#but I don’t think I could move on until this is done

[moonstruckme]

Hey Mae, congrats on 7k!!!! <3 Could I get Remus with apple pie, 25) a cold cement floor against skin?

Thanks for your request!

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 551 words

You’re spread-eagled on the cement floor of James and Lily’s garage. You’re worried you have sweat stains under your armpits, but not worried enough to hide them close to your body. No, you need all the contact with the cool ground you can get. 

“Um.” You strain your neck to look in front of you, but it’s only Remus. “You okay?” 

You let your head drop back to the floor. “Yeah,” you sigh. “S’nice in here.” 

“It is ungodly warm out.” He grunts quietly as he sits beside you. “If Sirius had shown up before the afternoon, we could’ve been done and inside by now.” 

James had asked you all over to help plant their new garden as a surprise for Lily when she comes home from her parents’. Poor Lily has been wanting to do it ever since they’d bought a house with a backyard, but she was first too busy and now too pregnant to be kneeling on the ground under the sun for hours. You’re not even pregnant and you worry it’s killing you, so really you’re glad the worst of the labor is being done for her. 

“I sat down to drink my water,” you gesture with your chin to the half-emptied cup at your side, “but the floor felt so cool I decided to lie for a bit. It gets a good breeze in here, feel?” 

“I feel it,” Remus agrees. His own hair is stuck to his forehead with sweat, but he lifts a hand to move yours, brushing damp strands away from your face. You close your eyes and hope your sigh conveys the appropriate gratitude. 

“I’ll get up and help in a second,” you promise. 

“That’s alright. Take your time.” His voice is an amused hum. “I didn’t come to fetch you, only to check on you.” 

“Have I been gone long?” 

“You don’t know?” 

“Might’ve fallen asleep.” You’re beginning to sound slurred even now, the cool floor against your skin lulling you into a trancelike relaxation. “I didn’t realize quite how hot I was until I came in here. You know?” 

Remus’ hum is tinged with worry. “Yeah, I think so. Sit up and have some water for me, lovely?” 

You push yourself up with a heavy sigh, picking up your cup. You worry you’ve left slippery sweat spots on the floor. “I’m okay,” you reassure him. 

“That’s good.” He lifts the hair off your neck, holding it in one hand so the air cools your nape. “Maybe you can have another water, just to be safe. We’ll bring them for everyone on our way back out.” 

“That’s a good idea.” 

“Hello?” Sirius comes around from the back, peering at the two of you. “You’re just slacking off without me, are you? I didn’t know we were having a break.” 

“You had your break in the morning when we were here and you weren’t,” Remus reminds him. 

“Oh, James is all by himself out there now.” You force yourself up, your thighs sticking to the floor. “I’ll go help him.” 

“Just bring him back for some water,” Remus says after you. “We could all use a breather.” 

“I swear,” Sirius grouses, “if he hasn’t stocked his freezer full of ice pops to compensate us for all this, I’m not going back out.”

[hanafubukki]

Been thinking about a time travel au where you go back to the past and follow Lilia’s life. You always show up when he needs it most.

The amount of time you’re there could differ from hours to days and sometimes years (rarely), but you always disappear.

You didn’t age but Lilia did (time seems to work for you differently compared to him). Not only that, Lilia is the only one who can see you.

Some instances when you meet with Lilia includes:

The first time is when he’s been newly appointed as the Right General. He’s shocked to see you as you wonder about your whereabouts. He tries to question you, threatening violence if need be. The raucous brought other guards along but they couldn’t see you. Safe to say, he doesn’t live it down the next few decades. Meleanor teasing him that he must be nervous in his new position. You’re left questioning about your situation and how come only he could see you before you’re gone.

You join him during patrols sometimes. Keeping him company as he looks for the princess during her escapades.

Other times, you share a meal together (well, he eats and you two talk, and thank the Greats for that because his food looks questionable at best).

Sometimes, you show up during his trainings and you can’t help but wonder if the way he moves, giving emphasis to his muscles and length, is done purposely or not but you are not complaining at the beautiful view. What do they say? I hate to see you go but I love the view. And did you love it.

Another instance is when Lilia is about to be hit by a tank during his mission to deliver a message and look for Levan. Your shout has him escaping death but not without injury.

You keep him company on his track to Black Scale Mountains. Extra vigilant for any enemies while he’s holding the egg. The one to watch his back during the rare moments he would rest.

The days that were the toughest yet were the following months after Meleanor’s passing. It was also the time you felt the most frustrated and useless. Lilia during those times were desolate. Practically a vegetative state. It took you time and years of frustrations. Words heated and full of hurt on both sides. But you never let go of him nor he you.

You’re there when he’s on his mission to hatch Malleus. You’re there throughout his travels. Angry in his place when he’s treated with callousness. With worry when he collapses in fatigue. You dance with him in cold winter nights when all is quiet. Just you two and one else.

You’re there when Malleus hatches. Cries with Lilia at the little dragon, so stubborn and yet fiery for a newborn. You’re there when hair is burned and cotton candy is snuck in.

You’re there when peace talks are finalized and Silver is found. You’re there for diaper changes and late nights.

Until one day, you’re not there anymore.

At least not as a ghost, but as you. A person. Living and breathing. Someone everyone can see.

You’re in this world that is familiar but different in ways you are not used to.

Awkward and anxious as everyone stares at this new comer. You don’t know what to do or say.

But then…

“There you are sweetheart. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

I had to use that line 💞☺️😘🫶 how could I not? It was the perfect opportunity. 💚💚

[cheriladycl01]

Ghost - Oscar Piastri x UnknownDriver! Reader Part 7

Plot: Reader is the first female F1 driver of the century, however no-one knows that as you are a ghost on the grid. You started in 2022, coming in P12 in the championship. You get moved to Red Bull Racing in 2023 with the off year for Sergio Perez.

Warnings: Talk of reader taking anti-depressants etc.

Things were … awkward with Liam after that, you were actively trying to avoid him along with everyone else on the race weekend. You were in the car, driving round the formation lap and you really couldn’t be bothered. Your engineer wasn’t communicating with you, you didn’t even know what strategy you guys were going for.

“Y/N, just doesn’t seem with it today does she?” One of the commentators asks looking at you were basically chugging along. Anyone watching would have thought you were in a Williams not a RedBull.

“No Karun I think she’s had a bad weekend all round, with the team and qualifying it’s just not felt like anything’s gone the way she would like” Crofty sighs and all of a sudden Max’s car starts slowing down.

The pack was still quite tight so even though you were 17th it didn’t take long for you to drive past Max’s car, completely out of reflex you stick your middle finger up at him. If this was DNF which it looked like it would be with the smoke coming out the car you now had reason to push.

“And Max Verstappen is OUT. He’s retired from the 2024 Australia Grand Prix” Crofty shouts.

“And what’s this, tension at RedBull, was I seeing that right or did Y/N stick her middle finger up?” Karun says replaying you driving past and from a few angles you can definitely see your middle finger rise spite the gloves being thick.

“I believe she did, I wonder what this means down at RedBull because all of a sudden it’s like Y/N has woken up and she’s off racing. Don’t worry guys, she was just warming up” Crofty says as he watches you go tearing around the corner.

You were picking up pace and in 6 laps you’d got yourself up to P12. A whole new wave of adrenaline washed over you and you were bussing. Your mind was going insane, no time to drink, no time for mistake. This right here was going to be your drive.

You pitted, with your own strategy at the same time as race leader Carlos Sainz, your Red Bull pit stop was also much quicker than his meaning you were released before him. This was great as now he was behind you, you had time to make up.

You looked after your tyres, making sure you kept your corners nice and clean and not bumping any track edges.

You’d eventually gotten yourself up into 6th place, and overtaking Stroll to get into P5 was say, but the gap to Oscar seemed too far.

“Gap to the McLaren?” You asked over radio.

“Which one?” You hear and if you didn’t have a helmet on and everyone could see your facial expression right now they would be laughing.

“What you mean which one? The one in front of me!” You say and some rustling occurs before you get your answer. 2.4 seconds. It was doable with 12 laps left. You overtook him with 6 laps left.

“What a phenomenal overtake from Y/L/N on Piastri and she’s not stoping there as she’s redeeming RedBull for todays race and she’s making sure McLaren aren’t up on that podium today. She’s overtaken Lando Norris and with that Carlos Sainz wins the Australian Grand Prix, Charles Leclerc makes that a 1-2 for Ferrari and Y/N Y/L/N completes the podium, after starting P17 and proving that RedBull need to extend her contract” Crofty screams as the race concludes.

As you pulled up in the podium spot, you sat in the car for a minute a little frazzled from the pushing you’d just done.

It isn’t until Lando comes and taps your helmet lightly that you look up at him with a soft smile, not that he could see it. You pull yourself up out the car and Lando pulls you in for a hug, patting your back before walking off to get weighed. Charles and Carlos come up to you, big grins on their faces.

“You did incredible!” Charles compliments and pulls you in for a hug, you take your helmet and balaclava getting weighed straight away as they both pull you over. You look over your shoulder noticing that none of the Red Bull team are there. It’s a sea of red, which you expected but you thought at least your race engineer and trainer would come along.

Not a Red Bull uniform in sight.

You went up onto the podium alone, a half assed smile on your face and Charles and Carlos were too caught up in celebrating their 1-2 with the mechanic who came up with them to take the Team Award left you spraying open air. You took a chug from the bottle off the the left while Charles and Carlos celebrated before spraying the Ferrari team below, what caught your eye, was in the sea of a red, a blue ad white RB hat. Over a head of blonde hair it was the unmistakable sight of Liam Lawson who was grinning up at you and waving happily.

He’d come to celebrate your podium, he was in fact the only one there celebrating for you. You send I’m a nod, that to Liam, spoke more than 1000 words but he knew from you was just a ‘thank you’ gesture.

You left Australia a little disheartened with the team, not having the energy to get into an argument with the team, Christian or Max. You ended up going back to the UK and staying with your parents for a while.

The worst thing about it all? No-one but Liam had reached out to you after the race. You’d even expected Lando to send you another congrats but no-one messaged you.

You felt so alone and you did the dumbest thing you think you’ve ever done and you went live on instagram. You were sat at your work desk in your spare bedroom in your parents house.

“Hey guys!” You try smile, but it comes out half arsed. Your team hoodie is pulled up over your head, covering your messy and unwashed hair.

“Why have I gone live? Erm, I’m not really too sure, I just come home to my parents and they’ve both gone to work so I’m kind of alone” you answer softly.

“Yeah, so I guess you guys can just hang with me? Ask me some questions, yeah I’d like that” you smile and you notice a comment that kind of shocks you.

“You haven’t seemed happy at all this year? What’s been going on?” You read and sigh.

“Don’t know just been a tough season, but it doesn’t matter we’ve had good results” you explain and loads of people start saying they want ghost back.

“Yeah, sometimes I want ghost back too guys” you sadly laugh, looking down before wiping across your mouth with he cuff of your sleeve.

“Room Tour? I can do that, there isn’t much here because this is y childhood bedroom guys so you can’t laugh at any of the stuff in here okay?” You say, happy that they’ve started to talk about normal topics again. You start to show them round your old room, showing the double bed, with the motorsport posters to the left, everyone in chat laughing over your Jenson Button poster. What you didn’t notice was your medical tube of anti-depressants on the side that got in shot as you were showing an old Grand Tour magazine you had.

‘Pills? Girlie you okay?’

‘Damn is she doping?’

‘Nah she got them meds, love a healthy girlie’

‘Bro no wonder both her and Lando get on so well’

Once you see the comments roll in you try to act as natural as possible but its like people know that your actively avoiding stuff about the pills.

“Okay guys I think that’s all I have time for today. But… I’ll see you next race weekend in Japan.

You got into bed after that curling up, overthinking how you could be so stupid as to not put them away and show them on livestream, while another man was just as shocked as the rest of the livestream viewers.

“Did you know?” Oscar messaged Lando immediately after he checked twitter and TikTok seeing people dig too far into your personal life by zooming in and blowing up the picture of the orange bottle to see the name of the meds.

Sertraline

After a quick google he knew what they were used for.

“No mate and I’m just as worried as you are” Lando replied and now Oscar couldn’t help but feel like he was all to blame for this. Everyone thought he was so calm and mature on track, but with you and the situation you guys faced he was anything but that and he regretted everything he said to you.

But he knew he wasn’t the only thing causing this, you were stronger than that, which is why he needed Lando’s help.

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[judebellswife]

Full Name Frenzy

— pairing • dad!jude bellingham x mom!reader

— summary • You, Jude Bellingham’s fun-loving girlfriend, team up with his entire family to pull off a hilarious TikTok prank where you call him by his full name in front of everyone. The plan is perfect: everyone’s in on the joke, except Jude. His adorable daughter, Rosie, steals the show with her hilarious reaction, turning the prank into a memorable family moment filled with love and laughter.

— warnings • Fluff overload, light teasing, adorable family dynamics, and lots of banter.

— wanna talk or send request • to charlotte

It was a calm, sunny Sunday afternoon at the Bellingham family house—one of those rare lazy days when everyone could simply relax and enjoy each other's company. The smell of a home-cooked lunch lingered in the air as the house buzzed with light conversation and the occasional burst of laughter. It was a perfect family day, but for you, it was the perfect setup for a prank you had been planning for days.

As you sat on the living room couch with your boyfriend, Jude Bellingham, and your three-year-old daughter Rosie, you were practically giddy with excitement. The idea had started as a harmless joke when you stumbled upon a viral TikTok trend. It was simple: call your partner by their full name and capture their reaction. But knowing Jude’s playful personality and the fact that he was surrounded by his family—his parents Denise and Mark, and his younger brother Jobe—you couldn’t resist going all in.

It was about time to pull off the prank, but not without some help from Jude’s family.

The night before, after Jude had gone to bed, you had shared your plan with the rest of the family, gathering them in the kitchen for a secret discussion.

“So, I’ve got a prank in mind,” you whispered with a grin, glancing over your shoulder to make sure Jude wasn’t anywhere near. “And I need all of you to help me pull it off.”

Denise and Mark immediately perked up. Denise smiled warmly as she leaned against the counter, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “Oh, I love a good prank. What are we doing?”

You explained the viral TikTok trend and how you planned to call Jude by his full name—Jude Victor William Bellingham—in front of everyone. The key to the prank was keeping a straight face and making Jude think he was in some serious trouble, even though he hadn’t done anything wrong.

Mark chuckled, already seeing how Jude might react. “You know he’s going to be confused as hell. He never hears his full name unless it’s something serious.”

Denise nodded enthusiastically, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “And he hasn’t been called that since he was a little boy. I’m in.”

Jobe, who had been listening while casually scrolling through his phone, suddenly grinned. “Wait, you want us all to act like Jude’s in trouble? Oh, I’m so in for this. I’ll make it dramatic.”

You laughed, already imagining Jobe hamming it up and making Jude’s confusion even worse. “Exactly! He won’t know what hit him. I’m going to start it off casually, and then we’ll see where it goes from there.”

Denise giggled like a schoolgirl. “I can’t wait to see his face.”

“And don’t worry,” you added with a wink. “Rosie will have the final word. She’s going to unknowingly seal the deal.”

Mark laughed and nodded approvingly. “You’re using our granddaughter as the secret weapon. Smart move.”

The plan was set. You all knew your roles. Now, all you had to do was wait until tomorrow.

The next day, everything felt perfect. The family had gathered in the living room after a hearty lunch. Jude, unaware of what was coming, was lounging comfortably on the couch next to you, scrolling through Netflix and mindlessly suggesting shows to watch.

Your daughter, Rosie, was sitting on the floor, her tiny fingers wrapped around the plastic handles of her dolls as she hummed happily to herself. Jude’s parents, Denise and Mark, sat across the room in armchairs, chatting softly, while Jobe sprawled out on the other couch, pretending to be deep into his phone, but really waiting for his moment to strike.

You caught Denise’s eye from across the room, and she gave you a small, conspiratorial nod. It was time.

You leaned back against the cushions, acting as casual as you could, before dropping the bomb. “Jude Victor William Bellingham,” you said, your voice carrying just enough weight to suggest seriousness, but not too much to make it sound fake.

Jude’s body froze. He turned slowly to look at you, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. “Wait... what?” he said, blinking at you as if you had just said something in a foreign language.

You stared back at him, keeping your face completely neutral. “You heard me,” you said with a deadpan expression. “Jude Victor William Bellingham.”

The room fell silent. Denise lowered her cup of tea slowly, her eyes widening in what could only be described as mock concern. Mark raised an eyebrow from behind his newspaper, peeking over the top like he was waiting for some kind of explanation. Even Jobe, who had been doing his best to act oblivious, now sat up straighter, his mouth open in exaggerated shock.

“Bro,” Jobe muttered, shaking his head dramatically. “Not the full name. You’re in deep now.”

Jude looked around the room, his expression one of total confusion. “What the hell is going on? Why are you using my full name like that?”

Denise, ever the supportive mom, chimed in softly, her voice laced with concern. “Sweetheart, what did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Jude exclaimed, laughing nervously, but still visibly unsettled by the sudden use of his full name. “Why is everyone acting like I’ve committed some crime?”

You tried your hardest to maintain your composure, but it was difficult. Jude’s face was a mix of disbelief, nervousness, and slight panic, like he was trying to figure out if there was some major mistake he didn’t remember making.

Jobe, of course, leaned into the drama, shaking his head slowly. “Nah, bro, when they drop your full name like that, it’s over. You’ve done something. Just admit it now and save yourself.”

Jude looked genuinely baffled now, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “But I haven’t done anything! I swear!”

You kept your serious expression, though inside you were practically bursting with laughter. “Jude Victor William Bellingham,” you repeated, drawing out each syllable for extra effect. “I can’t believe you don’t know what you’ve done.”

Jude threw his hands up in the air, looking helplessly around the room. “I’m telling you, I’ve got no idea! Mum, Dad, help me out here!”

Denise shrugged, her lips pressed together as if she were trying hard not to laugh. “I don’t know, Jude. She used your full name. You must have done something.”

At this point, Mark lowered his newspaper fully, folding it on his lap as he gave Jude a sympathetic look. “Son, full names are no joke. Maybe it’s time to come clean.”

Jude groaned, still laughing but now visibly confused and stressed. “But there’s nothing to come clean about! You’re all ganging up on me for no reason!”

That’s when Rosie, who had been mostly absorbed in her dolls, suddenly looked up. Her big brown eyes, wide and full of innocence, locked onto her father. She paused for a moment, processing the serious tone everyone had adopted, before deciding it was time for her input.

In the sweetest, most innocent voice, she pointed a tiny finger at Jude and said, “Oooooh, Dada, you’re in soooo much trouble.”

That was it. The room erupted into chaos. Jobe doubled over, clutching his stomach as he let out a loud laugh. Denise was wiping tears of laughter from her eyes, while Mark chuckled deeply, unable to contain himself. You couldn’t hold it in any longer either, bursting into giggles as Rosie’s serious tone tipped everyone over the edge.

Jude, now laughing but still utterly bewildered, pulled Rosie into his lap, covering her face with kisses as she squealed with delight. “You little traitor!” he teased, tickling her until she shrieked with laughter. “Even you’re turning against me?”

Rosie wiggled in his arms, still giggling as she buried her face into his chest. “Dada in trouble!” she squeaked, clearly enjoying the attention and the fact that she had somehow been part of the big prank.

You wiped the tears from your eyes, finally catching your breath. “You should’ve seen your face, Jude. You looked like you were trying to figure out if you’d broken the law or something!”

Jude shook his head, though his smile was wide and affectionate. “I genuinely thought I’d forgotten something major, like our anniversary or Rosie’s birthday or—I don’t even know!” He laughed, running a hand through his hair again. “You got me good, I’ll give you that.”

Denise, still recovering from her laughter, smiled warmly at you. “That was brilliant, darling. You’ve officially outdone yourself.”

Mark nodded in agreement. “I’ve never seen Jude look so lost in my life. Well done.”

Jobe, who had been leaning back on the couch with a smug grin, chimed in. “I’ll give you points for execution, but honestly, Rosie’s line took it to a whole new level. That was gold.”

Rosie, still sitting in Jude’s lap, seemed to sense that she had become the star of the show. She smiled proudly, looking up at her father with wide eyes. “I got you, Dada,” she said softly, and Jude’s heart melted on the spot.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in for a big hug. “Yeah, you did, little one. You’re too smart for your own good.”

You couldn’t help but feel a swell of warmth in your chest as you watched the scene unfold. What had started as a lighthearted prank had turned into one of those perfect family moments—filled with love, laughter, and the kind of joy that only comes from being surrounded by the people who matter most.

Jude leaned back, cradling Rosie against his chest, and gave you a playful look. “You realize this means war, right? There’s no way I’m letting you get away with this.”

You raised an eyebrow, grinning. “Oh, I’m counting on it.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Well, if you think you’re getting away with pranks this easily, you’re in for a surprise.”

Mark, who had returned to his newspaper, chuckled quietly. “Careful, son. She’s got Rosie on her side. You don’t stand a chance.”

Jobe snickered. “Yeah, man. You’re outnumbered.”

Denise, always the peacemaker, leaned forward and patted Jude’s knee. “Well, at least now you know what it feels like to be on the receiving end of a prank. I’d say it builds character.”

Jude groaned dramatically but squeezed Rosie a little tighter, his playful eyes never leaving yours. “I guess this is what I get for falling in love with a prankster.”

You leaned in closer, your voice soft but teasing. “And don’t forget, I’ve got the ultimate prank partner right here.” You gestured toward Rosie, who had already snuggled into Jude’s chest, her tiny hand gripping his shirt as she started to doze off after all the excitement.

Jude smiled, his eyes twinkling with affection. “Yeah, yeah. I guess if it’s you two, I can handle a little trouble.”

As the afternoon sun streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the cozy living room, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for the simple joys of family life. The prank had been a success, sure, but more than that, it was moments like these—filled with love, laughter, and the people you loved most—that made everything feel just right.

And as you snuggled up next to Jude, Rosie sound asleep in his arms, you knew that no matter what, these were the moments that would stick with you forever.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mission Control 14

Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Captain Hydra

Summary: a man marches into your life on a mission

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You finish hanging the clothes from the rack. You stir the fire so it burns a little better then stand back. You linger in its warmth. Now that you’re done, you don’t know what to do with yourself. Especially with him around. 

You bring your hands up to your chest and clasp them. You peek over at him. His eyes open as if he can sense you. You flinch and nod. 

“Will take a while to dry but I think I got everything,” you say. 

His gaze drifts to the rack. He narrows his eyes. You hope he doesn’t mind you touching his stuff. 

He raises a hand and gestures you to come closer. You try not to betray your hesitation as you cross the room. You stop right by the couch. 

“Do you want me to sit?” You point beside him. 

He doesn’t offer any response, not even a blink. You turn to sit and he catches your hips. He guides you before him and draws you back sit in his lap. You wiggle in surprise but let him draw you in. 

He hooks his arms around you and takes your hand in his. You’re rigid with tension. He feels along your knuckles and fingers, turning your palms up to trace the lines. You brace yourself as he rests his chin on your shoulder to watch his exploration of your hands. 

You curl your fingers to brush his rough skin and he winces. The veins in his hands bulge then he lays his hands flat, showing his palms as he rests his knuckles on your thighs. You gingerly trace the thick lines and find another scar along his wrist, jagged and thick. 

He drags a hand up your leg and wraps his arm around your middle. He moves you with him. You let him. He angles to recline across the couch with you over him. He shifts you to nestle you on your side, right against the cushions. He clings to your hand and brings it up to his chest. He lays it there, holding it firmly to his heartbeat. Your own is beating furiously. 

You rest your head on his shoulder and stare at the drying rack. The crackle of the fire underlines the silence, the winds whistling outside the windows, the night rising in shadows. Exhaustion descends on you and you slacken into him.  

You plummet into sleep. Your head thrums from the depths of you unsconscious and you forget all fears waking. There is only the black satin walls and the rippling glimmers of existence. 

You wake alone. Confused in the moment before your vision clears. The planks across the wall bring you back to reality. Your heart rents as the brief recollection of your former life dissolves. You always thought you wouldn't miss that old apartment once you were out but you could never imagine this. 

You sit up and listen to the cabin groan. You hear nothing but the natural creaking of the frame. You look over at the fireplace as it hazes lowly in a cluster of ember. 

The drying rack is gone and the clothes are folded neatly on the chair. Only the ones he brought you, not his. You stand and shuffle into the kitchen. Not there. Not in the bedroom or bathroom either. 

He's gone. 

You wonder if he went off with his shield and body armour. The thought makes you shiver. You return to the front room and add a log to the fire. 

Restless, you pace, in dread of what happens next. You don't know what will and that'd scarier than any inevitability. You walk in circles until your dizzy.  

When you still yourself, you're standing by the metal door. You stare at it. Then you touch it. It's thick and heavy. The reinforced barrier stands out starkly against the rustic and worn cabin walls. 

You grab the handle. It turns. Almost too easily. You pull. Jarred in surprise of how it opens without resistance. 

The blustering dregs of late autumn blow through you. You stare off into the dark trees. An open door but no where to go. 

You stay there until your burns ache with the cold. You're not brave or strong. You close the door and retreat into helplessness. Your head and stomach hurt. 

You go into the kitchen to fill the metal cup with filter water. You sit by the fire and sip. And wait. He had taken every decision away and in this you have as much choice. 

Wait and he'll be back. Wait and see what he does next. 

Time is hard guage within the soulless cabin. When the door opens, you’re as you have been. The fire is dead. You just didn’t bother adding more as the flames turned to cinder. 

His footsteps pound the floor in his neverending march through the world. There’s more weight added to the worn board. You sense him behind you. He moves around your perch on the floor. He rebuilds the fire and turns to you. 

You look up at him dully. He steps past you and comes back with a bag. A bright red reusable one. In this place, it’s a sliver of the outside world that feels so strange. He puts it before you and stands straight, hands on his hips. 

You sniff and bring yourself to sit on your heels. You lean to see inside the bag. You pull out the loaf of bread. Thick cut and whole wheat with seeds on the crust. You sift around and find a basket of veggies and fruit beneath the eggs and milk. You peer up at him. It’s hard to fathom the effort behind his haul. 

He bends and takes the bag. He leaves it in the kitchen and once more returns. He grabs another bag from behind the couch. You recognise the logo on it. Inside, a tea pot and matching cup and a variety of pack of loose leaf. It’s from your shop. 

Your lip trembles and you bite down. It’s a relic of what was. Even if there was escape, there’s no way back. 

You push the bag away and fall back on your ass. You bend your knees up and lay your head on crossed arms. Your tears leak out and wrack your body. He stands above you. You flinch and whimper as he touches your shoulder. 

You tear away and push yourself across the floor. You turn to look up at him, “why won’t you say something? Why? Why am I here? Why are you torturing me?” 

His brows rise and his cheek ticks. His lips curve downward and his eyes fall. He twists on his foot and walks away without a word. You sigh. 

“Fine, go. If you can’t tell me what the hell is going on, I don’t want you near me.” 

You turn your back to him and hunch again as another fit falls over you. All control is gone. Anger, fear, hurt, confusion. You can’t keep it inside any longer. And why should you? 

[ohsc]

requested by @prentissluvr | basic but completely adorable is sam trying to do his little girl's hair with his big hands and she's so small and he's like argh why is this so difficult T_T but he's trying so hard and he's so concentrated until she gets squirmy and he has to give up and do pigtails before she gets annoyed LOL

tysm for the request sweetheart this was SO soft to write i love your brain so so much <3 | juno verse, single dad sam winchester x fem!reader, 1.2k, fluff, pining, not proof read, requests only open for juno fics

“Like Fawn, daddy.” Juno told him, sat with her legs crossed on the bathroom counter, looking up at him through the mirror as she messed with the barbie she had held in her hands.

“Like who?” Sam asked, frowning in confusion as he brushed through her hair as gently as he could. Since she’d woken up that morning — and in turn woke him up by climbing into his bed and tugging on his hair — she’d insisted that she needed to look pretty for when Y/N visited. She was already dressed in one of her pretty dresses, a puffy blue thing covered in flowers. It was a little big for her, he’d had to roll up the sleeves, but there was no convincing her to wait until she’d had a growth spurt to wear it. On top of the dress, she wanted her hair to look pretty, too.

It was getting a little long, Sam knew that. They’d been living paycheck to paycheck for the past few weeks, he hadn’t had the money or the time to go and get it cut, and he was not going to attempt to do it himself.

“Fawn,” she scowled at him through the mirror like he was stupid. “Fairy. She likes Tink.”

Ah, the fairies. A week ago she’d decided that she was too big for princess and she liked fairies instead. The idea of her getting too big for anything made his chest squeeze uncomfortably with the idea that his baby was getting older. He could remember when she could fit comfortably in the palm of one hand.

“I thought you wanted a braid, Junebug.”

“Mhm.”

“Fawn has a braid?”

“Yes.” She scowled again and he almost laughed at how cranky she got sometimes.

“Sorry, baby, I forgot,” he leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “You want one or two?”

She held up two fingers before she went back to playing with her barbie.

Sam honestly thought it would be easy. He could kind of remember how Jess used to braid hers — though he tried not to think of her much anymore — and since Juno had less hair it seemed easier.

It took him five minutes to even part her hair as she kept moving around, and by the time he had a section in his hands strands kept slipping out of his fingers. His hands felt clunky, eyebrows scrunched in concentration as he tried to braid the three strands.

“Daddy,” she’d started squirming, and he bit his tongue to stop himself from complaining when she moved her head and he dropped one of the strands, the entire braid falling loose. “Done?”

He let out a breath through his nose. It wasn’t her fault, he usually just put her hair in a ponytail and tied a bow around it. “Not done, sit still please.”

He combed out the braid with his fingers and tried again, honestly a little irritated at how difficult it was.

She moved again and he tried to lean forwards as she did so not to pull her hair, but just ended up braiding the wrong strand of hair through.

“Juno, please,” he breathed out, letting go of her hair to shift her back in place on the counter. “You need to stop moving sweetheart.”

“Wanna play.” She whined, and when he glanced up at the time he sighed. He wanted to clean up a little and get some food going for when Y/N got there, and time was getting a little tight.

“Okay, alright Junie,” he leaned down and kissed her head, gave her sides a gentle squeeze as he looked back at her in the mirror. “Why don’t I just do some pigtails, hm?” She pouted and his heart aches. “It’s quick, and you can go play until lunch, okay?”

She nodded, and he kissed her head again with an apology before he brushed her hair and tied them into pigtails, securing two blue bows into her hair in the hopes that she’d find it just as pretty. It was a win when it earned him a sloppy kiss on the cheek as he lifted her up from the counter to get her down.

One of the bows was missing by the time Y/N got there.

She’d used the spare key to get in — she’d been doing that more recently, and he tried not to think about how it made his heart thump a little harder — and he’d been at the stove stirring the macaroni he was cooking, so he didn’t have time to stop Juno from running straight into her legs as she walked in.

“Hey princess!” Her voice was cheery despite almost getting knocked off of her feet, and Sam could hear his daughter giggling down the hall as he made sure the water wouldn’t bubble over before stepping out of the kitchen and into the hall. She had Juno on her hip, not even out of her coat yet, little arms tight around her neck with a tight hug. The sight made his heart swell, a dopey little smile on his face as he watched them for a moment.

“Are you all dressed up for me, Junie?” She cooed, hugged her to her chest, and beamed at Sam when she looked up and met his eyes.

His poor heart couldn’t take much more.

“Yes, s’my pretty dress,” Juno informed, chubby cheeks and a toothy smile. “Daddy did my hair wrong.”

He rolled his eyes. “Tattle-tale.” He scoffed, walking over to take his daughter into his own arms so Y/N could shrug her coat off. Juno didn’t seem to mind, just didn’t take her eyes off of the other.

“He did? Oh no,” she hung her coat up on the hook, and was smiling in far too much entertainment when she turned back around and faced them. “What did he do wrong? Is it the missing bow?”

“Want Fawn hair.”

Sam mouthed braids over the top of her head at her look of confusion.

“Ah, I see,” she reached out and gently combed her fingers through the ends of Juno’s pigtails. “Well, do you wanna know a secret, Junie?”

Juno nodded enthusiastically, and Sam almost dropped her when she leaned forwards fast to hear her.

“I know how to do braids,” she told her as if it was a secret, leaned down a little to be at her level. “Maybe you could go and get me your hairbrush and some pretty bows and I can do them for you, hm?”

“Okay!” Juno immediately started squirming and Sam laughed as he put her down, watched her run down the hall and into her bedroom, before he turned back to face Y/N.

“Thanks,” he breathed out a little laugh, a hand pushing through his hair. “Wasn’t gonna hear the end of that one.”

She giggled, smiled so pretty he thought his heart might give out. “Figured as much,” she stepped forwards and leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek, and he was definitely on the road towards a heart attack. “Maybe after lunch I could teach you how to do it? If she sits still for long enough.”

Sam practically grinned as he nodded. “Yeah, thanks.”

Oh he was so in danger.

[ellecdc]

Rosier Twin Microfic

CW: untrue anatomy and physiology of earth worms, cruelty to earth worms, the general oddities that are the Rosier twins

Evan was exploring the grounds of the manor in search of his sister under the direction of their mother.

He found he didn’t mind all that much; the green of the trees and grass, the blue of the sky, and the pinks and reds of the flowers in the garden were all a welcome reprieve from the sad, dull grey and beige that ‘decorated’ the inside of their familial home.

That is, he hadn’t minded until he found himself sinking up to nearly his knees in loose soil as Pandora materialized from behind some shrubs.

“Evan! What have you done?” She chastised, not looking at her brother but rather where the bottom half of his legs had disappeared.

“What have I done?” Evan shot back incredulously. “What the hells is this?”

Pandora simply let out a displeased huff as she dropped her gardening spade and moved to help pull her brother out of the earth.

“You’re standing on my worms.” She admonished as he finally stepped onto solid ground, sure enough brushing loose soil and earth worms from his professionally tailored trousers and dragon-hide boots.

“What in Salazar’s name are you doing with a colony of earth worms?” He all but sneered at his sister who barely spared him a glance, though her face read ‘I can’t believe you asked such a ridiculous question’.

“The worms are good for the soil.” Pandora responded simply. “After the trouble the Honking Daffodils had with the gnome infestation, I figured they could use all the help they could get.”

Evan turned to survey the space; the worms did seem to be attempting to make their way towards the vegetation, though he really thought they’d be more effective coming from both sides of the plant.

“You ought to put some to the right of the plants, too, Panda.”

“I could only find fifty on the grounds, I don’t want to separate them from their family members.”

Evan fought the urge to roll his eyes as he bent down and dug a worm from the loose soil. “You know that you can cut them in half, right? Then you’d have twice as many and can establish colonies on either side.”

The expression on Pandora’s face told Evan she was warring with the side of her that hated the idea of chopping up living beings and the side of her that valued experimentation.

With one look in her brothers direction, Evan knew the decision she’d come to in her mind.

“I…don’t think I can cut the worms, Ev.”

So, that’s how both Evan and Pandora found themselves being scolded by their mother for being late for dinner (and rather filthy) as Evan spent the rest of the late afternoon cutting up earth worms for his twin sister.

[quietstormxr]

My first post out to the Tumblr universe. Here’s some angst between you and Xaden.

Let me know what y’all think! And if there should be a part 2!

The green dragon, but not your green dragon, have taken residence inside your heart and mind. Never before had you felt threatened in your relationship; however, something seemed to change the minute Violet Sorrengail entered the quadrant. Not only did your friends seem distracted by the girl, but you could feel him peeling away little by little.

As days and months wore on, it seemed that the interest that peaked in him as he withdrew from interest in you. At first, you figured it was the stress of the deal with her mother, then you realized that wasn’t it at all. He stopped visiting. He stopped paying attention to you. He stopped seemingly seeing you at all. To protect yourself, you began to pull away. You thought he would notice, but once threshing passed, it all seemed to be over. Xaden told you that he was just figuring things out due to the mating bond between Sgaeyl and Tairn and his life now being tethered to Violet’s, but it seemed there were more to things.

At that point, you had decided you’d pull back from everyone and see what changed. One night in December, you decided some fresh air was needed and that’s when your heart broke. There he was kissing her. His hands in her hair and pushing her up against a wall. You couldn’t believe the brokenness you felt. He couldn’t even come to you first and end things before moving on. The feelings of worthlessness and nothingness were enveloping you again. Watching the person that had driven those feelings from you drove the despair in deep and fast. The thought that the man you had picked you up from broken pieces could toss you aside so fast was the most heartbreaking thing you had ever experienced. From there on you knew that there was no going back, your relationship was done, and you were done pretending.

The next day, you couldn’t even look anyone in the eye. At breakfast Bodhi and Garrick both asked if you were ok, but you brushed them off and went to class. During class, Eya and Imogen tried to talk, but you just ignored them. Even though you weren’t a marked one, most all your friends were. You knew that since Xaden would never be abandoned, you would now be pushing them all away as well.

Being that Xaden seemed always busy with leadership, the revolution, and now Violet, it seemed you didn’t even have to have “the talk”. At least that is what you were hoping, until one day in January, he showed up at your door. You opened it a crack to see him standing there looking at you expectantly.

“I have nothing to say to you, Xaden.” You told him with a cold certainty.

He looked at you questioningly. You noticed the fight in his eyes, the only place he ever showed his emotions.

“I don’t want to fight with you about this, us, or whatever we were to each other. I know you’ve moved on and I would appreciate it if you would let me do the same.” You said. With that, you shut the door on him and slammed your face in your pillow.

‘It’s ok to protect your heart, Stormy One. I could always maim him in a place that would not anger Sgaeyl.” Cedri states.

‘Thanks for the offer, Cedri, but I’m not sure that would help.’

You were lucky that your dragon, though being a curmudgeon at times, always knew when to push you or comfort. Cedri was always there to bolster you in times of doubt and fear.

The next day, things seemed to change. Imogen, Eya, and even Soleil seemed to distance themselves from you. You didn’t mind, it seemed to make the process of moving on to pick up the pieces easier. It only seemed that they boys didn’t get the memo.

It was obvious that Xaden must have said something, as Garrick seemed to keep staring at you from the leadership table at breakfast. And it was on the way out from breakfast that Bodhi came up to you and asked if he could walk you to class. Due to the overwhelming exhaustion of your own feelings, you just said ok and let him walk you in silence. The most unusual part of the day came when Liam came up to you during dinner and asked if he could sit with you and your squad.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on guard duty, Mairi?” you asked with a look of pure confusion on your face.

“Well, yes. But I was hoping that maybe I could convince you to sit at our table.” He looked with a sheepish grin.

“Thanks, Liam. I think I’ll have to pass on that one.” How could he think that you would want to be anywhere near the girl that took your world away?

He walked away seemingly saddened by your answer, but you just stared back at him in disbelief.

It didn’t make sense that now they all seemed to be interested in what you were doing. You knew that Xaden would have told them what happened, well Garrick at least. Garrick would’ve informed the others.

The next few weeks passed by uneventfully enough. Your world seemed to find a new rhythm now that you had distanced yourself from your marked friends. You started spending more time with your three other squad mates and the change didn’t go unnoticed.

“Not that I’m complaining, but why have you started hanging out with us so much?” asked Nico pointing around the table between himself, Kai, and Iona.

You shrugged your shoulders and said, “Is that not ok?”

“Of course, its ok!” Nico said. “We are all glad you are, but just really wanted to check that everything was alright. You seem to be shutting your other friends out.”

You let out a huff of a laugh and slowly shake your head. “Yeah, that happens when you find out someone cheated on you and then don’t come to you about it.”

Nico looks at you with eyes wide in surprise. Everyone knew that you were in a relationship of sorts, but no one knew who it was with.

“Well if we need to bury a body, you just have to say the words.”

And with that you break out into fits of laughter, the first in months and you can feel four pairs of eyes on your back.

As the weeks passed, you started to get into a new rhythm. You found new sparring partners, friends, and even went on a few dates. You didn’t miss the glances from the boys when they thought you weren’t looking. But the thing that you couldn’t understand was why Xaden would ever be looking.

You were in the middle of studying in the commons with Kai and felt his eyes before even meeting his gaze. The thing that surprised you most was the flash of sadness and, was that jealousy, that crossed his face. You shook your head knowing that you must have dreamt those looks and went back to your books. But that didn’t help the thoughts from swirling.

Why would he be sad? He seemed to have a shiny, new obsession, why would he care what you were doing?

‘Maybe things aren’t really what they seem.’ Cedri states.

‘That may be true, but how would I know when no one has said anything otherwise.’ You retort.

The next few days seemed to drag, but you found yourself feeling lighter than you had in a while. You started getting up for morning runs in the past few days and that seemed to help your mood improve. That was until a week later; you saw Bodhi standing at the wall out of the citadel on your way there for a run.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of this morning visit Bodhi?” you question.

“I just wanted to see if we could talk, maybe hang out later? Things have been weird lately between you and everyone and I just wanted to see what was going on.” He explains.

“Did someone put you up to this?”

“No.” He says resolutely with a furrow in his brow. “I just miss hanging out with you and talking. We’ve been friends since we entered this hellhole and I just want to continue that.”

“Fine, we can talk later. Want to meet down by the river after classes today? I could use some fresh air away from the quadrant.”

“Sure, I’ll see you down there.” He says and walks back towards the academic building.

‘If he tries to hurt you, I will make sure Cuir does not have a good evening.’

‘I don’t think that’s Bodhi’s plan, but I know you’ll be there to make sure.’

‘Of course, you do not think I would leave you with those humans after the hurt they’ve inflicted recently.’

‘I would never expect anything less.’

You can hear your dragon ‘harumph’ in a sigh at your confidence.

[badgers-and-cats]

Can you do a George Weasley smut with innocent reader?🥹

Such a good girl. (George Weasley x fem!reader)

Masterlist

18+ MDNI

AFAB reader

Warnings; fem reader. smut under the cut. Innocent reader. Oral (fem receiving. Mentions Masc receiving but doesn’t go into detail). Unprotected P in V (wrap it before you tap it!!!). Pet names; sweetheart, baby, princess, darling, good girl. Brief mention of breeding kink. Alludes to further smut

A/N: love an innocent reader fic, but lowkey struggled with the innocence part, this is my first time writing for an innocent reader… so apologies if it isn’t so good💕

“So wet for me already?” He smirks once you’re naked and he is face to face with your pussy. You blush, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks at his words. That is soon forgotten though, with the sensation of his wet lips kissing your pussy, and then your clit; until he is sloppily making out with your heat.

He alternates between licking your juices and fucking you with his tongue: becoming harder with every breathy moan that leaves your lips; swollen from your previous make out session. Oh how he was obsessed with you. He felt as if he had barely touched you, and here you were. Almost completely fucked out just from his tongue.

“George I’m so close… feels so good,” you moan softly, gently tugging at his hair. This only makes him work harder, eagerly wanting to taste your sweet juices. To feel them soak his mouth. And you do just that. He groans at the taste of your cum, it turning him on somehow even more than he already was.

He moves to now make out with your lips; earning a small moan from you, at the taste of yourself on his wet, swollen lips, something you never expected to get aroused by.

“Can you relax for me, sweetheart? Don’t wanna hurt you.” He asks, kissing your soft lips, as he moves his thumb to gently rub circles your throbbing clit. He can feel you’re relaxed - but without the prep work of his fingers, he worries.

You hadn’t heard him - your focus being on his thumb slowly moving against your bundle of nerves. Something you had never done yourself - too scared of getting it wrong. Of not doing it quite as well as he does.

Every time, he worried about hurting you. His precious girl. These are the moments the outside world will never get to witness. You, the innocent girl, with her legs spread for one of the Weasley twins; who is being so slow and so patient with her; without a hint of trickery in sight. Everything he says and does in these moments are just for her. His girl.

“Baby? Did you hear me? Wanna be inside you,” his mouth has now made its way to your neck; carefully placing kisses and bites all over. His hips involuntarily thrust forward; seeking out any kind of friction to ease his painfully hard erection.

“Mhm, yes George, I’m ready,” you relax under his touch as you speak. He will never get enough of you. The way you look up at him eagerly as you suck his cock, seeking his praise. The way you trusted him to be your first everything. The way you continue to trust him.

The one thing he will never get enough of is sinking his aching cock into your wet heat, feeling the warmth grip his length; inviting him in. It was like a drug. And he was addicted. If he didn’t control himself: he could cum there and then, filling you up nice and full. Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad idea, he thought, thinking of filling you up with his babies.

There were many things you did he couldn’t get enough of. The look on your face as he stretches you out only encourages him to move his hips, the moans leaving your mouth as he does somehow turn him on even more as he thrusts into your tight hole with the most perfect rhythm; one that he knows you love. He’d love to go faster and harder, but that can be saved for next time.

His thumb continues his assault on your clit, only now it’s much harder, your hips thrusting up slightly at the sensation- he just smirks at your eagerness.

“Mm Georgie… I think I’m gonna…” you moan, almost pathetically, as the knot in your stomach threatens to release. No matter how often you do this with George; no matter how many times he makes you cum, there’s something about saying it out loud that makes you feel somewhat shy. But he loves it.

“I’m close too baby… god you’re gripping me so much… cum for me princess…” he groans, his thrusts now becoming slower, yet slightly harder. With one final thrust; he cums, as he is balls deep inside you; painting your soft walls white. Your 2nd orgasm of the night comes at the same time, hitting you hard as your juices soak his balls and his sheets.

“Fuck… that’s it darling did so well for me, such a good girl for me. My good girl,” he groans, before pulling out gently, kissing your forehead and wrapping you up in his arms.

Oh how he was excited for next time. You have no idea what he has planned, but he is certain that you will enjoy it, no matter how much rougher it will be. Because you trust him.

[moonstruckme]

hi i lovelovelove your fics and i’m wondering if you are taking requests… if you could write a fic with steve and shy!reader who calls him a pet name or nickname for the first time ❤️

Thank you for requesting <3

Steve Harrington x shy!reader ♡ 710 words

Dew drops collect on your skin as you walk to Steve’s house. It’s a quiet morning, fog hanging in heavy clumps as birds call to each other through the haze. You hope Steve has coffee. 

You knock quietly. His footsteps banging down the stairs answer far louder. 

The door swings open to reveal your boyfriend with his toothbrush in his mouth, his hair all in disarray, and his clothes clearly only just thrown on. 

“Sorry,” he says in greeting, words garbled through a foam of toothpaste. “I thou I cou get ready in five min-us, bu—” Steve spits in the kitchen sink “—I couldn’t.” He gives you a sheepish smile. “You look really pretty.” 

Warmth kisses your cheeks. “Thanks, so do you,” you say earnestly. “I mean, you look nice. Your shirt’s on backwards, though.” 

Steve looks down at the tag poking up near his throat. “Oh, shit.” 

He rinses his mouth out with water from the tap, spitting again in the sink before setting his toothbrush down on the edge. When he pulls his arms inside to turn his shirt around, the process shows a sliver of abdomen that your eyes catch on before you drop them to the floor, flushing for real now. Steve combs his hair back with his fingers, walking around the counter to you.

“Hi,” he says, hand cupping the side of your neck as he gives you a spearmint-flavored kiss. “Coffee’s in the pot. Sorry I’m holding us up, I hope we don’t miss the sunrise because of me.” 

“That’s okay,” you say, though you hope you can still catch it. It’s all really just an excuse to spend time with Steve anyway. You move past him to the fridge, getting out the cream while he pours coffee into two thermoses to take with you. 

A piece of hair falls into his face as he looks down, and he swipes it back impatiently. It’s still pretty unruly from sleep; he clearly hasn’t had time this morning to give it the attention he likes to, and it warms your heart to think that he’d put that aside so you could get to go see the sunrise. It also makes you want to say to hell with the sunrise and comb your fingers through his hair until he’s happy with it. 

“I’m almost ready to go,” he swears. “I just had the worst sleep last night.” 

“Oh, really?” The areas under his eyes do look a little shadowy. The thought hooks your eyebrows upward. “I’m sorry, baby.” 

The word slips out of you so naturally, your voice bent and softened by sympathy, that for a moment you hope that Steve won’t notice. And for a moment, it seems like maybe he doesn’t. But then he sets the thermos down, dark brows twitching towards each other. He tilts his head to look at you. 

“Baby?” he asks, bordering on incredulous.

“Sorry,” you say automatically. You think your palms are sweating. 

“No, don’t be sorry.” Steve’s smile blooms slowly, better than any sunrise, and you can’t tell if he’s about to make fun of you. You think if he does you might have to cancel this whole thing. “It just surprised me. S’that something you wanna call me?” 

“I don’t know.” You can’t look at him. You use the coffee as an excuse, pulling your thermos toward you to start stirring in cream. When you’re done, you pass it over to Steve without glancing up. 

But he’s not having it. He sets the cream aside, slotting his fingers behind your ear with your cheek in the basin of his palm and tilting you towards him. He looks like he’s making fun of you, definitely.

Your heart hiccups.

“It just slipped out,” you confess. 

“Okay,” Steve laughs. “That’s okay, I liked it. Feel free to let it slip as many times as you want.” He slides his thumb along your skin, no doubt feeling its heat. His voice is sweet when he asks, “You about ready to go, baby?” 

You feel your forehead pinch painfully. “Don’t,” you plead. 

“I don’t know,” Steve says, though he lets you go to tend to his coffee, a small mercy. “I think you’ve really started something here. I could get used to this.”

[i-starcreamed]

Beggingggg for a Megatron (Transformers One) x kind male reader who looked up to him not as a friend but as a small crush. Megatron saw jt at first when he was D-16 and didn’t think much until when he declared to kill their leader (did not like him that I forgot his name) and tries to take advantage of the readers fondness towards him to make him join his side. The reader knows it’s wrong and declines which turns into a small argument about why the reader should join them..

THINKS OF SOME TOXIC TANGO OF LOVE AND LOYALTY WHERE ONE ISNT SURE—

MEGATRON X READER

Basically megop but with Y/N. You two are divorced YOU COULD HAVE BEEN SO MUCH MORE!! Also I don’t mention pronouns that often in my work but I’m tagging this as male reader :3

[cybertronian! male reader Angst AGAIN 😭 not that much though, you guys just argue a lil]

As D-16, he hadn’t thought much of your crush. He knew you as the mech who treated everyone with kindness, a trait he silently admired. You were almost an even softer version of Orion, gentle to a fault sometimes.

You were with them when you went to find the Primes, there, you uncovered the truth as they did. You watched as D-16's expression fell with every detail revealed about Sentinel and..everything he did.

Gesturing for him to follow you, you pulled him aside. He did so without hesitation—he knew you had no ill intent. Maybe his entire life had been a lie, but at least you were still there. As genuine as ever.

"I can’t believe…” he muttered, his voice strained. His optics moved across the ground, he had to blink rapidly to snap himself out of whatever thoughts he was having. You quickly placed a comforting servo on his shoulder, grounding him before he could spiral.

“D, look at me. I can’t believe it either,” you whispered, locking optics with him.

“We’re going to stop him…okay? I’m here with you.” You murmured. Was it a confession? Maybe so.

Your words hung in the air, heavy with hesitation. “I’ll follow you anywhere. We’ll get through this..together.”

D eyed you, his own voice faltering for a second.

“Yeah… yeah, okay.” He exvented, his optics again panning towards the ground as he let you comfort him. Despite the small flutter in his spark, the sudden goal to make Sentinel pay overrode any other emotion. He will pay.

When D-16 spiraled into Megatron, you were the first he sought out. His eyes were not the vibrant golden they used to be. You questioned him, to which he eagerly—almost desperately, held onto your shoulders in response.

“Y/N…listen to me. Do you trust me?”

“..I do trust you.”

“Then join me, come with me. I know how I’m going to make Sentinel pay for his lies. Unlike Orion's plan, I will make sure it gets done.”

You slightly shook your helm, “But D.. you two should be working together. Not split apart. I don’t want you doing anything uh.. extreme.”

His optics turned cold, narrowing in anger. “Extreme? You call my ideas extreme? Sentinel was the one that has been keeping us as slaves,” He hissed, inching towards you. “For years, for years, I thought we were doing the right thing. But no, everything was a lie. You, Y/N—you have to understand”

You watched in horror as Megatron killed Sentinel. He should have been satisfied now, but he wasn't. He called upon an army. Freedom fighters, but now they fought for a cause that no longer needed fighting. From his elevated position on the structure above, you locked optics.

His gaze flickered, just for a moment, as he took in the fear in your expression. Once, you looked up to him as someone you admired. Hell, you thought you loved him. Deep down, a part of you still did.

He’s still D-16, maybe. He must be, right?

You realized maybe you did have different ideals, different goals. To you, it should have ended when Sentinel was exposed. Then you had no option, perhaps after his death? You all would have rebuilt Cybertron together. Maybe even properly confess to D. Things just didn't go as planned in many ways.

But now, you could only watch as he descended the stairs toward you, his steps slow and deliberate.

You flinched, feeling his servo against the side of your helm. He stopped a couple inches away from you, leaning down, his voice a low hiss,

“Do you see it now, Y/N? That…I did that for you. For us.” His fingers traced the ridges of your helm, a caress that made your spark stutter in confusion. He was never, ever, this bold as D-16.

“I want you to join me. We can do this together.”

You hesitated, still trying to process how affectionate he was being with you. As much as you've dreamt of this, there was something off about it. D-16 was always soft, and casual about his demeanor. This Megatron was intense, his red optics burning into yours.

“Megs…I can’t.” You murmured. This was wrong. Very very wrong.

Megatron raised a brow, “You cannot?”

His servo shifted, cupping your chin and tilting your helm upward to meet his gaze. “Tell me something, Y/N. Are you a liar too?”

You furrowed your brow, “What? No, no, I haven’t lied to yo—“

“You said you’d follow me anywhere," He interrupted, "I need you to do that now.” He said in a softer tone, but you heard the hint of menace in his voice. It was an order, not a plead.

You took a deep intake, slowly stepping back from his grasp—his servo hung in the air for a moment before falling to his side.

“I don’t want to kill anyone, Megatron. I’m sorry, I can’t do this with you.” You said firmly, your voice steady. You had made up your mind.

His teeth clenched, frustration flaring in his optics as he stepped closer again, closing the distance between you two.

“Where is loyalty when you need it the most!? Where is it?! Tell me!” He exclaimed, his outburst making you take another step back.

Your optics flickered back to where Orion and your friends should be, then back at Megatron. “I want to be with you, Megs, I do. But this fight.. it’s over. Sentinel is dead.”

You stepped forward despite your frantic sparkbeat, your servos grasped onto his which were balled into fists.

“Come with me. We can help build Cybertron together, all of us. I need you to trust me.” You urged softly.

For a moment, you thought you had reached him. His optics softened, and his fists slowly unclenched, his gaze drifting to where your servos held his.

“I don’t want to rebuild Cybertron,”

He slowly scowled, his servos tightened around yours.

“I want to fix it.”

He turned away, leaving you standing in the dust and debris. You coughed, the air thick with smoke, watching him disappear into the distance with Primus knows how many High Guard fliers behind him.

You begin to wonder if you made the right choice. You wanted your D-16 back, but you couldn't bear the death and destruction that came along with Megatron.

As doubt crept in, you realized one terrible truth.

He had already won you over.

[brokenpieces-72]

Platform

Choo Choo Charles cod crossover | Navigation

You had finished the repairs and started trekking up the hill to your cabin. Tired and trying to keep your emotions straight. It was hard to take it so straight and forward.

When you reached the top you found the captain on the front porch. He was posted up, keeping a look out. You straightened seeing him. Military, no slacking. Someone was taking you seriously for once in a long time. You went over to him, leaning your gun against the wall of the building.

“Thank you.” You said.

“Well haven’t done anything yet.” Price pointed out. His body seemed to relax at the sight of you.

“You have. You believed me.” You said. “That’s something.”

The rain continued to pour, making sleep even more tempting. There was a question that had been repeating in your mind since the middle of your repairs.

“Did he… um… how…” you started but then hesitated. You didn't want to cry in front of him. Price waited letting you get the question out. “Uh… did… the body, where…”

“We moved him off the tracks, and buried him in branches.” Price admitted. You nodded and took some deep breaths, shifting from foot to foot.

“How is your wound?” He asked. You shrugged, and let out a choked “I don’t know” trying to avoid tears. Price could tell she’d been tearing herself apart trying to get help and sort out everything so she could destroy the thing. Your one ally had been lost and replaced with four strangers. Price could understand your plight.

“Sit down,” he said. You looked at him confused. “Sit, that’s an order.”

You sat down, and rolled up your pant leg for him. You winced as he unwrapped it and saw the stitches. Not bad for someone who was doing it free handed. Price retrieved some first aid supplies, taking time to clean it a bit. You winced and groaned a bit.

“Fuck.” You muttered, gritting your teeth.

“It’s just alcohol.” Price said.

“Still fucking hurts.” You pouted.

“Eugene ever serve?” Price asked. You nodded.

“I think so. Back at his cabin he had a couple medals. A purple heart, I think.” You said, while Price started to wrap the wound back up. Didn’t need a splint thankfully. “I should tell you, you’ve allied yourself with a problem.”

Price finished wrapping the wound. “Aligned myself with enemies before.”

“No I mean… I called for help but I didn’t tell you I’m public enemy number three basically. The cult, Warren and Charles are-“ you stopped talking as soon as you heard a train whistle, head snapping immediately to where it came from. Price stood up, getting you to your feet, while you continued to scan the treeline, another one sounding. The two of you got inside quick, and the rest of the guys were woken up, reaching for weapons.

“Get away from the door.” You instructed. “Close it!”

Kyle shut the back one, while Price got you to lean against the wall, and shut the front. You noticed Simon posting up at the window. His aim was on the scuttling locomotive, as it came closer and closer. “Don’t bother.”

Simon side eyed you but kept his aim. You said more quietly, “Seriously please don’t bother.”

Price debated ordering the shot to be taken or not, until Simon made his own decision. The shot was fired and right between the horrific gore framed white eyes of the demonic creature. It missed by an inch, and hit the eye. The creature scuttled around the house, loud with teeth gnashing and a wet chittering. Simon pulled back and avoided the sightline of the window. You limped to the middle of the room, reaching whatever bed was closest before sitting down. The monster’s steps seemed to shake the building, the spider legs almost pounding the hard earth. The men were tense while you bounced your good leg, hands clasped and muttering something. Everyone was still, guns at the ready, while you looked almost unbothered by the horror outside. They could make out wood scratching as well but it was minor. Like a dog pawing at a door. Thankfully the blood curdling noises distanced from the cabin, as Charles finally left them all in peace. The men kept alert.

“Soap, Check the window.” Price ordered. Johnny almost wanted to tell the captain to check himself. He pressed into the wall, watching out the window. Charles disappeared back into the tall misty trees, to where, none of them knew. When to return? If only he wouldn’t.

“It’s gone… Charles doesn’t break into houses for some reason. Part of why I’m still here.” You said, staring at your newly bandaged leg.

“How long has that thing been around here?” Kyle asked.

“Uhh…pffftt… a few months.” You guessed. “Came around the beginning of summer, my dad was one of the miners who found it but when he went to destroy the egg those cultist assholes decided he’d make a good offering.”

The room went silent again, thinking back to Eugene. This kid had lost not only their friend, but your father too. Price wasn’t about to let you fight this alone. You needed help.

“Alright listen up.” Price announced. Each one of them turned to look at him. “If you’ve rested, good, keep watch. If you haven’t get some. Need food, we’ve brought rations. Once we’re ready, we start planning our next move. Let’s get to it.”

You woke up, and reached for your water bottle. Yep, it was morning, and it was chilly. Getting some pain killers in you, you sipped some more water and stretched as much as you could. Two of the men were still in the cabin, Price and Kyle. You slowly got up and put the kettle on, getting a pack of oatmeal. It was like any other morning of shuffling around, half awake. You went to another room, getting changed along with putting on a coat and beanie, shivering a little. The cold helped you wake up. The kettle whistled loudly, waking you the rest of the way. A bowl, and pouring oats and water, dunk in a spoon and she had her breakfast, sitting at the foot of the bed.

“Sleep okay?” Kyle asked, politely. You nodded, mouth full of oatmeal. The door to the cabin opened and Johnny walked in with a folded up map.

“Am I allowed to ask your names?” You asked aloud.

“Why wouldnya?” Soap asked.

“You guys are SAS, isn’t that like secret services or something? I mean I’m not gonna fish for government secrets or anything unless Area 51 gets involved, then again you guys are British, well mostly. Sorry I’m rambling.” You said, going back to focusing on the food. “I’m sober I swear.”

“Johnny MacTavish, just call me Soap.” Johnny said. Oh this kid was a mess.

“You’re both John?” You asked looking between him and Price.

“Kyle Garrick. Can call me Gaz.” Kyle piped up. “You know the captain.”

“What about the guy with the mask?” You asked. As if on cue the guy with the mask walked in.

“Ghost.” Soap answered. Ghost looked up hearing his callsign and then looked at you, who jumped hearing him speak. Certainly a fitting name. You swallowed your mouthful, a little forcefully.

Once you finished your breakfast and got changed into cleaner clothes. You returned to the main space, where Price stood next to your conspiracy wall. He went over the plan, giving a briefing for finding the eggs, with you explaining where they were located and how the mob worked. You unfortunately couldn't track exact shifts, nor where all of them went for sleeping and eating, but you assumed it was inside the mines.

"I'll need more scraps if the trains are to pull through a charles attack. I can increase the speed and armour. People around here need some help though, so it might mean getting some errands done in order to get enough. A few of them also have weapons which with enough time can do some extra damage." You explained.

"Four men in that engine will be tight." Ghost commented. You didn't like that number.

"It would be three and two. There are two engines." You corrected. The room was quiet for a moment, and before Price could open his mouth, you spoke up. "I'm going with you. That is not up for debate."

"It'll be dangerous." Kyle reminded you. Thank you sergeant obvious, you thought.

"Your leg is fucked up, Y/N." Price said. "That is a good way to get yourself killed."

"So is letting you all go without some level of a guide. I know this island, and I know the people. They want out of this place as much as I do, but Charles is still out there. Not about to sit back and watch as every fucking thing I've done leads to nothing." You said firmly. You weren't about to be sidelined. The silence was deafening as the four men seemed to think they would have any say in the matter. For good measure you added, "And I have the keys to my engine in the shed."

Price considered it for a moment before realizing you were not gonna let this go. Your stubbornness reminded him of Farah's determination. Right now you were running on fumes, grief and some oatmeal. The look you had in your eyes told him you could be running on good sleep and good food, and your drive would still hold strong.

"Stay off your leg as much as possible, and stay safe. If we lose you we lose our intel." Price said. You nodded. He looked among his men, seeing them determined and ready. "Out here."

Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @dcnocap207 @reaper-chan666 @bestbookfriends @thriving-n-jiving

[epic-kotlc-crossover]

Remember them

this is the third chapter of the Cyclops Saga! hope you enjoy!

tags: @myfairkatiecat @sombrathedragon @bookwormgirl123 @thesfromhms @justalunaticfangirl

@ham-cheese-toastie

Everything was happening too quickly. Dex had just—died, he forced himself to think—and now Keefe was calling for him repeatedly.

"Captain! Captain!" Fitz squeezed his eyes shut, trying to collect himself. Wiping off the tears on his face, he stood up straight, the bright light of the sun making him dizzy.

We don't have much time, so we must move quickly, he transmitted out. I mixed lotus into his wine. That should buy us a little time.

"What about our friends?" Keefe asked desperately. Fitz shushed him quickly, they had to be quiet.

"Remember them," he whispered. "We will not let them die in vain."

The silence was suffocating. Every time Fitz looked up, there seemed to be a gaping hole where Dex and everyone else should've been.

Polyphemus needs to pay.

How, though? Fitz glanced around, and spied the unconscious cyclops' weapon. If they could just sharpen it—

"Everyone," Fitz said urgently, "We need to get ahold of his club."

It proved easier said than done. Even though Polyphemus was out cold, he was still enormous compared to the men.

And he'd fallen with one of his arms draped over the club.

Great.

Fitz and three of his men painstakingly lifted up the arm, and Fitz could feel his muscles straining. Internally, he berated himself. He was stronger than this, he knew that.

Losing seven of his friends—losing his best friend—must've been taking a toll.

Of course it was, who was he kidding? The 'turn off your emotions' was all Athena.

Anyway. When they finally got the club out from the cyclops, Fitz ordered some of the other men to shave down the end of the club into a sharp point, "We're going to throw it into his eye, so it needs to be sharp."

Soon enough, the smell of sawdust and the sound of scraping filled the air. It settled Fitz a little, the little ball of jitters in his chest slowing down.

It feeled like no time had passed at all when his men called him over.

"It's as sharp as we can make it," Keefe told him, looking exhausted. Fitz nodded, and gestured to some of his strongest men—excluding Keefe—to come over and help him.

It almost reminded him of home; helping with the ships. The feel grounded him again. He knew he'd need it, to be able to aim straight into his target.

They ran forward, Fitz screaming, "Remember them!"

This was for Dex.

This was for home.

They threw the club, and for a few tense moments it hurled through the air.

It hit right on target, and Polyphemus roared in pain, waking up with a start.

"Attack!" Keefe yelled. Once again they all charged toward the cyclops, painfully mirroring what had happened ten minutes before.

In the midst of battle, what sounded like thunder from the cloudy sky rang out over the land. “Who hurts you?”

Keefe whisper-shouted “There are more of them?”

“Who hurts you?” Fitz realized it must be more of the Cyclopses. How can we get out of this? he thought.

Slowly, seven more of the one-eyed beasts came into view. They looked slightly smaller than Polyphemus, but they were still hundreds of times bigger than the men.

Hide, he transmitted to his crew.  

“Captain, we should run,” Keefe said quietly, trying to tug Fitz away.

“Wait,” he said, staying in place. 

“Who hurts you?” they repeated.

“Captain, please,” Keefe begged.

“Wait!” Fitz hissed.

“It was Nobody,” Polyphemus told his fellow cyclopses.

“If nobody hurts you, then be quiet!” they snapped, turning away.

Don’t go!” Polyphemus said.

Let’s grab the sheep and go, Fitz ordered telepathically. The remaining soldiers emerged from their hiding spots, nodding and grabbing the dead sheep.

Have you forgotten the lessons I’ve taught you? Athena’s sharp tone asked in his mind. He’s still a threat until he’s dead! Finish it.

No. Fitz said. Athena didn’t see that it would be merciful to leave the Cyclops alive and wounded rather than dead.

No? She demanded.

My friend is dead and our foe is blind. What good would killing him do?

Fitz ignored her protest of Don’t! as he turned back to Polyphemus. His crew was safely on the ship, and he was the last one on the beach.

“Hey, Cyclops!” He shouted. “When we met I led with peace, while you fed your inner beast. But my friends will not die in vain! Remember us the next time that you choose not to spare your visitors!

“Remember me! I am your darkest moment. I am neither man nor mythical! I’m the reigning king of Ithica…. I am Fitz Vacker!”

[alagaisia]

Hey if you’re still enjoying and engaging with Harry Potter in any capacity you can unfollow me 😊 please and thank you

Like. I get it. I was super into it as a kid too. I did not have the social context to pick up on the antisemitism or transphobia or sexism or fatphobia or bioessentialism or racism or anything else. I also picked up on surface-level language of Fighting Back Against Evil and ascribed my own values onto what that meant and thought we were all on the same page. I remember when the original kids who grew up with the books started becoming adult fans and picking up on the (blatant!) antisemitism and everybody was still mostly willing to give JKR the benefit of the doubt on it. (“She was writing kids books!” They said. “She didn’t know she was penning a global phenomenon! She picked a common literary trend in European fairy tales (antisemitic caricature) and didn’t examine it closely. It’s a mistake anyone could make,” we said. “She would probably do things differently now. After all, she word-of-god confirmed the vaguest hints she dropped that Dumbledore might be gay,” we said.) There was actually a span of several years where biases inherent in the actual real content of the Harry Potter series were coming to light and even the people pointing them out still seemed mostly to think it was an unfortunate accident.

That time has passed. Years ago! We are long past the first months of “maybe she doesn’t realize this seemingly-feminist tweet she liked was made by a noted TERF” and then “how could she not realize that these many veiled TERF-y things she’s retweeted have implications for the many queer fans of her work” and finally “oh wow okay JKR just dropped an entire transphobic manifesto on twitter. I guess the transphobia was the point.”

Yeah, there were a few months after that where people were still processing and still working through how they felt about Harry Potter and all of its flaws with the context of the now open transphobia of the creator. I was there for that. Remember how I was one of the kids who built it up into something noble and worthwhile based on my own beliefs about what messages it was probably trying to convey? Turns out it wasn’t trying to say any of those things, and when you take the time to examine all of the terrible shit that made its way into the text whether JKR intended it to be there or not, the whole series falls apart. It’s weird to discover that there’s a room in your house that’s rotten to the core, but eventually you figure out you can’t live like that, still going in there and holding your nose and pretending it’s still the same room you thought it was when the termites were only inside of the walls and hadn’t yet started chewing their way through the furniture. Because what’s going to happen is that they are going to infest the rest of your house. If you decide you can ignore transphobia and antisemitism and everything else just because you liked the color of the wallpaper, the rest of your principles are going to crumble too. You get rid of that fucking room. You put those books on a high shelf in the back of your closet behind other outgrown clothes and interests and you move the fuck on.

JKR uses the money made from her transphobic antisemitic children’s books to actively funding hate groups and to lobby for legislation that will and has actually affected the actual lives of trans people in an entire country. We are past the point of grieving something you were wrong about in childhood. Kids are wrong about a lot of stuff. You grow up and you learn new information and you change your behaviors based on it. You have to choose. It is transphobic to pretend there is not transphobia where there is. It is transphobic to support the work of someone who is using those funds to take rights from trans people with every fucking dollar. It is hateful to continue to engage positively with a story that at its very core is rooted in hate and bigotry and prejudice. You can choose to do all of those things but you cannot claim ignorance of them and you cannot choose those things and still pretend that choosing them upholds the values we convinced ourselves that Harry Potter stood for over a decade ago as uninformed children. You cannot choose to do those things and pretend to still support your trans and queer and Jewish neighbors. I do not want you in my neighborhood. Leave.

[tastymelonfarm]

if I think about katniss and peeta too long my vision starts to look like when you take damage in a cod game

[fingertipsmp3]

Now that I think about it last night’s dream really hit a bingo of recurring themes tbh