#I hope this didn’t sound like a weird dream. I just thought this was kinda sweet bc UGH ITS HADES!!! BEING A DAD!! WHEN HE THOUGHT HE WOULD | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starlightandfairies · 22 days

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Hiii 🫶🏼 I hope you're still up for doing an Elijah request! 🤗 I can't get this man out of my head haha

Soo it would be an idea where they met somewhere in Mystic Falls and immediately felt some bond between them, so it happens that they start falling in love (she's human but knows about vampires) but she's too afraid to get hurt so she also tries not to get too close to Elijah. One night he sees some stranger following her home from the Grill and even starts attacking her, Elijah is immediately there saving her and taking her home with him to treat her wounds (mostly some scratches) and he's just super worried. There she realizes that Elijah would never be the one hurting her and they finally share their feelings with a lot of kissing and cuddles afterwards and he holds her, telling how much she means to him.

Oh I hope this is not too weird at all 🙈❤️

Description: Upon meeting Elijah Mikaelson, the feelings start to come but in fear of being hurt, the reader decides to keep her walls up to protect herself. This changes after Elijah protects her after being attacked.

Warnings: fluff, small angst, physical assault (mild), she/her pronouns, maybe swearing?

*Requests are open, please send through as many requests as you want, check my character list and requesting rules.*

Thanks so much for making this request! I can never get sick of Elijah, this man is always on my mind and please feel free to request again if you wish :) I really enjoyed writing this, thank you again :D

Key: Y/N = Your Name, POV = Point of view

Word Count: 2,125

First Person's POV

Tonight at the Grill was a ‘live acoustics’ night, some of the performers were good and others were quite frankly not that great. Bonnie, Elena and Caroline were off on the next big adventure for the vampiric save-the-day business and while I knew about all the vampires, witches, werewolves and all that extra fun stuff. Besides Matt, I was the only human in the group and somehow I was pushed aside to be kept ‘safe; despite Matt always being dragged into the whirlpool of drama even if he didn’t want to be.

“The music is wonderful for the atmosphere tonight, don’t you agree?” That voice would haunt my dreams, haunt my every thought, I couldn’t fathom how gentle and warm a voice could sound. I glanced to the side, shooting a polite smile to the impeccably dressed man and nodded in agreement.

“I do agree, I feel like I’m in like a cute little romance story, the warm lighting and the music-“ I cut myself short, realising I was babbling to a random stranger who more than likely did not care for my ideas and thoughts.

“I can see how you would see that.” Oh, gosh- those eyes! That smile! This man would haunt me forever, picture perfect and everything I would want in a man. I continued to share a polite smile with the man, fiddling with the straw in my chocolate milkshake and turned myself slightly to face the man a little better.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you…?” Realising that he was waiting for my name, I placed my drink down and took his hand.

“Y/N L/N” He softly cupped my hand, shaking it and proceeded to share his name.

“Elijah Mikaelson.” I wish I could’ve hidden my reaction better, my eyes went wide, and my smile flattened for a moment before I quickly made sure to continue to be nice and polite. Elijah carefully rested my head on the bar, took a small sip of whatever his drink was and gazed at me with a quizzical look.

“You know who I am…” His tone was neither harsh nor hurt, Elijah seemed to have suspected my knowledge of his name and he even seemed curious by the idea of my knowledge.

“I know of your brother Niklaus… Elena told me about you, I think she might have exaggerated a bit. You don’t seem like the antagonist she kinda painted you out to be. From what I’ve heard, you’re the nicer brother… the noble one and I'm sure first glances can be deceiving but… I don’t know- you don’t seem like a bad man.” He briefly licked his lips, eyes shooting up to the ceiling and seemed to be contemplating his next moves.

“I suppose you know-“

“That you’re a…” I leaned closer to whisper so people passing by wouldn’t hear.

“An Original.”

“You don’t seem to be phased.”

“Team doppelgänger has built up my immunity to supernatural beings.” I let out a weak chuckle, cringing internally and turned my focus back on my drink. I wanted to keep speaking with him, I really did want to keep speaking with him but I knew the world that I happened to live in and I didn’t fancy the idea of being bait or hurt as collateral damage.

“It was really nice to meet you Elijah but I have to go.” He nodded, that handsome smile appearing once more, his actions made me gush and brought butterflies into my belly as he grabbed my jacket and assisted in placing it back on.

“I hope that you have a good evening, Y/N”

“Same to you Elijah.” He seemed to have a thought pop into his head, I stopped in my tracks, allowing for him to have the benefit of the doubt and give him the chance to speak his mind.

“May I have the pleasure of seeing you again?”

“Maybe… There’s always tomorrow.” I knew I had given myself away, I could feel my heart skip a beat, I’m sure he could hear it, his facial expression didn’t change but I could feel that he knew what I was feeling.

“Have a good evening,” I whispered, brushing past him to carry on my way.

+++++++

I had seen Elijah a couple of times since our first meeting, we had small conversations and I tried my best to conceal my heart, I didn't want to get close to this man despite enjoying his presence, his voice and the true appearance of his gentlemanly ways made me fall into a daydream greater than any story or dream I could ever have or read.

The next time I saw Elijah was three months after our first meeting, as I said we had multiple different meetings and they were all the greatest moments of my life despite how much I tried to protect my fragile heart. I had left my home for the park, I wanted to read outside of my home and get some fresh air away from the stuffiness of my bedroom. I rested the picnic blanket underneath a large tree, I read three chapters of my book before I felt a presence looming nearby, I placed the book to the side and stood up, surveying the area for a figure and jumped in my skin seeing Elijah approaching me.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you, may I join you?" I nodded, smiling at the man, watching as he unbuttoned his shirt and sat down with me on the picnic blanket. He gently picked my book up, staring at the cover with intrigue, I observed him with butterflies growing in my stomach, a blush wanting to form on my cheeks as I continued to drown in what was possibly a huge crush for the Original Vampire.

"Ignite Me by Tahereh Mafi... I'm not sure I've heard of this one before."

"I doubt you would've, I don't exactly picture you reading a book like this?" He smiled, tilting his head slightly, a deep chuckle leaving his mouth and he handed me back the book.

"Why is that?"

"Well... I don't know, I picture you reading older books nothing from the late 20th century to the early 21st century." Elijah briefly nodded in agreement, I smiled proudly at my guess and fiddled with the tassels hanging off of my bookmark. The vampire took off his suit jacket and began rolling up the sleeves of his button-up, I bit the inside of my cheek, begging myself to remain calm and avoid giving away any kind of emotions being revealed.

"Enlighten me, will you though, please? What's it about?" I cleared my throat, leaning closer to him with joy forming, giddy that he was showing interest in something that I liked and enjoyed.

"It's the third book in the series, I've read it before, and this one is one of my favourites. Essentially the series is all about control some people have these powers and the leaders are trying to control these people. The relationship of the main characters is what I happen to enjoy the most about it, I love how Tahereh created their bond from..."

"Why did you stop?" Elijah gently questioned, his face furrowing in concern, I wanted to cringe but I forced the words out before I could let that show. Taking a deep breath, I turned my gaze back to him, scrunching my face up briefly and proceeded to explain to Elijah what was going through my head.

"Whenever I ramble on to the Salvatores and all that, it's clear that they don't care and I'm not wanting to force that onto you. I'm sorry." Elijah tutted, shaking his head and holding out his hand for me to take. Hesitating for a moment, I finally rested my hand in his, holding my breath for a moment and kept my eyes focused on him as he rested his other hand on top of mine.

"You do that too often, Y/N, I can see you trying to protect your heart and you have a wide range of information waiting to come out and you shut yourself down because you expect everyone else to do that. I hope you find someone... someone who makes you realise you don't need to do that."

"Could possibly end up being you, Elijah," I whispered.

+++++

When someone unknown came into Mystic Falls, it was always a concerning event, the vampires were always the most suspicious of strangers and most of the time they were typically right for not trusting the stranger. It was late when I left the grill tonight, Elijah was growing on my mind more and more, and I would be hit with a wave of memories at random moments.

"Up ahead, there's an alley to your right, walk down it. Try anything-"

"Okay... I understand." I whispered, complying as I walked a little quicker and turned down the alleyway. I cried out as I was instantly shoved against the wall, my head ached and the world spun around me, I bit back a sob as I hit the ground and hissed as the gravel bit into my skin. I kicked off my heels, not fancying a broken ankle and lept to my feet running towards the street but missed as the man tackled me to the ground and which resulted in blood slightly trickling down my forehead and more cuts forming against my skin.

It felt like something out of a vampire movie, I heard a whoosh and then a light thud. Elijah appeared, holding the man against the wall effortlessly with one hand and easily compelled the man to walk off and not commit any sort of crime again. I let out a few sobs as the pain sunk in and the adrenaline started to fade away.

Elijah swooped me into his arms, effortlessly taking me to his mansion and rested me down on his obnoxiously large bed. He crouched down, gently cupping my face in his hands, observing my facial features and swiftly disappeared somewhere before running back.

"Are you okay?" He questioned, focusing on grabbing the things from the first-aid kit to treat my wounds.

"I'm okay..." I whispered, hissing as he wiped an alcohol wipe across the graze on my palm and watched as he apologised profusely for inflicting any added pain onto me. Elijah was so attentive to my needs, he cleaned the blood and dirt away from my cuts and grazes. Covering them with bandaids, doing what he could to assist in caring for me. It was as he was lingering for a moment, observing my form that I realised that Elijah Mikaelson would never hurt me. He would never cause any harm to me, Elijah Mikaelson would protect me and I knew that I wouldn't need to worry any longer.

"You wouldn't hurt me..." I whispered, staring at the vampire as he grasped my face and held eye contact with me.

"Y/N L/N I would never dream of hurting you, you... you're perfect... Y/N you are the epitome of perfect, I haven't met someone as intelligent, kind, sweet, and funny in a long time. Y/N I love you and I hope that you'll allow-" I pushed myself closer to him, carefully cupping his face to kiss the man who had possessed my dreams too often.

"Elijah, please, never let me go, I can't keep guarding myself-"

"Shhh, I've got you." He kissed my forehead, pulling me into his arms and pushing himself to lay against the headboard of his bed. I inhaled, holding onto the warm and mesmerising smell of his cologne, I curled into his chest and hummed gently as he rested another kiss on my forehead.

I felt protected, Elijah was my guardian angel, and he made me feel warm and gooey. Made me giddy and the butterflies a constant swarm in my belly, I fiddled with his hands, staring at the family ring that rested on his finger and glanced to him as he pulled my face to meet his. I hummed as he rested a kiss against my lips, sucking in another deep breath and curling in closer as he strokes my hair, his touch comforting and loving.

"Can I stay here? Just in your arms? Where I'm safe and with you, you Elijah who looks after me and takes the time to listen and know me?" Elijah's smile made the butterflies come to life, my cheeks flushed red and his simple words reassured me for an infinity of time.

"Always and forever."

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bangytell · 6 months

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The room beside me | sg m

Spend the summer of a lifetime with me, let me take you to the place of your dreams. Double take—druv

Summary: Your roommate who's also your best friend accidentally hears you pampering yourself and now he yearns to have you

Genre: smut, friends to lovers

Rated: mature +18

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x reader

Word Count: 3.5k words

Warnings: f! reader, g!teacher mentions of nicknames (pookie, baby, etc) oral and fingering (f! receveing) protected sex (always do this girlies) mentions of jealousy [from Satoru]

a/n: heyy girlies please enjoyy i hope you really like this one as much as i did.

“Hey pookie, i brought you takoyaki from that place that you…” gasps of air, saccharine moans, and a heavy breathing came from your door

You didn’t bring nobody over ‘cause you were just arriving from school, not that far apart since he only stayed half hour looking through papers.

What can he do now? Stay put and listen? Open the door and join? No, no, Satoru, bring yourself together. He went outside after leaving the takoyaki on the table.

But oh, those sweet sounds from you were already on his mind. He never thought of you in that way, more in a platonic where nothing can happen kinda way

His hardened cock soon showed, in the middle of the street, great.

After hearing the door closing, you were uncertain about the noises outside, was it him?

Your goofy and annoying roommate slash co worker slash sorta best friend, it can't be, he was taking longer in school.

when you reached your climax and the silence hit you, the fear crawled up to your shoulders, what if it was him?

the hunger hit you, on top of your table were a tray of tokoyaki, Satoru were here before, did he heard you?

If he did, you hope he doesn't bring it up, you've heard him before, pampering himself in the shower, his moans are a tad lower and raspy.

But him hearing you was different a lot different what if he heard you calling his name in soft whispers while you imagine having him, in any possible way even if it isn't for long, just hearing that way he says your name so sweet and gentle while you gasp for air with his hard cock inside of you.

Gojo opens the door when you have a tokoyaki inside your mouth

"Hey pookie" you gift him a lip smile, since the food is still processing inside your mouth "Ah, I knew you'd be eating" he chuckles

"You just arrived?"after a gulp of your mouthful of food you speak up, he denies with his head

Oh.

"I was here, left the tokoyaki and remembered i forgot something, and then i remembered i had it on me the whole time" you chuckle and he does too

Were your eyes always this shiny? Gojo thinks to himself

"Let me guess, your keys?" he nods and loose himself to the hall, into his room

That was weird, even for Satoru, he would often sit down and make you talk about your day, so he can talk about his and how every student tries desperately to get his attention.

Being a full time teacher at the same university is sometimes tiring, until you get home and listen to Gojo blurt out his whole day to you, you're worried.

One, two, three knocks and a soft "Toru" leaving your mouth

"Yeah?" he sounds… as if he were running a marathon

"Jus' checking if you're okay" he hums and you walk away, something must be on his mind.

You devoured the tray he brought you while watching a sitcom, later you hear footsteps as he was out of the shower, with the towel wrapped around his waist, wet strands of hair falling on his face while he dried it with another.

He was worth looking at, his porcelain skin that went so well with his white hair and the cherry on top were those mesmerizing sapphire eyes that were looking at your gaze right now, you turned away to the television again.

“What are you watching” you could smell his body wash by now

“The office” he looks at you, with an angry frown

“I thought we watched that together” you chuckle

“I restarted it” he walks away again, to change, you assume “Hey Satoru, did you clean the shower?”

His head appears from the corner of the eye of the door

“I did not” you chuckle “but now that you offer” you laugh

“I will not clean if you’re out of there, i know what you do” now he’s walking your way, sits on the sofa next to you and laughs

“And what is that you are so certain that i do Miss”

“You know what you do, don’t make me say it” he leans closer to you, smelling clean and swallowing you whole within those blue eyes

“You listen to me, you perv?” he says with a playful grin and tone

“You’re just loud, and the walls are very thin” he pulls away and you breath again

“I guess” with the muffled sound of the tv, and a few chuckles now and then the night greets you

“You never told me how your day went” you locked gaze

“A bit tiring, since finals are coming, everything just feels on top of me” you nod, in agreement

“Since you leave everything last minute ‘m sure how you’re feeling” he chuckles

“I do not”

“Why do you work? I know you have the money to leave the school, why don’t you just?...”

“I cut loose of my family” he never brings his family to subject “And I do have the money i jus’ wanna feel like i contribute”

“So you’re like super rich and jus’ teach for fun” he chuckles

“Well you got one right” and the power went out, everything went silent and he reached his hand to you, the thought of him worrying about you made your heart beat in excitement

“I’m good Toru, i haven’t got up” you chuckle and the sound of heavy rain began to hit your ceiling

“The weather announced the rain?” he asks as if it wasn’t obvious by now of the pouring rain

“I don’t check the weather i’m not 60” you chuckle at unison

“Is going to be a cold and long night for me” with the help of your cellphone you light up the lantern

He is walking behind you guiding through the light

“You can come to my bed if you like” you stop your walk “Jus’ to sleep, we have sleep together before” he’s right, but now it feels different

“I don’ wanna bother” he chuckles

”You’re too small for that “ he likes the way the dim light of the lantern colors your features, and the way your pajama makes you look as when you were in college

“You never bother me” he smiles and you blush

“Night Toru” he adores that sweet nickname since you studied together

The next day, after sayin morning to shoko and geto you know them trough Satoru and now you’re friends as well, kinda, you got your coffee cup and went to class

When you got home, alone, because Gojo again left everything to the end of the day, the light is still out and it's been light raining all day, you’ve had a bad face all day since sleep was so bad, unconsciously you reach Gojo’s room, he wouldn’t mind if you take a nap there, right? His room is much better since the window gives direct sunlight and it can warm all over, you love your room, when the ac is working.

When Gojo gets home later than he expected, he’s soaking wet since the rain started a while ago. The power is still out, so he begins to call out your name to see if you were at home already.

No answer. As he walks closer realizes his door is open, and the moon gives him enough light to know that you’re sleeping in his bed, calmly breathing and buffing coming through your mouth.

“Toru… please stay” you say, in a whisper, he knows for a fact that you babble a few words when you sleep and finds it so endearing.

But you call for his name, in a pleading to stay, you were dreaming about him, maybe he misheard. Then a soft moan escapes your mouth and he’s just standing there, like a confused teenager, but he stays there, to listen more, to know if this is truly about him.

“Mhmm yes… Toru, jus’ like that” his name, leaving your mouth and she most surely see’s his friend in that way, sexually maybe even emotionally. He grabbed a change of clothes, careful not to wake you and walked out to take a shower, since his hardened cock was pressing against his clothes in a cry for touch.

You wake up a few minutes after he opens the stream of water, the need of touch makes you wake up in an instant, hearing the water makes your thoughts calm, if Gojo was here you couldn’t be touching yourself.

You had a few texts from Suguru, asking if Gojo got home, if he was okay and if you were okay. You chuckled and answered his questions.

[We’re both okay, Satoru is in the shower so i’ll tell him to answer to you when his out]

[Jus’ wanted to know if you were okay, you practically run every time the classes are over] you chuckle, you don’t feel like staying and talk to anyone, and you were sleepy today

[Oh.

Well is jus’ that i didn’t had a good night of sleep yesterday]

[What about every other day?] you smile and then, the sound of Gojo clearing his throat startled you, his eyes looked tired and he had a frown adorning his face

“Who are you talking to?” you stood up, to walk to your room, but he stands in the way

“Suguru was asking me if you got home” he opened his eyes in amazement

“How does he have your number?” he sounded angry

“Well, i gave it to him” you were mesmerized by his eyes , not letting you move an inch away

“And you guys talk often?” you deny

“He wanted to know if you got home okay” he snorts and move along into his room

“I don’t think you should be talking to him” you looked confused “He’s a womanizer” you chuckle

“I don’t think he’s interested in that way” he raises an eyebrow

“And why is that, he told you?” you deny

“No, i jus’ don’t think a guy like Suguru would pick me as an interest” you giggle

“And how could you know?” his tone is serious, like if he was trying to make one of his students to understand something

“Even if he is, i know how to take care of myself Gojo, stop acting like my father” he denies, and you walk away.

Open a can of coke and sit on the couch in the dim light of candles, and your phone buzz again, is Geto

[Did I say something wrong?] you smile

[No, Suguru, just got distracted]

[Please, call me Geto and what does it get to get you distracted] you blush and start to type away another answer

[Well, Geto, it depends, are you trying to take me on a date]

Satoru opens the fridge, gets a coke too and sits next to you

“Why are you blushing? you saw me enter the room?” you giggle and look at him

“You have your ego way up your ass” he holds a hand on his chest, looking hurt

“Did you sleep well in my bed?” he grins looking at your blushed cheeks

“Sorry, the sunlight was hitting your bed when i got home and i was so sleepy” he chuckles

“I told you to sleep with me but you’re so stubborn”

“I am not” he laughs and closes his eyes, he’s soo pretty when he does that you think

“If you aren’t, sleep with me tonight”

"I uh…" he startled you

"You love proving me wrong so badly that I know for a fact you don’t have a negative thought to my idea" he chuckles and you pout, he knows you too much

Without thinking it too much, you two end up cuddling together inside his sheets.

He can't stop to think about the idea of his friend interested in you, he's not the type to get jealous and make a scene about it, or so he thought until he notice the soft smile you would give to his texts, he knows his friend and knows how everything can go his way

"You're thinking too loud" he chuckles

"Do you like Suguru?" he blurts out, it's better to ask now before he loses his mind

"Yeah, he's nice" he deny and snorts

"Not like that, I know he's nice, he's nice to everyone I mean like physically" you have your back on him and he's distracting himself looking at the ceiling.

"He's handsome, and you can tell that he works out… and his long hair in that man bun he's always using I don't know how he can pull that look so well, and he sometimes holds the door for me in the teachers room…"

"It's a simple yes or no question you don't have to tell me all those details" you chuckle

"Well, yeah I do find him attractive, why?" he snorts

"Do you find me attractive?" you stop your thoughts, and even if you would like to kiss him right in that second just to prove him how much you think how attractive he is

"You have pretty eyes" he chuckles

"Answer me, please" You're confused, why would he need that type of assurance that you find him attractive, why would you matter?

"Well, yes Satoru, i think you're very attractive" he huffs and closes his eyes

"More than Geto?" Is he... insecure right now?

"Yes, more than Suguru" you answer, to make your friend feel better or so you try to fool yourself

"Thank you" you smile, even tho he can't see you, those words sounded sincere

After a few more minutes you weren't able to get yourself to sleep.

"Toru… are you awake?" he hums in response "i can't sleep" he grabs you by the waist and pulls you closer to him

Probably he didn't notice, but his hardened cock was rubbing against you and the heat inside you started to crawl up.

"Stop thinking, jus' close your eyes honey" his voice sounds saccharine and raspy

"It isn't that simple" he snorts and whisper in your ear

"Think about me then" that doesn't help either, you think, while his cock still is close to your skin but so far at the same time

"Toru… don't be like this" his breathing is slow, so you think that he must be falling asleep or sleep already

"Guess I'll just text Suguru, to know if his up" he turns you around so you face him, you didn’t knew the strength he had until that moment

“I can help you fall asleep” you chuckle

“Wow Satoru, were you always this strong?” he snorts and you keep laughing

“Why would you be so upset if I dated Suguru?” the dim light of the thunders and the moon gave you a glimpse of his features

“Maybe ‘cause i be jealous” he looks away from you

“Jealous of me for stealing Suguru from you?” you chuckle and he looks at you

“More of the opposite” everything stops for you, suddenly the pouring rain wasn’t heavy on the roof, the thunders stopped their rumbling and all you could see, hear and feel was Gojo Satoru and his hopeful blue eyes staring directly at you.

“Stop messing around Toru” he chuckles

“I wouldn’t play with something like this” and you’re heavy breathing, thinking of all the times you wished to just hold and told him that you feel so much for him, how all those years together made you see him as more than friend, how even he is so full of himself you know he also cares for other, encourages and challenges every person around him and you admire him, but you cherished him so badly that the thought of calling out your feelings to him would ruin your friendship, and you’d rather suffer in silence if that meant living around the person you love. And now he was sort of… confessing to you?

“What do you mean?” you huff and feel a lack of air through your lungs as if you know that your feelings made you feel this way

“Well, I don’t know how to explain myself” he huffs this time “But the other day, that I brought you the takoyaki i heard you… pampering yourself” you opened your eyes in surprise “By accident, I thought i surprised you with takoyaki since you ran from your classroom to here everyday… and then uhm… I started to feel the need to hear and feel you, i thought i was just being physical”

“I’m so embarrassed right now” he chuckles and grabs you by the chin so you look at his eyes

“Then I saw the smile you were giving to him, and the thought of you with another man just made my blood boil” what a possessive “I found myself thinking about you all day, when i heard you calling my name on your dreams I just… i think i have always liked you”

“As a friend?” he was leaning closer, every breath you could feel it close to you

“No… more than a friend” you gulp the saliva on you throat

“As best friends” he chuckles

He leans in and presses his lips with yours in a saccharine kiss, slow and soft as he opens his mouth to deepen the pace. Your hands go to his chest to grab from something as the lack of air pulls you apart from him.

“Is that enough answer to you?” you lean closer and breath in his cologne

“I might need a bit more than that” as he chuckles you kiss again, pulling closer each time feeling his throbbing cock against you as he stroke against you in need you lower your hand to touch him, to feel what you’ve been yearning for, Satoru moans in between the kiss.

“Baby… please, let’s focus on the kiss” you chuckle

“I get so distracted by it” you pant and he chuckles this time

“We don’t have to do it if you…”

“C’mon Toru i’m not a teenager, we’re not teenegers” He stands up and pulls away his clothes, and helps you with yours

“God, you’re body is amazing” is because there’s no light in here you think to yourself

“You’re not so bad yourself” he chuckles coming back to bed and accommodating his body hovering you, you begin to kiss again in a sloppy and needy pace, his body begins to stroke yours

he leans to kiss your neck and your legs shiver and tremble

“You should get a condom” he pouts and gets up to grab one from his night stand

He puts it on and proceeds to make his way to your wet and throbbing cunt, you moan when his tongue licks over your clit, and you knew that he would know exactly how to make you feel good, your saccharine moans fill the room and when his mouth begin to hum you felt the vibrations you began to quiver, his fingers make its way inside your folds and the moans leaving your mouth are loud, you feel his digits work his way inside of you.

“Toru…- stop… or ‘m gonna cum” he chuckles, pulling his face away to look at you

“Jus’ by my fingers? oh pookie but i haven’t been inside you yet” you quiver again when his pace quickens.

“Toru…-please i need you” you pant, he pulls away and accommodates his body once again to hover you.

The tip of his cock rubs against your folds and you feel needy, so needy for him

He doesn’t makes you wait any longer to make his way inside of you, you pant when he reaches your sweet spot. he thrust against you and his digits found your clit and began to rub, you’re both panting and moaning each other name like a prayer, after a few strokes to your throbbing clit you announce your climax, and he listens and continues his pace and movements.

The waves of your climax hits you, makes your back arch and pant his name so sweetly.

“Yes, baby, cum for me… ah… you’re so tight, you squeeze my cock so good”

he thrust sloppier and pants your name with raspy moans and cums inside the condom

Lying his head in the cup of your neck, feeling your skin with him and heavy breathing recovering from your climax.

“Hey Toru, i feel all sweaty” he chuckles and you feel the vibrations on your body

“C’mon enjoy this moment skin to skin” and you want to so you stay like that for a while longer.

He pulls away, throwing the condom away, then returning to bed and cuddling you.

“Does this mean we’re dating?” he chuckles at your question

“Would you let me date you?” you smile while looking to his eyes stroking strings of his sweaty hair

“I would be really happy Toru” he smiles

“Of course you would pookie” and you chuckle

Seems that your roommate also felt the need to have you as much as you did.

©️bangytell please do not copy or steal my work, any translation can’t be done this is the only way to read it.

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru smut #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jjk x reader #gojou satoru x reader

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twelvelevens · 4 months

Text

Hunting The Hunter (Chapter 1)

F!Reader x William Afton, explicit themes, bad language, eventual smut, reader is in her mid to late twenties

You tried to turn your life around by moving to Utah, where the unexpected was waiting just for you to show up. You will make sure to solve the state's biggest mystery, fulfilling your darkest desires in the process.

Ao3 link Chapter 2 Hey there! I dreamed about someone writing a fic with a strong reader, so I thought I might as well write it myself lol. It's something unusual for my blog, I rarely write fanfiction and this is honestly my first time writing something in English. So, if you notice some weird mistakes I apologize as this work hasn't been beta read. There will be multiple chapters (and the stuff will get more explicit as the story progresses), but I don't plan on making this fic very long, cause it's kinda difficult for me yet. Hope you like it!

🔪💜🔪💜🔪💜🔪💜🔪💜🔪💜🔪💜🔪💜🔪💜

You always knew something was off about this man, you just couldn’t pinpoint what. An exemplary family guy, a reliable co-worker, anyone could always come for advice to… “Good morning, ladies.” A one charismatic motherfucker. He was passing you and your female colleagues by, greeting you with the most simple phrase, yet delivering it in a way every woman within 20 feet melted as she stood. Steve came up giving you an appraising look for what felt like eternity, a warm smile lighting up his bearded face once he was done with the measurements. Your stomach dropped, the man wasn’t looking at you for more than half a second moving on to talk to your colleagues, but for you the time has stopped the moment the eyes behind those gold framed glasses locked with yours. Was it fear or… excitement? Frankly, feeling any of them does not make you happy at all, considering quite a strong intuition you have as a former police officer - a part you tried to leave in the past. A part that didn’t work out. You smiled back, stabilizing yourself on a water cooler (heck, you held onto its corner for dear life), but Steve wasn’t looking anymore. He left just as suddenly as he appeared, making waves in your life sea once again.

A regular day at work was soothing you with its normality, it would’ve been the most ordinary day if not for the morning encounter. You were going through your usual paperwork sitting at the desk in a cubicle, when the quiet humming of fluorescent lamps and fax sounds were interrupted by a loud ringing of the work phone. You almost jumped in your seat at the sound that hit your ears harder than usual. You picked up to hear a familiar voice call your name. “Please, come over to my office when you’re free.” “Sure, Mr. Raglan.” You answered, being anything but sure. The quiet day has ended right there.

You cleared your throat and took a deep breath before knocking firmly on the door. “Come in.” Replied the voice. You entered, closing the door. Steve was sitting at the desk looking through some papers. “Please, have a seat.” He said calmly without raising his eyes. You obeyed, sitting yourself in a chair right in front of him. Not being able to resist, you took a closer look at Steve’s face, his mature features captivating the hell out of you. The way he frowned reading whatever he read in these papers, the way he hummed in interest, the way he adjusted his glasses. Jeez, get a grip, a grown woman quivering like a little girl over a man double her age, you thought to yourself. He shouldn’t be seeing your weaknesses, not before you find out just what is up with him. “You wanted to see me?” You asked, breaking the silence. “I did.” he said, finally letting go of the documents to look up at you and smile. “I’m sorry, it wasn’t very nice of me to make you wait while I read all of these,” Steve gestures at the papers, “But this info is rather crucial for the matter I called you to discuss with me.” He points at one of the sheets. It’s a printout of security camera shots in a very low quality, taken a couple of days ago as the date in the corner suggests. “You see, one of the important objects suffered from a break-in recently, since there’s no regular security staff there at the moment. We’re partly responsible for it, because it’s our job to offer this position to people and make them accept it, however unattractive the conditions might seem.”

He got up from a chair, a large figure towering over the desk. The office was full of light sources leaving no room for the darkness, but he was so tall you can swear he almost casted a shadow on you. You were no small girl, but sitting like this before him made you feel like a cat hiding under a car, pleased with the cover it gave you, but anxiously wondering if it was going to crush you the next second. Thankfully, he only went past you to the other end of the office. “Coffee?” Steve asked innocently, making one for himself. “Yes, please.” You answered shortly, refraining from asking questions. Choosing the strategy to silently observe, you knew: interesting facts tend to resurface once you stop interfering in people’s flow of thought and just give them room to continue. Steve turned around, handing you a normal-sized cup that seemed almost like a toy in his hand. You took it, smiling thankfully, and nodded at him to go on. He drank from his mug, staring at you in expectation for a moment, and chuckled, surprised by the boldness: you stared back unapologetically and kept your silence. “So, uh,” he grinned and looked down, showing a tiny bit of shyness for the first time since you’ve met him, “I’ve noticed you’re not of the timid type, so I’m guessing my request will not be of trouble to you. Also considering your past as a police officer.” You noticeably strained. “Yeah, I went through your files. Don’t worry, it’s a simple job, you only need to do one thing - go inside and check for stolen and broken things. Well, and try to find something that’ll probably help identify the guys that did it, in the process.” “That’s two things.” You noticed Steve’s grip on his mug tighten, making his fingers go white. “So, do you think you will be able to do this for me?” He asked kindly, ignoring your statement. “Why won’t you just make the police deal with it?” “I am doing this right now.” He chuckled. “You see, the owner is a… Pain in the ass. He threatened to call the police, meaning putting our company at risk as well, for not fulfilling our part of the contract. I reassured him we will deal with this internally, so. Here I am, asking for a favor.” The man shrugged, spreading his arms in a wide gesture. “A favor? You will not be paying me for this?” You smiled at him inquiringly. Steve laughed and glanced to the side before looking back at you. He was certainly impressed by your confidence. “I might’ve underestimated you.” There was a short pause, as if he was considering what to say next. “Of course I will. Every job requires a payment, doesn’t it?”

You were sitting in a chair cross-legged, running your eyes through the sheets Steve studied when you walked into the office. Taking a sip of the coffee he made you, you felt bittersweet warmth spread inside your chest. Mr. Raglan sat at his desk across from you, arms crossed. “So, do I need to know anything about this place, Fazbear’s Pizzeria?” You asked, nose still in the documents, just the way he talked to you earlier. There was some silence, so you had to look up at the man. He looked back with a blank expression for a few seconds, before turning his head to the window. “I heard you’re not from around here.” “I’m from Nebraska.” Steve smirked and turned to face you again. “Yeah? I’ve been there. A couple times.” His expression suddenly made your skin crawl. Him and his secrets. “So, the place was really popular back in the day, but it has been long abandoned. The owner kinda wants to preserve its memory, I guess. A sentimental guy.” He talked about it with somewhat of a nostalgic feeling in his voice. “Right… So there’s a chance the building will collapse on my head as I walk in?” “It didn’t collapse on those who broke into it, I’m sure it can withstand a proper entrance through its back door. Besides, it’s well taken care of, you wouldn’t even be able to tell it’s no longer in use. We send people to work there if you haven’t forgotten.” You haven’t, and this time you were supposed to become one of them. “Ok. Why can’t I enter through the main door though?” “It’s blocked by a jumble of furniture and broken stuff, we asked the owner to declutter the passage, but I think he still hasn't done anything about it yet.”

Steve answered each of your questions as a diligent student fully prepared for the exam, yet the whole backstory seemed extremely shady to you for some reason, even though you got nothing on him. You had to crack him somehow. “Mr. Raglan…” “Please, call me Steve.” “Steve, you know, it seems like a very nice place to kill me and ditch the body.” You said, smiling widely, as you looked him straight in the eye.

#steve raglan x reader #steve raglan x reader smut #william afton x reader #william afton x reader smut #william afton smut #steve raglan smut #matthew lillard smut #matthew lillard x reader #fnaf movie smut #fnaf smut

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beachylupin · 4 months

Note

lighthouse for steve plss

you two broke up (not mutually) and you went off to college and didn't return to hawkins at all and when you did, you saw him and it was kinda awkward but nice to see him

Big Buy Blues || Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

i'm sorry this took so long omg :-(((( i've been so stupid busy, and i've had this request sitting in my inbox since early november and i feel HORRIBLE about it. i hope this is okay! if you'd like to see more of this pairing, please let me know (i lowkey am thinking of a second part) word count: 2.6k warnings: honestly??? like nothing. maybe like... old people being old people? and anxiety, kinda angsty?

Your hometown of Hawkins was always filled with Christmas lights this time of year. Every house looked like iced gingerbread, covered in a dusting of fresh snow. Christmas trees played peek-a-boo out the window with the children sledding down the sidewalks. It was magical.

Although it was magical, you went to college out of state to escape the small town with even smaller thoughts. You were bigger than Hawkins, and everyone there knew that. They knew that you’d amount to so much more than the little, strange town could provide you.

Escaping people was yet another reason to leave. Everyone in Hawkins was connected, whether from friend groups in school or the tragedies that seemingly struck the town every year. A messy breakup had sent you northwest to Minnesota, attending the university there.

Sure, there was much more snow and a lot more people in St. Paul, but there, you could be just another face in the crowd. Nobody there knew you. Nobody there knew what you had seen or what you had been through. You could just be a normal person.

You hadn’t seen anyone from Hawkins since you moved out in July, not promising that you’d ever return.

Thanksgiving not at home was weird, but necessary. Your friendsgiving was good enough to keep you feeling like you didn’t need to go home. You didn’t need anyone at home. You had almost decided to not go home for Christmas until your mom called, practically begging you to come back.

“Just for a few days, sweetheart,” your mom had cooed over the phone. “Your dad and I just want to see you for Christmas. You can go back to Minnesota right after.”

It was her tone of voice, the brokenness, that called you back home. It was the promise that you could leave that made your decision for you.

The plan was set: home for a few days before Christmas and heading back to your small apartment right after. No dilly-dallying in town. No time to see anyone. Just simply going to their house, staying, and leaving.

You had pulled into your parents’ driveway late last night. It was a joyous reunion with a promise of nobody else knowing you’re home besides your mom and dad and maybe a few family members. You hugged your mom before getting stolen from her by your dad, who hugged you like you’d been overseas at war. The hug had confirmed that you’d be staying later than expected, just for him.

They’d left your childhood bedroom almost the same since there was only so much that two people could change in five months: pink walls, white dresser and run down desk. The only thing that had changed was that your once twin bed was now a queen, taking up much more space in your little room than normal.

You almost missed the normal city sounds that St. Paul had to offer, but settling into bed that night, you relished in the quiet of Hawkins. Snow fell softly, quieting the whole town, and you quickly fell asleep, sleeping soundly for the first time in months.

You woke up to light streaming on your face, and you had to resituate yourself. You were really in your childhood bedroom. It wasn’t a dream. You really had driven seven hours to Hawkins, Indiana for Christmas just for your parents, and you didn’t have to go anywhere.

You dressed in light wash jeans with a rip in the knee and a blue, turtleneck sweater. Padding your way down the stairs in stocking feet, you saw your mom waiting for you in the living room, a worried look on her face.

“Honey?” She asked you, standing and walking up to you.

You lingered on the bottom step, furrowing your eyebrows. “Why do you look so nervous?” You asked, almost retreating when she hugged you, knowing she was going to ask you something.

“I need you to go pick up the ham from the butcher,” your mom said as she pulled away, trying to hand you money. You stared at her hand, your teeth ground together. “Please? I won’t ask you to leave the house anymore this week.”

“Why me?” You asked, still staring at her hand. You weren’t going to take it until she gave you an amazing explanation as to why she couldn’t go.

“We’re expecting company any minute,” she said quickly. “You’re great auntie Hen and grandma are coming over, and-”

You huffed, annoyed, grabbing the cash from her. “This is the one and only time I’m leaving the house,” you stated hotly, tucking the money in the pocket of your jeans. “Do you need anything else?”

Your mom glanced at your dad, who just shrugged, mumbling a quick “I dunno,” his typical permissiveness showing its true colors. “Apple cider? Maybe you could-”

You cut her off with a loud sigh. “Why don’t you get me a list while you’re at it,” you suggested, looking at your dad as your mom walked into the kitchen to grab a notepad, your mouth tight.

“Maybe you won’t see anyone,” he said quietly, causing you to roll your eyes and follow your mom into the kitchen.

She was hunched over the counter, writing things down as she thought of them. You peeked over her shoulder, scoffing.

“Mom!” You whined, taking the list away from her to look at it closer. “There’s like twenty things on here! I’m not going grocery shopping for you!”

“It’s all at Bradley’s!” She offered with a small smile. “Please, honey? It’s not good to stay all cooped up.”

“I want to be cooped up!” You could’ve screamed, but hearing the loud knock at the door, you decided against it. You followed your mom to the door, hissing, “I want to stay here!”

She shot you a look over her shoulder then opened the door.

“My baby!” Your grandma gasped, pushing past your mother to hug you tightly, smearing red lipstick on your cheek. She passed you along to your great auntie Hen, who held you at arm’s length.

“Have you been eating, sweetie?” She cooed, hugging you as gently as she could. “You look like you’re going to blow away.”

“I wish I would,” you grumbled more to yourself than anyone else, but you meant it all the same.

“My God,” your grandma scoffed as she was taking off her coat. “Did you rip those jeans yourself or did you buy them like that?”

“That’s the fashion nowadays, mom,” your mom said for you, sending a sideways look your way. “She’s a university girl now. She’s fashionable.”

You refrained from rolling your eyes in front of your grandma and great aunt, resorting to sighing softly through your nose instead.

“Well, that’s not what I call fashion,” your great auntie Hen pitched in. “Showing too much skin for my taste.”

“It’s just my knee,” you said quietly, feeling ambushed, but she continued over you, her hands on your cheeks.

“Have you gotten any sleep, dear?” She asked, looking at you through the bottom of her glasses. “You look exhausted-”

“I’m fine,” you said just to get her hands off of you. You looked at your mom, your eyes wide with panic. You wanted them away from you.

“She’s getting enough sleep, auntie. Quit worrying,” your mom said, smiling as she put her arm around the woman. “She was just on her way to run errands for me, so let’s get out of her way. Come on, now. There’s a fresh pot of coffee…”

Her voice trailed off as she ushered the women into the kitchen, leaving you to regain yourself.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in, making a mental note to change your pants when you got back from the now not-so-dreaded trip to the supermarket.

You grabbed your keys, your peacoat and purse, and slipped on your sneakers, not even saying goodbye as you left what was supposed to be your haven in Hawkins.

Bradley’s Big Buy wasn’t anything special. Like a typical supermarket, they had a little bit of everything. Because of that, everyone shopped at Bradley’s, and it just so happened that they all decided to shop at the same time as you.

Finding a parking spot, you parked, sighing to yourself. You looked at the store and how busy the lot was and dropped your head to your hands.

“Please don’t let me see anyone I know,” you whispered to yourself, shutting your car off. “Please don’t let me see anyone I know.”

That was your repeated mantra as you walked through the sliding glass doors, grabbing a basket. You kept your head down amongst the busy loud store filled to the brim with Christmas stuff and songs, walking straight back to the butcher.

You rang the bell on top of the counter, and lifting your head for the first time, you looked around while you waited for the butcher to come out.

Your heart dropped to your stomach when you spotted him next to the deli meat, his tell-tale hair now in a longer, modern type mullet.

Sneakers squeaking against the linoleum, you wheeled around, ducking down a half-busy aisle. Your hands began to sweat as you grabbed a random box of flake potatoes, trying to look as natural as possible while scanning the side of the box.

You hadn’t seen that head of hair since last May, when you graduated Hawkins High and the owner was there for Robin. Not you. Rather, he was there for her instead of you.

And now he’s here, at Bradley’s, an aisle or so down from you. For deli meat.

It was always something else. He always needed something or someone else.

“Miss?” The butcher called out, gaining your wide eyes. “You rang?” He pointed at the bell, and you nodded, setting the box of potatoes down as quickly as you picked them up.

You approached the end of the aisle, not quite stepping out. “I’m supposed to pick up a ham,” you said, holding out your hands to show how big it was supposed to be. “But I don’t want to carry it all over so I’ll come back.”

“What?!” He half-shouted, his hand cupping around his ear. To be fair, Christmas music was blasting, babies were crying, and people were stomping all around the store. It was loud.

“I’m supposed,” you started again, clearing your throat so you could be louder. “I’m supposed to pick up a ham!” You stood to your tiptoes, trying to shout over the people crossing in front of the two of you. “I don’t want to walk around the store with it, so never mind!”

His hands slapped to his side in frustration. “You’re going to have to come closer!” He shouted, and a few people glanced at your reddened face.

You huffed, and squeezing your eyes shut, you stepped forward, opening them as you got to the counter. “I need to pick up a ham, but I’ll be back because I don’t want to carry it all around the store,” you said quickly, and he furrowed his eyebrows.

“So you’re telling me that you’re coming back for it?”

You nodded, feeling stupid.

“Name for the order?” He asked, and you owlishly blinked at him. “I can get it all rung up so you can just come back and grab it.”

You gave him your mom’s name, followed by a quiet, “Thank you!”

He just shook his head, pushing back through the double doors into the cooler.

You scrambled away from the counter, nearly missing a cart as you ducked back into the aisle, pulling your list from your pocket.

You could just leave the store. You could just grab the ham and go.

Nevertheless, you persisted, grabbing the random things your mom sent you to the store for, including apple cider.

It was a nagging itch in the back of your mind that he was still there. You ignored it, keeping your eyes glued to the ground.

He hadn’t seen you, so why worry? It’s not as though he was going to recognize you anyway. You had gotten your hair cut, sporting a wavy bob instead of your normal, long hair. You held yourself taller than you used to. You had grown into yourself, a confident feeling that was quickly diminishing the longer you spent in that stupid supermarket.

Once you had gotten everything, you started on your way back to the butcher, hoping you could just ring the bell, grab the ham, and hightail it out of there.

You ducked down a busy aisle, clipping shoulders with a woman, who loudly scoffed. You looked up from your sneakers, apologizing to her briefly before continuing down while watching where you were going.

You felt as though your heart stopped, your feet stopping as his brown eyes cut across the aisles to yours. He perked up, sending you a small, lopsided smile and a wave.

You looked around, hoping he had seen someone else. You looked back to find him still staring, now making his way through the crowded store to see you.

This is exactly why you wanted to stay home.

“God, are you a sight for sore eyes,” Steve said when he finally stood almost toe to toe with you, his smile growing. “You cut your hair!”

“Bout a month ago,” you said, staring at him, taking in as much of him as you could.

He hadn’t changed much. His hair was shorter up top and longer near the bottom, and he was in a blue athletic sweater, wearing jeans and sneakers. If you wanted to be presumptuous, you’d almost say that you matched.

He even smelled the same: citrusy, green, and soapy.

“It looks nice,” he said, shifting his basket to his other arm. “How’s school, Ms. University?” You furrowed your eyebrows, knowing you hadn’t told him where you were going. “I talked to your mom,” he said, sensing your confusion. “Said you’re studying history?”

“Right,” you said, mentally cursing her. “Yeah, history. It’s fine.”

Of course she still talked to Steve. She loved Steve almost as much as you did.

“Well…” He trailed off, pushing a hand through his hair before shifting his basket back to the original arm. He stood a little straighter, almost as if he had come to some sort of quiet conclusion. “How long are you in town for?”

The dreaded question sent your heart to your stomach, and you didn’t really know why. You swallowed the pit, clearing your throat.

“Just until the day after Christmas,” you said, blurting out, “But I don’t go back to school until the fourth,” before you could stop yourself. The tips of your ears burned.

“If you wanted to stick around Hawkins, I’m having a little New Years Eve party at my house,” he said, his eyebrows raised hopefully.

“I don’t know-”

“Everyone misses you,” he added quickly, causing the pit in your stomach to grow bigger.

You searched his face, trying to find the hint he was lying. You sighed, finding him genuine. “We’ll see,” was all that you could give him.

He nodded, the hopefulness leaving his eyebrows as absentmindedly checking his watch. “I gotta run,” he said, smiling tightly at you before squeezing your bicep. “It was really nice seeing you.”

You met his smile with the realest looking smile you could muster. “You too.”

He let go, taking a few steps away. “Think about the party, okay?”

With your eyes on his, you nodded. He took that as permission to leave, a small skip in his step as he left you in the aisle to think about why your heart was beating so fast.

#answered ask #𓇼 follower celebration #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst

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todoroki-waifu · 9 months

Text

Mitsuya x Reader

Warning: Female reader and cursing.

Scenario: Based on the manga chapter 198.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 901

------

Just as promised from 12 years ago, everyone met at the Musashi shrine on June 19th to open the time capsules. You couldn't remember exactly what you wrote, but you were excited to see what your past self had to say. After greeting everyone and grabbing your boxes, the old Toman gang began to read their letters out loud.

It felt nostalgic listening to each other's dreams, bringing you back to your younger days. Who would've thought that up to now, all of you remained good friends. There was one person that you did wish you weren't just friends with though.

"Then how about you, Taka-chan!?"

Even hearing his name sent your heart into an irregular beat. You honestly felt like you were back in high school almost every time you were around Mitsuya. If you could write back to your younger self, it would be to encourage yourself to confess to your long time crush. Or at least tell someone trustworthy so they could find out for you.

Because years later, you're still wondering what would have happened if you just told Mitsuya your feelings.

"So, who's next?" asks Mitsuya, his voice refocusing you on the present.

"I'll go." You volunteered, eager to read your letter.

"Dear __(y/n). Hope things are good over there in the future! Any cool new stuff that came out? How about school? Did you make it and end up with the career you wanted? I hope so! Because I'm busting my ass over here. I hope you're still friends with everyone and that we're all still having fun. Also, did you ever end up with-" You stopped yourself before proceeding any further. "Oop, gonna skip that part."

Your audience groans out protests, some encouraging you to read your letter in its entirety. You argue back and stay firm with your decision. "No way! It's super private and kinda embarrassing!" You continue on, making sure to avoid any questions that involve you dating Mitsuya. Gosh, what the hell was your 15 year old self thinking?!

"Boo! You definitely left some parts out." Hakkai points his thumb down.

"Just leave it Hakkai. Let's respect her privacy." Mitsuya saves you from any more teasing. You thank the seamster then give the floor to someone else.

"Holy shit! I didn't know you liked Mitsuya!" You turn your head instantly to the voice behind you.

"Well you and everyone else knows now, you big mouth!" You could feel your face become warmer at the sound of some snickering and others suddenly questioning you. You avoided looking in Mitsuya's direction, afraid to see his reaction.

"My bad! I just happened to take a peek and didn't think about it!" Takemichi hides behind his hands while Draken calms the crowd so they could finish opening the remaining time capsules.

Once everyone had their turn, no one mentioned your crush on Mitsuya and started heading to the designated restaurant for dinner. You stayed behind a bit more, looking up at the tree where you buried your letters.

"Crazy how it doesn't feel that long." You jump at Mitsuya's approaching voice.

"Ye-yeah, guess it's because we still see each other pretty frequently." It was so hard to look at him, but you felt like you owed him an apology. "I'm sorry for what Takemichi said. I'm sure it was embarrassing for you and-"

"Embarrassing? Why do you say that?"

"Because of what I wrote? Don't you feel...weirded out?"

"Of course not. If anything, I wanna kick my younger self in the ass for not asking you out then."

"No way! You liked me back?" Your pulse quickens at the thought of you and your high school crush dating. You then feel your heart sink with sadness, reminding yourself that you're in the present and whatever silly feelings he had for you was probably gone. "But, I guess it's too late, huh?"

"Is it?" Mitsuya turns to face you, lilac meeting __(e/c). "I still like you and if your feelings for me haven’t changed, who’s to say that we can’t start now? Might be bold of me to assume that you still like me, but I've made a promise to not live with regrets."

"I would...really like that." Your face heats up, voice soft with your eyes avoiding his gaze. Mitsuya chuckles at your shy form, but he, too, is also feeling his stomach doing cartwheels.

"There is also another thing that I wish I had done before."

"What's that?" You asked then felt your face being cradled by his hands. You see him draw his face close to yours, sending your heart racing. It pumps faster the closer he gets, your breath stuck in your lungs.

"Oh fuck!" Mitsuya freezes when he's only centimeters away from your lips then gently releases your face. You both see Takemichi trying to quiet Hakkai as the tall male's jaw continues to drop.

"So-sorr-sorry! We just wanted to make sure you guys were coming, but we'll meet you at the restaurant!" Takemichi immediately turns Mitsuya's right hand man towards their respective vehicles.

"Guess we'll just have to wait until our first date." You laugh lightly, the heat slowly leaving your cheeks.

"Who says we can't get a preview?" Mitsuya leans towards you again, gingerly touching his lips with yours.

He probably shouldn't have done that because, now, he can't quell his desire for more.

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quicktosimp · 7 months

Text

Exploration

Kinktober Day 01 - Handjob

A/N: Hello! This is my first time joining kinktober, and writing smut in general. So I hope this is enjoyable for you ❤️

Warnings: 18+, handjob, praise kink, dirty talk, size kink, alien genitalia, all characters are aged up!

Lo'ak x human!reader

Thank you @pandoraslxna for putting this together for all of us 💕

Divider by @cafekitsune

“Wow, Kiri, what is today, hate on Norm day? Norm wouldn’t be that bad of a dad!” I laughed.

“I would rather drink acid,” Kiri exaggerated.

“Well, there might be a bottle of old bleach in the bathroom.” Spider grinned from the top of a pod.

“Come on guys, seriously, Norm’s a good guy; he taught us so much! He’s been showing me how to take samples of ikrans! I managed to get near one yesterday! And I didn’t need stitches!”

“Dude, you should not be so excited for that,” Spider groaned.

Lo’ak shifted over to me, “How many times do I have to tell you not to go near the ikrans without me?”

Pushing playfully at Lo’ak, “How many times do I have to tell you not to go near the ikrans without me?” I mocked, “You sound like Teyam.” I climbed one of the pods as he scowled, “I do not need a bodyguard, that clear numb nuts?”

“My nuts can’t be numb if I have none,” He grumbled.

Spider winced in the background while Kiri looked at him quizzically, “Why would Lo’ak have numb nuts? Nuts can’t be numb?”

Spider and I looked at each other blankly, neither knowing what to say nor wanting to tackle this. But I can’t help but wonder exactly what is under his tewng and how much I want to feel it, hand, mouth, cunt; I don’t really care at this point.

Because even though Lo’ak and I have been dating for two years now, he’s still scared of hurting me and refuses to do more than gently kissing. At this point, I just want this man to rail me until all my thoughts are gone. I keep dreaming about it, imagining what it would look like, but now I’m not too sure…

“Norm!” Spider gave up on this conversation, dragging Kiri with him.

“Sorry, Babe, but I don’t think I am qualified for this conversation.” I gave Lo’ak a quick peck and started to slide off the tube, “Maybe ask your dad?”

“Why would I ask him?” he grabbed me, holding me tight, “When I can ask you, Yawntutsyìp, you seem to know what’s going on.” flashing me his Cheshire grin.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I lay a kiss on his neck, “If you really want to know, then let’s go somewhere else. We’re not having this conversion next to Grace.” I continued my trail of kisses up until I was at the spot under his jaw. A deep rumble came from Lo’ak’s chest; this spot has always been his favorite; whether it be kissing or nuzzling, it never fails to make him purr. If I do it long enough, then I can smell a soft scent, almost like the trees of Pandora, and a hint of banana fruit that Lo’ak always loves. I continue to kiss at that spot, licking it, before I take it into my mouth and suck.

“Fuck, Yawne, you are asking for things you are not ready for,” Lo’ak growled. One of his hands travels down and squeezes my ass; I suck and nibble at his neck. Lo’ak grabs the back of my head, pulling me off his neck with a pop, showing the dark purple spot I felt him,

“That’s enough of that,” his voice in a deep timber, “Now I believe you were going to answer my questions.” he gently pried me off, setting me on my bed.

Groaning from the loss of contact and from the fact that I’m about to give my 9-foot-tall boyfriend a biology lesson, the only thing keeping me going is that I may get my own answers on what’s in his tewng. I clear my throat and fan at my red face, “So what do you know of human biology, like sex-wise?” trying to start this weird conversation.

“Isn’t it the same?” He asks, settling on my bed.

Well…” I began, “I’m not sure about that now,” I bite my lip, “I mean, I’ve kinda noticed over the years, your tewng doesn’t hide much…” I trail off, not sure how to continue.

“What would I need to hide?” His brow furrows.

“You know, your dick and balls?” My face is now a bright red.

Lo’ak looks shaken, “You mean, with humans, those… those are outside of their body at all times?” He whispers.

Now it’s my turn to be shocked, “Yes? Our gentiles are always outside of the body; it’s why we cover up?” My answer comes out as a question, “How… How do yours work? Where are they if they’re not outside?”

“Well, I mean, they stay inside until I need them.” Gesturing to his groin area.

I look there, licking my lips, contemplating my next question; I lean forward and ask, “Can I see?”

Looking up into his eyes, he nods, slowly removing his tewng. Even after talking, I was surprised to see it flat. His stripes on either side of his hips wrap down into a single line down the middle of his naval and looks to wrap around his back. I crawl forward to be closer to him.

“Um, they’re right underneath here.” Pointing to the single stripe.

I reach my hand out, stopping inches away from his chest; I wait for Lo’ak’s permission. At his nod, I stroke his chest, feeling his firm pectorals from his long days as a warrior. I trail down, feeling his abdomen flex as I pet them, loving the feel of his muscular body. Finally, I reach the conjoined strips; I touch them gently. Lo’ak hisses sharply, and I look up at him; his head is thrown back, but his eyes are on me, pupils blown wide. He places his hand on my head, playing with my hair. I stroke the stripe up and down, and Lo’ak spreads his legs wider. I settle in closer and begin to put more pressure on that spot; I feel it start to spread; there’s a little slit that keeps opening the more I touch it. Lo’ak’s slit got deeper, and I saw something peeking out.

“You will need to pull it out,” Lo’ak panted.

I took two of my fingers and dipped them into his slit. Lo’ak’s moans fill the room as I slip deeper. I finally touched something deeper, and using two fingers, I gently pulled it out. And it was like nothing I had seen before. The base was the same color as his skin, and it became lighter the higher it went, with the tip being a light purple. The tip was tapered, almost cone-like, but what caught me off guard was the spines. From below the tip to halfway down his shaft, it was covered in small spine-like riges.

“Not what you were expecting, Yawntutsyìp?” His grin was back; even through his panting, I could see he was smug.

“I’ve never seen anything like you before.” The awe in my voice was evident.

Lo’ak gave a deep chuckle as I stroked his ego.

“I wanna keep going.”

“Fuck baby, you can keep going”

Wrapping my hand around his shaft, I start from the base and move to his tip; the spines were flexible and move with ease as I move to the tip. Lo’ak bucked his hips into my hand once I touched the tip. I went back down, and the spines followed my hand as I went down, almost like they didn’t want me to leave. And I repeated. Again. And again. And again.

“Babe, you can grip it harder than that. Just a little tighter. Yes, yes, just like that, such a good fucking girl.” Lo’ak hissed through his teeth.

I can feel myself getting wet, watching Lo’ak humming in pleasure, and his dick is hotter than I thought it would be. He was throbbing in my grip; I squeezed a bit more when I got to the spines, “FUCK!”, Lo’ak moaned, so I did it again, “Damn baby, you make me feel so good. Ma pretty girl, so good for me.” I moaned at his words, my cunt clenching around nothing. I started moving my hips, grinding on my bed, looking for any friction, just needing a little something.

Lo’ak growled, “Ma Yawntutsyìp, are you fucking yourself on the bed? Don’t worry, be a good girl and finish me off, and that pussy is mine.”

“Please, babe,” I whine.

I focus back on his cock, which had started leaking pre; it was a pretty iridescent color. I rubbed my palm over it to spread it to the rest of his cock, making the glide easier. I want to lick it so bad, but what little sense I have reminds me that ingesting an unknown substance is not a good idea. I bring up my other hand, but Lo’ak grabs my hand puts my fingers in his mouth and sucks. I feel his tongue laps around my fingers and his fangs on the sides of my hand.

I move so I’m sitting on Lo’ak’s thigh, giving me a better seat; he releases my fingers so I can use both hands on him. I have one hand on the lower part of his shaft, and on every down stroke, I make sure to dip into his slit, making his whine. With my other hand, I focus on his spines and tip. I squeeze on the spines and curl my palm on the head. At this point, Lo’ak is fucking my hand.

“Ma Yawntutsyìp, please, faster, please!” His words came out between his pants.

I go faster, hearing the movements of my hands making a wet noise every time, a puddle of precum already on my bed. Lo’ak’s thighs tremble, bumping into my core and hitting my clit. Fueling my desire, wanting more from him, but refusing to take my eyes off the sight in front of me.

“Come on baby, I’m so close, just a bit more,” Lo’ak begs, his chest heaving.

I pick up the pace once more, watching as his dick pulses in my hand and the spines become firmer. I grab firm to the spines and grind my hands around them. Lo’ak became stiff; he threw his head back and unleashed a moan while cumming. Cumming buckets of pretty pearly cum all over my bedding and hands, dripping off of my hands onto and thighs, covering me in his cum as well.

Lo’ak’s eyes darkened as he saw me covered in his cum. He saw some dripping off of my thigh onto my bed; he grabbed my thigh and rubbed his cum into my skin that wasn’t covered by my shorts. He then dipped his hand into the pool of cum on the bed and bought it to my neck, rubbing it into the area underneath my jaw. He placed his face next to mine and sniffed, “You finally smell like me,” He purred, “No one will mistake you as anything but mine now, Yawntutsyìp.”

Lo’ak places his hands under my thighs and lifts me, moving me so I’m laying on my back, his eyes dark as he licks his lip, looming over me, “Now, Syulang, I believe I promised you that I’d take care of you.”

Update: A visual of the genitalia here

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pyramid-of-starrs · 8 months

Text

Get Along Better

Probably add a pic later tehe

Pairing: Hongjoong X Fem Reader X Yeosang

Genre: Angst, Smut

Warnings: Cursing, feelings of abandonment, cheating, acts of aggression (no one is hurt), Oral sex (male receiving), angry sex, Dom reader, sub reader, angry dom Hongjoong, Sub??? Yeosang, spit, drool, choking, cum swallowing

Lemme know if I'm missing anything.

Word Count: 4.2K

A/N: This was a wild ride lol, sorry it's not really fluffy, wanted to do something kinda serious :P I was listening to this drake song and thought of this lol

MINORS DNI

This wasn’t supposed to happen, this isn’t what you wanted to do, you know it sounds cliché, but it was true. You didn’t expect that you would be under your ex on your 2-year anniversary with your boyfriend. This wasn’t supposed to be how your night ended, and Hongjoong didn’t deserve this.

It all started about 4 months ago, Hongjoong had gotten promoted to head of production for his label and you were so proud of him, you watched him make his dreams come true. However, with his promotion came long nights, which for you meant lonely nights in your shared apartment, being kept company by the gifts he gave you as “apologies” for the missed dates. You spent most nights alone in your cold bed, you missed his warmth, but you had to be understanding, this was his life now, this was your life now. It may be unfair and even saddening but all you could do was suck it up. Then again was it all you could do? One night you got a late-night text, you smiled hoping it was Hongjoong telling you that he was on his way home, but it wasn’t, it wasn’t even a text, it was an Instagram DM, that’s weird. You clicked the message and knew exactly who it was, you didn’t follow the account, but you knew just off the lame name. “y30_d0ber_”, yup, that was for sure your ex, Yeosang, you thought what he could possibly want, when you went back into the message all it said was “Are you awake? Can I please call you?” you thought the smartest thing was to say no or just block him, but you somewhat craved some human interaction. You could blame yourself for having no other friends except your boyfriend, but you’d rather blame Hongjoong for not coming home.

“Sure” was all you said when you replied, you sent him your new number and not even 2 minutes later the phone rang. You looked at the unsaved number appear on your phone screen; you could still decline and say never mind but your finger moved faster than your mind and you swiped your thumb across the screen to answer. Yeosang called you to tell you that the girl that he started dating after you, had broken his heart, it was strange how comfortable the conversation was, then again before you two dated you were best friends, so it wasn’t too bazar that the chemistry was still there. It was all a big friend group with you Yeosang, Hongjoong and some others, you all were friends since high school, no one really knew you and Yeosang dated, everyone just thought you and him were close. He was close to Hongjoong for a while but then you and Hongjoong started dating a while after you and Yeosang broke up and Yeosang distanced himself from the group, he rarely spoke to you or Hongjoong. You two sat on the phone for 3 hours catching up and giggling and smiling, it had been quite some time since you felt happy to hear someone’s voice besides Hongjoongs.

“Sorry if this is overstepping but I just wanted to say that you’re even more beautiful Y/N.”

Your heart dropped and your face heated up over the compliment, you started to get a bit flustered, it had been so long since you were complimented, you knew that Hongjoong thought you were beautiful, but it’s been forever since he told you. You and Yeosang had wrapped up your conversation at around 1AM, you stayed in your bed smiling like a little schoolgirl. Like clockwork you got another call from Hongjoong, you immediately answered it.

“Hey baby, are you going to be home soon?”

“Hey baby…I’m so Sorry to do this but…”

He paused and your heart started to sink.

“…but what?” you said, it was still silent for a moment before he finally replied.

“I have to go out of town for a while, there is a singer that has specifically requested me to produce her album, this is a huge opportunity I can’t miss out on.”

He continued to give you the details of the job, but all your mind heard was “she”, why did it have to be a “she”. You knew that Hongjoongs career had him working with all genders and walks of life and you weren’t the jealous type because you knew that Hongjoong loved you enough to come home at night but that was the issue right there, he wasn’t even coming home anymore, in your mind you had no more security. Some other woman was about to be spending the time you deserved with your boyfriend, this wasn’t fair, that was supposed to be your time with him, those were supposed to be your late nights, why did she deserve them, you got out of your head to interrupt him.

“When are you leaving?”

“Her company is sent a private jet to pick me, Maddox and Eden up tonight.”

There is no way this was all discussed in one night; this was already planned.

“Our anniversary is in 4 months; will you be back then?”

You could hear him say “fuck” under his breath.

“Y/N, it really is out of my con-“

“But it’s not though, this is what you wanted, you could have said no, and you didn’t Hongjoong.” you got mad, he didn’t even discuss things with you, he didn’t even try to offer to take you with him, he was just going to pack up and leave you behind and alone just like he did every other night.

“Y/N, don’t be upset please, we both knew what this would be like when I got this position.”

“Yeah, I thought I would still have my boyfriend though Hongjoong, not some guy that sends me gifts instead of spending time with me or taking me out on dates, you know how long it’s been since we kissed? Since we went out, since we held hands, hell since we had sex? What about what I want Hongjoong?” you started to get more upset, you were seeing red.

“I thought me being happy was what you wanted Y/N?”

“Not if it meant me being miserable!” Your voice cracked and tears started to stream down your cheeks, there was a deafening silence over the phone, no one said anything for 2 minutes, how could he not say anything, you chose to break the silence.

“Whatever, enjoy your trip Hongjoong, I’ll be here, I guess.” You hung up and 1 minute later a text saying “I love you, I’m sorry ☹” from Hongjoong was all you got, you scoffed and went to bed with your heavy heart.

The next few months without Hongjoong was hard, it was long, but it wasn’t lonely. You and Yeosang had started to talk more, going from occasionally, to a couple times a week with texting and then to talking every night and texting throughout the day. You got text from your actual boyfriend still and could facetime for about 10 minutes but most the time he was either in his hotel room about to go to sleep or in the studio working. You had learned to be content with it, you became comfortable with it and had to accept that this was your cross to bear if you wanted to be with Hongjoong. You were grateful that Yeosang was there to keep you company though.

The day of you and Hongjoongs anniversary rolled around, and you called him as soon as you woke up, excited to just hear his voice. He answered after 2 rings.

“Good morning baby, how are you?” You said eagerly.

“Good morning” he said in a raspy voice, he yawned which indicated that your call had woke him up.

“I’m sorry, do you want me to call you back later?”

“Nah, it’s fine I’m up now, what’s up?” He said looking uninterested at the camera.

“Well, I just called to say, Happy anniversary…”

“Right, yeah, sorry, happy anniversary Y/N.”

You flashed a fake smile, and he gave you one back.

“You...you forgot, didn’t you?”

“Y/N, don’t start with me this early you know I have been busy; the days are kinda just going by fast.”

You tried your best to be supportive and you tried your best not to get upset but you just couldn’t help it.

“I get that Hongjoong, but would it kill you to remember our anniversary? It’s just one day? I bet if it was a deadline or something to do with her you would have remembered.”

He rolled his eyes and dramatically dropped his head on the headrest.

“It’s not like me and you are married Y/N, this is not that serious, it’s not even a milestone.”

Not that serious…not that serious… that’s the part that kept ringing in your head.

“You know what you’re right, it’s not that serious, just like you said we aren’t married, have a great day.”

You hung up, since it seems like this relationship isn’t serious for him it was time that it became not that serious for you. You decided to spend the day treating yourself and not replying to Hongjoongs messages are calls. You got your nails done, bought yourself a new outfit and even set up dinner plans, and no, not by yourself, you invited Yeosang out to dinner that night, on the night of your anniversary with Hongjoong. He was nothing short of a gentlemen the entire night, he looked so gorgeous, Yeosang had always been a pretty boy, but the black wolf cut he had done him even more justice. He asked if you were tired and offered to let you stay at his apartment since it was close to the restaurant, you should have said no, you should have just gone home, your pettiness was already done, why take it a step further? There was no logical answer to that question, you just missed being wanted, missed being held and Yeosang was there to do that. You two went back to his apartment, and you watched some random movie on his couch, you put your head on his shoulder and vented about how sad you were about Hongjoong.

“Y/N, he doesn’t deserve you, you do everything for him and sacrificed so much, why should he just get to be happy, I’m sorry you’re going through this.”

You gazed into his brown orbs before leaning in and attaching your lips to his. He said everything you needed to hear, he said everything you wanted your boyfriend to say and best of all, he was here with you. That’s how you ended up here in Yeosangs bed, bare underneath him as he kissed along your body. He kissed up the sides of your body trying to show you the attention you had been missing in your relationship, when he made it to your hardened nipples, he wrapped his pretty lips around and sucked them while his hands gripped the sides of your breast. You had to admit that the sensation wasn’t the same as when Hongjoong touches you because that was making love. This wasn’t that, this was revenge, this was payback, this was a long overdue fuck that you needed and had no one to give it to you.

As he sucked your nipples you moaned, your body was sensitive from the lack of care, he was so gentle and you were so upset, you just wanted him to fuck you, hard. You pushed him off of you , he fell to the side of the bed, and he looked up at you confused. You decided to take matters into your own hands, you gripped the base of his dick that he already put a condom on, he hissed at your roughness, he put one of your legs on the other side of him as you lined him up with your entrance.

“Wait Y/N let me prep you first.”

But you didn’t want that, you didn’t want to be cared about anymore in that moment, you just wanted to feel something to get the anger out. Once again you didn’t know if you were madder at yourself for doing this or mad at Hongjoong for pushing you too this breaking point.

“I don’t deserve it.” Was all you said before you sunk down on his length, helpless and needy moans came from your lips. The stinging pleasure hurt in the best way, Yeosang gripped your hips as you moved up and down on his dick, his heavy breathing, your moans and the squelching of your pussy was the only thing that could be heard in the room. You thought back to the time you and Hongjoong first had sex like this, you remember feeling shy with him seeing you in such a vulnerable state, you used your arm to cover your body and he giggled at you. He guided your hips up and down while telling you how beautiful you looked.

“You feel so good Y/N”

Deep in thought you heard the voice that wasn’t Hongjoong say this.

“Fuck, please go faster.”

Yeosang said as he dug his fingers into your sides so hard that it was going to leave a mark.

That’s right, it was Yeosang here with you, seeing your body, feeling you in the most intimate way. What were you doing here? Why were you doing this, you were covered in regret but then you are reminded of Hongjoongs actions since he was promoted, sure he was in the running for boyfriend of the year before that now he’s just a grumpy man that didn’t give you what you wanted, and all you wanted was him. So why not bounce on your ex-boyfriend’s dick.

You placed your hands on the sides of Yeosangs rock hard body and moved his dick out of your wet folds, he was puzzled but then you got on your toes on the bed and slid his dick back in. You started to quickly slam your hips onto his hard dick. Your pussy was so wet the sounds it made were pornographic, you moved your hands to Yeosangs buff shoulders to get more stability. He was barely hold on as he was roughly biting down on his lip trying to keep himself from cumming.

“Tell me I deserve better again Yeo.”

He couldn’t help his little whimpers and moans that came out, your pussy was tightly gripping him, he felt like he was going to go insane.

“I said tell me I deserve better again!” You didn’t mean to yell, but you just needed to hear it again, you needed the validation.

“You deserve so much better Y/N, you deserve this.”

You mean at his words, it made you feel empowered, made you feel like you had meaning.

“Yes, Fuck, I deserve to cum.”

Your pace got wilder as you started to scoot your hips back and forth, it had not rhythm of specific flow, you were just chasing your high at this point.

“Yes, cum Y/N, cum for me.”

A few more bounces and you were seeing stars, you and Yeosang both came as you held his throbbing dick deep inside of you. You swear post nut clarity was something men made up as an easy way to ghost women but that’s the only way to describe how you were feeling once you came down from your peak. A horrible strain of guilty washed over you as you removed yourself off Yeosangs now soft length. How could you do something like this to Hongjoong? Yes, he hasn’t been the most perfect partner, but he didn’t deserve this, no one did. You hurried and started to collect your clothes as you quietly spoke to yourself.

"Y/N, wait, you can clean yourself up and stay here if you want."

"Why, why...?" you said under your breath as you frantically put on your dress.

"Y/N"

"No...no...how could I?" you continued to talk to your self, Yeosang started to get concerned so he got up to check on you. He placed his hand on your shoulder, and you snatched your shoulder away, he jumped back.

"I'm sorry I have to go...this was a mistake." You left before Yeosang could convince you to stay. You headed home once you walked through the door of your apartment that was once filled with the atmosphere of love you started to feel sick to your stomach. You went to take a shower but no matter how hard you scrubbed you couldn't undo what you did. Once you were in bed you cried yourself to sleep.

The morning came and you were woken from your sleep by the front door opening, your eyes fluttered open, and you slowly rose from bed. You didn't even care who it was, you just felt dull and numb. The door to your bedroom opened and Hongjoong stood in the frame. You got up quickly hurrying to go hug him, you wrapped your arms around him tightly.

"I missed you so much Hongjoong, what are you doing here?"

"I took a break from the project I'm going back tomorrow..." he said in an emotionless voice.

You released him from your grasp and smiled at him.

"Perfect I'll pack, I need to come with you." you walked to the closet happily, was this your get out of jail free card? You could go with Hongjoong and forget this ever happened, completely cut all ties with Yeosang and just move on with your true love. You grabbed your duffle bag and started to put your clean clothes in. Hongjoong stood there watching you silently with a blank face before saying something.

"Y/N how fucking stupid do you think I am?"

You froze in place, there was no way he could possibly know, no way.

"W-what are you-"

"Don't fucking bullshit me Y/N!" He yelled as he slammed his fist into the wall, you winced at his sudden anger.

"How the fuck do you think I feel getting on to a private jet to fix things with my girlfriend just to check her location and see she’s at her exes house?"

"...who told you he was my ex?"

He rubbed his face, stressed that that was what you chose to focus on out of everything he just said.

"Oh, my fucking God Y/N I'm not a fucking idiot, EVERYONE KNEW! YEARS AGO! You don't think I put two and two together when he conveniently stopped being both our friends when we started dating? Why does that even fucking matter? Why the fuck were you at his house that late and for that long?"

You looked around and started to hyperventilate, what can you do to get out of this? What can you say?

"Y-you- this is your fault! You pushed me to this point!"

This isn't what your brain was telling you to say but you had to defend yourself somehow.

"I pushed you to your exes house?! Y/N I get it I'm working a lot and I'm so sorry I have neglected you, but you can't possibly believe that whatever you did over there was excusable!"

"It's not but...what was I supposed to do Hongjoong? You gave me no other choice. You didn't spend time with me, you didn't talk to me, you weren't giving me attention emotionally or...physically."

His eyes were like daggers as he walked up closer to you, he was inches away from you as he stared directly into your soul.

"What the fuck do you mean...physically?"

You licked and bit your bottom lip as you started to babble before tears started to fall out of your eyes once again.

"...did you sleep with him Y/N?"

There was a silence, you could hear a pen drop in that moment, you looked up at him, eyes filled with tears.

"...I'm sorry...It wasn't supposed to happen...I'm so sorry Hongjoong."

You dropped to your knees, you were so emotionally distraught you didn't know what to do. You wanted to fix this, this was a mistake, a stain that needed to be washed away. You cried so hard you could barely breath, then you felt Hongjoongs hand pull your wrist harshly, yanking you upward. He pulled you over to the bed and pushed you down on to it. He grabbed you by your throat, you could feel that he wasn't trying to hurt you, but the amount of anger coursing through Hongjoong could be felt in his gaze.

"I don't give you what you want because I have to work to provide for us and you go and do whatever the hell you want like a spoiled fucking brat?" his grip got a bit tighter.

"You’re such a fucking slut, so eager to hop on the next dick that you find."

You whimper in his grasp, though his words were harsh you couldn't help feeling turned on, your pussy clenched and unclenched around nothing while your clit throbbed. This was what you deserved, you deserved to be treated so roughly, what you wanted from Yeosang Hongjoong was giving too you right now.

"You just want to be fucked like a little whore then I'll do that." he released you and you coughed a bit.

"Get on your knees."

"Hongjoong I-"

"Don't speak to me, get on your fucking knees."

You listened and got off the bed and dropped to your knees in front of him. He stood there staring at you for a brief moment then grabbed your chin. He brushed your wet lips with his thumb.

"Did you let him fuck your pretty little mouth?"

"No, I swear."

"Open your mouth."

You obeyed him and opened your mouth, he stuck his thumb into your mouth and pressed your tongue down.

"Say sorry to me."

You tried your best to apologize to him with his finger in your mouth, but it just sounded like nonsense. He wanted you to feel stupid because what you did was stupid.

"You're so pathetic." He laughed at your efforts, a laugh you never heard from him. He tilted your head up and bent down a bit, you knew what was coming next. He spit directly onto your tongue, the cold saliva quickly turning warm in your hot mouth.

"Swallow."

That was all he said, and you closed your mouth, wrapping your lips around his digit and swallowed while you looked him in his low eyes.

"You want my dick in your throat?"

You nodded.

"Use your words, you're not that dumb."

"Yes, Hongjoong please fuck my throat."

"Take it out since you want it so bad."

He took his thumb out of your mouth, and you immediately reached for his jeans, you undid his belt, pants button and zipper and pulled his pants and underwear down. His hard dick sprung out, it was red and ready with precum drooling from it, degrading you really turned him on. You gripped the base of his dick and pumped it a few times before wrapping your lips around the tip. You started to bob your head up and down slowly like you usually do, but this wasn't a usual situation. Hongjoong grabbed the back of your head to hold it still and pushed his dick to the back of your throat making you gag. He pulled it out and slapped his wet tip on too your lips.

"I want you to fucking choke on my dick got it slut?"

"Yes."

You opened your mouth, and he slid his dick back in, Hongjoong was more on the average side when it came to length, but he had a good amount of girth, he could reach the back of your throat with easy and stretched your mouth while doing it. He rocked his hips as his dick fucked your hot mouth, he sped up the pace as you started to gag every time the tip hit the back of your mouth. Drool started to come out the sides of your mouth while he groaned and bit his bottom lip.

"You want me to cum down your throat, don't you?"

"Mm" was all you could say with your mouth stuffed, your eyes were watering and full strings of spit was coming out and dropping on your knees and the floor.

"I know you do whore, and you better fucking swallow all of it."

He started to pound his dick into your mouth, you whimpered at the unforgiving speed of his thrusting. You grabbed the sides of his hips to try to slow him down, but it was too late. He held his dick deep in your mouth as he shot his hot load down your throat. You immediately started to drink his seed as it came out. He pulled his member from your mouth, a string of spit connecting his dick and your tongue came out as well.

"Get up."

He started to pull up his underwear and pants, you got up confused. Even though you didn't deserve it, you were hoping that he would still give you the satisfaction of fucking you.

"I'm going back to work." Was all he said before he walked out the bedroom, you hurried to follow him to try to plead your case and hopefully fix your relationship.

"Hongjoong please understand that this was a mistake, I love you so much."

He didn't reply he just stayed silent as he walked out the door.

Leaving you there.

You were alone again.

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espinosaurusrexex · 1 year

Text

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠'𝐬 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐖𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰

two - suburban magic

BuckyBarnes x Female!Reader

summary: Bucky and Y/N get to Westview, but things are not exactly as they imagined. How will they work now that everyone thinks they're married?

a/n: I know the first two chapter are a little slow and establish the story, so I'm thinking of posting ch. 3 tomorrow. That's where things really start off - let me know what you think!

!Divider is mine. Please give credit when using!

word count: 4k

chapter warnings: fake dating, settling in, so much angst, kinda fluffy, also this is not proofread - all mistakes are my own

✶ 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ☾

“So this is it?” Y/N peered up at the red static wall. Her head was leaned back all the way to try and catch the end of it.

“This is it.” Bucky stood behind her, his hands buried in his pants pockets.

It was unbelievable. Yes, Wanda was powerful, but this? This was so wide and big and... kind of intimidating. Just not the Wanda Y/N thought to have known. She let her eyes wander to either side and watched as the wall extended into the distance. There was a faint whirring sound from the red. It seemed almost nostalgic, in an indescribable way.

Y/N turned around to Bucky, her eyes hesitant and drilling into his with nervousness. But Bucky seemed determined. He stepped further toward the wall until he came to a stop right next to Y/N.

When she had called him two days ago in the middle of the night, Y/N was set on this obscene idea to get here and start a totally unbothered life. Right now, it was rather scary. She hadn’t thought about how intimidating change was in a long time. She was too busy dealing with all her grief and the aftermath of the last major change. And now that she was confronted with this feeling of uncertainty again, she wished herself back into her boring New York City apartment with the same view and the aggravated neighbor, and the constant street noise. That was where everything seemed calculated. There she could control the next couple of hours without fear of major outside influence. It was safe and it was habitual, without heart racing or sweaty hands.

Maybe she should have never called him. Because right now, all of these things were happening. Racing heart: check. Sweaty hands: check. Uncertainty: check, check, check. Y/N didn't know what would wait behind that wall. That was if they were even able to break through. She didn’t know what would happen after they had made it. Back in her apartment, the thought of suburbia and its idyllic atmosphere had brought comfort and longing to her chest. But seeing it so close in front of her really made her question her sanity. She couldn’t just run away and live a life as a housewife. That was not how life worked.

So yeah, if she would not have Bucky by her side right now, she would have probably bailed the second she felt her doubts bubble up. But with Bucky, it was different. There was someone else sharing the dream of escaping with her and it brought a weird comfort to her. She wouldn’t be alone in there. She would have Bucky and Bucky would have her. She felt safe with him.

“We’re really gonna do this,” she whispered to herself, but Bucky’s ears picked up on it anyway. Without a response, he took her hand in his.

They locked eyes for a moment and Bucky look this time to nod intently in her direction. His hand twitched, reassuring Y/N of his presence and it felt as though this small gesture conveyed a bigger message only he could decode.

“Are you ready?” His stare was hopeful but concerned. He looked like he was ready to bail just as much as she was. But she wouldn’t pass on a chance like this, not because she chickened out.

“No.” She smiled. “But that’s okay.” She probably never would, but Y/N had decided then and there that that was nothing that should stop her anymore.

Bucky’s vibranium arm reached forward, hesitant to touch the magic wall, but not really stopping in its movement. When his fingers grazed the static, a faint shock hushed in the air, traveling through his body to hers and making her feel the force behind it. This was real. As unbelievable as it looked, this was real. Bucky retracted his hand in surprise, looking back to Y/N with a questing glare. But she just nodded forward in a ‘try again’ motion, her eyes desperate and nosy at the same time.

His flesh hand tightened around Y/N’s when he laid the whole of his vibranium palm against the red wall. Noise, light, power. All at once flooded Y/N’s senses as she watched Bucky lean forward to break through. Every part of her body was tingling with electricity shooting tiny white specks of pain in every part of her skin. Tears were brimming in her eyes with determination. This might have been a bad idea, but before she could even comprehend that thought, Bucky turned his head in her direction. There was something in his eyes that made her want to withstand so much more pain than the one she already felt. Like an urge to uphold anything for him in trade for the sacrifice, he made for her. A silent message was passed between the two and only a heartbeat later, Bucky pushed further into the flickering scarlet. His foot stepped forward, digging into the ground as he bent his knees to bring up more strength. Y/N took a deep breath and then she lifted her free hadn’t to the barrier as well.

Together they drove their entire weight up against the wall, but it was like leaning on cement. Nothing would move this mysterious piece of magic. It was painful, too. Like touching fire with bare hands. As if the lights were slicing through her skin, pulling on her nerve endings with unbelievable force.

Bucky took another step, releasing a forceful scream as his hand began to dent the wall. His fingers were halfway hidden by the rest of the structure. And all of a sudden, there was a shock washing right through Y/N’s body. As if she was walking through a painful waterfall that could tear right through her. There was no more pushing against the wall because it felt as though the wall was actually reaching forward, hugging them in its ear-shattering static noise. Y/N screamed as well. Her body was on fire, her head felt like exploding and if it weren’t for Bucky’s hand anchoring her to something tangible, she would have probably fallen unconscious from the pain.

And then, as fast as it started, the pain was gone. Y/N fell forward with a thud, as did Bucky, their faces touching the soft grass and an overwhelming warmth consumed the pair.

Y/N’s heart beat faster than ever, her thoughts running a mile per minute but not producing anything remotely sufficient for her situation. Her fingers were tingling, her head heavy - almost dizzy. She sat up slowly, looking around and taking in her new environment. The noise of the wall was faint from this side. The grass seemed greener and the air warmer. Not unbearable, but definitely summery. Y/N took a deep breath as she listened to the birds chirping in the distant trees. It was paradise, peaceful and calm - totally secluded from everything else, maybe even reason. There were houses in the distance and if she really listened closely, Y/N could make out the sound of children playing in their front yards.

A groan emerged from her left, and her eyes wandered to the man beside her, slowly pushing himself upright.

“That was...”

“Weird,” Y/N completed as she watched him taking in his surroundings as well.

“Yeah.”

Then he redirected his gaze to her body, scanning up and down for injuries. “Are you okay?” His hands rested on his thighs, his head leaning forward, urging her to talk.

“I’m okay.” Y/N smiled and watched as Bucky’s brows softened. He looked around again, probably taking everything in properly. “Are you okay?” She asked carefully.

“I’m okay.” His eyes stayed on hers for a little longer and Y/N could feel her chest warming again.

Bucky stood up, cleaning off his jeans, and then he held his hand out to Y/N. She looked up at him, her eyes wandering back to his extended offer and finally placing her hand in his.

“I really didn't think we’d make it halfway through,” she said as she too cleaned off her clothes.

Bucky chuckled. “Yeah, it hurt like a bitch.”

That it did.

Bucky stopped in front of a beautiful house. Painted in light blue and with white shutters accompanying the windows, the house stood proud over the suburban street with an unmatched significance. He must have felt it too, the pull this home had on everyone’s stare, inviting one's gaze beyond the white picket fence and longing for a peak within its bright walls. How Y/N would have wished to live in it as a child, how her inner desire longed for the ocean blue to engulf her and marry calmness to her soul. It was truly perfect.

The lawn stretched from the porch to the mailbox that stood right next to a real estate sign. It showed two heavily photoshopped agents with bright smiles and a bold number beneath, indicating that it was, in fact, for sale. Unbelievable, in Y/N’s opinion. This home was too nice to ever lay empty in an area like this: suburbia. Filled with people desperate to live a perfect life with their perfect families and their perfect happy, smiley faces that would hang above the fireplace.

Y/N’s heart ached at the thought. A family - the whole that had been ripped in by fate twice by now, which was definitely two times too many. And simultaneously exact the reason why she stood on this street, with that beautiful home mocking her misery in bright blue hues.

“It’s like out of these movies.“ Bucky muttered with a frown that didn’t match his doughy eyes at all, and a smile snuck on Y/N’s face as he said what she had been thinking out loud.

“Oh my, you must be the new neighbors!” Y/N whipped around and watched a brunette exclaim with the brightest smile. “I am so thrilled to have a new couple in the neighborhood,” she leaned towards Y/N and brought her hand up to her mouth; “Let me tell ya, Berta from down the street is becoming a little old and she always kills the mood when she starts talking about her dead husband.” The woman laughed loudly and then she waved her arms.

Y/N was glued to the ground, her expression unintelligible as all her concentration shifted to the sudden encounter with one of Westview’s occupants. The woman must have noticed how shocked and confused Bucky and Y/N looked because a second later she extended her hand.

“How rude of me. I am Agnes, it's so nice to meet you!”

“Bucky,” Bucky said while shaking her hand. “And this is Y/N.” He smiled as he hid his left arm behind her back.

Y/N just smiled. It was all she could do with the sudden realization that this woman had assumed them to be together. Moving into a house in the suburbs together - Oh, God. She thought they were married! Y/N’s heartbeat was pounding in her chest as Bucky played it cool, trying to get the neighbor away.

“So nice to meet you both! You seem like you’ll fit right into our lovely neighborhood.” She clapped her hands before her chest once. “And you chose the most beautiful home of them all, too!”

“We- what?” Y/N’s voice faltered as she turned her head back to the house. The sign with the two agents had a bold red sticker on it now: ‘SOLD’

She felt Bucky’s hand twitch on her side and was met with an equally confusing stare once her eyes traveled from the magical sign back to him. A silent monologue passed between the pair, though Y/N wasn’t entirely sure what she wanted to convey. Another squeeze of her waist and Bucky’s face turned back to the brunette woman with a bright smile.

“We really don’t want to be rude but why don’t you let us get settled, Agnes? It's been a long day already and we would appreciate some rest before the movers get here.” His smile didn’t falter and Y/N tried the same, but she couldn’t shake the uneasiness spreading in her stomach like a wildfire. Something had changed already and Y/N couldn’t place her finger on it.

“Oh, of course. I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone.” And then she turned around and walked towards a house with deep purple flowers in the front yard. “Welcome to Westview!” That was all she said with raised arms before she disappeared behind the door.

Welcome to Westview. That was the plan, right? But for some reason, it didn’t feel like it was going according to it.

That night was horrible. Y/N tossed and turned in the sheets of her indefinite home, and even though it was the most beautiful place she had ever laid eyes on, it was intimidating. As if she had no control over her future, nor the slightest possibility of knowing what could happen. To her, to Bucky, and really everyone else.

The time the neighbor had left felt like a blur. Up until the moment, Y/N’s exhausted body hit the soft sheets of her new bed, time had seemed like a concoction of colors that stretched and faded in long lines as if the moments had rushed by her and she could watch them from the window of a speeding car.

A lot of weird things had happened today. The first and undoubtedly the most scarring of them all was the wall moving through her to engulf her into Westview. She had never felt such a phenomenon but it was comforting that she could share it with Bucky.

That Agnes lady was a weird component, too, but Y/N figured every town needed a nosy neighbor and she just happened to have met her on the very first day. That was something both of them probably had to get used to still. In the city, people minded their own businesses. They went about their life with as little contact with strangers as possible and Y/N kind of liked it that way. Bucky probably did, too. And neighbors? Well, neighbors basically ran to their doors when another opened. The casual small talk Americans were so well known for was avoided like the plague. The only encounter people had with neighbors was in the case of complaints. And those were, again, nagging about their privacy being disturbed. Y/N had felt it the second she entered Westview: a shift in demeanor. Unlike New York City, people actually cared for their fellow occupants. In Agnes’ case maybe a little too much. People knew about the person at the end of the street. They cared about their well-being and they dug up gossip about their dog sitters if the occasion called for it. Suburbia’s inmates were well aware of the community they lived in, and that thought alone scared her.

When Agnes had left, Bucky had found a key in his pants pockets that actually unlocked the pretty blue house. And before the both of them were even able to step one foot in their new estate, a moving truck halted on the street with scratching tires. Four men, all dressed in blue overalls, carried box after box past Bucky and Y/N, who just shared another look of confusion. Whatever had been in those boxes apparently belonged to them, and once the men left the property the house looked like someone actually lived in it.

Beautiful wallpaper lined the walls of the foyer that lead directly to a staircase painted in white. A mirror hung above a small table that was decorated with flowers. There were jackets and umbrellas hanging in the closet by the staircase and just a step to the left opened a wide arch the view into a stunning open kitchen with an island of marble. The cupboards were the same blue as that of the house’s exterior. Further back beyond the open kitchen and the adjacent dining area opened another arch to a broad seating area. A glass door by the living room lead out to the patio, where a green lawn unfolded in the distance. A sizable pool covered part of the area and the rest was framed by flowers in all shapes and colors.

It was just as Bucky had mentioned earlier ‘like out of these movies’ and Y/N could have sworn that she had seen a house comparable to this in one of Wanda’s TV shows before.

When Bucky had reached to open the door to the backyard, Y/N had felt a shiver run down her spine. That was what had felt so off out on the street before. Bucky had looked at her with a questioning glare and as Y/N’s stare traveled from his hand back to his eyes, the expression on his face had fallen and been replaced by one of utter helplessness. His arm, Bucky’s vibranium arm was gone. Well, it wasn’t gone, It was normal. It was a flesh arm, one like the other he had. And just as it did Y/N, Bucky looked like it scared the living shit out of him. That had been the first thing that had actually been terrifying. The nosy neighbor and the changing signs, she could deal with, but this? This felt like an intrusion. Like a bad magic trick that secretly pulled the ground from under your feet.

He had ripped his hand from the handle and held it away from his body as if it didn’t belong to him, and that’s when Y/N had noticed the silver wedding ring shining on his finger. She had checked, and sure enough on the fourth finger of her left hand sat a thinner, more delicate version of Bucky’s ring. She Didn’t mention it, thinking it would just destabilize him further after the discovery they had just made. So after another beat of silence, Bucky had excused himself and left to the upstairs, where Y/N only guessed the bedrooms to be.

She had been right. Because after another hour of rummaging around the house, and getting to know the place to distract herself from thinking about Bucky, who probably just wanted to be alone, she went upstairs herself. Bucky had left her the master bedroom and chosen, what she could only assume the guest bedroom to be, for himself. She had gotten ready for bed reluctantly, her eyes regularly pulling to the door that led to a corridor that led to Bucky. He was just two doors away. Five feet and two doors, and yet, Y/N didn’t feel ready to take on this kind of comfort for him. Because it wasn’t.

So ever since she had gotten to bed, her thoughts had been spinning around the same topic. It was two in the morning, now and there was no sleep in sight for her. Y/N turned to her side again, staring at the clock on her nightstand in frustration. She was about to close her eyes when she heard a hesitant knock on her door.

She looked up when a muffled voice traveled through the wood. “Hey, Y/N?” Her heartbeat quickened.

“Yeah?” Bucky stepped into the room silently, his gaze low as his hand clutched the doorknob.

“I-“ His eyes met hers in the dim moonlight shining through the window. His were sparking with secrecy, an indecisiveness settled deep within. Y/N didn’t dare to move. He looked like a deer in headlights with his shoulders slumped and she could see his mind working on his features. Anything could scare him away now, and really, Y/N completely understood. “Never mind. I’m sorry. Go back to sleep.“ And then the door closed again and Bucky was gone.

But she hadn’t been sleeping. Y/N sat up in her bed as she heard his footsteps decent the stairs and after about ten seconds, she could hear him rummaging through the kitchen. Yeah, she would definitely not go back to sleep now.

The patting of bare feet sounded through the cool hallway before traveling down the stairs as well. Bucky stood by the refrigerator, retrieving a box of milk and pouring himself a glass. His bare back was exposed to the air-conditioned room, his muscles moving under his skin as his hands worked in front of him. He seemed to have settled with his new arm, as weird as that sounded. Of course, Y/N couldn’t possibly comprehend what that would feel like, but she imagined it must be hard to have it taken from him, after years of accepting it as part of him.

She remembered faint conversations in the compound with Bucky. She’d never asked him about his arm, but she had listened in on Peter’s curious questioning. Bucky had answered a bunch of questions about what features his arm had, and how he dealt with some issues, but he couldn’t really answer the stuff Peter was actually interested in. What she had picked up from it, however, was that the arm from Wakanda had grown on him and that he actually liked it, especially because it was from his friends.

Y/N slowly approached the brunette in the kitchen, and when she could clearly see the absence of scars on his arm shining in the refrigerator light, he turned around, his eyes tired and low on her frame.

“What’s the matter?”

He just stood there, holding eye contact as his mind fought with something Y/N couldn’t place. His mouth opened as if he wanted to say something, but then he closed it again. Time passed teasingly slow as he repeated the action.

“It’s just-” He turned around again, leaning on the counter and looking out the window. There was Agnes, walking along the street. What was she doing out so late? Y/N stepped next to Bucky.

“You don’t have to tell me,” she said, though she really wanted to know. She wanted to see if Bucky would confide in her, now that she was all he had in proximity. There had been an aching pain settling in her chest ever since he had given her that helpless look. A desperate cry about not being able to help the way she wanted, because she didn’t know where the boundaries were placed.

“No, I know.” There was a long pause, and Y/N thought that was where the conversation would end. She didn’t move though, her hand so close to his on the counter that she could feel him twitching on the stone. His breaths were steady and deep, the only thing sounding through the dark kitchen beside the constant whirring of the refrigerator. Agnes had gone further, she wasn’t within the frame of the window anymore, and Y/N quite frankly didn’t care, but Bucky’s eyes stayed focused on the dark.

“Can I ask you something?”

Bucky just hummed absently, the distance in the sound far more tangible than him at the moment. Y/N moved her hand closer to his left, her pinky fingers grazing his on the countertop. Bucky didn’t react.

“Do you feel with it now?”

His head slowly turned to her hand where her fingers met his. And for a second, Y/N thought she could see a grieving twitch in his eyes.

“No.” He shook his head. “It’s the same as before. Just looks... different.” Reluctance laced his tone as his eyes shifted back to the window after stealing a quick glance at her face.

Y/N just nodded and slowly retreated her hand from his, a sudden cold replacing the warmth that had been beating through her body just moments prior.

“A little late for a walk don’t ya think?” His voice sounded distant again as he nodded towards the window through which the pair had watched their neighbor.

“Maybe she’s looking for something.” Really, Y/N wanted to go back to the intimate conversation they just had. But Bucky’s demeanor had already switched.

He looked at her with raised eyebrows and then he stepped backward, walked to the door, and took his jacket. And with a final ‘I’ll be back’ he left the house. And Y/N? Well, she just stood there wishing for a little more Bucky. Just something that told her, that maybe, everything she wished for wasn’t just a distant dream.

𝒏𝒆𝒙𝒕 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓

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delyth88 · 6 months

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Loki episode 5 reaction and initial thoughts

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! I can’t believe it! I’m so unused to getting what I hope for with Loki in movies and TV that I almost don’t know what to do when you get almost exactly what you’d hoped for!!!!! (Within the bounds of this being the TVA version of Loki of course.) That was excellent! And hit most of the key things I was hoping for as well as giving some absolutely charming additions!

It packed in a lot of story, and it was a delight to see the characters on the timeline. It wasn’t as gripping and tense as the last episode, but that's probably a good thing for my stress levels lol! But it was a really lovely time travel story.

And Loki has unlocked a new ability. Maybe.

The opening music!! Perfectly creepy! And even more so than the music over the credits of the last episode. It really sounded like the disintegration of reality!

And I loved the way the letters disappeared from the Loki title card… *shivers*

It was a small thing, but nice to see at least one thing I’d guessed correct – that they started the episode with the reverse of this shot at the end of episode 4.

I loved how spooky it was having Loki walk through the corridors of the TVA by himself. And I did rather enjoy the moment he almost met himself. That was cute. But it was clear that they needed to get on to other things quite quickly – there was a lot in this episode!!

The imagery of the universe disintegrating was perfectly terrifying! (Although I was getting big “snap” vibes.) And what is Fail Safe Mode? And does it matter?

I was a little sad to see Casey was a prisoner. 😔 But I wonder if we’ll see these timeline versions of the characters again? I feel like the need for them is over? Unless maybe briefly at the start of the last episode. So we didn't have to watch him being particularly horrible.

I didn’t pick that he’d be the first person Loki would visit, nor did I pick that it would all be unintentional.

I did like the way Loki still hoped that Mobius would recognise him. And the conversation itself was ambiguous enough I suppose for the first couple of sentences that you could interpret it that way. Poor Loki looked so disappointed!

I laughed as was intended at the imitation of the inflatable advertising character. 😁

And then OB!!! Omg! I LOVE what they chose to do with his character!!! He was so sweet, and retained his enthusiastic and super intelligent personality! I hadn’t really settled on what I thought OB might have been like on the timeline, but this was so much better! And how he was like “and I had to get a PHD to keep my day job as a theoretical physicist”….! 😄

And @pinkpondofasgard I hope you’ve seen this episode when you see this mention, because spoilers - looks like you were right about this being a location from OB’s past! Which I think is super cool! I don’t have any idea what this would be in the 1990s in the US, but obviously it worked so well for OB that he replicated it in the TVA! Unless this whole series all turns out to be his dream… Ha ha! Ha…. ha…… er… Anyway. I love that so many of the shelves are covered in books instead of technical TVA equipment.

Okay, so now I’m seriously thinking there’s a chance OB might actually be the founder of the TVA. HWR could easily have come along later and taken over the leadership and wiped his memories. But the fact the rooms are sooooo similar is just a bit too weird.

I did like how they handled Loki explaining things to Mobius. Mobius was suitably sceptical and Loki was trying so hard not to sound threatening, but that’s not really his bag, is it. Lol! Things would definitely have gone pear shaped if OB hadn’t turned up.

I feel like Loki’s getting a lot of use out of the phrase “I promise you this will make sense” lol!

While I was kinda looking forward to the multiple crazy conversations while Loki tries to convince people he’s not mad, I do appreciate they had to make this quick, and I liked how they made each interaction shorter than the one before it, until he didn’t even need to say anything after stepping through the time door.

Then there was Sylvie. I was by this point just as surprised as Loki that she kept her memories. Now I have to assume that’s because she wasn’t ever a TVA worker who had her memories wiped. But if that’s the case, then why wasn’t she in the Loom room with Loki when he ‘woke up’? I’m assuming we’re meant to understand that this is because Loki feels most at home in the TVA, rather than Asgard. I find that's a little bit much, personally. But I guess I’ll put that one to the side for the moment.

I did not expect her to be so adamant about not helping. I mean I should have, but I didn’t. Their conversation at the bar was interesting, and I liked that Loki was so concerned that the TVA folk get a choice. (And I kinda think now that they might, come the end of the season. With OB choosing to stay because it’s literally his dream, Casey because it’s better than being an escaped prisoner, and B-15 and Mobius choosing to leave.)

The whole scene in the record shop – that was cool! The small things that went wrong first, and the way the store owner slowly noticed it. *shivers*

Although again, very similar to the snap. I like how small objects vanish first, and I really should have seen that coming when the tempad went missing, but I didn’t. I think there was just so much squashed into this episode!

And this was such a haunting image.

And then Sylvie says “there’s nowhere left to go” before she too disintegrates. Eeeee!

Again, this looked really cool! Are we meant to understand that Loki could hear a moment in the timeline of a person each time he touched a thread? I wonder if that holds for any thread? Or was that just illustrating his memories?

I’m not sure that’s important though, given he almost immediately jumps back to the TVA, but we haven’t seen this image from the mid-season trailer yet. Not one from this angle where Sylvie is still whole, and where Loki is standing confidently and making this specific gesture. I wonder now if he’s just snapped his fingers? Perhaps this moment is revisited, or perhaps just an alternate take that looked cool for the trailer.

I did like the ending, and how he jumped back to them all to tell them he’d figured out how to do it. I wonder if he’ll be able to come back to them under his own steam at a later date?

I’m still not entirely sure if this is something that in integral to Loki now or whether its related to circumstances. Like will it be possible to time-slip after the TVA is restored? If that means going back within the TVA before the moment he started time-slipping in the first place. *shrug*

So, what point did he jump back to? There’s an alarm blaring in the background, but no other identifying things. So I’m guessing this is just as they watch Timely go down the stairs to suit up?

Does he try to stop Timely from going out there? Explain it didn’t work, and then ask OB for information in the last few moment before jumping back further?

And more importantly, after the multiverse is saved, does this mean he can jump to the time and place of any person he cares about? Could he visit his Mum? Or a Thor?!! 🥲

Ah! This was a really great time travel episode! And I'm thoroughly looking forward to the final episode.

Tagging @sparklegemstone @pinkpondofasgard @woodelf68 @scintillatingshortgirl19 @projectprotectloki @ladyofthestayingpower @juliabohemian @galaxythreads @makerofrunevests @thelightofthingshopedfor

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#loki #loki series #loki season 2 #loki review #loki show #loki s2 #loki series speculation #tva #loki s2 ep5 #surely they can't have him die at the end of the series....#right...?#right............?#loki spoilers

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shywhumpauthor · 2 years

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Hi!! I love your writing and I saw that your requests were open and I was wondering if you might consider writing about a Hero that gets drugged and kidnapped by an obsessed Superhero? Maaaaybe Villain has to rescue them?? Only if you want to of course!!

HEHEHEHEH OF COURSE!! This kinda strayed from my original plan but I like how it turned out hehehe

My most sincere apologies to those requests I have yet to answer motivation is weird and idk I just got a big “DING DING DING YOURE GONNA WRITE THIS ONE NOW” feel

Cw: kidnapping, drugging, implied abuse, bombs, destruction, noncon/dubcon touching, manipulation, death mention, bruises, creepy whumper

Hero’s day had been a long and rough one.

Six arrests, two casualties, and fourteen police reports, all spread across a twelve-hour period would be enough to drive even the strongest of heroes to the point of madness

The moment they passed over the threshold to their little apartment, Hero let the last bit of their resolve fall as they yanked off their armored jacket and carelessly tossed it to the floor. They didn’t even wait to hear the door slam shut before they crossed the room and promptly collapsed onto the couch, burying their face in the lumpy pillow with a groan.

Just as they were about to experience the closest thing to “relaxing” as they had all day, a low voice from the kitchen jolted them out of their newfound peace.

“You know, you really should start locking the door,” Superhero chuckled, their heels clicking as they stepped around the small kitchen island.

Hero sighed, their initial panic quickly fading into a bitter annoyance as they buried their face back in the pillow.

“‘m not in the mood for a lecture,” They groaned, squeezing their eyes shut as Superhero’s footsteps neared closer.

“That’s not what I’m here for,” Superhero chuckled, reaching a hand down to ruffle Hero’s hair. “I know you had a long day, I thought I’d make you a nice tea to help you calm down,” They offered, carefully crouching down next to the couch as they stroked their gloved finger’s through the Hero’s knotted hair.

After a moment, Hero peeked up from the pillow. “Really?” They asked, eyes widening slightly as they saw the steaming mug held delicately in Superhero’s hand. “But I ran out weeks ago-”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I bought some for you,” Superhero smiled, playing with Hero’s hair as they slowly sat up. “Your favorite too, chamomile!”

Hero’s cheeks flushed a light shade of pink as they carefully took the cup, nearly melting as they watched the steam drift into the air.

It was still hot.

“Thank you so much,” Hero smiled, the first genuine smile they had had all day—hell, all week.

Superhero smiled back, their hand slowly trailing down to rub Hero’s shoulder, their eyes filled with adoration as Hero raised the mug to their lips.

“It’s the least I could do, sweetheart,” Superhero assured, swiftly shifting from the floor to the couch, sitting next to Hero as they continued to massage their shoulders, working out the knots and stress. “This city doesn’t give you the love you deserve…”

Hero sighed, finishing the drink in four large sips before setting the mug down and fully leaning into Superhero’s touch.

Three months ago, Hero wouldn’t have ever thought they’d be where they were now. They were a rookie, new to the city and unknown amongst the citizens. Then, their only hope had been to not be living off the streets.

Now… they we’re living in their own—albeit small—apartment, in the arms of the one whom they had once barely dared to dream of talking to for fear of getting their hopes up.

Hero sighed, their vision unfocusing as they melted into Superhero’s embrace. They were so warm inside, it felt so good…

Something was wrong.

“Wait-” Hero’s eyes widened and they quickly pulled away from Superhero. Or at least they tried to. All that came out was a muffled sound somewhere along the lines of “mmmrhhhngggg” as they squirmed weakly.

“Shhhh,” Superhero whispered, their arms tightening around Hero as they rested their chin on their head. “Just close your eyes, darling, I’ll take good care of you…”

“Nnn.. nnnhhhmm….” Hero’s eyes unfocused again, drifting shut as they slumped into Superhero’s embrace.

No no nononono-

•••

Something was wrong.

Villain realized as they paced their study, boots clicking against the wooden floors as they walked. Their arms crossed tightly over their chest, fidgeting with their cape as they closely watched the live feed broadcasted across their screen.

Screams and explosions cut through the tension of the room, but Villain didn’t flinch as they squinted through the pixelated image.

“Goddamn it, where are they?!” Villain finally shouted, slamming their fist against their desk.

Henchman startled slightly, looking up from their tablet. “I- I don’t know boss, no one’s seen them since last week..”

Villain growled in frustration, their nails digging into the wood as they leaned forwards. “Detonate the third bomb.” They ordered, eyes locked against the screen. “Lets see if that’ll draw our little friend out of hiding..”

Little did they know, Hero was in fact hiding. But not from them, no, not at all.

Curled into the back of a closet, tucked among old coats and mothballs, Hero sat with a hand pressed tightly over their mouth, tears brimming in their eyes as the fresh bruises around their throat and wrists throbbing painfully.

“Oh Heroooo,” A sing-song voice called as loud, heavy footsteps stomped about outside. “You can’t hide forever, love. I- I’m sorry if I scared you earlier but I just want to talk- really! Just come on out…”

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thomasschabot · 9 months

Text

saw you in a dream

quinn hughes x non-binary!oc (she/they pronouns)

they were simply a figment of quinn’s imagination, until she wasn’t

word count: 3.3k

warnings: vivid dreams, cursing, not soulmates!au but kinda soulmates!au without being weird

a/n: hi @puckmaidens!!! it’s me, your fic exchange partner. really hope you enjoy this little ditty 🤍 original idea didn’t go as planned but i’m crossing my fingers this will suffice. a very large thanks goes out to @wyattjohnston for creating and managing yet another super successful fic exchange AND for letting me borrow daisy for a fun little moment!!! hats off to you dem. @matthewtkachuk gets a big shout out for proofing this love u babe (also as a reminder non-binary people don’t owe anyone androgyny! or anything for that matter. all my little enby babies you’re perfect as is 🥰)

⭑⭒⭑

They were laughing the first time Quinn saw them.

It was the head tilted back, mouth agape kind of laugh, and it was the most beautiful thing the man had ever seen. Quinn couldn’t tell if any sound was coming from the prettily parted lips, but he also didn’t care. Just watching them was good enough, and if given the opportunity he’d do it for the rest of his life. Fate isn’t that kind, however, so Quinn resigns himself to the idea that this perfect person will have to reside in his memory. There was a split moment where kind eyes met his own guarded ones, and Quinn felt the world stop spinning for a millisecond. Every single feeling, look, thought, was heightened when they smiled and raised their glass in a silent toast, prompting him to follow the lead with a tentative look on his face. A split second later they were gone, pulled onto the dancefloor with friends to enjoy the long night ahead. Once sure they weren’t coming back, and didn't want to actually say hello in the way he so desperately wanted, Quinn closed out his tab with a sigh of defeat and exited the club, kicking himself the entire way home for not having any courage.

⭑⭒⭑

An alarm startles Quinn awake. It’s Sunday, supposedly a rare day of rest for the team, but he needs to put some time into the gym and bulk up ten pounds as fast as possible. The Canucks have been playing well enough, but the team is still below five hundred and has a tough second half of the season ahead. Quinn could stand to be more of a physical force to be reckoned with. He’s so focussed on the goals to complete during the day that it takes several moments to realize there had been no mysterious yet beautiful person at a nightclub last night. In fact, there hadn’t been a club at all — just his cold sheets and the same sadness that’s permeated Quinn’s house for years.

The realization knocks all the air from his lungs. Quinn could swear up and down that he had seen them with his own two eyes, and tasted the whisky they’d sipped while maintaining eye contact. It was all such a vivid image that he has a hard time reconciling the knowledge it was all fake with how he woke up feeling. It was real to him. Brock would undoubtedly shake his head and rattle off a few statistics about the probability of meeting those found in one’s dreams, ever the pessimist about love and fate, but luckily he isn’t there as Quinn moves sluggishly about, trying desperately to remember everything about the person with kind eyes and the brightest smile he’s ever encountered.

Quinn doesn’t even get both feet onto the turfed outer surface of the gym before a trainer finds him. “Hughes,” he says, syllables tense and over-punctuated in a way they appear only when ownership gets antsy about poor results. “I need you working today until it feels like you’re about to drop dead.”

“You got it,” Quinn sighs, feeling guilty for contributing to the man’s stress simply because he can’t maintain his weight. Being a franchise player at such a young age, Quinn feels pressure to make things as easy on the staff as possible.

Teammates are scattered about the levels of the facility, each working on their own weaknesses — it’s becoming more apparent to Quinn that no one in the Canucks organization understands the term rest day. Nils is hunched over on the floor doing an intricate warm up stretch routine, clearly in the same boat as him, and it makes Quinn feel a bit better. He doesn’t look up, just raises a hand in silent greeting, and the other man chuckles before pushing back the slight waves he hadn’t bothered to tame in the bathroom mirror and getting to work.

Time flies by at a record pace, and an hour and half later Quinn has put in one of the most intense workouts of his professional career. It seems stupid to leave when so many of his teammates are still working, so he finishes a cool down and wordlessly stands behind Nils to spot. Neither of them acknowledge the favour Quinn is doing him, but it doesn’t matter. Just knowing he’s done something to make someone’s life easier is enough. Despite the intentions of making the work easier, Quinn lags behind, taking a few too many breaks to think about the person from his dream and how much he’d like to kiss them, to cherish them.

Always a fast dresser, he waits until his friend is heading down the stairs from the change room to tug the long discarded backpack over his shoulders and lowers the baseball cap onto his head. Quinn holds the door and emits quiet laughter as Nils recounts a recent failed attempt at romance.

“You were a little spacey today, everything okay?”

It’s not so much a question as it is a prompt to spill his thoughts, and Quinn knows it. Nils Höglander may be a lot of things, including a dear friend, but subtle is not one of them. A breath filters through his nose and fills Quinn’s lungs with air that both calms and accelerates his heart rate. “It’s nothing. Just a dream I’m having a hard time shaking.”

“Was she cute?” This time it’s a leading question, one Nils has a sinking suspicion his friend will answer despite not really wanting to.

“Focus on your own love life first,” Quinn grumbles, picking at a thread on the hem of his sweater. A pause, then, “They were extremely cute.”

Nils quirks his eyebrow. Blushing slightly, Quinn continues. “I don’t know their pronouns, so I don’t want to assume anything. Plus, it’s not like they’re even real.”

“Always the gentleman, Quinner.”

The pair of men separate in the parking lot, walking to their respective vehicles with chants of genuine happiness at seeing each other in less than twenty-four hours. Nils swears up and down he won’t tell anyone else about the fascination with the dream person, but Quinn knows it’s bullshit. His friend has never been good at keeping his mouth shut, and the Canucks are like a tight knit family. Everyone will always know each other’s business.

⭒⭑⭒

They shouldn’t be there.

The last time Quinn saw them, they had been in a dive in Vancouver, but now they’re standing in line at a farmer’s market thirty-five miles outside Pittsburgh. Logically, Quinn understands that it was a dream, that the two of them could be transported anywhere occupying space in his brain, but this place specifically is sacred. It’s his safe space, discovered once on a solo road trip home from Michigan, has never appeared in dreams before, and Quinn wasn’t sure what to do about the intrusion. Their presence wasn’t necessarily unwelcome, just foreign. In fact Quinn was quite sure he’d like the person to be in every dreamscape if it meant he got to experience them over and over again.

A dainty red ribbon held their hair into its makeshift ponytail, but the locks threatened to spill out at any moment. They looked absolutely ethereal, denim overshirt blowing in the wind and legs encased by a pair of practical hiking sandals. Everything about them was easy and carefree — Quinn knew he had to experience the sunshine they cast at least once. A tote bag dangled from their forearm, encasing a plethora of apples that was undoubtedly too many for one person to eat alone. There was no one in line behind them, so without thinking Quinn grabbed the nearest item of produce and made sure to stand at a respectable but still close distance. Their hair smelled faintly of lemon and basil, and it took a godly amount of strength for Quinn to pull away once he caught a whiff. At the very last second the magical human with the red ribbon turned their head and caught the hockey player in the act.

If they had been put off by Quinn’s interest in learning intimately what shampoo combination made the smell, they never mentioned it. “Aren't those the best this time of year?” they asked with a whimsical lilt. Damnit, even their voice felt like it wasn’t made for this world, but a mythical plane above it.

“Uh —” Quinn sputtered, unsure of what he was holding. A glance down proves he’d chosen to buy strawberries, the only fruit he was allergic to. “I wouldn’t know. Just stopping by on the way back home. I was out this way on business.”

“Well then, you picked the right time to visit. Late summer brings the best yield of strawberries, in my unprofessional opinion.” Their smile could have rivaled the sun at high noon, it was that bright and blinding, and Quinn was absolutely enamored. Before he could respond, however, the line lurched forward and the market attendant called the other person forward. “Enjoy them,” they said sincerely, and Quinn offered a thumbs up in response.

With their back to the brunette and preoccupied with a conversation about the weather, Quinn knew he wouldn’t have gotten caught for leaving without the strawberries. Carefully he put them back on the table and walked in the opposite direction. At least this time he had been able to start a conversation.

⭑⭒⭑

The hissing of air brakes jostles Quinn awake, and he opens his eyes to see the back entrance of the arena. Bus rides from hotels to rinks are incredibly short, but somehow the man managed to get a few moments of unconsciousness. Just enough to dream about the mystery person and wake with more questions that will forever go unanswered. Who are they? Why do they keep appearing in his dreams? Does repetition in dreams really mean anything? Quinn will have to remember to send a text to Jack’s girlfriend Daisy, since she knows about those sorts of things.

Teammates shuffle off the bus in front of him, and Quinn quickly follows them, hoping not to seem too out of sorts even though his mind is swimming. Andi, one of the team’s photographers, is standing between the bus and the entrance to the rink, snapping away and making silly faces to make some other guys laugh, knowing that those sorts of candids bring more engagement for the team.

“A-dog,” Quinn chirps, trying to seem chipper. “No pics of me today, please? After work beers on me if you say yes.”

Andi tilts her head in confusion but doesn’t probe. “You got it, boss. I want the best Guiness your expensive contract can buy.”

“Anything for you. I owe you big time. Thanks!”

Quinn quickly embraces the photographer and darts inside the building, knowing that not everyone will be as understanding as Andi. Normally he’s game to play the role of the Canucks’s social media darling, but tonight Quinn has enough to worry about without being followed around and scrutinized.

Each professional hockey player has a different pre-game warmup routine, despite the game being a team sport. He’s always been one to do his own thing, only rarely joining in the games of two-touch, so no one blinks an eye at Quinn heading in the opposite direction of most of the guys. Nils gives him a quizzical look, mischievous glint in his eye, but before he can ask any questions Quinn turns the corner and takes the first flight of stairs he sees.

Before he can think too much about the teasing that will inevitably come from the New Jersey contingent of the Hughes family, Quinn pulls out his phone and sends the text to Daisy.

Not even going to bother to tell you to keep this a secret because you suck! I’ve had an unknown person appear in some dreams lately, and since you’re into all that manifestation shit I thought I’d ask if it means anything. Also, tell Jack and Luke I hope they lose tonight.

The device slips into the pocket of his shorts and settles into a position that hopefully won’t allow it to fall out during his jog around the depths of the arena. Quinn doesn’t like to run with headphones, instead choosing to focus on his breathing. It’s an odd quirk, he knows, but relentless teasing from teammates has never stopped him before. He likes the ritual and knows it will probably continue long after he retires from playing professionally.

Quinn rounds the corner, braces himself for a high sprint, and runs directly into someone instead of meeting a clear hallway. He isn’t the speediest on the team by far, but Quinn is fit enough that even his entry into a sprint could knock over an unsuspecting person, whom this clearly was. They fall to the ground, the momentum of an adult’s body weight and shock making it a hard one. In order to prevent more injury by landing on top of them, Quinn propels himself forward and turns mid-air in a quasi-front flip that he’s sure looked just as stupid as it felt.

“What the fuck, man?”

The voice, even in anger and resentment, is warm and welcoming. Quinn thinks the person has never been cold-hearted, not like him, and it befuddles him until he looks to see who his unsuspecting victim was.

It’s them.

From the dreams.

Standing right in front of him, looking for an explanation as to why they were knocked onto the ground with the ferocity of a barely-legal bodycheck. “Uh, sorry, didn’t see you there,” Quinn sputters, utterly failing to suppress his astonishment.

A dry laugh, verging between a chuckle and a cackle, spills from their lips. “No shit. Help me up?”

Quinn wastes no time extending an arm and hauling them off the floor. He notices a lanyard sporting an official arena badge. ‘Logan Haynes (she/they), Public Relations’ is written in neat serif script, along with a picture of her wearing a bright smile. Trying to not be obvious, he gives her a once over, telling himself it’s just to make sure he isn’t hallucinating but really it’s because Quinn wants to get a better look. He isn’t as sly as he hoped because her voice once again comes into focus.

“Do you have a habit of injuring arena staff and then checking them out, Hughes?” Logan asks, cocking their head just enough to let Quinn know the comment is mostly in jest.

He isn’t surprised they know his name, especially if they work in sports. Still, he stammers an answer nervously. “Actually, no. This is my first time.”

“So you were checking me out?”

“I plead the fifth.”

This time a real laugh tumbles out, a hearty one with warmth of a sun-kissed afternoon and Quinn decides in that moment he will do whatever he can to hear that sound for the rest of his life. Neither of them make a move to go their separate ways, nor do they speak. Time stands still, but not in the awkward way that Quinn is accustomed to. It’s all-consuming, how sanguine the moment feels, how things almost audibly clicked into place when he saw Logan. Never one to believe in fairy-tales or the mushy feelings Jack and Daisy describe, Quinn finally gets it.

“Uh, this is really weird, and I swear I don’t normally do this,” he begins, “But can I get your number?”

Logan smiles, almost devilishly, and Quinn is scared for a moment. “So I can send you the bill for my physical therapy? I think I might have seriously pulled a muscle.”

“Whatever you want.” The grin on Quinn’s cheeks makes them ache but he doesn’t care. He extends his open phone and they enter a sequence of digits Quinn decides to commit to memory. With nothing else to do the pair return to their original paths, and Quinn can only hope they want to see him again.

⭒⭑⭒

The game and subsequent activities pass by in a blur. Quinn was attentive, always on the puck and converting turnovers into scoring opportunities, but Logan was the only thing on his mind. The chances of her being real, of being in the same vicinity as him and getting the chance to meet is too serendipitous even for him. He gets knocked around more than usual due to his wandering mind, leading to some questioning looks from teammates and staff members. As soon as he can, Quinn is looking through the arena to find Logan, let them know he wants more than to pay for potential recovery from the injury that he caused, but he can’t find her.

Dejected, he goes back to the bus. Quinn is a quick undresser and prefers to unwind at home or the hotel, so despite his detour he isn’t the last one on the bus. The win doesn’t matter much to him, too in his own head about Logan to care, so Quinn chooses to decline any and all invitations to celebrate with his teammates. He just wants to have a second shower and debate whether or not to text her.

A gentle buzz comes from the inside of Quinn’s suit jacket, and he pulls out his phone with suspicious speed. The guys around him pay no attention, engrossed in their own phones or suspecting Quinn of hitting up someone on his roster like so many others were doing. He hopes it’s Logan, but then realizes that would be impossible seeing as the exchange was strictly one sided. It’s Daisy, finally answering his message from hours earlier.

Nice to hear from you, Quinny! So glad you only reach out when you want my extra-special opinion on ur love life. Could mean nothing, or could mean you’re bound to meet the mystery person soon. Devs won 6-2, suck it. See you next week!!

Quinn thinks that if Daisy knew the events that transpired tonight she’d call it fate, especially given her text, so in order to keep his brothers from finding out and using the situation as teasing material he doesn’t respond. Instead, he opens the contacts app and scrolls until he finds the number he’s looking for.

Still at the back of the bus, his fingers shake as Quinn types out a message.

Hi. It’s Quinn. Hughes. Ready to pay for all of your up front and continuing medical costs.

He hits send, then continues typing.

I’m extremely sorry for earlier tonight, and just realized I never actually apologized. That wasn’t cool of me. I hope you’re okay.

Before he can overthink it even more, Quinn keeps going.

This is going to sound absolutely ridiculous and insane, but I swear I’ve seen you in a bunch of my dreams lately. Crazy, isn’t it?

Not wanting to sit and wait around for his potential embarrassment at his own hands, Quinn closes his eyes. However, he’s hyper aware of the rectangle in his pocket that feels more like a brick than anything. Sleep does not overcome him, just anxious thoughts, and he thinks he might explode if Logan doesn’t respond. No one will ever know except him, but the crushing weight of rejection and dismissal will sting for a long time. Quinn has never been one to put himself out in public this way, and if it blows up in his face on the first try he isn’t sure he’ll have the confidence to try again.

One single vibration hits right below his breastbone. It takes Quinn a moment to realize it isn’t his rapidly beating heart, but instead his dreaded cell phone. A message appears on the lockscreen under the heading he’s been yearning for. When he opens it, Quinn sees four words that might just change his life forever.

I’ve seen you too.

⭑⭒⭑

enjoy this fic? give it a reblog :) <3

#quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x oc #quinn hughes fic #vancouver canucks imagine #vancouver canucks fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #the summer fic exchange 2k23 #cwrites

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t-0ne25 · 1 year

Text

(6) kitchen storage room

The storage room might be a little obvious but it’s not likely that Minho will make a straight b-line to approach that part of the cottage first. Plus, you’re behind closed doors and possibly able to snack something.

To your surprise, your preferred destination is already occupied, but you decide to scoot in there as well, knowing there’s no turning back now anyway. You haven’t reckoned the face yet due to the lack of light in here but the person stays silent.

Weird. All of your friends would have made a stupid remark in case you joined them in such a cramped room. You hope it’s not Hyunjin, though.

So, you get your phone out from your back pocket and illuminate the little space, finding a shy Jeongin dangerously close to you.

“Hi, Innie.”

How beautiful his nickname sounds when it’s spilling from your lips. When Seungmin told his best friend that his neighbour will be attending the Christmas vacation as well, he was about to cheerfully jump in the air. Jeongin witnessed you from afar once, when you had all attended the Halloween party at Seungmin’s apartment this year.

He had instantly developed a crush at first sight for you, but his hopes and dreams vanished into ashes when he saw a pretty and tall guy guiding you through the living room. At first he thought you’re just friends but when he witnessed you pinned against the wall in Seungmin’s hallway, Jeongin was sure there’s no need to even talk to you.

But you’re not with Hyunjin anymore. Seungmin has already told him a long time ago, right after he heard about it from you.

“What are you thinking about, Innie? Are you okay?”

He clears his throat, trying to play it cool.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine. Nothing. Just hope he doesn’t find us.”

“Hm, me too.”

You don’t know what it is – maybe the cramped room, the dim light, the conversation you shared with him this evening or the tense atmosphere making you think about things you shouldn’t. It has always been one of your sinful dreams after all – being locked inside a room with someone, either a stranger or a friend and Jeongin is kinda something in between.

You pray he doesn’t notice. He’d probably be disgusted by you and never attend the Christmas vacation again.

But what Jeongin says next, begs the thesis to differ, “You’re really pretty.”

What a fucking lame compliment, Jeongin thinks to himself, cursing inside his head.

But for you it’s enough. As weird and cliche as it sounds. It’s your chance to maybe live your forbidden fantasy and get your mind off of all the little problems that have come up throughout the trip.

“Thank you, Innie. You’re really handsome, too.”

Also, the idea of the others finding out – that you’ve gotten closer to the new, shy addition of the friend group lets a tingling sensation shoot down to your core.

God, Y/N, what has gotten into you? Where are all these desires coming from? It makes you feel a bit embarrassed though. Even though there’s nothing to be ashamed about. We’re humans after all.

“Thank you,” the boy finally dares to speak.

“Can I ask you something, Innie?”

He looks down to you, “Sure.”

“At the Halloween party, you wanted to talk to me, right?”

Jeongin feels caught now and his brain is running spirals, wondering what you’re referring to – you’re probably still mad he wanted to talk to you despite you having a boyfriend back then. Possibly, Hyunjin got jealous because he was looking at you. But what surprises him most is that you are pretty much aware of it at all.

“You remember?”

You chuckle, “Of course, you looked both so cute and hot in that fox costume.”

He blushes at the compliment.

“Why didn’t you approach me?” You ask further, playing a little with the laces of his sweater and Jeongin senses his heart will stop beating at any second.

“Y-You we’re with Hyunjin back then.”

You pretend as if you’ve forgotten about that very much important factor. Of course, you know but it doesn’t matter anymore. Not when Jeongin is looking at you like this and you sense that Hyunjin will be forgotten soon, even if it’s just for tonight.

“Right,” you speak. “But I’m not anymore, am I?”

He doesn’t answer.

“Can I ask something else, Innie?”

This time he only nods, apparently having lost the ability to speak.

Your thoughts are running in circles now, too. Minho is probably still looking for you but that’s the last thing on your mind right now. Not when Jeongin’s lips look so kissable.

“Do you wanna make out with me, perhaps? That’s what you wanted to do that night, am I right?”

He shamelessly nods now, gaining back his confidence because of your eagerness.

“In here? Right now?”

“Hm. I mean, only if you’re comfortable with it. We can always do it another time.”

And that’s how you find yourself entangled together with him, your lips hovering over his own, moans being suppressed by your mouths and you hope it’ll take Minho a bit longer to find you. But just when you’re about to slide Jeongin’s pants down, there’s a knock from the outside of the door, indicating that the seeker has caught you.

“Jeongin and I are both in here but–“ you quickly say, unsure how to explain the situation.

“I don’t wanna know, do what you want but keep in mind you’re both losers at this game.”

Yeah, you couldn’t care less about that. Not when Jeongin is groaning so prettily against your neck, as you help him out of his boxers. You start pumping his length, as you simultaneously get rid off your pants, your underwear meeting the floor after.

Jeongin doesn’t waste any second and brings his fingers between your legs.

“You’re so wet for me, hm?”

You’d wonder where his sudden dominant demeanour is coming from if you were capable of thinking. The last piece of logic gets thrown out of the storage room, once he grazes over your wetness, smearing your precum all over your folds.

“Baby, you’re drenched.”

He starts massaging your clit, all while you’re still busy stroking his hardened cock, making your hand look so tiny around his length. At the least when Jeongin pushes two of his fingers inside your throbbing heat, you know you won’t be able to hold back any longer.

His other free hand gets thrown over your mouth, the palm preventing any sinful noises from slipping out. As if not only your bodies but your minds are connected now as well, your movements start synchronising and increasing their pace.

Until neither of you can withstand the sensations any longer and once you cum around his now three fingers inside you, Jeongin spills his seeds all over your thighs. You both stay silent for a while, until you erupt in laughter.

“I’m glad you’re with us this year,” you tell him, placing a small kiss on his cheek.

“Hm, I really should thank Seungmin for the invitation.”

#24 to 25 — 🎄#(6) kitchen storage room — 6️⃣

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gettinshiggywithit · 1 year

Text

!love is a mystery;it is a crime!

pairing:- ranpo x reader x poe

genre:- attempted angst

honestly im not even sure if this good i just came up with it when i was half asleepp..

Edgar Alan Poe,the greatest mystery novelist of all time!

At least anyone would think he was

But to the man himself? He was nothing but an insecure little writer

He’d tried to best his rival,the absolute genius Ranpo Edagawa,since that fateful day during which they’d first crossed paths.

But nothing,absolutely NOTHING ever seemed to work

Not a story with only mass murders and serial killers and not a story that took him SIX YEARS of his life, to write

It was getting frustrating but poe still had a spark that just refused to die within him

Even karl was getting worried with the way his best human friend was over working himself but alas he was just a raccoon.he could neither talk sense into poe nor could he slap ranpo...

But one day,

With one glance

Poe felt that hunger to please,to prove himself,just lighten a bit

That day was the day he saw you

Beautiful as ever.buying some tofu from a shop he frequented

“Quick Karl,how do i look??” He asked his furry friend.to which the ring eyed creature relied with a little prrp

“Okay,im goin to talk to them!”

“Prrrppp”(translation:-YES POE YOUVE GOT THIS!)

He walked up to you and quickly snatched something up on the way,he couldnt just pop up near the counter and talk to you out of nowhere!!! You’d think he was a creeper!!!

Once he was at the counter he just looked at you,heat rising in his face, and said

“That brand of tofu is the best,its quite affordable too,its a mystery how they dont sell out!”

At the sudden introduction if a voice that was seemingly talking to you,you turned around to see the a man with bangs and a raccoon on his shoulder.

You didn’t really think he was weird,you thought the raccoon was kinda cute tbh!

“I know right! Its so good!!”

a moment of silence with the only sound being the sounds of the road outside and the cashier lady ringing up your other purchases,passes and you think to introduce yourself

“Oh im y/n btw!”

“Im- im edgar but my friends call me poe.”

“Ooooh so you’re poe??” You replied.

He was astonished!how did you know his namee?????

Were you an ability user too?? Perhaps a spy from the guild sent to find him??????

“Uh-you- uh,know me?” He asked,his hopes of mustering the courage to ask you out disintegrating before him by the second

“Of course i do! You were in the guild!”

He breathed a sigh of relief

You seemed to be a regular person

“Oh um yes! Im not that active with them now though..” he continued

“Ah...sorry to hear that i guess... would you like to come over to my office by the way?? We’re making a huge feast to celebrate our President’s birthday!

His heart began to skip beats upon BEATS at this

He MUST be dreaming because if he heard it right,YOU just asked HIM to join him for dinner?!?!?!

There was no way in hell that he’d pass up this opportunity!

“Sure! I mean as log as im not a being a bother...”

“Oh no don’t worry we’ll have plenty of food to eat!”

“Oh,is that what the tofu is for??” He asked curiously

You looked down at you hand at that and placed it quickly on the counter

“Nope~thats just for me”

After both you and he had paid and left,you started walking to your office

It was silent for a few seconds while you thought about what to say and then finally,

“Oh is that a raccoon ?? Whats his name??? Can i pet him please????”

This sudden outburst of questions caught him by surprise but he was happy that you were the one to break it

“Oh um yes,yes this is a raccoon,his name is Karl,and i dont think hes mind being petted no.”

“Ooh greatt!!” You said before starting to pet the livin Shit outta him

And funnily enough karl seemed to like it!

Once you arrived at the ada headquarters he was going to ask you if the office you were speaking about was the ada

But as your pace quickened he had to run a little to stay by your side

Once you were outside the door,he had his answer

And after a secret knock was perfomed by you(to make sure They dont accidently let President fukuzawa in and ruin the surprise.)the door opened to reveal the one that he knew as atsushi

You smiled at the boy and gave him a hug before running over to his rival and giving him an even tighter hug and a passionate kiss to add

It was at this moment that poe’s heart shattered

How could he have been so stupid! Of course someone as beautiful and amazing as you would be with ranpo

He cursed himself for falling so hard so obsceenely fast and when you brought ranpo over to introduce him,he plastered on a smile to hide the pain

Of course ranpo didnt notice,and even if he did he didn’t say anything

But You were actually surprised to find that they knew eachother

You babbled on about how you could now be a trio and ranpo asked him how his new novel was coming along

He smiled at your suggestions and the prospect if spending time with you and also let ranpo know about his new book

You then spent the night partying eating and enjoying yourselves(after President fukuzawa came ofcc)

All the while you had no idea that poe was trying to pick up the pieces of his broken heart

Love was a mystery indeed;but in that moment poe knew that it was also a crime

please dont repost my work here as your own on any platform all rights belong to me except that of the characters used,their right belong to their respective owners.but these stories? mine.

feedback,likes,reblogs and comments are so very appreciated tbh :’)i hope you enjoyed and ill catch ya next time!

Comments & Reblogs w/ tags >>>>>>>>>>>likes please

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cuckoo-on-a-string · 2 years

Text

Younger Gods: Chapter VII

Master List Chapter 6

Morpheus x fem!reader

The chaos of younger gods brings old horrors to the Dreaming.

Warnings: suggested PTSD triggers, the most awkward beans alive, Taliesin and Matthew being little shits

A/N: Getting this chapter on the page was like getting the last of the ketchup out of an old glass bottle - holy SHIT. I know the readership for this fic has dropped sharply, but I love each and every one of you (especially when you take the time to comment/reblog <3). Much love as we move towards the final chapter!

Chapter 7: Dangerous Thoughts

“Lucienne.”

She knew his voice, and she opened her eyes to see her lord returned, whole and hale. Alive. She could not remember being so happy to see him, not even after his imprisonment over the past century. While he was gone she had hope, but in the horror of the last hours her fears overtook all sense. Panic stole her reason and informed her the Dreaming had fallen, and she’d known it to be true – because she’d seen it. Heard it. Tasted it.

Her friends had abandoned all they held dear. Her king had perished.

A sob caught in her throat as she seized Lord Morpheus’s proffered hand, and though she’d come back to herself just enough to feel humiliated by her behavior, she hadn’t rediscovered enough pride to stop it. She needed that hand – alive, alive, alive – to anchor her.

“I am sorry, my lord.”

“There is nothing for which you need apologize.” Both of his hands closed over hers, hiding her trembling from the world. His aspect turned dark, and only that grip assured her his wrath had other targets. “You were attacked. Can you tell me what happened?”

“The Dreaming fell. My lord – you were – everyone had deserted the palace, and the gates had fallen.” She rambled, failing to stop for breath until Lord Morpheus set a hand on her shoulder, hushing the lingering panic with his touch, his clear and very real presence.

“How did it begin?”

He looked at her like she’d grown fragile in the hours since they last spoke, and she finally felt enough hurt pride to clear her throat and sit up. When she reached instinctively to straighten her spectacles, she found her face bare. That couldn’t be right. Had they fallen off? Were they broken? What would she do –

Merv – standing at her elbow – cleared his throat. “Got your glasses here, Luce.”

She cleared her own throat, banishing the sticky tears fogging her tongue, and swept the pair up to their right and proper position. The instant they framed her face, she felt better. The world looked correct, and she – and all she cared for – was well.

One deep breath banished the fading screams from her lungs. It brought balance, awareness, focus. A safe, important pattern. She was herself. She was Lord Morpheus’s royal librarian. There was a threat to her library, and she must inform her lord.

“I thought I saw dreamfolk entering the palace after an attack.” She glanced at Mervyn, who’d been in the library when she first heard their guests. “Was that illusion or fact?”

“No one came in that I saw,” the pumpkinhead said. His sounded contrite, apologetic even. “The guardians didn’t see anything, either, but a couple a’ dreams said the sky went weird.”

Morpheus’s frown creased his entire face. “How so? What did they see?”

“More like what the didn’t see, boss.” Merv scratched the back of his orange head. “They said it moved, like they knew they should see somethin’ that wasn’t there. Kinda the way a mirror plays tricks on you. Sorry, like I said, I didn’t actually see anything.”

The King of Dreams sat back in his chair, going cold and still as his fury mounted. The tenderness in his eyes sank below a marble mask as his rage swelled like the tide. The nuisance had become a threat. The trespassers had drawn blood. Lucienne’s cuticles were ringed red, though someone had already bandaged her scalp.

“None of you are at fault.” Morpheus’s eyes flicked to the nearest window, a long slit in the wall offering a splendid view of the green hills and flowering fields rising behind the palace. But the bright sun did not warm his face. “They ride their father’s chariot. Even Aries hopes to see the Dreaming at war, even if it is only with itself.”

Merv grumbled under his breath, fidgeting, expressing all the anxiety his master could not. “What do we do?”

“Watch. Wait. They pile evidence against themselves by the day, and once I have seen them meddle in the affairs of my realm with my own eyes, I will have just cause to retaliate.” The lord of the Dreaming closed his eyes, resigning himself to an unpleasant decision. “The strategy remains. I must let them build their own gallows, though they grow more daring.” Outside, the sky turned dark, and the grey sky growled with the king’s displeasure. “To strike at my librarian within the palace… rest assured, Lucienne, they will be punished.”

He met her eyes as he made the promise, and she wondered if the world would soon be short two gods.

“I have no doubt, lord.”

Never a fan of tension, but still reluctant to leave the room, Mervyn crossed his arms and asked, “Where’s the new kid?”

Morpheus rose from his seat beside Lucienne, offering a final, reassuring touch to her shoulder, and turned away, summoned by all the chaos he must arbitrate, the defenses he must build.

“Matthew is with the bard and his storm god. There have been complications.”

“If I may be of any assistance –” Lucienne rushed to offer.

“You have more than enough work to consume your time.” The king made to leave the room. The burden of his title and crown giving weight to every resounding step. “And I would rather you rest. Recover, Lucienne.”

It wasn’t up for debate. He was learning to listen, yes, but he did not take threats well. He did not take loss well, and this came close. If she hadn’t collapsed, if she’d run into the waves instead, they might’ve never had this conversation. And in addition to all that, she couldn’t help suspecting he’d nearly lost something else. He would not leave Matthew to watch over the storm god in her own home if he wasn’t concerned, and Lord Morpheus rarely showed concern without great reason.

She wanted to ask, but she didn’t.

Once their liege had left earshot, however, Mervyn turned with squinted, hollow eyes. “Think something’s up with that?”

Lucienne tsked, brushing herself down as she swung her legs over the edge of the narrow bed. She would recover best on her feet. In the library. Surrounded by her books with a task or twelve in hand.

“It isn’t our business to ask.” It was never their business when their master lost his perfect control. It wasn’t their business when the stars glowed like proper suns or – later – when the clouds turned noon dark as night. Safer that way. Tidier, at least for his librarian. “If the situation with Matthew’s savior were to impact us in any way, I’m sure our king would tell us.”

“Yeah?” Merv’s eyes narrowed to slits. “How sure?”

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

After her flight from her home, the torturous months without sleep, and everything that happened with Dream while she slept, she found herself becalmed.

She’d been racing towards something – death and freedom sat shoulder to shoulder in her world – and now? Nothing.

The attacks on the Dreaming kept Dream busy in his own realm, and until he and Taliesin found a new approach to her problem, there was nothing to do.

Nothing to do, and nowhere she could run from her troubles.

So, she drifted. Picking up one project, then another, sometimes finishing a new scarf or improving on a potion before she moved on, sometimes leaving shawls half-knitted and cups of tea half-full around the cottage.

She felt adrift, caught in the vast nothingness between goals without a wind to propel her. Although she had a destination in mind, it was still much too far away to see, and nothing could close that distance unless forces outside her control made it so.

She hated it.

At least she wasn’t alone. Matthew stayed, and he got on alarming well with Taliesin. Thick as thieves, those two.

Minutes ago, the raven fluttered to the bard’s head and whispered in his ear. Then they both suddenly had somewhere else to be, and they rushed out the door like something was actually wrong. If it weren’t for the poorly-veiled smirk Taliesin worked too hard to wipe off his face, she might’ve been concerned.

She was still concerned, just for different reasons. Apart, each one was trouble. Together? The world wasn’t ready.

By pairing off, the two also made her a third wheel in her own home. Besides the uncomfortable stirring of unwelcome jealousy – Taliesin was her friend, damn it – their partnership gave her entirely too much time alone to think. And she mulled entirely too much about things she shouldn’t, things she’d never wrestled with before. If Taliesin wasn’t so busy conspiring with Matthew, and if Matthew wasn’t really Dream’s mobile spy cam, she might confide in him. But no. Not when someone might overhear. Especially him.

Sticky little visions and insidious questions spun through her head, and she found herself helpless to stop them as they hooked into interesting places where they could grow and blossom into something painful to ignore.

When she thought of their conversations, her imagination wandered to his pink lips, wondering they were soft, what they might feel like if she dared to brush over them with the tips of her fingers, whether they’d welcome her own lips – which she suddenly realized were NOT soft after all her nervous chewing and went hunting for balm.

Even memories of their early acquaintance took on new shades. He’d been frightening, but beautiful, too. Statuesque, a monument to things beyond desire. He contained worlds. Impossible and untouchable.

And yet.

He sat with her in the rain.

That night when things went so wrong, when she’d been so vulnerable she couldn’t stand her own skin, he showed her tender patience she could never have asked for.

When he might’ve handed the duty to someone else, given her orders, or simply left her to come back on her own, he chose to wait. He lowered himself and showed he was vulnerable, too. The Endless empathized with her suffering because he’d lived through his own, and in the tangle of wind and wet loam, he’d shared it.

There were few understandings so potent as showing each other your scars and discovering they matched.

He accidentally propped open a door that evening, and she stayed vulnerable ever since, against her wishes and better sense.

At least she didn’t dream. She shuddered at the imaginary horror of the Dream King sensing – or even seeing – the warm sparks glowing in new and strange places when she thought of his hands hold up her hair, brushing her neck, carrying her home.

Yeah.

No.

Taliesin was talking about brewing a milder version of the potion she took to avoid Dream in the waking world, and she was more than onboard with the plan. It was a temporary solution until they had time and opportunity to further investigate the curse, but she’d take it.

Dream must never know.

Never ever.

The kettle sang, and she lifted it away from the fire, muttering under her breath as she filled the two waiting mugs. She set it all up to share with Taliesin, and then he’d swanned off with the raven. Ungrateful shit. She could just put the tea bag back, but she was feeling left out and spiteful, so she set it to brew.

If he didn’t come back before it went cold, it could stand like a tepid modern art installation. She’d call it something melodramatic, like Forgotten Conversations or some such shit.

She was two sips into her own drink when a knock came at the door.

Her frustration popped like a bubble, and she sprang up in a swirl of skirt and shawl, mug clutched in one hand to let her friend back inside. Had the silly, over-protective thing tried locking it and forgotten his key?

She was safe here. He should know that by now.

Or maybe he was waiting on the other side with a funny face to try to scare her, or he had his hands full with a basket of blueberries he’d found growing in a swampy patch between the hills. Always a surprise, that man.

She yanked the door open, still trying to decide whether she wanted to chide or tease him more, and froze.

Dream stood there, eying the top of the doorframe, and every inappropriate thought she’d suffered in the past weeks crashed through her psyche at once, leaving no room for speech or movement or manners as his gaze dropped down to hers.

He had gorgeous eyes, even when he was pretending to be more human than he was.

Oh, fuck.

Oh, shit.

Had she even brushed her hair that morning? She’d gotten much too used to Taliesin’s relaxed approach to everything, and she was in full gremlin chic. Fucking hell.

And he was looking at her.

And there was no one else in the house.

Fuck.

What did one do when the object of their quiet fascination arrived unannounced?

“Would you like some tea?”

Yes. Tea was good.

Leaving the door open for him, she hurried back towards the table by the fire where the second mug stood in all its judgmental splendor. Still warm, too. Thank gods.

Having a task made it all better. She didn’t have to guess at what to say, how to behave. They’d officially reached a point in their acquaintance where her urge to be a good host outstripped any screaming anxieties by a mile. She would give him tea no matter what he said, and if he stayed too long, she’d start fussing over dinner, too.

“I was steeping this for Taliesin, but he wandered off with Matthew just a few minutes ago.”

“Thank you, but –”

She shoved the mug into his hands before he could refuse. Shrugging off the baffled eyebrow creeping up his face, she said, “It’ll just go to waste. Might as well warm your hands. If you don’t drink tea.”

He didn’t, she noted, immediately set the cup aside. He arranged his grip just so, long fingers arranging themselves to cradle the cheap porcelain like something that mattered, even if he clearly didn’t understand why. She could imagine him weaving a new dream like that, a small, shapeless thing held close as he spun it beat by beat from the first pulses of a warm heart.

She doubted he’d had much time for new dreams lately.

While he always looked a little gaunt by human standards, the Dream King looked haggard in the firelight, peering into his tea. Shadows hung in pockets under his cheek, ringing his eyes, even curling in little wisps along the fringes of his shadow. The pallor glowed at odds with his feverish eyes, and she wondered how long it had been since he had a chance to stop and breathe.

“You look tired.”

His gaze snapped to her, catching her watching, sending her rushing headlong into an apology before she could even process how the thought escaped her lips in the first place.

“I’m sorry.” She looked down into her brew, genuinely contrite. There were a thousand better ways to ask if she could lend a hand. This wasn’t something she knew how to do. It’d been ages since she developed any kind of relationship outside of her friendship with Taliesin.

And her traitorous tongue wasn’t through humiliating her yet. “Was that rude? I only meant – I mean, I know there’s nothing I can offer someone like you, but – The people you love are hurting. Someone attacked your home. If there’s anything I can do to… help? I’d like to. Help, I mean. I’d like to help.”

Her initial insult had startled the lingering frustration from his eyes, and she barely had time to notice how they warmed by inches throughout her stumbling explanation. He shook his head, nearly smiling through the faint haze of steam wafting from between his palms.

“Thank you.” He gave the words far more gravitas than she deserved, and the weight of his lordly gratitude dragged her low in her seat. “But I believe you’re right; there’s nothing you can do at this time.” Finally, he set the mug on the side table, still full and fairly warm. “I came to check on you. Has the collar caused any more problems in your waking hours?”

Ah, so it was a serious medical consultation. She couldn’t make it a social call even if she tried. At least she’d foisted the tea on him. Briefly. And with this clear purpose maybe she could keep all those dangerous dreams of hers safely locked down.

Setting her own cup aside, she traced the edge of her scarf. The bandages were long gone, but she had plenty of new scars. It was awful – to look at and to feel.

“My neck aches, but it’s healing, and Taliesin hasn’t found any fresh wounds, so… Looks like there’s nothing you can do at this time, either.”

He nodded slowly, a thousand tasks and anxieties rushing behind his glittering eyes.

“Then I will not disturb you.”

“You don’t disturb me.” She said it so fast she nearly yelped it, and he looked at her so sharply, so attentively, it was like he’d never been tired at all. A hint of burning stars flickered in his blue eyes, and she a jolt of fear interrupted the butterflies that had been so merrily swarming her gut. Her secrets weren’t safe at all. If she kept holding his gaze…

She looked down – coward – into her empty hands and wished she hadn’t given up her tea. Now she had nothing to fiddle with, no excuse to fill her mouth with drink and buy herself more time to think of a suitable, reasonable, and not at all embarrassing explanation.

He held the silence. She couldn’t even see if he was breathing, and in the end she had to keep wading across the river she’d so blindly jumped in.

“I’m glad to see you,” she said, oh so carefully as she met his eye, “and I wish there was something I could do. You’re always welcome here, just so you know. If you ever need a quiet moment, my home isn’t grand or inspiring, but it’s a good place to rest.”

This time, she saw when he smiled. Barely more than a smirk, it lifted his eyes as well as his lips, and the butterflies escaped her stomach to swarm her chest.

“Thank you, little storm god.”

A deep breath pulled in all the smells of home. Woodsmoke and drying herbs. Fresh tea and bread baked early in the morning. They told her more than anything that she was safe, no matter how embarrassed, and that confidence gave her a little power.

“I’m serious you know.” She pulled herself up straighter, wanting to be believed, not pitied. “I can’t imagine what it’s like to be what you are, to manage everything you shoulder, but I understand exhaustion. If all I can ever offer you is a quiet place to gather your thoughts, I’m happy to keep the door open.”

Ah – she’d nearly forgotten. She’d talked it over with both Matthew and Taliesin, and they’d enthusiastically agreed with her. Very enthusiastically. They almost made it weird.

“I even –” She wrestled through her pockets, remembering slipping it into one after she added a black ribbon the day before. Heaven help her if it fell out and the couch ate it. But – no – there it was. Cold metal touched her palm, and she triumphantly yanked out a delicate silver key strung on a long ribbon for safekeeping. It twinkled in the firelight, as she held it up for her guest to take. “I made you one, like Taliesin’s, so you can come and go with a little less effort. Consider it an official invitation. You’re always welcome, Dream.”

The Lord of the Dreaming accepted her gift, studying the craftsmanship. When he peered back at her, he looked through his lashes. She was sure he didn’t do it on purpose, but her stomach flipped, and she wondered if she hadn’t set herself up for trouble with this offering.

“An invitation from the master of one realm to another?”

The tension burst again, and she laughed in relief. “I’d hardly call this a realm.”

He tucked the key inside his coat, in some pocket or universe hiding behind the left side of the fabric, around the height of his heart. He finished his task with care before returning all his attention to their conversation.

“And yet, without you, it would cease to be. Perhaps you do not give yourself enough credit.”

She felt the heat bloom over her entire face, and looked desperately for an excuse to busy her hands. “I don’t know about that.”

No excuses presented themselves, and she was trapped in the full power of the Dream Lord’s stare as it wandered from her eyes to her neck. He couldn’t see through the scarf, but she was sure he remembered the damage he’d seen that night in the rain, when he sat beside her on the couch and helped Taliesin stitch her back into a single, functioning piece.

He was invested in her problems, but she wasn’t sure if he cared beyond that. She was careful with her life because she knew Taliesin would grieve if she lost it, and he’d lived so long, he’d lost enough. The Dream Lord was different. Would he be hurt if this went badly? Would he blame himself if he couldn’t fix her?

What, if anything, did he want from her? Did their connection begin and end in the collar?

She swallowed, and he met her eyes again. Something new hid there, but he masked his emotions so well she couldn’t read him. All she had were his words. His actions. Her choices were her own, and she knew her life hung by too fine a thread to let him even imagine he was responsible for them.

“You can’t save me, Dream of the Endless,” she murmured. “I saved myself a long time ago.”

His eyes flicked to the scarf. The barest glance. It spoke volumes. Regret and hope effused the concentrated frown his face fell into when he thought too deeply.

“Not entirely.”

His voice dropped into a rumble, and it nearly distracted her from her goal. But he was the focus of that goal for the moment, and her blooming affection for the Endless brooked no risks she could divert. She’d said she wanted to help, and despite his insistence, this was something she could do. Fresh resolve stiffened her spine.

He had enough burdens at the moment without trying to struggle under her own struggles. His guilt wouldn’t protect her, but it would sap his strength, pull his attention from critical matters of the Dreaming. That would hurt them both in the end.

She heaved a sigh big enough to lift her shoulders.

“I hope I escape the collar someday, but even if there’s no solution, even if I never dream peacefully, I’m content with my life. I might be miserable sometimes, but I learned to live with it before you decided to… what? Rescue me? If I’m content, why can’t you be?”

Dream took one step towards her. There wasn’t much space between them to begin with. Her home was cozy, not large. Celestial fires raged behind the thinnest scrim of blue, evidence of a struggle against passions he wouldn’t share, and his expression shifted like his sand. Determined and stiff, soft and nearly open.

He took another step, and she feared if she breathed too deeply, she’d touch him by accident. He was, by virtue of his nature, intimidating, but it felt like she’d grown a magnet in her chest that begged one of them to close the delicate gap, like it was the most natural thing in the world to plunge headfirst into danger.

Decisions yet to be made fluctuated in the pull of his lips, trembled along his tense jaw. His hands clenched and stretched open at his sides. But none of that was for her, only the starlight that called across endless miles and lifetimes with a song she’d echoed in a bower of saplings under the storm.

When he spoke, his voice was the softest she’d ever heard. It still filled the room, but the fire and the light from the open door dimmed so the shadows could swaddle his words, keep them for her and her alone.

“Maybe I am not content to see you miserable.”

The stars swept her face like searchlights, looking for something, or gathering a sacrifice she gave without knowing. The gap between them no longer mattered. It wasn’t there. Not really. He stood in her space, and she welcomed him, every dream and terror he possessed. She met him with hurricanes and gentlest showers under soft grey skies. They saw. They understood.

A thread stitched them together, the ties still loose, but undeniable.

This was more than pity. It wasn’t guilt or grief or the mere drive to cut out the foreign magic from her dreams.

It… he might –

“We’re back, darling! Why is the door open?”

The moment shattered, and they both turned to see Taliesin and Matthew sweep inside. The bard’s face lit up when he spied their guest, and he hurried to throw his wet coat on the rack as the raven shook himself dry.

“Hello, Lord Morpheus! We had no idea you were coming today.” A touch too excited. A little too loud. Projecting, like he was performing on stage.

Matthew croaked. “Hey, boss.”

Dream’s eyebrows crept up as he stepped back from the warm place in front of her. She mourned the loss, but schooled her features, because Taliesin was in the room, and he’d never let her hear the end of it.

“Did you not?” Dream asked. He addressed Matthew second. “Since all is well here, and you’re struggling to maintain your post, I think it best you return to the Dreaming.” He looked at his raven with the stern eye of a ruler. Or a disappointed parent.

Matthew ducked. “Of course, sir.” He only sounded a little ashamed.

Dream slipped his hands into his pocket as he circled the couch, his wry voice trailing after him like a cloud.

“Thank you again, little storm god, for the tea.”

He strode through the open door, into a misting rain, down the path, and through the gate with Matthew flying over his shoulder. The sand consumed him as he climbed the first hill, and both entities of the Dreaming were gone.

It took Taliesin less than a second afterward to pull her back, push her down in a chair, and set the kettle to boil again. He didn’t stop to refill it, and he didn’t give her time to warn him. With a clap of his hands, he squatted to her level and pinned her with a wild, delighted glare.

“Spill. I want to know everything. Right now. Spill the tea. Please. Or I may cry and it will be all your fault.”

She puffed out her cheeks, gripping the arms of the chair against his onslaught.

She didn’t know what to tell him. She didn’t really want to tell him anything. After all, it wasn’t like he knew her feelings, the little whispers of fantasy and possibility that plagued her, and he’d missed the rest of the show because he preferred the bird’s company.

Fine then. That’s what she’d say. Nothing.

“I think,” she said slowly, leaning into his desperately curious gaze, “that you’d better not burn my kettle, bard.”

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

A month. Two.

But when the moment came, no one had to bring a report.

Dream knew.

Before the screams and the creeping shadow, he felt the two intruders descending over his palace. Their call to panic pricked over his skin like needles, pressing on his equilibrium with the unspoken demand that it crack, that he let his unrestrained essence flood his realm, drown it with every dread collected over eons of existence. But their flimsy hooks couldn’t pierce deep enough to draw more than his ire. They didn’t touch his mind or strike his heart. It would take power beyond their fantasies to lance his bones and make him scream.

He tipped his head back, closed his eyes, and breathed in the rising stink of fear as his people’s terror curdled the light of his throne room. It was a terrible thing, but beneath his frustration and pain for his dreamfolk, an ember of satisfaction smoldered.

At last.

He rose from his throne, descending the twisting steps with dark intent.

Already, he could feel their suggestions, their subtle magic twining close, seeking open wounds and half-forgotten agonies. But he was King of Nightmares, and he’d long since tired of their games. He’d send Ares’ children crying back to their father. The Dreaming was no chessboard, no gaming green or bright field for challenges of skill, and they would regret mistaking it for such.

They would bleed for Lucienne’s tears and for every whimper they inspired from one of his creations.

Time to end this. And then to rest with the rain on the window and –

He quickly banished the thread of longing.

The little storm god had been right; he was tired. Remaining on guard over so many weeks, with so many of his creations in need of care and restoration wearied him. He had no doubt the invaders planned it that way. But they had grossly underestimated their opponent.

He must focus.

Stepping outside, he found the sky as Mervyn had described. A warped reflection of the clouds hung over the palace’s spires, and all the dreamfolk fled from it, all but the gatekeepers. Even as panic crackled into madness, they could not leave their posts. The Griffin tore at his own feathers, shrieking against something he imagined under his flesh. The hippogriff screamed and bucked, striking at imagined enemies with its hooves, and the wyvern mistook its master for an intruder. Dream pushed the snapping jaws aside, incandescent with rage.

They would not trick him into harming his own. He’d repay every broken wing, bruised face, and quiet limp the refugees had brought to his attention on Phobos’ hide. He’d gift Deimos with the cost of shattered hands and mangled bellies carried to his palace by weeping friends who blamed themselves for the horrors inflicted.

Beyond the gates, he saw baskets upended, a few dreams who’d fallen or stood in the way of giants pulling themselves to illusory safety behind trees and carts and houses. The gates stood fast, keeping the desperate crowd locked away from the greater danger of the seas beyond.

Matthew, shuddering but still sane, alighted on his shoulder.

“What now, boss?” The raven twitched, dodging something only he could see, and Dream ran a hand down his familiar’s back – from the crown of his head, between his wings, to the base of his tail. His loyal friend, determined to do his duty even in the face of his greatest fears. Matthew cawed, shuddering under the second pass of his master’s fingers, and Dream glowered at the ___ in the sky.

“Now, I give them reason to regret ever setting foot in my realm.”

But he would not risk his raven. Not again.

“I need you to stay here. Guard those who’ve lost themselves, and inform Lucienne that I have left for battle when you find her.”

Perhaps he said it too carefully, too gently. Matthew shook himself so every feather stood on end. “You shouldn’t go alone.”

“I will not leave the Dreaming for this fight.” He pet the tuft of feathers at the top of Matthew’s beak, assuring them both that the raven stood there in one piece, unbroken and breathing. “Do not fear, Matthew.”

A tall order, but the bird rallied to meet it. Dream’s request cut through the phantoms, sharp with purpose. Matthew scoffed, fluttering down from Dream’s shoulder only to stare up with every bit of force and determination a raven could contain. “Be careful, okay? Lucienne will turn me into a feather duster if anything happens to you on my watch.”

Dream did not smile, but Matthew’s faith swelled within him, a boon to arm him against the greatest terrors – which he would face alone.

“My brave raven.” Once again, he must order him to stay. Once again, everything that made Matthew a good and reliable aid also complicated Dream’s plan. He buried his affection deep, letting the cold authority of his office shade his next command: “Do not follow me.”

Matthew croaked, lifting his wings to emphasize an impending retort, but Dream didn’t wait for disobedience. He donned his helm, lifted a handful of sand, and left his subject cawing at thin air.

He saw the chariot, a shivering blight in the blue sky, eating up the sunlight with its invisible shadow. More realm than transport, it could house an army. Or a single room. Whatever a visiting mind feared, the space held. Once Deimos and Phobos knew a victim’s weakness, it became their world.

He moved into the stolen space over his palace where Aries’ chariot hovered. It came to his kingdom without invitation, and therefore he needed none to enter.

As his sand bore him across the short distance, he wondered what horrors the invaders might summon to save themselves. When the shimmering grains fell away, however, only darkness greeted him, a consuming silence echoing itself into infinity.

Terrifying for a mortal, perhaps, but he didn’t even need light to see within the bounds of the Dreaming. He, like the night sky, was as much depthless shadow as starlight.

Such a meager effort to unbalance their opponent. He must teach these younger gods the meaning of panic and fear.

Smirking, he strode into the emptiness, searching for the brothers who surely recognized their error now that he stood in their haven.

What had the King of Nightmares to dread?

He paced deeper into the hollow realm, empty hands closing into fists as he summoned to mind all the harm the feckless immortals brought to those in his care – to dreams and dreamers alike. This ended here. Now. They may delay their fate by minutes or hours with their games of hide and seek, but retribution came for them with the inevitable draw of the cosmic tide. The eyes of his helm glowed, and the dead air warmed in lurid shades of red.

“You cannot hide from me.” He watched simple shapes appear as from a black fog. Walls and ceilings manifested from the floor upon which he stood. Doors grew along them and empty arches promised new spaces beyond. “I am the Dreaming, and you intrude in my realm.”

He sensed them – waiting below. He must go to them. They would not be called.

One door, firmer and brighter than the rest, creaked open, inviting him down a flight of stairs. It had the grandiose showmanship of an obvious trap, but Morpheus had no fear of any surprise the two may spring, and he stepped through, pulsing with malicious intent.

He wouldn’t deny the fools his attention when they courted it so eagerly.

The steps led deep, past logic and into something more akin to nightmare than reality. Dreamers sometimes encountered stairs like these – an endless descent they followed in desperation and confusion. The ultimate liminal space they raced through en route to a destination they’d never reach.

At first, he didn’t notice his footfalls growing heavier. The echo and shock of his feet against stone crept over him like the daybreak, a rising and unwelcome awareness. More of his anthropomorphic body burdened his hunt than he’d intended, and he felt his power drawing in, wrapping close. It left him feeling strangely small as he lowered himself a step, a step, a step at a time. Though he could see far more than he had at the top of the stairs, some senses dimmed, went blind, and his waking sense of caution whispered in alarm.

But he continued.

He had faced far worse than this mild discomfort – his people had – and these invaders must be stopped.

Deeper still he trod, and then deeper again.

Cold, musty air enveloped him. He tasted the stale rot of forgotten centuries and smelled a blend of old candle wax and lingering mildew. Artificial light in a place that never escaped the damp.

A basement.

He hesitated. Only for a moment, but long enough. The waiting claws of Deimos’ and Phobos’ power pierced his defenses, hooking deep in his marrow with a surge of anxiety beyond fear. His corporeal body’s heart stuttered, and he fell to a knee as the stairs folded up into a familiar room. The walls feel back into endless pillars, studded with lights too dim to combat the shadows beyond the golden circle.

Collapsing, he felt his power drain away as the shackles of ancient magic bound him once again in his weakest state. A prisoner. Physical anguish warred with his distress, and he groaned, reached for the edge of the circle with a shaking hand.

A sandaled foot pinned his fingers to the stone, almost gently, and Dream looked up through the eyes of his helm to find Deimos and Phobos towering with sated grins. Deimos – easy to mistake for a human youth – crouched down, following the bidding of Dream’s fears. As his brother – Phobos, identical to his brother apart from his leonine head – kept their hostage from breaking through his terror, Deimos plucked his bag of sand out of his grip, tore away his cloak, and seized the helm with the same awkward malice Roderick Burgess employed.

He had no ruby to lose, but Deimos stole everything he had including…

Deimos lifted the key to the storm god’s cottage, examining it in the harsh white electric lights the younger Burgess installed many years after he failed to keep his promise. “What does this open, I wonder?”

A knot seized Dream’s stomach, and he curled in on himself, gasping against the wave of piercing terror conjured by the mere idea of the brothers using that key, slipping into the storm god’s home and taking her apart through the horrors of her past. As he once had. But worse. Without escape. Without a hand to pull her back out of the nightmare. It would destroy her.

He groaned, and the sound reverberated.

Flinching upright, he reached for the edge of the circle, frantic, only to crash against glass. The lights danced in his eyes, mockingly bright when the rest of the world was so dark.

They’d put him back in the glass cage. Or his fears had. It didn’t matter. Now as then, he was powerless. And this time his captors knew their work, had access to realm, and would not need any gift from him to achieve their aims.

It was everything he feared, the worst thing he could imagine.

Deimos moaned, pressing his hand flat to his belly as his eyes rolled back in his head. “The fear of an Endless truly is a potent thing. Bless the fool mortals who taught you such dread.”

Phobos rumbled, his lion’s voice filled with impressions and sensation rather than words. It rang in Dream’s ears like a chant.

Here in the darkness. Here in the darkness. Here in the darkness.

It wasn’t true. It wasn’t real. But he felt the cold, curved floor sapping heat from his bent legs, smelled the cheap coffee the guards used to wash down their damned pills. More solid than any nightmare. And he did not dream.

Sighing, like he’d finished a grand meal or enjoyed an orgasm, Deimos said, “Facts don’t change fears.” He looked around the room, eating it all with his gaze. Gloating. Sated. For the moment. “You are the Dreaming, but it’s taken so long to taste your fears, Lord Morpheus. Your creations only held whispers, full of their own worries and visions of darker days. But those tastes sustained us. Strengthened us. And they told us much in the end.”

They told his absence, of the slow rebuilding. Some of his own hopes and fears always went into his work, and his new creations sang of freedom, whispered of imprisonment.

He closed his eyes, trying to think, trying to call for help – from Lucienne, Matthew, Death, anyone. It would not, could not happen again. The Dreaming would not survive it. He would not survive it.

Phobos took the bundle of clothes and tools from his brother, rumbling the worst promises with the voices of the dead as he retreated from the illuminated circle.

Here in the darkness. Here in the darkness. Here in the darkness.

#morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x reader #morpheus x oc

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