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c1b3rly · 3 months

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Hi! I saw that you are taking requests? Could you do Lucifer x reader? Where reader and him is already dating but reader is insecure, wondering what would happen between them if Lilith comes back. Would he leave the reader?

I don’t know the rules with your requests so if I broke any rules in this request, I deeply apologise and please ignore this request if so! Have a lovely day/evening/night!

━ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 -> 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐃

lucifer morningstar x gn! insecure! reader

summary; thoughts and worries where everywhere around you, curious and scared about what would happen if your beloved partner would leave you again for his actual first wife, but your partner knows you better then that.

cw; some insecurities to past relationship, little mentally unstable topics (ex. overthinking, anxiety), comfort, fluff. no proofread!

It was no secret that you had some ups and downs with the relationship you have with lucifer.

You where contantly wondering what would happen if lilith, lucifer's ex-wife, the woman he was banished with into hell, would return back and would try to get back with him.

It terrified you actually, you knew lucifer for so long and you are so happy about this lovely relationship you two have, if this would happen you don't know where to be tbh..

And with all those thoughts living in your head, you didn't noticed that your distants was getting obvious by your lover.

Lucifer knew from the beginning you where insecure about yourself, you douded a lot about you, especially after seeing the pictures of lilith smiling so warmthly and looking majestic as ever.

He tried many times to convince you otherwise, that he appreciates you so much and loves every inch of you but unfortunately sometimes you took it as pity, because the moments he told you this you where again looking over old pictures of the morningstar family

you knew it was bad to do this, but lucifer allowed you which is why you where contantly on those books..

And now, you where again thinking about many scenarios on how lucifer would drop you off for his ex-wife, you sat on the edge of your shared bed with your legs close to your chest and with your head inbetween them as you tried to collect your breathing from all the tears you let fell down your cheeks.

"stupid.. why am i always crying about this bullshit?" you asked yourself sniffing, you where glad that lucifer shouldn't be near the bedroom, otherwise he would've heard your silent complains you where doing since almost 10 minutes.

Or so you thought, lucifer was actually on his way to check on you because you haven't shown yourself since a good amount of time and he was starting to get worried, and before he could even knock on the door, he stopped at his track when he heard you sobbing in there.

Lucifer wasn't dumb thats for sure, he knew about what you where crying about again and the pain in his heart was aching to just burst into the room and take you into his arms, but he decided to take it easy with you.

Without knocking, lucifer carefully opened the door to see your frame hugged together into a ball sniffing your poor eyes out, he gently closed the door and made his way towards you.

"sweetheart?" he gently called out, you shook your head towards his voice to see him standing there with a sad form in his face which made you immediatly burry your face back into your knees.

"what?" you asked quietly, your voice shaking and muffled from hiding it, lucifer moved closer to you until he's in front of you on one knee as he gently took your face into his hands, making you look at him with red eyes from crying.

Lucifer couldn't help but give you one of his heart-warming smiles that you loved so much.

"my poor duckling, when do you see yourself the way i do?" he asked, wipping your tears away from your cheek with his thumb. you didn't said a word, just moved your eyes to the floor in quilt.

"baby.. i know you hate talking about this, but believe me when i'm saying this, you mean the entire world to me. i know you think that i would want to leave you but imma be honest, i couldn't live without you, you're my heart, the reason why i wanna wake up everyday and i'm so thankful for having you with me."

Lucifer said, his smile growing with each word as he placed one of your shaking hands on his chest where his heart lays and pulls you close to him until you were embrassed by him.

You closed your eyes and allowed to just feel luci's heart beating against your head, you tried letting your feelings be freely as you slowly began to feel like home again.

"i'm sorry for my constant fear of losing you" you mumbled and luci only hugged you tighter, kissing the top of your head and leaned his own one of top of your gently.

"you have nothing to apologize for my love, we'll get through this together, and i will be by your side through everything"

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #𓅰 - c1b3rly

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winchester-girl67 · 4 months

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Imagine... Dean Coming To You For Comfort

Summary: Dean looks for comfort after a nightmare. He enjoys being the little spoon.

Requested by anonymous: “could you write a fic where dean just needs some comfort from the reader? it could be platonic and dean just had a bad day or a nightmare and doesn't want to be alone and wants to be held without asking"

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 902

Warnings: language, nightmares, implied violence (hunting a vamp nest), brief mention of a gun reader keeps under the pillow, a little angst, emotional hurt/comfort, cuddling, fluff

A/N: Found this in my wips, it's a little short but sweet. Enjoy.

_____

“I said, I'm fucking fine, okay?!”

Dean's words echoed in your ears. You'd only asked him the once and he just snapped at you, so when you got back to the bunker you beelined for your room and slammed the door.

You didn't get food, you didn't shower off the motel shower from a few hours earlier like you usually would, and you didn't get any sleep either. ‘Monopoly’ speaking, you did not pass 'GO'. You just pouted in your bed.

The hunt could've gone better; it also could've gone worse.

You stared at the ceiling, still awake and wondering how to reproach Dean. He was clearly not fine but until he was able to admit that, there was no getting through to him. Dean was just too stubborn when he was in these moods and honestly you were a little, too. You wanted to help, but you didn't want to swallow your pride and walk down that hall just to have him yell at you again.

You weren't a masochist. But you still laid there, in bed, overthinking everything that went wrong with the hunt.

First of all, you should've brought Sam with you, or Cas. Dean said it would be simple enough though with the two of you. It wasn't and you almost got killed. Dean, of course, wasn't letting himself forget it. You could see that written all over his face on the ride home.

Stopping your mind from racing wasn't easy. You counted the dots on the ceiling tiles as you listened to the ticking of Dean's wristwatch on your arm. He'd synchronized it to the time on his cell and given it to you before the hunt so you could stay structured in your plan against the vamp nest.

It was smart, until it wasn't. There were more than you expected and you always jumped the gun and went in first. Standing still wasn't the easiest thing for you to do with all that adrenaline pumping in your veins. And you were used to hunting alone. Before the Winchesters came into the picture.

Needless to say, everything that went wrong after that was about ninety-percent your fault. The other ten was simply a miscalculation.

You'd known the Winchesters for quite some time but moving into the bunker with them was fairly new. In the back of your mind, you hoped Dean wouldn't ask you to move out. You kinda liked not being completely alone anymore. The world was tough and they felt like family already. It would break your heart for sure; shatter any trust you had left.

Your bedroom door creaked open slowly on its old hinges and a shadowed figure peaked its head inside your room. You held your breath for a moment and gripped the cool handle of your gun underneath your pillow.

Always on guard. Even if the bunker was the safest place you'd ever been.

"Easy, Y/N, it's just me." Dean said, pushing the door open the rest of the way so the light of the hall revealed his features.

His expression was soft, too soft -broken like a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders and the nightmares to prove it. His hair was disheveled and he rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands.

"Just wanted to check on you, I'll let you get back to sleep. Sorry I woke you, sweetheart." Dean breathed deep and slowly started to shut your door. "And sorry I yelled."

"Wait," you sat up and placed the gun on the night table next to you before switching the light on low. "Come here. Close the door."

You flipped back the covers, shuffled over to make room and patted the mattress beside you. Dean wiped the frown from his face with his hand and did as you said. He shut the door and settled into bed next to you. Tense and unmoving once he rolled onto his side facing away from you.

He couldn't ask, but he didn't need to.

You clicked off the light and tugged up the covers to his chin. Your palm rubbed over his shoulders and half-way down his back, then circled up again until you felt his muscles begin to relax.

"That feels nice," he breathed and sniffled a little.

You continued your motions for a while longer until his breathing evened out, you could tell he was still awake but knew he didn't intend on talking things out. That wasn't Dean. So instead, you rubbed up and down his arm and molded your chest into his back, settling into your position as big spoon. You squeezed him and held his hand against his chest.

"Thank you," he sighed and weaved his fingers through yours.

Dean didn't talk about feelings if he didn't have to. And for someone so 'tough', more often than not, he liked to be the little spoon. Especially to your big spoon.

There was an unspoken understanding that neither of you were ever to bring it up in the light of day. But things were just different at night and being vulnerable and open didn't feel as achy and oozy.

Feelings were allowed to be felt in the dark.

He'd be gone before you woke, starting breakfast and roasting coffee in the kitchen, but for now your pieces could hold his pieces together.

And maybe you could both finally get some sleep.

_________________________ Dean: @akshi8278 @laycblack @thoughts-and-funnies @mrsjenniferwinchester @crustycheeks @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @lyarr24 @suckitands33 @eliwinchester99 @yvonneeeee @igotmajordaddyissues @djs8891 @leigh70 @globetrotter28 @backseat-of-deans-67chevy

SPN: @hobby27

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prettiestgrlinthemorguexo · 3 months

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Swipe (Lucifer Morningstar x reader) Preview

This is a preview of my WIP fanfic for Lucifer, it’s a three parter and this is a small about of part 1, since it’s still a WIP it’s not yet proof read :) Description: after his divorce, he finally gets back into the dating game…through a dating app :)

Please note I’m writing this before the release of ep7 and ep8 so-

Takes place between ep 5 and right before ep 6

I wrote nearly 98% of this at like 3 AM-

Warning: Lucifer being a dork, Lucifer being a dorky dad, age gap(reader died at like 25 and Lucifer is like a good few thousands years old so), talk of divorce, Charlie being a supportive daughter, I’ve never used a dating apps so i might get info wrong, Lucifer doesn’t know modern day technology or slang, lying

⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧ ⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧ ⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧

Lucifer’s POV

“Charlie, are you sure about this?” I ask still hesitant, I knew Charlie just wanted to help and had the best intentions, but a dating app? “Of course!” Charlie exclaimed, face lite up. “It’s perfect! You get to meet people without the face to face interactions!” Charlie said downloading the app, viva by Voxtech.

Charlie’s was more excited than I was, I wanted to meet people but an app? I can’t help but feel my heart race and my body get heavy, why was I this nervous. In the middle of my overthinking Charlie handed me the phone, it had a profile made it had my name and many details. It felt like I was giving it to all 9 rings of hell! “Ok! How we gotta add some photos an-“

“Charlie!”

We both turned are head to see Alastor and Vaggie standing there. “Can you help with something real quick?” Vaggie ask seeming annoyed. “Of course!” Charlie’s called back before as standing up. “You go ahead and add those photos dad I’ll be back!” Charlie said as she ran to the two, leaving me alone on the couch staring at the screen.

I read over the info and it all was so…personal. How would anyone be comfortable putting this much out? I Don’t get me started with being the King of Hell it’s self, then an idea popped in my head. I turn my head slightly to see Charlie still talking to the pair so I decided to take matters into my own hands. I added photos of my duck inventions and made a duck with a white top hat as my ‘icon’. Now onto the name, Lucifer was too out there everyone would know, think! L names that are similar.

Lucifer..

Luci…

Luc…

Luca..

Luca! I instantly think changing the name quickly, removing the last name from the profile along with it. After that it looked like a normal profile. When I finished and satisfied with it Charlie was walking back over. “Sorry bout that dad! Now back to w-.” While she was speaking I shove my phone in my pocket and stand up. “No it’s fine! I set it up!” I nearly screamed it out as I stood from the couch. Charlie stared at me shock for a moment before her normal bright smile returned to her face. “Wow that’s great!” She said as she walked over “Look at you getting the hang of technology!” Charlie said happily. I didn’t know why I was so nervous by an app, but it was on my mind. After finishing talking to Charlie I was able to leave, soon I was back in my bedroom. I let out a sigh and feel onto the massive bed and pulled out my phone, Viva still open.

Y/N POV

Left..Left..Left..

God this app was a never ending app of swiping left on people wanting hook-ups was tiring. This was the last time I’d take F/N advice and use a dating app, the fact they exist in hell was already surprising. It was nude after nude of people looking for a hookup. Then something different popped up, instead of the naked body I almost have gotten used to, I was greeted by a rubber duck with a white top hat. My eyes widen a bit as I layed there I swipped to look at the second photo, more ducks. I then moved and read the bio. “Luca..” I said quietly to myself reading the short info. I looked at the photos and the bio, it stood out in the sea of profile, i stair a while longer…

…Right.

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

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months

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Life in the City 2

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bad friends, creep behaviour, abuse of power dynamics, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You move to the big city and find yourself swallowed up by its chaos.

Characters: Clark Kent, Thor Odinson, short!reader

Note: A brief reprieve from the snakish prince.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you. No tag list, do not ask for updates.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You nurse your glass of wine. You're not much of a drinker, you mostly brought it for Melanie. Despite her agitation, she seems to be enjoying it. She snuggles up to Clark as you sit awkwardly at the other end of the couch.

You really shouldn't be here. The longer you sit in silence and pretend to care about the movie, the more you think of leaving. You definitely crashed their party and they're not being very subtle.

You reach for a handful of popcorn to busy yourself. The crunch blocks out Melanie's shameless whispers. She doesn't get much back but she doesn't give up. You can't find an exit plan that isn't completely obvious.

Finally, she quiets down upon getting a grunt from Clark. She nestles against him and rests her head on his shoulder as he drapes an arm over her. You can't help the pang of loneliness. You're not jealous, it's just been a while since you had someone to snuggle aside from your stuffed hippo.

You sit back as you swallow down the last of the kernels with a swig of wine. You put the wine glass on the glass coaster Melanie kept reminding you of. As the evening sets in, the room is only lit with the glow of the television. The haze of colours and alcohol itches on your eyelids.

You yawn and plant your elbow on the armrest, leaning into it as you tilt your head. Your lashes close, only for a moment before you twitch. You feel a tickle on your hip. You lift your head slightly and peer down from the corner of your vision.

Is he... touching you? Maybe it's a mistake or he doesn't realise he's doing it. You freeze, mortified. You should clear your throat or move or something...

You can't. His fingertips brush down your thigh and back up it, lingering just along the curve of your ass. You reach for your wine and he rescinds his hand, curling his arm around Melanie as she gives a delighted moan.

What was that? You're overthinking this. He probably thought it was her. Somehow. You're not sure. He's a nice guy, a stranger still, he wouldn't just touch you.

You drain the last of your wine and stand up, "just gonna pop into the bathroom."

"Whatever," Melanie dismisses as she rubs Clark's chest.

You don't look at him but you swear you can feel his gaze on you. You circle around the back of the couch and find your way to the bathroom. You close yourself in and shake the jitters from your nerves.

You're tired and you don't know if it even happened. You've been drinking and maybe just maybe you're a little tipsy. Well, at least the movie is almost done. You can try to catch the last bus or turn in for the night if Melanie lets you have the couch.

You get yourself together and go back out. As you near the couch, Melanie and Clark quickly part, their sloppy kiss ending in a pop. You try not to give away your discomfort and resume your seat, pressing yourself against the armrest as small as you can.

"I'm getting tired, sweetie," Melanie whines.

"The movie's not done," his voice is rocky and low.

"I've seen it," she pouts.

"Well, I haven't. If you want to lay down, I'll be in when it's over," he says coolly but not unkindly.

"You can finish it tomorrow," she simpers.

"Hon, you got a friend here," he reminds her, "don't be rude."

He looks at you and sends you a smile you barely glimpse as you shy away.

"I never even invited her," she hisses under her breath.

"Go to bed, Mel," he retorts, his timbre steady, "you've had too much wine."

"I haven't had enough," she snarls.

"Honey," he softens his tone, "remember what we talked about."

She's quiet as she stares at him. You can only see the back of her head. She sniffs and leans in to kiss his cheek, "sure, sweetie, I'll be in bed..." she stands, tickling his jawline, "waiting for you.”

You give a sheepish ‘good night’ but she doesn't answer, or even look your way. You dip your chin down, embarrassed by her indifference and turn your focus back to the television. Well, not much longer and you can hide in the dark and wait for morning.

Clark bends forward to take the bowl of popcorn off the table. He sits back and offers you some as he sidles a bit closer. You shake your hand and murmur, “no thanks.” All the salt and butter is already curdling in your tummy.

He shoves a few kernels in his mouth and chews as he watches the screen. You don't enjoy it as much now. Your nostalgia sears away as the tension rises between you and him. The kiss that should be a resolution is suddenly awkward and cringe worthy.

“So,” he swallows, “how long have you known Melanie?”

His voice is like thunder in the lull. You rub your arm, his shadow lurking at the edge of your eye line as you keep your head straight. You clear your throat, “for a while… since high school.”

“Oh, wow, she never mentioned you,” he says, “what's that like ten years or something.”

“About that,” you answer.

“I mean, don't know why it wouldn't have come up. A friend who brings snacks? That's the best kind,” he puts the popcorn down and grabs one of the coloured napkins to wipe his fingertips.

“Um, I stayed… back in our hometown. Went to school in the next city but lived at home so… just moved here to see what it's really like,” you shrug.

“Oh, just got here? How are you liking it?”

“It's… blurry,” you chuckle nervously. Didn't he want to see the end? He's talking over the whole thing.

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” he stretches his arm across the back of the couch as he reclines. He sets his knees wide as his hand rests just behind your head. “I grew up on a farm. When I got here, I was so lost.”

“A farm?”

“Oh, yeah, big wake up call, but there's not much fodder for journalism in a field,” he snorts.

“Right, you're a journalist?”

“Sure am, with The Daily Planet. Little magazine you may have heard of.”

You blanch and nearly slap yourself, “Daily Planet? Clark… Kent?”

“Ha, so you've heard of me.”

“Yeah, uh, I…” you pause. He's older than you expected but you're not surprised. Melanie always had a type. “I wrote a review of your work in my undergrad.”

“You did?” He sounds amused as he leans a bit closer.

“Sure, well, we had to choose a contemporary writer…”

“I'm flattered. You did journalism?”

“Not exactly, it was just one class,” you wilt into the armrest.

“So what do you do?”

“Well, not what I studied,” you sigh, “I work a desk job. Data analysis.”

“Riveting stuff,” he kids and nudges you playfully when you don't laugh. “You know, Mel never mentioned she grew up in a small town. She always just seemed like she was from around here.”

“Uh, yeah, well, she hated the place so…” you scratch your chin as the hest crawls up your face. “How long have you and her, er, been dating?”

“Well, three months officially. Before were were just ‘having fun’,”he brings his hands up to curl his fingers in quotation, “that's what she called it anyway.”

“Oh, well uh, she seems to really like you,” you utter dumbly.

“Yeah, I think so,” his smirk is laced in his tone.

The room goes completely quiet and suddenly the drum track begins. You watch the credits roll as Clark faces the television. He laughs, “oops, guess I wasn't paying attention.”

He drags his arm from the back of the couch as he stands, his hand grazing your shoulder. He stretches and you notice the hem of his shirt lift, a peek of his muscled stomach above the elastic of his sweatpants. You quickly dart your eyes in the other direction.

“I should… go check on her, but can I get you anything? Water? Help dilute the wine?” He offers.

“Er, well, no, I can get some myself. I’d hate to infringe–”

“Well, I wouldn’t ask if it was a problem,” he says.

“Really, it’s fine, I think I’ve taken up enough of your time.”

He nods and glances towards the hall, “you know, it didn’t bother me having you here. I’m sorry about her.”

“You don’t have to…”

“I know she forgot. She’s done it to me too. Before we were… official,” he says the last word with punctuated syllables.

“Oh, I’m sorry–”

“See, it’s not that hard to apologise so, I’ll make sure she does,” he interjects, “and I’ll let you settle down. It’s late and I’m sure you’re exhausted. Coming all the way here after work. You really went out of your way and I had a great night. Thanks.”

“Er, yeah, sure,” you murmur, “thanks for… joining in.”

He reluctantly leaves you as you watch him with bated breath. You’re so frigging awkward. You wait until you hear the bedroom door shut before you get up, taking the wine glass with you.

You go to the kitchen and rinse out the glass, refilling it with fresh water. You bring it back to the living room and move a pillow against the armrest, pulling down the fluffy throw onto the cushions. You shut off the television and tuck yourself in, the blanket too short, even for you.

What a lame Friday night. You could’ve had more fun alone.

🌆

It takes a bit for you to even feel tired. Your body is achy and sore but your mind is racing. Finally, you manage to close your eyes for more than a few minutes. You roll over to face the back of the couch and nestle into the pillow. You yawn as you feel yourself drifting.

A high pitch leaks into your ears. You twitch and your lashes flutter. It’s just the pipes or a siren somewhere in the distance. The city sure is loud. You hear it again, something more akin to a squeak.

You shift onto your back as your stomach tingles. You cover your face with your arm and try to ignore the irritating sound but it just doesn’t stop. Your eyes snap open as you rip your arm off your head, realising what it is.

The soft low growls in return, the steady tap against the wall… it’s not the pipes or a siren. It’s Melanie. And Clark. They’re…

You flip the pillow over your head and bend your arm around it, blocking out the noise. Just when you think you can’t get any lower. You’ve been there before. The third wheel, the wing woman. High school was just you standing against the wall as Melanie made out with boys at a party you weren’t even invited to.

Maybe things haven’t changed that much. Maybe it’s that you didn’t see what was right in front of you. The one friend you thought you had, forgets you just like everyone else. This whole thing was a mistake. Moving to the city just so you can be her tag-along.

You wallow in your self-pity and sink down into your unconscious. The world slips away from you as your dreams ripples with muddy colours. You feel as if you're floating, bobbing on soft waves, disoriented and dazed.

You wake to the clink of glass. You groan as your head aches, the cushions stiff and unforgiving. Your neck is knotted just above your shoulders. You rub your cheek and stay as you are, still under the pillow as you get your bearings. You remember where you are and cling to the dregs of sleep in your eye.

Cool air tinges your skin, your leg hooked over the blanket. You hug the crumpled throw as the night seeps icily though your pajamas. The thin short set speckled in the little red hearts offer little warmth. You reach back to pull the shorts to your thigh as it rides up and tilt onto your back.

As you do, you sense a shadow over you. You peek under the slits of your eyelids and see a figure standing just a few feet from the other end of the couch. Long breaths blow into the air. It’s too large to be Melanie. It’s him. Is he watching you?

You can’t move. You’re paralysed in horror. Why is he just standing there? Goosebumps raise on your skin. You feel a whisper against your hip where he touched you earlier. It just can’t be that. He’s too nice.

You don’t know what to do so you close your eyes and lay completely still. You measure your breath as you wait. There’s a soft thunk as he sets down a glass on the table by the armrest and walks up the side of the couch.

Don’t move, don’t move, don’t move…

He tugs on the throw and spreads it over you as best he can. His fingers drag up your arm and he lingers, stroking your cheek as you resist the urge to pull away. He lets out a low growl and lumbers away, swiping up his glass as he goes.

You let your eyes open and catch a glimpse of his silhouette. His back is bare and thickly corded. The moonlight limns his muscles just before he disappears into the hall. You shudder as you release the heavy breath from your chest.

The bedroom door snaps shut as you clutch the blanket tight. It starts again. Melanie’s moans, Clark’s grunts, and the knocking of the bed frame. Quicker than before, almost furious. You just want this night to end.

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sunfyresrider · 11 months

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𝑴𝒊𝒅𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝑳𝒖𝒔𝒕

Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: The story of how you accidentally became fuck buddies with your best friend... who is a werewolf. Tags: Omegaverse, slick, ruts, knots all that stuff. VV minor manipulation, stressed out best friend, begging, cursing, short story mainly smut Author’s Note: This is my first time writing like this so pls be gentle w me. Inspired by a post my queen made a while ago @lovelykhaleesiii Not my best work but it's a filler while I update some other wips and series.

8:30 pm

Aegon was going to be late as usual. In the long years of friendship, you had with him he was never on-time to anything, although neither were you. You sunk into the couch and scrolled through your phone, searching for something to pass the time. At the very worst he would be an hour late, at the best he would be here soon.

9:30 pm

Tiktok was quickly becoming uninteresting and so was any discourse on Twitter you tried to read. The clock ticked on, and Aegon was nowhere to be seen. Your patience was wearing thin, and you couldn't help but wonder what could have possibly caused such a delay. Did something happen to him? Should you reach out to check if he was okay?

10:30 pm

The minutes turned into hours, and fatigue began to set in. Sitting on the couch, your mind drifted to various scenarios, from Aegon getting caught up in an unexpected event to simply forgetting about your plans. Regardless, his disappearance was unusual, even for him. Normally, he would have texted you with an excuse or promised to hang another there.

11:00 pm

As the night grew darker, your concern transformed into frustration. You considered calling or texting Aegon, but a part of you hesitated, not wanting to appear too eager or needy. You were proud, far too proud to let him know he was stressing you the fuck out. Still, you couldn't shake off the worry that something might have gone wrong. You stalked all of his socials, inactive. You tried to check his location, but he turned it off, bastard. You messaged Aemond who politely left you on read, as always.

By now you should accept the fact he’s ghosting you… After years of friendship, it ends like this. What a load of fucking bullshit, a game only Aegon would play. You’re overthinking, maybe he really was hurt or drunk or lost. Too many possibilities raced through your head as you were getting dressed.

12:00 pm

Your anxious nature took over as you stepped into his ancient apartment building made of old brick. In the past he’d been known for going on all types of benders. Even though he had been sober for quite some time it did not quell the thought he may have relapsed. Your worst fears grew more prominent each step you took towards his door. What if he was dead? What if he was missing? What if he really was just ghosting you to fuck another female? All of the above were causing your heart to race and stomach churn.

Bang bang bang

“Aegon! Are you in here?!” you shouted from outside the door, digging into your purse for the spare key. “Aeg! If you don’t answer i'm coming in!” From outside you could hear the sounds of… something inside. You weren’t sure if it was a groan or a moan but neither boded well for you. ‘Fuck it,’ you thought to yourself as you jammed your key into the door. The inside was the same, plain and simple. The black couch still sat in front of the flat screen and the kitchen by the door was completely untouched. As you stalked further inside the small whimpers from his bedroom became more and more clear. He was alive, but he must be with someone else. That almost hurt worse. Even if you were just friends, it was painfully obvious how much you fancied him. You were practically fuming, who the fuck was he with now? Your steps turned into long strides as you neared his door, slamming it open with one hand.

“What the fu-” The scene before you sucked all of the air out of your body. He was alive and… “This isn’t what it looks like!” He jumped, falling off the bed with only a sheet covering him. You were stunned, shocked, confused, and utterly dumbfounded. There he was humping a pillow wi- with a tail? “What the fuck—” you drawled out your words trying to comprehend the situation at hand. There Aegon was, as bare as a baby, with a fluffy tail and ears…

“I can explain, just- just-” Aegon paused to sniff the air, for the first time he noticed your scent. The pheromones you were releasing immediately threatened to drive him crazy. His rut was horrible this year, reaching the worst today. He took to fucking a pillow and was crying trying to ease the pain… You had no idea how much worse you had made it for him by walking inside. Had you been in heat this entire time and it took a transformation for him to notice your sweet smell? It was intoxicating, mind dumbing and exhilarating all at once. His thoughts became a flurry of all the things he wanted with you. Aegon wanted to ravage you, devour you whole and claim you as his mate. Did you even know you were in heat?

He stood up, with the sheet poorly covering his erection. His eyes were blurry with tears and his lips formed into a permanent pout. “I need you- I need your help, just please don’t run.” Your eyes drifted down to his bulge; it isn't wrong you were only human after all! “H-how can I help?” There are no words in any language to describe what you were feeling. You were shocked, scared, turned on, and in awe of the tail wagging behind him. Never in any lifetime did you expect the term “human golden retriever” to become a reality. “It hurts- so so bad.” He whined making slow moves towards you so as to not startle you.

This was odd, he was odd, you were having a fucking fever dream or something. You pointed a finger at his crotch, eyeing him up and down. He nodded his head vigorously and you swore his ears perked up. I can’t fix it without your help.” Was he drooling or was that the tears still falling from his eyes… “w-why?” His voice cracked, “Its- Its a wolf thing.” Ah, he was a werewolf not a dog. He took a step forward and you circled around him, back facing the bed. You weren’t scared, just overwhelmingly confused. Of course, you always wanted him, always thought of him begging but not like this…

Your breath was sucked out of you once more as he fell to his knees, hand gripping at your sides. He stared up at you with the worst case of puppy dog eyes you’ve ever seen. “I’ve always wanted you- I’ve always needed you, but I-I was so scared. P-please! Let me prove it to you.” A bit manipulative, but what else could he do? His cock was throbbing, and you were the most beautiful prey he had ever laid eyes upon. “I… ok, I’ll help.”

His eyes turned primal, making you automatically realize there was an error in your decision. Aegon, acting purely on instinct, pounced on you. His weight pushing you fully onto the bed, squirming beneath him as his lips devoured yours. A guttural growl escaping his throat as he grinded himself against your clothed cunt.

Aegon's fingers dug into your thighs as he pulled them apart. His tongue lapped hungrily at your neck, making you shudder as goosebumps erupted across your skin. A moan escaped your lips as his hands moved to rip off your clothes. Of course, he couldn’t just remove them normally. With two quick tears they were gone along with your bra and panties leaving you completely naked under his gaze. Superhuman strength, that’ll take some getting used to.

The feel of his hot breath sent shivers through your body as he moved downwards. He was panting, inhaling the sweet scent of your slick. Aegon needed to taste it, to feel it cover his tongue. His fingers trailed over your cunt before pressing firmly into your slit, causing you to arch upwards. Oh god, were you this wet from him crying?

You felt the tip of his tongue press against your clit. At first it was just a taste, to test if you were as sweet as you smelled. It was better, so much better than anyone could imagine. His mouth pressed firmly against you, Aegon’s tongue mercilessly lapping at your pussy. The way he devouring you drove you insane, sending shocks shooting throughout your entire being.

He began to lap faster at your sensitive flesh, desperate to swallow you whole. He behaved like a man starved and this was his last steak. He didn’t care about anything else; all he cared for was satisfying his hunger. His claws pricked your ass cheeks as he knelt between your legs, forcing you open wider. His tongue dipped into your hole causing your legs to shiver.

"Ahh!" You cried out, buckling as waves of pleasure shot through your core. Your cunt began tightening around nothing as his tongue moved to do circles around your clit. The vibrations of his low growls sending a new pleasure throughout you.

He pulled back, his face glistening with your slick. Aegon licked his lips lazily, as he stared down at you. "Baby," he purred, baring his fangs you did not know existed. "I’m gonna claim you." His words made you blush, wait how was he gonna?

He quickly shoved his lips onto your own, sucking every word out of your mouth. His teeth nipping at your bottom lip as he thrusted his hips forwards, grinding against your slick. A sharp gasp escaped your lips as he prodded at your entrance.

Aegon let go of your face snaking his hands down to your waist… Without notice, he flipped you onto your stomach causing you to yelp. Before you knew it, he was straddling you, one knee on either side of your body. His erection rubbed against the crease between your ass cheeks as he held himself above you.

You looked up at him, watching his chest rise and fall rapidly. He stared at you for confirmation, even in wolf form consent mattered. You nodded, unable to speak. Aegon gave you a feral grin before shoving himself inside you.

"Oh fuck!" You moaned loudly as he pushed deeper, stretching you wide. This wasn't going to be easy. But then again, neither were any of the things Aegon did. He began thrusting harshly, giving you no time to adjust. Each deep push forced another scream to escape your lips until he dropped his full weight on you, pulling your face up by your hair.

Aegon’s head dipped into the crook of your neck, near your collarbone and he fucking bit you. From this point on, you were claimed, forever and always his omega. His movements became rougher as he neared his finish. It felt as if his cock was growing inside you.

Your hands gripped the sheets tightly, as you whimpered and moaned different curses. Your body acting without you as it tightened around him. As if your very essence wanted to give him what he desired most. Allowing him to fill you up and make you his.

"A-A-Aegon!" You screamed out as you came. Your muscles clenching around his shaft. He growled, a real growl this time as his cock began to form a knot, securing himself deep inside you. His arms wrapped unbearably tight around you, squeezing your breasts roughly while he slammed hard into you, burying his cock fully within your womb. Your cunt tightened around his knot as his seed spilled out inside of you.

You landed in unison, slowly he eased his grip on you so you could sink into the bed. “A-Aegon are you going to move?” You were absolutely clueless as to why you were still stuffed to the brim. His cock must have grown which goes against human biology but apparently so did his very existence.

He peppered kisses along your shoulder as he moved to pull you into a spooning position. “We’re gonna be stuck like this for a while.”

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen #aegon ii #aegon imagine #aegon fic #aegon x reader #aegon x you #aegon smut #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii x you #aegon ii smut #aegon ii x y/n #aegon x y/n #hotd fic #hotd au

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hannibalzero · 26 days

Text

WITH MY WHOLE HEART

Vaderwan au wip. Attempt number 2

(a reminder)

Maybe I'm just overthinking it? Please let me know?

🐰❤️🐰❤️

Anakin put his knife away, looking at the crude little heart with an A + O in the middle of the old oak tree in the emperors courtyard. He looked to the other little boy beside him and gave a smile taking his hand.

“Do you have to go, Anakin?” Obi-Wan lower lip was wobbling as he looked down holding Anakin’s hand tightly, desperately trying not to cry now. “I know its a great honor to be chosen as a page, under my uncle Qui-Gon-Jinn. But I’m going to miss you.” Obi-Wan looked into Anakin’s blue eyes.

“I do, I can’t be a servant forever. Mom needs me, plus when I come back as a knight? We can be together.” Anakin excitedly explained to the other nine year old boy. “Don’t cry Obi, it won’t be that long.” He encouraged.

Obi-Wan wasn’t a crying type of child, he only cried when something was desperately upsetting. “Bu-but, You’ll have to become a Darth knight! So much so that the emperor’s hunting hounds. The most elite of his knights.” Obi-Wan was balling using his long sleeves to wipe his eyes, the way all children did.

Anakin hugged Obi-Wan tightly helping the prince sooth himself.

“Then that’s what I’ll do, I’ll become a sith. Gane my title as a Darth and come back to you.” Anakin pressed their foreheads together. “I promise.” He vowed to the little prince with the copper hair.

Chewing his lip for a moment, Obi-Wan locked eyes with Anakin. “You’re supposed to seal promises with a kiss.” Obi-Wan informed with that know it all prince tone of voice. “I promise that I will wait for you Anakin.” Obi-Wan gave Anakin a simple child like kiss as he ripped a button off his soft green play dress.

A copper button with a running rabbit was place into Anakin’s hand.

“I promise” Anakin held button close to his chest….

That little copper button had been with Anakin, now Darth Vader for seventeen years.

Vader had the button on a thin chain around his neck, the running rabbit that was impressed onto the copper was hardly there. Worn down from years of him wearing the button. It was hard to believe how small the button was, or how big it used to feel in his hand.

He couldn’t bring himself to get rid of the copper, or smith it into something else. Because every time he looked at the little round copper, he would think of the smell of jasmine. Being in the shade of that old oak tree, and the sweet little kiss that he had shared with Prince Obi-Wan Kenobi.

In a way? Vader considered that kiss to be the end of his boyhood.

After that little kiss, life as a knights page started. Magics, saber training, battles, negations, dragon taming, the loss of his right arm, War and glory.

The emperors attention and approval.

Anakin had earned his title as a Darth, one of the three hunting hounds of Emperor Sidious.

His favorite.

Anakin Skywalker was now Darth Vader, rider of excautor the largest of dragons in the empires control.

Vader’s control.

#star wars #obikin #obi wan kenobi #my writing #anakin skywalker #fanfic #vaderkin #vaderwan #with my whole heart au #feedback please #to dumb #pulling out my hair #writing is hard

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sunnebeam · 10 months

Text

one more kiss.

DRABBLE.

pairing: kim seokjin x reader

warnings: smut (minors do not interact), unprotected sex (this is fiction, but please be more responsible irl), angst, cursed!reader, mentions of past deaths in which reader feels responsible for, open-ended (i'll leave it up to ur imaginations what happened next heh)

masterlist + disclaimers.

note: ok so this is just me turning most of my fic ideas into short drabbles just so i can check then off my wip list ^^ so without further ado, here's a drabble for our lovely jin! let me know what u think

Quiet nights often bring loud thoughts.

Take tonight, for instance. It's rather quiet and peaceful, fluffy clouds filtering the moonlight, no other sounds except for the beat of your heart and his. It's a tranquil night, and for an overthinker like Seokjin, it's a night of loud what-ifs.

What if he kisses you?

He'd love to. You've been together for a while now, yet he never once tasted your lips.

What if you kiss him?

You'd love to, too. But you love him more, and you won't ever let his lips find a home in yours.

You can't.

"Hey," he calls out to you as you're both snuggling blissfully in bed, your clothes and his in rumpled heaps on the floor, the light sheen of sweat covering your bodies a testament to the lewd acts you both just engaged in a few moments prior.

"Hmm," you hum in acknowledgment, your fingers tracing patterns on his skin near where your head lays on his bare chest.

"Do you love me?"

You're tracing your initials now.

"Do you love me?"

"I asked first."

You're tracing his name.

"I do," you finally whisper, and feeling vulnerable, you add, "more than I should."

He halts your fingers' movements and takes your hand in his.

"I do, too," he whispers, bringing your hand to his lips, mindful of your slight hesitation when you feel his plump lips on your skin. "Will you do something for me?"

"Anything."

And that's all the permission he needs.

Flipping you over, he lays you on your back and hovers above you — a position all too familiar in lovers' bedrooms, but not in yours.

"Wait," you say, frightened at the change, "Jin, we can't—"

You've never done this before. You've only ever fucked in positions where he's pounding into you from behind. You've never had sex facing each other before. And for good reason.

He kisses your nose, and you freeze in fright at the action, at the feeling of his lips just a few centimeters from your own.

"Trust me?" he pleads, looking straight into your eyes.

It's not that you don't trust him. It's just that you know he won't be able to resist.

After all, nobody was ever able to resist.

That's just how the curse worked – with your lips luring in their prey, and their victims unable to resist.

"I can't lose you," you tell him, eyes tearing up.

And like a moth to a flame, the moment their lips touch yours...

"You won't."

...they die.

It's why you never let Jin kiss you. It's why you never have sex in missionary. You can't take any chances. You can't.

Too many people have died in the past because of you, because you were careless, because you were reckless. Too many people have died because of your kiss, and you'd be damned if you let Jin be another one of them.

"I thought you understood." A tear slips down your cheek. "I want to, I swear. But it's too dangerous, Jin."

He catches the tear and wipes it away.

"I promise I'll be careful."

Now, Jin has always been honest with you. But tonight – with you in his arms like this, with your resolve starting to waver, and with your tiny nod finally giving him silent permission – he prioritizes your peace of mind over his and decides to lie to you.

He's lying to you as he cradles you in his arms and places kisses on your neck. He's lying to you as he moves his fingers to your wet heat and preps you for him. He's lying to you as he then pumps his cock and slowly slips inside you.

"F-Fuck," you moan at the stretch, hands clutching his shoulders in a death grip. The sensation the unfamiliar position brings is too much for you, and you find yourself nearing your climax in a way you never have before.

"You're so wet," he groans, thrusting into you in a slow, sensual pace, and feeling your pussy clench uncontrollably.

"I'm so close, Jin," you whimper, not even the least bit embarrassed that you'll finish so early.

"Let go, love. It's okay."

He wants you to let go. He needs you to let go of all your fears, your burdens, your inhibitions. Everything.

He wants you to give them all to him. He needs you to let him carry them, shoulder them, bury them. For you.

Because he's your soulmate. Your one true love.

"I'm cumming!" you cry out, reaching your high.

You're coming undone around his cock, your pussy milking him and coaxing him into his own orgasm. He follows just seconds after, spilling inside you and staying there until his dick eventually softens.

He pulls out slowly and looks at you.

Your eyes are closed and you have a small, content smile on your face at this new level of intimacy you just experienced with your lover. And it's that same, content smile that prompts him to do what he does next.

He kisses you.

He kisses you because he always wondered what it would be like to kiss you, always wondered what your lips would taste like on his tongue, always wondered what your lips would feel like pressed against his own.

He kisses you because he always wanted to kiss you, always wanted to feel close to you, always wanted to experience this kind of intimacy with you.

He kisses you because he always thought about what your life would be like if you weren't crippled by your curse.

What if there's a cure? What if there's something he could do? What if, somewhere, somehow, there's a way?

And so tonight, there would be no more what-ifs.

Because he read about curses like yours and there's a theory about how only one thing can fix it.

A true love's kiss.

#bts x reader #kim seokjin x reader #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #bts fic #bts smut #kim seokjin fic #kim seokjin smut #seokjin fic #seokjin smut #bts x you #kim seokjin x you #seokjin x you #jin x you #cat.writes

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hanniejji · 1 year

Text

afterglow ft. mikage reo

[ sloppily written because I haven't written shit for almost a year and obviously no proofreading lmao who does that nowadays | 581 words | brainrot ]

afterglow!reo but he's not in taylor swift's pov.

afterglow!reo who knows you so well that the moment the words "let's break up" comes out your mouth, he calmly replies says "no."

"why?"

"because you don't mean that," he turns to you with a knowing smile, holding your tear stained cheeks in his hands, unknowingly along with your heart too, and rubbing your noses together, "you don't want to break up. i know you. i know you love me just as much as i love you. so i'm not letting you go. we're not breaking up."

afterglow!reo who then looks into your eyes, wipping the onslaught of tears with the pads of his thumb and whispers.

"look me in the eyes and tell me again."

"im sorry," you whimper his name, your breath hitching with every inhale and exhale. you can't possibly resist those eyes, those determined eyes that's filled with faith in you, faith in the love between the two of you. faith in your love that he knows you have for him. and it's enough to make you forget everything that made your head spin from overthinking, from all the words and eyes pointed at you every time you stand next to him outside of the comfort of your home.

"i love you," your lips brushes against his as you speak, "i don't want to lose you."

afterglow!reo who couldn't help himself from holding you a little tighter against his chest. who whispers sweet nothings in your ears as his warmth slowly lulls you to sleep, kissing your eyelids.

afterglow!reo who releases a breath he didn't knew he was holding, finally feeling himself crumble after holding onto you tightly. he curls into a ball around you in an effort to reassure himself that you're still in his arms.

afterglow!reo who was freaking out from the beginning, holding himself upright for the both of you, because if he doesn't, then nothing would. he knows you really don't want to break up, he knows why you suddenly get moments like earlier, but it never fails to scare him. he'll never get used to it, he's so thankful that you were too distracted to notice how his pulse quickens, his eyes begging you to prove him right, tell him that he's right to trust you this much despite the fears at the back of his head.

afterglow!reo who looks down at your slumped figure in his arms and decides that you belong there and nowhere else. he'd be damned if he lets anything take you away from him, even if it's your own insecurities.

afterglow!reo who's strong enough to fight your fears for you, who will wage war against your own insecurities just to keep you right here. reo will battle both of yours and his insecurity.

afterglow!reo who snaps out of his train of thoughts when your arms circles around his torso, murmurs of his name escaping your lips that's lifted in a sleepy smile. his eyes glistens, finally able to breathe properly, because he knows you.

he knows you love him, knows that you're fighting to keep this too. knows that no matter how many times you stumble in the darkness in your head, all he needs to do is call out your name and you'd come back to the light just with the sound of his voice.

so no, reo won't lose to any battle. and he certainly won't lose you.

#blue lock #bllk #mikage reo #reo mikage #mikage reo x reader #reo mikage x reader #reo x reader #bllk reo #reo x y/n #mikage x reader #bllk x reader #bllk x you #blue lock x reader

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for-a-longlongtime · 7 months

Text

WIP Wednesday with Peña-Rockford

(It's still Wednesday if it's 3 am and I haven't gone to bed yet, right?)

Alright, if you saw @sin-djarin's poll from this morning you may have noticed how, eh... things escalated quickly. So this WIP preview/mood board is the result from that. Also major credit to her for the song below which fits the mood perfectly for how this is shaping up to be.

Figured I'd drop it here to make sure I won't overthink it too much and will just get it written & ready to post. Particularly because of the encouraging reactions from everybody this morning. Please mind this is still a very rough draft without any editing! Not sure what this will be called, so I'm rolling with a working title for now. Gifs by @arcanefox207 , first line courtesy of @morallyinept.

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I Fought The Law (And The Law Won) - WIP snippet #1

Detective Tim Rockford x f!reader x Javier Peña

“That will teach you to run your fuckin’ mouth at me, Agent”, Rockford hisses. His hand is on Javier’s throat, the other one cupping him through his jeans as he holds him pinned against the wall. “Mind your manners. Brat.”

Javier fumes at him, attempting to push back, but Tim doesn’t only have a good ten years on him - he’s also broader, an inch or two taller and, as it seems, stronger. Which shouldn’t be a turn on, Javier thinks to himself, but his dick appears to have different ideas about that.

The slow smile spreading over Tim’s face makes it clear he notices it, too. He leans over, his dark brown eyes admiring the splay of his long fingers over Javier’s throat. The smile turns into an arrogant smirk when he feels the DEA agent swallow hard, almost gasp for air.

“Why am I not surprised?”, he says softly in a low sing-song voice, his breath warm and ghosting over the curve of Javier’s ear. When there’s no response, he moves his hand up to tilt Javier’s chin, making his head tips back against the wall, eyes meeting. “The brat tamer really wants to be tamed himself.”

Javier closes his eyes, his mind cloudy as he tries to figure out how the tables got flipped on him so fast. Fuck. “You talk a lot of shit, Rockford,” he eventually manages as he shakes his head, but he knows how weak of a retort it is as the words leave his lips. He can’t open his eyes yet - can’t make himself meet Tim's intense look again. Not when it takes up all his effort to resist thrusting against the large hand that's gripping his dick.

NEXT: WIP Snippet #2 right here

If you can't listen to the track, here are the lyrics;

Don't worry I'm not looking at you Gorgeous and dressed in blue Don't worry I'm not looking at you

I know you see me see you As you see me walk on past

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

FYI @sin-djarin @legendary-pink-dot @imalrightllama @secretelephanttattoo @rhoorl @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @trulybetty @goodwithcheese @linzels-blog @rifflovesjoey @maggiemayhemnj @magpiepills @youandmeand5bucks @morallyinept @5oh5 @missredherring @avastrasposts @anavatazes @imaswellkid @pedrit0-pascalit0 @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @libellule2001 @survivingandenduring @boliv-jenta @sheepdogchick3 @inept-the-magnificent @northernwindd @alltheglitterandtheroar @readingiskeepingmegoing @alwaysmicado

If anyone wants to be added to the taglist when I put up the entire fic, just drop a comment and let me know!

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oh-koenig-my-koenig · 6 months

Text

Fit for a King - WIP - “I never miss the shots I take”

Fit for a King - Masterlist

a/n: this got a bit darker, but to balance it all out there's some cute smutty stuff later in the chapter - hope you enjoy

König, Müller and the KorTac Team are on a mission to get a target out of a prison, everything went well, but lying in bed, Müller is uneasy and reflects on today…

TW/CW: mentions of violence and death (ptsd), nsfw explicit scenes

I lie on the bunk in my tent and I can't fucking sleep. Today's mission replays in my head, over and over again. I almost missed one of the prisonguards. König ziplined up the tower, thinking it was all clear, when the guard stepped around the corner, running into him. Luckily my eyes were on him and I dropped the guard before he could even reach König.

"Achtung, Maus1!", he shouted over the coms. A moment later he added "Nice shot though." and I could hear the smile in his voice. I was extra careful after that. My eyes didn't leave him at all, were glued to him. Everything after that went smoothly and we got the target out, no problem.

But the feel of worry didn't go away and it's still eating me up a bit. The target already got lifted by heli, brought to the nearest hospital because the injuries were too severe to leave them with the field medic. We're going to get picked up tomorrow 1100. Enough of a break for most of the team to sit in the main tent and relax a bit. I can hear their laughs faintly and I'm sure booze is involved.

I didn't want to join them. The lingering feeling that I almost failed today and almost got one of my teammates killed – not just anyone, but the Colonel – got my mind racing and overthinking. What if I hadn't seen the guard when I did? What if I had missed my shot? What if the guard had moved faster or got a shot off at König?

I wanted to apologize to him. But after we rescued the target, he didn't leave their side. Then later he was in the meeting tent, doing all the boring organisational work with Horangi. And I didn't want to disturb them. I went for a shower, washing all the dirt and grime off myself, missing warm water already (one of the few luxuries I always miss on missions). By the time, Nikto asked me if I wanted to join them in the team tent, I was already spiraling into overthinking territory and drafting apologies in my head, so I declined. And that's why I'm lying in my bunk right now, rehashing every detail and going over what happened. Again.

As the only woman on this smaller mission, they gave me my own small tent, so at least nobody will see me in this state. I groan and push my head into the pillow. Relax, Karina, nothing happened. You didn't miss the shot. He's fine. Still standing tall. Mental images of Håkon bust their way to the forefront of my mind. Breathe, I tell myself, just breathe, as the scenes of his death replay almost as vividly as when he was shot right in front of me.

I don't really register what's happening around me, as the moment his head rolls back replays over and over again, until I feel a big heavy hand on my neck. "Müller, Müller!" The voice is calling my name. The scream I let go gets swallowed up by the pillow until I'm being flipped. "You're okay, you're okay, you're okay.", the voice continues to try and calm me down as another big hand comes down on my mouth to stop my screams. "Breathe, Sergeant, breathe." The commanding tone of the voice cuts through the panic hazing my mind and my blurry vision starts to turn clear. I take two deep breaths and a t-shirt fashioned into a sniper hood fills my field of view, two eyes looking worriedly at me from the two holes cut into the front. The first thing I notice is that there is no eyeblack around them, just a bit left on the lower lashline, giving him an emo look.

"Erde an Maus2, everything okay?" I nod hesitatingly, holding back the tears I feel pricking in the corners of my eyes. I'm not gonna cry in front of the Colonel. "I'm okay.", I say, not sounding convincing at all. I'm glad he shook me out of my flashback, but his presence confronts me with the reason why I had a flashback in the first place.

"Uh, good that you're here, I guess.", I say trying to sit up. My head is swimming. "I actually wanted to talk to you about today." Even I can hear that I'm slurring my words, I'm still so loopy. "Hey, hey, langsam3." His arm loops around my waist. "Maybe you should go to the medical tent?", he suggests steadying me while he completely skips over the fact I wanted to talk to him. I try to ignore the feeling, as I'm reminded of the way he grabbed me just a few days ago, which was so different from now. "No, it... It'll be fine, I just need to bring oxygen back into my body." I slump down. "I guess, I didn't get proper air when… the pillow..."

His big hand strokes over my back just once, in a comforting manner, and I sigh. "Okay, you know best.", he says simply and relief floods my veins. "But I'm gonna stay here for a bit, so you don't collapse while nobody is here, okay, Mauserl4?" Mauserl. What a weird word. The ‘au’ is long and broad and the ‘l’ sounds soft and breathy. I nod and keep breathing.

"Oh, this is so stupid.", I groan and bury my face in my hands ashamedly. "Hey, stop it.", he says, carefully pulling them away again. "It's not stupid. That's just the way it is in our line of work, unfortunately.", he says and I can hear the sad smile in his voice. "I can't count all the times I actually pulled somebody from a flashback and then comforted them. You're one of us and unfortunately that comes with the package." His hand continues to stroke up and down my back, and we just sit in silence for a few moments.

"I almost fucked up today.", I say then, soundlessly. "How?", he asks, confusion mixing into his voice. "I almost missed the guard that was on the tower you infiltrated." – "Müller, that was not your assignment. And you eliminated him on sight.", he explains calmly. “But what if I hadn’t seen him or missed or something like that?”, I worry. “Did that ever happen?”, he asks softer than I would have expected him to ever talk to me. I shake my head and smile sadly. “I never miss the shots I take.” His hand stills for a moment and then starts to caress me again. “Then what happened?” I sigh. “I- I hesitated. For just a second. And instead of me dropping the enemy, my teammate got a headshot from them.” I’m looking at my hands. They’re shaking hard. A sniper’s hand should never shake. I ball them into fists, swallowing down the next wave of tears. “It was my fault that he died.” His other hand softly grips my chin and makes me look up at him.

I meet his eyes and they’re soft, so soft. He wipes away one stray tear rolling down my face. “You can’t change what happened. That’s the way it is unfortunately.”, he says, honestly, stern, and yet calm enough to give me some weird kind of comfort. “Beating yourself up doesn’t bring them back. We still all do it.” There’s sadness in his expression as well. “It’s the harsh truth. But we can still look out for our comrades that are still alive and kicking.” He’s smiling at me, I can see it by the way his nose is scrunching up and the laugh lines around his eyes get more prominent. It looks downright cute. “So, you don’t need to apologize for anything. Thank you for looking out for me.”, he tells me and I hear the sincerity in his voice. I nod and cast my eyes down. “I would do that for anyone of my mates.”, I say. “I know, but still. Thank you.”, he repeats again, with that soft voice that is making me feel things. I can’t look at him right now, feeling vulnerable and shy. It was easier to be stand-off-ish and flirty with him rather than… like this! Whatever this is.

“Hm, so shy, I don’t know you like this.”, he chuckles. “Weren’t you the woman that threw me over her back? That wanted me to take her and eat her up just a few day ago?” That pulls me out of my shyness. My head whips up to look at him again, and I feel heat creep up my face. “You started it. Both times.”, I say poutily, but I can’t help the little smile coming through. He shrugs lightly. “Maybe…” His eyes are twinkling and I would have given anything to see the grin on his face right now. His hand is on my cheek again. “Mh, look, already smiling again.” His thumb is caressing my cheek. And he’s close, so close.

“What do you say? You want me to take your mind off of it? Distract you a little bit?”, he asks, his face just a few inches from mine. You don’t have to be a psychic to know what kind of distraction he’s talking about. I nod, starring into his eyes, biting my own lip at the thought of him making some of his words true. “Use your words, Liebes5.”, he coos pulling my lip down. “Yes please.”, I blurt out without hesitation. He chuckles again, satisfied at my answer. His hands let go of me and grab the waist of my pants. I help him get it off, hurriedly, and he signals me to slow down. “Just let me, okay?” And I let him.

König gets rid of my panties as well, then he gets up from the floor and sits next to me on the bunk, pulling me into his lap, so my back is against his front, hard, warm, comforting. One arm he hooks under my leg, spreading me for him. My nerves are starting to get to me, but then I hear him groan, right beside my ear. It sends a wave of arousal over me because it’s so fucking hot when men make those little sounds. His right hand is slowly trailing down my stomach, the fingers softly caressing me. My breath hitches in my throat as he’s almost reached my pussy, and I can feel him hesitating as well for just the shortest moment. It feels like crossing a boundary. A boundary we’re both willing to leave behind us.

His fingers slide down and we both moan, almost in unison, when he touches me for the first time, definitely needy and already a bit wet. “We have to be quiet”, he whispers and I bite my lip again as he explores, stroking, caressing. I whimper as he slowly begins to circle my clit with two of his digits, dipping a bit deeper down with every flick of his wrist. I can feel myself growing wetter, more turned on, and I grab onto his arm that is still holding up my left leg while my other hand is sliding up to his shoulder. I just need to touch him too, and I don’t want to reach for his face because of his mask…

Then he pushes into me, one finger at first, slowly in and out. “Hmm, so wet for me.” He adds another finger, stretching me out. I let out a deep sigh. “More, please.” He chuckles. “Aye, Ma’am.” He finds a rhythm with his fingers and the palm of his hand presses against me with every push. His touches get me worked up fast and my hips move out of their own volition, grinding against him. “Yes, ride my fingers.”, he coos.

I look to the side and find his eyes that are already on me. And suddenly the cheeky reach-around, a little impersonal, is getting way too hot, and all too real. Those are my Colonel’s fingers in my pussy and from the thinly veiled lust in his eyes, he’s enjoying this. A lot. The little distraction, meant for my pleasure, is getting to him. “Feel so fucking good.”, he grunts. He pushes deeper, his fingertips brushing over the most sensitive spot inside me. Fuck, that’s only his fingers, and I already feel so full. How would it be like to take his dick?

His head dips down, breaking the eye contact, until his lips touch the side of my neck. Kissing, nibbling, licking, and I’m reminded of how he bit me, and I almost want to tell him to mark me, but the last shred of sanity is holding me back. “Come on, Prinzessin6, come for me.”, he breathes against my skin, the breath skitting over the wet patches he left with his mouth and tongue. “I wanna feel you come on my fingers.” His thumb is strumming over my clit and his mouth sucks on the most sensitive spot on my neck, and the sensations push me over the edge and I follow his command. He doesn’t stop fingerfucking me and helps me ride the orgasm out until I’m spent and breathing heavily in his arms. My head rolls back onto his shoulder and we just stay like this for a moment.

I look back at him, aware that he’s still inside me. But he pulls out his fingers and before I realise, he brings them to his lips. I can’t really see what he’s doing because of his hood, but the way his hand moves and how his eyes roll back, he must be… he’s licking my arousal of his fingers. My chin drops. “You taste even sweeter than I imagined.”, he finally says meeting my eyes again, and I can’t help the blush rising to my cheeks. I’m at a loss for words, but the way he looks at me… my god. I consider dropping down on the floor, to my knees, just freeing his dick and taking him in my mouth. But he gets up with me in his arms, holding me against his chest for just a moment. I let myself enjoy the embrace, his scent and warmth giving me another sense of comfort.

König sets me down on the bunk bed, pulling my sleeping bag over me. “Good night, Mauserl4, sleep tight.”, he says pressing a kiss on my forehead and I melt a little. God damn it. I look after him as he leaves, maybe admiring his butt a bit, the sway of his hips bringing more dirty thoughts to my mind. He peeks out the tent, looking around and then he’s gone. I sit up, reaching for my pants and… my panties are gone. Did he fucking steal them? I shake my head, laughing to myself, sigh and snuggle myself into my sleeping bag. Well, I guess, that just happened.

Maus: 'mouse', Müller's callsign (see chapter “If you have had me on my back, we can also be on a first name basis”)

Erde an Maus: 'earth to mouse'

langsam: 'slow

Mauserl: 'little mouse' (a more austrian version to 'Mäuschen', sounding a bit like: <mow-suhl>)

Liebes: 'lovely'

Prinzessin: 'princess'

#könig #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig #konig cod #konig mw2 #könig x fmc #könig fanfiction #cod mw2 smut #könig smut #konig smut #cod smut

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koumine · 1 year

Text

😈😈 ~ make me ~ 😈😈 [omega!sub!Jason Todd x alpha!dom!GN!Reader] [A/B/O] [teaser]

teaser for an upcoming, still untitled smut fic! ngl the title will probably end up being Arctic Monkeys lyrics again

content tags: omega sub Jason Todd x alpha dom Reader, GN race neutral Reader, A/B/O dynamics!, bratty Jason, hair pulling, submission bite, in this house Jason Todd is multiracial, fight me ✨

---

[RATED M BELOW] [WIP ZONE] [-> masterlist!]

"I can see you overthinking right now," you say, amused. You have him pinned to the bed by a hand twined into the soft curls at the back of his head and a knee pressed to the small of his back.

He cracks dark sea-green eyes open just enough to send you a shitty look back over his shoulder, the brat. "Means you ain't doing your job, alpha," he snarls, "seeing as the whole point of this was to get me to stop —"

He breaks off with a gasp when you fist your hand in his hair and tug hard enough to shift his head across the bed. Another rub of his cheek against the bedsheet, and the twin sensations, that sinful softness beside the sharp pain of his hair being pulled, are enough to make him exhale in a whimper.

You straddle him, lean down to speak softly in his ear and to let him feel your warm weight pressing him into the bed.

"Stop thinking," you say softly, a command as well as a finish to his sentence that you interrupted.

He grumbles to cover the way he shivers a little, but nothing can hide the way his scent spikes with desire. He needs this, needs you and what you can do for him. What he trusts only you to do for him.

Still, he flashes his teeth in challenge, because letting you lay him out flat on the bed without protest is one thing, but letting your teeth anywhere near his neck that easy is another thing entirely.

"Fucking make me," he snarls.

So you bare your teeth right back at him, a near feral grin, and let loose a low alphan rumble from deep in your chest, aggressive and possessive enough to make him whine in quiescent response, eyes going half mast.

He's so fucking beautiful like this, you think as you tug the collar of his leather jacket down to expose his nape, as you tighten your grip on his hair to keep him still, as you bite down firmly on the nape of his neck.

He melts limply into the bed, moaning softly as the submission bite makes his whole body go lax and soft in a way that's so hard to achieve by any other means.

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writingquestionsanswered · 8 months

Note

Do you have any advice for someone starting a blog on blogger for (young/teenage or aspiring) writers by a teenage aspiring writers for me to share things I've learnt over the years of trial and failure.

Tips for Young Writer Blogging for Young Writers

First and foremost: there's no such thing as an "aspiring writer." People say it a lot, but it has no meaning. You can be an aspiring author or an aspiring professional writer, but if you write, you're a writer. Period. Being a writer doesn't require publication or being paid for your writing. Now, some tips! ♥

1 - First and Foremost, Don’t Overthink It.

I’m starting here, because this is a subject that can be very overwhelming, but it doesn’t have to be. Some writers/authors seem to have limitless time to dedicate to social media, but most of us don’t, and that’s okay. It’s better to prioritize your writing, but there are things you can do to work social media into your routine. Also, don’t feel like everything you post has to be related to writing, your writing life, or some super interesting event or adventure. Content is content. It can be just about anything.

2 - Find a Unique Gimmick.

“Gimmick” can be kind of an ugly word, but say what you want about gimmicks–they work! You have a built-in gimmick by being a young writer who's writing about their own trials, failures, and successes. However, coming up with a unique theme, choosing a matching title and aesthetic, and having at least some consistent content that is unique to your blog can all help to get your blog noticed.

3 - Find Your Community.

It helps to think about who your target audience is. We know they're young writers, but what else do they like? What do they write about? What do they like to read? Where do they hang out online? Knowing these details can help you find your community and target your content. Follow similar bloggers and look at the followers of similar bloggers to see who you can follow (who might follow you back). Interaction is important to building and maintaining followers. You don't have to interact with everyone, but making sure you engage with at least some of your followers will keep them coming back.

4 - Be Somewhat Consistent.

You may want to vary your content to three or four different types, for example: blog posts, WIP snippets, reblogs, and advice posts. Then, make sure you stick to those three or four types of content pretty consistently. It's not that you can never vary, but sticking with that content most of the time lets your blog readers know what to expect when they seek out your blog. You should also make sure you post at a fairly consistent rate and time, like every Monday afternoon and every Friday morning. Again, the consistency helps the reader know what to expect.

Content Ideas:

writing advice/tips

writing-related/motivational/book quotes

pictures that relate to what you write/want to write

pictures that relate to reading/writing

reblogs from other writers/readers

writing/reading related memes

aesthetics of your favorite books or your WIPs

personal writing-related anecdotes

writing tip/advice posts (share what you know!)

photos of your writing space/reading area

pictures of handwritten quotes or tips that you want to share

photos of coffee, tea, stationery, books, pets, nature

your monthly goals/end of month review

Book, movie, tv show, video game reviews

Arts, Crafts, DIY, Cooking, Adventures, and Other Hobbies

5 - Know Your Hashtags.

Hashtags are super important in getting your content into other people’s feeds. Look at the hashtags other people are using for similar posts, start making a list and go explore them. See which ones get the most traction. You can also use Google to find lists of suggested hashtags.

And most of all...

Be Patient…

One of the hardest things about writing blogs is feeling like you’re shouting into a wind tunnel. It can be really, really hard to build up followers, and even once you have them, it can sometimes feel like no one cares. Interaction on social media tends to be as low as 5% to 10% of your total number of followers, so if you have 30 followers, you may get as few as one or two likes and reblogs per post. Don’t let that discourage you. It doesn’t mean only 1 or 2 people care. It just means only 1 or 2 people are bothering to engage. A lot of people browse their feeds and never hit the like or reblog button, but they still see your post and probably enjoyed it. Stick with it. It may take months before you start to build up a more solid following and gain more interaction, but if you stick with it and are consistent with your posts and interaction with others’ posts, you’ll get there.

Be sure to let me know once it's up and you have a few post up. I will be happy to share it! ♥

Best wishes on this endeavor!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

LEARN MORE about WQA

SEE MY ask policies

VISIT MY Master List of Top Posts

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#writing tips #writing help #writing advice #wqaadvice

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forestshadow-wolf · 18 days

Note

I've just seen your wip game thing and I'm asking everyone stuff because I love asking questions

Anyway

The soap vocal dysphoria thing really piqued my interest (totally can't relate) so I'm going to randomly tap my keyboard and hope these questions come out in a semi understandable form

What sort of dysphoria does he have relating to his voice? Is it all the time or is it just when he notices? Or does he compare his voice to others (eg: "Gaz has a nice voice, why don't I sound like him?" Or "Price and Ghost have such deep voices why does mine sound squeaky?" Or "my Da is scottish but noone asks him to repeat what he said")

Do the others find out about it or does he suffer in silence? Does he fight them on helping? Do they shower him in compliments and cause his face to go red because he's not used to getting compliements (maybe leading for more angst if he ends up liking his voice but then fixates on the things about him they don't compliment?) Does he end up not answering comms on a mission due to a flare up? Causing one of his teammates to get captured and making him hate his voice more? (Or it might lead to him being captured )

That is all :]

YIPPIE!! I love when people ask me about my writing! Also I'm totally projecting onto hom for this lmfao.

Idk if you've seen this snippet that I posted but anyway!! So this is gonna be soapghost (bc they're apparently the only ship I can write lol)

Ok so- what kind? It's less of one specific thing like "I wish My voice was deeper" and more of a general distaste for his own voice (and the amount that he speaks (eg. "Gaz has a nice voice, I should let him speak more." Or "shut-up, Mactavish, let Price and/or Ghost speak for once." Or "I talk so much. I bet everyone is tired of hearing me by now."))

I think yes the others do end up realizing, but definitely not for awhile. I think after the do realize he would deny that he was acting and different until he's blue in the face. But he will 100% go tomato red at any compliment, and try to redirect the conversation. I think he definitely would overthink it a bunch too (like you said), but I also think that Gaz, Price and Ghost would know him well enough to see him get in his own head about it and say something along the lines of "hey, I can see you thinking too hard about it, stop it. I like when you talk, okay?" And I don't wanna say he'd immediately believe them, but it would put a halt to the spiraling thoughts.

On missions I don't think he'd go as far as not responding on comms (mostly because I think he knows that would possibly put his team members/other people in danger), but he wouldn't banter as much, and keep all responses short and curt.

If, on a mission, he got captured for a different reason (that wasn't him not responding on comms) he would definitely use his voice to annoy his captors (eg. Talking nonstop, singing, humming, joking, ect.). Of course when he does get rescued he's talked himself hoarse, much to his relief because he doesn't think he'd be able to shut himself up after being so loose lipped about anything and everything (that isn't confidential), and he wouldn't want to annoy his team so soon after they rescued him.

I think ghost would help him slowly learn to love his voice again. Now ghost isn't usually the kne that talks a lot, but for soap he would. For soap he'd sing their favorite song from the rooftops if it made soap sing with him. I think he'd lay his head on soap's chest, and ask him questions just to get him to speak. I think he could fall asleep like that and mindlessly murmur "i love your voice", and I think It'd be such a tiny comment, so mindless, but it would do wonders for soap.

#vocal dysphoria #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghostsoap #soapghost #call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #wip #wip snippet #lovely ask #follow asks #el rambles

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months

Text

Dirty Work 21

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: have a wonderful day!

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The gate bell buzzes and you rush from the kitchen to answer, the porcelain clinking as you leave it in the sink. You flit into the hall and to the entryway. As you pull the door open, you sense a shadow and turn to see Laufeyson at the top of the stairs. He watches but does not speak. You waver before you find the strength to continue on.

You shut the door gently and try to breathe through your rattling nerves. You don't understand what's going on. The words Laufeyson said still don't make sense to you. He can't mean what you think. You have to be overthinking. Yet the tickle of his touch remains on your skin and fuels your doubts.

How can you say no to him? If you do, he might say the same...

You repress a shudder as you reach the gate and hold the button to roll it back. Ronan steers through in his truck, pulling in just behind Laufeyson's flashy ivory car. You let the gate close and approach the truck bed as the carpenter climbs out.

"Miss," he opens the rear door to grab his bag, "you look nice, special occasion?"

You look down at yourself and wipe your sweaty palms on your skirt. It's sunny but it isn't the weather that has you fired up. You force a smile that makes your cheeks twitch.

"Uh, no, they're just...new," you sway as you push your hands behind you, "erm, so I guess... you should get started."

"I should," he checks his watch, a thick leather band with a tarnish face, "I hate to get in the way of your work. Or ruin your fancy clothes."

"Oh, uh, it's not... I'll bring you some water," you offer.

"Hmm," he hums as he shuts the door, "you're too kind for your own good. Nice to see you doing something for yourself for a change."

"I..." you swallow the truth. "Thanks."

"Not that you didn't look good before," he insists.

"Well, I..." you murmur, looking away bashfully.

"I'm talking a lot," he chuckles, "you know where I'll be."

He turns and stalks off towards the house. You blow out a breath as your eyes are drawn to the front door. Mr. Laufeyson stands in the frame, again observing you, his gaze narrowed to slits. He reminds you of a snake in coil about to strike.

The door shuts before you can reach it. You enter and he's gone. It's like some game. You return to the kitchen to finish tidying up the porcelain from tea. You set it away in the glass cabinet and fill a fresh jug of water. As you place it on the patio, Frigga pops her head up from the roses, a healthy bouquet in hand as she snips the stems with a pair of cutters.

"These will be nice in the dining room," she suggests as she shows the white petals, "Maybe a few for the study?"

"Uh, yeah," you plunk down the pitcher and glass. "Did you need any water? This is for the carpenter."

"Oh, he's here?" She says, "I didn't see him. Perhaps I can ask him about the flower boxes."

"Yeah, uh, maybe," you agree, "I'll be, er, upstairs working. Got a lot to catch up on from yesterday."

"No worries at all, darling," she assures you.

You retreat and stumble to get your shoes off once more, mindful of the rules. That's the problem. Everyone is forgetting the rules. Ronan does the gazebo not the flower boxes, you don't wear your shoes in the house, and Loki-- Mr. Laufeyson is just your boss.

You rush up the stairs, nearly too at a time, and reach the top out of breath. You hurry into the library and close yourself up inside. It's just you. It strikes you how much you missed being alone. These last few weeks have felt so crowded. Constricted even.

You finally make yourself sit still. You find it hard not to wriggle in the seat as you watch the laptop screen load. It feels so long ago that you did this. It's all backwards and you don't like it. You like clear lines. You are separate from Mr. Laufeyson. You are below. You have your tasks and he has more important concerns.

You focus on balancing his bills. There are a lot of outstanding invoices. You're still learning how to keep it all organized. You feel a bit out of your depth with all the numbers but you excelled at math all those years before.

A subtle click barely registers but nestles in your ear. You squint at the screen as you watch a tutorial on Excel functions. You're still figuring that out too.

"The carpenter has been dealt with?" Mr. Laufeyson states as much as he asks.

"Yes, Mr. Laufeyson," you confirm and pause the video. You glance behind him at the open door to his study.

"Very good," he says, "he will work faster without distraction."

You nod. You take his point. He is right. It might be better that the project is finished sooner than later. There's a big enough mess, the type you don't know how to clean up.

He strides around the library, perusing the shelves as if they are new to him. He feels along the spines of books and drags his fingers along the wood. You watch him, waiting. For what, you don't know.

"Don't let me distract you," he says without looking at you as he slides out a volume. "As you were."

Your eyes flick down obediently. You try to refocus but forget where you were. You open the ledger to make notes as you restart the video. You can sense him lurking around the room, closer and closer as his silhouette blurs the edge of your vision.

The narrator continues their instruction as you open the transcript to follow along. Mr. Laufeyson inches closer and closer, walking just behind your laptop, then around one side of your desk before doubling back. Again, he looms behind the screen and strolls along the other side. And at once, he's behind you.

You tense as you feel him watching over your head. You keep your hand moving as you take notes, writing down words you don't process. Your pulse thrums in your temples as you feel him leaning over you. His hands rest on your shoulders and he kneads them as you sit frozen.

He bends further and further until you feel his breath on your crown. He nuzzles your hair as his hands trail slowly across your shoulders. They close loosely around your neck as he exhales with a groan. Just like the one you heard earlier.

You gulp against his grip as your pen stills and you stare blankly at the screen, the narrator hazing to a drone and the colours fogging together. You drop the pen and drag your hand up to touch his. He tuts as he lowers his head next to yours, his lips brushing your ear as he speaks.

"I didn't say stop," he slithers as heat scalds over you.

You shiver and remove your hand from his, reaching for the pen instead. You pick it up, trembling as you try to read your own writing, your chin pressing to his knuckle as he tightens his hold on you. It's just scribbles, broken lines and squiggled waves.

"Notice too, you did not either," he whispers against the shell of your ear and draws away, all once releasing you.

You gasp as he swiftly side steps and strides across the room. He retrieves the volume from the shelf and reclines across the chaise, lazily opening the pages with a sigh. You stare at him as he lingers, engrossing himself in the book as you forget all about the spreadsheets and negative balances.

👠

Mr. Laufeyson leaves without a word. A taunt in its own right. He’s toying with you impeccably. His every move, his every glance, even something as careless as breathing is a statement. He’s watching. He’s waiting. For something…

Your frustration boils over and you snap shut the lid of the laptop. You haven’t been able to focus since his intrusion. The weight of his hands on your throat remains even with him gone. At moments, it feels as if you are truly being strangled.

You get up and resign yourself to something less complicated. You near the door and stop to peek at the one attached to the study. It’s open still but you wouldn’t think to peer through it. Is he there still? Listening? Expecting something?

You go into the hall and descend, each step expecting Laufeyson to call you back, to reproach you for straying. You reach the bottom without obstacle and exhale. You hear noise in the kitchen and follow it.

Frigga is there, placing a rectangle tray on the counter. She is comfortable as she moves around lightly. She knows where everything is as she arranges her ingredients and tools. You admire her. You wish you had that confidence, especially now as you drown in uncertainty.

“Oh, darling, wonderful timing,” she praises as she looks up, “I thought to do some cooking before I go. I’m sure you know Loki is rather avoidant of doing so himself. Why don’t you join, hm?”

You blink and hesitate, glancing over your shoulder. It isn’t exactly work.

“Don’t you fret for him, if he has issue, I will take it up with him,” she dismisses your unspoken doubts. “Come, come, I want to share with you my best recipes.”

“Okay,” you cross to her. She is undeniable, besides, you don’t think Laufeyson would be pleased to hear if you were to reject his mother.

“Beer-marinated pork,” she announces, “roasted turnip and some hand-made bread, of course.”

You nod and twiddle your fingers. You’ve never had beer-marinated anything. Well, your culinary experience is lacking.

“Family recipes,” she explains, “adapted over the years. There was a time the bread was baked on rocks and the turnip would be roasted over embers. Imagine.”

She trills and spins around, gathering more supplies for her growing array. As she faces the counter again, she sighs.

“I much rather prefer the modern methods, of course. Not so tedious and Loki has ensured the best,” she goes to the stacked ovens embedded in the wall and sets the temperature, leaving the upper one to preheat. “A pity, such a nice kitchen and it’s barely used. That cook of his… she doesn’t know our recipes.”

You listen, too anxious to summon any sort of comment. She doesn’t seem to notice as she carries the conversation smoothly.

“Do you cook? You must,” she answers her own question, “we will make enough for you to take home for your father. If he can’t stomach beer, I can make a sauce.”

“Oh, that’s… that’s okay–”

“I insist,” she overrides you, “it’s a labour of love for me. I love cooking. That is the one thing Sif– his ex-wife wasn’t fond of. She was always at the stable.”

You nod, trying to unravel the story from the stray threads. Little by little, you learn more of the woman who used to live here. In your head, she is sophisticated and splendid. And the way the speak of her, they seem to mourn her as much as you do your own mother.

“We will need onion and some spices, we’ll mix it in with the beer for our marinade,” she instructs, “a bowl…” she turns to take a silver bowl from the nested stack.

She puts it before you and directs you. She stands back as she lets you do it yourself. It’s nice to have the simple tasks set out one by one, even if it feels as if she’s judging your every move. You submerge the pork chops to marinate and she turns your attention to the turnip.

“Be careful chopping, turnips can be difficult,” she girds.

You shy away from the large knife and the hard rutabaga. It’s not easy to saw through as you rock the knife this way and that. You only get halfway through before the blade sticks immovably.

“Allow me,” she takes over and with a jerk, finishes the chop. The turnip splits in two as the knife meets the thick cutting board. “A bit of elbow grease…”

“Mother, what are you up to?” Laufeyson enters with a hand in one pocket.

“Oh, you know, dear, I can’t leave you without dinner.”

“I have a cook,” he counters.

“Mmm, yes, but nothing like a homemade meal,” she tisks.

He looks at you as he nears. You wipe your hands on a dish cloth and wring it tight. Frigga continues on unbothered, turning one half of the turnip on its flat side and chopping it into chunks.

“She’s helping,” she says, “please don’t take her from me.”

“I didn’t say anything,” he shrugs, his lips slightly curving.

“You were thinking it,” she huffs, “she can take some time to cook. Perhaps, she should do so regularly. It would save you money.”

“But not time. She has other tasks.”

“You being the most onerous,” Frigga chirps as she transfers the chunks into the pan.

“Perhaps,” he does not look away from you as you twist the dish cloth to its limit. He slips his hand from his pocket and lets it brush up his shirt, “I am what you raised me to be.”

“I was saying to the darling earlier,” she ignores his snipe, “the next time you visit, you might bring her along.”

“Eh, next time…” Laufeyson swallows as his lips fall straight, “maybe…”

“You are going to visit, aren’t you?” Frigga whines, “you and your father, I don’t know why you just can’t get along.”

“I tried, mother, I did. You saw–” he stops himself, “it doesn’t matter.”

“It does. Very much. You’re family.”

“Are we? He’s disowned me more than he’s ever claimed me.”

“You’re too much alike, that’s your problem,” she chides, “and you’re both too stubborn to see it.”

“We will discuss this another time,” he says as he peeks at you again, “in private.”

“Should I…” you begin.

“Stay,” Frigga and her son command at the same time.

“I’m not sending her home empty-handed,” Frigga says, “so you will drive her home, yes? It will be too much to take on the bus.”

“Why, of course,” he accepts, “it would be my pleasure.”

“Mm, and the carpenter, he fixed the flower boxes already. A few loose nails,” she grins, “nice man, that one. I might recommend him to your father.”

Laufeyson pokes his tongue out as he squints. He turns his gaze back on you. You miss when he barely looked at you, when he hardly even acknowledged your existence. And yet, you're just the same. You can't say a word.

“I haven’t dealt with him much,” he says pointedly, “that is the house manager’s concern.”

“Probably better off,” Frigga snickers, “she won’t drive him away.”

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #au #maid au #series #dirty work #avengers #mcu #marvel #thor

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