#jey’s pride celebration 2k21

[flightlessangelwings]

Pride Celebration day 24: “Marry me.”

Kassandra x gn!reader

Word count: 956 Notes/Warnings: Requested by anon, thank you so much! No warnings really just fluff and sweetness. Mention of sexytimes but nothing explicit. I really enjoyed writing this one, and I’m happy with how it turned out! I imagined a fem reader as I wrote this, but it’s a gn reader with no pronouns. I’m not doing taglists for the pride event but the masterlist can be found in my pinned post! This gif of her makes me swoon too omg!

~

Life in your little town was quiet and uneventful. You were grateful to live in a place of relative peace in a time of war, but sometimes everything felt so routine and boring that you ached for more. That was until the day a beautiful misthios came into your town and helped some locals. It was months ago, but you still remember Kassandra’s visit like it was yesterday. She had asked you for advice and directions as she made her way around the town, and by the end of the day you fell into bed with her.

It was the most amazing night of your life, and you still got tingles whenever you thought about it. Your body felt as if it was on fire, but in a good way, and you wanted nothing more than to hold Kassandra close every night of your life. Even after just one night, you had fallen head over heels for her.

“Can’t you stay, Kassandra?” you asked her the next morning as she put on her armor, “Or better yet, take me with you. I’d love to travel and see the Greek world.”

Kassandra sighed and turned to you, “It’s too dangerous to take you,” she spoke softly as she cupped your face in her hands, “I can’t bear if anything happened to you.”

In that moment, you knew she cared about you just as much as you cared about her. Though it broke your heart to let her go, you sighed and dropped your gaze down, “I understand.”

She spoke your name in a tone that made your heart flutter, and she waited for your eyes to meet hers again before she continued, “I’ll come back to you when this is all over,” Kassandra leaned in and placed a tender kiss on your lips to seal her promise, “When the cult is destroyed and the world is free from their clutches…” the fire in her eyes burned as she spoke, “I’ll come back to you.”

With that, the love of your love walked out of your door.

That night was so long ago now, and yet it felt like just yesterday. Every night, you watched on the horizon for Kassandra, and every night as you went to bed alone. She had told you about her mission and why she couldn’t stay, and you knew how important it was. It wasn’t just for her and her family, but for the Greek world as a whole, including you. 

Some nights were easier than others. Sometimes word would reach your town about the fall of a corrupt figure or a brutal tyrant that was found murdered in his sleep. The villagers talked and speculated, but you knew it was Kassandra’s doing. You’d smile to yourself as you felt proud of her and happy that she succeeded on her mission, but you knew to keep that to yourself.

Other nights, the news was quiet. Those were the nights that you worried about your misthios. You knew she had skill that was unmatched, but you couldn’t help but worry for her at times. If she had died, how would you find out? How would you mourn her if you knew you’d never see her again in this life? But, as soon as those thoughts filled your head, you pushed them out. Kassandra wouldn’t die before she came back to you, she couldn’t. She was stronger than any of her opponents, you knew that.

It was a beautiful, sunny day and you were out at the market, like you usually were. You kept yourself occupied by working at the stalls and you helped your neighbors whenever you could. As you stared into the distance, for a moment you thought you saw the familiar brown braid and broken spear, but it turned out to be just your imagination. It always was, and with a sigh you looked back down and forced on your work.

That was until a familiar voice spoke your name.

Time stood still as you slowly looked up and turned around. There before you stood Kassandra, and you reached out slowly and touched her bicep to make sure she was real. “By the Gods…” you whispered as you collapsed against her in a tight hug. She laughed softly as she held you back just as tightly, “It is really you, Kassandra? This isn’t some cruel trick?”

“It’s me,” she replied, “I’m here. I came back for you.”

Happy tears streamed down your face as you hugged Kassandra close, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Kassandra kissed your head before she pulled back just enough to kiss you on your lips. It felt like a whirlwind as you ended up back in your home, in your bed, with her and you both stayed there and made love until late into the night. Passions erupted as you both made up for the long months you had spent apart until you were both exhausted.

You laid comfortably in Kassandra’s arms as she held you tightly. She kissed along your skin and mumbled sweet nothings in your ear until she paused.

“Kassandra?” you propped yourself up on your elbows to look into her face, “What is it?”

She looked deeply into your eyes for a moment. “Marry me.”

Your eyes went wide, “What?”

Kassandra cupped your face like she did the night she left you, “Marry me,” she repeated, “And we’ll never have to be apart again.”

A bright smile slowly lit up your face as you fully realized what she meant, “Yes… Yes!” you pounced on her and kissed her passionately. Laughter and moans filled your room as you made love again, this time as a newly engaged couple, and everything finally felt right.

[rayslittlekitten]

Would You Ever?

Jey's Pride Celebration 2k21 Series

A/N: Week 3 of Writer Wednesday for @autumnleaves1991-blog​ in collaboration with @flightlessangelwings​ for Jey’s Pride Celebration 2k21. I'm trying to continue the story from the last two weeks (The Kiss and When It Feels Right) but I feel like I shoehorned this a bit. It also doesn't help that I'm tryin to use all three prompts because I like a challenge sometimes. It’s super short again.

Rating: T

Word Count: 487

Pairing: Will "Ironhead" Miller x GN!reader

Plot: Will asks you a question that opens up the discussion about the future of your relationship.

Contains: fluff, mentions of PTSD, cursing

Week 3 prompts: glitter and/or “I’ll always be by your side”

"Well, I don't know if this is genius or silly," you say as you're flipping through a magazine.

"What is?" Will looks over at you as you're both relaxing on the couch. Your legs are stretched out and your feet are on his lap. He's playing some video game with his brother and the other Delta boys. Normally the both of you would spend time together doing things you wouldn't do alone or any other day, but that was when the relationship was long-distant. Will had asked if you wanted to take the relationship to the next step and he moved across the country for you. He can work from anywhere and he liked the hustle and bustle of New York City. The pace back home is slower and more relaxed but he liked the change. The two of you upgraded to a one bedroom and now live in a more comfortable space.

“This perfume ad. It’s supposed to be like glitter in a spray bottle. It looks cool I guess but the actual thought of spraying glitter all over my body is like… messy.” You’re thumbing through a bridal magazine to help your sister with ideas for her wedding.

“You wouldn’t want to look like a disco ball on you wedding day?” Will jokes. “No, I’m not talking to you guys! I’m talking to Y/N!”

“What are the guys saying?” You chuckle.

“Nothing. Just stupid shit," Will shakes his head and smirks.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, Will breaks it.

"Would you ever want to get married?"

You stop mid-page turn and look up at him.  His eyes are glued to the TV as his fingers are rapidly pressing the buttons on his controller. 

"Come on, Pope! That was a shit shot!" Will shouts, looking defeated and then looks over at you and caresses your leg.

"Were you talk to me or talking to the guys?" you ask.

"Shut up, guys! I'm muting myself."

You continue looking at him, waiting for an answer.

"Of course I'm talking to you," Will responds.

"Are you proposing to me?"

"Well, no, not right now, but I just thought maybe we can talk about where this relationship might be going."

You were quite surprised at his question, knowing his history. He was once engaged to someone and it didn't work out in the end. His PTSD was something that ultimately brought the engagement to an end, but he's a different man now. He's learned to manage it really well since.

"Well, I've never really thought that far ahead," you answer honestly. "But I do know I want to spend the rest of my life with you and I’ll always be by your side regardless of what happens."

Will smiles and leans in towards you while pulling his headset off to climb on top of you to make out with you.

"What about the guys?" you giggle.

"Screw them."

[ladyblogger-margie]

Bedside Confession

Pairing: Mobius M Mobius x Loki Laufeyson (MCU)

Summary: Mobius gets hurt out on a mission while Loki was stuck on desk duty and as Mobius lays unconscious, Loki sits by his side in the medical wing of the TVA.

Word Count: 2719

Warnings: angst, serious injury mentions, happy ending though. 

a/n: This was written for @flightlessangelwings Pride celebration writing challenge. This week’s prompt is fairy tale / “I’m in love with you” and it’s also for Writer Wednesday organized by @autumnleaves1991-blog who provided the picture prompt. I started writing this before episode 4 came out. 

MY MASTERLIST

Loki’s head snapped up off of the stack of documents he had fallen asleep on top of. He was awoken by  the sound of a crash at the end of the row of cubicles. He nearly launched himself backwards off the chair he was sitting thanks to the swift jerk of his head. He looked around Mobius’ desk, lamenting his absence. Mobius had been out in the field far too long without him. 

He still hadn’t earned his spot back on Mobius’ team after the whole, running out after the Variant and hiding out in an apocalypse, leaving Mobius behind in a store during an apocalypse of his own. While Mobius saved him from being reset, earning a spot back on the team was something Loki needed to do on his own, and so far, the own person he’s seemingly convinced is Mobius. 

Desk duty had been taxing on Loki and frankly he actually hadn’t accomplished much in Mobius’ absence. He spent most of his time trying to distract himself from worrying about Mobius. 

It was foolish to worry about such a competent agent, but Loki couldn’t help that affection interfered with his rational thinking. He logically knew Mobius would be fine, but the thought of losing him terrified Loki in ways he never expected. 

Loki suddenly registered the source of the crash that startled him awake. There were units of Hunters returning through the Time Doors, and a few of them were carrying stretchers. Loki’s heart plummeted when he didn’t see Mobius in the crowd. He raced towards the doors and a very cranky Hunter snapped them shut when she saw Loki rushing. 

“Oh please,” Loki said, offended, “Like I’d ever be that obvious. 

She raised an eyebrow indicating she didn’t believe him, but moved on and left Loki behind to look over the stretchers. Bile twisting in his throat as he debated which would be worse, Mobius being on a stretcher, or him not being there at all. Neither reality would put Loki’s mind at ease. 

He whimpered before he even fully registered why. Laying out in front of him was the unmoving, bloody form of Mobius. 

Loki dropped to his knees as he grasped Mobius’ wrists breathless and weeping. 

“He’s alive,” one of the Hunters said, “We have to get him to medical.” 

Loki didn’t know their designation but nodded in the direction of the voice, his eyes locked on Mobius as he stood, his hand still covering Mobius’ as he jogged alongside the stretcher as they rushed to the medical unit. 

When they arrived at the medical wing, it took four agents to pull Loki away from the stretcher. Three of them eager to muscle him around and apply aggressive force, but one, the one who had assured him Mobius was alive, tried to soothe him. 

“They’re going to save him, he’s going to be okay,” the agent repeated over and over again as Loki tried to catch his breath. 

Eventually, Loki collapsed to the floor, his head in his hands, elbows propped up on his trembling knees. The agents left him there, alone to stew in his thoughts. 

Time always works differently in the TVA, but Loki was certain that it had never run longer than it did as he waited for news. He alternated from pacing in front of the door, sneaking glances through the small glass windows, and huddling in on himself on the floor. 

He didn’t know how long he’d been there when one of the medical officers came out of the door and eyed him suspiciously.

“You’ve been here the whole time?” the Officer asked.

“Where else would I be?” Loki snipped, his tone sharp.

The Officer half-smiled and shrugged, “He’s going to be fine, would you like to see him?”

Loki didn’t fully register the words at first, “He’s alright?”

“He’s sedated, but he’s going to be fine,” the officer confirmed and held the door open, “Come on, I’ll take you to him.”

Loki rushed after the Medical Officer through the halls towards the private room in which Mobius was recovering. Loki paused outside the door to collect himself and catch his breath when he was left alone and the Medical Officer returned to his duties. Loki knew that Mobius would be unconscious, but just in case he wasn’t, Loki didn’t want to give away just how scared he was for him. 

Loki ran his fingers through his hair, attempting to calm the chaos he’d created while waiting in agony out in the hall. Once he was content with his hair tucked behind his ears, he finally broached the entrance to the room. 

He clenched his fists as his face blanched at the sight of Mobius laying on a pristine white bed, his wounds patched but still fresh. Loki saw a chair sitting in the corner of the room and he pulled it next to the bed. He sat down hesitantly, looking Mobius over again and again, each time discovering additional injuries. With each new scratch, Loki felt a stab in his heart. He should have been out there with him, if he had, Mobius would have never gotten hurt. Loki felt so much guilt he thought he might be sick. 

He tried to soothe himself with deep breaths, but all he managed were quiet, shallow gasps as he reached out with a trembling hand to gingerly rest on top of Mobius’ still hand, careful to avoid the various tubes and wires he didn’t fully understand. He felt the warmth of Mobius’ skin under his touch and for the first time all day he felt his face collapse into a small smile as relief cascaded through his body. Mobius was alive, and the proof was under his fingertips. 

He trailed his slender fingers to the soft flesh of the inside of Mobius’ wrist and indulged himself feeling Mobius’ pulse, steady and surprisingly strong. Loki used the beat to steady his own breathing until the room stopped spinning and he felt himself relax into the chair. 

He tried to push away the anger he felt for the TVA and focus his energy on Mobius instead, but he found the exercise difficult. They shouldn’t have kept him from the field, from Mobius, and they should’ve done their job and kept Mobius safe. 

Loki winced as his anger swelled and the resulting magic knocked the jug of water off the side table onto the floor. He didn’t realize he’d been hoping the sound would startle Mobius awake until it didn’t. So instead he sighed and with a lazy flip of his hand, returned the jug to its place and cleared away the slipping hazard. 

He turned his attention back to Mobius, studying the features he’d already long committed to memory. His nose was still crooked and charming, though the added appearance of a freshly patched cut was jarring. The similar gash on his own nose he suffered in New York had healed just fine at the TVA, and besides, even if it did scar, it would do nothing to mar Loki’s opinion or attraction. 

Loki’s gaze left Mobius’ nose and travelled to his hair. Someone had done him the dignity of combing the short, grey hairs to the side, though Loki noted it wasn’t in his usual style. The difference was subtle, and Loki wasn’t sure anyone else would notice other than him and Mobius himself. 

Loki only hesitated briefly before he brushed his free hand across Mobius’ forehead, feeling the slight perspiration there before he pushed his hand up through Mobius’ hair. He felt the soft hairs between his finger and thumb, gently setting them in place. He was suddenly hit by a memory from when he was a child and a warmth filled his heart. He was sick in bed and his mother was brushing his hair as she sang him a quiet Asgardian lullaby. 

Loki ran his fingers through Mobius’ hair as he hovered over him and he started to sing that same lullaby softly under his breath. He pushed back the tears threatening to spring past his eyes, and focused on the warmth of Mobius and the tune of the simple song. He imagined doing this again when Mobius was better, and after Loki finally told him the truth. 

When he was happy with the way Mobius’ hair was laying, Loki sat back down and intertwined his hand with Mobius’. He continued to sing lazily, curious if Mobius could hear him as he did. He sang while thinking of his mother, and now his partner and the intimacy of caring for another person. 

He was interrupted when a medical officer entered carrying a tray of food. Loki chewed his inner lip but forced a smile to the officer. 

“Do you expect him to wake up soon?” Loki asked, gesturing to the tray. 

“Not necessarily but, we thought you might be hungry and it didn’t seem like you’d be leaving any time soon,” the officer said, kindly. 

Loki’s eyebrows jumped up in surprise. He hadn’t expected a kindness such as this. 

“Oh, well, thank you,” Loki said before he cleared his throat and watched the officer leave. 

Loki eyed the tray, it was a very simple white bread sandwich and a small salad. Loki was touched at the gesture, but a little insulted at the selection. 

“I know you enjoy a salad, so I’ll save that for you,” Loki whispered to Mobius who was still unconscious. 

Loki sauntered over to the tray and picked up one of the sandwich halves before taking an unimpressed bite. He chewed the dry, flavorless sandwich thinking about the broths and stews his mother had prepared from him when he was sick. 

“On Asgard,” Loki said, translating his memories to speech in the hope that Mobius could somehow hear him. 

“On Asgard, we’d have a feast for every occasion, and my mother was sure to organize one for me whenever I had recovered from an illness. I was sick more often than Thor, and looking back, his wild behavior at those feasts was perhaps a result of jealousy for the attention I was receiving,” Loki chuckled, “And ironically I was jealous of him for his health and strength. We never were great at communicating our issues.” 

Loki took his seat next to Mobius, kicking his feet up at the end of his bed as he intertwined their hands together again and he continued his monologue as he finished his sandwich half.

“But what I remember most was not the feasts, but the parties that followed. The food continued of course, but the music grew and the dancing was vigorous. My favorite part was the grand entrances. We had this staircase from which the guests would be announced and then descend. Of course as the royal family we would be the final announced and I always wanted to be announced alongside someone. I came close once.”

Loki sighed, lost in thought, “A young lady from Asgard was meant to be my partner for the evening, but she threw a fit when she saw that the dress I was wearing would far out shine her own.”

He laughed, “I thought her narcissism is what would make us compatible, but I guess I was wrong.”

Loki’s head was thrown over the back of the chair, his eyes closed and smiling as he clutched Mobius’ hand to keep him grounded. 

“I’d like to take you there,” Loki whispered, “The staircase on Asgard, enter with you on my arm, or I on yours - I’m not picky on the particulars. I just want to be with you.”

Loki turned to look at Mobius, still unmoving and he felt his own lower lip tremble. He dropped his head to rest on Mobius’ arm. 

“You have to wake up, Mobius, please,” Loki begged, tears finally rolling down his cheeks. 

“I’m awake,” Mobius said, his voice strained and scratchy, “No need to get emotional about it.”

The sound froze Loki in place, “You’re awake? What did you hear?”

Mobius coughed before answering, “Just you begging me to wake up.”

“That’s all?” Loki asked, trying to stay neutral but he felt the flush creeping to his cheeks. 

“And some stuff about Asgard, and I heard you singing,” Mobius said. 

Loki winced, “They told me you were unconscious.”

“Well, I guess I wasn’t as bad off as I looked,” Mobius said with a laugh that was cut off with a sharp inhale as he clutched his side. 

“Look - as bad as you look,” Loki said, not meeting Mobius’ gaze and suddenly hyper aware of their hands entangled together, “You look truly terrible.”

Loki finally dragged his eyes up to stare back at Mobius’ icy blue ones and he felt fully seen in a way he’d never been before. He felt the way he did every time Mobius looked at him. 

“I am glad that you’re awake,” Loki said, his voice breaking, “You can’t imagine the panic I was in when they brought you in.”

Mobius smiled, his eyes crinkling as he did and Loki felt his heart lurch. All he wanted to do was caress every inch of Mobius, feel him under his touch as he brushed his cheeks with his thumb, or tuck his face in the crook of his neck. 

But instead he was frozen and took a deep breath. 

“I’m - I’m,” Loki stuttered. 

“I know,” Mobius said with a gentle nod, “It’s okay.”

Loki shook his head, “No it’s not. I need to say it. You have to know.”

His voice grew more and more frantic and patiently Mobius waited, though a sneaky smile crept across his face. 

“I’m in love with you,” Loki said in full sincerity. 

He felt his shoulders relax as the pent up tension finally released there and he chuckled, breathlessly as he did. It was like letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

Mobius dropped his head to the side as his eyes searched Loki’s face, biting back a smile. 

They sat in silence, and the longer Mobius stayed silent, the more Loki squirmed. 

Finally Loki couldn’t help himself, “Aren’t you going to say something? Did you hear me?”

“I heard you,” Mobius said. 

“I love you, Mobius,” Loki said, “You don’t have to love me back, just please don’t ask me to leave.”

Mobius squeezed Loki’s hand weakly, but Loki knew it was the best he could do and he appreciated the effort. 

“I don’t want you to leave, Loki,” Mobius said. 

Loki watched as Mobius struggled to lift his other hand to Loki’s face so Loki closed the distance and hovered over him to reduce his effort. When Mobius’ palm captured Loki’s cheek, he pressed against it and turned his lips against the slightly clammy skin. 

“I love you too,” Mobius said in barely a whisper. 

Loki choked out a laugh through the tears in his eyes. He pressed his lips against Mobius’ bruised lips softly.

Loki pulled back farther quicker than he wanted to in an attempt to keep from hurting the already fragile Mobius. 

“Hey,” Mobius protested, “I wasn’t done.”

“You’re injured, there will be time later,” Loki promised, “Presuming you still like me once you’ve recovered.”

He smiled at his joke to hide the real fear that lingered in those words as he looked away. 

Mobius pulled Loki’s head back to look at him, “I love you, Loki.”

Loki smiled, “You nearly died, I understand that’s how you feel now-”

Mobius shook his head and winced in pain.

“I should go, let you recover,” Loki said, pulling away, “I’m causing you distress, which can’t be good.”

“Loki,” Mobius said, his tone frustrated yet soft, “Stop it, just trust me, please.”

Loki held his breath.

“Trust me when I say I love you, and I want you to stay,’ Mobius elaborated. 

“I trust you, implicitly, without question, always,” Loki said. 

“Then believe me when I saw I love you,” Mobius challenged him. 

Loki nodded and leaned back to kiss Mobius, this time a little firmer, a little more desperate. An enthusiasm eagerly returned by Mobius to the best of his injured ability. It wasn’t exactly a fairy tale, but all of Loki’s secret hopes were coming true just the same. Perhaps he was worthy of a happy ending after all. 

[lucrezia-thoughts]

Pride

Pairing: Frankie x gn!Reader (gender neutral) x Benny Miller x Will Miller x Santiago Garcia

Warning(s): polyamorous relationship, cursing...

Link to Master List

"Stop fiddling with it," you laughed as you swatted Frankie's hand away from the brim of his pride hat, "it's just one day with a different hat, you can take it!"

"Yeah, don't be so dramatic, Fish!" Benny poked his head over Frankie's shoulder and pressed a wet kiss to his cheek, leaving a large red glittering lip print.

"I'm dramatic?" Frankie turned towards Benny and looked him up and down. "You are wearing a speedo and you're covered in glitter and I'm the one being dramatic?"

"Yes," Benny smirked and shot you a wink before crawling back into the SUV.

"Are you sure you don't want to wear something a little more revealing there, Benny?" Will called to his brother from his position lying back against the hood and you had to bite back your giggle.

"Fuck you, Will," Benny called from inside the car and you burrowed your head in Frankie's chest, but the sound of you laughing still carried. "Really, baby?" Benny poked his head out of the car to pout at you.

"It was funny," you defended, making your way over to Will. Turning to grin at him, you pressed your lips against his for a peck, but his large hand reached out to cup the back of your head.

“Kiss me again, like you mean it, honeybee," he whispered against your lips before capturing them in a deeper kiss that quickly heated up. As he guided you between his legs, Santiago's voice cut through the moment.

"Cut that shit out," he chastised as he wrapped his hands around your waist and helped you off of Will.

"What the fuck, Pope?" Will protested, sitting up to glare at Santiago.

"We don't have time for fucking right now, the parade is starting," he looked Will up and down before adding, "is that what you're wearing?"

Will looked down at his t-shirt and jeans and quirked his eyebrow at Santiago, "what's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

"It's a pride parade, Ironhead," Santiago deadpanned, "where are your pride colors?"

Benny chose that moment to climb back out of the SUV and Will looked from Santiago to Benny and back. "Right there..."

~~~~

TAG LIST: @autumnleaves1991-blog @prideandpascal @paintballkid711 @artsymaddie @computeringturtle @northernpunk @sleep-tight1 @stillshelbs @star-wars-hell @salome-c @hnt-escape @shadowolf993 @frostsoldier @flightlessangelwings

[artemiseamoon]

A Symbol of Hope

Valkyrie x f reader (musician) 

Words:1,138  | Credit to gif makers (2 by me)

My Writer Wednesday submission | @autumnleaves1991-blog​ @flightlessangelwings​ | Rainbow + “hold my hand tight, I’ll protect you”

Warnings: Being captured and kept on a planet against your will (other wise angst and fluff) 

You started off in Saakar as a lost and unloved thing, as they would say. Fleeing the life you once had, you stole a ship and took off. Unfortunately, you ended up in some kind of time warp and landed in the garbage fields of Saakar.

It was a strange thing, fleeing one's life of bondage to end up in another. You still remember the faint feeling of hope when you saw who found you that day.

But hope was quickly replaced by fear and disappointment when Scrapper 142 captured you, turning you over to the eccentric and unusual Grandmaster for a payday.

Lady luck worked in your favor, somehow, and you ended up in the Grandmaster's good graces. You landed a gig in his band, a job that came with luxuries most on Saakar could only dream of.

It gave you the freedom to roam and move about semi-freely, as long as you didn’t leave Saakar. You always had a good ear and a talent for sound, your funky taste was just the thing Grandmaster enjoyed, you fit right in.

…

You only saw Scraper 142 in passing; whenever she would haul someone in and drink during the fights. She fascinated you, sure, part of you was upset she rounded you up like some animal, but you also knew your fate on Saakar was that of the more fortunate kind.

You wondered about her past, and where she came from. There was a weariness in her eyes, despite the amused expression she usually had. Though this place was full of interesting people, scrapper 142 captured your attention the most.

Your first true interaction came the night of a fight. You lost count of how many you’ve seen, watching from the VIP box with the Grandmaster's closest allies and people he found amusing.

It was a night like all the others until you wandered downstairs for a change of scenery. It didn’t take long to notice her, standing at a small round table and drinking with a group of burly-looking characters covered head to toe in armor.

Easily holding her own, you hear her arguing with them before taking a fire-lit beer into her hands. Even among this group, and being the smallest person there, she looked like an absolute badass.

You linger a little too long, and she catches you looking. She holds up the drink and winks at you before knocking back. Scrapper 142 was infamous for her consumption level, and by the way she knocked that thing back, you didn't know if you should be impressed or horrified.

Finished with the beer, she slams the bottle down on the table and makes her way over to you. Her big brown eyes land on yours. “Hey, I captured you.”

“Yeah, that's not something someone forgets,” you crook a brow at her.

She takes a step back and looks you over, “you’ve done well for yourself.”

“Not that I have you to thank for that.”

She smirks, “why aren't you in your pretty little box?”

You shrug, “I need a change of scenery.”

Something sparkles in those chocolate eyes and she briefly walks away from you and heads to the bar. She pays for two drinks and makes her way back to you.

With an invitation in her eyes, she puts one in your hands.

…

That was how it started.

You soon made it a habit, sneaking away to see her whenever you could. Your playful banter and jokes quickly lead to more. She even told you her name, Valkyrie. But you still didn’t know about her past.

Time worked differently in Saakar, you had no idea what day it was, what year, or how many days have passed since you’ve been here. All you knew was your life in Saakar had two parts; before Valkyrie, and after.

Despite your privileged status with the Grandmaster, you never wanted to stay here, you never wanted it to be home, you never wanted to be someone's property. For that, you could have stayed home in your old life.

Escaping Saakar wasn't an option, you saw what happened to those who tried, and one night after drinking alone, Valkyrie found you and took it upon herself to warn you if you ever tried.

You never said anything to her aloud, but there was this weird sort of psychic connection between you. She could read you, just like you could read her. Which meant you knew she was weary, tired, and just going along because she really saw no other way out.

Having Valkyrie made your time here easier, sweeter, and when the day came you could leave, though the possibility was nil, you hoped she would go with you.

…

The chance comes when you least expect it.

Valkyrie caught a gold mine when she captured her most recent victim. The Grandmaster announced him as the lord of thunder the night of his fight. It was a fight he almost won, but the Grandmaster couldn't have that.

You soon learned from Valkyrie, the man's claims of being a god were actually true,  and he asked her for help to escape Saakar.

That was the same time you finally found out about her past. In a rare vulnerable state, she told you everything and asked if you wanted to come. You said yes.

On that last morning before your departure, she drove you out to the canyons to talk about the plan in private. No one really came out this far, and you wouldn't run the risk of getting overheard.

As you talk you notice how beautiful the day is, the sky a vibrant blue and clear.

“Look!” Valkyrie nudges you to look left, a gorgeous rainbow shoots up through the sky. It's a symbol of hope you tell yourself.

But even with the rainbow, you feel worried, anxious; fear overtakes your excitement.

What if you get caught?

What if Grandmaster finds out?

What if you make it, but someone dies in the process? What if she dies?

Your worried state must have been written all over your face. Valkyrie opens the palm of her hand, eyes fixed on yours until you give her your own. She wraps her fingers around tight and squeezes.

“You’re afraid?”

“I am. Aren't you?” You ask.

Using her free hand, Valkyrie caresses the side of your face.

“We’re going to do this, and whenever you feel doubt, just remember this feeling right here,” she raises both your hands to eye level, “Stay close. Hold my hand tight, I’ll protect you.”

The warmth of her hand and in her eyes is just the thing you need. Feeling comforted, you rest your head on her shoulder and gaze at the rainbow.

Maybe she was right. Maybe everything would be okay and you would finally escape Saakar.

Tags for this: @over300books​ @punkrocknpearls​ @engineeredfiction​

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Masterlist

[pumpkin-stars]

one two three

Frankie Morales/Will Miller. Fluff.

The TF boys attend their first Pride Parade. Frankie’s POV. Sort of a follow up to Peaceful Living but a few years later than that was set :)

This week’s @autumnleaves1991-blog​‘s Writer Wednesday, and I included @flightlessangelwings​’s Pride Month Weekly Writing Challenge too!

Word Count: ~800

Warnings/Content: brief mention of past violence (delta force stuff), an unsupportive ex-wife, Santi tries to get some, baby!Morales isn’t a baby anymore, Frankie doesn’t really understand all the different sexualities but he’s trying his best.

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Prompt: pride / “kiss me again, like you mean it”

He’s not sure why he agreed to this… probably because he knew it would piss off his ex wife and make his daughter happy all in one go.

He’s got a flag wrapped around his shoulders, Santi had explained the colours when it was handed to him but… he doesn’t remember exactly what it means. He’s got blue, pink, and purple stripes on his cheeks, his scruff tidied for the occasion, and with this many people around it’s a little disorienting, but there’s Francesca - Little Frankie (or Small Fry if you ask Uncle Benny) - sitting on his shoulders, her “I ❤️ my 2 Dads” t-shirt on, and that large, warm, and equally nervous hand in his own.

He never really came out. Not in the explicit “hey, I’m gay” kinda way, but… the guys always knew he wasn’t entirely straight. Probably cause most of them weren’t either. He likes girls. He likes guys. He likes people. Whoever he likes, he doesn’t really care about what’s in their pants, just… for the heart in their chest and the kindness in their soul. He likes bisexual, and, he assumes that’s what the colours Pope’s put him in convey.

Santi’s there, decked out in pink, yellow, and blue, his midriff on display as he chats up whoever’s nearby with a flag that might somehow match up. There’s girls in the same colours as him checking out his ass, people who seem to like yellow and purple grinning at his confidence, men in rainbows spending a lot of time looking at the front of his shorts.

And Benny’s there - same colours as Pope, but the girlfriend on his arm wearing the same colours as Fish helps to fend off other’s smiles.

Francesca’s a little too big to be on his shoulders, but Frankie won’t complain, not when she’s leaning forward, her little arms pressing the brim of his Baby’s First Pride ballcap down and blocking the sun from his eyes. Her own heart-shaped sunglasses do the job for her, and she insisted on changing her shoelaces to rainbows. His little princesa having the time of her life up there with the flags and the few other kids who are young enough to claim a seat on their parents rather than have to walk with the adults.

The hand holding his squeezes tightly - one two three - and he smiles. This street is crowded, and they’re both a little anxious, but they’re together. They’ll get through this like they’ve got through everything that’s come before.

He didn’t really understand Will’s flag at first, the big dark triangle and the little purple stripe, but he listened, got that explanation. Ironhead doesn’t care about looks, just heart, but unlike Fish, there’s no sexual desire without an emotional bond. No one night stands or quickies on base to satisfy urges. The urges… simply aren’t there.

Not towards Frankie, anyways. Not til a few years after Colombia. After they slaved away building up that old farmhouse, making the place a home for him and Francesca, spending weeks together, bonding without the threat of enemy fire or friends interruptions, learning each other all over again, older, only a little wiser, and both more comfortable in their skin.

And now they’re here. Catfish and Ironhead. Ironfish, as Pope started calling them. Cathead, as Benny quickly stopped calling them after his big bro’s entirely serious threats to his junk. They’re here and they’re together, and this place is so loud and sweaty but unlike every other loud and sweaty location they’ve been in before. It’s fun, relaxed, and without any kind of guilt. Not like the stressful sleepless nights of recon and the succeeding days of washing blood from his hands.

It’s Pride. And, yeah, he is proud. It’s been a long recovery - physically, mentally, emotionally… his back still twinges sometimes (Will’s gonna have to take Cesca from him soon), but most of the nightmares have stopped, and at long last he’s been able to express his non-heterosexual self without fear of repercussions in his work life and hatred in the home.

He squeezes Will’s hand - one two three - and the taller man smiles down at him, leaning in to peck his lips.

Francesca giggles as her daddy blushes, her papa adjusting his grip on her ankle as he smiles.

“Kiss me again?” Frankie’s voice rumbles softly, “Like you mean it?”

Will grins, cheeks heated, the both of them so incredibly unused to such public affection. Saturday barbecues at the farmhouse with their mismatched family is a far cry from the middle of this heaving throng.

“Do it!” Little Frankie urges, and neither man can say no to her.

~~~

Taglist: @a-skov​  @abelmorales​ @amneris21​ @apascalrascal @darnitdraco​ @goldielocks2004​  @idreamofboobear​ @irrelevantbutembarrassing​  @joanofarkansass​ @kaybrownies​ @phrog-seeds @readsalot73​ @thedukeleto​ @tobealostwanderer​ @xxlovingfandomsxx​ @yours-truly-r​  

[kikis-writing-world]

Flags and Labels

Part of Writer Wednesday by @flightlessangelwings​ & @autumnleaves1991-blog

Pairing: Modern AU, pan!Din Djarin x Bi!Reader (GN, no pronouns, no Y/N)

Word Count: >2k

Rating/Warnings: Mentions of a religious upbringing and trauma from that past. Essentially Din grew up in “The Children of the Watch” and was very sheltered, but is now exploring the real world. If I’m missing anything else I should tag in this vein, please let me know.

pride  /  “Kiss me again, like you mean it.”

You smiled brightly at Din as he gazed around, a look of wonder on his face. The street was alive with colour. Walls, windows, fences, parking meters: Everywhere you looked were multicoloured flags of every kind, representing the various people taking to the streets to celebrate their freedom to be who they are. The people themselves in the streets were just as colourful. They sported flags and bright colours and all kinds of eccentric accessories, showcasing who they’re proud to be. The joy in the air was palpable, contagious even.

You had been friends with Din for nearly two years now, the two of you having met at the local library. He always took out such interesting books on a variety of subjects, both fiction and non-fiction, and shortly after becoming acquainted with him you found out why. He had grown up in a very strict religious sect - some would go so far to describe them as a cult - and had been sheltered from many things until his early adulthood. When he became comfortable with you, he had just as many questions for you about the “real world” as you had about his past.

One topic that had come up as you two talked about Din’s past was his sexuality. He had known from a young age that something was different. His religion had been strict about heterosexual couples being the only way, shunning all other types of love. You happily helped him find books and resources he could look into, to further explore his feelings. You also opened up, sharing your own personal journey and experiences as you came to terms with your bisexuality.

When you suggested taking Din to this year’s pride, he was both nervous and excited. He still wasn’t a fan of large crowds, a side effect of his upbringing. He also didn’t know what to expect when he got there. With some research and reassurance from you that you wouldn’t leave his side, he agreed. You were so glad he did now that you were watching him take it all in. 

“All these people…” Din trailed off, losing his voice.

“They all support love.” You finished the thought. “Regardless of labels, they all just wanna be who they are, love who they want. There’s always some protesters, but whatever, don’t pay them any mind. We outnumber them.” You chuckled.

“I had no idea this was out here, all this time.” He breathed.

You had to bite your lip to keep your own emotions in check. The look of awe, the unshed tears in his eyes. You felt drawn to the sweet, quiet man like a moth to a flame. You’d been falling for him for months, the embers of your crush only stoked when he opened up about his sexuality and yes, you were in his spectrum. The glimmer of hope that he might be attracted to you dangled in front of you like a feathered cat toy… but you just couldn’t risk it. He had opened up to you, come to you for guidance and a shoulder to cry on. You felt guilty taking that away from him if you pushed that line too far. You’d crush on him silently while remaining a pillar of support.

“C’mon,” you wrapped your hand around his forearm - a safer place than taking his hand or feeling the enticing muscle hidden under the sleeve of his t-shirt - “let’s dive in.”

You watched Din carefully as you two walked the streets and took in all the sights. You wanted to know if he was getting overwhelmed or uncomfortable, but he took it all in stride. He had lots of questions about the performing drag queens, and not all that you could answer yourself. You laughed heartily at the look on his face when one queen draped her boa over his shoulders with a shimmy. 

There were people doing tarot readings, which while he seemed intrigued about, didn’t want to miss anything else by waiting in the long line. You shared a rainbow coloured ice cream sundae which turned your tongue different colours as you went, both of you laughing as you stuck your tongue out periodically - you forced yourself not to think about how the flavors would taste on his tongue every time it came out a different colour.

You made a point to stop at some information booths for local groups, picking up flyers for Din to look over later. Sports teams, choirs, friendship/support groups; Din was absolutely shocked to find there were arms of religion that not only accepted but supported LGBTQ+ rights. You knew he was struggling with reconciling his religious teachings with the “real world” and thought maybe these groups might be able to help navigate it more than you could with your limited experience.

A face painting booth caught your eye and you dragged Din over, not that he was putting up much of a fight. There were a few people doing the face painting, some clearly artists who would do a full-face of whatever you requested, but also there were some that were simply painting pride flags on cheeks for the price of a donation to a local queer youth shelter.

You and Din looked over the board they had set up of different flags, all that you had seen throughout the day as you explored.

Dropping some money into the bucket, you sat on the stool and asked for a bisexuality flag. Din stood by and watched as the artist painted. You kept quiet, not wanting to cause them to mess up.

“Well? What do you think?” You prompted when they were done.

“It looks nice.” Din nodded.

“Did you want one too?” The artist asked, looking Din’s way.

You looked over to Din, smiling as you waited for him to answer. As comfortable as he’d grown in your time walking around and meeting new people, you didn’t know if he was ready to wear anything pride related. It was his call, but you looked as encouraging as you could.

“Um, can I get this one?” He asked, pointing at the Pansexuality flag. Your heart soared for him. It wasn’t exactly a declaration of finding the right label, but feeling comfortable enough to display the flag on his cheek was definitely progress.

“Of course!” They answered, gesturing for Din to sit in the stool as they got the right colours ready. As he sat, you gave his shoulder a squeeze. He looked up at you with a soft smile, eyes shining with excitement.

“Have you ever had your face painted before?” You questioned, realizing that it probably wasn’t the kind of thing he’d grown up with.

“I don’t think so.” He shrugged.

“Oh, it’s been a while since I had a virgin.” The artist teased with a wink, making you laugh as Din blushed bright red. You ran your hand across his shoulders to soothe him through the embarrassment, although all it did was make your own face flush as you felt the firm muscles twitch under his shirt.

“All done!” It took the artist only a few moments to swipe the three colours evenly along his cheek. They lifted a handheld mirror so Din could see for himself. He nodded his approval with a quiet thanks, adding some more money into the collection bucket.

“C’mere, let’s get into the sun for a picture!” You suggested as you skipped ahead of him. He followed, grinning at your excitement as you found the perfect spot and opened up your camera.

He leaned over you, head nearly resting on your shoulder as you started snapping selfies. Happy ones, goofy ones, serious ones. Your thumb automatically tapped every few seconds as the two of you made different faces. When Din pressed his lips to your cheek, the picture captured every ounce of surprise you felt.

“Thanks for bringing me here.” Din smiled as you tucked your phone away, trying to hide your burning face.

“Y-yeah. I’m glad you enjoyed it.” You stuttered, picking at some non-existent lint on your shirt.

“Did I do something wrong?” The flatness in Din’s voice made your head shoot up. He was frowning, the excitement of the day all but vanished from his expression.

“No. W-W-Why… Why would you think that?” You shook your head, internally cursing yourself for the reaction you had to a simple, friendly kiss.

“I kissed you, and you…” He trailed off, gesturing at you in lieu of verbalizing his thoughts. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No, Din. Don’t apologize-”

“I’ve been trying to tell you for a while now-”

The two of you began speaking at once, only to both pause when you realized the other was talking.

“Trying to tell me what?” You asked, feeling that familiar heat rising up your neck into your cheeks.

“I… I like you… more than just friends…” Din admitted, looking down and kicking at a rock on the ground. “I guess today just… made me feel… brave.”

“Really?” You squeaked, voice malfunctioning as you fought to keep your body under control. You wanted to jump, sing, cartwheel, hell you would fly if you had the ability.

“You don’t have to like me back. I don’t want it to change anything.” Din continued, still focussed on the rock.

You tucked your hand under his chin, forcing him to look up and see with his own eyes how you felt about his confession. His eyes widened a fraction when he took in the wide smile you wore ear to ear.

“I definitely like you back.” You confirmed. “And you are one of the bravest people I know.”

A sigh of relief gave way to a matching smile on Din’s face, the two of you smiling at each other widely, neither sure what to say next.

“Din?”

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me again, like you mean it.”

The only regret the two of you held from your first real kiss was the smudged flags on your cheeks.

Tagging @wickedfrsgrl​ @din-damn-djarin​ @seasonschange-butpeopledont​ @kesskirata​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @vonschweetz​ @insideafictionaluniverse​ @driedgreentomatoes​ @computeringturtle​ @spideysimpossiblegirl​

[ohnopoe]

Pride | Roxy Morton

Ship: Roxy Morton x female!Reader Summary: Your first Pride march with your girlfriend is your first Pride march in general, and it’s a little more overwhelming than you expected Word Count: 917 Warnings: Anxiety, overwhelming crowds Author’s Note: I’ve loved this beautiful character for so long and yet this is my first time attempting to write for her... yikes. Also the fact she’s brunette in this gif annoys me so much but I’m so tired so I just- I’m sorry. This is for @autumnleaves1991-blog​​‘s writer Wednesday and @flightlessangelwings​‘s 2k21 Pride Month… 

Colours, vibrant and ranging, seemed to explode before your very eyes, dousing everything they touched in all the shades of the rainbow. It was as if they bled from the flags that waved high above, painting their surroundings with joy and excitement like nothing you had ever felt before.

The street was loud, a cacophony of music and voices, chants and laughter, each sound a reminder of the person behind it. Thousands of strangers, all brought together, all sharing one moment in time and space.

Excitement melded with something unexpected, something so overwhelming that you couldn’t quite place it.

You were used to the noise, to the chaos of too many people to truly notice every detail. Years of training had you ready for just about any situation, and being surrounded by a mass of people should have been easy, and yet… it wasn’t.

Your first Pride march, and you couldn’t get out of your head for long enough to simply enjoy yourself.

Was it the uncertainty? The fact that you didn’t have Merlin watching your back through endless cameras? Was it the never dulling readiness that lay in the back of your mind, always prepared for the worst? Or was it something darker, a fear that you didn’t belong, a fear that even now, out and proud, you weren’t sure you belonged amongst those who had fought to belong?

Gulping, you did your best to push that thought down. Now wasn’t the time to doubt your place, to let those fears get the better of you.

Closing your eyes and doing your best to rid yourself of your doubts, to do a mental refresh, you tried to focus on the positives. Focus on the joy that was practically tangible as it did its best to soak through you. Focus on the way the group behind you attempted to sing along to the boom box they had brought along, shouting rather than finding anything near the actual tune of the old cassette that was working its hardest to blast Bronski Beat into the crowd. Focus on the feel of a soft hand slipping into your own.

The smile that slipped onto your lips was so natural, so normal, that you couldn’t help but open your eyes in response, seeking out the woman who never ceased to calm you.

Blonde hair framing her face, and a dress that was bought for fun, and completely ignoring the existence of the term ‘practicality’, Roxy Morton looked nothing like what you were used to seeing when you were in the field. Gone was the proper agent who could take down her foe in a mere matter of seconds, and in her place was a side of her that never ceased to amaze you.

Her smile grew with every second that you stared, happiness and pride mixing as she succeeded to steal you from the thoughts that were threatening to take over your mind.

It had been her idea to come, to enjoy your first Pride as a couple amongst the masses, and take a well earned day off in the process. She hadn’t realised at first that you’d never actually attended any Pride march, but from the moment she found out she had been nothing but supportive.

“You doing alright?” she asked with a raised brow, not letting her gaze fall from you for a second as she watched for your response.

It was always a little intimidating, knowing just how well she could read you. At first you thought it simply came with being a Kingsman agent, after all, you had been taught to read others fairly well in your own training. But Roxy didn’t have to read you, she never had to search for the truth hidden in your features, no, she knew you, seemingly from the moment you met.

With a small squeeze of her hand, you offered a reassuring nod. “Yeah, I just…” it would be so much easier if you could explain, but you could hardly figure it out yourself, let alone put it into words.

Leaning forwards, Roxy’s expression softened, her free hand reaching over to cup your cheek ever so gently.

Her forehead met your tenderly, and the chaos of the crowd still surrounding you suddenly didn’t feel so bad. The sound felt muffled, as if it were trying and failing to break through an invisible barrier that soaked up all that was trying to overwhelm you.

“I know,” she spoke softly, and even though the words were loud simply to be heard, they felt like a gentle caress, a whisper against your skin as you felt them hit you.

It hardly felt like a conscious decision as you moved forwards, breaking the already infinitesimal space between you. There was just something about her that drew you in, that had you craving her even when she was right there before you.

Your lips met slowly, as if your every movement was in slow motion. It was soft and tender, and surprisingly innocent. Neither made a move to deepen the kiss or seek out something more, each simply enjoying the tender love that lay in your kiss.

With another squeeze of your joint hands, Roxy watched, waiting until you met her gaze before speaking again.

“Hey,” she smiled so genuinely that you could see the gesture in every detail of her face, from the way her eyes twinkled, to the way her brow relaxed as she simply stared at you patiently. “I’m proud of you.”

[honey-dewey]

I HAVE A WRITER’S WEDNESDAY/PRIDE CELEBRATION POST LITERALLY WRITTEN AND EDITED I JUST CANT POST IT BECAUSE I HAVE NO WIFI BUT I PROMISE IT WILL COME OUT AND ITS SUPER ADORABLE I SWEAR.

[flightlessangelwings]

Pride Celebration Day 23: Heartbeat

Frankie Morales x fem!reader x Benny Miller

Word count: 800

Notes/Warnings: This is part of the Messy Pile of Affection universe, which I’m turning into a whole series! Just a little fluff drabble after their first night together in the middle of the night. Implied sexytimes, bisexual thruple, mostly just fluff and a little interlude before we get to the next chapter of this story! This drabble is technically a gn reader but the series is a fem reader.

~

It was the middle of the night when you woke up. Your body felt like it was on fire, and in the haze of sleep, you almost forgot why. But the weight and warmth of two bodies that you were currently wedged in between quickly reminded you. Benny and Frankie were sound asleep on either side of you, their limbs splayed over you and each other. 

You had never felt more safe and secure before, but at the same time, the two men were very warm and their arms and legs were heavy on your body. In order to shift yourself, you had to manipulate their limbs, so first you grabbed Frankie’s arm and repositioned it so that it laid on your hips. Next you reached down and nudged Benny’s leg so that he wasn’t crushing you and Frankie with his weight. Benny didn’t even wake up as he let out a louder snore and moved around in his sleep.

“Always restless, even in your sleep,” you said out loud to yourself as you watched your boyfriend.

A soft chuckle escaped your lips as you watched him get himself comfortable again. Benny was always a wild sleeper, so it was nothing new for you to have to give him a nudge in the middle of the night. Frankie on the other hand slept like a log, and he hadn’t moved at all since you all fell asleep together. You glanced between the two men before you placed a soft kiss on both of their cheeks and rested your head back down.

The world was still and quiet, and all you heard was the sound of two heartbeats. Every night when you fell asleep, Benny’s heart beat always lulled you off to dreamland. But tonight, you had two, and you had never had more affection for two people before in your life. Sure, the two bodies were very warm, but you also felt so secure. And, you couldn’t explain it, but it just felt right with the three of you together.

You let out a soft sigh as you admired the two men who slept on either side of you, blissfully unaware that you watched them both sleep. Frankie let out a heavy sigh as he nuzzled himself against the crook of your neck and held you tighter. You couldn’t help the smile that came across your face as he gave you an extra squeeze before his arm moved off your body and on to Benny’s and held tight to his arm.

“I’m glad you’re here with us,” you whispered to Frankie, breaking the silence in the room.

Benny in turn, mumbled something in his sleep and rolled around a few times until he draped his limbs across you and Frankie again. You let out a sigh and rolled your eyes as your hard work of moving him into a more comfortable position was completely undone in a matter of minutes. But, you couldn’t ask for anything more and you repositioned yourself once more and fell back asleep in no time to the sound of a heart beat on either side of you.

It wasn’t long after you fell back asleep that Frankie woke up to the sound of Benny’s snores. He grunted as he lifted his chest up to watch the younger man fast asleep on his back with his mouth wide open.

“Dammit Benny…” Frankie mumbled as he shoved him harder than you had earlier, but Benny still didn’t wake up. And thankfully neither did you.

Frankie looked down on both you and Benny, and it was in that moment that he realized that his arm laid out across both your bodies. He felt his face heat up when he realized that he must have reached out for both of you in his sleep, but Frankie couldn’t bring himself to let either of you go. For the first time in his life, Frankie felt right, and it was right here in bed with you and Benny.

He finally lifted his arm to stretch and roll his wrist around for a moment before he gently rested back on both your bodies. You let out a contented sigh in your sleep as you felt the comforting weight of Frankie’s arm once more. Much like you did when you woke up, Frankie leaned over and placed a soft kiss on your nose and Benny’s before he settled himself back down. Under his arm, Frankie felt the steady rhythm of two heartbeats, and although this was something new, he already knew this was something he wanted more of. And Frankie just hoped that you and Benny would feel the same way when you woke up in the morning. 

“Goodnight,” Frankie whispered to the both of you as he drifted back off to sleep.

[rayslittlekitten]

Taking Another Chance

Jey's Pride Celebration 2k21 Series

A/N: Sorry I’m late with this. This one was a bit challenging especially because I want to use all three prompts because I’m a masochist like that. This is week 4 of Writer’s Wednesday for @autumnleaves1991-blog and Jey’s 2k21 Pride Celebration for @flightlessangelwings collab. This a continuation from the week before Would You Ever? This is super duper short and a bit rushed but omg I teared up writing this. Goddamn it, Will!

Rating: G

Word count: 650

Pairing: Will “Ironhead” Miller x GN!reader

Contains: super fluff

Week 4 Prompts:  heartbeat and/or “someone will remember us, I say, even in another time” Sappho

“Someone will remember us, I say, even in another time.”

“What?” You look over at him, pulling off one side of your headphones.

“Sappho. You don’t know Sappho?”

“What is that?”

“You mean ‘who is that’.”

Will suggested the both of you to take a trip to Portugal for your dating anniversary. It seemed very random considering he’s never really expressed interest in traveling to Europe before, but you agreed it would be fun so you’re both on an airplane heading east. Will is killing time by reading apparently some Greek poetry. Not something you expected him to be into but he’s constantly surprising you. Meanwhile you’re looking through some Portuguese travel guide.

“Quinta de Monserrate. Sounds like a cool place to visit.” You point to it and show Will. “Ooh look. It looks so pretty. It’s a palace. It’s like straight out of a fairy tale.”

Will smiles at your excitement.

“You wanna go there?” Will asks.

“I mean, I’d like to if we’re able to. I don’t know if it’s anywhere near where we’re staying.”

Will had planned the whole trip.

“I’ll see if I can fit it into our itinerary,” Will says.

“You don’t have to if it’s inconvenient.”

“Nothing is ever inconvenient when it’s for you.” Will smiles.

“Stop!” You playfully shove him and feel the heat rising to your cheeks.

Will chuckles and pulls you in for a kiss.

***********************************

Will made it sound like it was no problem at all fitting in Quinta de Monserrate into your schedule. He dedicated an entire day to it and it actually so happens the two of you were staying not too far from it. You were worried it was on the other side of the country.

As the two of you walked around the place, you following Will, you stop in your tracks when you see the garden you saw in a bridal magazine you looked through when you were helping your sister with planning her wedding. It was more beautiful in person. It takes your breath away as you slowly walk around taking it all in, the greenery and stone architecture.

“What do you think?”

“Will, this is freakin’… I don’t know if I have the right words to describe—“ You stop mid-sentence when you look over to Will and find him beside you on one knee and holding out a ring in small jewelry box. You suddenly feel your heartbeat pounding against your chest.

“Y/N, I love you with all my heart. I’ve known you since we were kids and my love for you has only grown more and more each day. One of the best things I ever did was fly to New York City when I did because it led me back to you. Sure, Benny had a hand in it but he only brought us together in the physical space. That day we met up, I took a chance and I am so happy I did.” Will sniffles. “Now I cannot imagine a day without you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you and grow old with you.”

When you saw the photo in the magazine, you told Will that it looked like a romantic place to get married in, but you weren’t actually suggesting it. It was then you realize this was planned. He was bringing you here anyways. It was already in your itinerary.

“Y/N, will you marry me?”

You’ve already started crying and you have trouble speaking as you’re sobbing, but you nod.

“Yes,” you finally say. “Yes I’ll marry you.”

Suddenly you hear cheering from a few people around who witnessed the proposal.

With a smile on his face, Will gets up and wipes the tears threatening to fall from his eyes, then slips the ring onto your finger.

“I love you too,” you tell Will and then pull him in for a kiss.

[ladyblogger-margie]

Pride Parade

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes (MCU)

Summary: Sam goes to Pride and just happens to run into Bucky Barnes, his crush, while both navigate their roles in the LGBT community as bisexual men and Avengers. 

Warning: G-Rated. Kissing, brief mentions of drinking, brief mentions of homophobia. 

Word Count: 1191

a/n: Happy Pride all! This is for Writer Wednesday and Jey’s Pride Celebration 2K21 week 1. To any bisexuals who don’t feel welcome at Pride, we are part of this community and you don’t have to justify yourself or identity to anyone. You’re enough. 

MY MASTERLIST

Sam checked over his shoulder as he heard a squeal behind him, wondering if it was for him. It wasn't, it was just a girl who had run into her friends. He was Captain America, but he was here today as an out and proud bisexual man and he just wanted to feel part of the community and not have to be a symbol all the time. 

He didn’t come unprepared though. There had been reports of counter-protestors planning to disrupt today’s Pride Parade and he was not going to just slink away if that happened, he would stand strong against the bigots and protect his community. 

He was waving a flag and cheering for the non-corporate floats in support of local clubs and charities when he saw him. Bucky Barnes was stalking the parade, he’s eyes assessing the crowd across the street from where Sam stood under the baking sun. Even in this heat, Bucky was wearing a long sleeve shirt, trying also to blend in. 

Sam was curious about the state of Barnes and his presence here today, while the two were openly out with each other as their friendship had developed, neither had mentioned they would be at the parade today to each other. 

Sam didn’t want to make Bucky uncomfortable, but he also was too curious to help himself to find out why Bucky looked so serious. Sam saw a slim break in the parade and darted swiftly across the street to cut Bucky off in his prowl. 

Bucky was shocked to see Sam, but the cues to this were subtle and early in their friendship, Sam would have missed the slight widening of his eyes and the ever so slight stiffening of his shoulders. He recognized them now though, so it was clear to Sam that he surprised Bucky. 

“Weren’t expecting me?” Sam asked. 

“You didn’t mention you’d be here,” Bucky said with a shrug, avoiding eye contact. 

“Neither did you,” Sam said and Bucky tilted his head dismissively. 

“I’m not really sure I belong here,” Bucky admitted. 

“You’re bisexual, why wouldn’t you belong here?” Sam asked. 

“I’m too old, too out of touch,” Bucky explained, his eyes still scanning the crowd. 

Sam scoffed, “Oh come off it, the B in LGBT isn’t there for decoration. Frankly it’s the only credential you need.”

Bucky smiled, “I’m here in case those anti-protesters show up, I figure if I can help with that, I could stick around.”

Sam smiled sadly at Bucky, the only place Bucky fell into naturally was with Sam and his family. Everywhere else Bucky felt the need to earn love, attention and belonging and he either avoided trying all together, or tried so hard it broke Sam’s heart. 

“You could’ve asked me to come with you,” Sam offered. 

“You could’ve asked me,” Bucky replied. 

Sam nods his head, “Well, here we are anyway. Did you wanna patrol together?”

“You were just watching the parade,” Bucky said, holding back a smile.

“Do you want company or not, man?” Sam asked playfully, shoving Bucky’s shoulder. 

“Yeah, let’s walk,” Bucky said. 

The pair started walking, deliberately keeping their fingers from brushing against each other. Sam had done a lot of work trying to compartmentalize his feelings for Bucky. It was complicated enough being the Black Captain America, and it was complicated being bisexual and being Black, and being the Bi, Black Captain America crushing on a recently absolved war criminal would be just, a whole different level of complicated. Especially if Bucky didn’t feel the same. 

They were wandering along, keeping their eyes out for troublemaking bigots, but also people watching and smiling at the pure joy experienced by the community as they found strength and support in each other. Sam smiled when he saw a black teenage lesbian couple holding hands, and the sight of their strength gave him some strength of his own. 

“You happy you came?” Sam asked Bucky. 

Bucky smiled, “Yeah, I am. The company is better than I expected.”

Bucky looked at Sam as he said that and Sam’s heart fluttered in his chest. He broke eye contact quickly and looked around at the surrounding crowd. 

“Yeah, it’s great to feel part of something bigger than yourself, right?” Sam asked, deflecting, not allowing him to get his hopes up. 

“Right,” Bucky said with pursed lips. 

They continued to walk along, but Sam noticed the increased distance between their bodies, but tried not to think about it. 

Near the end of the block they left the parade route and ended up at the after party location where the music was already playing, but the crowd was still thin. 

They milled around, relieved they didn’t encounter any counter-protestors, but now a little unsure of what to do next. Before either of them could say anything though, they were interrupted by an eager 20-something with a camera and a badge dangling from his neck.

“Did you two want a couple portrait?” he asked them. 

Bucky froze as Sam chuckled, “We’re good, man, thank you though.”

“Come on, it’s free and you can download the photo when you get home, maybe print it, hang it up? You guys are so cute, you’d be perfect for a candid kiss photo!” the kid babbled enthusiastically. His energy was infectious and it had both Sam and Bucky relaxed and chuckling. 

“Oh all right,” Sam said, “If you want, that is.” He turned to Bucky who was wearing a smile.

“Pucker up, buttercup,” he teased. 

The photographer readied himself and Sam gave Bucky a quick peck on the lips. 

The photographer clicked away and looked at the image, “That was a quick one, I can do another?”

Bucky wrapped his arm around Sam’s waist and pulled him close. Sam looked up into his eyes and saw the longing there that he was sure was mirrored in his own. 

“Kiss me again, like you mean it,” Bucky said and it didn’t sound like a joke. 

It sounded sincere and desperate and Sam reached out to grip the base of Bucky’s neck and crash their mouths together. They were lost in each other, Sam felt that something clicked into place along with an overwhelming sense of belonging. This felt right and he was just so happy it seemed Bucky felt the same. 

When they pulled apart the photographer was smiling fondly at them. Then he handed them a ticket stub. 

“Here’s the details, you can get 1 free download, and if you want additional photos it’s by donation, plus you can leave a tip anytime” he explained, “Happy Pride!”

Bucky didn’t let Sam go as they watched the photographer find his next subjects. 

“We definitely need to tip that guy,” Bucky said.

“Google review too probably,” Sam answered. 

They laughed and pressed their bodies together. Bucky took Sam’s hand, and led him to the drink tent. 

“Let me buy you a drink,” Bucky said. 

“So this is a date then?” Sam asked. 

“I’d like it to be,” he replied. 

“Me too,” Sam said and followed Bucky to the drink tent, far more excited for the evening than he was just moments ago. 

TAGS: @autumnleaves1991-blog​

[lady-of-glass-and-bone]

Our Own Fairytale

For @autumnleaves1991-blog writer wednesday and @flightlessangelwings pride writing challenge.

Prompts: fairy tale and/or "I'm in love with you."

Pairing: Carrie White x female!reader

Warnings: Fluff, Carrie's mother is her own warning, angst-ish, mentions of bullying,

A/N: holy shit I love Carrie White with my whole heart and I just wanna hug her and give her all my love. That is all. What I listened to while writing: Don’t Say Goodbye - ALOK & Ilkay Sencan ft. Tove Lo / Physical - Dua Lipa / True Colors - Marina & The Diamonds

Sometimes, Carrie wondered what her life would have been like without you.

If your family hadn't moved into the house across the street from hers, if you both hadn't been the same age, if you hadn't ended up with nothing to do that first Summer while your ankle healed in it's cast.

Surely you would have found a group of kids (normal kids, her mind tells her, not like her) to run around and get into trouble you wouldn't be punished for with.

She wonders if those long days spent sitting on front porches and reading gossip magazines you’d snuck for her were all just a way for you to pass the time. If you really had as much fun as she did.

But even when school started and you went nervously but willingly onto the bus while she watched from her living room window, you waved at her. Smiling over your shoulder as you went.

Your smile always gave her butterflies, made her feel like she did when her mother was out and the house was calm.

Everyday she expected you to step off the bus onto the corner of the street and just walk right by her house, finally scared off by her mother or what the other kids at school had no doubt told you.

You seemed to be fearless though, in a way Carrie never dreamed she could be. You came by every day, rain or shine or snow and never let the shadow Margaret White cast in the doorway scare you off.

You never let the restrictions Ms. White (always oh so politely spoken) shrewdly laid down put you off.

Determined. That was what you were, Carrie decided one day. Not pig-headed or pushy or any other insult her mother tossed out about you. Just beautifully determined.

You wore what you wanted, did your hair the way you liked, and said what you felt, anyone who told you to pipe down and be a lady be damned.

It made Carrie less nervous when she was set to go to high school, the fact that you would be there beside her. You had been thrilled when she told you, practically lifting her off the ground in your excited hug.

The butterflies nearly threatened to spill out of her in words, words her mother said were a sin between two women. So she just held you tight and tried to burn the scent of your hair into her mind, the way your arms felt so right around her.

Then that awful day in the girls locker room happened. The blood, the taunting of the other girls, the fear. Why were they all laughing when she was dying?

All she wanted was you. You would know what to do, you would tell each and every one of them off for even snickering under their breath at her. But you weren't, gym wasn't a class you two shared and they all knew it.

Someone must have told you, taunted you with the story, because you had been waiting outside the principals office for her and Carrie had never seen you so furious as you demanded Ms Desjardin tell you what was going on.

That day you both walked home early, you insisted and Carrie had all but begged Ms Desjardin with her eyes to allow it.

It was a quiet walk, you gently promising to answer any questions Carrie had whenever she was ready to talk. Telling her you were there if she needed anything.

"I know" Carrie nodded, still looking intently down at the sidewalk.

"Hey, I really mean it" you tug lightly on her sleeve, getting her to meet your eyes "I know your mom doesn't talk to you about that kinda stuff and. . . I'm sorry I never asked if you knew about it or not. Today might not have happened."

Carrie can see the guilt now, hiding behind your concern and anger. She doesn't want you to feel responsible, not for this.

You make her feel safe, cared for beyond some obligation, you make her happy and it's suddenly like a torrent swirling in her chest, pulling her heart under in a riptide.

And it spills over, the butterflies bursting free.

"I'm- I'm in love with you."

Like always, she doesn't see your reaction coming, determined to be different.

"Yeah?" your smile is broad, growing by the second and it only gets wider when Carrie's cheeks flush red as she nods.

The butterflies have been replaced by the beating of birds wings against her ribcage, pounding and flapping erratically, clogging her throat.

"Good" you reach out to grasp her hand in yours "now I can ask you to prom early."

"Really? You would- you want to go with me?"

"Only if you want to" you nod at her wide eyes.

"Yes, that sounds wonderful" Carrie beams, letting out a laugh that sounds airy and free.

It's the most beautiful you've seen her, when she lets go like this, and you're determined to make her as happy as you can for as long as you can. For the rest of your lives if she wants. Like a fairytale.

[the-purity-pen]

Break All The Rules

Bishop Losa x AFAB!Bi!Reader (smut w/no pronouns)

Rating: Explicit AF (GET OUT MINORS) Warning: SMUT - unprotected PIV, vaginal oral, reader is a switch, wlw strap-on sex, sex work ( WE RESPECT SEX WORKERS IN THIS HOUSE AND IF YOU DON’T GET OFF MY BLOG ) Word Count:  A/N: i’ve FINALLY gotten around to writing for my beautiful @flightlessangelwings​’s Pride Event! (on the last week but hey, we did it).  you’ll see what prompt i used for it. And yes, there will be at least a second part to their story because i’m already in love with my new OC Valeria x Reader and I just... yeah. Please enjoy!

Your body moved in sync with Valeria’s. Dancing of the sinful kind that you always enjoyed with her. She was a lawyer and one of the best from the stories she would tell you in the aftermath. Stress was just part of her job description, and she admitted to you pretty early on that coming here wasn’t initially her plan, but she was glad she had found you because you knew her body better than she did herself.

This always worked in your favor because even right then, as your body beaded with sweat from pumping your hips against her ass, you could hear the whiny, high-pitched moans being pulled from her throat. The tell-tale sign that she was about to hit another high.

You leaned over and grabbed a handful of her curls. Her lips were as dry as the Sahara from all the panting she was doing, but she knew she was close and said as much. “That’s it, baby. Fucking take that cock. Look at you so pretty,” you cooed, just the way she liked to hear you talk. The praise kink was strong with this one. 

Your words threw her over the edge as she convulsed and came all over the beautiful emerald green strap-on you wore. You moaned out as you felt the way her body tensed around the toy and pressed the other end into you more, nearing your climax.

It was Valeria’s turn to moan softly and urge you to come. Her hand reached behind her as she tried to get at your clit, and when her slender fingers found it, you were toppled over her backside, moaning out how much you were coming.

----------------------------

“See you next week?” Valeria asked as she walked with you to the door of your room. When you reached the doorway and opened the door, she took a step out before you pulled her back for a soft kiss to the lips.

“You know it,” you replied, and she chuckled before turning to leave. Just as your eyes lifted to follow her form as she left, you saw Bishop standing there, wide-eyed with a grin. You narrowed your eyes at him but smirked and shook your head.

“You’re early, Obispo,” you told him as you beckoned him with your hand to follow you into the room. He closed the space in the hall before coming into your room and closing the door behind him quietly. You moved across the room, gathering up the discarded toys and bringing them over to a bin for washing and sanitizing later.

Bishop stood awkwardly, adjusting his kutte, debating on whether he should take it off or not. Finally, he shifted his weight and cleared his throat, and as you pulled the sheets off the bed, you turned to look at him with a cocked eyebrow.

“You good?” you asked as you pulled all the sheets together and wrapped them together. Then, you walked past him towards the laundry chute that was next to the door.

After tossing the sheets down, you turned towards him and saw his body language. As you made to walk by him again, you placed a hand over his that were holding his kutte. “Talk to me, Obispo. We got some time before your appointment time anyways,” you teased lightly as you smirked at him and kept walking over to the small dresser to pull out clean sheets.

You did your routine of spraying down the plastic mattress cover with disinfectant and wiping it clean before Bishop actually spoke. “Was that- um, was that one of your clients who just left?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the boy-like shyness that he asked the question with. “Yes. Val is one of my best customers,” you told him with a wink which made him grin. “I do enjoy the company of both male and female clients if that’s what you’re asking,” you told him as you flipped the sheets over the mattress and made them look nice and flattened.

Bishop’s eyes widened in interest when you affirmed what he was thinking. “That’s-” he paused, and you looked at him with a slightly concerned look. Of course, Bishop being older meant that he might not understand, and you knew from the stories that he told that he had only ever been with women. “That’s hot,” he blurted out, and you laughed.

“I’m glad you approve then. Maybe I’ll have a little get-together of my two best clients then, huh?” you offered as you sauntered towards him, untying your robe and letting it slowly slip off your body with each step.

Bishop groaned in approval at both your words and your actions. His hands immediately found your hips when you were within reach, and he leaned down to kiss your lips softly. You pulled back from the kiss before he leaned into it too much and wordlessly helped him shed his clothing.

His lips snarled when you left the front of him to move to the back to pull down his kutte and opened shirt down his arms. You kissed his shoulders, littered with scars, and you gave pause when you noticed a fresh mark where his kidney was on his back.

Your fingers instinctively touched it, and Bishop hissed quietly. “Rough job the other day,” he said blankly as he shrugged off the rest of the top half of clothes and quickly turned on his heels. His bare arms wrapped around you and pulled you right in so he could lean in to kiss you. And he kissed you hard.

Something about touching that new injury mark sparked him. He growled against your lips as he moved down to your neck and suckled a mark. Usually your rule was no marks, but there was no reasoning with him when Bishop got like this,.

A part of you loved it, though. Loved that he trusted you enough to get rough like this. Loved that he wanted to mark you as his even if you weren’t. You appropriately moaned when his hands came to your breasts and squeezed your nipples between his rough, calloused fingers.

You sucked in a breath when his mouth moved south along your collarbone, and you found yourself nearly losing your balance. Bishop noticed and stood up straighter. “Bed. Now,” he commanded huskily. Your heart hammered in your chest at the change of pace as you turned to walk towards the bed.

His hand smacked your bare ass before walking behind you and stripping his pants and boxers, freeing his already hard erection. You placed your hands on the bed slowly and wriggled your ass for him, looking over your shoulder to see the way the fire behind his eyes lit up.

He growled as he pounced, pushing your hips down onto the bed. You let out a soft “oof” as you hit the bed before you were giggling. His hands roamed over your body, squeezing and grabbing at every curve he could. Next, he ran his hands down your back to the back of your thighs, where he spread your ass cheeks and groaned.

“Such a pretty pussy for me, isn’t it?” he asked more to himself than you, but the words still turned you on. “So tasty, I bet,” he murmured, and before you could stop him, his mouth was attached to your clit from behind.

Your head dropped down to the bed as your hands attempted to grab at the clean sheets to ground yourself. Another rule Bishop was breaking: no oral on you. But his tongue and beard combination felt so good that you were already nearing your climax.

“Fuck! Bishop I-” you warned, but he was more than happy to drink you down as you came on his tongue. The more he fucked into you with his tongue, the more you soaked him. Finally, when two of his fingers pressed through your soaked folds, fucking into you hard and fast, you were done for.

He was hitting that spot within you that had you trying to pull your hips away from him as you squirted all over his face and chin and fingers, down to his wrist. You hadn’t ever had that happen with another person. You’d done it yourself, so you knew it was possible but not with another person.

Bishop only took a moment to pull away, his fingers still going at it, so he could tell you how fucking hot that was and that he wanted you to do it again. With the way his thick fingers filled you, it took nearly no time at all for you to soak him again, and he lapped all of it that he could. The rest simply soaked his body and sheet and down to the floor a bit.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby,” he groaned as he pulled away to watch his fingers disappear over and over again into your cunt. He was simply staring in amazement as you soaked him once more, and he could see it this time. “Holy shit,” he muttered as you cried out with your orgasm overtaking you, your body becoming jelly as you leaned over the edge of the bed.

“Bish- Bishop, please,” you whined as your cunt fluttered from overstimulation. Bishop chuckled darkly in response as he stood up slowly, running his hand over his cock to coat it generously in your juices. Then he leaned over to kiss along your back up to the back of your ear.

“You did good querido,” he chuckled again, and you puffed air out in a half-hearted laugh.

He helped you turn over slowly and up onto the bed more so you were laid in the middle of it. He climbed up your body slowly and kissed along the way, causing your skin to erupt in goosebumps with each pass of his lips.

When he reached your mouth, he kissed you and licked into your mouth without hesitation. At that moment, he realized just how much he adored coming to see you, how much he loved that you let him do what he needed to release his stress. As he leaned into you, you felt his cock against your thigh, and you moved your hips to grind against him gently.

He pulled away from the kiss and let a hand come to your throat. “No moving unless I say so,” he commanded in that tone, and you swore you could have cum just from that tone in his voice. His fingers squeezed just enough, and you nodded as you licked your lips.

“Fuck me then,” you challenged him with a smirk, and his hand tightened a bit more. Never enough to entirely cut off your airflow, but this rough play was exactly what he needed. Your smirk faded as you coarsely moaned out at his touch.

His free hand came down to stroke his cock, letting the tip just barely get wet through your folds. “You want me to fuck you, huh?” he asked, and when you didn’t answer right away, he loosened his grip on your neck. “Fucking answer me!” he commanded, and you looked at him with a devilish grin.

“You better fuck me until I can’t walk, Obispo,” you chided, knowing that being a smartass brat would only serve to turn him on. Just as you ended your sentence, Bishop thrust his cock into you, and you cried out, grasping at his back as he mercilessly fucked into you.

His cock stretched you even more than his fingers had, and it felt so good that you entirely forgot about a condom. Bishop was usually good about remembering, too but he was so lost in a haze of lust for you that he just wanted to feel the warmth of your cunt around his cock. You found that you didn’t mind because of some repressed feelings you held for the man above you.

And boy did he feel it. You were pulsing still from the previous orgasms and gripped him so hard with your inner walls that you could feel the ridges of his cock dragging just right with each thrust. You cried out with each push of his hips into yours as you felt your lower stomach wind up, ready for another wave to crash over you.

You uttered curses and praises of how good he felt, how talented he was at fucking you and how much you wanted to cum around his cock. Every praise that came from you just lit his fire that little bit more until he was fucking into with abandon, one hand on your hip and the other squeezing your breast and nipple.

Bishop was groaning with another handful of thrusts, and you felt the unmistakable feeling of him filling you with his cum. “Fuck! Oh Shit!” you cried out as your walls convulsed around him as you came again. The sounds of skin against skin and pants and moans filled the room as the two of your rode out your respective highs.

Bishop leaned over, relaxing against you, resting his head against your chest. As he softened within you, your eyes that were starting to flutter shut from exhaustion shot open. “Shit!” you shouted, and it surprised Bishop into sitting up.

“What? What? Are you hurt? What’s wrong?” Bishop hurriedly asked, lifting up and out of you as his hands gently roamed over your body in a panic. You shook your head and stopped his hands with your own.

“No, no, I mean. I’m okay. Ish?” you told him as he looked at your face in confusion. “We didn’t use a condom,” you told him, and the way his eyes busted open, erasing all signs of exhaustion and satiation, was almost comical.

“Shit. I mean- I’m clean. I swear. I just- Are you-?” His brain was moving so fast through thoughts that he couldn’t form complete, coherent sentences.

You brought a hand to the side of his face. “I’m good. Clean. Protected to, just in case,” you shrugged softly as your thumb ran along his jaw. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay with it. Since… well… that makes you an extra special client,” you told him as your eyes danced around his face.

“Yeah?” he grinned as he leaned down to kiss you gently. The kiss heated up quickly as the two of you intertwined again and rolled so that you were resting on top of him. You hovered your hips, letting your soaked and oversensitive folds just barely brush the top of his cock.

The two of you remained in the bed well past the end of his appointment time, but it didn’t truly matter as the end of your day was supposed to be after his appointment anyways. He also was determined to get you to soak him at least two more times. And you did.

----------------------------

By the time you were both spent, Bishop had his arm around you as he laid on his back and your head on his chest. Your finger traced his scars and drew some new nonsensical shapes.

Your brows furrowed for a second as you finally took the courage to fill the empty silence. “You’ve been in love, right?” you asked him quietly. He blinked his eyes a bit more open, for he had been drifting off to sleep.

He cleared his throat before answering. “Yeah. I have. Been married before cuz of it too,” he offered as a response. Your lips twisted slightly, and he shifted to lift his head to look down at you better. “Why?” he asked with furrowed brows of his own.

You chewed at your lower lip, avoiding looking directly at him. But he wouldn’t have that. “Hey,” he said softly as his hand came to your chin to make you look at him. “Why?” he repeated, and the look in his eyes told you he wasn’t going to let this go until you answered him.

“I-I think I’m in love,” you stuttered as a lone tear streaked down your face. “With you.”

Perm Tags: @bendro-pascarnes @mitchi-c @nebulastarr @artsymaddie @darklingveracruz  @phoenixhalliwell @sleep-tight1 @guiidiiosa @miraclemoreno @rae-gar-targaryen @autumnleaves1991-blog @niki-xie @princess76179 @amneris21 @marvelprincess1994 @littlestarfighter03 @kaqua @just1bri @teapartydreams

Mayans Tags: @thesandbeneathmytoes

[wordsnwhiskey]

As It Should Be Verse: Pride One Shot

A/N: Here we go another Writer Wednesday! Happy Pride everyone! Thanks to @autumnleaves1991-blog and @flightlessangelwings for putting this together!

This is how I envisioned Frankie and Jack's first Pride. It's got some mildly angsty things, bit of possessive Frankie but should be fluff overall. -Set in the future-

Rating: M - No Minors: this is solely for the allusions to Daddy kink & pup play. There are no graphic depictions but it's still kink.

Warnings: Mentions of PTSD, trauma responses, mentions of 'don't ask, don't tell, food mention, fleeting mention of Daddy kink & pup play but nothing graphic. That should be it, if I'm missing anything please let me know.

WC: ~3.2k

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x F!Reader x Frankie Morales

Prompt: "Kiss me again, like you mean it."

[AO3] [Series Masterlist] [Masterlist] [Art] [Taglist]

You felt the change in the weather deep in your soul. The return of the sun and heat were signs that summer was coming, and with it, Pride. You didn’t go to your first Pride festival until you were well into adulthood but it had been an unforgettable experience. The energy was infectious. You had been surrounded by a sea of people throwing away the prejudices of the world and being wholly, unapologetically themselves. It was one of those deeply emotional, almost spiritual, experiences that had made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. It filled your heart to the brim and made you feel like you were soaring. It was that feeling and sense of community that drew you back every year since that you could attend. The years you couldn’t go, you did small things to express yourself, your pride. A flag here, a pin there, time spent volunteering when you could, and whatever else you could manage.

This year was the first time you would have the chance to take your boys to Pride and you wanted to give them that same magical experience you had.

You looked over at Frankie, he was seated in the Stickley leather recliner next to Jack who sat in an identical recliner. They shared an ottoman and ate their takeout while you hogged the couch and picked at the remnants of your own dinner. You remembered the day you and Frankie came out to each other. It was entirely accidental and still somewhat bittersweet.

You were both in Delta Force and you couldn’t afford to fuck up and get discharged. Don’t ask, don’t tell. You, Frankie, Santi, Benny, Will, and Tom were at a bar having a couple of beers and you had thought you were being careful, not careful enough though. Frankie had caught you checking out another woman… After all, he had been checking her out too. She was immediately forgotten though when you and Frankie made eye contact.

Looking back, the way his brow furrowed and he cocked his head was adorable, but you were far too caught up in your fear to even consider that at the time.

His eyes widened in realization but then he quickly schooled himself to keep the rest of the guys from noticing and threw you a warm reassuring smile. Frankie jerked his head for you to follow him to get another beer from the bar.

“You too?”

“Me too?” You blinked, mildly in shock as you processed what Frankie had said. He grew more and more flustered by your lack of response as the seconds ticked on.

“Oh, fuck. I uh- I thought you… for both… I’m sorry, never mind. I just-”

You placed a hand on his arm and chuckled.

“Fish, yes, me too. I just didn’t know… you too.”

The two of you laughed, full of nervous relief. That was the first day you admitted to yourself, you had feelings for him. You felt safe with him, and he accepted you for who you were.

Years later, when you were ready to come out to the rest of the guys, less Tom, Frankie stood by your side even though you had nothing to fear. Santi smiled and hugged you then shook his head saying they already knew but would keep it quiet from Tom. They knew about Frankie too, sometimes family was just like that, but they waited until he was ready to come out to say anything.

“Loves, I was thinking…” Two pairs of bespectacled brown eyes looked up at you. “It’s almost June, which means it’s almost Pride.” Jack and Frankie shared a glance then looked back at you, waiting for you to continue. “And I thought it would be nice if we went to Pridefest together this year.”

Their momentary silence and dumbfounded looks broke your heart. You knew it wasn’t shame that drove their hesitation. The three of you didn’t hide your relationship. No, but learned caution and apprehension died hard.

“That sounds fun, darlin’.”

“I dunno, querida.”

They spoke at the same time and Frankie frowned.

“Mis amores... I want to go. I’ve never been, but you know crowds are hard for me.”

Frankie took his glasses off and fiddled with the bullseye tattoo on his hand. Years spent relearning to manage his trauma without narcotics had given him tools and coping mechanisms, but there were still some situations that made him feel like frayed wire, a raw nerve for the plucking. A crowd was one of those situations that tended to aggravate… everything, but he was tired of feeling held captive by his own brain.

“It’s ok if you don’t want to go, Fish. If you do want to try, we’ll be right there with you.”

There was another beat of silence but you and Jack knew to wait it out. Frankie sometimes needed just a moment of silence to do a self-inventory.

“When is it?”

“Two weeks from now.” You responded, this was a pattern you were well familiar with.

“Ok.” Frankie nodded and smiled, the weight of the decision lifted off of his chest for the moment and excitement replaced it.

“Great! Oh! I have something for both of you.” You got up from your spot on the couch and grabbed two little bi flag pins you had bought earlier. “I was going to give these two you both whether we went or not.”

Frankie took the pin from your hand and felt something electric run up his arm. He took his hat off and pinned it to the front. It was a small reclamation of his pride, an expression, after his years of hiding himself.

Jack took his pin from your hand too and rolled it over in his palm pensively. He stood up with a grunt and went to where his leather jacket hung then pinned it to the lapel. Aside from his stint in the Air Force, he had never hidden who he was. He hadn’t exactly advertised it either. He had never seen a need to proclaim it or shout it to the sky. Jack went for what and who he wanted unapologetically and if someone had something to say about it, well, he dealt with it. The pin, small as it was, was the first time he had ever worn anything Pride related. It made him consider why it had taken him so long. Sure, it wasn’t necessary, he wasn’t any more bisexual now than he had been, but he wondered if his hands off approach had led him to miss opportunities to help, to throw his voice and influence into the discourse.

A few days later, Jack proposed a campaign for Statesman to donate 10% of June’s revenue to various LGBTQ community resources and non-profits that he had taken the time to personally research. The Board agreed wholeheartedly.

It wasn’t perfect, and Jack knew that throwing money around didn’t solve the issues at hand, but he hoped it was a step in the right direction and that their donations would help bolster programs in place to make a difference.

Finally the day arrived and to say you were excited would have been an understatement. Frankie gave you a bashful smile when he pulled out the bi flag handkerchief he had bought and tied it around his neck. Jack wore his pin on his lapel, he hadn’t removed it since it had gone on. He grabbed a dark green handkerchief that came in the pack Frankie had bought and tucked it in the left back pocket of his jeans.

“Never know when you might need one.” He shrugged, but really you thought maybe he just didn’t want to feel left out.

“Alright boys, are you ready? Do you have water bottles?”

Frankie held up two, one for him and one for Jack. It was already understood that the only liquid Jack carried on his person was the whiskey in his belt buckle flask. You grabbed your own water bottle then headed down the elevator.

There were people everywhere and the city was nearly vibrating with energy. It was a gorgeous day for Pride, hot but with a cooling breeze brushing over the sea of attendees who were gathering for the parade and festivities. The people around them were waves of rainbow clothing, pride flags and unadulterated self-expression. It was intoxicating, exhilarating and it wrapped around Frankie and took Jack by the lapels of his jacket. From the look on their faces, if you asked them, you imagined they’d tell you that it felt like flying.

They both seemed to be settling into the cacophony around you, the smiles on their faces crinkling around their eyes. You and Frankie leaned over the railing separating the crowd and those in the parade while Jack stood with a hand on yours and Frankie’s backs, watching the floats and river of people wander by. Frankie leaned in and kissed you. Jack smiled down at the both of you and kissed the tops of your heads.

“Having fun Honeybees?”

Frankie’s ears went red at the nickname Jack had taken to calling you and him, even if it did tug at his heart… just a little.

“It’s amazing, I can’t believe this is what I’ve been missing. All of these people… we’ve all come a long way to get here.”

“Sure have, Flyboy. It’s not the same as seeing it on the TV either. It’s all here ain’t it? The sadness, the mourning, the happiness and the love. It’s incredible, sweetheart.”

It was easy and sweet, Frankie’s arm brushing against yours, his fingers wrapped over yours and the reassuring weight of Jack’s hands on your back, of his presence. A private moment just for the three of you in the midst of the beautiful chaos of Pride.

It was a private moment of serenity that was shattered by a backfiring float and momentary panic in the crowd. All in all, it lasted no more than a minute but it was enough that Jack noticed you were anxiously tapping your index finger against your thumb to your own imaginary beat and Frankie was pressing on the pressure point under his bullseye tattoo. He rubbed yours and Frankie’s backs then turned you both to face him, as he lowered his voice to a soothing, low, honeyed rumble.

“Whoa, easy there, my sweet little Honeybees, don’t y’all go on buzzin’ away from me, now. Let’s go find us somewhere y’all can take a break, get some shade and drink some water, hmm?”

It wasn’t a question and that was something both you and Frankie were grateful for. The both of you were too focused on grounding yourselves. Jack kept talking to the both of you, the crowd seemed to melt before the three of you, despite nothing seemingly outwardly wrong with you or Frankie, or at least it must have, because you didn’t bump into anyone as Jack led you to one of the small vendor tents. You couldn’t see it, but it had everything to do with the hard look Jack gave anyone in your path.

Thankfully, things were calmer by the tents and Jack took the water bottles from Frankie and made sure the both of you took steadying swigs. After a bit, the oncoming oversensitivity began to dissipate and Jack smiled when you and Frankie let out small sighs of relief.

“There are my little Honeybees. Feeling better?”

Frankie nodded first and he pulled you in for a hug with Jack.

“I’m ok.” Frankie answered, his voice muffled by Jack’s chest.

“I’m good. What would we do without our cowboy?”

Jack chuckled and kissed the top of your head then kissed Frankie’s temple.

“Do you want to go home, or do you want to get some food and give the rest a shot?”

You looked to Frankie and he nodded.

“I want to try staying, if you’re up for it, bonita?”

“Ok, let’s follow your nose for some food then, Fish.”

The three of you joked that Frankie and his nose always found the best places to eat and there were certainly plenty of good vendors to choose from at Pride. The street that the fair was on was packed so it was slow going but Frankie was following his nose towards the smell of grilled meat. None of you seemed to mind the pace, you were all far too taken with the vibrancy around you and in stealing kisses from one another. Frankie slung his arm over your shoulders as you walked and Jack did the same with Frankie, his fingers teasing at Frankie’s handkerchief. Was it a little awkward walking at the same time? Sure. Was it hard to walk together and not trip? Yes. Did you care? Hell no.

As the three of you made your way down the street, Frankie tensed and looked over to his left where he saw a younger, much slimmer man than him come around from behind and strike up a conversation with Jack about his Stetson.

You followed his gaze, a bemused smile tugged your lips and you raised an eyebrow at the man in rainbow mesh shorts and a crop top. Jack brushed him off and the guy left soon enough. Sure it was bold, but no harm, no foul. Frankie on the other hand had narrowed his eyes immediately, clearly not as amused as you were.

The second time it happened, you were still amused but raised an eyebrow again at Jack when he looked at you then he shrugged after he had effectively brushed him off.

Frankie had moved his arm from around your shoulders to hold your hand, clearly slightly annoyed and no longer feeling as lax as he had before. You knew that Jack had yet another ‘visitor’ hitting on him when you felt Frankie’s fingers twitch around yours. This time you breathed a mildly exasperated sigh into existence.

“C’mon, Whiskey,” The edge of Frankie’s voice cut through the middle of the visitor’s flirtations. He took Jack’s hand in his own then tugged him off towards their destination. A smile brightened Jack’s eyes and he saluted the other man being left in their wake as he allowed Frankie to tug him along. It was cute when his Flyboy got a bit possessive.

“What the fuck is going on? People are usually a lot more respectful than this. It’s pretty fucking clear that you’re with us.”

Frankie grumped and you did your best not to laugh. Your Flyboy would deny it but while there was no jealousy between the three of you, he struggled seeing others openly flirt with you or Jack.

“I don’t know, it is pretty weird, Whiskey. It was funny at first but something's gotta be going on.”

Jack shrugged and thumbed over the back of Frankie’s hand that was holding his own hand.

“Honest, Honeybees, I don’t know what’s going on here but it’s nothing I’m doing.”

Frankie was about to turn and apologize to Jack for his grumpiness but they’d not made it not two minutes, when a blonde man stopped them and Frankie practically growled.

“What do you want? He’s obviously with us and not looking for someone.”

He took a step in between the blonde man and Whiskey then crossed his arms. The man looked confused and his gaze flickered over the three of you.

“Oh… Oh, you don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?” Whiskey asked, wondering what sort of blunder he’d made.

The blonde man held a hand up to Frankie and gestured for him to step back. “Call off your pup, first.”

Frankie stood slack-jawed for a moment then narrowed his eyes. “What? I’m not-”

A surge of what Frankie considered to be anger ran through his veins.

“It's alright, Flyboy. Just take it easy, he’s not worth it.” Whiskey said, rubbing Frankie’s back as he gently tugged on Frankie’s shoulder to stand next to you and him.

Satisfied, now that he was no longer being stared down at by Frankie, the blonde man continued. “You have a hunter green hanky in your left pocket… The hanky code? It means you’re a Daddy, and it usually means you’re looking.” He left with a small smirk and laughed at the ridiculousness of it.

Jack coughed, his face almost cartoonish in his surprise and you fell to pieces, laughing even harder when Frankie growled and ripped the hanky from Jack’s pocket then shoved it in his own pocket, out of sight. He shook his head, a grin poking through his grumpy exterior.

“How are you always trouble, Jack?”

“It’s a talent of his, Fish, you should know that by now.”

Rather than refute the indomitable truth, Jack leaned in and pecked Frankie on the lips. He grunted, eyebrows scrunched together when Jack pulled back.

“Kiss me again, like you mean it.”

It was an unnecessary challenge, but one Jack was more than happy to rise to. He stepped and snatched Frankie’s cap off of his head then ran his hand over Frankie’s shoulder to cup his neck and kissed him. It started tenderly then Jack demanded access to Frankie’s mouth with his tongue and Frankie let out a surprised moan.

Jack chuckled when he pulled back and this time all he got in response was a dazed look in Frankie’s eyes. “I love you, Flyboy. Feel better now?”

Frankie grabbed his hat from Jack’s fingers and smirked. “Yes… and I love you too Jack.”

“C’mere sweetheart, wouldn’t dream of leaving you out of the fun.”

Jack tugged you into him and you giggled, smiling into his kiss.

“Love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too, cowboy.”

You grabbed your boys by their shirts then and tugged them along before the three of you caused even more of a traffic jam in the sea of people.

Finally free of any other interruptions, the three of you were able to get some food and sit down. You all dug in, and enjoyed a few moments of people watching. Your foot nudged Frankie’s leg and he looked up from his food.

“You doing ok, Fish?”

He had been staring at a particular grain of rice for a while and looked up at you and Jack with a sheepish grin.

“Uh yeah, I think I was just really hungry and still a little raw from earlier. I shouldn’t have snapped though.”

“You sure that was all of it, Flyboy? The way you puffed up with that blonde fella, sure didn’t seem like it. Looked more like you were a little jealous, maybe just a bit feral? He did call you a-”

“Let’s just make sure next time you’re not flagging that you’re a…a- that you’re looking for, uh-”

Frankie cut Jack off before he could finish but then turned red as he stumbled over saying the word ‘daddy’. You decided to save him from Jack’s teasing.

“It was actually kind of cute to watch, baby.”

Frankie bit his lip then kissed your knuckles and playfully shoved at Jack’s shoulder. You leaned forward and cupped Jack’s cheek and he kissed the inside of your wrist. “This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind for your first Pride experience but I hope it wasn’t too bad.”

Both Jack and Frankie scoffed.

“Baby, you couldn’t have guessed those things would happen but us here, eating and watching people go by? This is nice, I wouldn’t change anything if it meant we’d end up here.”

Jack nodded in agreement and pulled you in for a kiss.

“Thank you, for getting us out here to see all of this, cherry pie. Not counting the hiccups, being here in the thick of all this, with everyone being themselves… well shit, it’s damn near the most freeing thing I’ve ever felt.”

Frankie nodded and leaned into Jack. “We should come back next year, bonita.”

You smiled, next year, you’d definitely be back for Pride next year.

Thank you for reading and Happy Pride! Reblogs & Comments are much appreciated!

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[artemiseamoon]

The Calmness of Space

Nebula x f reader

Words: 1,030 | Credit to GIF owners (one is mine)

Part of @autumnleaves1991-blog Writer Wednesday & Jey’s Pride celebration @flightlessangelwings

Warnings: if you are familiar with infinity war & end game, similar warnings to that. Main warnings: mentions of abuse,  thanos is a dick of a father, mourning.

The Nebula you met before, and the Nebula you know now are two different beings. Though it was a fate no one wanted, being stuck in space with her and Tony formed a bond between the three of you. Especially you and Nebula.

You always had a soft spot for her, where everyone else saw this angry assassin, you saw her pain, her hurt. You saw the armour she put up to hide years of abuse by her father, and those around her.

You saw, deep in her eyes, behind her steely demeanor she was lonely, and scared, and most of all heartbroken. So she played her given role, warrior, and shoved everything else deep down.

Each time Thanos removed part of her to make her as strong as her sister, each time he set her in competition with Gamora, he only deepened Nebula's wounds. But, none of this came from her own lips: it was observation, observation and that deep empathic knowing between the both of you.

As you kept busy on the ship with games, repairs, and building things, Nebula started to ask you questions. It was cute how direct and innocent they were.

Nebula was as curious about you as you were her. Those little chats soon turned to full conversations, at least full in Nebula's sense. She didn’t say much, but she said a lot with the words she did use.

One night, when you could tell she was having a hard time, you gave Nebula a hug. She even accepted it, awkwardly but willingly hugging you back. Eventually, Nebula grew to like hugs, they became less awkward and she had adorable little ways to hint that she wanted one.

Lost in space you gained a new best friend, and maybe something more, you didn’t know. You only knew one thing for sure, you would try your best to make sure Nebula knew she wasn’t just this killing machine, a tool. You wanted to make sure Nebula knew she matters.

As unknown time passes, and the air and food starts to run out on the ship, the three of you know you have a limited time left. This would be the end, but at least you weren’t alone.

…

It was still hard to believe when help came, and to be on Earth again felt strange. But there was no time for adjustment, there was work to do after the Snap.

After one of the meetings with the team to discuss the plan, you step outside for some air. It was overwhelming, everything that happened was hitting you at once. In some ways, you missed the calmness of space.

Nebula joins you, standing to your left. When you turn to look at her, those large dark eyes are fixed on something ahead.

“What if we don’t make it through this?” Nebula asks softly, the hint of worry in her voice is evident.

You want to tell her it will be fine, that everything will be okay, but you know you can’t promise that. Your heartbeat is in your chest, it's been hard to shake the anxiety you've had since returning.

You feel the cool metal of her hand as she reaches for your fingers. You lace your fingers through hers and hold her hand.

Neither of you speak for a moment, the breeze picks up and you can see the beginnings of storm clouds in the distance.

You take a breath and try to calm your heartbeat.

“Maybe we won’t,” you turn your head to face her, “but, even if we don't. There's this saying from Sappho I really like...maybe that may soften the uncertainty of it all.”

Nebula tilts her head, a curious look in her eyes.

You give her hand a little squeeze as you smile, “someone will remember us, I say, even in another time”

Nebula looks up at the sky, you can see her repeating the words to herself. You grin as she makes eye contact again.

“I like that. Tell me about this, Sappho.”

…

After

Nebula POV

She's never seen something so beautiful, or knew such a place existed. Nebula's world was hard, sharp, loud, violent. This place was none of those things, it was soft, gentle, quiet.

When you told her you would take her to the most beautiful place in the northern galaxy, she didn’t believe you. Not that she didn’t trust you, she did, Nebula trusted you more than she ever trusted anyone. But for such a place to exist? She didn’t think it was real.

But you made it, you fought and survived. Everyone lost so much in the process, on top of the loss from before, but Thanos was finally dead. Nebula was finally free, really free.

It was like she held her breath her whole life and now, now she could finally breathe. She could finally feel the air in her lungs. Now, after all this time, Nebula was really alive.

As Nebula trails behind you, watching you run your fingertips over the lush green bushes, she feels that sensation in her chest again. That strange one that happens around you, only this time it's stronger than ever.

When you glance back at her, Nebula offers a small smile and catches up. Reaching your side, she leans into you as you both gaze at the pond.

Light isnt a word she ever really thought about, but Nebula felt that way when she was next to you. Then there was the nervousness, no one even made her nervous, but you did. She smiles again and feels half silly for it.

“Can we stay here?” Nebula asks, glancing over at you.

“We can stay however long you want.” You reply.

Nebula reaches for your hand and rests her head on your shoulder. Everything goes quiet, neither of you feeling pressure to speak. But it's perfect, welcomed, just the thing you need after everything.

Nebula tags: @insomniamamma @nargelsquibbler

@autumnleaves1991-blog @flightlessangelwings thanks for hosting this!