apartment, with the plates having a special spot in the cupboard next to his other plates, but Kiyoomi had a few plain ones in his dorm.

Sure, the plates were a bit embarrassing for Kiyoomi when he wasn’t regressed, but Rilakkuma was one of his special interests. That was enough to get him to use the plates when big, too.

“Alright, come here, let me get you some food.”

Kiyoomi stood patiently and held his plate as he was served, taking his now full plate and going to sit at the small table. He tapped his palms against his shoulders a few times to get rid of excess energy before digging in.

Komori joined him at the table soon after and began to eat, too. Kiyoomi was kicking his legs, and his feet hit Komori’s shins occasionally, but all it did was make the two of them giggle. It was a great start to the night, and Kiyoomi was excited for the sleepover they would inevitably have.

#this is not my best pls be nice #i just love kiyoomi so much #agere #haikyuu agere #haikyuu #regressor sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #caregiver komori #komori motoya

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agustdiv1ne · 6 months

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i want to get into writing but have a hard time feeling inspired. i have so many good ideas in theory but have such a hard time finding the write words to use.

i guess what i am asking is how do you create the atmosphere of your fics. every time i read one of your stories i am completely immersed and am left wanting more. what inspires you to keep going?

omg hello!! first off, thank you! <3 idk if i'm the most qualified person to answer this question, but i will try my best to :') (everything under the cut bc this got a little long)

please remember that these are the things that work for me. the writing process itself is super holistic, so what works for me may not work for you,, let's get into it !

personally, writing involves a lot of trial and error. trying stuff out, seeing what resonates with me, implementing those elements into my writing...rinse and repeat, basically. sometimes, finding the words i want to use is hard; i've been stuck in ruts where i'm only able to jot down a phrase or two. at the same time, that's something to be proud of because hey, you created something! creating anything in the first place is big!! having ideas is big!!! it's good to have some grace for yourself as you write. roadblocks may arise, but try not to get discouraged by them. they're very real and normal

outlining an idea is a great way to get started. there's no pressure to write anything outstanding, so this generally helps me just get everything i want to write down on a page. from there, i may flesh out more parts of the story that i'm excited about. the "right" words don't need to come out at this time. for example, here's an excerpt of my outline for ticket to nowhere:

as you can see, it's extremely far from perfect (it's...really bad, actually), but it was a good start! my outlines are always informal as that is what flows the easiest

talking to someone about my ideas also helps get me motivated to write them. my dms are always open to anyone who would find that helpful!

as i write, i often search around for words that may lend itself well to the Vibes™. onelook thesaurus is great. it can help you find words that relate to others, as well as words that are on the tip of your tongue but can't seem to remember. a general thesaurus has also helped me out a bunch because i like using fancy words for absolutely no reason

in all honesty, the atmospheres of my fics often stem from my media consumption...music is a huge source of inspiration for me, as are books, tv shows, and movies. i often find that books help me try out new writing styles and play around with my voice. for example, after i read bunny by mona awad (insane book btw, totally recommend), i tried including a lot of imagery in ticket to nowhere !! in terms of music, i like to make playlists and listen to it while i write ^^ it helps me get into the zone for sure

the fact that i get to share my ideas and not keep them locked away in the dark basement of my google drive is probably my biggest motivator!! i'm creating things!!! i get to share them!!!! art is wonderful!!!!! it doesn't matter if it's a short drabble or a 100k word multi-chapter fic, every piece of writing that you create is something to be proud of :) it's also important to note that i have taken longgg breaks from writing throughout my time on this blog (like. upwards of six months at a time throughout 2021-22), so stepping away from an idea, even if it is for a few minutes, a few hours, a few months, etc., may help in regrouping and finding inspiration again !!

i think this is kind of a mess, but i hope it helps,,, i'm always here if you need any advice ^^

#pls lmk if i did not answer ur question bc i will try again #gravytr4in asks #asks

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the-silver-peahen-residence · 6 months

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||A Naughty invitation||

Hi there sweeties, Peahen mom is here with another drabble request. So shall we dive into this one and see how this one goes hmm? :3

||Drabble summary||

Insomniac!Spider-man was just finishing up a big mission taking out another villian threatening his home but he was able to stop them. The day was saved once more even before tonight for halloween. However, as he was resting at home, he got a invitation to a Halloween party. It seems pretty fun and decided to go but what awaits him there? Read to find out.

||Warning||

~Teasing and touching is present in this drabble

~Heavy Nsfw is present in this drabble (If your under 18+ Please don't read this)

~Rough overstimulation is present

~Group sex is present in this drabble

||Guests in this drabble||

Insomniac!Spider-man/Peter Parker is from the game series Insomniac Video Game: Marvel’s Spider-Man 1 and 2 and belongs to my beloved friend @within-the-resort

A bunch of horny excited vampires are also guests in this one too.

((Note: Their will be grammar mistakes and errors in this drabble as others have this warning. But like I state before, this is written for fun. So I hope you like it and my friend too. Enjoy))

Peter parker was not expecting a unknown invite tonight after returning home from another day as the hero. He only was just getting some food when getting the random invite. He was unsure about going at first and it looked like a pretty fancy Halloween party from how the invite looked.

"Hmmmm, maybe I need to get some air for once but for my own fun. Who knows? It could be fun." he looks to the invite to see it was tonight. Thinking for a moment as the sun goes down, he decided to go.

In a moment, he was swinging his way towards the destination of where he was going to this party. He saw that it was pretty out to some big warehouse but that was fine. It had to be a big party. Insomniac!spider-man keeps on swinging through the air before landing to see the place.

It was already decorated in Halloween stuff and it seems the party was already on going from the sounds inside. With a sigh, he lands to head to the warehouse door and smiled hoping this was worth it. Getting to the front, he sees it was slightly open but even noticed a note on there.

"Hmm?" he takes a look to see what it reads.

"Come on in, Spider~"

He blinks to read the small note and yet he shrugs with a chuckle and walks inside. To his surprise, it was full of other party goers to see everyone having fun or some taking when having fun. It seems like another fun Halloween party night.

In a moment, one male walks over but he smiled to see. "Hey, you made it. Welcome Mr. Insomniac!Spider-man. Welcome to the party." he smiled already looking to the hero but he rubs the back of his head to chuckle.

"You can just call me spider-man but thank you for the invite." he sees he was happy to have a new guest like the others who noticed blushing or some licking their lips seeing him.

"Though, why don't you go ahead and grab a drink and have some fun....." he said to hand some apple juice to him that Spider-man takes it and was having fun.

"Thank you, I'll do that." he said happy but saw that everyone was having fun. Even if that the hero didn't know that he was in a party full of horny vampires who wishes to please the hero after hearing so much about him.

They didn't want to scare him but they will get him relaxed seeing him being among the others. At first, Peter blinks by how many they are since this had to be a large party. He almost felt like he didn't fit in but they were all friendly so it couldn't be too bad. Unsure of what to do, he calmly chat with them, hoping to start some conversation. It didn't seem too bad that some even spoke to him welcoming him to the party and some even asking a few questions about him. Yeah, it seems it was just fine and he didn't mind this at all.

Seems the party was going on as normal so that was fine.

However, as he was speaking with another person, someone else was sneaking up behind him while showing a light of a tease from her eyes. He really was cute that other vampires were getting excited just looking at him.

"Yeah, you can say that. I just didn't expect this sort of party to be so big." he said but the other smiled already finding him precious.

"Well, my friend tends to invite the only ones he know but you are a guest of honor so don't worry about it. He wants everyone to have fun here in the party."

"Well, I'm having fun true so I thank him for that." he laughed drinking some more of his juice.

"Though, it's always nice to see a new face around here. But we are hoping you are enjoying yourself here." he saw Spider-man nod. He was having fun at the party and it was pretty fun too. The other was listening to Peter speak but noticed the female coming behind him. As he kept chatting with the guy, suddenly he squeaks when a woman hugs from behind and kisses the back of his neck.

"H..Huh?!? Mi..miss? What are you-" He looked shocked seeing the female kissing and nibbling his neck and shoulder that she hugs him gently.

"Sorry for the scare hun. You just look so cute.." she teased that Peter blinks to blush.

"I..I umm thank you...." he mutters but he looks ahead. "T..though, I don't mind the-a..ah..." he feels her pressing up against him leaving more kisses that the other male looks to him and touches his cheek.

"What's wrong Hero? Under the weather?" he teased now touching his cheek but saw that he was already flushed now. Even seeing him looking flushed again. He tries to speak but gasped feeling more kisses from the female and the guy touching his chest. He felt relaxed as both were teasing and touching him that some others noticed to get excited.

Seems like the real party can begin now......

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"W..Wait, wait wait! S..slow ahhhh d..down! Please slow down!!" Weak wet heated moans slips by Spider-man's lips feeling his body held by a few guests at this party but he finds out they were vampires. Horny hungry vampires that touched and pleased him.

Two were slamming their cocks into his hole or double teaming him while a female was kissing his neck and another squeezing his chest. He was making such cute noises as hearing the hero moaning so sweetly for them.

"Mmmmmm but you feel amazing..I can't stop my hips. Your just too good.." One said as the other nods chuckling.

"Even if we did, you wouldn't want us to stop do you? Your hole is so tight eating us both up.." He even sees the female move to let the vampire kiss his neck as she kisses him. Good thing the mask was up but not all the way off. They still find him precious but respected his secret so they kept it on. Just the suit is off. Spider-man was trying to speak or stop his moans but they only grew in volume feeling the vampire males slamming even harder into him.

"Ahhhh!! P..Please! Please s..spare mmmmmmm mmeeeeee..my body isn't nuggh use t..to such rough t..touches I.."

"We know but just savor it love..it feels good right? Your so drenched down here, your legs are shaking while trying to bounce on our thick hot cocks. Admit it, you love this. You love it so badly your crying in pleasure." he purred but suddenly bit his shoulder hearing Peter moan out loudly in lust.

"Say it. You love this..your craving for it...aren't you hero?" he coos near his ear only to hear Peter cry out throwing his head back feeling the vampires thrusting even harder. He twitched drooling from his spot being beaten that he moans with want.

"Ahhhhh Y..Yesssss..yes I l..love it. I love being..mmmmmm.....fucked. I love this f..feeling. It's s..so good..it's too good."he whines that the vampire chuckled to smile.

"That's it, hero. That's a good boy but since you been honest with us..we'll give you your fill." he said before he and the other vampire thrusts again so the two females move to let them pleasure the spider. Peter cries out again cumming a little but he moans out in heat loving the feeling.

"Ahhhhhh m..more! I need more, please give me more! I want more of you b..both!!" he begs bucking his hips back with each thrust that they were already shivering and feeling more and more dazed. This really was a crazy party but Peter didn't mind. Right now, his mind was heated up from the pleasure seeing every vampire either pleasuring themselves or wanting a turn.

He keeps screaming while bouncing his hips, feeling more aroused that it made him even feel his nipples bitten or pinched. Both vampires growl loving the heat from the hero but hearing his slutty tone was even more exciting.

He even sees two vampires walk over still stroking themselves but saw that Peter reaches to take their cocks and begins to stroke them. They hiss from the hot touch but Peter was still bucking on the other vampire's cocks wanting more. His mind was hazy in the pleasure but he only sucks one off and the other being stroked.

"He's seriously adorable.." one said.

"Yeah and t..too cute.." the other said groaning from his cock being sucked off.

"Now now, you both will have a chance....he's way too cute to stop but we have all night just to play~" Seeing the other vampires being aroused, they knew this was going to be one hell of a lustful party.

#IC #silver roses #Drabble/short or long stories #silver butterfly mun #peahen mom #the mansion owner #a naughty invitation #insomniac!spider-man/peter parter #within-the-resort #resort fantasy book #peahen writer

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