#I have been silent for a long time I return with this

[fawnindawn]

the line between thieves and healers (Luke Castellan x apollo fem! reader)

Summary: Luke Castellan returns from his quest as a ghost of his old self with a bleeding scar to prove it. With his golden boy exterior all but shattered, no one in camp has tried to approach him since his return. This changes when you stumble upon the son of Hermes when he decides to go back to his old roots, stealing from your infirmary at midnight.

pairing: luke castellan x apollo fem! reader

Content: forced proximity, tending to wounds, luke develops a little crush, set after Luke's failed quest in the Garden of Hesperides, mentions of injuries and scars, Luke tries and fails at being mean, hurt-comfort, fluff

masterlist for this series (everything in between) every part in this series can be read as a stand alone!

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"Come on." One of the campers prodded despite your obvious discomfort. "I'm sure you've squeezed something out of Castellan by now. He's been silent about what happened during his quest for days."

"I told you, I don't know anything, and even if I did, patient confidentiality exists." You repeated for the ninth time in a week. Ever since people found out Luke had come personally to you to tend to his wounds, they had lost all decency over the hope of digging for some good gossip. If you were asked one more time, you were sure you would tell them to stick their noses right back up their asses and leave.

Even after his return, Luke Castellan remained a constant in word of mouth around camp over his sudden change in persona. His usual grin and charm was replaced with a dark gloom unfitting for the son of Hermes, who used to light up any room he entered. The scar that permanently rests on his face didn't make it easier for him to avoid watching eyes either. After refusing to play in Capture the Flag for the first time in history, whatever patience the camp was trying to uphold dissipated into chaos.

Sure, you could see why it was a big deal. If you're a person with a sane enough mind (of course, not guaranteed in the premises of Camp Half-Blood), you’d understand why the fellow camp counsellor of the Hermes Cabin was popular. With his constant presence around camp as the cool, attractive camp counsellor helping other campers with that small quirk up his lips, or through word of mouth of how talented and kind he was, it wasn't a huge surprise that he attracted as much attention as he did.

Once the ninth camper in a row finally gave up and left with a huff, your eyes lingered over the bed where you first tended to Luke.

It was the dead of night when you were woken by the sound of creaking wooden floorboards and the cold chill of the wind that had somehow been brought into the infirmary. Somehow, you had overslept again on your shift and no one had bothered to wake you up or even check for your missing presence in your cabin.

Groaning at the awkward shift of your bones from your horrible sleeping posture on the desk, you were halfway through your stretch to crack your stiff neck when you heard the sound of footsteps. Freezing in place, you paused to listen in once more only to heard the soft thud once again. Peering to the left side of the infirmary, your heart stopped.

"Hey, listen." You spoke with that awkward crack in your voice whenever you go too long without speaking, causing the large shadow to flinch, pausing in its pursuit through your medicine cabinet. "I may not seem like it, but I am the best in combat in my cabin so whoever you are, step away from the cabinet and put your hands up."

Gee, that's convincing, you sound like an unnamed extra from the first few minutes of a horror movie before they ended up six feet under. Cursing yourself internally, you watched the shadow raise to full height from it's bent position. Gulping at the height that seemed to be at least six feet, you wonder if you should have just left this cabinet thief be and go to sleep for the night.

Why would anyone even want to ransack an infirmary at midnight?

You quickly grabbed for your oil lamp situated beside you, still flickering with the smallest of flames and you stood from your chair, causing it to creak back and scratch at the wooden floors as you made your way around the table to approach the thief.

The light was dim, but you spotted the familiar outline of a broad back and curls before he even fully turned.

"Castellan?" You gasped in half-asleep shock, disbelief obvious in your tone as you moved the oil lamp nearer to prove your eyesight wasn't playing tricks on you.

He didn't respond verbally to the call of his name, but when he turned around, his eyes narrowed on you as if you were the intruder. You barely had the chance to form words, questions- before you spotted the dripping crimson liquid near his eye.

"Oh gods." You muttered, grabbing at his arm and tugging him towards the nearest bed. "Why didn't you wake me up? It's not like you could wrap this up yourself."

With some struggle, he finally gave in, plopping down the edge of the bed and watched you scour through the medicine cabinet for bandages and other supplies, muted and stiff.

"I seriously don't understand why you didn't wake me up. Would you rather bleed to death or get an infection?" You scolded, your inner concern bleeding through your usual sense of politeness for injured visitors.

"Maybe." You thought you heard him mumble, but when you turned to look at him, he was facing the window right beside the bed and staring out into the shadows of the forest, the glow of the moonlight illuminating his features like a haunted painting, blood dripping down his cheekbones like fallen tears. You waited longer for an elaboration but there was none. You assumed you heard wrong, or at least you hoped you did.

You got off your knees, splaying out the supplies on the surface of the bed beside him, and pulled up a stool for you to sit at. He was still facing away from you, and your irritation combined with your lack of sleep made you more reckless than you'd usually be with an injured patient.

You gripped at his chin, forcing him to look at you, watching with satisfaction as his eyes widened at the sudden force. He looked more alive when he was caught off guard, his face devoid of the usual disinterest and distance it had ever since he arrived back from his quest.

"How do you expect me to treat you if you keep looking away from me, Castellan?" You challenged, gazing back into his eyes with fire you hoped was fierce enough to break down the coldness in his gaze.

After seconds of nothing but two stubbornheads trying to win a useless battle of eye contact, he sighed. "..Fine."

You were more gentle after that, letting go of his chin and reaching for the cloth. Your hands remained delicate on his skin that seemed to have pulled at the edge of the scar, where it was now bleeding again through its previous stitches. You mumbled a warning before dapping a wet handkerchief on top of the wound to soak in the blood, and he unintentionally grabbed at your thigh as he tried not to hiss out in pain.

You froze at the sudden tight grip, moving the cloth away from his skin and he was quick to retract his hand, positioning it awkwardly on top of the bedsheets instead.

"It's okay if you grab me." You reassured. "It'd be easier for me to gauge if you need me to stop when it gets too painful. You could give me a squeeze if you need a breather?"

You waited, watching his thoughts flicker through his narrowed eyes before slowly, his hand went to rest around your thigh again.

Ignoring the warmth of his palm on your skin, you cleared your throat. "Ready?"

He nodded stiffly, and you went back to work. After the cut had stopped bleeding, you were quick to grab the gauze and bandages. Tenderly, you placed the gauze above his wound, then wrapped the bandages around his face, from the top of his head to below his chin. This was the closest you had ever been to him, and you could feel and hear both his and your breathing in the quiet silence of the infirmary, with no living signs of life aside from the two of you on the infirmary bed and the dim orange hue of the oil lamp.

You could feel his intense gaze on you from his one good eye, while you concentrated on tying a secure knot so it wouldn't fall loose. The moment felt oddly intimate, knowing how sensitive his temper had been ever since he arrived back at camp, scarred in ways not even ambrosia could heal fully.

His hand resting around your thigh felt hot, and you tried to ignore how it your mind subconsciously kept track of every time his thumb would brush over the material of your pants.

"Next time.." You hinted, hopefully not crossing his boundaries. "If this happens again, you come straight here, got it? I don't care if I'm sleeping or attending someone else. You are not allowed to take care of a wound like this yourself, especially since I remember how reckless you can be."

Luke Castellan may be an excellent swordsman, but his cockiness was one weakness that he failed to keep controlled, and on days where it won over, he would always end up at the infirmary with a bashful smile as he tried to explain to you on how he ended up with a dislocated shoulder. That felt like eons ago, when that cheeky smile would always be present on his face, his signature move in getting away with any chaos he caused.

Staring at him now, you caught sight of that smile for such a split second you could've sworn you mistook it.

You couldn't stop the teasing smile that slipped past your stern attitude. "Was that a smile I saw, Castellan?"

He cleared his throat, his face falling back into practiced nonchalance, wearing a frown too forced to be real. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I may be sleep-deprived because a certain someone decided midnight was the best time to ransack an infirmary, but I'm not blind. For making me work overtime, I at least deserve to know what you found so amusing."

He made a face, and you were sure if his face wasn't tightly bandaged, he would roll his eyes in exasperation. "I wasn't amused. Just don't remember you being this.. unhospitable with someone that's injured. And I am not reckless."

You scoffed, causing him to look over at you. "I'd say trying to steal from an infirmary is pretty reckless. I thought Hermes kids were supposed to be good in stealing?"

You realised all too late that you may have touched on a sensitive topic, with the mention of his father, but he didn't seem to notice over the frank insult of being called a bad thief.

"I am excellent in stealing." He bit back so quickly, you choked on a snort. Hermes kids and their egos. "I was just going easy on you because you were knocked out at your desk. Oh, and you snore, you know that?"

"I do not."

"Do too."

"You're a liar and a thief. Don't get why your reputation is as marvelled upon as it is, Castellan. You don't live up to the hype at all."

"Oh, and what about you, Miss Sunshine?" He retorted. "Aren't you suppose to be the famous sweetheart who sings all injuries away with a smile on your face?"

"Don't call me that ever again." You must have looked extremely repulsed because he let out a laugh so genuine, it wiped any disgust off your face at the sound of pure heaven flooding into your ears. God, you forgot he could laugh like that.

"Yeah, I suppose it doesn't suit you, does it?" He murmured. "Maybe Apollo kids are only nice when others are around to see it."

"You've only come back meaner, Castellan." You scoffed. "I almost regret helping you. Would much rather see you stumble over trying to deal with this yourself if I knew you'd be so ungrateful."

"Sounds righteous of you." He nodded with a sarcastic hum. "Leaving me to bleed out to death while you watch. I understand why the camp has such high stakes when it comes to survival now. Never knew there was a sadist hiding in you, sunshine."

"I told you not to call me that." You reminded. "And I'm doing the best I can to keep everyone here alive so don't come to my infirmary talking about stakes when I've just saved your ass from blood loss."

Your response triggered something in him and he grew silent, his gaze locked on you as if analyzing you. That was when you're really reminded of how awful you must've looked. With your bed hair, sunken-in dark circles and sunken shoulders from the lack of sleep, you did not exactly feel the most confident. You didn't know what happened to make the casual atmosphere disappear as fast as it did, but you were anxious that somehow, you had shut him up again and you'd never get the chance to see him that way again, with his playful banter and light-heartedness of a teenage boy that he should have.

"You shouldn't have to." He muttered, almost to himself rather than to you. A seriousness unlike the previous few quips he'd thrown at you took ahold of him, and you had a feeling this was a slither of who he had really become through his rapid transformation, hidden under the jokes and sarcasm.

"What?"

"You shouldn't have to." He repeated a little louder, trying to get you to see his point. A point he'd been trying to tell Chiron, his friends even- ever since he came back here, only to be meet with pitying looks like he was a madman who spoke nonsense to try and make sense of his failure. "Lives should not be your responsibility. You're younger than me, and yet, you're dealing with kids that are near death's door every time they make it past that barrier. I barely made it back here. Some don't even.."

Luke tried to breathe, remembering how he got to camp in the first place. The unnecessary sacrifice that had to be made, the tree that now rests at the barrier of camp, the sound of thunder and pouring rain beating at his face.

"Now, I'm stuck with this disgusting scar of my face for the rest of my life, a stupid reminder every single time I look at myself, that I failed my only chance at proving I was something more than just wasted potential. Now I've gone and screwed it up for everyone because I couldn't do some easy quest someone else already accomplished-" He winced suddenly, grabbing onto the bandaged part of his face that seemed to grow more irritated and inflamed as he spoke.

You were quick to reach for his hand, knowing his aggression may harm the wound more. "It is not disgusting." You answered for him, and slowly, your hand rested over his, removing it from his face so he wouldn't accidentally cause the wound to start bleeding again. "You are not a failure, Luke."

"Don't take pity on me by saying words you don't mean." He muttered. "Everyone expected me to succeed, I could feel it in their gaze when they looked at me. I was supposed to be the best, and just because everyone told me that, I believed it. Now, I'm nothing but a disappointment to everyone."

He didn't know why he was saying all this to you. Maybe because you were the only person to treat him normally in the past two weeks, to really listen instead of trying to get him to move on, and maybe because his heart felt like it was growing too heavy to carry on his own. The insecurity and vulnerability made him feel sick, and he found himself trying to tear his hands away from you out of the need to run, which only made him feel more disgusted with himself. Like a coward, his mind taunted.

You remained stubborn, holding onto his cold palms because you know he has had no warmth, no real genuine words spoken to him since he returned. No one to see him when it was clear he was suffering, that he needed all the time in the world and more to heal, and that he deserved more than self-loathing and an absent father who sentenced him to this fate.

"I am not pitying you." You insisted, and you leaned closer so he couldn't look away from you. "Your scar does not make you ugly or less valuable to anyone. It is not pity, it is a fact. You are a person who has survived a fate so close to death, and any feat to survive death is strength. You are strong, and you made it back here alive with a scar to prove it. It is not a sign of weakness."

"Anyone who tells you different has no right or say in your situation because they did not go through what you did." You said with a stern voice, your anger not towards him, but for him. "Not your father, not anyone."

Luke finally looked at you, like looked. His eyes were scanning all over your face as if not quite believing you were real, but the fire in your eyes was so magnetic, he couldn't look away. The pinch between your brows, the addictive warmth of your hands in his, and the close distance between the two of you, and yet, it didn't make his skin itch with the need to pull away. To hide in his corner and wallow over the heavy weight of knowing his world had ended in the Garden of the Hesperides. Or had it?

Your eyes looked right through him, and for once, he felt like there was someone there for him.

"I suppose I can see where your reputation comes from now, sunshine." He responded weakly, and his heart gave a thump when you smiled back at him.

"Healing's what I understand best." You shrugged casually, as if you didn't just silence his thoughts for a moment of peace, or that you have somehow dulled the internal blades that bled with self-hatred and world-consuming anger pointed at himself, and at the injustice of the gods who could not give a damn about their children. “If I can help you even a little, why shouldn’t I?”

He could feel time ticking again in the back of his mind, the night slowly passing into a new one, and he thinks as he holds your gaze, that maybe this world wouldn't be so painful to live in if he had someone to look at him the way you did.

"I don't know how I'm going to go back to normal. Or if I'll ever be normal again." He admitted, softer in his voice now that his mind didn't deem you as a threat.

"Normal can be lots of things." You said with a comforting smile. "It's normal to have a breakdown when you've nearly faced death. Multiple even. It's normal to feel fine one moment then not in the next. Healing isn't linear, and when you come to terms that you have a right to feel upset and a right to exist without being held to any expectations of others or what you think others want from you, it'll feel easier to just allow yourself to exist throughout the day. Not the perfect camp counsellor or a hero with no faults. Just as yourself."

He let your words sink in, his thumbs subconsciously rubbing over your knuckles, feeling the healed scars of your own from what he assumed must be from previous combat training. "I'm not that great as myself. You might find me disappointing."

You quirked your lips at that, and shook your head. "I don't believe in that one bit. You're already great just as you are now."

He raised a brow. "Even after trying to steal from your infirmary and having a mental breakdown past curfew?"

"Well, just be glad I was around because I'm much more understanding than Will would be with four hours of sleep."

"I am glad." He insisted. "That it's you."

"I'm glad it was me too." You reassured. "It is midnight though and there's Capture the Flag tomorrow, meaning someone's going to end up whining and moping in here in about eight hours so why don't you let me close shop and come by tomorrow, Castellan?"

"Luke." He corrected, giving you a smile you're sure must be the one the other campers rave about all the time. The charming one that made your heart stutter, even with half his face bandaged and eyebags resting below his caramel eyes.

"Luke." You tested it on your tongue tentatively, and it only seemed to spark an electricity between the two of you that you were sure he must've felt too. In the dark corner of the infirmary, with nothing but crickets and your hushed voice, you spoke again with a heavy heart when you needed to tell him to leave. "I have to close this place up or someone else might try and steal from the medicine cabinet, not that I thought it was possible before but.."

"Fine." He complied, getting off the bed and rising to his full height, towering over you and blocking the moonlight from your view. "I'll wait outside and walk you back to your cabin. It's the least I could do."

You tried not to seem too elated over the idea that you could spend a little more time with Luke, though you're sure your glowing smile must've shown. "Sure you're not just trying to improve your image around me, thief?"

He smirked, following you out to the front door while you wrestled for the keys in your pocket to lock up for the night. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"What are you smiling about?"

You looked up from your daze to see Luke leaning over the door frame, watching you with a smirk over his face.

"Can't a girl smile just for the sake of it?" You bit back, cheeks flushing at the idea that he could've possibly seen your focus lingering a little too long on the bed he had sat on. "Why'd you drop out of Capture the Flag? You know your cabin's going to lose their streak to Ares at this point."

"Wanted to see someone." He replied with a shrug, pushing off the door frame to walk towards where you sat, leaning over your desk and watching you compile the latest stock of ambrosia into a box. "Plus, Athena and Hermes are joining for today so Annabeth's got it handled."

He shuffled his fingers along the edge of the table, outlining the curve before clearing his throat. "I heard you covering up for me just now, and I wanted to say thank you."

You looked up at him then, and his eyes seemed to convey that he was thanking you for more than just that. He looked like he wanted to say more, but didn’t know how to.

"Eavesdropping on me now?” You teased. “Careful or you might end up becoming obsessed with a poor, overworked healer."

He scoffed exaggeratedly. "You wish. Just take the thank you. Should've known not to show my gratitude to an Apollo kid."

You stuck your tongue out at him before going on about how mind-blowing it can be that some kids really did not have emotional intelligence when it came to basic decency. Listening to you ramble on as you went on to arrange your first aid kits, Luke realised for all the disappointment he has experienced in his life, maybe there was one good thing his father led him to.

a/n: Couldn't resist writing how this duo met because I live and die for banter. inspired by 'my reputation's never been worse so you must like me for me' trope which is what i live and breathe for. His reputation as the perfect golden boy is in shambles, and sunshine couldn't care less.

taglist: @stars4birdie @elysiandumbash @kehlanislefttoe @mqg125 @madzlovez @0revna0 @auroraofthesun1 @idli-dosa @buubsii @kaylasficrecs @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @itsdragonius @moonlightfoxs-cantina

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan x apollo!reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan fic #luke castellan x y/n

[doe-eyed-fool]

Hi, I just discovered your page and am enjoying the Alastor and Lucifer fics, I was wondering if you could do an Alastor x Reader Wedding edition from Proposal/ Ceremony/Honeymoon? and also a tidbit of their marriage/Parenthood? Same for Lucifer? if it's not too much?

Married Life

Alastor x Reader | Lucifer x Reader

Thank you! I'm glad you like my fics, it makes me very happy! Enjoy~

Alastor

Proposal-

Alastor never thought he'd love someone like he does you. All his life he's gone without the need for romance. He's never had any interest in such things. But then you came along, and turned everything upside down.

You made him feel things he never thought he could. Of course these things take time, and even longer for Alastor. He had to make sure he was serious about this. He had to make sure you were serious about this. He would not give his heart to just anyone. You had to earn it and his trust.

And earned it you did. Yes he never thought he'd find love in all his years living and in death. Even more so, he never thought he'd ever do something like this. But here he was, on one knee, asking for your hand in marriage. Of course you said yes, and he couldn't have been happier.

Ceremony-

The wedding would most likely take place in Cannibal Town. Rosie would have been a huge help in arranging the ceremony. After all, Alastor was a good friend, and she'd do anything for him and his soon to be bride/groom. She would even be the one to wed you both.

Husk believe it or not, was Alastor's best man while Mimzy was your maid of honor. (and you know she injured a few girls to catch that bouquet)

Alastor couldn't ignore the sudden quickening pace of his heart as you walked down the isle. His smile was genuine, and his chest fluttered with excitement as you approached. (if he wasn't hiding his tail everyone would have seen it wagging)

Alastor silently dared anyone to speak up when the whole "object now or forever hold your peace" part came up. And best believe that crowd was silent.

When you both were offically married, Alastor held you close as he kissed you softly. The kiss may have lasted a bit too long, but again, no one dared to speak up and ruin this moment.

Honeymoon-

Alastor would have planned a trip to the Wrath Ring (let's forget sinners can't travel through the rings), where you'd stay in a lovely cabin in the woods. It sorta reminded Alastor of home, being in the woods. It was peaceful considering the area. Nice and secluded too, you wouldn't be disturbed.

And if someone tried, well, Alastor would quickly see that taken care of...

There was a large meadow within the woods behind the cabin. The two of you could stay there for hours, just listening to the sounds of nature all around. It was a much needed break from the city life back in the Pride Ring.

Alastor was a wonderful cook and impressed you every day with a delicious meal. He'd even teach you how to cook certain dishes that his mother taught him. (she would have been so proud of him)

The two of you didn't want it to end, but alas, it was nearing time for you to return. Not to worry, there would be plenty more trips like this planned for you two newlyweds.

Parenthood-

This was a huge step for Alastor. He's never disliked children by any means, but having his own...

Nothing really scared Alastor (that we know of), but this was... something that kept him "on edge". Of course, there would need to be a very long and thought out discussion about having children. Alastor would also need some time to really think about it. He was thankful you would allow him that time, no matter how long it took.

Eventually, he would come to a decision. If you two have children of your own, he'd still be nervous. But once he see his newborn in your arms, something stirs deep within him. He just stared at it for a while, then he worked up the courage to actually hold them. And that was what did it.

There was that genuine smile again, that same thump in his chest again. Pride was a good word for it, but love was better. Alastor was sure right then, he didn't need to be worried anymore, or ever again.

If you two adopt, he will love the child all the same. He'd teach them how to cook, how to play piano, and absolutely how to defend themselves. Alastor couldn't have been more proud when his child picked up a few skills he taught them.

Alastor's children would be just as deadly as him eventually, but he would always look out for them and protect them from whatever threatens to harm them.

Lucifer

Proposal-

This man has never been more nervous in his life. He wanted this so bad, and he'd be damned if he lets his fear get in the way. You weren't Lilith, you wouldn't leave him like she did. If he thought you would, he wouldn't be working up the nerve to propose to you.

Lucifer would do everything romantic he could think to do for this proposal. It would happen at his home, private you know? A nice dinner he made himself. Romantic music. Soft lighting. Rose petals scattered here and there. He even dressed himself in his best suit for the occasion.

Lucifer was practically shaking when you showed up. He got some relief when you admired how everything was set up. He would wait for just the right moment before asking the big question.

He was absolutely over the moon when you said yes, he even cried a little....a lot. He cried a lot, sobbing practically. He was just so damn happy you wanted to marry him.

Now all he had to do was plan the perfect wedding...

Ceremony-

When Lucifer told Charlie that you and him were getting married, she was just as emotional as he was. She insisted you two got married in the hotel. Of course you agreed. So sure, why not?

Charlie and Lucifer would be working double time to make sure everything was perfect. And of course everyone else helped out too. When Charlie had a free moment, she and Vaggie would take you dress/suit shopping. Angel insisted he come along too, cause you're not going to go shopping for such an event without him. He knew how to dress to impress after all.

Charlie would be Lucifer's best woman, because there is no way in literal hell is he going to ask Alastor. While Angel would be your maid of honor. And of course Fat Nuggets would be the ring bearer, as per Angel's request. No arguments there.

If you thought Lucifer was emotional during the proposal, you should see him as you make your way down the isle. He was so excited that he couldn't even get mad that Alastor was the one walking you down. All he could see in this moment was you.

Once you reach him, you take his hands and you could see the love in his eyes. Husk would be the one to wed you both, even his grumpy self was smiling as he pronounced you both married. Lucifer wasted no time as he dipped you and kissed you so very passionately. He almost forgot there were people watching, so he eased up a bit. For now...

Charlie couldn't have been more happy for her dad. She gave him a warm hug before watching you two join hands and walk the isle. Soon you two would be off on your honeymoon.

Honeymoon-

Your honeymoon would be spend in the Sloth Ring. (again, let's just forget sinners can't travel through the rings lol) It was one of the more relaxing places in Hell, and that's what your honeymoon would be about. Relaxation. And of course it would be spent to the very last second filled with love and affection.

Lucifer would have rented a beautiful air bnb home, right on the lakeside. It was perfect for spending time on the deck and watching the pentagram sun set.

Lucifer would have also planned all sorts of fun things to do on the honeymoon. Some activities for couples, but mostly just having fun doing whatever.

Ya'll just know Lucifer would be an excellent cook. Every night he would make a delicious meal for the two of you. He'd let you help out too if you wanted. You might even learn something new.

The last night spent there would be the most romantic night of all. The two of you stayed in and slow danced to an old song you both loved. You don't know how long you stayed in each other's arms, but you didn't care. Neither of you wanted it to ever end.

And it never would, now that you two would spend the rest of eternity together.

Parenthood-

This next step would be big for the both of you. Lucifer was worried about being a parent again, after what happened with him and Charlie. He didn't want to mess up again and ruin the relationship he would have with his next son/daughter.

He was grateful you were there to ease his worries. He wanted so badly to make up for his past mistakes. He was already trying his best to be a better father for Charlie, he would be sure to do the same for his next kid.

If you gave birth to his baby, there would be a new swell of pride within him. You and him created such a beautiful thing together. And he would love this baby unconditionally and protect you and them with his very life.

If you two adopt, he would be just as happy. He had the chance to give this child a better life than they had. He'd love them and care for them, and would always keep them safe.

Charlie would be excited to be a big sister, which made Lucifer happier than anything. He loved his kids so much. He loved you so much. In the end, Lucifer would never let anything happen to his family.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin lucifer x reader

[nayziiz]

Come Home | LN4

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader (she/her)

Author's note: I'm trying something a little bit different with shorter form fics, so please send through any requests or feedback. These one shots will likely not have a second part unless it really speaks to me to continue with it. Thank you!

Masterlist

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting hues of orange and pink across the sky of Monte Carlo, she sat alone in the cosy living room of their apartment, her fingers anxiously tapping on her phone screen. It had been several weeks since she last felt the comforting warmth of his embrace, his familiar scent wrapping around her like a protective shield against the world's chaos. Work commitments and race weekends had kept them apart for longer than either of them had anticipated, and with each passing day, the ache of his absence grew more pronounced.

The apartment felt emptier without him, his laughter no longer echoing through the halls, his belongings neatly tucked away in drawers and closets, waiting for his return. She longed for the simple pleasure of having him home, to share mundane moments that held a special magic when they were together.

After a particularly exhausting day at work, all she craved was the solace of his arms, the reassurance of his presence. She had tried calling him several times throughout the day, but each attempt went unanswered, his phone seemingly out of reach. Anxiety gnawed at her insides as she imagined all sorts of scenarios, her mind spiralling with worry.

Perhaps he had gotten caught up in meetings or encountered unexpected delays on his journey home. Or maybe his phone had died, and he was currently en route, completely unaware of her attempts to reach him. But as the minutes stretched into hours, her concern morphed into a deep-seated fear, a nagging voice whispering worst-case scenarios in her ear.

Unable to sit still any longer, she rose from the couch and began pacing the length of the living room, her heart pounding against her chest like a caged bird desperate for freedom. Every passing second felt like an eternity, each unanswered call a sharp stab of disappointment.

But just as despair threatened to consume her entirely, the familiar sound of keys jingling in the lock filled the air, and her breath caught in her throat. With trembling hands, she rushed to the door, flinging it open to reveal the silhouette of the man she loved, his tired eyes lighting up at the sight of her.

Before she could utter a word, Lando enveloped her in a tight embrace, his arms providing the sanctuary she had been yearning for. In that moment, everything else faded into the background, leaving only the two of them, tangled together in a silent embrace.

“I'm so sorry I couldn't get back to you earlier,” he murmured against her hair, his voice thick with emotion.

“You’re home, that’s all that matters,” she assured him.

“I’ll always come home to you, baby,” he told her before pressing a kiss on her forehead.

And as she melted into his embrace, she knew that no matter how far apart they may be, they would always find their way back to each other, their love serving as a guiding light through even the darkest of nights.

#lando norris #formula 1 #f1 fic #lando norris fic #lando norris fanfic #lando norris smut #lando norris imagine #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula one #mclaren #mclaren racing #mclaren f1 #lando norris x oc #lando norris x reader #f1 driver x reader #f1 x reader #ln4 x reader #lando x you #lando norris x you #lando norris fluff #lando x reader #ln4 #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 fluff

[dollfacefantasy]

Hey girly, love ur writing!!! could you do a leon x fem reader and they are doing the deed and there are other people there are they are tryna stay quiet 🤭🤭 like i lowk imagine leon being kinda needy but idk! thank u girl!!

thank you so much and ofc, here's a little drabble for this <3

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, exhibitionism (someone else in the room)

"Leon. Be quiet. He's gonna wake up," you whine, taking extra care to keep your voice lowered.

"I'm trying, baby. Not my fault you're so fucking tight," he murmurs against the shell of your ear.

You had picked up your boyfriend and his friend Chris from the airport earlier that day. It was a long drive. Apparently their sectors of the government didn't have the competence to drop them a little bit closer to where you lived. You had insisted on just driving through the night, but Leon and Chris were exhausted. They wanted to stretch out on a bed and pass out for the night. Even if the hotel you'd come across only had one available room left.

You feel another moan about to seep from Leon's lips. In an effort to prevent this, you dig your nails into his forearm which was over your chest. His hand rested on your throat, giving him leverage to continue plowing into you from behind.

The little crescents do nothing to silence him and only serve to turn his low pitched moan into a needy whine.

"Leon, shut up!" you whimper.

Your eyes are locked on Chris as your boyfriend ruts into you. His hips smack against your ass, but he's not going fast enough to make any disturbing noise.

"Hush, honey, he sleeps like a fucking rock, trust me," he whispers.

He aims to reassure you with some wet kisses behind your ear. You knew this was wrong and that you should've protested. If Chris did wake up, you'd be humiliated and guilty. But fuck, he just felt so good.

His cock keeps sliding into your soaked cunt just right. Each stroke hits another mark of pleasure. It was a miracle you were able to keep some semblance of composure. To keep yourself quiet, you clutch the blankets in your fists though, so hard it nearly pains you. Leon didn't have the same discipline. This entire time his panting and whimpering drips right into your ear. The noises were among your favorites in the world, always guranteed to make you squirm.

"That's it. That's a good girl," he coos upon hearing no further protests, "Just relax for me, babydoll."

The thought was a persuasive one. You could feel yourself beginning to melt into the crisp hotel sheets just like how you would in your own bed at home. Half of your face presses against the pillow case. His hips never stop moving beneath the blankets. He couldn't get enough of your velvety warmth wrapped around him.

As you feel yourself starting to build to that sweet release, you see Chris start to shift. Your eyes had been locked on him the whole time, preparing for this exact scenario. Panic floods your mind. Had he been awake since the beginning? Had he been watching? Was he pissed?

Your heart pounds even harder against your ribcage as your fingers release the blanket and return to his arm.

"Leon!" you gasp.

He can tell from the infliction in your tone that it's not a gasp of ecstasy. His thrusts come to a screeching halt. His eyes that were half-lidded with a combination of lust and fatigue open a little more. He spots the same movement you did.

Fairly certain it was some usual tossing and turning, he pulls you closer to his chest and nuzzles the side of your head.

"Stay quiet, babe. We're gonna be fine," he whispers even quieter than before.

The two of you do exactly that. You stay still and silent. It was kind of nice, the calm feeling of just being full without any sparks of pleasure. But Leons arm begins to move.

Your eyes dart down and watch his limb slither below your t-shirt and up to your breast, taking one of the warm mounds in his hand. He just rests it there as the both of you continue to pretend to sleep as if he needed to feel more of you. Being buried inside of you just wasn't enough to sate his desire.

As soon as Chris has settled facing the opposite direction and you're both confident he's fast asleep, Leon begins pumping his hips again. And with the return of the movement, comes the return of his noises. He grunts, groans, mewls. Anything he needs to in order to spur on his own release.

You just let him this time without any complaints, figuring he may finish and get you to finish a bit faster with the lack of bickering.

His cock begins to pulse within you. As his thrusts get sloppier and a bit more erratic, you know the end is near. Your hand delves down between your legs, pads of your fingers rubbing at your clit a little to give yourself that extra friction needed to join him.

He cums first. His hips stop, pelvis flush against your backside. At first, you're sure he's gonna wake someone. His noises are only a little louder, but they're much more frequent. You feel him spill every drop within you as he shoots rope after rope. You're not far behind and cum a few seconds later. Your legs twitch as your walls clamp down around his already sensitive length, drawing more needy sound from him.

While the two of you come down, he murmurs into your ear. His words are all breathy from the bliss that had just entered his system.

"Christ, angel. So perfect for me," he says with a small kiss to your head.

You reciprocate the affection, but some anxiety still lingers within you.

"You really think he didn't hear?" you ask, looking up into his eyes for reassurance.

"No way. We're clear," he says, granting your wish before grinning at you, "Besides, if he did, I'm sure he'd enjoy the show."

Your eyes widen at his little clip and you lightly pinch his bicep. "Shut up. For real this time," you tease.

"You got it, boss," he says, planting one more kiss on your lips.

You roll your eyes but still get comfy in bed as he pulls out and fixes the two of you. After falling back into position, it's not hard to fall asleep. You fit against each other perfectly. His chest is so warm against your back. Everything just feels right, especially since you were sure you'd just pulled off the heist of the century.

You fall asleep on cloud nine but are quickly brought back to reality the next morning when the three of you check out. You're carrying your bags out while Chris holds the door for you. Leon's putting things in the trunk already, eager to get home and have some true alone time with you.

As far as you knew, you were in the clear. That was until Chris gave the room one last glace and then turned his gaze to you.

"The next set of people better hope they clean the sheets really well," he says with a teasing smile.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy smut #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #resident evil x you #smut

[axelsagewrites]

Hello,

Can you write an ivar x reader where, as a child reader had a crush on ivar and followed him around. He ends up saying mean things about her to his brothers, not realizing she can hear him. He ends up realizing he has feelings for her but she ends up moving away. Years later, she returns, and she's extremely pretty. Ivars hoping to confess how he feels, but his brothers have also noticed how pretty she's become.

Ivar the Boneless*Shy

Pairing: Ivar x f!reader

Word count: 2081

Warnings: being a shy kid, ivar being bullied by his brothers, ivar being mean as a kid, jealousy, ragnarsson brothers hitting on reader, angst fluff

Masterlist here

As the daughter of a Viking warrior and earl you were expected to be tough and ferocious and rambunctious and all other Viking traits. However, at five years old you were shy, timid, and terrified of Kattegat. You were here with your father on ‘business’ and had been practically clinging to the backs of his legs since you arrived.

It was Ragnar who suggested his sons show you around. Ten-year-old Ubbe took charge of that, giving you a tour around Kattegat as you silently nodded along. Eight-year-old Hvitserk and seven-year-old Sigurd couldn’t have cared less you were there so long as you were quiet when following them all around.

Five-year-old Ivar was sceptical at first, being equally as silent as you. Eventually you ended up at the edge of the forest sat beside Ivar as you watched the older three ‘train’ sword fighting with sticks. Ivar was angrily stabbing the dirt with his stick and didn’t even notice when you wondered off. However, he looked with interest when you returned, what looked like a hundred picked flowers in your apron.

You sat back beside him, dumping the flowers on the ground as you began to fashion a flower crown. “What are you doing?” Ivar’s voice made you jump making him mumble, “Sorry,” as he shuffled to see what you were creating.

“Daisy chains,” you told him, and you sat in silence as he watched you turn the hundred little flowers into a perfectly crafted crown. The whole thing was oddly fascinating for Ivar. “How does it look?” you asked as you placed it on your head.

Ivar grinned, “I love it,” and a toothy smile appeared on your face, “what else can you do?”

Soon you began to play games in the dirt, carving tik tac toe into it with the stick he’d been using earlier. You were laughing away so oblivious you didn’t realise the older boys had gotten bored and wandered off till you heard something howl in the distance.

“Where did they go?” you asked panicked.

“They do that sometimes,” Ivar shrugged. He’d gotten used to his brothers’ antics, but he’d been so wrapped up in the game he hadn’t noticed this time, “We’ll be fine, don’t worry,” another howl, “Okay maybe worry a little,”

Unfortunately, still Ubbe had been the one to carry him here. Ivar tried to pull himself along but soon you were trying to pull him through the forest. “I hate this!” he pouted, trying to pull away.

“It’ll be easier if you’re still!” you snapped, pulling his arms harder in frustration. “Wait here,” you dropped him with a huff as you went to grab a fallen branch.

“What are you doing?”

“Use it like a walking stick,” you said, hooking your arm around his back like in a three-legged race.

“This wont work,” he huffed making you glare. Begrudgingly he tried the crutch and a small washed over his face in a few steps. “I’m walking!”

“You’re walking!” you gleefully joined in as you helped him out the Forrest as the sun began to set. More laughter followed you on the way home though you had no idea that Aslaug had already found his brothers and scolded them immensely when she realised, you’d both been left behind. The anger soon washed away as you and Ivar walked into view.

For the next few days, you and Ivar did everything together. You were essentially attached at the hip. One evening while playing inside the Lodbrok’s house due to the storm outside Aslaug called you to the other room to rebraid your now messy hair.

“Bye boys. Bye Ivar,” you grinned before running to join Aslaug, all shyness gone.

“Bye Ivar,” Hvitserk and Sigurd teased, blowing kisses at Ivar.

“Shut up,” he grumbled.

“Is she your girlfriend?”

“Are you gonna marry her?”

“Please what girl wants to marry a cripple?”

“Have you kissed her yet?” even Ubbe joined in the teasing now and any semblance of calm was soon gone.

“No!” Ivar screeched. “I don’t even like her!”

“You’re right,” Ubbe smirked, “you love her,” more fake kissing noises came from the three of them.

“Do not!” another screech came from him. He hadn’t seen Aslaug stand from the other room to come see what the fuss was all about, nor did he see you by her ankles, “She’s ugly and weird and I hate her!”

“Ivar!” Aslaug’s voice was the only one louder than Ivar’s. You however didn’t even wait before turning on your heels and running out the house into the storm. “No, wait!” Aslaug tried to stop you, but your feet were too fast.

 You came burling up to your father, burying your head in his legs sobbing. “I want to go home. I hate it here. I hate it!” and for the rest of your trip which was thankfully only another day you clung to his side again. You vowed as you rode away, you’d never return.

-

The glares Ivar was getting from his mother could cut glass. “why would she play with you after all those things you said?” she hissed after pulling him aside.

“I didn’t mean it,” he mumbled, already on the verge of tears when you refused to play with him all day before leaving, “she wasn’t supposed to hear it,”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have said it,”

-

Ivar was convinced you’d come back. a week later, maybe a month. Possibly a year. He kept changing the goal post when you never came. He got his hopes up at one point when he saw your father but was disappointed when he realised, you’d been allowed to stay home this time. The more years that passed the more he forgot.

He was shocked when he saw you again in the first time in over a decade. He almost didn’t recognise you at first, but you could say the same about him. You weren’t some shy, meek little girl anymore. You wore an infection smile, you laughed loudly, and you were downright gorgeous. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only one to notice.

Its all his brothers had been talking about since you arrived this morning. “I hope mother has them over for dinner tonight,” Hvirserk said as the boys practised their axe throwing, “See if she wants to catch up,” the way he wiggled his brow made Ivar want to throw his axe at him.

Especially when the other two joined in with their agreements. “Please as if you have a chance brother,” Ubbe smirked, flinging the axe and almost hitting the bullseye, “Girl like that needs a real man,”

With a growl Ivar flung his own axe into the bullseye, knocking Ubbe’s out of place in the process before dragging himself away before he sunk his next axe in someone’s eye. “Talk about someone with no chances,” he heard Sigurd laugh as he stalked away.

-

You didn’t come over for dinner that night like they’d all hoped but rather the next day they saw you in the hall as your fathers celebrated their latest decision to go raiding together. You’d came in later than most and eyes were drawn to you instantly.

“Red is defiantly her colour,” Hvitserk slurred beside him, already several ales in, “I’m going to talk to her,” he tried to stand but Ubbe put a hand on his shoulder.

He pushed him back into his seat, “Brother you’re drunk. You’ll scare her of. Allow me to welcome her,”

“Please if you don’t want to scare her, I should go,” Sigurd joined the protests.

None of them except Ivar whose eyes never left you had noticed you walking straight for them, “Hello boys. Long time no see,” you smiled, even sending a small one to Ivar which made him wonder if you’d forgotten the whole affair.

“Well, well, look who it is,” Ubbe grinned, going in for a hug that made Ivar want to rip his skin off, “You look so different,” he said as he pulled away.

“Good different,” Hvitserk jumped in, “I barely recognised you,”

“I thought you always looked beautiful but now you’re just- “Sigurd rambled as you awkwardly blushed praying for them to stop. “a woman now,”

“Thanks?” you said, glancing down at Ivar, “Ivar,” all he could do was nod in response, scared anything he said would make it worse. “Well, I need to say hello to my family. I’ll see you boys around,” oh gods how he’d fucked this up.

-

While many were still in the hall drinking there had been a bonfire lit in the village square that Ivar was now staring into blankly. He’d left the festivities a while ago though he knew he wouldn’t be missed. There were a few people sitting around the fire, most with ale in their hands or a woman on their arms being obnoxious. If his legs didn’t hurt, he’d go into the forest to get away from them all.

“Hey,” a small, timid voice came from behind him making him turn. “Can I sit?” it was like you were children again, him permanently silent and you scared to even move.

Ivar nodded before turning back to the fire as you moved to sit beside him. You sat in silence for a few moments, staring into the flames. The fire was a good excuse for why Ivar’s cheeks felt so hot, but he knew deep down it was because of you.

“How have you been- “

“I’m sorry,” the words came spluttering out his mouth before he could think, his head whipping round to face your shocked expression, “For everything I said. I didn’t mean it, but I said it and I hated myself for it,” he paused when you stayed silent, turning back to the flames, “I doubt you even remember it. It was so long ago,”

A moment passed before you spoke even quieter than before, “I remember,” the words made his heart shatter, “I used to hate you,” somehow it broke more.

“And now?”

You turned to him with a small smile, “Now I’m not five anymore,” a smile crept onto his own face, “Besides if I’m to move here ill need someone to keep me company,” you grinned, nudging his knee with your own.

“You’re moving here?”  Ivar felt his heart light up as you chuckled, nodding to confirm his glee. Then a sinking feeling hit him, “Did you tell my brothers yet?”

Ivar would be lying if he said the grimace on your face didn’t fill him with joy, “Not yet. You’re the only one of them who looked at my face the whole night,” you chuckled. He laughed but he felt his cheeks tinge pink, “They’re an interesting bunch, ill give them that. also, who’s Margaret?”

“What?” Ivar spluttered as you shrugged.

“Some girls told me to be careful after they saw me talking to Ubbe,”

He couldn’t help laughing a little, “Oh you’ve missed so much,”

“Good thing we’ve got plenty of time to catch up,” you grinned.

-

For the next week you were inseparable. Attached at the hip almost. It brought a smile to Aslaug face and a grimace to every boy your age. You’d both heard the subtle jabs about your closeness from his brothers, especially Sigurd, but somehow when you would put your hand on his clenched fist under the table, he felt his anger melt away.

You also seemed to be the only one who did not notice his legs. Right now, you were both sat by a tree on the edge of a lake as Ivar stared across the water and you worked daisies into your flower crown. “You’re improving,” he teased, seeing this one was in a much better state than your previous attempts.

“Please, id like to see you try,” you snorted, “You’re too rough to even make one chain,”

“I’m not rough with you,” he defended, and his heart melted at the small smile on your face.

“I know,” there was a breeze in the air, a slight chill that made you huddle closer, and no one else around to ruin the quiet. Ivar didn’t even protest when your head eventually made its way onto his shoulder, and you said nothing when his arm went around yours. For once everything was perfect. Especially when Ivar finally brought up the courage to say what he’d been thinking since the moment you reappeared in his life.

“I think I’m falling in love with you,”

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#ivar the boneless #ivar the boneless angst #ivar the boneless fluff #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar ragnarsson #ivar ragnarsson x reader #ivar ragnarsson fluff #ivar ragnarsson angst #ivar lothbrok #ivar lothbrok x reader #ivar lothbrok fluff #ivar lothbrok angst #ivar lodbrok #ivar lodbrok x reader #vikings x reader #ivar fluff #ivar angst

[oracle-of-dream]

hi can you do a xiaojun x male reader smut?

I totally can, I've already been trying to write something for him so I'll put it here! It's gonna be in parts so hang tight <3

Never Really Alone

Minors DNI

Summary: A feeling, at the corner of your mind. Always with you–even when you know you're alone. Someone's watching you, following you, getting closer...

Warnings: Male Reader, Stalking, Thunderstorms, Psychological terror, Fear of darkness

Wordcount: 1.5k

As your eyes opened, dark circles under them, you felt it again. The same feeling you've been experiencing for the last few weeks. It feels like you're never truly alone–someone you can't see is always with you. At first, you believed it was just the feeling of settling into your new apartment. You moved in about a month ago, but the feeling followed you outside your apartment.

At Work. The Cafe. Walking down streets. Everywhere you went.

It was to the point that you couldn't stop looking over your shoulder, even in broad daylight. You'd bought a taser, keeping it with you always even when you went to bed. The extra security still never was enough to make you feel safe enough.

You didn't have anyone to talk to about it. You'd just moved because you started a new job, if you told any of your coworkers they'd think you're crazy. Calling your parents was out of the question, they'd see it as a reason to bring you back home. You even thought about seeing a therapist. You could only text your friends from back home, they made you feel heard but couldn't do anything to help you. You were alone.

Work was the only time that you felt okay. You were surrounded by people who were at least semi-familiar, and it made you feel comfortable. But one night, after a long day of work, there was chatter about a get-together of all your coworkers.

"Y/n, you'll come, right?" Your team lead asked.

"No, I'm sorry, not tonight. I... have to look after my cousin tonight," You lied.

Your coworkers didn't press you for more as they left to enjoy each other's company, leaving you alone again. Almost alone. The feeling returned as you walked out of the work building, rushing to get home. The clouds were dark, thunder sounded in the distance, and rain was coming. You liked the rain, the soft sound of rain distracted you from feeling watched. It sometimes even made you smile, having something else to be focused on for a change.

As you got to your apartment, hustling up the stairs, a man stood outside your door. It was your landlord, Xiaojun. He was a thinner man, with black hair, always having a tired look in his eyes–like he never slept, draped in a black sweater you had always seen him in. He was standing outside your door, holding a bundle of mail.

"Hi, y/n," His voice was deep and soothing. "I noticed you hadn't picked up your mail in a while, so I wanted to drop it off."

"Thank you, that's so nice." You put on a smile as you took the mail from him.

"Have a good night, watch out for the storm. I've heard some people have had outages. Call me if anything happens," Xiaojun said as he walked down the hallway before descending the stairs.

You entered your apartment and closed the door, sighing in relief. Xiaojun was a nice man, and you felt safe around him. He offered your apartment to you at a discounted rate, after mentioning how expensive all the others were. He always went out of his way to make you feel comfortable. He also looked pretty handsome when he wasn't super tired.

You put the mail on the counter and then realized–the feeling was gone. You didn't feel like you were being watched... The urge to break down and cry was too powerful as you sobbed silently. Your chest had a weight lifted off of it. But your celebration was short-lived. As soon as you started changing out of your work clothes, you felt a sharp coldness run up your back. It was back. Now you wanted to cry for different reasons.

You took your taser out of your bag and took it with you as you swept through your apartment, just like every day, checking your home. But, just like always, you never found anyone.

You returned to your mail and started to sort it right as your lights went out. Xiaojun mentioned power outages so this is probably it. The storm must've knocked it right out. You stumbled through the darkness that invited itself into your home until you found your phone–Xiaojun asked you to call him if anything happened so he must have a way to fix it...

The phone rang as you waited for him to pick up, the sound of the rain getting louder and less friendly.

"Hello?" Xiaojun's voice came out of your phone.

"Hi Xiaojun, it's y/n, we just spoke?"

"Of course, I know who you are, silly. Can I help you with something?"

"Yeah, you told me to call if my power went out. Is there anything you can do about this?"

Xiaojun was silent for a moment. "I can get a flashlight, and bring it to you if you don't have one. I'll also check your power box, in your laundry room, to see if the circuit tripped."

"I'd appreciate it." You hung up the phone and waited by the door for Xiaojun to arrive. You opened it cautiously as you heard the knock, your camera for the front door was also not working so you couldn't see who it was unless you opened it. A flashing beam of light hit your eyes as they tried to adjust.

"Sorry about that, y/n. I didn't mean to shine you like that." Xiaojun's voice rumbled dryly. You blinked a few times, waiting for the dazzling sensation to fade.

"It's alright, come in," You mumbled as you rubbed your eyes. You felt Xiaojun's arms hold you as he shifted past you, pushing the door with his broad shoulder. You shut the door and followed him as he navigated your apartment, using the flashlight to light the way.

"You live here alone, right?" Xiaojun asked, trying to make conversation.

"Yes, that's right."

"What about your parents?"

"They're far away... I moved out here for a job opportunity, but I'm still trying to see if it was all worth it." You shivered, "What about you?"

"My father passed away, leaving the building for me to rent out."

Xiaojun got to the breaker box and opened it. "Hold this for me?" He handed you the flashlight so he could use both hands to work. You didn't know much about what was happening as he fiddled with wires. "Got a girlfriend?"

"Not really my type."

"Boyfriend?"

"No, I don't have anyone in my life like that..." You sighed.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to–I was just wondering." Xiaojun tried to change the subject, "So how do you like the apartment?"

"It's nice. Cozy."

"Really? No issues, at all? You're the only tenant who doesn't complain about something in their apartment."

"Well..." You hesitated, thinking about the feeling. This was your chance to talk about it. For someone to finally understand. "There's been this... one thing."

"Oh?" Xiaojun said without looking at you.

Your jaw tightened. "I've been having a weird feeling since I moved in. Like I've been followed. It started in the apartment, then went outside. I only don't notice it when I'm at work..."

"That's strange. I haven't heard anything on the news or something. You should be careful, is there any other time you feel okay?"

You blushed at the answer, "Well, I don't feel it now."

"Now?"

"I think it's because you're here?"

"So I'm making you feel safe?" Xiaojun chuckled. "That's so cute. I'll keep you safe, anytime." Xiaojun smiled, trying to focus but couldn't stop thinking about you. He sucked his teeth in frustration. "I think I need to grab a tool, can you hold this in place? It's gotta stay like this for me to fix it." You nodded as Xiaojun guided your hand over his, pressing down on a bundle of wires. "Okay, I'll be right back, so stay put." Xiaojun hopped to his feet, taking the flashlight with him as he left you in the dark. The second you couldn't hear his footsteps anymore, your chest started filling with anxiety. You felt incredibly vulnerable, and you'd left your taser in the kitchen–not wanting to scare your landlord with it. Your breathing got heavier, shadows danced in your vision, and your hands shook as they were glued to the wires.

Then you felt it. The feeling, creeping up your back, was the most intense you'd ever felt. You couldn't hear or see anything, but every hair on your body stood on end.

"W-who's there!?" You shouted into the darkness.

The darkness responded with nothing but dead silence.

You could run to the kitchen, grab your taser, and hide somewhere. But what if you attack Xiaojun by mistake? You needed something, anything. Your mind raced, but even in your panic, you could hear something. Someone breathing. They were excited, ready for you to fight back. You felt more helpless than before. You were doomed from the start. They stepped into the laundry room, finally making a singular footstep.

You stood, trying to see who it was, but only saw a shadow. There was sudden pain, and then darkness.

You were knocked out cold...

To continue, click here!

#oracle of dreams #kpop x male reader #kpop x male reader smut #x male reader #kpop male reader #x reader #xiaojun #wayv #wayv smut #wayv xiaojun #wayv imagines

[horseshoegirl]

Set Me Alight: Part 8 - Salt and The Sea

📜Everyone has been on a Bob kick lately (I think), so this is coming right when it should! Let's see how Grace and Bob feel about all this. Shall we? 👀

‼️ - +18, Minors DNI, Strong Language, Original Female Character (s), Bradley Bradshaw x Natasha Trace, Bob Floyd x Original Female Character (This is all in their perspective), Angst, mentions of bullying, hurt, overheard fights, preventing a panic attack, frustration, and Grace being sad and done with Bullshit. 

#4.6k

Part 7 | Masterlist | Part 9

Present Day

Sixteen hours.

That's how long Bob's carefully guarded, carefully constructed walls took to crumble after all these years.

There was an inkling the night before as he settled into his tent, a feeling that knocked once or twice from the inside of his chest. It wasn't there when he woke up this morning or during the trek here to the falls.

But the second Grace raced up behind him, everyone watching Veronica climb out of the water, that feeling returned. It seemed no longer content to sit around and wait for Bob to figure out why it had. 

Grace grasped his hand, pulling herself to hide behind his body so she could stifle her giggles into the back of his shoulder. Bob couldn't help the few snorts that shook through his body either. However, he pitied Javy, watching as he tried to console his girlfriend, who was stomping her foot like a three-year-old child over the fact that her makeup had been ruined.

The both of them couldn't say it wasn't an unwelcome sight. They knew what you had done, catching you hooking something onto the loop of Veronica's jeans, knowing it was damn well meant for Jake. Though the pair knew better than to act on it, they imagined themselves holding up a fist to the air, like in the Breakfast Club, silently praising the act of Karma on your behalf.

Maybe even quietly counting tallies next to your name in Bob's traveller's journal.

You needed a win. A big win against one of those two. They weren't going to say shit about it. They only wished, deep down, they could have helped.

But when Bradley took you by the arm, leading you way, another knock, this time harder, thumped in his chest. Another followed it. And another, until that feeling morphed into what Bob could only describe as a white-hot pain, burning every nerve in the pit of his stomach.

Bob knew what was about to happen.

While there hadn't been much to discuss, Bradley had pulled all the guys together after you went to bed last night to discuss his proposal. Standing in that circle, Bob realized it had been more of a pep talk than anything else.

Everyone already had a predetermined role—some part to play in helping Nat get to the right spot. Bob and Grace merely had to act surprised, with the rest of the group save Jake, you, and Rueben, when they eventually emerged from the bush, a shiny new ring hopefully on her finger.

It was a horrible plan, he had thought then. He knew—more so than most—that involving Jake and you in such an event would only result in disaster. He even had said as much to Grace when he turned in for the night, climbing into their shared tent.

Grace merely highlighted Nat's inconsiderate behaviour regarding your feelings, turning her back to him as she settled into her sleeping bag. The action was so absolute, so final, they said nothing else about it the rest of the night.

But laying awake, staring at Grace's back, Bob couldn't help but think about it. Grace was right. With all the shit Jake and you threw at each other since the moment you two met, Nat would have to be completely stupid not to realize just how fucked up it was not to tell you Jake would be coming on this trip.

It wasn't the first time Grace brought it up, either. Bob knew how his girlfriend felt about Nat, you, the entire group, their inability to stand up for you, and their failure to separate themselves from Nat.

He'd be lying if he hadn't felt the same at one point or another.

But Bob knew why everyone didn't, why he didn't, and why, even to some extent, Jake didn't either, even if he was more verbal about it than anyone else.

From behind the scenes, everyone tried to protect you and themselves from a fallout with Natasha. Not the fallout itself but the aftermath. At that point, he had rolled on his back, trying to figure it all out from the safety and privacy of his tent.

But who was he kidding? There was nothing to figure out.

Nat's scandal was an anvil, and her history and behaviour were hanging over every person in the group by a single thread. Even in the years since it happened, since they had all left school and Grace and Cora joined the group, it still had everyone in a chokehold.

And you were oblivious to it all.

Bob wasn't sure when it happened, but it became an unspoken agreement to protect you from that truth. So they were burying it to keep the peace—at least, everyone but Bradley. Bob couldn't say what was happening inside his friend's head, nor would he ask him.

But nobody would go out of their way to upset the group's 'supposed' hierarchy—not when real friendships and relationships, whether made with Nat's influence or not, were at stake.

You had to deal with the brunt of it, and Bob would regret it every day for the rest of his life.

No kind words or assurances could help the cluster of nerves swimming in Bob's stomach when Grace hooked her arm through his. Leading him to a section of the pond free from tourists, she wanted to avoid the temper tantrum Javy and Rueben, to an extent, would have to deal with. Seeing fish in the water earlier and knowing Bob would get a kick out of trying to identify them, she welcomed the distraction.

But as the pair searched through their books to match the first fish they saw, the first shout vibrated through the air, and Bob felt like he was going to hurl.

There was no mistaking it for what it was. Nat was, for lack of a better word, shitting on you and Jake. It was loud. It was scary. And no matter where anyone went, it was impossible to block out the noise.

They stood there, staring down at the words and diagrams in their books, no longer interested in the fish, scared any movement or action would have them on a chopping block. Though her eyes blurred, Grace was sure there were no more fish to look at anyway, for they, too, would have felt the noise vibrate against the water and would have been scared away.

At least they felt like they were able to.

When it finally fell silent, Grace nervously reached for Bob's hand. She led them away from the water through a tiny gap in the bush, deep into the forest. She didn't dare stop, walking blindly for minutes until she saw a little nook encased by a massive tree.

Its branches hung low, as did those of the surrounding trees. Each covered the space in a vibrant green shade, offering a safe place from the events leading up to this moment. A giant, thick tree root rested above the ground, and Grace pulled Bob down as she sat upon it.

Neither one spoke, nervous to say anything. Birds, the wind and bugs filled this space instead. It could have been hours, though Grace started to play with Bob's fingers only minutes later. He let her slide her fingertips over his skin and grasp around each finger until she smoothly threaded each together. Over and over, she did this, never once altering her pattern or rhythm.

Grace was trying to ground herself. And for Bob, it made everything that much worse.

It had been sixteen hours to the dot since that first knock in his chest. And while Bob had admitted last night and perhaps now that the trip, the excuses, the group dynamic, Nat's behaviour—was hopelessly warped—the truth was he had known for days, months, maybe even years.

He'd simply shoved it all deep down under lock and key, partly for selfish reasons. Sixteen hours was merely all the time it took for that lock to break and for everything to come rushing back to the surface. Because while the person he loved was hurting on behalf of someone else, it was too silent in this forest, even at this distance. 

It was the lack of you and Jake tearing each other apart.

"I think something happened to Jake and Maeve," Bob said in a rough voice, finally finding the courage to speak.

Grace's hands froze, not moving an inch. She lifted her head, eyebrows knitting together. Bob didn't meet her gaze, too nervous to look away from their joined hands.

"It's too quiet," he offered softly. "Especially after that."

Grace also dropped her eyes to their hands, biting the inside of her cheek hard. "She'd be tearing into him right now. Forget Nat. Maeve would clear out the whole damn park with a single shout."

Bob nodded absentmindedly, turning his hand to mock Grace's earlier pattern, a silent gesture to let her know he had been paying attention.

"Or she'd be running off to apologize to Nat, and Jake would be seeking us out, tail between his legs."

"Nat should be the one apologizing to her."

Grace's statement was so blunt and sharp that Bob feathered his jaw. And something in that quick movement made a thread in Grace's gentle heart snap.

She tore her hand from Bob's grip and shuffled away from him further down the log. She swallowed hard, refusing to turn back and look at him as she fiddled with a ring on her finger. When Bob went to follow, naturally reaching for her like it was second nature, she shuffled again.

"No," she mumbled lowly, shying away from his touch. Bob frowned, sliding closer once again, softly calling her name. But Grace only pushed herself up from the log, her fists balled and clenched tight. "No!"

She stomped forward a few steps, not wanting to leave the found safety of their little nook. Threading her fingers through her hair, she paced back and forth, trying to count her breath.

"Grace..."

She spun wildly, her eyes narrowing, her lips pressing into a thin line, and her jaw clenching. "Don't 'Grace' me," she gritted out behind her teeth.

Bob dropped his forehead into the palm of his hand, his elbow digging hard into his knee. "Don't..."

"Don't what, exactly?" she seethed. "Don't talk about 'it'?

Bob dug his nails into the denim of his jeans - enough to feel a pinch through the fabric on his thigh.

The laugh Grace let out was bitter, morphing into a harsh shout. "Come on, Bob! Cora and I might have been the last ones to join whatever fucked up friend group this is, but Nat couldn't give two shits about Maeve! And it's this unspoken thing nobody talks about. Why?!"

"Grace..."

"Don't!" she snapped, stomping her foot, making clumps of dirt fly out in all directions. "I don't care about some fucked up unspoken agreement! I care about Maeve! Don't tell me you don't, Robert?!"

Bob finally lifted his head, though he focused on the way they came, not once meeting his girlfriend's angry stare.

"Bob, so help me... If you say no..."

"You know I do!" he rushed out, shaking his head.

"Then why don't you fucking say something?!" she cried out. "Why doesn't anyone say something?! She's suffering, and nobody does anything!"

She didn't even know she was crying hot, angry tears until she felt one fall off her cheek, a slight cool breeze marking a path on her skin.

"I wanted to. I wanted to, so badly, the first time I noticed it. And you told me not to."

Bob did, and he always wondered if Grace resented him for it.

She sighed, wiping the tears from her face. She paced back and forth a little bit, trying to calm herself down. Because Bob didn't deserve her anger, it was unfair of her to even yell at him in the first place.

Instead, she walked up to the tree, pressing her forehead into the bark, once again trying to count her inhales and exhales.

"When Bradley told me about Nat when he was going to school, I thought she was just a phase. Whenever he called to talk to Dad, I just sat back and wondered. I wondered how long it would take and what the reason behind the break between those two would be."

Grace lifted her head, fixing her eyes on a ladybug climbing the trunk. "You could imagine my surprise when he brought her home for spring break."

She placed her hand on the wood, twisting back to look at her boyfriend. "I never told you this, but I didn't like her the second I met her."

Bob lifted his head to meet her gaze. "Why..?"

"Because she thought I was a threat. That I harboured a crush on Bradley, and I would steal him from her," she shrugged.

Bob's eyes shot up his skull. "... I mean, you two grew up together... did you... ever?"

Grace audibly gagged, adding a few choking noises for a dramatic effect. "He's like my brother, Bob. What the hell?"

He held his hands up in surrender. "I had to ask."

Grace didn't address the remark when she continued, "She treated me horribly that entire week. She sweet-talked my dad and only was nice to me when he was around. Thank God he saw right through her. The second he left, he said that Carole, Bradley's mom, wouldn't have approved. I agreed."

With a narrowed forehead, Bob's mouth gaped open, bobbing like a fish. "Wait... then why did she..."

"Why did she suddenly start inviting me to stuff? It's cause I was dating you. I was no longer a threat. And she acted like she had never done what she did in the first place."

While Bob might have met Grace through work, he was surprised to learn she had grown up with Bradley. How she acted around Bradley, bore no resemblance to a long-lasting, familiar childhood friendship. However, the longer he thought about it, the more it made sense—her closed-off and quiet nature when she was around them.

That the first time they saw each other again, all Bradley could manage was a slight nod.

"Why didn't you tell me?" 

Grace only offered causally, "You'd be surprised at all the stuff that doesn't require your input. Sometimes you gotta leave people to do the lame shit they do and watch them fuck it up on their own." 

A ball formed in her throat. "But Maeve... when I met Maeve and saw what was happening, my heart broke. And she is the only exception to what I just said."

Bob knew what was coming next. Like a coward, he braced himself hard.

"You told me not to say anything when I first brought it up. But now? I can't keep doing it. Not after what she just did to them. Not after that."

"Grace... Don't..."

"Maeve is drowning, Bob! Drowning!" she shouted angrily, startling a nearby bird on a branch. "And I can't stand it any longer. We need to find her, grab her, and take her home. Take her away from all this. From Nat, from those two bitches... God, if they gaslight anything else, they could practically set the whole fucking forest on fire."

"You don't believe in swearing, Grace," he deadpanned.

"Maybe I do now!" she cried. "I feel guilty. Guilty Bob! Cause I bit my lip like a good girl when Nat just what? Uses her? Ignores her? Disregard her feelings? Like hell, why didn't she try harder to figure the fuck out why Jake and Meave are at each other's throats?! Or how those two bully the fuck out of her?"

"Maeve wouldn't tell us about Jake when we asked."

"And you don't find it strange she wouldn't?" she challenged him. "Out of everyone in the group, she didn't tell a soul. Why? Why didn't she? Why wouldn't she?!"

Grace's heart was hurting, and she knew Bob truly knew why. He had been around them longer than she had, so there must have been a reason he told her not to. There had to be.

"At first, I thought it was something everyone accepted, you know? That everyone was trying to figure out what had happened between her and Jake. I thought tensions were high because of that.

She blew out a shaky breath, Bob not once interrupting her.

"Maybe it was a fucking game they were playing with each other until they finally worked up the courage to admit they like each other enough to get into each other's pants. Cause whatever the cause, Maeve wouldn't be so goddamn hurt if she didn't care!"

Bob closed his eyes, a huff of a laugh escaping his mouth. 

"But last to join the group, right? You have to be quiet. Read the room. Get a sense of how to act and what you can say. Cause learning to fit in with new people, you have to pick up these things. The best way to get along with everyone else. Like how Maeve runs the second Jake walks into the room? How she avoids conversations about him if she can help it?"

Grace blew a raspberry out of pure frustration. "Jake was never the real issue, though. Everyone just made it out to be. Everyone should have noticed how Maeve bit her tongue as Nat walked over her opinions. How Nat derails conversations, not just where Maeve is concerned, but practically with everyone to make it about her."

Grace laughed, shaking her head. "She got the brunt of all of it, and we just... watched."

Grace finally approached Bob, standing before him, though he didn't lift his head from where it hung low on his shoulders. Had he chosen to look up, he would have noticed how the sun finally peeked through the leaves, beams of light breaking the shade, leaving Grace in their spotlight. 

"I meant, she invites us all on this trip so we can watch her get proposed to? And she doesn't bother to tell her that Jake is coming along, too? I mean... how selfish can she get?!"

"Grace, this isn't going to solve..."

"WHAT ELSE CAN I DO?!" she yelled, throwing her hands at the sky. "That ship left the fucking dock ages ago."

Bob's eyes fixed on a leaf stuck under a fallen branch at her words. Grace knew from that reaction alone that she had resonated with something within his kind, caring soul.

"I just... can't... I can't anymore, Bob. If I'm the first to take the leap and break up this group, then good fucking riddance. It needs to be done so we all can get some peace."

She slid to her knees in the dirt in front of him, her hands resting firmly on the sides of his thighs.

"How many years have Nat and Maeve known each other, and not once did Nat realize how hard her supposed best friend had been falling? How could she not recognize that, Bob? And how could she continue to force Jake and Maeve together when Maeve just wanted to escape?"

She reached forward to cup his cheek, guiding his gaze to meet hers. While silent rage resonated within them, Bob knew it wasn't meant for him.

"Why did you tell me to be quiet that first time I brought this up? Why do you still tell me, too?"

Bob gulped, forcing his eyes away. Grace stroked her thumb under his eye, encouraging him on. "I don't know what happened, baby, but I don't think it will be all sunshine and rainbows when we return to the group. Not this time. Just tell me, please."

Bob blew out a shakey breath and shook his head. "Because I wanted you to stay."

"Stay?"

He had contemplated all the reasons, stacking them up brick by brick last night, refusing to acknowledge the leverage Natasha could have used against him. But Bob had damned himself with that one word.

Stay—He wanted Grace to stay. Because if he brought this up, if he told her, there was a chance she wouldn't—at least, there was a possibility.

He lifted his chin, staring into her eyes.

Nat's so-called leverage was kneeling in front of him, begging him to tell her the truth. Her eyes were desperate, so much so that Bob knew he was possibly damned if he did and undoubtedly damned if he did not. Grace had chosen her path, and he would steadfastly follow her wherever she decided to go. 

There was no ever questioning that.

Bob reached for her sides, pulling Grace close between his spread legs. She let him, hands landing softly on his biceps before they slid down to his forearms. Bob traded his grip on her jacket to hold her hands, only to trace the same pattern she had a few minutes before.

He braced himself and took several sharp breaths before asking, "Did anyone ever tell you about Natasha's so-called scandal? Back in school?"

Grace cocked an eyebrow. "Only what Maeve's told me. Bradley and I weren't on speaking terms, and he'd never tell Dad if she had one. Though, Maeve didn't even know the complete story."

She let Bob turn her hand over and trace the lines on the palm of her hand. "But she shut me down hard after that. Saying Nat worked to put it behind her and move on, so we all should, too."

Bob scoffed. "Always protecting her."

"Bob?"

Bob hesitated, his gaze flickering away from Grace's expectant eyes. He swallowed hard, the reluctance clear in his tight jaw. Then he closed his eyes, leaning over to whisper in her ear, his voice cautious but a whisper.

Grace's eyes widened, and a gasp slipped through her parted lips at his words. She could hardly breathe as he told her the story. And when he was finished, she tilted so far back on her heels in shock that she almost fell onto her butt.

"Bob! What the hell? After everything I just told you?!"

Bob still hadn't opened his eyes, his head hung low in shame.

"I would have never left you over that! Over complete and utter bullshit? Who do you think I'd believe more? Her or my boyfriend?"

"I didn't know. I didn't want to risk losing you."

"You listen here, Bob Floyd," Grace urged, grabbing his face with both hands and forcing him to look at her. "I'm in a relationship with you. I love you. I would have never believed her if she had done that to us."

He kissed the inside of Grace's wrist, a deep weight lifting off his chest.

"God, I want to throttle her."

"I think that's why everyone doesn't call her out. Cause they don't want it to happen to them. Or at least, deep down, I never did 'cause I didn't want Maeve or Bradley to be alone with..."

Grace nodded, letting Bob know he did not need to continue explaining.

"We should try to find her, Bob. Let her know we love her and that we'd follow her. I have no idea if anyone else would besides Mickey and Cora. Hell, I'd even offer to leave with her and get drunk on her Aunt's apple cider 'cause this whole damn trip was a bad idea."

Bob huffed a sad laugh. "It is apple picking season. I bet she'd love it if we went with her."

Grace snorted. "You just want free apples so I can make my apple crisp."

With the tension from before gone and the weight of Bob's chest finally disappearing with his confession, he joked comedically, "Ssshh, don't jinx it."

Grace rolled her eyes, letting the moment pass before offering quietly, "Where do you think she is? Maeve?"

Bob regarded her for a moment before letting out a long sigh. "Considering the lack of voices, Maeve's probably tried to separate herself. Or she made a rash decision and decided to leave alone."

Grace gasped. "What about Jake?"

"Jake ... I bet 50 bucks Jake ran after her regardless."

Her face contorted into one of disgust. "What? Why? Can he not leave her alone for once in his life?"

Bob stood, wiping his hands on his jeans, before extending a hand to Grace. She took it without another word and allowed him to guide her up and off the tree. He revealed yet another truth as he helped her step over the massive root.

"Remember when I went with Bradley and Jake before Maeve hurt her wrist? Jake wanted to show us a fishing spot...?"

Grace winced. When Bob told her what happened, she instantly regretted not being out there with you. Hold up in her tent, she had been working on plans for a museum exhibit. Even if she had to do a little work, she could have at least done it in the company of a friend.

"I found out Bradley's been trying to coach Jake into mending things with Maeve. We might have been giving him some... advice."

Grace froze with her two feet atop the curved piece of wood.

"What!!?" she shrieked, making Bob wince. "Please tell me you weren't the one who encouraged him to keep up the prank thing. Bob, if you told him to scream 'there's a Bear..'."

"It wasn't me! Nor was it Bradley! We just told him to try to talk to her without anyone around. Cause things seem to go to shit when everyone else is there. He just needed to incite her to stay. Make her laugh. Talk to her like a human being!"

"Men," she scoffed, jumping down off the root. "Never go to a group of idiots to do a woman's job."

Bob froze, eyeing her carefully. "Are you calling me an idiot?"

Grace smiled, reaching up to stroke across his cheek. She kissed his lips with a quick peck and leaned back. "Hmm... my idiot, though."

She took several steps back towards the falls when she called out over her shoulder to a befuddled Bob. "You realize if we locked them in a room or trapped them in an elevator, with nobody else around, they'd probably figure it out?"

"How so?" he called back, finally following her.

"Jake obviously wants to fix it. Maeve runs. All you need to do is stop her from running. She'll give in if you provoke her enough, which Jake already does."

Bob paused, reflecting for a moment. "He doesn't think when it comes to her, does he?"

"Does she?"

When they emerged from the bush, Bob and Grace ran to the first person they saw, hoping at least someone saw either you or Jake. Nobody had. Not until a few minutes later did a couple mention seeing someone bearing your resemblance climbing the waterfall. They also mentioned seeing someone who looked like Nat go up, but she had already come back down.

Grace stared at them in horror. "I'll go get Mickey and Cora," she rushed out quickly, leaving Bob alone to start the trek up the rocky slope. As he did, a million thoughts crossed his mind.

Finding you and Jake tearing each other apart, hoping Mickey and Cora's skills weren't needed. Or the more stupidly optimistic thought - either of you was trying to find a few moments of peace.

As if.

Or perhaps it was none of those things. Maybe what awaited him above was something far worse than he could ever fathom.

But when he reached the top of the falls, neither you nor Jake were there, and Bob didn't spare the effort to take in the view. Instead, he searched the ground, kneeling when he spied several tracks in the mud.

Two sets, both inherently female, were marked along the river bank in the mud. Bob's eyes followed them until he saw a separate path of them walking back. Then he noticed another pair of tracks, the boot tread clearly belonging to a man. They followed one of the other tracks, veering quickly off into the bushes. They were noticeably disturbed, leaves and branches bent unnaturally, and the longer he followed the underbrush and mud, the more he understood what happened to the two of you.

Bob set off, knowing just exactly where he needed to go.

Can I just say I love Bob and Grace?

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[lokiisdaddyblog]

𝐌𝐲 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬: 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏

𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞 |

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐀𝐥𝐟𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐦.

*Probably will make this a multi part thing but idk I’ll see how it goes🙃*

You finished plaiting the last braid in your hair before continuing your peaceful stroll along the rushing river in the queens gardens.

You had been welcomed most warmly that dawn by the king and queen of Asgard, but as the princes were on a mission fighting in another realm, you were still yet to meet them.

As a light elf, you had the most radiant spirit and connected deeply with nature. You were a princess, yes, but that wasn’t always what you prioritised. You generally never dressed like one and you never cared for the politics of it all. One of the main reasons you were here now, on Asgard.

After your mother's passing, your father believed that if you spent time around this royal family, that ‘perhaps you’ll learn the proper manners of a princess’, as he had said.

You scoff at the memory. It may have only be recent, but, life hasn't been the same since your mother died. Your father is cold and distant. Life is lonely and dull.

Hour pass as you remain in the gardens, surrounded by animals and natural beauty. So lost in your own train of thought, you don’t even notice that someone has entered your presence.

“I do not believe that maids are allowed unaccompanied in the queens gardens.” The smooth voice snaps your from your trance and you turn to look over your shoulder.

You recognise the man standing before you immediately. Maid...really? Prince Loki; tall, dark, and handsome as ever. Does he really not realise who you are?

You cock your head to the side. “Oh, right. My apologies…my prince.” You bow your head slightly and he raises a brow as you stifle a giggle and run off back to the palace entrance. You decide to reside in your room reading, until dinner time.

----

"My boys. You both look rather dashing." Frigga's soft voice floats throughout the currently empty dining hall.

"Why thank you, mother." Thor replies as Loki smiles silently in response.

"So where is this.. princess.. that is going to be staying with us?" Loki asks, trying his best to hide his intrigue. His current thoughts were solely that of the princess and mysterious 'maid' he had found in the garden earlier that day that he had never seen before.

"Coming right now, and be nice to her, please. She has just lost her mother. She is delicate." Her voice is soft and there's a sadness to it. Your mother was, after all, one of Frigga's closest friends.

The guards open the doors to the dining hall. Meekly, you walk in and bow in front of the royal family before you.

"Rise, child." Odin's voice booms and you flinch slightly.

Frigga smiles fondly and gestures for you to come over. You slowly approach, curls in your hair bouncing slightly as you hold your beautiful, long, flowing dress.

"How are you, my dear?" Frigga asks as she holds your hands in hers.

You hesitate. "I'm okay, your highness."

"Good. And please, call me Frigga." She chuckles. "Here, meet my sons. Thor, and Loki." She smiles proudly.

As you reach a hand out to shake, you realise you shouldn't. Your father would whip your hand if you did that. Not that he's there, but you won't risk it this time. You settle on a curtsy.

"Welcome to Asgard, princess. We are more than happy to have you." Thor shouts kindly. You smile in return, feeling an odd sense of comfort from the large man.

You look over, making eye contact with Loki. He stares back at you, stunned, eyeing you up and down with a curious smirk. You blush and try not to laugh.

"It would seem that Prince Loki and I have actually met already."

---

The room bustled with people, eating their various foods and chatting about nothing. Small talk this, small talk that. Empty conversations will be the death of you.

"So, princess Y/n. How is your father faring?" A rough voice from beside you asks.

You groan internally.

"Quite well. Thank you." You reply through gritted teeth. You smile and silently stand there in hopes that unfamiliar man will leave. But, he doesn't.

"And how is life on Asgard treating you?" Another question you can roll your eyes at.

"Well considering I've been here barely a day, how about I get back to you on that one another time." You throw him a sour smile, handing him your drink before walking away curtly.

You find yourself standing alone in the corner as the night pursues. It seems that gossip travels rather fast here on Asgard as people were already whispering and casting judging glances. Perhaps you were too unnecessarily rude to the man. Well, who cares, maybe it means you can go home quicker.

"You do not care for dancing?" A husky voice asks from behind you.

"You do not care for approaching people like a normal person?" You don't need to turn around to know who it is.

He shrugs, no standing beside you. "I am not a normal person. It is simply part of my charm."

"Well that I sure do not care for." You cross your arms. How much longer until this is over.

"Ouch. You itch so badly to get out of here." He says quietly as he looks out onto the sea of people, who are starting to stare even more so now that you're talking to their prince.

"Don't you?" You scoff. "Look. I've been here a day and already all these people hate me."

"They do not hate you. They simply...misunderstand you, I suppose. Take your honesty as hostility." He shrugs.

"I said one thing! Just the one!" You raise one finger to emphasise and he chuckles in amusement.

"You will get over it, and I assure you, they will too." He tells you, as if he has experienced this before too.

Your eyes widen as you come to a shocking realisation. "If this news gets back to my father he is going to kill me."

Loki scoffs. "Please, with something this tame? I doubt it, princess."

His use of the words princess makes your stomach flip but you ignore the feeling and mumble incoherently back to him.

"I need to shower and organise my room with all my stuff." You say, changing the subject as you anxiously bite your nails, counting down the seconds till you can leave already.

"You do know there is maids for that, right?" He replies smugly, hands tucked into his pockets.

"Yes.. but you do know I'm not one of them, right?"

----

#loki #loki x reader #marvel #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki oneshot #loki laufesyon x reader #loki fluff #loki smut #loki angst #loki x y/n #loki x princess reader #loki story

[icycoldninja]

Sorry for all the requesting 🥺😭 This is gonna get dark!

May I please request headcanons for the Sparda boys + V reacting to their female S/O being kidnapped and tortured over a long period of time and they have to deal with the physical and mental aftermath when she’s finally rescued?

Ay, it's no problem. Here ya go, and enjoy!

Sparda boys + V X Fem!Reader kidnapped and tortured headcannons

Warning: As the title implies, there is some dark content coming up with themes of torture involved. If you are uncomfortable with these themes, DNI!

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

¤ Dante ¤

-Oh boy. First it was his brother, and now his girlfriend? Whoever dared do this to you is in for a world of pain.

-He doesn't wait around long enough for the kidnapper to send him footage of what was being done to you; the moment he realizes you're in danger, he's hopped on his motorcycle and is looking towards your location which he discovered with his demon instincts.

-He finds you tied to a chair with barbed wire, bloodied, broken, and sobbing. While looking upon your battered and bruised figure, honestly feels like crying himself.

-Oh, his baby, his poor, poor baby. He loved you so much and never, ever, in his wildest dreams, would have wanted to see you hurt like this. He nearly Triggered right there and then, but he held himself back for your sake. He didn't want to terrify you any further than you were now.

-He got you out of that horrible place as fast as he could, his limbs shaking nearly as violently as you were when he carried you out of the kidnapper's hiding place.

-"Hey there, badass. You can relax now, it's all gonna be OK now that I'm here."

-The moment you guys returned to Devil May Cry, he fed you as many green orbs and Ibuprofen tablets as he could without overdosing you. He didn't want you to feel the pain anymore; he wanted you to be smiling and happy again.

-Once the medicine kicked in and you were comfortable enough to sleep, he held you. He refused to let go of you. He clutched you as tightly as he could, tears silently running down his face. How could he allow this to happen?! How could he let you get hurt like this? What kind of devil-hunter extraordinaire was he if he couldn't even protect the only woman in the world he ever truly cared about?

-He was going to spoil you with attention and affection even before you woke up. He wanted you to heal from this, and wanted to be the one to help you heal.

-You are so precious to him, and now he's going to show you just how much in any way he possibly can.

-Expect long, loving cuddles, big hugs every time you walk into a room, and words of affirmation whenever you look down.

-He'll also tenderly treat your wounds and wrap them himself, telling you how strong and brave you are to have survived all that pain every time he does so.

-This whole incident was a massive fright to him; now he's going to hold onto you so tightly, there's no way he could ever lose you again.

■ Vergil ■

-He is so, so, scared, but he refuses to show it. Vergil remembers what it was like to be brutally tortured at the hands of Mundus, so he is enraged and horrified when he finds out the same has been done to you.

-He can't stop himself--and won't. Whoever did this to you doesn't deserve that mercy. He Triggers, and sails away to find you, doing so in a sheer matter of minutes thanks to his demonic instincts.

-He bursts into your kidnappers' hideouts, roaring. He hears your anguished screams and flips into overdrive a second time, literally tearing through the walls as he frantically searched for you.

-The noise scared you, making you think it was the kidnappers returned to torment you further. However, when you saw the hulking, icy-blue devil crash through the wall, your fears were put to rest.

-The moment he saw your battered, torn form bound to a chair with barbed wires jutting into your flesh, he nearly blew up the building and all that was around it.

-There was so much anger coursing through his veins, you could feel it emanating from him, even as he gingerly undid your bonds and scooped you into his massive, scaly arms.

-"Do not cry anymore, Precious. The nightmare is over now. I am here. You are safe."

-He portaled you out of there with the Yamato and immediately took you to the hospital to get your wounds treated.

-He also refused to leave your side for any reason, insisting on staying and watching the doctors work, even if what they were doing was unsettling; he'd seen and been through much worse.

-The entire time, Vergil sat by your bedside, either staring at you intently, or holding your hand. He didn't want to let you go, and most certainly didn't want you to leave his sight.

-The moment you awoke, the first thing Vergil told you was that he loved you. He sounded out of character, considering this was something he rarely ever said aloud, but he was so afraid of losing you, and the PTSD of Mundus's torture was returning to him--he wanted you to have what he never did when he was recovering: comfort.

-He stayed by your side until you were discharged from the hospital, and after that, drove you home, only to wrap you in his arms and cuddle you till you both fell asleep.

-You both would undoubtedly be having nightmares about this for weeks, but for now, at least you were safe in Vergil's arms.

□ Nero □

-He found out what had happened to you in the worst way possible. He received a video from the kidnapper.

-It depicted the kidnapper, who wore a mask to obscure his face, using a crowbar to break your arms and legs while you were suspended by your arms from the ceiling.

-Nero lost it; his pseudo devil trigger Triggered and he was out the door in an instant.

-He doesn't possess the demonic tracking abilities of his father and uncle, unfortunately, but he manages to find you after a good half hour of searching.

-What he walks in on is disgusting. You're begging for mercy, sobbing and screaming under the pain your various broken limbs were causing you, all while your kidnapper laughed.

-Nero wanted to tie this motherfucker up and give him a taste of his own awful medicine, but he had bigger priorities: you.

-He freed you, shushing you when you screamed out in pain, promising he's gonna get you all patched up faster than you can think and that everything is gonna be ok.

-"You can rest now, baby, I gotcha."

-Once he takes you back to Devil May Cry, the entire Sparda clan and their friends are by your side in seconds, with Nero at the forefront. They heal your wounds in seconds and Dante makes corny jokes to lighten the mood.

-Then, they leave you and Nero alone to converse in private. It's a good thing they did, too, because almost as soon as the room was empty, Nero burst into tears, trapping you in a hug and sobbing into your shoulder.

-You ended up crying along with him; the two of you just bawling into each other's shoulders.

-Nero promised to never allow something like this to happen ever again, and spent the remainder of the night lying next to you with his arms and legs wrapped your you like a giant koala on a beat-up tree.

-You were very thankful for this because honestly, you didn't think you could survive this stressful, traumatizing night without having Nero snoring by your side.

● V ●

-V was texted a sickening video by an unknown number, and the moment he opened and watched, he collapsed.

-The kidnapper, standing offscreen, was repeatedly striking younin the face, chest, hips, and other areas with a spiked bat before kicking you in the stomach and shutting the camera--or whatever he used to film the video--off after releasing some unhinged laughter.

-V was terrified. He had no idea how to find you from this meager information, let alone save you.

-Still, he was determined to try, and so, gathering up his cane, he limped along, Shadow at his side and Griffon doing reconnaissance a few feet away.

-After some time, they found you, lying on the floor in an unbelievably deep pool of your own blood, yet still fully awake.

-V would have knelt there and cried, but he forced himself to swallow the tears and lift you to safety.

-Oh, Wanderer...what have they done to you?"

-He brought you to Devil May Cry and patched you up to the best of his abilities, using as many green orbs as he could get his hands on.

-Though your physical words may have been healed, your mental wounds were anything but.

-You were in so much shock, you were shaking from head to toe. V saw this and wished there was more he could do to help, but for now, he would hold your hands, kiss your cheeks, and rest his head in your lap while you told him anything and everything you needed to get off your chest.

-He read to you, too, his soothing voice doing wonders to ease your anxiety and calm you to a point where you could sleep.

-As V watched you slumber, he made a silent pact to always protect you, however he could, for as long as he could. He never wanted to see you go through something like this ever again.

#Dmc #Dmc5 #Devil may cry #Devil may cry 5 #Dmc dante #Dmc vergil #Dmc Nero #Dmc v #Dmc5 dante #dmc5 vergil #Dmc5 Nero #Dmc5 v #Devil may cry dante #Devil may cry Nero #Devil may cry vergil #Devil may cry v #dante x reader #vergil x reader #nero x reader #v x reader #dmc5 dante x reader #dmc5 vergil x reader #Dmc5 Nero x reader #dmc5 v x reader #Requested #thanks for requesting #icycoldninja writes #Headcannons #Angst #angst headcanons

[katyaromanoffpetrova]

Spicy cake

Katya finds a new way to communicate her needs.

• Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC • Wordcount: 1.4k • Warnings: suggestive talk (this is a given at this point) Do not repost my work as your own or translate my work!! Masterlist

A/N: I owe this whole idea to @nataliasquote <3 ty girl

2028

Listen, Katya in the kitchen wasn't anything new. She cooked dinner three days of the week, and sometimes she liked to bake simple cakes or cookies, the ones from those boxes.

But she'd been in the kitchen, mixing and rummaging, for the past two hours, and Natasha was starting to get confused. No cake or cookie would take that long to make. Not even including prep and baking time.

On top of that, an unfamiliar smell filled up the house. It was cake, but a special kind of cake. Flavored? It had a hint of strawberries.

Now, it could be that Natasha's senses were still confused from the cake tasting they'd done just this morning. Four hours of trying different flavors and textures of cake to decide which one they should serve their wedding guests. Her tongue was still confused. 

Initially, she simply wanted to pick a flavor from the menu and tell the bakery to go with it, but Katya had pouted like a little kid who was robbed of going to the candy store. So they went cake tasting. Whatever makes the wife happiest.

Would Clint and Tony make fun of her for agreeing to go with Katya's choice and have a white chocolate cake with raspberry cream? Probably. It screamed, "my wife picked this and I went along with it because I'm a simp for her, and I couldn't care less about the flavor of the cake, and white chocolate is way too sweet for my taste". But Katya left the bakery with the biggest smile on her face, and that's all that mattered.

Blinking the sleep from her mid-day nap from her eyes, Natasha wandered down the stairs, curiously creeping up to the kitchen. The smell was even stronger here, seducing her into following her nose towards the source. She couldn't deny it, it smelled great, her mouth watering despite the abundance of cake currently being processed in her stomach.

"What are you—" 

A towel flew through the kitchen. One second, Natasha saw everything, the next, her vision was black. The smell of wet cotton filled her nose, filtering the one of freshly baked cake, much to her disappointment. Katya had thrown the towel with such precision and skill that it covered her face and stayed there, like a makeshift ghost costume.

"Don't look! It's a surprise."

Natasha felt like a complete idiot, standing there in the door opening with that thing on her head, but she didn't fight it. "What are you doing in there?"

"Making a cake for you."

Even blind, she knew what expression her wife was making based on the tone of her voice. Giddy, adorable excitement, the most endearing, bright smile on her face.

Natasha furrowed her brows, her heart swelling. "For me?" It wasn't her birthday, and she didn't accomplish anything exciting lately.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Just because." Katya beamed. There was some clattering, a few silent footsteps on the ground. Natasha sensed her body as it moved around the space.

"How can you even still think about cake after this morning?" She teased lightly.

It was meant to be a joke, one Katya would respond to with something witty or sarcastic, but Natasha's question was met with a pause that was a bit too long instead. Slowly, the smile faded from her lips.

"Should I have made something else?" Katya asked softly.

"No!" Natasha exclaimed in a hurry. She nearly tore the towel off her head to show Katya exactly how soft and grateful her eyes were. Even if she was literally puking from eating too much cake earlier, she'd still thank her wife for being so sweet. "No, baby, I love it." 

"Okay." The enthusiasm returned to Katya's voice, to Natasha's great relief. "Give me ten more minutes and I'll be done. Then I'll show you what I've been working on."

"Okay." 

Doing a 180-degree turn in her spot, Natasha pulled the towel from her head. Oxygen-rich air filled her lungs as she walked to the living room, plopping on the couch with her phone. She had to fight off a thoughtful frown as she scrolled away and liked some posts on her Katya fan account.

Something in her gut told her that she should be suspicious. Katya baking a cake wasn't weird, but Katya baking a cake after the cake tasting this morning was weird, and Katya hiding said cake was even weirder. Usually, she was happy to indulge her family in their curiosity. 

Natasha was knee-deep into another Katya fan account, and just about to zoom in on a bikini picture of her, when Katya's voice rang out.

"You can come back!" 

Cautiously, she locked her phone and returned to the kitchen. Katya shielded her masterpiece with her body, a huge grin on her face as she waited for Natasha to be ready. Ready for something mysteriously. Her enthusiasm would be more endearing if Natasha was less suspicious.

"Tada!"

The cake revealed itself when Katya stepped aside. Natasha narrowed her eyes at it, taking a few steps closer to see it better. 

Heart-shaped, it was at least ten inches tall and covered in pink buttercream. No fancy decorations, no other colors. Just a pink heart. Simple, classic, sleek

Oh, and two words on top.

'BANG ME'

Natasha just managed to keep her face straight, but it caught her off guard so badly she nearly choked on her own spit. Her heart skipped a few beats as she composed herself, putting on a nonchalant demeanor. 

"Okay."

Surprised, Katya perked up. "Okay?"

"Okay. I'll bang you," Natasha said casually, shrugging her shoulders.

Katya's cheeks turned a light shade of pink, her previous confidence faltering because of her wife's casual use of vulgar talk. "Nat."

"Is it not what you wanted?" Natasha asked, slowly backing the brunette up against the counter. "It's a very clear suggestion. Very on the nose."

"You want me on your nose?" Katya feigned stupidity.

"I-" Natasha closed her mouth and shook her head with disappointment, much to Katya's amusement. The woman's blue eyes sparkled with mischief, a sly smile exposing her teeth. It was hard not to roll her eyes at it. "I love your writing," she commented, looking at the cake over Katya's shoulder. It was the worst example of capital block letters ever. Any six-year-old could do it better on paper.

Katya frowned in offense. "Don't shame my writing. It was my first time using a smaller piping bag."

"I can see that."

The frown deepened. "It was between, 'Bang me', and, 'I love your tits'. I went with this one."

"Amazing choice, baby," Natasha said dryly, running her hands from Katya's hips up to her waist, sliding them under her shirt. "I'm honored that you felt a need to declare your love for my boobs on a cake."

"Maybe I can do that next time." Katya abruptly perked up. "Oh! I can make the cake in the shape of actual boobs!" She was so excited about that prospect that she looked ready to make that cake right now.

Natasha chuckled lowly, giving her waist a playful squeeze. "How about you work on some actual, actual boobs right now?"

Katya froze. Her gaze flickered to Natasha's boobs and lingered there, a shimmer of lust mixing into her enthusiasm. "Actually?"

"Actually."

The prospect made her mouth water, yet her joy faltered a bit as she looked back up at Natasha's face. "What about my cake?"

The redhead smirked, pressing Katya further into the kitchen island with her hips. "Oh, I'll eat your cake."

Bonus:

Brooklyn perked up as she followed Maya into the house, kicking her shoes off by the door. "It smells so good in here!"

"My mom must have baked something." Maya smiled, always happy to try one of Katya's masterpieces. Stress-baking has made a good baker out of her.

Without waiting for her girlfriend, Brooklyn hurried into the kitchen, following the aroma that drifted into her nose. She spotted it instantly. "A cake!" 

"What ki—" The girls stopped in their tracks, side by side as they read the words once, then twice, then another time to make sure they said what they said. 

Slowly, Maya's face turned red. And even Brooklyn, who usually didn't get flustered easily, started to pale. They were both familiar with the Russians' shenanigans, but they hadn't stumbled upon something so embarrassing yet.

"We're never talking about this again," Maya muttered, dragging her girlfriend out of there.

#katandnat #katyaromanoffpetrova #forgotten ghost series #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x fem!oc #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanov #black widow #marvel #mcu #natasha romanoff fluff

[feyreswaterybowels]

⟡ Princess of Dreams ⟡

Lucien x Rhys!Sister

⟡ Part 1 ⟡ Part 2 ⟡

Word Count: 3k

Summary: Following the events of the Solstice ceremony.

Warnings/Tags: smut. implied past sexual assault. fluffy romance. feyre and Rhys’ sister being besties and wanting to destroy tamlin. possible grammatical errors.

Authors Note: All likes comments and reblogs are appreciated, welcome and encouraged! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for part 3! Bold italics are mental communication, regular italics are inner thoughts. (Mood Board)

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. ₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

It’s hours later when the intensely bright sun had finally sunk back below the western horizon, giving me back my beautiful night sky.

There had been more countless hours of…well of not much really but it was still exhausting to be standing around all day surrounded by thousands of flowers and brightly colored streamers, watching Feyre and Tamlin greet and speak to everyone while Ianthe followed around trying to explain what happened.

The cauldron had blessed her chosen friend, she told anyone who would listen—how the sun had altered its very path to show how glad it was for her return. I would silently mock her every time she repeated those words.

There hadn’t been many interested in her tale, and the ones that were showed mild interest at best.

Feyre had stuck close to us for a majority of the time. I didn’t mind. I felt extremely protective over her. Not only as my High Lady but as my friend. I may not have access to my physical powers but I could still enter a mind in half a second and destroy someone if they dared harm her.

I’d enjoyed watching this new Feyre. How confident and sure she’d become. When the adoring fae wished to touch her hand, weep a bit over her, thank her for all she’d done she would have cringed away before. Now she openly accepted their thanks and gratitude. Thanking them and smiling as any High Lord would. Mostly genuine. Though for some, like courtiers and sentries, she put on a better show.

After six hours many retreat to freshen up.

“Tell my brother I love him.” I tell Feyre when she hugs me as she leaves. She promises to tell him for me.

Lucien and I stay, watching as lunch is cleared away and the band sets up. I would give anything to be spending this day with my family, but I was always grateful to have my mate at my side.

So when the band finally started playing and the fae around us took to the dance floor I dragged Lucien up. He hadn’t put up much of a fight—we loved dancing.

And dance we did for hours. I had even stolen Feyre away from Tamlin a few times much to his annoyance and my satisfaction.

We laughed together, spinning around the dance floor. It reminded me of myself and Mor—how we would get drunk on wine at Rita’s and dance the night away. I couldn’t wait to have nights like that with Feyre, too.

I spun her back into Tamlins arms as Lucien stole me away this time, practically begging me to come with him to eat and I realized why when I noticed Ianthe prowling around the tables.

Even she couldn’t put a damper on my mood right now. We fixed our plates and seated ourselves. More wine in our glasses as we sat tucked off away from the largest parts of the crowd—talking in hushed voices and feeding one another as if we hadn’t been mated for nearly two decades now.

Eventually I had shifted from my seat to stand behind Lucien, playing with his hair while we watched those on the dance floor become increasingly more drunk. I started braiding his hair, a taunt braid along either side of his head, curling behind his pointed ears.

“Your hair is getting so long,” I tell him, those auburn locks well past his shoulders now.

“I know,” He says, leaning back in his chair. “I’ve been thinking of cutting it—”

I gasp, drawing his attention up to me. “You better not!”

The laugh that leaves his mouth goes straight to my core. He reaches up and pulls me to bend over him so he can kiss me.

“Is that an order, Princess?” He asks against my lips and I grin.

“More like I’ll kick your ass if you do it,” I tease, kissing him again.

As I’m pulling away to go back to braiding his hair I feel eyes on us. Violet meeting teal and I bare my teeth in a wicked smile. I slide my fingers through his hair, gently pulling to tilt his head back, keeping eye contact with her as I lean down to kiss him again… stroking my tongue over his. He gasps in my mouth, reaching up to caress my head with a strong hand.

Anger lights in those eyes across the way and I grin as Lucien’s lips move to my throat, my free hand sliding around and down his chest—slipping under his shirt to feel heated skin.

I moan as he sucks on my skin, digging my nails into his chest and tightening my hand in his hair.

“Fuck,” Lucien growls, standing quickly from the chair, towering over me. “Come here.”

Then I’m being dragged away. I look over my shoulder smirking at Ianthe who is red in the face looking like she’s about to have a tantrum. She takes a step forward as if about to follow Lucien and I only to be stopped by Feyre, though I couldn’t hear what was being said before we disappeared into the thick woods.

“You’re nothing but trouble,” Lucien taunts, pushing me against a tree and attacking my mouth.

“You love it,” I gasp against his lips, reaching between us to work his pants open, ignoring the way the tree bark digs into my wings.

“Turn around,” he orders, but before I can move he’s got me spun around and pressed against the tree. “Hands.” Is his next order.

I present my wrists to him behind my back and his large hand wraps around them, pinning them to my lower back.

“I’m gonna fuck you right here, Princess,” Lucien says, the sound of his buckle coming undone making me shiver. “I want you to be loud enough that she hears you.”

I moan at that. Knowing exactly who he’s talking about without saying her name. Though it’s unlikely she’ll actually hear me from this distance over the music but the thought that she might? And probably had many times is something I love. She wants him so bad—not that I blame her. But to remind her he was mine over and over, that she would never get to have him made me feral.

I’m pulled from those thoughts when the skirt of my dress is being lifted, that hand of fire trailing between my thighs, rubbing at my wetness before ripping the stocking and panties I wore beneath.

“Tell me, sweet girl, are you turned on because of me? Or because you know she knows exactly what we’re doing out here?” Lucien asks, fingers sliding through my wetness, rubbing in that perfect spot until I was weak in the knees. Only held up by his weight pushing me against the tree.

“I asked a question,” He grunts, pulling that heat away from my center.

“Both,” I gasp out in a moan, needing his hand back. “Fuck, both.”

“That’s a good girl,” He praises, hand sliding back between my thighs, rubbing at me, two fingers sliding inside.

“Oh, fuck, Lu,” I moaned. His fingers weren’t as thick or long as his cock but they felt so good filling me up, curling perfectly to find that spot that had me seeing stars.

“I’m gonna make you cum on my fingers first,” He leaned over me to breathe in my ear, careful of my wings, fingers pumping faster, “then on my cock. Then I’m gonna take you back to that party filled up. We’re going to tell everyone goodbye then I’m gonna take you home, tie you to the bed and have my godsdamn way with you.”

“Yes, please!” I cry out, clenching around his fingers, cumming entirely too easy just from the way he rubs that spot inside of me, just from the way his voice rasped against my ear.

His fingers slide from me but before I can protest I feel him press against me, pushing in, in, in until he’s fully sheathed inside of me. He pressed a kiss to the back of my neck, the back of my shoulders between my wings. I wished he had ripped the damn dress from my body so I could feel his lips against my skin.

“That could be arranged,” He purrs, reaching around to grasp my breast, not realizing I had sent that through the bond.

“Lu, please,” I begged, pushing back against him. He hisses in pleasure, nipping at my neck before straightening his spine, still holding my wrist as he pulls his hips back, thrusting all the way back in. “Yesss.”

Then he fucks me. Hard and rough.

Bent over against a tree in the middle of the forest. I let every sound imaginable fall from my lips exactly the way he ordered me to. Between the events of the day, the flirting, the unwanted looks from another and the wine I was falling over the edge easily for the second time.

He slows his thrusts, giving me only a moment to catch my breath before he’s pulling out and spinning me back around. My knees buckle and I fall to the ground directly in front of him.

“Look at my pretty girl, so fucked out she can’t even stand,” Lucien coos, grasping my chin gently to tilt my head up, sliding his thumb into my mouth. I suck on the digit, batting my eyelashes at him, watching that fire burn in his eyes.

He reaches down, grabbing me around the waist and hauls me up, lifting me easily into his arms, my dress bunching between us. My arms and legs wrap around him and I kiss him. I can’t help it.

It only takes some slight maneuvering before he’s back inside of me, my calves over his forearms as he’s thrust into me. It was always such a turn on the way he could hold me like this, so easily, as he took me.

The bond suddenly lights up with warmth and my mind goes blank as I come again.

“Fill me up. Please, cum in me, I want it.”

I can feel how close he is without him saying anything. The sounds he’s making, the feelings through the bond. I know exactly when he’s about to cum and I moan as he fills me up

“So good, that was so good, Luc.”

He moans, eyes meeting mine and I smile at him. Pushing a few strands of hair from his sweaty forehead.

He takes a few gasping breaths, holding me in his arms still, basking in the high of his orgasm. I wrap my wings around us as we stand there, providing us with some form of privacy should anyone stumble upon us.

“We should get back,” I tell him, kissing the tip of his pointed ear. Wanting nothing more than to just skip out on the goodbyes and just go back to the house.

“Just another minute,” he said breathy, one of his hands reaching to grasp my ass cheek. “Just wanna be inside of you.”

“Mm. We could just go say our goodbyes like this,” I offer, playing with the braid I put in his hair earlier. “Unfortunately that means quite a few males would see me with your cock—”

Lucien growls at that and I giggle when his eyes meet mine. “I would kill someone.”

I hum in response, kissing him.

“The thought of you killing someone simply for seeing my body shouldn’t be so sexy.”

His hearty laugh vibrates through my body—my favorite sound.

“Come on, Princess. Let’s get this over with so I can get you in my bed,” He says, slipping from my body and setting me getting on my feet, making sure I was steady before tucking himself away.

We take a few moments to collect ourselves, kissing softly between straightening the other clothes and fixing disheveled hair. Of course no one was stupid. They would scent the smell of sex on us but that didn’t mean we had to make it any more obvious.

By the time we got back the sun had been long gone from the sky, dozens of blazing fires lit the area now. I didn’t spot Ianthe anywhere but Feyre finds us within moments of us taking up a spot by the fire.

We had meant to say our goodbyes but Feyre offered me a glass of wine. Which led to another. And another. We danced with one another around the fire—Lucien taking turns spinning us around. I had no idea where Tamlin was and I honestly didn’t care.

It was when Feyre asked Lucien and I to escort her back to the manor. Being ever the gentleman he agreed. I was much more drunk than Feyre but Lucien offered an elbow to each of us, letting us hang on him as he led us back to the house.

We left Feyre at her bedroom, I giggled out a goodnight, grabbing her face and kissing her cheek. As we were turning away I tripped over my foot and giggled again.

“Luc, I’m drunk,” I said, as he grabbed my arm, wrapping it around his neck.

“Yeah, Princess, I know,” Lucien chuckled, leading me to our bedroom.

I felt so light and blissful, letting him undress me and clean me up. He pulled the pins from my hair and cleaned the makeup from my face sliding a nightgown onto my naked body.

He laid me back, pulling his comforter over my body, tucking me in tightly. “Get some sleep, sweet girl,” He smiles down at me, kissing my forehead.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

I woke up hours later to Lucien tossing and turning. Ever since the Mountain his sleep was more restless than not, dragging up traumas old and new.

My head pounded from all the wine I’d drunk but I watched his face, still peaceful despite the unease of his sleep. It was when a horrified grimace crossed his face that I took over. When I felt the bond run ice cold with fear, when I got a glimpse of that nightmare—one he’s had before, where it starts with Jesminda’s torture and right as she’s about to be executed she changes into me as Beron and Lucien’s brother’s force him to watch me be murdered.

I slip into his mind, caressing it gently, ending the dream easily before it gets to that horrid part. I crawl next to him, laying his head in my lap and carding my fingers through his hair, braiding and unbraiding pieces, scratching at his scalp gently.

Instead I show him Velaris, the life I want us to have there together, the life we always talked about.

Living in our home right on the river. Late night stroll under an endless diamond sky. A long and happy life with beautiful red headed, winged babies. All the adventures we could go on together when no longer stuck in the boundaries of the Spring Court. Having the bond declared in a ceremony, a proper wedding, going swimming in the Sidra, taking him to see Ramiel—there was so much I wanted to do with him.

We’ve had a good life together here in Spring. He had done everything to make it better for me once he realized who I was, that I was stuck here. Picnic dates by the pond, visits to farmers markets, naps under beautiful trees, drinking wine, horseback rides, festivals and gardening.

But we could have a better life. An amazing one instead of a good one and I wanted to spend it with him.

He shifts, arms wrapping around my legs, nuzzling against my thigh, pressing his lips to my tanned skin but he doesn’t wake. I lull him into a deeper sleep, thumbing away the crease between his eyebrows.

My head whips up at a sound across the hall, Feyres room. I listen carefully, hear her door open. Then there’s a gentle knock on our door. She must have had a nightmare too…maybe I should start checking in on her at night.

I gently untangle myself from Lucien’s embrace, pulling the bed sheet over his body before sliding from the bed. There’s a second knock just before I reach the door. I scanned her head to toe quick—sweaty and disheveled but not physically harmed.

“I heard you, are you okay?” I asked, stepping to the side to let her into the room, scanning the hall for any sign of trouble. There seemed to be nothing.

The room was lit mainly by the moon light and I watched her look around the room. The night gown she wore was above mid thigh but she turned around to look at me before I could question her motive.

“I had a dream about it,” she rasped thickly, “Under the Mountain. I couldn’t remember where I was.”

I nod my head in understanding. Lucien had similar dreams. I wanted to kill Amarantha all over again for what she had done. To Feyre. To Lucien. To my brother. To thousands and thousands of fae.

“What did you dream of tonight?” I asked, stepping closer to her.

“She had me spiked to the wall like Clare Beddor. And the Attor was—” She shuddered, running her hands over her face.

I walked closer to her, a frown on my face, wanting to provide her with some kind of comfort. There’s something in the house, a vibration, I feel it but before I can question it she’s thrown her arms around me. I don’t object as she buries her face against my neck, warm tears falling on my bare skin. I let out a small sigh, sliding an arm around her waist, the other caressing her head, stroking over her dark golden hair.

“I’m sorry, Feyre,” I breathed, kissing the crown of her head. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

Her cries and tears eventually subside but I continued to hold her. Allowing her to take the comfort she needed from me. I pulled back slightly, caressed her face gently, wiping away the remaining tears. I looked at her, I knew she could see the concern in my eyes, but there was something else in hers, something not completely of the fear and sadness she was presenting.

“Why are you—”

“What’s going on?” Tamlin’s deep voice rumbles through the room. I turned my head slightly to look at him, he stood there face a mask of cold calm, the beginnings of claws glinting at his knuckles—looking as if he’d caught us in the middle of something naughty.

“I had a nightmare,” she explained, pulling, straightening her nightgown. I fought the urge to smile. “I-I didn’t want to wake the house.”

Tamlin knew I didn’t sleep in here most nights. Lucien either slept in my room or we slept separately, so in his eyes Feyre had to have been seeking out the comfort of Lucien after her nightmare.

He just stood there staring at us. Eyes glancing at Lucien before looking at me with narrowed eyes, a glare that I returned. His mouth tightened into a thin line and I nearly snarled at him—those claws still half drawn.

“I had a nightmare,” Feyre repeated sharply, walking forward to grip Tamlin’s arm, turning him but he looked back at me. I crossed my arms over my chest and smirked at him as she led him from the room closing the door.

“You little shit, your lucky Lucien wasn’t awake, Tamlin would’ve killed him,” I told her crawling back in bed with my mate.

“I wouldn’t let that happen. I needed to plant some kind of doubt in his mind. You seemed to do the trick though,” Feyre’s answer came five minutes later, laughter in her voice.

“You should have told me I would have kissed you right in front of him,” I teased back, sliding under the sheet, cuddling up to that warm body.

“Next time,” Is her response, a mental image of her winking and blowing me a kiss followed.

I laughed out loud.

“What’s going on?” Lucien asks, a slight frown on his face at being woken suddenly.

I grinned, kissing his chest.

“Nothing, my love. Go back to sleep,” I whispered, easily slipping into his mind to lull him back to sleep.

I grinned to myself.

“Burn it down, Feyre” I told her. “Burn it all down.”

Fuck Tamlin. And fuck the Spring Court.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

tag list: @sleepylunarwolf @stained-glass-eyes0708 @saltedcoffeescotch @cherry-cin @xmalfoyweasleyx @jesskidding3 @minaethrym @scorpioriesling @inloveallthetime @paleidiot

#the way I’m obsessing over my own story #I’m already considering a prequel of sorts from the beginning of the first book #BUT #Feyre and Rhys’ sister is one of my fav relationships so far #they’re just so fun #yes I have that Lucien scene to Rhys’ sister #tamlins jealous self would definitely think they were about to get down and dirty together in their tiny night gowns #lucien vanserra #lucien vanssera x reader #lucien fanfic #pro lucien vanserra #Princess of dreams

[agroteraa]

I Wanna Be Your Dog

Oliver Quick x f!Reader

My fic masterlist

Summary: Oliver's memories of one of the evenings at Oxford, where you began getting closer. And a night in Saltburn, where you try to be dominant with him.

Actaeon series spin-off, taking place between Artemis and The Wrath of the Stag.

Warnings: smut, dom!Reader, sub!Oliver, switching, oral, penetration sex.

Word Count: 2,8K

It was another spring party at Oxford. All the young people were chatting cheerfully with bottles and glasses in their hands in the slightly dim light of the dormitory's common room. Felix and Oliver were almost lying relaxed on the couch and had been silent for some time.

“Now, can you eenie, meenie India or Annabel, and take one fucking home? Because they look miserable,” Oliver suggested softly.

“Eenie, meenie, miny, moe. Catch a tiger by his toe. If he squeals, let him go. Er..." Felix seemingly forgot the text of the counting-out rhyme, but decided to finish it as soon as possible and make a choice anyway, "You're out, boy scout!"

The choice fell on Annabelle. He happily pecked Oliver on the cheek in gratitude, which made him grin widely. Oliver liked being praised. Especially by those who were important to him. Felix quickly jumped up from the sofa and, lightly slapping the contented girl on the ass, and went off with her upstairs.

“Well, what the fuck, mate? I’ve been chirpsing her for about an hour. I wanted at least a hand job...” the guy Annabelle left said in disappointment.

An hour. What did he know about waiting. How about almost a whole year, mate? Oliver smiled indulgently to himself. And anyway, how shallow that guy thoughts and desires were.

“I know. We all want a fucking handjob, mate. Get yourself a title and a massive fuck off castle.”

That where it was hard to argue. A title and a massive fuck off castle had never harmed anyone in life yet.

"Hey, here I am! And where is Felix?.." you were surprised when you returned from your dorm room and sat back down on the sofa, only this time next to Oliver alone.

"I don't know really," he shrugged, smiling, "I think he’s decided to go have some fun on his own."

"Hmm," you pursed your lips, not really surprised, but still, deep down, a little upset that Felix was acting like that again. You guessed where and why he might have gone, but decided not to focus on that thought right now. Besides, you'd already poured another bottle of your drink into yourself. There was some silence in the air. Before that, you had fun talking to the guys, mostly Felix, and you had never been alone with Oliver for long, especially at parties. You clenched your bottle tightly like a social lifebuoy.

Oliver was even beginning to interest you a little, just a little, but you still had no idea what and how to talk to him in private. He still seemed more like Felix's shadow. But at the same time, being face-to-face for at least a short time, you felt like you had to tell Oliver something meaningful, something deep... as if you should be giving away to him some of your secrets. You were vaguely disturbed by this feeling, as now you were just in the mood for small talk only.

"Um... so… how’s your study going?" you asked, not knowing where else to start a new separate conversation with him besides studying.

"Pretty well," he replied a little awkwardly, embarrassed by your close presence himself. Before that, Felix separated you on the couch, but now he wasn’t a bother anymore. Oliver definitely liked this intimacy, even though he was obviously not used to it yet. But one gets used to the fine things quickly. And Oliver was greedy for all the new truly fine things in his life.

"And yours?"

"Yeah, too," you took a small sip from the bottle, trying not to look him in the eye. At the same time, because you felt awkward and because these blue eyes have been looking at you so piercingly lately, as if they were drilling right into your soul. You couldn't tell if it was embarrassing for you, or if it was some other kind of excitement. Maybe both.

"And what about yours..." Oliver was interrupted by one of Felix's many friends, Chad, who plopped down on the arm of the sofa next to you.

"Hey, Y/N! I finally got to the party on your campus! How are you?"

"Oh, Chad! It's been a long time, it’s like you've disappeared somewhere. Have you really been studying so hard lately?" you both laughed loudly at this very bold assumption of yours. You continued to communicate, actively exchanging the latest news. Over time, you felt guilty a little. You turned to Oliver and smiled at him. He smiled back understandingly. His face visibly saddened when you turned back to the blond guy. He began to examine the empty bottom of his plastic cup, twirling it slightly in his hands. How should he get Y/N's attention? He didn't know. He had to come up with a plan. What would he do, what should he say, so that you…

"Hey, Oliver! Did you have any classes with Mr. Wharton?" you asked with interest, involving him in your conversation. He exhaled a little as he realized that you weren't leaving him in the middle of this party, where he felt like a stranger without Felix and you. You looked at him with a warm smile, and something inside him finally clicked and fell into place.

"Er, yeah... that oddball. He constantly comes up with fruit analogies for everything and even sometimes speaks on their behalf while holding them in hands."

"Ah, have you seen that too?! Y/N, I told you, he's an old weirdo! Only you are attending the wrong classes!" exclaimed Chad, and you all laughed merrily. The conversation was going well, and Oliver was incredibly happy about it. He didn't feel lonely anymore because of you.

But in return, some feelings that he had only vaguely suspected until this moment began to awaken inside him. You didn't stop drinking, and at some point, Chad put his arm around you and started lightly stroking your back. You giggled without giving it much thought, especially under the influence of alcohol. But Oliver saw perfectly well how Chad looked more and more into your eyes, lowering his gaze to your lips and lightly licking his own. It was very subtle, but Quick noticed it all. The way his hand keeps stroking your back, gripping you tighter and tighter. Oliver saw it all perfectly well, because he wanted to be in that place himself.

No, rather, he didn't really want to. He had long imagined your first kiss when you were fully conscious, willing and not under the influence of some alcohol, when you were too much mellow-minded. And he wouldn't let your kiss with Chad happen now, in this state, nor ever.

Sometimes it seemed you and him were very different. He could see through everything, and sometimes it was like you notice none of what you really should. How could you not understand that this Chad wanted to take you upstairs just like Felix did with Annabel?

You were kind and open, maybe even too friendly, oh, Y/N. Oliver was drawn to you like a moth to a fire. You were quite a complete and content person in your own right, and this was very attractive to the many-faced Oliver, who was still struggling to find a place in this life, especially here, in his first year at Oxford.

And it seems that he began to realize that he had found his place next to you. And he wanted to take this place like a guard dog, protecting it and you from all the adversity and guys like Chad.

You didn't forget about Oliver and wanted him to feel fine and less lonely, even hardly knowing him, even having so many friends and acquaintances here, even in the midst of fun of the party. You showed towards him attention and care.

Yeah, he would like to be your dog, he thought now.

Fortunately, you soon got up, freeing yourself from Chad's embrace and going to the bathroom. Great. Oliver had been carefully observing the situation in the common room all this time, so he immediately got up from the sofa and sauntered into the common kitchen, where India was smoking, still slightly displeased that Felix had not chosen her.

"How’s the party? " Oliver asked politely, grabbing a can of beer from the fridge.

India rolled her eyes, twirling a cigarette in her fingers, "What do you need?"

"Me? Nothing. But that guy has been looking at you half the evening without stopping," he nodded towards Chad and winked, "Just saying."

"Isn't he hanging out with Y/N?"

"No, he doesn't sleep with his buddy Felix's old friends. So, the way is clear."

"Oh, are they friends with Felix?" India narrowed her eyes. That was good, she needed some male attention right now, especially from those whom Catton Jr. might become jealous of. Thus, the girl went off towards her chance.

When you had returned to the common room, you saw Chad and India flirting with each other on the couch, and the girl did not let go of her hands off him. Okay. That was unexpected, but okay, it was a student party, after all. You shrugged your shoulders and started thinking about where you could sit now.

"Everyone seems to be having fun with each other tonight," Oliver, who happened to be next to you, shrugged sympathetically. Indeed, everyone around was busy with their own lively conversations, and someone was already far from just "talking".

"To singles?" he offered a playful toast, and you agreed with a grin, "Apparently so!"

"Cheers!" you clinked your drinks, continuing to talk a little more relaxed with each other. So, that how you started getting closer from that evening, and you began getting to know the real Oliver. At least that was what you thought at the time. He looked at you with a shy smile of a complete adoration as you were telling your stories full of joy and tipsy giggling. His eyes were shining like two starry sapphires right now.

If a guard dog wants to protect the peace of its owner and scare away other dogs, then it must inspire fear itself. Maybe sometimes not very intentionally, but instill just a little fear and sense of power even to its own master. Oliver wanted to be a good guard dog.

He would take this place next to you.

* * *

And he took it.

Now he was hovering over you, pinning you between his arms, leaning on your bed in your bedroom in Saltburn. It was the middle of the night, and finally not a single one inhabitant of this house could bother you right now.

Oliver thought all day about how he would continue his way with you at night, along the way remembering the evening of that party in Oxford, where you finally began to get closer. He looked down at you rapturously, biting his lip and breathing heavily, still not believing that all this was really happening. Not just right now, but in general, everything.

His blue eyes were gleaming with utter delight in the dim.

"What else does my sweet Y/N want?" Oliver asked you, recovering his breathing.

He bent lower, and a chain dangled from his neck, swaying slightly. The metal heated by the warmth of your bodies tickled your lips slightly. You lifted your head and gently but firmly catching the chain with your lips.

"Mm-hmm," Quick mumbled with curiosity. You smiled, gritting the chain with your teeth and began to shake it slightly from side to side. He opened his lips excitedly, inhaling sharply.

"Am I your doggie today? Oh, I'm more than willing to be, sweetheart," he said in his deep sexy accent.

He wanted to add "now and always," but didn't. Oliver was afraid that if he showed how willing he was to obey you, he would lose your interest. He was used to changing masks, adapting to different situations and someone's needs. He was an awkward and shy nerd when you first met, and that was largely true, because of his deep core nature and the new posh environment at Oxford. Fortunately, he had successfully joined Felix's company and was able to relax a little. And here in Saltburn, he almost felt like the master of the situation.

If you wished, he would always be that sweet, shy and awkward guy for you, if only you were truly happy about it. But he had learned that he interested and intrigued you mostly when he showed a more powerful, dominant and somewhat even dark part of himself. And that made him really pleased, because you viewed him the way he hoped to be in his own deep wildest dreams.

And yet, he still wanted to be your dog, an obedient dog who would do anything for you. In a sense, he was. And today he decided to demonstrate you that in more obvious way.

"What do you want me to do? I'm all yours," he leaned back next to you, belly up. Oliver smiled playfully. Right now, he was a tiger who had been caught by the toe with his own permission.

Biting your lip, you straddled him, sitting on his thighs. After enjoying this view, you ran your hand from his navel, sliding your fingers up the groove between his prominent muscles. Oliver exhaled sharply. You stopped at his neck, grabbed his chain, and pulled him to you. Now the guy was in a sitting position, he looked at you adoringly while his hands slid over your waist.

Without letting go of one hand from the chain, you slowly rose and began to descend on his cock. Oliver hissed with satisfaction, "Yes, my dear, just like that..."

"I didn't let you talk," you pulled the chain slightly, smiling slightly.

"Oh," he said in surprise, but gladly began to obey you, nodding in agreement.

You began to move slowly on his things, while Oliver's strong hands supported you with ease, guiding you, leaving hot prints on your skin.

His hands were all over you as his lips feverishly kissed everything they could reach. Finally, he reached for your lips, covering them with a hot kiss full of saliva, admiration and arousal.

When you broke the kiss, you said, a little hesitantly, but still firmly enough, "Take your hands off, next time you touch me when I tell you."

Oliver smiled enthusiastically – you learned quickly from his example, apparently. He liked the hint of his own power and dominance reflected on himself now through you.

He obeyed your request, although it was getting harder to fulfill it by every passing minute. He wanted to touch you again, guide your body and push it harder on his hard needy cock. It became unbearable after a while, and he whined a little. He looked at you a little pleadingly, but you nodded no.

He kissed your breasts again, but in response he got "Do not touch at all."

"Only I can now," with these words, you ruffled his hair and pressed harder against his shoulders. He groaned at the inability to touch you at all, it was a new sensation, or rather, its absence.

You grabbed his hair, and he put his head closer, burying it in your hand. It was the only chance to touch you in any way. Oliver closed his eyes and inhaled noisily through his nose. He didn't even mind if you squeezed his hair even harder, hell, maybe even poked his face into the sheet, where he would inhale the scent of your arousal. If you had forced him to lick it off, he would have willingly obeyed, as long as you continued to press his face to the bed, clutching his dark curls. He even imagined doing the same with the bathtub you were lying in lately. In his bathroom. This thought turned Oliver on even more.

Degrading him, talking him down, pulling his hair or chain harshly - he would not always like to be in this role, but he would like to give you that opportunity from time to time. If only you'd asked. And even if you hadn't asked. Because it was you. And because he was like that.

Reaching the peak almost at the same time, you dug your nails into his back deeply, which made Oliver's eyes darken slightly and starry at the same time. With a pleased moan, you released your grip and sank down onto the pillows. But that wasn't all of it, and you decided to play the role given to you to the very end.

Clutching his soft dark hair, you moved his head to your thighs. He looked back at you with hazy from own rapture eyes.

"Please," you said softly, still not being able to be dominant enough. But this sweetness and dissimilarity from his own, even in a situation where you could and should do it, but asking instead, drove Oliver crazy to his limit. He attacked you with a growl, delivering all the pleasure he could possibly give to you that night.

* * *

Oliver was lying with his arms around your lower back, his head resting on your stomach. Quick looked faithfully into your eyes. His face reflected the moonlight of the deep quiet night that was now in Saltburn.

You stroked and scratched him behind the ear, he rubbed his nose contentedly against your smooth belly skin.

"Is my mistress happy?"

"Yes," you laughed, started to play softly with his hair.

"Then I am happy too," he said, closing his eyes and rubbing his cheek against your soft belly, "Now and always."

#oliver quick x reader #oliver x reader #saltburn #oliver quick x you #oliver x you #saltburn imagine #oliver #oliver quick #oliver quick smut #oliver quick fluff #oliver quick imagine #saltburn 2023 #saltburn fic #saltburn smut #saltburn x reader #saltburn x you #barry keoghan #barry keoghan smut #barry keoghan x reader #barry keoghan x you #barry keoghan imagine #felix catton #felix catton x reader #felix x reader #felix catton x you #felix catton smut #felix catton fluff #felix catton imagine #felix #jacob elordi

[imagionationstation]

so I would like more ideas on the whole “2012 Donnie ends up in prison dimension” au thing.

if you don’t have any it’s completely okay!

just maybe…how are the 2012 turtles (and Splinter) holding up? And how would the 2018 turtles react when 2012 Donnie has to go back home? Does he? Or does he stay? I think it’d be fun if their were two alt endings. One where 2012 Donnie stays in the rise universe and one where he doesn’t. Idk

Srry I’m yappin’ lol

Oh, don’t worry. I’ve been poking at this AU all day.

I have, like, five scenes overlapping each other. Because I’m normal.

*ahem*

“So what if instead of merely erasing him, she decided to put him somewhere that no one could ever reach him? A dimension from where things are known never to return? A place where April could never get him back without her assistance?”

Lil’ miss overpowered demon would have wanted April to know that she shipped Donnie off somewhere instead of outright murder. Then, she could hold it over her head you need me to get him back to prevent her from ever shattering the Crystal. But considering that’s blackmail and April knew that the longer that freak was in her brain, the more likely it was that she’d obliterate New York- well, she was determined to find Donnie back without her help.

And so April assures that brothers that he’s alive. And they immediately begin a search ✨

I’m sure that there would be a lot of tension, fear, and worry, but they KNOW he’s alive out there somewhere, (probably suffering if Za-Naron’s vague taunts were true), so they’re going to get him back, and the sooner the better. *Insert car chase music*

And the best part is that the 2012brothers have never actually been separated for more than a few hours. Like, in any episode.

Imagine days apart not knowing if Donnie is even alive.

At least they have each other. Donnie, on the other hand…

I think how the Risebrothers react to their arrival to bring Donnie home would depend highly on how long Donnie remains with them. However, it’s not through an “we adopted him” standpoint.

Remember, Leon and Donnie were stuck in a crippled dimension for weeks. They were barely surviving, avoiding Krang at every turn, convinced that they’d never see their families again. Leon would have told Donnie about the prison dimension’s purpose and how no one could ever risk coming. How his family had to see to it that no one ever came through for the sake of everyone in his dimension.

They had to live with that knowledge for a time period that probably felt like an eternity.

A seed of doubt was planted and they coped in different ways.

Donnie, keeping them both alive and his flickering hope burning through each passing moment, holds to the stubborn belief that if they wants to make it out, he only needs to, “Try harder.”

And Leon, willing to fight for Donnie but unwilling to surrender to the pipe dream of getting freed, assists the fight with a timid, but unbudging, “It’s not about me.”

Then, when they get out, their perspectives will be entirely different.

Leon will be home, but a part of him, the part that was counting down the minutes ‘till he dies, will still be in the prison dimension.

Donnie will be safe, but everything in him, every minuscule cell in his being that prayed for release, will be yearning for home.

So, we have two options. And no, I do not believe one of them involves him permanently living in the Rise verse. (Many apologies.)

Option one: Angst ending (They find him fast.)

Okay, so, if the 2012brothers were to arrive within days of Donnie getting free, I have no doubt that a desperate Donnie would go home without a second of hesitation and Leon would lose his anchor. He’d be stricken at the thought, aware of how much Donnie needs to leave, crippled under the looming weight of that sacrifice. He only suffered lived so Donnie wouldn’t be alone in that hellhole nightmare, and now Donnie is abandoning him leaving.

He’d be stiff, silent, barely managing a weak “okay” when Donnie shares the news. The conversation distracts anyone from really noticing his state of mind. It’s only once the 2012 gang leave the room that Raphael makes the mistake of touching his shoulder. After they barely calm a flash-back induced panic attack that leaves him wheezing and pale, crying and bleeding on the floor where he’d attempt to flee from them, the Risebrothers decide that they can’t let Donnie walk out. Raphael and Michael are torn, because Donnie needs the familiar sights of home as much as Leon needs Donnie, but Don has no such limitations. I almost want to say the same for Lou. He sacrificed the world for his kids. This is nothing.

As you can imagine, family fights for custody never go well.

Option two: Happy Ending (Finding him takes time)

If the brothers were to arrive several weeks/month or so into the future, long enough for Leon to readjust to society and no longer need Donnie as a reminder that he’s home and not completely delulu in the brain, it would go much smoother. Obviously, Donnie would be more desperate than ever to get home. The kind of desperate that leaves him broken in their arms when they finally appear, promising through sobs that he tried so hard to get back to them he did he swears he never stopped he tried-

And considering the Risebrothers don’t have a single cruel bone in their body, they wouldn’t hesitate to let him go home. He’s welcome any time, of course, and Leo makes him promise to find a way back during one, big goodbye squeeze, but they accept that right now, he needs to go. Donnie kept their brother alive and helped truly bring his scattered brain home. Why shouldn’t they return the favor?

#tmnt 2012 #tmnt 2k12 #tmnt fandom #teenage mutant ninja turtles 2012 #IS Asks #tmnt au #tmnt 2012 donnie #donnie tmnt 2012 #rise leo #rottmnt leonardo #rottmnt leo #teenage mutant ninja turtles #2012 donnie #tmnt donnie 2012 #leonardo rise #leonardo rottmnt #donnie 2012 #2012 tmnt #2012 donatello #krang prime #krang rottmnt #rottmnt krang #rise krang #rise of the turtles #rise movie #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #tmnt raph 2012 #tmnt leo 2012 #tmnt mikey 2012

[yanderes-galore]

I have an idea of what you did for Yan!Satoru vs Yan!Sukuna (ft. Yuji)

Basically, Yuji is still at risk of being executed (because it is Sukuna’s vessel, blah blah blah)

So to make sure he can get the Reader for himself, Satoru will make Yuji eat Sukuna’s fingers as soon as he finds them.

Yuji would reluctantly accept, because that’s what was planned from the beginning for him to eat those fingers. But he doesn’t want to leave the reader alone.

Yuji could increasingly avoid the Reader for fear that Sukuna will have more control over his body as he regains power 

Of course, the Reader is very worried about Yuji (they don’t want to lose him)

Before absorbing the last finger, Yuji is tied, as at the beginning of the manga. With Sukuna having an even stronger influence, Satoru does not take the risk that once the 20 fingers are together, Sukuna can go wild and steal the Reader to have it just for him.

Satoru could tell the Reader that he cannot postpone Yuji’s execution forever and that he has a lot of pressure to get it done quickly. (While in reality, he is eager for it to be done, Yuji’s sacrifice being necessary to get rid of Sukuna)

Yuji could silently beg Satoru so that it doesn’t end like this. But Satoru’s love for the Reader is stronger than his affection for Yuji (yes, for me Satoru has some platonic affection for Yuji)

Satoru would ask Yuji to give way to Sukuna one last time, he wants to see life disappear from his rival’s eyes.

Of course, Sukuna as usual provoked Satoru. And Satoru ends up killing him with a smile on his face.

After doing everything so that Sukuna cannot return. The loss of Yuji hits Satoru hard. 

He will therefore find the Reader, while he still has Yuji’s blood on him, even on his face.

The reader is horrified by what Satoru did to Yuji, but Satoru tells them that he had no choice. That it was long expected that Yuji would die and that he had been given this task, since he had delayed the execution.

Seeing Satoru’s distressed air, the Reader makes the mistake of taking him to console him, because he feels pity for Satoru.

Satoru smiled at this gesture. Now he will have the Reader to himself, and no one can take it away from him.

Well, there are probably things to embroider and add, but that’s the general idea I have in mind (I translated with reverso, so it must sometimes be weird as a sentence, sorry)

Oh, and this is the first time I’ve really thought about something about Yandere, so I hope it’s okay

These are some good ideas :D

Posting this for others to see :)

#panther ideas for later

[tinydefector]

Hi! I have to say that since I read your energy fluid au, I couldn't stop thinking about it haha. I could have tfp optimus x gn!human!reader With energy fluid au? That the human is his first time to try something like that.

Tightly Wound energyFluid AU

TFP optimus Prime x human reader

Warnings: Smut, Blowjob, Handjob, fingerings? Valveplug

Word count: 2k

Request and Ask open read pinned post

__________________

"I mean it Optimus, you look like you have slept in nearly a week,I know Cybertronian's probably work differently but you still need rest" the human argue at the Autobot leader, he hadn't been taking care of himself that much was evident to everyone at base. Ratchet had told him off for it too, the others weren't willing to talk back to their leader, but Optimus human charge, They are determined to make sure he rests. They softly scold him as he makes his way towards his quarters. 

Optimus vented softly at their persisting concern, touched by their care for one so much larger than themselves. "Your care for my well-being is much appreciated,but I can guarantee you, I am fine," he states, trying to plead his case, he had more work to do, scans to run and areas that needed to be patrolled. “Don't give me that shit Op, your optics look like they are ready to fall out of your head!” They argue back, it only earns a sigh from the Prime, he knows he's not getting out of this, they were to firey when it came to him looking after himself. 

Settling back against the wall of his berth, he tucked his legs beneath him and gazed down at their small form nestled against his chassis. After a moment's quiet contemplation, he conceded softly, "Very well. I will take your advice and recharge this night cycle. Satisfied?" His optics shoot from them, he knows if he looks them in the eyes he wouldn't be able to fight them at all. “I will be once you lay down” 

A gentle rumble built in his spark at the feeling their presence brought, even as his systems attempted to power down in preparation for repairs. Some battles were won through force, this one was going to be won by his charge, and they knew full well they were already winning, their stubbornness reminded him of megaton at times, not willing to back down, and they were willing to take even himself on For that, he was grateful, they didn't shun away just because he was a prime.

They lay against his chassis watching him vent trying to fall into recharge. It's silent between them for a long while before they finally move. His optics flicker back on watching them move. They sit up against his chassis. One of their hands reached up to his face, tracing it slowly. " can't sleep?" Their voice is tender now, the fight from earlier had left them as they watch Optimus struggle to find recharge.

Though his systems urged him toward recharge, his processor refused to shut down, Optimus could not fully power down; he was too wired, wanting to get things done. His optics flickered warmly as small hands traced gentle patterns along the seams and plating of his facial structure, he  into the gentle touch and a deep noise vibrated through his chassis.

" rest does not come as easy," he rumbled softly, careful not to disturb their exploration. Lifting a digit, he softly returned their touch, letting its tip graze their back with the lightest of pressures. "Forgive me, my processor won't shut down." He sighed, Duty was not easily set aside for him, so many things were at stake. 

 Gazing down at their small form outlined against the blue glow of his sparkchamber. " talk to me Op, what's wrong?" They ask softly. Their eyes looked up at him worried over what was wrong, they press little pecked kiss to his helm. In truth Optimus was frustrated and didn't know how to address it. For a moment, no words came as buried memories and emotions swirled within.

Then, venting softly, he spoke in a low rumble. "There have been many vorns since last I self serviced. Much has changed, I'm as you would say ‘Pent up’ " His voice took on a weary edge. "The burdens of leadership are not easily set aside, even in recharge. Responsibility for so many weighs heavy, and some days the path ahead seems shrouded in darkness. I strive always to make the choices that will safeguard our future...yet doubt can linger that I have made the right ones. And I have Neglected my own sensors"

He gazed off into the distance as centuries of struggle flickered across his optics. "It's something I haven't had the opportunity to fix." His plating fluttered faintly, a faint expression of inner turmoil.

They lean up and press an ever so soft to his lips, " can I help anyway?" They inquiry. Small hands cupping his face as they continue peppering small kisses across his frame. "Blowjob?" The human jokingly asks as laughter spills from their lips. "Sorry, sorry." They laugh more, pressing their face into his chassis. 

Optimus sighs wearily, field damping the warmth of your affectionate touches. While their humor and willingness to aid are well-intentioned, certain acts would go against his principles.

"I thank you for the offer of assistance," he rumbles gently, servos enveloping your smaller hands where they cradle his faceplate. Optics crinkling, he adds, "But I fear certain... biological functions may cause unwarranted distress to your human systems."

Lifting them closer, he gazes down at them with a small smile. His field radiates gratitude and care. While desire is not unknown to him, duty to his cause and their safety comes first. 

"Optimus the size doesn't really phase me if that's what you're worried about" they reply moving further down his form. "Would it help you recharge with some release?" It's an inquiry while they slowly move down his tanks to the interface panel. They run their hands over his form gently in circles. “I'm offering Optimus, I know it may be hard to understand but you deserve to relax and have someone take the burdens off your shoulders even if it's just for a little” 

Optimus vents softly, gazing down at them with gentle optics. While their intention is clearly to provide relief and pleasure, his worry is certain intimacies that could endanger their small frame.

Still, their caring touch along his plating brings serenity amid endless conflicts in his own mind. "You have a kind spark," he rumbles softly. "However, as your Guardian I cannot in good conscience engage in acts that could risk your well-being, no matter how well-meaning the offer." Lifting their face with a digit, he strokes their cheek with another. 

"Optimus just for one night, what do you want, not what you think, what do you want" they ask while pressing soft kisses to his plating. Orion stirs within at the words, 

Their delicate touches along seams and plating bring solace yet kindle fleeting fantasies, he wanted them, but it wasn't something he could allow him. 

"For one night don't be the leader just be Orion, relax, let me look after you" they argue back, and in that moment Optimus realises that he wasn't going to win this argument. " trust me, i know you struggle with trust but trust me " they state pressing kisses further down his interface panel.

He Venting softly. “I haven't done this before” he states. He's worried over so many things but the moment their lips press against a tender spot it has him gasping loudly, as a servo gripping the side of his berth.  His armour plates part with a hiss, baring the metal within to your exploration.

They smile as his spike pressurises. Small hands wrap around him. Slowly moving up and down, they slowly press a kiss to the base. Their eyes flicker down to his valve. "Just relax" they call out to him. 

 Optimus releases a soft ventilation at their careful touch, mental disciplines the sole barrier against fully surrendering to sensation, He traces their back with gentle digits as their tongue teases along heated metal and wiring. An age-old ache stirs within as desire threatens long-banished fantasies. 

The human's exploration pulls sounds from his vocalizer unheard since vorns ago, He meets their upward gaze, One of His digits trace cheek in gratitude. 

One of their hands moves down to Optimus' valve slowly teasing him open, they run their tongue along nodes as they move further down. Their eyes widen at the sweet taste. They dive in for more of Optimus' sweet taste. A soft shudder runs through Optimus' frame as their questing fingers dance across nodes and explore, delving deeper. It has him arching with a sinful moan slipping from him.  

He releases a quiet rumble at the sensations. His spike throbs as their tongue teases unseen nodes, coaxing transfluid rich glowing arousal from hidden manifolds. Their mouth drinks it as quickly as they can, and for a moment he worries over the effect of it in a human's system, but the worry is thrown out the window the moment they take his spike into their mouth. 

A whimpered sound leaves him, optics shutter at the sinful feeling of their mouth against his spike. "Damn you really are pent up" they tease, lips tracing patterns against  his spike, lapping up the small amounts of transfluid dripping from him. "God you taste amazing, so sweet " they call out before trying to take him further into their mouth.

Optimus releases a soft groan at their teasing words, optics brightening at their evident enjoyment. The praise and eagerness to please stir long-dimmed responses deep within his core.

He ventilations deeply as their lips and glossa work flicking lights that line his spike, coaxing fresh waves of transfluid from him. He had never had a partner tend to these sensors so caringly. So many things he didn't know were possible. 

His servos gently cradle them against his spike's pulsing heat, digits tracing their form in wordless rapture,  moans, cries and deep vents fall from him. They take him further into their mouth transfluid leaking from the sides as they lap up the sweet pink fluid. pulling away from a moment before moving right back down to his valve, rotating between both as they work Optimus up slowly. "You look so pretty like this you know" they call out.

Optimus utters a loud gasp as they redouble their attention. “please, please” he all but sobs out, rocking into their touch. Their praise had him melting under them. For the first time since before memory itself. strain-knotted lines, awakening his frame and he's nearly begging for release.

As ecstasy rises within burning waves, "That's it, so good for me, gonna overload for me sweetheart?" They call out, lips wrapping back around his valve node, sucking harder as they press their hand into Optimus' Valve, thrusting in and out quickly. Tremors run through Optimus' frame at their eager ministrations bring him swiftly cresting toward his peak. 

Their hands and sweet mouth coax ecstasy ripening within hidden nodes newly sensitised. Pleasure rends seams locked up his systems And as peak claims his senses, he cries out rocking desperately into each touch.

When Optimus finally overloads, he goes lax against his berth. Their lips and tongue work swiftly with licking up more of his transfluid. his optics online again it's to the view of their lips against his spike lapping up the pink fluid. 

Optimus vents softly as awakening creeps back into weary systems, steam vents from him, fans kick in as he lays there body almost like jelly. He trails gentle digits across their cheek, “what are you doing?” he asked with a static to his voice. 

They continue drinking up his transfluid, trying not to let it drip down onto the berth, eager lips taking as much as they physically can, their smaller body leant against his thighs as they clean him. “enjoying myself” they chuckle. His systems sink into peace, welcoming the touch as they devoted attention to every crease of his plating. They are dedicated to making sure no drop goes to waste, worshipping each sensor until static fades into serenity. 

“never thought you'd taste like Blue V” they chuckle while lapping up more of him, when they do finally pull away from his spike it's with a loud pop. 

"I think I'm going to have to make this a common thing, because i rather enjoy how nice you taste," they call out. Their tongue is stained pink but they continue sucking the sweet tasting liquid from his plating. Optimus ventilates softly at their suggestion, optics half lidded. 

Optimus vents softly as recharge's gentle tide pulls at weary systems so recently stirred alive. His frame relaxes into deepening rest with a contented rumble, his human's smaller form nestled safe against his thighs and interface panel still thrumming warmth. Their face pressed into the metal as they find sleep against his form. 

“You did what with a human!?” Ratchet nearly shouts, he looks ready to fall over when Optimus inquires about the effect of Transfluid on a human's system. 

“Ratchet please, I will explain but I need to know if it is harmful to a human” he pleads. He's worried about his human ward. 

Ratchet sighs as both Ratchet and Optimus stand there researching the effects. 

“no it isn't harmful, but you are now getting a full check up and you are going to explain how this happened!” Ratchet growls as he points a digit at the Prime. 

#transformers #transformers x reader #transformers x human #transformers prime #optimus x reader #tfp optimus prime #optimus #optimus prime #transformers idw #valveplug #transformers g1 #transformers lost light

[digenerate-trash]

Yandere faction leader sydney x reader headcanons (reader joins the faction originally but after Sirris dies it takes a turn for the worse…)

Sydney- such a sweet innocent presence. him and his dad have been doing everything they can too keep everyone feeling safe and calm.

Sirris keeps everyone fed and clothed. there are fires every night where people share stories and talk and laugh

youre close with Sirris and Sydney. They're the only two people at school that feel like family. and now that you have no home to go back to they might as well be.

when Sirris starts to get sick you worry. you offer him food and water but he readily gives it away to students he thinks need it the most. he gets sluggish and over time

the morning Sydney stops talking is when you know Sirris is gone. you offer to comfort him but Sydney has his own plans. he locks the library and keeps everyone trapped inside. he writes down a lengthy list of rules and posts them up for everyone to see. Sirris is dead and Sydney is now in charge...

the first week goes well. some other students stay silent along with Sydney some offer to do chores to keep the library clean and safe. people are working to make things easier for everyone and despite the tragedy people are calm.

Sydney starts insisting you sleep in the back office with him. he grabs your sleeve and drags you there every night. It's secluded and cold but safe... away from the others...

sometimes in the middle of the night, you think you hear Sydney singing... but that might just be a dream.

after a couple weeks, the isolation is getting to some of the others. they want to see their friends. they want to leave the library. they shout and cause problems. they throw tantrums and refuse to follow the rules. the next day they're gone.

everyone assumes they left. and some of the other people who cause to many problems are gone too. rule breakers escape the library it seems...

still Sydney's closest "disciples" have the first good news since Sirris' death. they've found a hoard of rats they hunt at night. scraps of meat are soon cooked over open fires, it's a miracle everyone gets to eat.

not only that but some of the most devoted followers are allowed to leave the library. they come back with good news from the outside. they bring bottles and buckets of water. though they mention that the world outside is hostile and almost everyone is dead...

eventually, the library becomes quiet. and Sydneykeeps to the back room. he only leaves when he's needed and in the meantime, he keeps you with him. constantly.

you're clean. he pampers you. you get the best cuts of meat and he makes sure you're always clean. he brushes and braids your now long hair keeping you as presentable as possible. but he never lets you leave anymore.

Sydney sometimes leaves at night when he thinks you're asleep and when he comes back his hands are dripping with blood. to much blood... he washes them in a bucket ritualistically before he returns to your side

"Sorry for leaving you" he whispers. his voice a harsh rasp "I had to deal with the Rats again..."

#forgotten au #sirris the science teacher #sydney the faithful #sydney the fallen