different kinds of kisses

Prompt no 14. “First Kiss” - Kind of a Sequel to this pic. Have a shocked/surprised Mattsun. <3

Took surprisingly long before that prompt got claimed. @harvestmoonpeoples grabbed it for more MatsuHana. (I promise the next pic will be a different ship lol)

Petition for there to be more platonic kisses among everyone in Team Voltron

  • It starts mostly with the Garrison trio cause they’re the most open to each other and physically affectionate together
    • Big Hunk smooches on Lance’s and Pidge’s cheeks
    • Playful Lance pecks in places that’ll get him the best reactions like behind Hunk’s ears or the back of Pidge’s neck
    • Sleepy Pidge kisses to Lance or Hunk’s temples when they find her in the workshop in the middle of the night and carry her back to bed
  • Then Shiro gets in on the action
    • Shiro ducking down to press his lips to the top of Pidge’s head when she’s upset and missing her family whispering “don’t lose hope” into her hair
    • Shiro affectionately ruffling Lance or Hunk’s hair after a job well done and pulling them in for a “congratulations/glad you’re back safe” kiss to the temple or forehead
    • They return the kisses too of course, peppering his cheeks/forehead/temples/nose/whatever with little pecks that say “thanks for looking out for us” and “we appreciate you” and “you’re important to us” and “it’s ok to not be ok” and “we’re here for you”
  • Keith is the last one to get in on the kisses, just because it takes him a little longer to feel comfortable with that kind of physical affection, and the others respect his boundaries
    • Hunk is the first one to smooch him, sweeping him up after a particularly grueling battle where Keith’s warning saved him from being pulverized, planting a big wet one on his cheek in gratitude and relief
      • ((He pulls away quickly at Keith’s surprised look and starts apologizing but Keith cuts him off and says it’s ok))
    • Pidge giving him a little comfort kiss when they’re both up in the middle of the night missing Shiro and Keith returning it without thinking
    • Lance laying the biggest, soppiest kiss he can manage on him to break him out of his head when he gets too focused on a problem, cackling at his shout of indignation
      • ((This of course leads to a chase through the Castle which ends with Keith blowing raspberries into Lance’s stomach, followed by a little thank you peck to show he knows what Lance did and he appreciates it))
    • And of course, when they finally get Shiro back Keith holds him tight, lips pressed to Shiro’s shoulder, Shiro returning the hug just as hard and giving Keith an “I’m home” kiss to the temple
  • The Alteans also adopt the custom at some point 
    • Coran dropping proud kisses onto Pidge’s head when she assists him with something, or worried kisses on Lance’s forehead when he gets injured (again), or excited kisses when Hunk figures out how to fix something that was giving him trouble, or “I understand what you’re going through” kisses when Shiro comes to him with nightmares in his eyes, or comforting kisses when Keith feels overwhelmed with all the responsibility he’s taken on
    • Allura has adopted the “good luck/come back safe” kisses. Once she realizes it’s not a big deal she starts sending them off on big missions with kisses to the cheeks, much to Lance’s delight
      • It takes her a while to relax into giving different kinds of kisses; her royal upbringing and self-appointed role as commander dictate she should hold herself in check around the others. But eventually she starts showing her more playful side and starts giving and accepting kisses more often, for everything from teasing to comfort to  fetching something
Forehead Kisses - Newt Scamander Imagines.

I love forehead kisses like. There are so many forehead kisses? FOREHEAD KISSES WITH NEWT WOULD LITERALLY KILL ME. I feel like he’s a Forehead kiss sort of guy.

  • “I won’t be too long.” Newt’s voice was on the lighter side this morning, almost as if the way the sun peaked into the room gave him a complete and utter sense of tranquility. Giving a rather warm peck to your forehead, he tucks back some of your hair before resting his case on the ground and opening it. It’s a fluid action, and he moves rather smoothly and you found yourself almost fixated on the way his hands moved around his case. Skillful action, he’s done it a thousand times, maybe even more. Attention is drawn back to his entirety as he takes a step into the case. He looks back at you momentarily, his eyes locking with yours.
    Lets his gaze linger on you for a few seconds more before disappearing into the case you felt your breathing regulate. Moments like that, with a sort of eclectic rush and painted movement given by Newt always left you breathless.
    • An equivalent to the forehead kiss of “I’m late for work, kiss for you, and out the door”.
    • A lot easier than saying “bye”, something Newt doesn’t particularly enjoy. Goodbye’s, whether long term or short term, are goodbye nonetheless.
  • Instances where the two of you are sharing a bed, or simply cuddling there is a lot of embracing one another. He’ll tuck some of your hair away from your face, gazing down at you. From the position he’s in, he can’t clearly see your expression but given the chance to guess, Newt figured you were content in his arms. Craning his head down, he kisses the side of your head and presses his face into your hair. His skin tickles yours. Newt senses you smile before it turned into a soft chuckle. He holds you tighter, but not uncomfortably so. There’s something tender and warm about holding another person so close, about feeling their heart beating under your fingertips. It’s a raw sensation, stripped to the very center of the emotion running wild in both your minds.
  • Occasions where you feel completely helpless and find yourself leaning against his body in search of some sort of security. He smells like his case. Not awful, but more homely and more nurturing than anything else. A sublime mixture of tea, herbal medicine and strangely enough, fresh dirt from a far away in the countryside. The sudden defenselessness you were exhibiting set off alarms in his mind, and with feathery movement, Newt wraps his arms around you. Your knees finally give way after finding support and your face digs itself further into his peacock colored jacket. You smelt something else now, something that always helped you calm down. Newt had a certain scent that you hadn’t been able to describe, and the closest you came to describing it was as ‘A farm in the early morning. It’s quiet, there’s work to be done, and there’s only so much time in the day to get it done.’ You know it’s not a smell, but there’s almost a distant memory associated with it.

    Unbeknownst to you, Newt is feeling equally as helpless at the moment. You’re in his arms, crumbling so it seems and he’s no way of telling why you’re so melancholy. He takes a deep breath in and does what he thinks it right, a sort of instinct he always possessed. Kissing your hairline ever so gently, he spoke in a soothing tone, “It’s alright, I’ve got you…” He knows you’ll talk to him when you’re ready to be heard. But for right now, this was what you needed.
  • Newt having different sort of forehead kisses. The kind that aren’t completely center, and lean more towards the right or left. Usually happens when he’s in a hurry and leaves you with an unexpected forehead peck.
    • Kisses directly above your eyebrow. You’re both laying down, the sun hasn’t even risen yet and there’s almost a dreary sense of doom impending because you do not want to get out of the warm bed. Newt has only been awake for a couple minutes, still trying to process waking up. He knows you’re beside him. Without opening his eyes, he leans over and puckers his lips. The kiss hands directly above your right eyebrow. His lips curl against your skin as he pulls you closer. A few more minutes wouldn’t hurt.
      • Kisses that land more on the side of your head. A mindless, affectionate action. Happens with he’s not paying complete attention and his mind is somewhere else.
  • Attentive forehead kisses. Newt’s fingers are cupped on your jawline to keep you in place. His beautiful green eyes are staring right into yours. In the lighting, you can see his pupils dilating, you could almost count the freckles that lined his cheeks, and you could see the different colors swirling in his eyes. They weren’t completely green and seemed to hold hues of yellow and maybe even gold. Newt’s that close to you. Biting his bottom lip, he seems to be contemplating what to do before bending your head down slightly and craning his down to give you a gentle kiss to your forehead. The motion says, “I love you, you know that.“
    You raise your hands to place them on his before stepping forward. You kiss him gently, lips pressing in the slightest to tell him that you love him too.

I expected to write more but darn these are actually pretty long lmao. Thank you for reading! Reblogs and likes are appreciated! Stay tuned for more Newt Scamander + other FBAWTFT fics!

8

Fired! After years… years of hard work. And ass kissing. Oh God, I kissed so many different kinds of asses.

anonymous asked:

So...Can we please have a demisexual Maggie who's never been close enough to any of her girlfriends to develop sexual feelings for them but she's actually opening up with Alex and stuff and eventually realizes that she's actually reached that point for the first time in her life which leads to her and Alex sleeping together for the first time and it's all super emotional and shit. (My grandmother told me she wants me to see a therapist so I can "get over" being demi and I kinda need validation.)

She doesn’t panic when it’s just kissing.

Kissing is nice.

And kissing Alex Danvers is spectacular.

So she doesn’t panic when it’s just kissing.

She loves when it’s just kissing.

And Alex is aggressive in the way she starts things, the way she pulls Maggie into her body – at the bar, in her living room – and puts her lips on hers, but Alex always freezes, like she doesn’t quite know what to do next, like she’s on overload.

Like maybe, she’s like Maggie. Like maybe, she doesn’t know Maggie well enough yet to want to do anything more with her.

Anything more sexually, that is. Because god, does Maggie want to do everything else with Alex.

Late night pizza and Netflix, rainy morning yoga, kissing and cuddling until they fall asleep, shooting pool until Maggie finally can win, movies and books and science and the job.

Saving the world.

Together.

Maggie wants all of it, and apparently – to her perpetual disbelief, because how could someone so powerful, so gorgeous, want her? – Alex wants all that with her, too.

And it’s gradual.

It’s gradual, the way Maggie starts wanting different kinds of intimacy. With Alex.

Gradual, the way she realizes that she’s kissing her deeper, that her hands are slipping under Alex’s shirt, that Alex’s body is arching in response to her touch and her own body catches fire at the sound of Alex’s soft moans.

That she’s breathing her own moans into Alex’s parted lips.

And that’s when Maggie panics.

Because Alex is going to leave.

Maggie’s sure of it.

Because Alex has been teasing – a lot – about how inexperienced she is, about how much experience Maggie must have, how Maggie should feel free to give her kissing tips, touching tips, ladies-loving-ladies flash cards, whenever she wants.

But Alex has slept with men. Not that she loved it, or even liked it.

But Maggie? Maggie hasn’t slept with anyone.

She’s never… wanted to. She’s never felt close enough to anyone, never known someone enough to feel for someone else what she does to herself with her own hands, alone, when she needs to cum before falling asleep.

She’s never wanted to, not with anyone else, but with Alex?

God, with Alex, she’s starting to… to want everything.

But when Alex finds out? That Maggie’s just as inexperienced as Alex is, in some ways moreso, that she’ll probably be an emotional mess – not to mention a physical one – if they keep going in this direction, if they keep taking off each other’s shirts and touching each other over bras and panting at grinding their thighs between each other’s legs?

She’ll leave for sure.

Right? Because everyone leaves. Because Maggie drives everyone away.

“Whoa, whoa, hey, you alright? Did I hurt you?” Alex is asking, jolting her out of their kiss, her thoughts, her terrors, her fears. And, apparently, her shaking.

Alex’s eyes are wide, concerned, and Maggie knows, knows, that even though Alex is amazing, she’s going to think Maggie’s broken. Going to think Maggie needs to get over it. Going to think Maggie’s weird and unworthy and too much, and she should have her coming out affair with someone who can have sex with whomever, whenever.

“I want you,” Maggie chokes out in a whisper, and it’s the first time she’s ever said it to anyone, because getting herself off at night is one thing, but sleeping with another person is completely, completely another.

They’re the scariest three words she’s ever said, and Alex? Alex just smiles, strokes her hair, kisses her forehead.

“You have me,” she tells her, her voice at once a reassurance and a question.

Reassurance because she’s there, she’s there, she’s not going anywhere; a question because yes, yes, she wants her too, but why is that making her this scared?

“I want to have sex with you,” Maggie clarifies, tears in her eyes and her body on fire and her lungs barely working, and Alex’s breath hitches.

“Yeah? Good, because I um… I’ve been thinking about it. Wanting it. A lot. And I’ve been… researching a little, and I… I want to have sex with you, too. I… if you want. I mean, I know I’ve never done this with a woman, but – ”

“I’ve never done it at all.”

There’s silence and Maggie braces herself for goodbye, braces herself for laughter, braces herself for mockery and judgment and all the things that part of her brain, her heart – the parts that have let herself fall in love with Alex Danvers, the parts that have let herself want Alex Danvers – know Alex would never do. But she’s terrified, anyway.

Alex just cocks her head and squints and freezes slightly, but she blinks and she swallows and when she speaks, her voice is soft and her lips are twitching up into the same supportive smile Maggie wore when Alex stumbled her way out of the closet.

“God, you must think I’m such a jerk.”

Maggie blinks. If she was expecting any reaction, it wasn’t that. “What?”

“I’ve been teasing you this whole time about being so experienced, and I… I’m sorry, that must have made you so uncomfortable, I didn’t… I just assumed. I shouldn’t have. Maggie, I’m so sorry. But… can I ask you something?”

Maggie nods because something in her throat might be broken.

“Do you really want me, or do you just… are you just trying to give me something you think I want? And I mean I do. Want it. Want you. But only if you do.”

“No, I… I want… I want you. Alex. I… I’ve never… I don’t get attracted to people. Sexually. If I don’t… know them, if I don’t feel a certain way for them, I…”

She stammers off, because what kind of loser tells someone they love them before sleeping with them? How pathetic can she get?

But Alex’s eyes are light, are happiness, are reciprocal, and Alex’s touch is gentle, and Alex’s lips press against her own so slightly, so carefully, it’s like they’ve never kissed before but she wants to for the rest of her life.

“So you’re saying you like me? Enough to want me.”

“Danvers – ”

“Cause that works perfectly for me. Because I like you, too, Maggie Sawyer. Enough to want you.” Her eyes drag down Maggie’s body, slow and steady and hungry, but also… reverent, somehow. Maggie’s heart contorts into fireworks. “All of you.”

Maggie forgets what breathing is, and her heart’s never raced like this before, but Alex’s hands are warm and comforting on her cheeks, and god, does she want those hands all over her body.

“So take me. All of me.”

Alex grins like it’s Christmas morning – or maybe Chanukah, Maggie’s not sure what the equivalent would be, and makes a mental note to ask her later – and then all thought exhales out of Maggie’s body because Alex is up and Alex is tugging her up, too, and Alex is carrying her to bed, all the while kissing her, kissing her, kissing her like she’s oxygen, and she is, god, she is.

“Alex,” Maggie breathes as Alex lays her down, careful to put a pillow under her head, careful to not put all her weight on top of her, and Alex stops immediately, concern back in her eyes.

“Too much? I’m sorry, we can stop, or slow down, I’m sorry, I just… I’ve been wanting to do this,” she husks, her eyes again raking down Maggie’s body, like they did after she first kissed her in the bar, and the path of her eyes ignites heat in Maggie’s core that no one’s ever made her feel before and no, no, no, it’s not too fast.

Because it’s not fast enough.

“Kiss me,” she begs, and Alex grins again, and Alex complies, and Maggie shifts so her thigh is between Alex’s legs, and Alex tosses her head back and she moans and she looks down into Maggie’s eyes like she’s the entire universe, because she is.

“You are so beautiful,” she says, and one of her hands traces up Maggie’s shirt. “I want… I want to feel your skin. On mine.”

Maggie nods and Alex slips off her, shucking off her own shirt and watching as Maggie does the same, watching as Maggie arches her hips off the bed and tugs down her jeans as Alex kneels and mirrors the action.

“Wait,” Maggie asks as Alex reaches for her own bra clasp, eyes still on Maggie’s. “May I?”

“Yeah.” Alex voice is ragged and wrecked and Maggie imagines hers sounds about the same.

She gasps softly when Alex’s bra slips down her shoulders, and Alex bites her lip.

“Don’t be nervous, you… you’re perfect, Alex. You are so fucking gorgeous.”

“Can I?” is all Alex says in response, nodding at Maggie’s chest, and it’s Maggie’s turn to bite her own lip, because her heart is slamming so damn hard but she nods because yes, yes, yes, please.

Alex smirks when she unhooks Maggie’s bra in one try, and Maggie scowls but gives a laugh that turns into an excited gasp when Alex leans back down on top of her, both now wearing nothing but their underwear, Maggie in boxers, Alex in boyshorts.

The difference in the heat between their legs without their jeans; the difference between being shirtless and topless; the difference between being nearly naked and mostly clothed, makes both of them freeze, makes both of them stare, makes both of them shake.

“I love you,” Maggie breathes at the same moment that Alex says the same, and Alex drops her forehead to Maggie’s as they both giggle, as they both exhale in shaky relief, as tears prick both of their eyes.

“May I… I want to make love to you, Alex.”

“Yeah, same.”

“Good then.”

They have to stop every few moments, every few touches, to catch their breath. To avoid hyperventilating with excitement, with nerves, with new sensations, with overwhelming need. And each time they do, they kiss; each time they do, they stare into each other’s eyes; each time they do, they ask if the other needs to stop;  each time they do, they giggle slightly with relief, with shared nerves, shared excitement, shared exhilaration; each time they do, they press their foreheads together and breathe. Just breathe.

When their need to have skin on skin outweighs their fears, outweighs their nerves, so that they’re completely naked, Alex freezes, and Maggie freezes, and Alex holds most of her weight up on her left arm while interlacing her right hand through Maggie’s fingers.

“All good?”

“This feels perfect. You?”

“I want you so bad.”

“So do something about it instead of talking about it, Danvers.”

They both giggle at that, but Alex swallows their soft laughter in the ferocity of her next kiss, her eagerness to live up to Maggie’s teasing challenge.

Her teeth graze Maggie’s throat, her tongue traces her collarbone, her lips claim one of her nipples. Maggie screams and Alex pauses, and a tear streams down Maggie’s cheek and Alex crawls up to kiss it, to kiss her, before Maggie shakes her head and pushes her head back down.

“Please don’t get all soft on me now, Danvers,” she teases, and Alex grins wickedly instead of pointing out that Maggie’s crying – it would be a useless argument, because she’s got tears in her own eyes, too – and she occupies herself again with Maggie’s breasts, knowing that yep, yep, yep, she’s definitely gay, and she’s definitely gone completely soft on this woman.

She slips one of her thighs between Maggie’s legs tentatively, and when Maggie lets out a gasp that’s more of a scream, she freezes again, but Maggie just raises one of her own legs so Alex has pressure between hers, too. And it’s Alex’s turn to gasp, to scream, and they keep their eyes locked as Maggie arches her hips up, as Alex arches her hips down, each riding the other’s thigh slow, soft, frictionless.

Frictionless, because, “Damn Danvers, you’re so wet,” and “Never for anyone but you, Sawyer,” and “Same, Alex. Same.”

They arch their hips harder, faster, both of Alex’s hands now holding Maggie’s down against the mattress, fingers interlaced, Maggie nodding constantly to let Alex know yes, yes, yes, and when the muscles in Alex’s back tense with her orgasm, she screams Maggie’s name and her eyes squeeze shut and that image, that sound, that feeling of how wet Alex is all over Maggie’s thigh, that feeling of Alex’s body hot and sweating and firm on top of her, of Alex’s leg between hers, giving her all the pressure in all the right places, sends Maggie over her own edge, with Alex’s name on her own lips, but softly, softly, softly, sending up a perfect harmony with Alex’s louder screams.

“Maggie,” Alex whispers as they both come back down, as she untangles their fingers and lifts her body to make sure she doesn’t collapse her entire weight onto Maggie’s, resting her forehead on Maggie’s collarbone, breathing, breathing, breathing.

“Was that okay?” she asks, and it’s tears, not just sweat, on Maggie’s face.

And, she realizes with a start, on her own, too.

“More than okay, Danvers. You?”

“Yeah. Definitely yeah. Uh… was that something you’d… wanna do again?”

“With you, Alex? Definitely yeah.”

Master Fic List - Part 1 Dec 16 - April 17

CANON AU - 
(1) -
Regina and Robin reveal their plans to adopt more children.
(2) - Regina gets creative so that Robin will work out with her.
(3) - OQ spend the day in bed.
(4) - Regina loses her glasses.
(5) - Regina sends nudes to the wrong person.
(6) - Regina is scared of thunderstorms.
(7) - Robin has a traumatic flashback during sex.(1)
(8) - Robin can’t deal with the consequences of what he did to Regina (2)
(9) - OQ get a little naughty in the station despite Emma’s rules.
(10) - A tender OQ moment.
(11) - Regina gets a pleasurable wake up.
(12) - Regina struggles to believe that Robin is truly back.
(13) - Wish!Robin makes the ultimate sacrifice.
(14) - Henry catches a sweet moment between Regina and Robin.
(15) - Roland speaks to his Papa’s star.
(16) - Regina and Robin get a little naughty in the diner.
(17) - The only time Robin is shorter than Regina.
(18) - Wearing each other’s clothes.
(19) - The morning after New Year in the Mills household.
(20) - Regina teases Robin.
(21) - Robin is still alive and stops Regina from splitting herself.
(22) - Regina helps Robin shave.
(23) - Henry promises to care for Cobra!EQ
(24) - Regina introduces Robin to Christmas.
(25) - EF Teen!OQ Robin asks Regina to run away with him.
(26) - Regina wakes up to a little surprise.
(27) - Regina’s romantic plans don’t go as expected.
(28) - Shower sex (M)
(29) - First Grandchild.
(30) - First Grandchild follow-up.
(31) - Snow Queen talk about Robin.
(32) - Regina and Robin have their first biological child.
(33) - Regina makes the ultimate sacrifice.
(34) - Robin lists the reasons he loves his new wife.
(35) - Henry and the EQ talk about Daniel’s ring.
(36) - Roland wants his baby sister to have earrings just like Regina’s.
(37) - EQ tells Henry she kissed Rumple.
(38) - Henry finds out that he’s adopted.
(39) - The EQ finally succeeds in taking everything from Regina.
(40) - Domestic!OQ
(41) - Roland falls through a portal.
(42) - Regina is involved in a car crash.

VERSES
(1) - A Reluctant Secret -
The first time the baby is sick.
(2) - A Reluctant Secret - Their first Christmas together.
(3) - A Reluctant Secret - Regina has a confession for Robin.
(4) - Sponsor Verse - Regina is in need of help.
(5) - Sponsor Verse - Regina overdoses.
(6) - Sponsor Verse - Regina realizes she survived
(7) - Sponsor Verse - Regina’s first time at home.
(8) - Sponsor Verse - Regina let’s Robin in a little.
(9) - Sponsor Verse - Regina realizes she has feeling for Robin.
(10) - Hot For Teacher - Surprise Date.
(11) - Hot For Teacher - The Anniversary of Henry Sr’s Death
(12) - Hot For Teacher - Regina comes home after a school trip.
(13) - Hot For Teacher - Curled up on the sofa together.
(14) - Hot For Teacher - Jealous!Regina.
(15) - Hot For Teacher - Regina can’t sleep.
(16) - Hot For Teacher - Jealous!Robin.
(17) - Hot For Teacher - Robin admires Regina’s ass (M)
(18) - Hot For Teacher - Mistletoe
(19) - Hot For Teacher - Robin comforts Regina.
(20) - A Different Kind of Reality - Robin tells Regina he’s staying.
(21) - A Different Kind of Reality - Robin comforts Regina.
(22) - A Different Kind of Reality - Drunk OQ.
(23) - A Different Kind of Reality - Henry witnesses a kiss.
(24) - Coming to My Senses - Regina and Robin blindfold each other.
(25) - Domestic Violence - Henry offers and takes comfort from his mother.
(26) - Domestic Violence - Henry drops something in Robin’s house.

MISSING YEAR 
(1) -
Snow Queen heart to heart.
(2) - Roland asks Regina about Henry.
(3) - OQ are faced with the future versions of themselves happy and in love.
(4) - Robin finds Regina in his shirt.
(5) - OQ get stuck in some enchanted rain.
(6) - Regina finally wants to be open with their relationship.
(7) - Mistletoe kiss.
(8) - OQ watch the sunrise.
(9) - Regina defends Robin.
(10) - Regina is terrified of her feelings for Robin.
(11) - Snow convinces Regina to tell Robin of her feelings.
(12) - Robin helps Regina.
(13) - Regina sings when she’s happy.
(14) - Robin takes care of a sick Regina.

AU
(1) -
Regina is insecure about her relationship with Robin.
(2) - Regina misses Robin.
(3) - Regina misses Robin follow-up.
(4) - Proposal AU
(5) - Pre-dark curse
(6) - Teen!OQ ditch CS at the cinema.
(7) - Robin gives Regina a promise ring.
(8) - Robin comforts Regina after Daniel cheats.
(9) - Regina conceived Henry through rape.
(10) - Regina and Robin go to a cabin.
(11) - Regina takes her future into her own hands.
(12) - Titanic AU
(13) - Regina gives Robin the reason he needs to stay.
(14) - Kisses through the years.
(15) - Just Go With It inspired.
(16) - Robin defends Regina.
(17) - Regina adopted 11 year old Henry, he promises to protect her.
(18) - Robin watches a loving moment between his best friend and his son.
(19) - Henry and Roland at the piano.
(20) - OQ Miscarriage - Robin has a new tattoo.
(21) - Robin and Regina work at a bar together.
(22) - OQ get caught by CS (M)
(23) - Teen!OQ on a roadtrip.
(24) - Sharing a bed for warmth.
(25) - Regina’s insecurities are hurting her relationship with Robin.

Weeks - Andre Burakovsky

words: 985


As you sat in the WAGs suite you began to worry. All you saw was Andre blocking a shot and then writhing in pain on the bench. Then, he got up and walked towards the locker rooms. You were hoping he would be fine and that it was just a precaution to sit him out for the rest of the period. However, when he didn’t return after intermission, you began to worry.

Heading down to the locker room you hoped it was nothing too serious, but when you entered the room and saw him still sitting there, his hand was completely bruised with shades of purple and blue. He didn’t notice you at first, a group of medics still standing around him, asking him to rate the pain. Finally, after what felt like forever, they all looked up and saw you standing there.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Your Scotty headcanon from last night had me emotional and I was wondering if when you have the time you could do the same or something similar for AOS Jim? Please and thank you.

Originally posted by leetya-blog

Jim Kirk loves boldly.

Jim realizes that there’s something different about Leonard McCoy right off the bat. 

Jim kind of wants to kiss him. Jim definitely wants to fuck him. There’s something about Leonard McCoy that holds him back. There’s something about Leonard McCoy that draws him in. 

Jim doesn’t spend too much time pondering it. He’s not a worrier or an overanalyzer, and besides, things usually seem to work themselves out, in the end. 

Jim realizes that he’s in love with Bones only after Gaila calls him on it. 

“I am not,” he opens his mouth to protest, but her words, and their meaning, sink in before he can deny it. 

“Huh,” he says instead.

“Huh,” says Gaila in return, because she’d only half-believed it anyway. She’d fully expected Jim to laugh her off, threatening to prove to her once and for all that Jim Kirk isn’t in love with any dude, thank you very much, but Jim actually seems to be considering it, and for the first time in her life, Gaila finds herself at a loss.

Jim’s not paying her any attention. “I’m in love with Bones,” he says absently, and that is that.

Jim realizes that this scares the ever-loving shit out of him. 

Jim ponders it for a solid week. He’s broody, silent, giving Bones subtle side-eye until Bones finally throws his PADD and says, “What the fuck is wrong with you, Jim?”

“Nothing,” says Jim, and then he bolts out the door, away from Bones and his discerning gaze.

He finds himself ambling across the quad, hands stuffed deeply in his pockets. Why Bones, of all people? Bones is his best friend. Jim cares about Bones. Cares deeply, in fact. His friendship with Bones is important to him. It’s simple, uncomplicated - or it was - and the last thing Jim wants to do is risk it all on a silly social construct like love.

He avoids the apartment for the rest of the week.

Jim realizes abruptly, during his advanced tactics class, that love is a risky game

He realizes that love is taking your body, heart, and soul, all that you are, and entrusting it to another person. That of course that other person is someone you care deeply about, otherwise it wouldn’t be love. That there’s nobody in this world that Jim trusts more than Leonard McCoy.

“Oh,” he says.

“You have something to add, Kirk?” Admiral Archer peers expectantly over his spectacles. 

“Fundamental in allowing for boldness is accepting the inevitability of chaos,” Jim answers automatically. 

“Excellent,” says Archer warmly. “The logic of calculated risk taking has no place in it for chaos,” he continues, rapping his cane on the podium. “There must be a balance between analyzing risks, ladies and gentlemen, and acting. That balance is boldness.”

And with that, Jim makes up his mind.

Jim realizes that wooing Bones is going to be difficult. 

The thing is, he’s not wooing Bones, not exactly. Wooing is Jim Kirk’s game, and he excels at it, but this, this is different. He’s not pursuing, charming, chasing, propositioning. Jim doesn’t have good words for what he wants with Bones. It’s a slower thing, a gentler thing, a stabler, tender, sensitive thing, and Jim’s not quite sure how to label it, let alone approach it.

Everything he tries fails horribly. 

Bones thinks nothing of it when Jim takes him to dinner. 

Bones thinks nothing of it when Jim hacks the call system on Bones’ birthday.

Bones drinks the expensive bourbon without a word. 

Bones just sighs when Jim crawls into bed with him. 

He elbows Jim hard when Jim reaches for his hand.

Bones quirks an eyebrow at the candles. “You’re gonna burn the building down if you’re not careful, Jim,” he drawls. 

Jim decides it’s time for the direct approach. He shoots Bones a message. “Meet me after clinic,” it says. “Need to talk.”

“Well,” says Bones, folding his arms across his chest and giving Jim The Eyebrow. “What did you wanna talk about first, kid, the fact that I’m all out of bourbon, or how a year and a half later, I’m still stumbling over your fucking shoes in the morning?” Bones nudges the offending item with his toe. “This one’s even got some of the quad left on it.” 

“No, asshat, I love you,” Jim blurts, because he’s already replaced the damn bourbon, if someone would be bothered to look, and honestly, how thick can Bones be? 

Bones whistles appreciatively. “That’s a good one, Jim.” He shakes his head and settles on his desk, half sitting, half leaning. “Save it for someone who’ll buy it.” 

“No, Bones, I’m serious.” Jim’s sick and tired of dancing around it. “I’m in love with you.”

Bones goes very still. 

Jim moves toward him. “Bones?”

Bones snaps his head up and just stares at Jim for a long moment. “You mean you want to fuck me,” he says slowly. His brow is furrowed.

“No,” says Jim, a little put out. Why does Bones make it sound like such a bad thing? “No. I mean, yes, god, yes, but it’s more than that, Bones. You’re more than that. I want… I want the dating, I think,” Jim pauses, shaking his head, because that’s not quite right.  “And I want us to sleep in the same bed -”  

Bones snorts.

“No, I mean really, not just because yours is closest to the door! And I want…” Jim’s voice breaks. He can’t find the words for exactly what he wants, and fuck, he really should have thought this through. He’s rambling now, panicking. “I want to touch you, Bones, not for any reason, just because, and I want to take you out, just us, like, together together, and I want this to be real, not some -”

Bones cuts him off with a wave of his hand and a sharp, “How much have you had to drink?”

“Nothing!” Jim protests, and Bones must believe him, because he lets it go, moving wearily to the couch and sinking down with his head in his hands.

Jim sits hesitantly beside him.

“Jim,” he sighs heavily through his fingers, and then he’s looking at Jim with eyes that are too dark, almost desperate. “You do not love me. You are not in love with me. Okay?”

“Bullshit.” Jim says firmly. He’s having to hold back a grin, because Bones’ tone is telling him a lot. 

He knows better than to push, though. Not today.

“Unbelievable,” Bones mutters, reaching for his PADD. Jim knows he’s going to bury himself in case studies for the rest of the evening.

That’s fine, though. Jim leaves the conversation feeling lighter than he has in a month. He decides he’ll just have to tell Bones every day until Bones believes him.

Jim tells Bones every morning as they’re brushing their teeth. He leaves handwritten notes around the apartment for Bones to find. He sends Bones messages on his comm at the clinic, and he bombards Bones’ PADD during his slow lectures. He tells Bones as they’re walking across the quad, and he tells Bones when he stumbles in at 2 am on Thirsty Thursday.

Bones grouses, rolls his eyes, mostly ignores him, until one day, he grips Jim’s arm tightly. “Jim, stop,” he says raggedly, and his eyes are dark, pleading. “Please.” 

So Jim does.

At least, he stops saying it verbally. But he’s careful to keep his boots under his bed, and he leaves the bourbon in Bones’ closet, where he can find it. He makes coffee, he folds laundry. He resolutely ignores Gaila’s suggestive gaze, and he makes a calculated effort to come home before midnight, particularly after Bones has been on call. 

It goes on for months. Jim’s about ready to give up on love altogether when he finds Bones sitting on his bed one afternoon.

“Jim,” says Bones in a raw voice, and Jim can see immediately that it’s been a terrible shift. Bones’ eyes are bloodshot, and he smells like cheap whiskey and antiseptic. “Did you mean it?”

And Jim knows, immediately, what Bones is asking. “With all my heart, Bones,” he says softly, gently prying the bottle away from his fingers. “And we’re gonna have the rest of this conversation sober, okay?”

Bones quirks his head in question, blinking blearily up at Jim as if he’s never seen him before. “Okay,” he says finally.

Jim realizes that even after they’re together, Bones is the one that’s going to hold them back.

It’s that risk-taking thing again, Jim knows. Once bitten, twice shy, the saying goes, and that’s Bones all over. 

Jim is patient. He tries his best to be gentle, not to push. 

When Bones wants to take things slow, Jim agrees. When Bones isn’t comfortable taking his hand in public, Jim understands. 

When Bones calmly introduces Jim to Phillip Boyce as his partner, Jim’s face breaks into a wide grin, and he thinks he’s never been more delighted in his life. 

Jim realizes, after the Harrison incident, that his death had shaken Bones, but his resurrection had shattered him.

It takes him a while to understand. Jim’s own thoughts are in turmoil, his own emotions bleeding and raw, and Bones had been so solid, so composed, that Jim almost hadn’t recognized the signs at all. 

It nearly breaks them.

Jim’s got to get back on his feet again, and then there’s the whole fiasco with the medical board of ethics that leaves Bones fighting for his license, but when the dust settles, Jim acts. He’s desperate to save his relationship, to save Bones, Bones who’s saved him so many times, in so many ways, and nearly lost himself in the process. 

So Jim pulls all the strings he can, and nearly burns some bridges to do it, but he finally gets ‘fleet approval for an extended leave of absence for both himself and for Bones. 

He takes Bones back home, home to Georgia, away from rank and regulations and responsibilities. They spend long lazy days in the hot sun, rebuilding, relearning. 

Jim realizes after Yorktown that he wants to marry Bones.

It hits him suddenly, with a force that knocks the breath from his lungs and sends his emotions reeling. 

He’s at a press conference with the bridge officers. Ben comes to stand beside Hikaru, and the Sulu’s are met with a flurry of questions.

“My husband,” says Hikaru, reaching up to place his hand on Ben’s arm. His wedding band glistens in the light.

My husband.

My husband.

The words reverberate incessantly in Jim mind. Simple words, effortless words, but powerful, profound, absolutely earth-shattering to Jim. 

My husband.

“You’re quiet tonight,” Bones says over dinner that evening. He shoots Jim a questioning little glance.

“Just thinking,” says Jim distractedly. 

“Well I’ll be damned,” Bones drawls through a bite of replicated new potato. He lifts an eyebrow. “Didn’t think you had it in you, Jim.”

“Shut up,” says Jim, but his words are without heat. He’s in the middle of a personal paradigm shift, mind far too occupied to engage in playful banter over the dinner table. 

Bones shrugs, rolls his eyes, and leaves Jim to his thoughts. 

Jim’s never really considered marriage. It’s never been on his bucket list, it’s not something he’s ever needed, or wanted.

Until now.

He looks over at Bones, oblivious, gorgeous Bones, gnawing on dry, tasteless chicken with a disgusted little snarl on his lip. His hair’s in disarray from where he’s run his hands through it one too many times. He’s barefooted, still wearing his ‘fleet issue blue scrubs from rounds that morning. 

We can’t get married, Jim thinks, turning over the fraternization policies in his mind. Their relationship isn’t secret, not by a long shot, but it would be hard for the brass to turn a blind eye to holy matrimony. Jim shakes his head. The Captain and the CMO. It’s a ridiculous idea. 

Archer’s words come back to him suddenly, from years ago. 

“There must be a balance between analyzing risks, ladies and gentlemen, and acting.”

Boldness, Jim remembers. The balance between acting and analyzing. 

He smiles. He’ll find a ring tomorrow. 

Madi and Silver. First time and forgiveness.

I wanted to write a bit from Madi’s POV on her first time with Silver and also on how she decided to reconcile. English is my third language I hope you enjoy it anyway. Peace and blessings.

At her father’s grave a woman stood, seemingly unbothered by the blinding sun. Madi just sees her back, her silhouette unrecognizable in the light.
She shifts at her approach, turning her head slowly towards her and in her eyes, she catches the glimmer of recognition, followed by a small bow but no smile. Maria, Koffi’s wife, arrived in the community at a young age, alone, terrified, gripping the shoulder of the trusted maroon her father had sent to bring her there. But even then, she wasn’t crying. She stood in front of the queen and her voice, sang the praises of Mr Scott, heavy with the rolling of her native Spanish. From that day on, Maria sang and worked and smiled, until the night Madi came back home without her husband. Without, at least, the body of her husband. She had never seen someone convulse so violently, as if an invisible hand had crushed her chest. But she did not cry, nor scream, and more surprisingly to her, she did not seem to hate her princess. Maria was one of the only maroons who would openly call her family royalty. She had been princesa since she had handed her a ripe mango, on the day she arrived.
She was looking at her now, asking with her eyes and her hand if she wanted her to leave. Madi shook her head and stood next to her, shoulder to shoulder.
- “ Do you hate me Maria?” The question came out of her so quickly that she winced under the weight of it.
- “Not for the war.”
- “Then why?”
- “For wasting time.”
She said it in her usual slightly ironic tone, rendered even more unnerving by her accent. They were facing each other now, the etiquette forgotten by both. Maria did not resent Madi for monopolizing so much of Koffi’s life or for his violent death. Indeed she shared her husband fierceness and loyalty.
- “I resent you because you are not sitting on the lap of the man you love, while you can. La reina can’t and I can’t. But you can and you choose not to. You don’t sneak up to drink water at night anymore. That, I hate.”

Madi lost her composure, few people in her life had spoken to her so candidly. Unable to hold her gaze she concentrated on the cigarillo carefully tucked behind her right ear.
And, worst of all, she was not done. She was openly mocking her now.
- “The whole camp we just waiting with the white man. We all like pregnant women with the wait.”
She sucked her teeth loudly, her broken English singing in Madi’s ear like a chorus of mean children.
- “You don’t love him?”
- “You know nothing about me and him.”
- “I know about losing the man I love. I think I know enough about love. And about waiting and wanting too. I do not know how you want war when all this man does is wanting you. We are unlucky no me and him? So in love with warriors…”
She smiled a last defiance before bowing, returning to her usual respectful and humble attitude.
- “I’m going to Koffi’s grave now princesa. One can still cry over an empty one.”
She left and Madi stayed silently under the unforgiving sun. She was now sure that Maria talking about her sitting on Silver’s lap, was no coincidence. She knew about it because Koffi told her. And the water… She remembered that day. Silver was sitting and she was pacing, and he extended his hand to make her stop. She just collapsed on his lap before she could look up to dismiss Koffi. When she did, her guard’s eyes were laughing. Silver was amused too but she wasn’t. However, she didn’t get up. She just stayed there, not looking at him, her shoulder against his chest until her frustration faded. When she turned back to look at him, he smiled the way he’d always smile at her. Softly and behind that softness, true cheekiness. He smiled, she kissed him. Maybe a little too hard. It wasn’t the first time but it was a different kind of kiss, a kind she didn’t know yet. What happened next between them, left her bruised and wondering how someone who had been maimed and starved, could be so strong. Perhaps because she was almost as tall as him, she had unconsciously underestimated his strength. Or maybe, she had realized, she was just used to be the most dominant person in the room. When he gestured to her to stand up she did it with uncharacteristic precipitation. He pushed her gently out of his way and left the room leaving her perplexed. When he came back he was drying his hands and taking off his heavy rings. He grabbed her, sat her back on his lap and smiled while his hands disappeared under her skirt. She waited for him to ask for permission and he never did. Instead, he kissed her with his eyes opened while he was getting the heavy cotton out of his way.  Madi realized she was holding her breath, bracing for pain or roughness or even cold. Instead she felt a caressing warmth. His hand stayed between her legs until pleasure and exhaustion made her vision blurry. They went to bed. She slept face first in her matress and when she woke up in the middle of the night, they made love. She was drenched in sweat and her dreads might have smacked him in the face once or twice. She remembered he was more vocal than her. She remembered every second of it.  
Making love to him was no small thing. This time and all the other ones. He would often crush her with all his weight. She first thought that he just lacked balance because of his leg, but she knew better now. He did it on purpose, making a somehow comfortable position a quiet struggle between them. His hands would randomly cover half her face or close around one of her ankles, and cut the blood flow if she didn’t wriggle out. Each of his moves said the same words: Here I am no cripple and you are no royalty.  Even though she would never admit it out loud, being his lover had been the most passionate and wearying experience of her young life. Not the fights and the gunshots. Not the open sea and the ships smelling of men’s sweat and blood. Not a house on fire. Not Woodes Rogers. Not even Billy’s blade against her throat.
Those were feelings so overwhelming that they made you numb. Silver made her feel her heartbeat in her teeth. Now, amid all her anger, she doubted he ever really knew how much he affected her. Did he really see through her royal mask? It was her mother’s best gift but, she knew that now, it also obscured the depth of her feelings.
That first night when she walked out of her quarters in desperate need of cool water, she felt convalescent, like after recovering from a fever, like after a dance where she had been both dancer and drum. She had tasted a kind of love that felt like dark rum, not the tafia pirates drank, but the old brown one that made colors brighter and voices deeper. She was about to drink unceremoniously from one of the common barrels when she saw Maria. She was barefoot and wearing Koffi’s shirt, her legs slick with sweat. She didn’t bow that day either but instead just leaned over the barrel and drank without her hands, like animals do. Her thirst quenched she looked up, wiping her chin, her face mere centimeters from hers. Even in the dark she could see the wild spark of curiosity in her eyes. She gathered water in her hands and offered it to her. After she drank she kindly washed her face, legs and feet, like for a young bride.
Finally, she’d just said:
- “Tonight, life is good no? God is good.”
She knew at this moment that she did not need to ask for secrecy about their impromptu meeting. That woman poured water over fresh bite marks on her thighs and mouthed hallelujahs to both Yémanja and Jésus about it. Love was the best thing, hallelujah.
Maria was a bit wild. Somehow, because of this kind of behavior, she still felt foreign to many of them even though she had lived on the island for more than a decade. She was voracious and happy to be alive as if she had left that Cuban plantation yesterday. She was contagiously sensual and smarter than a mongoose. Madi vaguely suspected her to be able to speak the King’s English just fine. She also chose her words carefully to remind her that, unlike her own mother and herself, she could still be with her lover. A luxury in a world full of mourners. It was an act of kindness, like when she’d washed her bruised legs that night.

As she walked to the cliff, where she knew he would be, she found herself limping to fit her own steps to the marks his foot and crutch left in the sand.
What will she say?
When he turned around to look at her, her nervousness made her mind go back and forth between Maria and Makéda, her mother. She tried to remember the way they talked to their lovers, the million ways they said I love you. Those sentences that were renewed wedding vows in disguise then she chose one.
- “Get out of the sun before it drives you mad.”

Hands to yourself

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Warnings: mild smut, too much fluff

Word count: 1702

Request: by anon, Could you write an imagine where bucky celebrates his and y/n’s anniversary and he can’t keep his hands to himself in a fluffy/smutty kind of way?

A/N: Hope you all like this! I’ve been busy all weekend but I managed to get this out! Any feedback would be greatly appreciated <3

Originally posted by bucha-nan

It was hard to believe that you had been married to Bucky for a year. Time seemed to fly, being attached at the hip to the love of your life. Your wedding was small and simple, held in a local church. There were not many guests or many decorations but it was everything you ever wanted and more. All that mattered was Bucky. Today was your anniversary, so obviously Tony would be using it as an excuse to throw a massive party. 

You and Bucky were set to arrive at the tower from your off site apartment in an hour. The steam fogged up your bathroom mirror and you swiped at it with your hand to help it dissipate. Removing the towel from around your body, you wrapped it around your hair and twisted it until it sat on top of your head. You poked at your face for a minute but then decided to get dressed before fixing your makeup. 

The bathroom door creaked open and the cool air made goosebumps appear all over your naked body. You shivered and immediately went to the dresser to find some underwear. You hadn’t noticed Bucky standing in the doorway of your bedroom until you felt his firm hands grip your hips from behind. 

He leaned forward and you could feel his breath fan across your skin. He placed a hot open mouthed kiss to your neck. A different kind of shiver racked your body. His lips were relentless as he trailed down your spine. Taking his time making sure to worship every part of you. At that point, finding underwear was long forgotten. He sucked on your hip for a moment, being sure to mark you and then turned your body around so you were facing him. 

The sight of him kneeling before you was so erotic you almost collapsed. He kissed and licked the front of your left hip slowly coming closer to your core and then moving farther away, teasing you.

 “Buck please” you moaned. You could feel his smirk on your hip as he obeyed you and kissed his way to your center. Your hands found their way into his hair and you guided him where you wanted him. You were lost in him, and he was definitely lost in you. That is until you remembered that you were supposed to be getting ready.

You held both the sides of his face and gently lifted him off of you. He grumbled at the loss of contact and looked up at you curiously.

 “Love, we have to get ready. Tony is expecting us in less than an hour” you smiled guilty down at him still kneeling in front of you. He looked disappointed but stood up next to you and kissed your cheek.

 “Do we have to go?” He whined and gave you his best puppy dog eyes. For a moment you were considering pushing him over to your shared bed and letting him do whatever he wanted to you. Quickly you snapped out of your irresponsible thoughts and looked at him sternly.

 “Yes darling we have to go. The party is for us after all.”

“Well if it’s for us we should be able to decide whether we want to go or not” Bucky persisted. 

“Come on it’ll be fun! Besides, we’ll have plenty of time to finish what we started after the party” you winked at him and took his large hand in yours. 

“Now help me pick out something to wear.”

20 minutes into your outfit search and you both had come up empty handed. You held up dress after dress but each of them didn’t sit right with you. Bucky wasn’t much help. He said that same thing each time you tried one on. ‘You look beautiful’. You would roll your eyes playfully and then you’d be back to square one. 

Frustrated and running out of time to get ready, you settled on a knee length champagne silk dress. It had a halter top and more of a babydoll fit. It made you feel beautiful. Bucky was no longer paying attention to you because he was getting himself ready. His snug dress pants made his ass look fantastic but you pushed away those thoughts and walked over to him. 

“So how do I look?” You asked waiting for the same response you got for all the other dresses. 

“Wow- okay you can’t wear that to the party” he groaned. His pupils were blown and he licked his lips. 

“What do you mean? I like this dress” you said clearly disappointed. 

“Doll, trust me, I love this dress. It’s just that if you want to actually get to the party you’re going to have to change. I won’t be able to keep my hands to myself with you looking like that” he smirked at you and you laughed at his coy remarks. 

“Well I think I’m going to wear it anyway and you, Mr. Barnes, are going to have to find a way to control yourself” you purred and placed your hand on his chest. Now you were teasing him. 

“Darling, you are going to be the death of me, I swear” he huffed with an exasperated look. Obviously your teasing had its intended effect on Bucky and you were pleased with yourself. You giggled at the expression on his face and leaned in to kiss his jaw. Seeing how flushed his face was, you turned away from him to fix your hair and makeup. 

Bucky stood directly behind you the whole time and occasionally brushed his metal hand up and down your back, making you shiver yet again. Your eyes met his in the mirror in front of you. He smirked at you, knowing that his close proximity to you was the reason you were biting your lip. After you were finished with your hair and makeup, he snaked his hands around your waist and rested his chin on the top of your head.

“You are so pretty” he remarked as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Even though you had been married to him for a year and had been dating him for 3, his compliments always caught you off guard. Your face broke into a smile and your eyes flitted away from his, clearly flustered. You craned your neck to face him and leaned up to kiss his jaw.

“Come on darling, let’s go. The cab should be waiting for us outside” you beamed and fluffed your hair one last time before slipping on your shoes and gripping your husband’s hand for balance. He chuckled at the clumsiness you possessed in which he had fallen in love with, and made sure to keep you upright. After you were settled in your shoes Bucky lifted your hand to his mouth and left a gentle kiss there. He then led you to the door and out of your apartment.

On the walk to the cab you realized that you should’ve brought a jacket and were visibly uncomfortable. Bucky noticed and shrugged his jacket off and draped it over your shoulders. You smiled in appreciation and he reached forward to open the car door for you. 

You were about ten minutes out from Stark tower and Bucky’s hand was resting on your leg. He had been cracking jokes to whole ride and for moment you stopped listening just to study his face. It was still a wonder to you, how effortlessly handsome he was.

Bucky became slightly worried when you didn’t laugh at what he had said and only looked at him with a curious expression.

“Y/N? You okay doll?” he questioned and rubbed your knee with his thumb.

“How did I get so lucky?” you responded absentmindedly and with a new surge of spontaneity, you reached into your purse and grabbed your phone. 

Hey Wanda, let Tony know that we’re not gonna make it tonight. Tell everyone to take a shot for us and have a good time! ox’ 

“Driver?” you called and Bucky quirked an eyebrow at you.

“Yes ma’am?”

“Can you bring us back to where you picked us up? There have been a change of plans.” You winked at Bucky. His face split into a smile and he reached over to hold your hand. The driver made a quick U-turn and you were on your way home. 

“I was thinking it over and I decided that you were right. The only person I need with me to celebrate our anniversary, is you.” his smile grew until his nose was all scrunched up in that way you love and his eyes seemed to sparkle.

You pulled up in front of your apartment building and Bucky ran around to the your side of the car to open the door for you. You chastised him about opening doors for you all the time, claiming that you could open the door for yourself. He always responded with the same phrase, ‘Old habits die hard doll’ so eventually you had just gotten used to him doing it.

He took your hand as you climbed out of the cab and then wrapped his arm around your waist. You walked inside like this and once you reached your apartment, you started to dig through your purse for your key. 

Bucky, standing slightly behind you, grabbed your ass with both of hands, after making sure there was no one in the hallway. You grinned at him over your shoulder.

“I guess I don’t have to keep my hands to myself now” He smirked at you.

“I was hoping that you wouldn’t. If you thought I looked good with this dress on, you should see me with it off” you sang and pulled him into the apartment with you. He moaned and bit down on your shoulder lightly before picking you up and placing you gently on the bed.

He looked down at you with admiration for a moment and then finally spoke. “I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Now come here” You giggled and began to lift your dress over your head and you pulled him down to you.

Ivar falling in love with you would include :

(So I finally had the chance to watch the new episodes!!! They were great, I can’t wait for more! Ps. I love Ivar already XD So hope it is as requested and you all like it!!! Gif not mine/found it in google/credit to the original owner.) 

-Him always telling his brothers to back off from you and having to go against them for your attention 

-Him proving to you he can be an independent man 

-Him always smiling at you when you would look his way  

-Him enjoying to lay next to you by the river and spending the day just talking about anything and everything 

-Him eavesdropping and looking at you from afar when you’re working around your house

-Him sometimes acting like he needs your help and liking it when you would gladly do so

-Him paying attention to every little detail of you and talking about you to his mother

-You finding different kinds flowers everyday in front of you doorstep

-Him daydreaming about kissing you, holding you and much more

-You ending up truly falling for him and telling him about it

“April Fools” on AO3

It’s Edward’s birthday, but that doesn’t mean much to him. Oswald tries to make it special.

7k, SFW.


“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” Oswald murmurs into Ed’s ear, sitting on the bed beside him and making the mattress dip. Ed hums, blinking up at Oswald blearily. He’s generally the first to rise, but Oswald never wakes him on the days he’s not. He can make out a blurry smile on Oswald’s face and smiles in return. Oswald leans down to kiss him, and Ed bites back a protest about not having brushed his teeth yet. Clearly, Oswald is up to something.

“I brought you breakfast,” Oswald chirps, standing and handing Ed his glasses. Ed accepts them, unfolding the frames and putting them on in order to survey the selection Oswald has brought. It’s a full English breakfast: bacon, fried eggs, grilled tomatoes, toast, and sausages. He sits up, arranging himself so he’s leaning back against several pillows while Oswald sets the tray of food up over his lap. Ed tries the coffee, and he can tell before he even tastes it that it’s the exact ratio of coffee to milk to sugar that he prefers. Oswald had even spruced up the tray of food with a little vase of flowers, filled with white and purple crocuses that Ed recognizes as having recently bloomed on their lawn. There’s a small bowl of strawberries as well, large and red, probably a last minute consideration on Oswald’s part when he realized that a full English wasn’t exactly what Ed would consider to be the best selection for a balanced breakfast.

“What’s the occasion?” Ed asks, tilting his face up for another peck as Oswald hovers over him. Oswald laughs and kisses him once again before sitting on the bed.

“It’s your birthday, silly goose.” His birthday. Ed hadn’t even realized. He’d never really celebrated the day. Generally, telling people it was his birthday led to laughter and disbelief rather than well wishes. That was the curse of being born on April first, he supposes. While working for the GCPD, he had never possessed the energy required to convince person after person it was actually his birthday; it just made the whole affair even more pathetic than it already was. Better to ignore the day all together. What was the purpose of celebrating, anyways? Congratulations on making another rotation around the sun, you are now one day closer to your inevitable demise.

“Thank you,” Ed says instead. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to eat all of this by myself.”

Keep reading

Sweet Kiss (Jacob Frye X Reader)

And I can publish another one. Really short this one, I know, I know. And I am late for Valentine’s Day - I hope you all had a great one.
I’ve found a list with a few different kind of Kisses as an idea to write a Fanficion/Drabble. And here is the first result of that list.

I’ve got not much to tell at this point; only that I hope you enjoy this small drabble and I’m thankful for each new and old follower I’ve got!

Title: Sweet Kiss
Summary: Reader comes back from a mission, but Mr. Frye already knows how to bring you down to catch a breath.
Characters: Reader, Jacob Frye
Relationships: Jacob Frye x Reader
Warnings: None
Words: 745

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megansarah11  asked:

65 klaronine again if you can work Henrik in that would be awesome

So apparently when you request Henrik, I just base half the drabble about the little kid xD So this is probably more a Henrik/Caroline + KC drabble xD.

KC + “I have a secret.”


“What are you doing?” Henrik asked when he walked into Rebekah’s room. Caroline and she were lying on her bed, deep in conversation and looked startled at the interruption.

“We’re talking,” Rebekah told her five-year-old brother and glanced at her friend for help. Caroline, however, was always weak around the youngest Mikaelson and would let him get away with almost anything, including intruding on their personal conversations. And Rebekah had so wanted to share about her date with Matt the night before.

“Can I stay?” Henrik asked, pouting at Caroline, knowing she was the one most likely to agree.

“We’re talking about secrets, Henrik. I’m sorry, but they’re private,” Caroline tried explaining. The young boy wouldn’t understand much of their conversation, but that would also mean he could accidentally mention things around his parents or brothers.

“What are secrets?” Henrik asked curiously. His brothers had already sent him away and he wanted to stay with his sister.

“They’re things that no one else knows,” Caroline explained. “Things you only tell your close friends.”

“Oh…” Henrik contemplated that for a moment and then he grinned. “I have a secret,” he whispered.

Caroline moved closer to Henrik. “Really? What is it?” she whispered, trying to include him at least for a little bit.

“I ate Elijah’s last cookies,” Henrik whispered in return, “Kol showed me where he hid them.” He giggled at the memory and looked at Caroline with a beaming smile. “Can I stay now?” he eagerly asked.

They both looked pleadingly at Rebekah and she groaned. “Fine, fine,” she muttered, “But only for a little while!” she warned her brother.

He nodded and turned back to Caroline. “So what’s your secret?”

She thought back to something appropriate to mention in front of him before she settled on one he could understand. “Last week, I changed the covers of some of Klaus’ books so he brought the wrong ones to class,” she confessed.

Henrik giggled and nodded. “I heard about that! Kol and he were talking about it when they send me away. Apparently, they have secrets as well,” he pouted at that. He didn’t like the exclusion from his older siblings at times. He could talk just as well as them, he was five years already.

“What were they talking about?” Rebekah perked up in interest. It was always nice to get dirt on one’s siblings.

“About Caroline,” Henrik said and Caroline looked up in surprise.

“Why were they talking about me?” she asked in surprise. “I didn’t do anything this week…”

“I don’t know. I know that Klaus said he fancied you, but he wouldn’t explain what that meant to me. They send me away right after.”

“Wait they said what?” Rebekah laughed and looked fell back on her bed in a fit of laughter. “Oh, that’s rich.”

Caroline was shocked in silence. Klaus having any type of feelings for her was surprising. She always assumed he only tolerated her because she was his sister’s friend. The interaction the two had was antagonistic half the time anyway. Playing pranks or having arguments. How the hell was that the thing that made Klaus ‘fancy’ her?

Then again, she wasn’t one to talk, now was she? She had had a crush on him for years and had used their little feuds and banter as just another way to interact with him. Caroline groaned; they were both so messed up, she decided.

“What does fancy mean?” Henrik demanded to know, looking at the two girls who had such different reactions to the word.

“It means,” Caroline started before she paused. What did it really mean? Maybe Henrik had overheard wrong.

“It means that Klaus likes Caroline,” Rebekah told him, “Like how Elijah likes Katherine.” She made a nasty face at the thought.

“So Klaus wants to kiss Caroline,” Henrik declared with a proud grin that he had figured it out. That’s all that Elijah seemed to do when Katherine was around.

“No!” Caroline exclaimed at the same time that Rebekah nodded and said yes.

“He wants her to be his girlfriend, but that’s not happening,” Rebekah explained.

Henrik shook his head in distress, “That can’t happen,” he said panicky. “Caroline is already my girlfriend!”

“Aw, I know Henrik,” Caroline pecked him on the cheek, “And you’re the best boyfriend I will ever get. But this would be a different kind of boyfriend or girlfriend thing.”

“Because you would kiss Klaus,” Henrik realized. He thought about it for a moment. “Well I suppose you could have two boyfriends,” he allowed, “But only if I can have two girlfriends as well.”

Caroline laughed, “Of course you can,” she allowed.

“Wait why are you talking like you dating Klaus would even be a possibility,” Rebekah tried to read her friend. “OMG you like my brother!” she exclaimed in shock. She was surprised she hadn’t realized it before.

“I- Maybe,” Caroline confessed, turning away from her friend. “Would that be okay?”

Rebekah considered it for a moment. “Well I’d rather have him bring you home than another harlot like Elijah did,” she confessed.

Caroline knew how hard that was for Rebekah. As the little sister, she didn’t like sharing her brother’s with anyone, but she would make an exception for Caroline. If that would ever become an issue.

“So go talk to him!” Rebekah urged her, “You now know. It’s not going to do you much good to keep sitting on this. Besides, Henrik is clearly the worst secret keeper ever and will probably tell Klaus that you like him too, the second he leaves the room.”

Henrik nodded at that, and Caroline glanced at the door. What could be the worst that could happen? “Okay… Okay,” she gathered her nerves, “Don’t come looking for me. I’ll text you when I’m home,” Caroline instructed Rebekah, hugging her friend and her little brother.

She waved while she exited their room and walked over to Klaus room. His door was closed and she knocked twice, hoping that Kol was no longer with him.

“Klaus?” she called out at the same time the door opened.

“Caroline!” he opened the door in surprise and looked at her in confusion, “Why are you here?”

“Henrik is the worst secret keeper,” she blurted out, unsure how to start the topic.

“He told you,” Klaus groaned. She nodded and he opened the door to let her in the room. “What did he tell you?”

“That you fancied me,” Caroline confessed. She noticed him shut his eyes for a moment, while he sat down on the bed. She sat down next to him. “Do you?” she dared to ask.

“Does it matter?” he retorted, regretting not to send Henrik away before he confirmed his feelings about Caroline to Kol.

“No. I suppose not,” she said, noticing how his face fell with her words. “I mean it’s not like it would change my feelings,” she added.

“I assumed as much,” Klaus nodded. He had never expected Caroline to return his feelings. This only confirmed what he already knew.

Caroline rolled her eyes, “For someone who assumes to know everything, you’re really blind.”

“What do you mean?” Klaus questioned.

“That I like you, you idiot,” she turned her head, avoiding looking at Klaus. “Don’t ask me why, but I do,” she whispered.

Klaus slowly lifted her chin so he could look her in the eyes. “I like you too,” he admitted before he brushed his lips against her.

“Yeah,” Caroline laughed softly, “You’re brother told me as much. But it sounds better when you say it.”

“I like you,” Klaus said and kissed her on her nose. “I like you,” he brushed his lips against her closed eyes. “I like you,” one peck on the corner of her lip. “Do you believe me?”

“Yes,” she said and pulled him closer, capturing his mouth with hers. She believed him. She might have been blind before, but a little kid had helped open her eyes to what was always in front of her.


Hope you liked it!

Tiger Stripes // Cisco X Reader

Request: Hi, I just realized what stretch marks look like, I also realized I have them all over my body, they aren’t as severe as most but definitely noticeable. Could you do a Cisco X reader sweet smut with fluff and he comforts her? I’m having a really hard time with this right now and I would appreciate it, thanks you are the best
Author’s note: YOU SHOULD NOT BE ASHAMED OF YOUR BODY. Everyone has stretch marks. Everyone, every single person on this earth. Some are red some are purple some are tan some are paler than one’s skin tone. I have them from when I was pregnant with my daughter and just from going through weight changes before that and it took me so long to love my body because of them, I still struggle with it. Just know you, whoever you are reading this, are so beautiful.

Warnings: very fluffy feelsy smut, probably trigger warning for anyone with body issues.



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“Of Love and Agony,” (1/1)

Summary: His tongue was cruel in more ways than one.

Notes: This was inspired by a very NSFW sketch that appeared on my dash. It is also DO-era filth, which means it is incredibly sad. So be aware going into this, it’s probably the darkest thing I have written or will write. Thanks to the bae, @abbadons-little-witch! Also tagging @captainwiley, by request. xo Also on Ao3, as always.

I have lost myself in the sea many times
with my ear full of freshly cut flowers,
with my tongue full of love and agony.
– Federico García Lorca


+ He surrenders in an unknowable moment between her thighs; but he won’t realize he’s lost until it’s too late, the strange, salty taste of her an intimate, uncanny premonition of the blood in his mouth.

“I knew,” she’ll whisper days, weeks, months later, their skin warm and damp in the light of a grey, early dawn, “I knew.”

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2

AS MY LADY COMMANDS || [listen]

“You won’t be stealing no kisses from a princess.”

VII. Oh, Marcel

Also called: The Marcel Smut (maybe part 1/? let me know)
Prompt: Harry, pitifully called Marcel as a sour joke, is a nice, young, straight-A student, with a bully and what he thinks is an unattainable crush on his bully’s ex, whom he thinks too much about, in the worst possible moments.


(FROM THE IDEA THAT THESE GIFS LOOK LIKE A DISHEVELED MARCEL HAVING A WANK.)




In which Harry Marcel Styles is having a hard day. Quite literally.




For Harry, getting up was the easy part of the day. He’d open his green eyes and analyse his blurry surroundings. It wasn’t after he slid on his glasses that he could tell apart the blobs of color. His small cactus on the edge of his desk, the guitar resting on the corner, the stack of papers next to his bed, and his meds on the bedside table as well. Flipping over on the bed he’d groan and stretch, and then proceed to scratch any itch. The typical, don’t act like you don’t do it too. The first thought that came to his mind was the one that determined pretty much the rest of his day.

Was it raining outside? Meant he’d have to carry his shitty umbrella, the one he still owns because he’s had no time to replace with all the club meetings and exams from the previous semester. Maybe this year he can get a new one.

Or maybe it was sunny. He would mentally prepare himself for the heat he’d feel due to the mandatory vest he had to wear for his part-time job.

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8

this is what i like to call “moments that made me headcanon daniel as bisexual and i’m convinced he and hector were more than ‘just friends’”