#holy shit i did not know they could go THAT long without eating

[kennahjune]

Part 2 of my s3 Steddie :D

Tag list: @anaibis @marklee-blackmore @hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere @swimmingbirdrunningrock @clumsiluni @just-a-tiny-void @estrellami-1 @goodolefashionedloverboi @mugloversonly @skyewaytohell @lololol-1234 @conversationswithamillennial @maya-custodios-dionach @nuggies4life @luthienstormblessed @blu3stars @samsoble @finntheehumaneater @thatonebirthstone @bird-with-pencils @swiftielouie55 @queenie-ofthe-void @paintsplatteredandimperfect @monsterloverforhire @krazyperson @literatelobster @jaytriesstuff @hippieg1rl420 @beawritingbooks @nightoffury @irregular-child @colidamae @stevieboyscoffee @martinskis-lydias

Holy shit!! I’ve never made a tag list before?? Thank you guys sm for being so into it!! And without further ado;

…

Steve woke up with the initial thought of “what the fuck”. So he could automatically assume his day was going to go great.

Out of his room, down the hall, down the stairs, through the living room and into the kitchen is where he finds Jonathan and— oddly enough— Robin.

Steve was used to finding Jonathan with him after one of his “episodes”. Usually he or Nancy will help him through it the best they can, laying with him or sitting with him wherever he is.

The idea of Robin in his house doesn’t even occur to Steve as weird until Robin says, “Sorry for the intrusion, uh… you really freaking worried me, man.”

Steve blinked— then, without taking his eyes off of Robin, asked Jonathan “Where did I have my episode at last night?”

Jonathan had the decency to look sheepish about it. “Uh— pfsshh, you had it at work, Steve.”

“And how bad was it?” He looked at Jonathan.

“You collapsed and had to be carried to the break room to rest. And the fact that you don’t seem to remember much of anything is also saying a lot.”

Steve stood there, thinking long and hard about yesterdays events.

“I remember Billy coming in and saying something about Max. Then he said something about Dustin that pissed me off. I don’t know. After that… who the hell?..”

Munson.

Holy shit.

Jonathan must’ve clocked the moment of realization cause he walked over and patted him on the shoulder. “Yeah, man.”

Steve groaned and hurried his face in his hands. “That’s so embarrassing!” Was his muffled complaint. Robin— the asshole— had the nerve to snort at him.

“Hush, Buckley! Ugh I hate this.”

Jonathan was rubbing his back now, barely hiding his own snickers and laughs. “Come on—“

“I have to go,” Steve said quickly and went to turn around to leave.

“Where are you going? This is your house!” Robin retorted.

“I have to go apologize!”

Jonathan snagged Steve’s wrist and prevented him from going any further. “Go sit down, Steve. You can apologize later.”

Steve begrudgingly obliged, sitting at the small kitchen table that was usually used for his dads drinking. He crossed his arms and put his head down. He’d fucked up his vision again when he spun around too fast to leave. Jonathan sighed and came up to rub his back again. Physical touch helped Steve a lot during times like these. Especially during the vertigo.

Robin took the seat next to him. “So, two concussions? If you were having such a bad time why didn’t you just call in?”

“Cause I’m constantly late to work and the only reason I haven’t been fired and kicked on my ass is because you keep covering for me so I figured I had to return the favor,” he replied in one breath.

They were silent for a couple of minutes, just basking the each others presence. Until Jonathan stopped rubbing Steve’s back, let his hand rest there, and then patted between his shoulder blades twice before going over to the pantry.

“You need to eat something before you do anything. Robin can you get him a cup of water, please?”

Robin nodded and stood to get it. Steve groaned. “I can get my own water, Jon.” but he’d made no attempts to move from his seat. Jonathan muttered something about toast.

“Considering the fact that yesterday you just about passed out on your feet and how a few minutes ago you nearly fell over just by turning too fast, I’d like to differ.”

Steve huffed, knowing he was right. He heard the toaster start and glass was set down gently in front of him. He lifted his head and eyed the water.

“I didn’t poison the damn thing, dingus.” Robin tapped her fingers on the table.

Steve snorted and finally took the glass. He was done with it in seconds.

“Christ,” Robin muttered while refilling it for him.

When Steve was just about done eating his toast and downing another cup of water his house phone went off.

“I’ve got it.” Jonathan stood.

Steve shrugged and stood himself— slowly this time— to put his dishes away. Robin remained seated and watched him.

Jonathan huffed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Steve furrowed his eyebrows and walked over, trying to hear the conversation.

“Yeah— no I’ve got it, don’t worry. I love you to. Bye.” Jonathan hung up and sighed heavily.

“You alright?” Steve leaned on the wall next to him.

“Yep. Great. That was my mom, by the way. And apparently the kids are all on the loose in Forest Hills, looking for Eddie.”

What the fuck?

“What the fuck?”

“Yeah.”

“So…” Robin stood. “I’m going with Steve?”

…

Max was curious. They all were. Just who the hell was Eddie Munson? Steve had never mentioned him before, but from the looks of it both Jonathan and Steve knew him.

Will had wanted to ask Nancy about him, saying how Jonathan said they all went to school together, but Mike refused to ask Nancy about any of this other than asking about migraines.

So they were on their own.

Max took her skateboard and the boys took their bikes (Will riding with Mike) and the four of them made their way to the trailer park.

Max was running on borrowed time, telling Billy that she was going over to the Byers’. And if that’s not where she is in the next 2-3 hours when he comes to pick her up then she’s done for.

But it’s fine. They figure out where Eddie Munson lives in no time. It’s not a very big trailer park, and “Eddie Munson” seems to be a pretty recognizable name. A nice old lady named Miss. Bottomette pointed them right down the street from her own trailer.

The four of them made their way over, dumping their bikes (and skateboard) in the yard— not bothering with kickstands. Max and Mike shoved their way in front of the other two, both going to knock at the same time.

Mike gently shoved Max to the side when the door opened, now all three of them being behind him. Standing at the door wasn’t Eddie Munson, unless he’d aged 50 years in past 24 hours. The new man was a lot older, and was just a bit taller than Mike. He looked the four of them up and down before leaning on the doorway and crossing his arms.

“What can I help you kids with?”

Will gulped. He didn’t like adults and especially not ones with heavy western accents that look like they’d kill him if he so much as breathed wrong.

“Um— we’re just looking for an uh, an Eddie Munson, sir,” Max tagged on from behind Mike. Will reached over subtly and grabbed someone’s hand, he thinks it’s was Lucas’. Why the hell was this guy so scary?

The man had a gleam in his— something like amusement. It kind of pissed Mike off but he knew better than to get pissy with an adult he’d just met. Especially with how Will was reacting to him.

“Well,” the man chuckled, “I’m not sure what you kids need with ‘im, but he’s not here right now. So why don’t you go back home, huh?”

He went to close the door but Mike spoke up. “Wait! Please— we uh— we really, really need to talk to him. Even if it’s just for a couple of seconds!”

“If he’s not here do you know where he is?” asked Lucas.

The man studied them all closely, his eyes raking over them each individually. As if they were threats. Mike nearly scoffed to himself.

Finally the man gave in and sighed. “Why do you wanna see Ed so bad?”

Max tapped her foot really hard on the wooden porch. When everyone jumped and looked at her she put her hands up. “Sorry! Got excited.”

Lucas spoke up this time. “We, um— wanna thank him? And ask him a few questions I guess. He helped out one of our friends yesterday and we really really just want to talk to him, please. Sir.” he tagged on the “sir” like an after thought.

In the next few moments, they found themselves piling into the very small, very cramped trailer living room.

“I’m Wayne, by the way. Wayne Munson, Eddie’s uncle.” he finally introduced himself. He raised his eyebrow at them. Oh yeah, they have to introduce themselves as well.

“Oh! Um— I’m Lucas. Lucas Sinclair.”

“Er— Max Mayfield.” she crossed her arms.

“Mike Wheeler.”

“Um, uh—“ Will grabbed Mikes hand “—Will Byers.”

Mr. Munson’s eyes seemed to study Will extra hard. Mike gripped his hand and squeezed to let him know he was there. Even Max and Lucas moved in slightly closer to Will. They didn’t understand why this guy seemed to come off so mean.

“Hey Uncle Wayne! What’s taking you so long at the door, man?” The man of the hour showed his face at the end of a small hallway. His brain seemed to short circuit at the sight of all the kids in his very small and very cramped living room.

“Um, hi?” Lucas greeted awkwardly.

Eddie leisurely made his way into the room with him. “Aren’t you Harrington’s kids from last night?”

“We’re not his kids,” Mike grumbled under his breath. But he couldn’t deny the spike of joy that came with the title.

Mr. Munson looked at Eddie like he’d lost his mind. “Harrington’s kids?” he put extra emphasis on “Harrington”, as if it was actually so weird.

Max rolled her eyes.

“Yes, Harrington’s kids,” she said under her breath with heavy sarcasm.

Lucas shot her a glare and she grunted.

“Well—“ Eddie clapped his hands “—what can I help you kids with?”

Mike and Max eyed each other, trying to decide who was going to start. Turns out; it was Will.

“We wanted to talk to you about yesterday,” he spoke up timidly. Mike squeezed his hand.

“Ok,” Eddie accepted. “Hit me. What’s up?”

Lucas was the first this time. “Why were you so willing to help Steve?”

…

When Wayne went to get the door Eddie didn’t think it’d take 20 minutes. And he also didn’t think that going out to check on him would lead him to finding four little kids in his living room. More specifically Steve Harrington’s kids.

He should’ve known it was to be bombarded with questions.

“Why were you so willing to help Steve?”

Well shit.

“Cause I’ve had an undying crush on him since he first came to the high school in his freshman year and I wasn’t going to turn up a chance to help him out and maybe talk to him and then I realized it was actually a lot worse than I thought so I stuck around to make sure he was ok.”

Yeah absolutely not.

“Because he needed help. The guy couldn’t even stand on his own.”

Lucas eyed him but handed it over to Max.

“Why were you so chill about his migraine? I mean you said it yourself: he could barely stand on his own. Most people would’ve left the moment someone else got there if not before.”

Little Red held a strong point.

“Cause I knew he needed help. Simple as that.”

No. Not “simple as that”.

“Did you know him in high school? Back when he was dating Nancy?” Little Wheeler asked.

Now this; this was a conversation he really didn’t want to have. He sighed, maybe a little harsher than intended, and answered “Yes. I knew him in high school and when he was dating your sister.”

At this point Wayne had left to the kitchen. But Eddie knew he was listening in, making sure they didn’t cross any lines.

“So if you knew him in high school, when he was an asshole— don’t kick me he was!— then why were you so nice? Cause most people he talks to from high school seem to hate his guts.”

“Jonathan doesn’t hate his guts!”

“I said “most people”, Will!”

Well golly damn they hold a lot of good points today. Before he got to answering the question there was another knock on the door. Max flinched and moved closer to Lucas.

“I got it,” Wayne said as he made his way over.

When he opened the door Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, and Jonathan Byers were all there on the porch. Wayne looked back and forth between the two groups before sighing and saying, “Why don’t we all step outside? Trailer ain’t big enough for all of ya.”

So that’s where they all went, outside on the front yard. Wayne sat on the porch steps while Eddie hung back.

“What the hell was the point in this?” Asked Steve, scolding the kids.

“We just wanted to ask him some questions!” defended Lucas. Will hung back by Jonathan but nodded his head.

“Questions.” Steve deadpanned.

Max huffed and Steve’s glare turned on her. She crossed her arms and looked away, seeming to close in on herself.

Steve sighed and pinched his nose, turning around and grunting before turning back around. “Ok, here’s the game plan.” he clapped his hands. “You four—“ he pointed at each of the kids “— are going to apologize to Mr. Munson and Eddie.”

The kids all started to grumble and protest.

“AND THEN—“ he continued loudly over them, making them shut up “—you are going to all go home to your own houses. We will talk about this tomorrow when I don’t want to fucking strangle you.”

“I can’t.” Max huffed.

“Cant what?” Steve asked.

“Go home. Especially not with you. I told Billy I’d be at the Byers’ and he’s expecting me to be there in the next half hour.”

Steve’s entire face dropped and he rubbed a hand over his face. “Max.”

She folded her arms and looked down. Steve sighed and placed his hands on his hips. “Ok, it’s fine. Change of plans; we’re all going to the Byers’! You four go apologize now and then load your bikes and board into my car as best you can.”

Eddie stood through their half-assed apologies while Steve stood back conversing with Jonathan. When the kids made their move to get their bikes and skateboard Eddie moved over to stand next to Steve. While the kids loitered around for a moment. Steve turned on him when he noticed his approach.

“What were they bothering you about that was so important Max lied to Billy?”

Eddie smirked and answered “oh you know; questions.”

Steve groaned.

They stood in silence while Steve watched Jonathan quietly scold Mike and Max for something.

“You can use my van.”

“What?”

“My van. To bring their bikes? There’s no way in hell they’re all fitting into your’s or Byers’s car.”

Steve watched as Mike and Lucas argued about the bikes while Max and Will talked behind them. He sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face in agitation. Steve placed his hands on his hips again and hit the inside of his cheek. Eddie watched him closely, finally noticing the ruffled hair and the plain gray t-shirt and way to short basketball shorts.

“Did you come over here straight from bed?” he asked.

Steve looked at him, squinting in the sun. “Yeah? What of it?”

“Dude it’s like 2pm.”

“Migraines knock me out.” he shrugged.

Another moment of silence went by until Steve sighed. “If you really don’t mind, letting us use your van would be great.”

Eddie watched Mike’s bike fall out for the fourth time and nodded. Just in time for Mike and Max to both call out in a whiny tone “STEEEEVEEEE!!”

Steve huffed and whined back “WHAAAAAT?” Eddie snickered.

“The bikes aren’t going to fit!” Lucas yelled, throwing his bike on the yard.

“Yeah I realized that. Thankfully, Eddie’s very nice and has offered to let us use his van.”

Mike and Lucas’ eyes lit up. “Can we—“

“Absolutely not.” Steve shut them down. “You four are going to ride with Jonathan and Robin back to the Byers’ while I run around with Eddie to drop off your bikes.”

Eddie nodded, not knowing what else to do.

Mike huffed.

“Steve,” Max called out quietly. “You’re not dropping mine off, right?”

Steve’s face softened and he smiled at her exasperatedly. “No, Max, you can toss your board in Jon’s trunk.”

She nodded and looked hesitant to walk away. The boys had already gotten in the car, and with one look around Max gave in and quickly hugged Steve. He patted her back and ruffled her hair and then she ran off to the car.

With final goodbyes and a promise to Robin to just call in sick next time, Steve and Eddie were left alone, Wayne going inside to take a nap.

Steve clapped Eddie on the shoulder. “Looks like it’s just me and you now, Munson.”

Oh boy.

…

Guess I am gonna need that part three 😭😭

I’ll take tags for part 3 if you guys want :)

Part 3 :)

#stranger things #steve harrington #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #eddie munson #robin buckley #will byers #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #el hopper #jonathan byers #steddie hcs #steddie fics #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #bisexual steve harrington #gay eddie munson #the boys 🫶 #more not-really-a-jackass-mike :)

[buccini555]

𝐓𝐨𝐤𝐲𝐨 𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬: "𝐏𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲"

≡ You invited all your friends to your birthday party but only they came

♡ ⠂⠂୨୧ H e a d c a n o n s

⌕ 𝑭𝒕. Hanma Shuji, Kisaki Tetta, Takeomi Akashi, Wakasa Imaushi, Shinichiro Sano, Mitsuya Takashi, Hakkai Shiba and Taiju Shiba

𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝.𝟷 | 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝.𝟸

‧₊˚ ୨୧ ˚₊𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐦𝐚 𝐒𝐡𝐮𝐣𝐢‧₊˚ ୨୧ ˚₊

Just when you were losing all hope of anyone coming to your party, Hanma showed up completely late with some flowers in his hands.

"Happy birthday! Wait... Are you crying?" He wouldn't even realize how late he was, much less that there was no one there, however, as soon as he came to his senses, he realized that none of the guests had attended your party.

"What the fuck are they thinking? Damn! I'm sorry, but, well... At least I'm here with you, it's not a big deal, but at least I am." Even though Shuji didn't show his feelings much, he would be a little sad seeing you so hurt at your own birthday party, so he did his best to cheer you up, handing you the small bouquet of flowers and covering you with hugs and caresses throughout the day.

‧₊˚ ୨୧ ˚₊𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐤𝐢 𝐓𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐚‧₊˚ ୨୧ ˚₊

Kisaki would be the first guest to arrive at your party, he would shyly hand you your gift and kiss your cheek, as time passed, he realized that no one else would come.

"I'm sorry for no one came..." He would hug you, gently comforting you until you calmed down, that situation made him feel incapable, since the only thing he could do for you was just stay by your side.

"I'm not going to let those bastards ruin your birthday, we can celebrate together, I know I'm not the best person for this, but... I'll do anything for you." Kisaki would say, resting you on his chest and stroking your hair subtly, spending the rest of the day being affectionate like never before.

‧₊˚ ୨୧ ˚₊𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐨𝐦𝐢 𝐀𝐤𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢‧₊˚ ୨୧ ˚₊

Having spent the night before drinking, on your birthday Takeomi would wake up dazed from the feeling of post-drinking, for this reason, even if he was late, he couldn't help but attend your birthday party.

"I'm here, my little princess, do you think I would miss your birthday?" Takeomi would hug you as soon as you opened the door, without even noticing the fact that you were crying, however, when he realized that the room was empty and you were ending up in tears, the older realized that only he had attended to celebrate your party.

"Bunch of fuckers... No one came, right? No need to cry, I'm just here for you, hm? I'll teach them a lesson later..." Takeomi would speak, comforting you in any way he could, after that, he would celebrate your birthday by your side, even forgetting about his drinking headache.

‧₊˚ ୨୧ ˚₊𝐖𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐬𝐚 𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢‧₊˚ ୨୧ ˚₊

"Am I too early, my princess?" Wakasa would say when he arrived at your birthday party and saw that there was absolutely no one but you and he, at that same moment, you hugged him, when he observed the sadness in your expression, he realized that none of the guests had shown up.

"... Holy shit, how did they have the cowardice to do this to you? I'm not going to allow some useless people to ruin your birthday." He would speak in a low and crestfallen tone, caressing your face and gently wiping away each of your tears, even though the older didn't express himself so easily, he was definitely determined to make you happy again.

"I'm here... I don't want to see those beautiful eyes full of tears again." After comforting you and cheering you up at least a little, Wakasa and you would stay together, eating the party's sweets and snacks while he would hug and kiss you every minute.

‧₊˚ ୨୧ ˚₊𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐨‧₊˚ ୨୧ ˚₊

Shinichiro always took your birthday really seriously, always being the first to wish you a "happy birthday", for that reason, the boy would definitely be the first to attend your birthday party, giving you your favorite gift and some beautiful flowers, it would take a long time for Shinichiro to notice the disappointment in your eyes when he came to the conclusion that no one else would come to his birthday party.

"H-hey... Don't cry, don't let them ruin your party. I'm here, I'll always be..." The same would say with the intention of consoling you, then hugging you and giving you all the affection possible until you finally calm down.

Shinichiro would really be there for you and for you, celebrating your party as if nothing had gone wrong, you and him would have fun eating all the chocolate cake and cheese snacks.

‧₊˚ ୨୧ ˚₊𝐌𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐲𝐚 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢‧₊˚ ୨୧ ˚₊

Mitsuya would definitely take his little sisters to celebrate your birthday, being the first to arrive, Mana and Luna would give you your gift, right after, Mitsuya would wish you congratulations with a subtle kiss on your cheek, as time went by, no one in addition to the three, he had arrived at your celebration and as soon as the boy noticed the sadness in your eyes, he felt even worse.

"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry... But, we're here to celebrate with you." He would say, giving you a tight hug, trying to cheer you up even if it didn't seem possible.

Throughout the day, Mitsuya would try hard to keep you distracted from the event, you would actually have fun together even more with the presence of the sweet little girls, he would be as attentive as always, making you feel much better.

‧₊˚ ୨୧ ˚₊𝐇𝐚𝐤𝐤𝐚𝐢 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐚‧₊˚ ୨୧ ˚₊

"S-sorry! I ended up being so late that everyone already left-" You would interrupt Hakkai with a tight hug and as soon as he noticed your face full of tears, he would realize that no one had attended your party birthday, at that moment, the tallest just returned the hug, leaving the gift he had bought you aside for a brief moment.

"...I'm sorry, don't cry, please." He would say being heartbroken to see you crying exactly on the day you should be smiling, even without knowing what to do or how to act, Hakkai would be determined not to let that day end in even more sadness.

Hakkai would remain by your side throughout the day trying to cheer you up in any way he could, you would eat cake together and the taller one would spend the day telling you random facts about his stressful routine just to get a few smiles from you.

‧₊˚ ୨୧ ˚₊𝐓𝐚𝐢𝐣𝐮 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐚‧₊˚ ୨୧ ˚₊

"I hope I was the first to come and honor my little doll's birthday." Taiju really wasn't the affectionate type of guy, however, for your birthday, he would at least try to be less cold, ending up being the first to arrive and showering you with the most varied gifts and flowers of every color he could find, despite furthermore, when Taiju realized that time was passing and no one else showed up for his party, he began to get angry, even more so when he saw you crying because of this fact.

"You don't need to cry like that, I'm here! Then I'll personally try to teach your colleagues a lesson." Taiju would say in a serious and threatening tone, somewhat worried about your condition, his heart that felt like iron melted like butter when he saw how much it had affected you.

"God! How did they have the courage to do that to you..." He would finally give in and end up hugging you in search of comforting you, Taiju would become the most affectionate maid possible on that date to simply not end up destroying your long-awaited birthday.

#tokyo revengers hanma #hanma tokyo revengers #hanma shuji #hanma headcanons #kisaki tetta #kisaki tokyo revengers #kisaki headcanons #akashi takeomi #tokrev takeomi #takeomi akashi #wakasa headcanons #wakasaimaushi #wakasa imaushi #tokyo revengers shinichiro #shinichiro sano #shinichiro headcanons #mitsuya tokyo revengers #mitsuya headcanons #mitsuya takashi #shiba hakkai #hakkai shiba #hakkaihcs #tr taiju #taiju headcanons #taiju shiba #tokyo revengers #tokyorev headcanons #tokyo rev #tokyorevengersheadcanons #tokyo rev x you

[uhohnotthisagain]

Requited Love

Summary: Sam discovers his love for you in a not so clean dream, he doesn't realise his actions following the realisation would effect you so much.

Pairing: Sam Winchester x reader

Word count: 0.8k

Warnings: slight mentions of sex, angst, pining, makeout.

My Masterlists

Sam woke up in a sweat, but this time it wasn’t a nightmare. He could still feel the way your hands felt on his skin. The way your lips felt pressed against his. The way you felt wrapped around his cock. 

Holy shit was he actually thinking about his best friend that way. He rubbed his hands over his face before he felt movement next to him. He looked over at you sleeping, sprawled out with hair all over the place. You usually slept together in the same bed when out on a hunt. 

He tried his best to climb out of bed quietly so as not to disturb you, hoping a cold shower would rid him of those insane thoughts. 

–

Later, you’re all sitting at a diner, eating dinner. As you take a bite of your burger, Sam can’t help but notice the way your lips move as you chew, oddly attracted to the way they slightly pout when you chew. He shakes his head, trying to focus on anything but you. 

–

You and Dean are in deep conversation about which Led Zeppelin song is the best, sitting on the couch in the motel room whilst Sam does some research on the hunt. It was a pretty easy hunt so not a lot of effort was needed. Sam gave himself the excuse to get distracted. 

He watched the way your hair would swing when you talked to Dean, dramatically moving your hands as you spoke to emphasise your point. His eyes travel down your body, taking note of the way his old college t-shirt looked on your body, paired with the tight-fitting leggings that donned your lower half. 

He caught himself just before he started to imagine what you would look like without the clothes on. 

–

It was just you and Sam in the motel room. Dean had gone to the local bar for a few drinks, both you and Sam opting to stay in for the night. You couldn’t help but feel a little down. You noticed a few days ago that Sam hadn’t been talking much. You didn’t take much notice until you realised he was still talking to Dean, but seemed to be avoiding you. You didn’t know what you had done, but you were starting to feel self-conscious about your actions, trying to think of what you could have done to upset him. 

Sam was still sitting at the table, hunched over his laptop. You were watching some random movie that was on TV, not watching it properly. Your mind was too occupied trying to think of ways to get Sam to forgive you.  

“Sam?” You called to him. He hummed in response. 

“Did I do something?” He turned to look at you. “What?”

“Did I do something to hurt you?” He stared at you like you had two heads. “Of course not. Why would you think that?” 

“Because in the last week, you’ve barely spoken ten words to me. If I’ve done something wrong please tell me. I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me. You’re my best friend. I can’t not talk to you. I’m going crazy here.” You let out a frustrated breath after your short ramble. “I’m sorry for whatever it is I did. I’m sure it was unintentional and I won’t do it again.” Sam is looking down at his fidgeting hands, debating what to do next. “Listen, Y/N. You didn’t do anythi-” “Obviously I have! You haven’t spoken to me in a week. I’ve been putting up with Dean this entire time because you won’t talk to me. I don’t think I can handle this much longer.” Sam didn’t realise how much this was effecting you. He finally did when he noticed the tears streaming down your face. 

“Tell me what I can do to fix it.” You whispered, afraid that if you spoke any louder, it would come out in ugly sobs. 

Sam let himself debate his actions for one last second before making a decision. He took two long steps towards you before cupping your face in his hands, smashing his lips to yours. 

It took a second for you to respond, and Sam was about to pull away before you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. You stayed like that until you had to pull away for air. “What was that?” You whispered. 

“I realised a week ago that I was in love with you. And I didn’t know what to do. I guess keeping my distance was the wrong way to go.” Sam whispered back. “Yeah, it was.” You respond, pulling him back down for another kiss. He wraps his arms around your waist, tapping your hip to signal for you to jump. He instantly catches you, and carries you towards the couch, sitting down with you straddling him. 

“Ew, what the fuck guys. A heads up would’ve been nice.” You hear from behind you. You turn to see Dean standing at the door, hand over his eyes. “Yeah, I’m sleeping in the Impala tonight.” He turns around and walks out without another word. 

“Should we go get him?” You ask Sam, not moving to get off of his lap. “Maybe in a few hours,” He responds, pulling you back in for another kiss. 

#sam winchester #supernatural imagines #supernatural #sam winchester x reader #sam x reader #winchester #sam winchester imagines #spn

[rivatar]

Can I make a request for dilf!JakexFemale! Omatikaya!reader?

While Neytiri is out hunting with the kids, jake makes his way to readers hut. And let’s just say reader is shorter than Neytiri so size kinkkkk🤭

Guilty Pleasure

MDNI!🔞

Pairing: Dilf!Jake!Sully x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Warnings/content: SMUT, jake cheating(sorry Neytiri), size kink, stalking/obsessing, some roughness/power over reader, oral/face sitting (Jake being a pussy eating king), p in v, cream pie, dirty talk, a sprinkle of angst at the end

W/c: 3.2k (holy shit-)

A/n: thank you for this request anon!!💖 I am a SUCKERRRR for dilf Jake! I got a lil carried away heheh but I hope y’all enjoy this! Comments, likes, and reblogs are SO appreciated! Muah 😘

“We will see you later, ma’Jake,” Neytiri sweetly said while motioning for the kids to go out of the hut, holding up the flap of fabric for them to walk by. Neteyam and Lo’ak went first, throwing a hand up and bidding a short “Bye, dad,” with their bows in hand.

“Come with us daddd!” Tuk whined and ran up and clung to his side. He chuckled at her.

“I’d love to, kiddo, but I gotta take care of something. Ya know, all my boring adult responsibilities,” He smiled gently.

She frowned up at him but had no choice but to accept he wasn’t coming.

“Bring me back a big ‘angtsìk(hammerhead titanothere)!” He joked while bending over and ruffling her short braids in an attempt to cheer her up. She giggled at his absurd request and ran off to catch up with Lo’ak and Neteyam.

Kiri came moping out and rolling her eyes like usual, she was not excited that she was being forced to go hunt with them. It just wasn’t her thing. She gave Jake a quick “Bye” and walked out without looking at him.

“I love you too!” He laughed, “You’ll do great!” He cupped his mouth and shouted to her. She looked over her shoulder and couldn’t suppress her small little grin of amusement. She pretty much always blatantly disrespected him but he loved her to death.

Neytiri smiled one last time at him before ducking under the flap, following her kids to go off to their hunt.

Jake’s smile faded from his face once they were out of sight.

He had a lovely wife and an amazing family—everything he could ever want and dream for. But unfortunately for him, his heart yearned for someone else. Someone who occupied his thoughts day-in and day-out, consuming his entire being.

He started to resent you for how bad he wanted you. But how could he blame you? You’ve done nothing. Nothing but just be utterly and effortlessly perfect. He felt like you casted a spell on him, damning him to be desperate for you. You were quite the sight to see; young and beautiful in all your glory. He could worship your body all day— the stunning curves of your hips and the rounding of your breasts. You were short in stature, not tawtute short but very much on the short side for a na’vi girl. But that just made Jake be drawn to you even more. During his endless daydreams involving you, he would have some particular thoughts of you. Images flooded his mind of getting to manhandle you around. He was bulkier than the average na’vi due to the combination of his human DNA, so he had no doubt in his mind he could toss you around effortlessly in several different positions. He also inevitably thought about how much tighter your smaller pussy probably was. And fuck, it wasn’t just your stunning appearance— it was also the way you were so damn sweet and compassionate to others. You never did anything wrong, it was like you really were perfect.

He longed to touch you and pleasure you, he would die a happy man if he could just watch you cum for him. It wasn’t even that he wanted the pleasure for himself, more than anything he wanted to pleasure you. So many scenarios have ran through his mind of imagining how your pretty face would scrunch up as an orgasm wracked through your petite body. He felt like he was loosing his mind, he hasn’t had this many vulgar, horny thoughts constantly since he was probably 17. It was like you made him young again. He wanted to show you how good he could make you feel. After all, he was experienced. Whether it was keeping Neytiri’s needs satisfied or previous lessons from his sexual partners back on earth, he’s learned a thing or two over time. He wondered if you’ve let any of the omatikaya boys fuck you. He hoped not, but he was sure they were all throwing themselves at your feet. I mean who the hell wouldn’t?

Jake had been stalking you for quite some time now. He pretty much had your daily schedule memorized and he’s even learned all your little mannerisms. Like how you looked down at the ground when you laughed, or how you quietly hummed to yourself when you were weaving. Sometimes throughout the day you would make eye contact when passing by each other. He noticed you would give him a little smile. It was like you knew you were torturing him.

But watching you from a distance and stalking you wasn’t cutting the mustard anymore for him. Sure, it satisfied the itch at first but it left him only wanting more. And stroking his cock to you felt good, but not as good as your soft, dainty hand would feel doing it.

He knew Neytiri was taking the kids hunting today to let them practice. And at this time of day, you were usually in your hut. He decided there wouldn’t be a more perfect time than now to approach you. He couldn’t let this keep eating him alive, he had to do something about it. So, he gathered up the courage to start his way over to you.

…

You were in your hut, cooling off a little. It was a hot, sunny day in Pandora and you always take a midday break around this time. Right before you were going to sit down, you seen a figure in your peripheral vision. It was… Jake?

“Jake.. I-I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” you stuttered and shifted to face him respectfully, caught off guard by your leader entering your hut. “Is something wrong?”

He stood confidently, almost like he owned the place— I mean he was the Olo’eyktan. Which was why you felt concerned and surprised to see him, surely it must be something important if he took the time to come here.

He surveyed you as you stuttered and slightly fidgeted with a hint of amusement in his eyes. His piercing gaze burned right through you, making you feel small and embarrassed. But he was the one coming into your home, so why were your cheeks heating up in embarrassment?

He finally broke the silence and breathed out a sigh. “Yeah, I’m afraid something is wrong,” he spoke with that low, sultry voice of his and once again burned holes into you with his eyes. He took slow steps towards you, casually.

Your heart dropped to your stomach and the blood left your face. “W-What is it? I’m sorry if I’ve done something wrong, sir-“

“Don’t play dumb and innocent. You know exactly what it is.” He cut you off sharply.

You were taken aback, eyes widening in offense. “Excuse me?” You scoffed.

He kept inching closer and closer to you and you backed up in return, scowling at him. But unfortunately you backed up against the wall, having no more room to back up.

He was eyeing you down fiercely, power and authority exuding from his aura. But you weren’t a pushover, and you gave it your best effort at holding his eyes and not cowering.

He swiftly grabbed your wrist and shoved your hand on his hard erection covered by his loincloth. You gasped, once more taken aback.

“Understand?” He quipped.

You snatched your hand back and hissed at him. You were unable to form any words, so shocked at this predicament. Your scowl deepened and your breathing picked up, feeling the intensity in the atmosphere.

He let out a single chuckle of disbelief and shook his head.

“You do this to me. It’s your fault” he snapped, “You’ve been torturing me night and day and you know it” he accused with his pointer finger in your face.

Your mouth dropped a little, eyebrows scrunched in anger. “What?? I’ve done nothing! You’re fucking crazy!”

“You are such a little brat. Sounds like you need that attitude fucked out of you,”

You couldn’t help the coil that twisted in your stomach to his words. The obscenity of them made your body react with a mind of its own. Slick trickled out of your hole, making a little wet patch in your cloth.

His nose twitched and he grinned menacingly at your new smell of arousal. “Is that right? The lil’ slut needs her pussy stuffed with cock?”

Your cheeks heated up, making a purplish color on your face. You were losing this battle quickly. You blamed your body for betraying you so shamefully.

“Fuck you!” You finally said. It was your last attempt at trying to get the upper hand.

“Yeah,” he laughed, “That’s the plan.”

You scoffed again, still trying to make it seem like he was crazy and you didn’t want this. But in reality, you don’t think anything has ever piqued your interest more.

He put his fingers inside the band of your loincloth, tickling the soft area below your belly. Your heart thudded hard inside your chest and more waves of arousal coursed through you.

He slowly and lightly teased the area, making your breath hitch slightly.

“Not stopping me, I see,” he quietly mocked.

Your let your eyes fall to his chest which was right in front of you. You didn’t want to see the smug grin on his face.

“Now what if I touch your little pussy? Is she gonna blow your cover?” He taunted some more. You swallowed roughly as his fingers traced further and further down into your cloth until he got to your soaked cunt.

He ran a finger up your slit, eyes dilating as he basked in the incredible feeling of your slick pussy. Your legs parted on their own, giving him easier access and you whined softly, leaning your head back against the wall.

“Fuck…” he breathed out, seemingly losing his control.

Your half lidded eyes met his again as he ran his fingers through your folds. You knew you were at the point of no return.

“Please..” you mewled quietly.

Trying to regain control of the situation, he straightened up and cleared his throat, still continuing his touching. “Oh so the brat has manners now?”

“Mhmm” you hummed shamelessly, pride be damned.

He licked his lips and looked down at your pretty lips, just waiting to be kissed. But he had other things in mind.

He yanked down your loincloth and it fell to your ankles then you kicked it aside. Then suddenly he knelt down and hitched one of your legs over his muscular shoulder, much to your surprise. You gasped hard at the first stroke of his tongue on your pussy lips.

“Oh!” You cried

You grabbed his dreads for support because your knees already felt weak. Looking down at him, the sight was purely sinful. He lapped, licked, sucked, and kissed all over your cunt, slurping up all your juices and making a complete mess on his face. He hummed and moaned on it, creating vibrations which elevated your pleasure.

He pulled back only for a second, your juices falling down his chin and painting his blue skin with white and clear shimmer. “You taste so fucking sweet, even better than I imagined,” he groaned in near disbelief. Then he continued working his mouth on your pussy.

You felt so good, feeling the most ecstasy you’ve ever felt. You’ve had a few partners and of course masturbate when needed but nothing and nobody has ever felt like this. He knew exactly where to go and how much pressure to apply and suck at.

He stuck a finger in your hole while he continued lapping on your clit. You moaned and fought to keep yourself standing up. He caught onto your struggle and swiftly moved to reposition you both. He laid himself back against the ground and had his hands hooked around you, bringing you down with him to then plop you right on his face.

Sitting on his face was much more comfortable and you tried to hold yourself up to hover some, but he grabbed your ass and pushed all your weight down on him. You switched between watching him do his thing and throwing your head back, closing your eyes and welcoming all the sensations. All his sounds were muffled but looking behind you and seeing his still rock hard erection and watching his feet curl and his legs dance around told you that he was very much enjoying himself.

You knew your orgasm was about to come. The pleasure was coming to a peak and you relaxed and let it happen. You came with a loud and drawn out moan, thighs shaking from the intensity. His humming got louder as he licked up all your essence, drawing out your high but letting off before you got overstimulated.

You rose off and scooted back a little to sit on his chest, looking down at his absolutely soaked face.

“Holy fuck,” you breathed out roughly, trying to catch your breath, “you didn’t tell me you were a pussy eating expert”

He chuckled with that deep voice of his, making your pussy flutter. “You thought the old man wouldn’t know how to eat pussy? Baby girl I am very experienced,” he winked.

You rolled your eyes at his cockiness, trying not to smile. Before letting you fully catch your breath, he sat up and effortlessly carried you with him, you were like a little rag doll in his huge, bulky arms. He hung you over one of his shoulders, ass up in the air. He smacked it and you let out a little yelp of surprise and smacked his back in return.

“You are so tiny, ya know that?”

You rolled your eyes once again. “Yes, everyone loves telling me how short I am” you complained.

“Mhmm well I think it’s hot as fuck”

He set you down on the table and you were facing him, legs spread out and pussy on full display. His eyes drank in the sight of your most intimate part, being fully captivated by you. You then took the reigns and slipped off your skimpy top, leaving him even more speechless. You smirked in satisfaction at how pussy whipped he was already.

He didn’t fail to notice your shit-eating grin and quiet laugh. “Oh yeah? You won’t be laughing much longer,” he threatened while untying the strings of his loincloth, letting it fall to the floor.

And it did in fact shut you up. He was huge. Your jaw hung low like an idiot and he laughed at you.

“You’re not that big. I’ve had bigger.” You lied, trying to sound confident.

He narrowed his eyes and felt a pang of jealousy at the thought of someone else getting to fuck you. “That so? Well then you should have no problem taking me,” he taunted.

You were nervous about how it would hurt but you put on a brave face. You spread your legs wider and gave him doe eyes as an invitation to go ahead.

His bigger body hovered over your small frame as he positioned his cock at your entrance. He teased your folds and your opening, making you buck your hips up in an effort to get him inside of you. His cockhead breached into your hole and you gasped in unison. He was so thick and girthy, the stretch against your walls was one you’ve never experienced this intensely.

He sank in deeper, thrusting a little to help break it in. You winced and moaned but stayed relaxed and let him keep going. He finally bottomed out. Then pulled back and started thrusting.

Your eyes widened and your jaw fell slack. The drag against your walls and the pressure his dick provided on your cervix made you nearly see stars, clouding your vision in a bit of a haze.

“Mmmm!! ‘s so good!” You slurred drunkenly, choking on your moans and cries.

He grunted and moaned above you, keeping a steady rhythm as his balls slapped against your ass.

“Holy shit” he gritted between his teeth, slightly baring them at you while he got caught up in the passion. He squeezed his eyes shut and his head slumped down, hanging from between his shoulders. “You’re gonna make me cum too quick” he panted.

You moaned in response, loving how you were breaking him. He cupped both your tits and gave them a squeeze, edging both of you on more.

“More!! Please!” You didn’t really know what you were asking for but he seemed to know right away.

He pulled out quickly and swiftly flipped you over, pulling you from the hips to scooch your ass up against him. He entered you again easily and plunged all the way in making you moan loudly.

“Cum on this dick, baby,” he grunted as he then started a fast and hard pace, increasing it from the previous pace.

His dick was now reaching so far up into you and satisfying all your sweet spots. He was fucking into you like a bunny in heat, hiking up one of his legs and placing his foot on the table to have a better grasp on you and a better angle to fuck you.

“Fuckkkk!” You screamed, getting your cervix pounding into over and over again. You felt your walls convulsing around him and knew you were getting close.

He pushed your head down into the table, his enormous hand pretty much engulfing the entire size of your head. Your hair fell around your face and was scattered in a complete mess.

“Shit baby, you’re close, huh?” He groaned.

“Yesss! Don’t fucking stop!” You begged and whimpered.

And then you felt your coil snap. The waves of sweet release spread throughout your whole body. Your pussy’s grip on his dick tightened, making him cum right after you.

“Nghh- gonna fill you up” he moaned while still bringing your ass back to meet his hips, slowing down and milking out both your orgasms. His hot cum spurted into your womb, filling you up just like he said.

He finally stopped his slow thrusts and pulled out gently making you whine as you felt some of his cum seep out.

He stepped back to admire his work, taking a mental screenshot of your cream pied cunt. He used his thumb to gather what had dripped and pushed it back into you.

“Your pussy looks best with my cum in it,” he admired.

You rolled over to your side, completely exhausted. You looked at him expectantly, wanting him to lay with you now.

He got your message by the look in your face. “I’m sorry baby but I gotta leave now. As much as I’d rather be stuffed inside you, I gotta get back to my place before my-“ he paused, looking physically pained, “before my family gets back home.”

Of course, you thought to yourself, how the fuck could you forget? Guiltiness flooded your heart, making it physically ache for his wife and kids. You felt terrible. You never liked a homewrecker and now you were a complete hypocrite and felt like a whore.

“Yes, o-of course… I’m sorry,” you offered weakly.

He weakly smiled as a response, pain still in his eyes as the post-nut clarity washed over him and guiltiness attacked his conscious as well.

“I’ll see you later, y/n.” And with that he left your hut.

Taglist: @neteyamssyulang @bambithewriter @professional-yapper @anemonelovesfiction @property-of-neteyam @luvv4j4ybe11 @loakstahni @fluorynn @zafrinaxyz @live-laugh-neteyam @nonamevenus @inolaphoenix @ladykat73 (if you wanna be added or removed, just lmk!)

#atwow #avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar smut #avatar fanfiction #jake sully #dilf jake sully smut #atwow jake sully #jake sully x na'vi reader #jake sully x you #jake sully smut #jake sully x reader #dilf jake sully #dilf jake sully x reader #adnama’s requests💖

[gigabyte-flare]

There's No Escape (Part 2)

Part 1

Summary: Just when you start to get comfortable in your new lease on life, your past comes rushing back to chase you down. Literally.

Pairing: yandere!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Word Count: 2.8k

If any of the warnings below trigger you, please kindly pass on this fic 

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life; if you feel this way, please go touch grass

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT OR I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL YEET YOU INTO THE GODDAMN SUN. Thank you!

Warnings (may not apply to all parts): Sex, gaslighting, swearing, stalking, acts of violence, blood, dubcon, kidnapping, pet names (baby, doll, angel, sweetheart, etc.), PTSD triggers, unprotected sex, forced breeding, daddy kink, manipulation, oral (m and f receiving), choking, overstimulation, knife play, gunplay, masterbation. Long story short, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. More warnings may be added in the future

Tags: @lipglossanon, @ghostkennedy, @hxllfiredoll, @nexyswrites, @ilookatlater, @shroomietrip (Shoot me a message or an ask if you want to be added to the list!)

A/N: First off, holy shit thank you so much for over 300 notes on Part 1! This community is one of the nicest I've ever been apart of, I appreciate all of you! Again, please excuse any grammatical errors in here. Dinner is officially served!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You had slept like a goddamn rock for the last few nights

They were the first nights in three months where you were able to get a full night’s sleep without getting abruptly woken up to Leon touching you. You recall at first it was fun, he was an absolute monster in bed; unfortunately as time went by you realized he was quite literally a monster. Each night that he was home, his sexual advances became more and more twisted. Especially that one time he made you suck the end of his loaded handgun.

You’ll never forget the sick grin on his face as he watched your helpless expression.

You jolt yourself awake and shake your head, dispelling the awful memory with it. You were safe now, well away from him. You slowly sat up and stretched your arms out over your head and let out a loud yawn. You slip out of bed and put on a pair of slippers before walking out into the kitchen. Becky was standing at the island reading the newspaper and chewing on a piece of toast.

“Mornin’!” says Becky with a mouthful of toast.

You give her a nod in response as you make your way to the fridge. You grab the jug of orange juice and grab a cup from the cabinet to fill. You fill the cup before putting the jug back into the fridge.

“Still no sign of him, right?” Becky asks.

“Thankfully no, he’s definitely back at his apartment by now. Haven’t heard a peep.”

You can only imagine how violent his reaction to you being gone was. He absolutely hated it when things didn’t go exactly as he wanted. That’s fine, he can have his hissy fit in D.C.. You took gradual sips from the orange juice before discarding the empty cup into the sink.

“Got work today?” Becky inquires.

“Yeah.”

Becky was able to secure you a tech support job at a law firm for when you moved into Boston. You were extremely grateful for that. Thankfully you had saved up money prior to Leon forcing you to quit your job in D.C., but that money was starting to wear thin. The job was entertaining from what you gathered in the last couple days. Lawyers were extremely tech illiterate to the point where it was almost impossible not to laugh on the phone. 

You go back into your bedroom to get dressed into a polo shirt and a pair of jeans with sneakers. You put your hair up in a ponytail before going into the bathroom to put some light makeup on. Work was extremely close by, you could walk to it, which you decided to do since the weather was so nice. You get into your cubicle and start taking calls.

“Did you charge it last night?”

“Thank you for calling tech support, how can I help you?”

“Hi, yes? My laptop won’t turn on.”

“You know what, no I didn’t. I bet the battery’s dead. Thanks!”“Thank you for calling tech support, how can I help you?”

“My mouse doesn’t work.”

“Is it plugged in?”

“Of course it’s plugged in! I’m not an idiot-- oh… wait… it’s not plugged in. Sorry to bother you.”

“Thank you for calling tech support, how can I help you?”

“Found you, sweetheart.”

Your eyes widen as you hold your breath. This has to be some kind of sick joke. You regain your composure and hang up on the caller; it sounded like Leon but you weren’t 100% sure. You try to track the number they called from, but it came up as an unknown caller. Whoever it was, they were using a burner phone number. The phone rings again immediately and you answer it.

“Who are you and what do you want?!” you scream into your headset.

“Whoa hey, what the hell!? I’m calling because my internet’s not working!” they say, the person clearly being a different caller.

You log out of the call queue to collect yourself. You rub your face into your hands. You hear footsteps walk over to your cube and you look up and find your boss standing there.

“Oh my god… I’m so sorry,” you rub your eyes before continuing, “I just had a prank call. Did you try restarting the router?”

“Oh ok, no worries! No I haven’t, I’ll do that now, thank you miss!”

“Everything alright here? I thought I heard you yell,” your boss asks.

“Yeah sorry, there was a prank caller. I think they were using a burner phone to call in.”

“Ah ok, that doesn’t usually happen here but there’s a first for everything. Definitely take a breather before you log back in, ok?”

You give your boss a nod before he walks away. Before logging back into the queue, you look into the call history. Your stomach drops when you see that the unknown caller called your phone directly, not into the tech support line.

It was just a prank caller, don't psych yourself out, you think to yourself as you close your eyes and take a deep breath.

There was absolutely no way Leon could have found out where you worked that quickly, it had to be a prank.You log back into the tech support queue and finish out your day thankfully with no other prank calls.

Even though your apartment was a 10 minute walk, you decide to order a taxi instead, the prank call still making you anxious. When the taxi driver arrives, you confirm your address for him and he takes you home, the drive takes less than 5 minutes. You thank and pay the driver and quickly enter your apartment. 

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Leon was thankful that you hadn’t turned around and seen his familiar lifted Jeep Wrangler with tinted windows parked across the street from your apartment as he watched you hurry inside. He turned his attention to the laptop he had open on the passenger’s seat. After a few keystrokes, several camera feeds popped up on the screen. 

At some point when you and Becky were both out in the last couple of days, Leon had broken into the apartment and installed several hidden cameras. He enlarged one of the cameras where both you and Becky could be seen standing in the kitchen and enabled the audio.

“Hey! How was your day?” Becky asks.

“Eh, it was alright,” you reply, “I got the creepiest prank call today.”

A smirk began to cross Leon’s lips.

“It wasn’t him, was it?” Becky inquires, the concern evident in her voice.

“No way! There is no way he figured out where I went that fast.”

Leon let out a laugh, “Underestimating me is your first and last mistake, dear.”

“I’m going to take a quick shower. Want me to order pizza when I come back out?” you ask.

“Yeah sure!” Becky replies.

Leon immediately switches the camera feed to one that is inside a vent above the shower. He hears you enter the bathroom and shut the door. As he hears the ruffling of clothes, he begins to undo the belt on his jeans, grasping his hardening cock in his left hand. He sees your arm reach into the shower to turn it on and let it warm up. 

If only you knew that you were putting on a personal show just for Leon to enjoy. Picturing your horrified expression only aroused him even more.

Your naked form then came into frame, his cock pulsing in excitement as he began to stroke it vigorously. His eyes were glued to the laptop screen as you lathered soap onto yourself. He began to let out quiet whimpers as he got closer and closer to his release, the whimpers getting progressively louder. Suddenly, with a shudder of his body, he let out a guttural moan and came all over his hand and his jeans. His moment of euphoria was short lived as the disgust of having cum all over himself overtook him. He slammed the laptop shut, grabbed a small towel from the back seat and wiped the cum from his hand and jeans as best as he could before throwing the towel back to the backseat. 

His ice cold eyes glare at your apartment door before he starts the engine in his Wrangler, driving off into the Boston night. 

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

You and Becky decide to go out that weekend into Chinatown to get hot pot. Becky knew of a great restaurant called Shabu Zen, she claimed they had the best hot pot in town. You haven’t had hot pot before, so you were going to have to take her word for it.

You both enter the restaurant and the hostess seats you two in the corner. You sit on the side where your back was to the wall, you never wanted your back exposed, ever. Your waiter comes over and takes your order for drinks, Becky ordered a margarita, you simply just asked for water.

“We got through the first week in Boston together!” Becky exclaims, lifting her glass, “a toast to being Bostonians and no creepy ass ex-boyfriends!”

“Hell fucking yeah, my friend!” you respond, raising your glass of water and clanking it against her margarita.

The waiter comes back over, and you both put in your order of broth and meats that you’ll be having for hot pot. You two make small talk about work before the waiter comes back over a short time later with plates full of different veggies, noodles and meats. Another waiter behind him sets the broth on the burner in the middle of the table and turns the burner on. 

“For real though, thank fuck you got out of there when you did, I know you haven’t told me everything that fucking prick did to you but… I’m just glad you’re not dead.” Becky states as she starts piling food into the broth.

“I know… I still need to look up a therapist that I can go to so I can move on. I feel like I close my eyes and his face is the only thing I see.”

Becky scoops out noodles, meat and veggies out from the broth and starts eating, “Who would have thought such a hot dude would turn out to be a fucking psychopath.”

“It’s always the ones you least expect, Becky. I should have seen the red flags,” you say as you also scoop food out from the broth. 

Your eyes happen to wander around the restaurant to the other patrons as you slurp up noodles; it was mostly younger people with one older couple seated at the table next to yours. Your eyes settle on a dark corner of the restaurant where you see a man seated by himself. You stop mid bite, your eyes locked on the man. You recognize his short dirty blonde hair immediately. His cobalt eyes burned into your skin. He was even wearing that fitted black shirt that you used to love so much. There is no doubt in your mind, Leon is in the restaurant.

Becky notices your freaked out expression immediately, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You blink a few times to make sure he wasn’t a figment of your imagination. Much to your dismay, he wasn’t. You watch a devilish smirk spread across his lips before he puckers his lips at you.

You suddenly dig your wallet out of your purse, throwing several twenties onto the table before getting up, “we have to go. Now.”

“Wait, what? What’s going on?”

“No time, we need to leave,” you grab Becky by the arm and practically drag her out of the restaurant. 

You both bolt onto the sidewalk and you walk briskly down the street towards the depths of Chinatown, still pulling Becky along.

“Are you going to tell me why you just dragged me out of Shabu Zen?”

You look back and see Leon step out of the restaurant; he looks around and quickly spots you and Becky, giving chase.

Becky, seeing your panicked expression, looks back and sees what has you spooked, “Holy fucking shit how did he fucking find you?!”

“I don’t know but we need to lose him, got any ideas?”

“Yeah, let's get to the Orange line. We’ll lose him in the subway system.”

Becky grabs your hand and leads the way running. You occasionally look back, each time your heart sinking as you see Leon’s face in the crowd, running after you. Having a military background, it wouldn’t take him long to catch up.

Thankfully, you both get to the Chinatown stop for Boston’s T subway system and bolt down the stairs.

“Listen to me carefully, it’s going to get awfully confusing so I need you to follow me closely, ok?” Becky says, looking back as she scans her Charlie card and goes through the gate.

“Yeah, got it.”

Becky throws her Charlie card to you. You scan it and get through the gate and catch up to Becky. You turn around just in time to watch Leon vault over the subway gate with the grace of a panther. Thankfully, the next train was just pulling in as you two got to the train platform, you both bolt inside one of the cars and try to cram yourselves into the most crowded car.

“Ok, we need to get off at Downtown Crossing, then we pick up the Red line to Park Street and get on the Green line there. Then, we get off at Government Center which will then loop us back to the Orange line, ok?” Becky explained quietly.

You nod before scanning your eyes through the car, but you can’t tell if Leon’s on the train, you’re just going to have to assume that he is.

“Next stop, Downtown Crossing.” the T PA system called out.

“Ok, here’s our stop, as soon as those doors open, we make a b-line to the Red line to Alewife.”

As if on queue, the doors open and you and Becky practically launch yourselves out of the car, you don’t bother to look back to see if Leon is following you. Becky has a vice grip on your hand as you both get to the train platform for the Red line. Again luck was on your side, the doors for the Alewife train just started to open and you and Becky dove inside one of the cars and, once again, made your way to the most crowded car.

You repeated this same maneuver again at the Park Street stop and again at Government Center. Just like Becky had said, that eventually led back to the Orange line, which you both took back towards Forest Hills, getting off at the Back Bay stop, which thankfully was close to your apartment. You both ascended the stairs to the street level and stopped to take a breather.

“Holy shit I can’t believe that worked, where do you think we lost him?” you ask.

“I don’t know, once we were on the first train in Chinatown, I stopped looking for him.”

“Me too.”

When you both finally could catch your breaths, you proceeded to walk down the street back to your apartment.

Neither of you would be sleeping that night.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

He lost track of you and your friend after getting off at Park Street. He ascended the stairs to the street, kicking a trash can over in frustration. You were so close to being back in his grasp.

And you would have been if it weren’t for that bitch, Becky. He knew that she smuggled you up here away from him, convinced you to leave him. She filled your head with nasty lies about him, she must have, why else would you leave him? He let his anger boil inside him as he walked down the street. He couldn’t help but notice several women gawking at him as he strolled down the street. He winked at some of them, seeing them visibly swoon at him. Oh how he enjoyed toying with their hearts.

It was a small bit of enjoyment he had since the world started to repeatedly fuck him over. First it was his new life in Raccoon City, then Operation Javier, then the incident in Spain with Los Illuminados. It was a couple years after returning from Spain that he met you at a bar in D.C., you had noticed him sitting alone at the bar and walked over and talked to him. It was the first ounce of normalcy he ever felt in his life since he graduated from the Police Academy. When you two started dating, that was when he decided he was never going to lose you, no matter the cost. 

Again, his thoughts returned to your friend Becky. She took your princess away from him.

And she was going to pay dearly for it.

Part 3

#there's no escape #gigabyte writes #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #yandere!leon kennedy #yandere!leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader smut

[luveline]

you're writing for bradley!! i am so so excited!! could i request just some domestic fluff with shy!reader and bradley? maybe her coming home from a long day and he's just the perfect boyfriend with a glass of wine and a hug ready for her? love u gorgeous 💗

thank you for requesting, babe, I absolutely adored writing this and him, let me known if you have any more!! —bradley helps you feel better after a bad, long day with wine and a multitude of hugs. fem!reader 1k

You push into your apartment, a ground floor slotting of sandblown terracotta tiles and wooden shutters weakened by termites, and pause. There's something wrong, a humming sound. 

You take a step back toward the door and slide your phone from your pocket. 

Hi Bradley, where are you? I think somebody has been in my apartment. Should I worry? you text him. You've continued a streak of politeness with him even now, too shy to dip into the familiarity you feel when he's holding you close over the phone. You follow it up quickly. Don't worry, I'm sure it's okay. Do you know what time you'll be coming over? Any time is OK.

"It's me!" Bradley calls with an easy chuckle. Couch springs creak as he jumps up, and a second later he appears in the living room doorway with a frankly breathtaking grin, shoving his cell into his pocket. "I'm coming over right now. Holy shit, would you look at you?" 

You hold your bag closer to your side, hair not nearly as neat as it started that morning, the day's chaos etched into the small wrinkles either side of your eyes. "Me?" 

When he smiles, it's all white top teeth and joy. For someone who's been through so much, and who works so hard, he's a shaken bottle of fizzy happiness whenever the moment allows —you barely have time to put your bag next to the rack of shoes (and there, his shoes you must've missed toed off and perfectly aligned with your sandy flip flops) when he's crossing the hall in quick strides and pulling you into an ecstatic embrace. 

"Hey," he says, kissing your cheek, moustache not scratchy but far from soft. It rubs a wonky trail as he kisses without goal. Kiss on your nose, your cheek, close enough to your eye to make you cringe and back away. 

"Hi, Brad," you say breathlessly. 

You need time to prepare yourself for seeing him usually, his sudden closeness catching you off guard. You struggle to make any sense of how much he likes you, but you've given up denying his attention. You want it too badly. 

He doesn't stall at your obvious (embarrassing) flustering; he doubles down. His arms like steel cords behind your shoulders, Bradley noses at the side of your face, his breath warm on your cheek as he says, "Sorry, I thought surprising you might be nice, but I didn't think about your nerves." 

"My nerves," you say. 

"Your bad nerves. You're flighty." He gives it another press, the straight line of his nose digging into your cheek before he pulls away. 

Bradley doesn't give you time to miss his arms around you. He makes for the kitchen, notices you aren't following, and grabs your hand. Tugging, he takes you into the kitchen and elbows open your refrigerator, revealing a better sight than what you'd seen this morning. 

"I had to go out again when I saw your fridge," he says, ducking down to push aside what looks like the makings of your favourite meal to unearth a pretty bottle of red. "Sweetheart, when you said you had a shitty breakfast, I was picturing, like, half a grapefruit. Did you eat anything?" 

He only knows what you'd texted him, shitty breakfast code for the found half of a cereal bar in your jacket. 

You don't like to text Bradley too much in case you put him off, but today was bad, and you know he doesn't mind. He'd told you so only a few days ago. His hand full of your stomach, hot under the collar, you can't remember what you'd been talking about initially, your memory intricately busy remembering the planes of his tightly muscled torso and the feeling of his weight atop you, but suddenly he'd been leaning down, brown eyes pleading. "You can talk to me," he'd said. "About anything. I want to hear it. You know that, right?"

So you texted him somewhere around lunch time and had been delighted to find him puttering around doing a whole lot of nothing. He's been keeping himself busy on leave, staying fit, helping your elderly upstairs neighbour put together her new chest of drawers between half marathons and surfing, regular dreamboat stuff. 

I think I'm having a bad day, you'd said. What are you up to, Brad? Can I still see you tonight? 

Why do you act like I'm not obsessed with you? he'd text back immediately. Kidding. Kind of. What's wrong? Can I bring you lunch? 

Raincheck on lunch? I don't think I'll have time. I'll explain later if that's OK. Miss you. 

Miss you too, baby. I wanna hear all about it tonight.

You blink up from his hands to find him staring at you worriedly. You're in your own head, exhausted and a little muddled after such a long day, and he clearly doesn't like it. 

"Is wine gonna make you feel worse?" he asks, tapping your thigh with his knuckles. 

"Definitely not," you say.

"Before dinner?" 

Your smile turns sheepish. You want the wine much more than the dinner, but if you get both, you won't complain. 

He leans back against the fridge, arms crossed, the neck of the wine bottle held precariously in a confident hand. "Sure you're okay?" he asks. 

"I will be." You take a brave step forward and look up into his face. It's difficult to grasp what it is he sees in you when he's like something out of a movie, all brains, brawn, and bleeding heart. You don't get it, but he wants you, and he's here. "Thanks for coming over, Bradley." 

"This shtick again?" he asks, raising his brows. 

"This shtick again," you repeat, grinning at the implication. 

He hooks your ankle with his. "Thanking me for coming over is like thanking a fish for swimming. Couldn't stop myself if I wanted to." 

Your laugh is a wheeze. Brad does you the generosity of pretending you've made a more intelligible sound and pulls you in for a one-armed hug, rubbing a rough up and down into your side. It's such a nice feeling to be tucked up under his arm that you can almost forget how badly you want a glass of wine. 

"Want the big glasses from the top shelf?" Bradley asks knowingly. 

"Yes. Please." 

#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw x fem!reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw fanfic #bradley bradshaw oneshot #bradley bradshaw scenario #bradley bradshaw drabble #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fic #top gun maverick x reader #rooster x reader #top gun rooster

[javierpena-inatacvest]

You're My Home

Summary: You and Javi have both had one of those weeks where no matter how hard you try, nothing seems to go right. It only takes so long before something stupid makes the both of you snap. When Javi confesses to you what's been putting him on edge, you find a way to make it up to each other.

Word Count: 4.9K

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), established relationship, unprotected p in v sex (wrap before u tap), vaginal fingering, creampie, angst, PTSD (poor Javi has a panic attack but you help him through it), hurt/comfort, makeup sex (!!!!), bad communication but apologizing/forgiving each other, mentions of food/eating, reader wears Javi's shirt and is carried by Javi, fluff fluff fluff bc you two are so in love with each other it hurts

This can be read as a stand alone or as a part of the It's Never Too Late Series!

A/N: I don't know what's been in the water that has me so compelled to make something angsty, but here we are!! Once I started writing this I quite literally could not stop, and it turned out to be one of the most intimate things I have ever written 😭🥺 I love these two sm

It had been a week. 

A long fucking week. 

One of those weeks where it felt like no matter how hard you tried, everything just felt… off. You had just started volunteering to run the Alma Pierce Elementary School drama club, which had you staying an extra hour and a half after school every Monday and Wednesday, on top of preparing for Parent-Teacher Conferences next week. You loved your group of students this year, but holy shit, were they chatty, and the past few days you felt like you might as well have put a cardboard cutout of yourself at the front of the room and left, because your class had absolutely zero interest in paying attention to you. To top it off, you could tell that Javi was having a bad week too. You hadn’t seen much of each other the past few days, with you working late and prepping for conferences, and Javi working on a new project the department had dropped in his lap without notice. Even though you lived in the same apartment, you had felt like strangers this week. Sure, you’d had off days before, but the two of you were always open and honest with each other, seeking comfort and safety in the other's presence, knowing that you were both there for one another, through good times, and bad. 

But this week was not like those “off” days. Something about it had felt tense, cold, even. You hated it. You hated every second of it. The two of you were never like this. Javi was your best friend, yet somehow, sitting in the same room, you still felt a million miles apart. Every interaction that you’d had left a worse taste in your mouth than the last- snapping at each other over stupid things like unclosed containers in the fridge or leaving towels on the bathroom floor. The worst was that Javi just could not seem to let things go, his presence feeling overbearing, almost bossy, with everything that you did. 

“You left the iron on while you were getting ready, you’re gonna burn down the fucking aparment.” 

“Double check the locks on the door, you forgot this morning.” 

“If you don’t fix the bath mat before you get in the shower, you’re gonna break your goddamn head open.” 

Even worse than that, when you tried to politely remind Javi about something, or do something helpful for him, he had been a complete asshole to you. 

“Yes, I can remember to clean it up after I’m done, I’m not fucking 8 years old.” 

“Jesus, I know we need more coffee creamer, you put it on the grocery list and reminded me twice.” 

“I can put away my own laundry, just let me do it.” 

It felt like he was breathing down your neck, the fly in your ear that just wouldn’t go away, and it made you want to scream. You had considered yourself to be a pretty patient person- working with kids, you had to be, but this week, Javier Peña seemed to be testing every ounce of patience you had left in your body, and you were about to run out.  

Your Friday night routine with Javi normally consisted of the 3 same things every week

Javi picking up pizza from place down the street on the way home from work

Eating the pizza and watching a movie 

Pausing said movie to have sex, finish watching the movie, and then fall asleep on the couch. 

On this particular Friday, you had a very strong suspicion that none of those 3 things would be happening tonight. When you came home, you practically collapsed from exhaustion the moment you got through the door. Dropping your bag and kicking off your shoes, you crawled your way to the couch, completely collapsing in its cushions, taking a few deep breaths to try and regain your composure from the hellish day it had been. You finally mustered up enough strength to get up and change out of your work clothes into something more comfortable before sulking around the apartment, making yourself finish chores that had seemed to go neglected all week. Javi was normally home a half hour after you, but as you looked up at the clock, he was 20 minutes later than usual. It wasn’t long before another hour had gone by, leaving you absolutely starving, unable to wait for the dinner Javi may or may not be bringing home. You scavenged through your fridge and pantry, pulling out sauce and spaghetti to make yourself pasta to at least tide you over. 

When Javi got home two hours past his normal arrival, you were shocked by the smell of pizza that filled your apartment as he walked through the door. You were even more shocked by the reaction he had to seeing the pot of noodles you had left out on the stove while you sat at the kitchen table to finish report cards to hand out at conferences. 

“Did you already fucking eat?” His tone was sharp and brash as he dropped the pizza box on the kitchen counter. 

“Well you’re home two hours later than normal, Javi. What was I supposed to do? Not eat? I’m more than capable of fending for myself if you’re not here with pizza.” You could feel pressure in your stomach rising, clenching your fists to try and hold in the last bit of patience you had. 

“That’s not the fucking point. You know I always get pizza for us on Friday, you know I’m bringing you dinner, I can’t help that things have been a shit show at work and I’m still trying to at least do something to take care of you.” 

Take care of you? Nuh, uh. That was the last straw. 

You stood up out of your chair, palms flat on the table as you glared at Javi. “Take care of me? Seriously, Javi? Like I’m some sort of helpless little puppy that can’t fend for themself? I am more than fucking capeable of taking care of myself, and this whole week you have been acting like I am literally incapable of doing anything in this house. Listen, I can tell things have been shitty for you at work, and this week has sucked for me too, but every time I try to go do something nice for you, something to actually help take care of you? You’re already halfway down my goddamn throat, telling me to stop or fix whatever it is I’m doing.” Your heart was racing, blood pumping through your veins so intensely, you could feel your hands begin to shake. 

“Because it’s my fucking job to take care of you!” He growled, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers as you stood with your hands on your hips, laughing at him in the least humorous way possible. 

“Your job? Your fucking job? You don’t think I’m capable of taking care of myself? That’s fucking great. So you can take care of me, but I can’t take care of you? Yeah, that makes sense. Un-fucking-believeable. I don’t know what the fuck has been going on with you this past week, but I can’t do this right now. I’m going on a fucking run.” You stormed to the door, throwing on your shoes as you white knuckled your keys in your grasp. 

“You fucking hate running!” Javi yelled, clenching his jaw before burying his hands in his face. 

“I don’t fucking care!” You grunted back, deliberately slamming the door behind you as you sauntered down the stairs of your apartment to the parking lot. Javi was right, there was no physical activity you hated more than running. You weren’t really sure what your plan was, just that you couldn’t stand there fighting with Javi anymore. You could feel the adrenaline flowing through you, enough to make you pick up your feet and actually begin sprinting down the sidewalk. You just kept running. Running until you could feel your sides begin to hurt, until your eyes began to sting from the tears welling behind them, until your chest felt like it was collapsing in on you, making you stop in the middle of the cement pathway in a full on breakdown. You could barely catch your breath, sobbing, as your hands dropped to your knees, your body trembling with each pathetic whimper. 

What the fuck were you doing? Why was Javi being like this? Why were you being like this? Why won’t he just talk to you? Why can you just not make things right? Why was the one person you loved more than anything in the world the one who was making you feel like you’d been run over by a semi-truck? 

Wiping your tears and snot with your sleeve, you took a deep breath and turned around to head home, determined to get to the bottom of whatever was causing you to both suffer through the worst week ever.

“Javi?” You peeked into the apartment, your voice barely above a whisper. 

“What?” He answered, his voice still sharp, making you wince as you walked over to the couch where he sat. 

“Javi… Javi what’s going on? I can’t do this anymore. If I did something to make you mad, I’m sorry, I just-” 

“Fucking work has just been a shit show, okay?” He snapped, cutting off your sentence. “I’m going to bed, I’m fucking exhausted.” He sighed as he got up, storming his way down the hallway, leaving you there alone on the couch, your bottom lip quivering as the tears began to stream down your face again, leaving you in a silent, sobbing heap on the couch. 

You waited a while before getting into bed with Javi, entering your bedroom in its already dark state to avoid crossing paths while the two of you finished your nighttime routines. You crawled into your comforter, eyes still red and puffy as you lay back to back with Javi, without so much as even a good night, let alone, an “I love you.” 

You could feel yourself stirring, tossing and turning in your sleep as you rolled over, outstretching your arm to an unfamiliarly empty space. You turned over to face Javi, now finding yourself wide awake at the fact that he wasn’t there next to you. Immediately, you shot up, calling out his name as you got out of bed, wondering where the hell he was. As you made your way into the hallway, you whispered his name once more before hearing the sounds of heavy, labored breathing coming from the living room. You rushed in, finding Javi sitting on the floor, his hand grasping at his chest with a look of pure panic on his face. 

“I feel like… Fuck, I feel like I can’t breathe. My heart is beating so fast.” He whimpered between his shaky breathing and sobs. “I just- I just kept seeing it over and over again in my head and I woke up and it still wouldn’t go away. Every when I wake up, it’s like it’s fucking haunting me. I feel like something’s crushing my chest. Baby, what’s happening?” He gasped as he looked up at you, helpless and desperate.  

Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no. You knew exactly what was happening. 

Immediately, you climbed into his lap, wrapping yourself around him as tightly as possible, stretching your arms as widely as you could around the broadness of his body. You tried to slow your breathing down, taking long inhales and exhales as you held him. “Just breathe, baby. It’s okay. You’re safe, I promise. I’m here. Deep breaths, okay?” 

“Osita, I can’t- Fuck. Fuck, fuck.” His voice was trembling, each word low and labored as he grasped at the back of his shirt you had draped over your back. 

“I know, baby. I know. I know it’s scary. I promise that you’re safe. I’m here, okay? Just breathe. In and out. I’m not leaving. You’re safe with me, I promise it will be okay.” Even though your heart was shattering, you did everything you could to be the calm in his storm, whispering your reassurances in your soft, sweet voice. Slowly but surely, you could feel the intensity of his breaths lessen, the rising and falling of his chest easing as he grasped tighter at your shirt, pulling you closer to him. 

“It’s okay, Javi. It’s okay. Listen, I’m gonna ask you to do something, alright? It’s gonna sound stupid but it’s gonna help.” You could feel him nod against your chest, his sobs finally beginning to slow. “Can you open your eyes and tell me 5 things you see?” You felt him lift his head, looking up at you, his face wet and red as his deep brown eyes locked with yours.

“Fuck, um, the- the wall, the carpet, the uh, um, the couch, shit, the TV, you. I can see you.” 

“Okay, perfect. What about 4 things you can touch, like feel in your hands?” You smiled gently at him as his breathing was now at a near normal rate. He raised up his arm, wiping his damp face with his palm. 

“My fucking wet face.” The both of you smirked, bringing you relief that Javi was already half laughing. “The carpet, my shirt, that always looks better on you than it does on me. Fuck, I can feel your skin, it’s always so soft. I love feeling it.” He ran one of his hands along the bare skin of your thigh, his fingers grasping at your flesh. 

“You’re doing great, baby. How about 3 things you can hear?” 

“Um, the cars outside, the fan, I could feel your heartbeat when I was on your chest.” He pressed his head back against you, raking your fingers through the ends of his damp curls, sticking to his forehead from his panicked sweat. 

Okay, almost done. What about 2 things you can smell?” You asked, running your fingers along the nape of his neck. 

“Your shirt smells like laundry. No matter how hard I try it just always smells better when you do it. And your shampoo. It always smells so sweet and fruity, it’s my favorite.” He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his hand gently tugging at the ends of your hair, twisting his fingers through it. 

“Okay, last one. Something you can taste.” He lifted his head, looking at you as he slid the hand in your hair to cradle your jaw, cupping your face. 

“You.” He rasped, his lips barely pressing against yours, feeling the hot breaths between your mouths as they met. He pulled back, pausing for a moment before he spoke. “Baby…I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. This week has been all my fault. I’m so sorry I didn’t say anything. It’s been so long since I’ve felt like this and I was scared. I was so fucking scared.” 

“Javi, it’s okay. Please, I just want to be here for you. You know you can tell me anything, okay? I love you, Javi. I love you more than anything. I know it hurts to talk about the things that scare you the most, but it’s even scarier watching the person you love hurt so badly and not knowing what to do to help them. I don’t care what it is, baby. There’s nothing you can tell me that’s gonna scare me away.” The look on his face nearly broke you. You could tell he was so hurt. Hurt by whatever had been haunting him. Hurt by the fact he wasn’t okay. Hurt by the fact that he had hurt you. 

“The project I’ve been working on this week… It all started because of how bad things are getting across the border in Mexico. A mom was out with her kids and they were all shot in a hit and run accident between two people making a drug trade. It was only an hour from here. I watched so many people do so many fucked up things that I thought I would never have to worry about again once I got home. And even if I did, I was going to be the only person I needed to worry about. But I couldn’t stop imagining that mom with her kids was you. You and our future kids. Every night since that fucking case file got set on my desk, I wake up to the same fucking nightmare of me running down the street, trying to grab you, push you, do anything to get you out of the way, but every fucking night I’m never fast enough. All I can do is watch as that bullet goes through you and you fall to the ground. I can’t let it happen to you. What if something goes wrong and I can’t protect you? I couldn’t fucking live with myself. I just want to keep you safe Osita. I’m so sorry. I love you too much to lose you.” 

Fuck. 

It wasn’t long before you were crying with him, squeezing him tightly once again, pressed against the warmth of his bare chest. That’s what had been going on. That’s why he had been so overbearing. That’s why he hadn’t been the Javi that you’d known and loved this week. On the night he’d told you the worst of the things he had seen and done away in Colombia, you had seen how his eyes had filled with regret, remorse, even anger. But this was different. Never once in the time that you’d known him had you seen Javi so scared. The look in his eyes when you found him sitting on the floor was one of pure terror. You couldn’t imagine what it would be like, waking up night after night to the image of Javi slipping away, let alone coming to grips with the reality that you couldn’t even fathom, and he knew far too well. Javi knew you had no problem sticking up for yourself. You were strong, tough, and fiercely independent- those were all things he loved so much about you. But those things weren’t enough to protect you from the dangers that haunted his past, or the terrifying reality of the present. 

Through the silent cries of your sobs, you felt Javi’s hand under your chin, lifting your head to force your eyes to meet. “Osita, I’m so sorry. Pease, please forgive me. I’ve been so lost in my own world this week because I’ve been so scared about what could happen to you. I had my head so far up my own ass that I thought I was doing everything I could to try and keep you safe in any way that I could, and instead I’ve just been a fucking dick to the person I care about more than anything in the world. I don’t wanna fight anymore, I fucking hate it. I’m so fucking sorry.” 

You draped your arms around his neck, your fingers tracing small, gentle circles along his back as you stared back at him. “I didn’t know, Javi. I didn’t know you were so scared. I’m so sorry. I don’t wanna fight anymore either. This has been the shittiest week. I missed you. I missed my best friend.” He pressed his hand against the back of your head, cradling it in his palm as he hugged you tightly. “You just have to promise me something, okay?” 

“Anything. Anything, baby.” 

“You have to promise me that you can’t keep all of this in. You have to promise me you’ll talk to someone about it. Me, your dad, people at work, Steve, a therapist, someone. There are so many people who care so much about you who just wanna help. You’re the strongest person I know, Javi, but it’s okay to not be strong sometimes.” He let out a long, shaky breath, darting his eyes down at the ground, the Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed. “You promise me?” You asked again, grabbing his face in your hands, swiping your thumb along his wet cheeks. 

“I promise.” 

In that moment, it was like the two of you could feel something in the air change. The tension lifting, the frustrated fog fading, the both of you desperately needing the other to know how sorry you were for the way you had acted. You found yourself face to face, eyes closing as your mouths came together in the most gentle, tender kiss. But even as your parted lips barely pressed against one another, you could practically feel how desperate you both were. 

“I love you.” 

Even though you whispered it against the soft, unshaven stubble of Javi’s cheek, it feels like you’re screaming it, determined to make sure he hears those 3 words as they fall from your lips, that he knows how much you mean each one, every second of every hour of every day. You can feel the heat in your chest as his hands grasp around the small of your back, pulling you closer as your bodies melt together, the tension straining in your muscles dissipating with each second he pulls you closer. 

“I love you too.” 

It felt like suddenly, all was right with the world again. The Javi you knew and loved had come back, returning home to you. All of the fear and sadness was replaced by a rampant desperation to know how much you needed him, almost as much as he needed to show you how desperately he craved you, too. The tingle built at the base of your spine as his fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt, his hand creeping further up your belly, pressing against the curves of your sides. You raised your arms as his fists balled up the worn fabric, carefully lifting it over your head as his hot breath ran against your neck, leaving gentle, tender kisses along your newly exposed skin. Your hands pressed against his hips, tugging at the waistband of his cotton sleep shorts as he locked his arms under your legs, bringing you both to stand as you wrapped your legs around the small of his back, the skin of your bare chests brushing against each other as he carried you toward the bedroom. Each kiss of your parted lips was like a plea, begging that the other would forgive you, that despite the way you had treated each other there was no one in the world that you loved more, that you would rather be with right here, right now. 

Crossing the threshold to the bedroom, Javi leaned his body over the mattress, carefully placing you down in the warm, tangled sheets of your bed that had felt so cold and harsh only a few hours ago. You looked up at Javi standing at the end of the bed as he nudged his shorts off of his hips, leaving him exposed, the clothes now pooling around his ankles. Crawling over you, he hooked his fingers around the waistband of your underwear, the only thing left on your body after your shirt had been left behind in the living room. You lifted your hips, helping him shuffle the fabric down your legs as he ran his hands along the meat of your thighs. He leaned over you, the temples of your foreheads pressed against each other as his fingers danced along the skin of your bare legs, barely grazing against your entrance. You could already feel the slick of your arousal pooling under his touch, the calloused pads of his fingers ever so gently tracing up and down your folds, making you shutter. 

“Javi... Please.” Your voice trembled as Javi nodded, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You gasped as you felt the thickness of his fingers heedfully pushing themselves inside you, arching your back against the bed as his thumb delicately pressed on your clit. Each thrust of his hand in and out of your heat was dragging and deliberate, the rubbing of his fingertip along your sensitive bundle of nerves making your moans muffled against his chest. Every touch of his hand made you feel better than the last, but there was something primal about the way that you needed him inside you, how you ached to feel him buried deep in heat, to feel every inch of him. “I need you. Please, I need you.” You whimpered against his skin, making him lift his head to look at you as you watched the chocolate brown of his eyes grow darker with lust. He worked in silence, removing his fingers as he stroked himself, making your cunt throb in anticipation as you felt the tip of his cock stroke along your entrance, a moan escaping from your parted lips as he guided himself inside you. 

“Fuck…” He whispered, pushing himself in further, inch by inch, before bottoming out, his tip bumping against your cervix. You wrapped your legs around his back, doing anything you could to bring him closer to you, trying to melt your bodies into one and hold him so tightly you could never let him float away again. You dug your nails into his muscular back as he began to thrust in and out of you, taking his time with each stroke, as if he was savoring every sweet moment. “I love you, Osita. I love you so much, baby. Gonna make you feel good, okay? I promise.” It was like you could feel his words with each stroke, the promise that had fallen from his lips burying itself deep inside you with every rock of his hips against yours. Your bedroom was filled with the sounds of your mixed moans and skin hitting against each other. Even when no words escaped from your mouths, it was almost as if you could hear each other through the sounds between the two of you, coating your walls. 

I love you. 

I need you. 

I’m so sorry. 

His palm pressed along the sheen of your skin, snaking down your body to rub against your clit, intensifying the throbbing that you already felt growing between your legs. With each thrust of his hips, his cock pounded deeper into your heat, hitting the spot within you that had the arousal beginning to pool intensely within your belly, that creeping familiar feeling building at the base of your spine. You dug your nails deeper into Javi’s skin, grasping for the damp curls at the nape of his neck, your whimpers growing louder and more desperate with each stroke as you could feel yourself beginning to crumble beneath him. 

“Javi, pleaseee. Bab-ahhhhh, I’m so close.” You felt your cunt begin to clench around his length, making him moan as each push and pull of hips became more intense, punching against your g-spot and making your writhe under his touch.

“I know you are, Hermosa. Cum for me baby, cum all over me and show me how you’re mine.” 

His words make something inside you snap, making you shake and your body tense as your arms and legs tightened their grip around Javi, crying out his name as your orgasm rushed through you. His lips met yours, swallowing your moans as his pumps became frantic and sloppy, only taking a few more before he was chasing his own high. “Fuck, baby. You’re so fucking perfect. Te amo más que a nada. Soy tyuo para siempre. (I love you more than anything, I’m yours, forever.). Fuck, I’m gonna- shit- I’m- ahhhhhhh” With one last push, you could feel him throbbing inside you, spilling against your walls, pumping every last drop of himself inside you as he slumped into your body, your hearts racing, chests rising and falling as one. The two of you laid there for a moment, your bodies tangled in each other, letting each of your breaths sync as you came down from your blissed out highs. Javi hissed as he turned over to pull out of you, making you whine at the loss, before rolling over to lay your head on his chest. You could feel his arm wrap around you to pull you in closer, his fingers tracing along your shoulder blade as you draped your arm across his stomach. 

“I guess that’s one way to make up for this shitty week.” You giggled as Javi shook his head, joining you, the both of you glad to hear the sweet sounds of each other's laughter for the first time in much too long. “Can we never do this again? I never wanna fight like that ever again. These last few days have sucked without you.” 

“Never. This was the fucking worst. Never again. I promise.” He kissed the top of your head, burying his nose in your messy curls as he held you just a little bit tighter. 

“Okay.” You smiled against his warm, tanned skin before looking up at him. “You wanna know the worst part?” 

“What, baby?” 

“I didn’t even get to eat any of that pizza.” Javi chuckled as he shook you playfully in his grasp, making you squirm and snicker as he held you. 

“There’s still some left in the fridge. Let me go get it and you can tell me all about your week, okay?” He kissed your forehead as he pushed himself out of bed, making his way to the door. 

“Okay. We’ve got a lot to catch up on, I didn’t even get to tell you how I had to call Mark’s mom in the middle of math because he stuck a crayon up his nose yesterday.” The both of you snorted as Javi looked back at you. 

“I can’t wait to hear all about it.” 

Taglist: @cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #javier peña #javi pena #javier pena fic #narcos #narcos fanfiction #javi peña x reader #javier pena #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fluff #javier pena narcos #javier pena smut #javier pena x f!reader #javier pena x female reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña smut #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña x female reader #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier pena imagine #pedro pascal character #pedrohub #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x you

[fategoflatass]

I used to be so against the slow burn trope. Not because I thought it was shit; it's just, I usually don't have the patience to wait whatever-amount-superior-to-three damn chapters for my dear ship to finally be able to look at each other without blushing and/or hold hands. Thus why you often times see me reading oneshots or fics with the "Established Relationship" tag on them.

So you can imagine just how surprised—or maybe not, maybe I just didn't think enough about it—I was when I realized my newest fixation's main pairing is—canonically—the embodiment of slow burn. Because holy shit they're taking their time.

Nothing against how Kusuriya develops its love story—quite the opposite, actually. The relationship between Jinshi and Maomao, two characters that are written as beautifully as their romance, is a rather realistic approach as to how the same or a similar dynamic would developed in real life. In such a complicated situation, with such complex feelings about emotions—both external and their own—and attachment, makes sense that it takes so long for the relationship to finally sail.

The problem is, I didn't know I was signing with the Devil the moment I decided to pick up the light novel. Ten volumes and nothing has happened. Nothing.

And you can say that technically things have happened, because they have. I mean, Jinshi is just so desperate for Maomao to give him the time of day, you know what I mean? And even that isn't enough anymore and thus he has committed some of the craziest shit I've seen in any romance. Which okay, I don't usually read these type of romances but still.

What I mean by "nothing" is just, their relationship hasn't changed status. I could also say that it seems to go nowhere, but that'd be lying. Since, you know, it has changed quite a lot—just not in the way my impatient ass wanted it to. Because he can be as honest with his feelings as he pleases, and those around them might be heavely conscious of the tension and thus constantly tease those lovebirds (as they should), but babygirl's not helping, you know?

And I get it, Maomao's not the best at expressing and understanding herself, and she's also way too busy worrying about going as unnoticed as possible (she should give up on that one already, tbh) while keeping her head where it should be. But like, I can't help feeling frustrated over it like ‼‼

GIRL, FUCK THE RULES. TAKE THAT PATHETIC EXCUSE OF A MAN AND RUNAWAY SOMEWHERE NO ONE WILL BE ABLE TO IDENTIFY YOU. YOU THEN CARRY THAT BITCH BRIDESTYLE TO THE CLOSEST CHURCH AND MAKE HIM YOUR WIFE. PROCEED TO FROG AROUND, EXPERIMENT WITH YOUR UTERUS AS MUCH AS YOU'D LIKE, AND THEN TEACH THE PRODUCTS OF YOUR PRACTICES AS YOUR OWN GUINEA PIG THE WAYS OF HERBAL MEDICINE. AS EASY AS THAT.

But she won't. She'll take her sweet ass time being in denial about both Jinshi's and her own feelings, then maybe she'll proceed to analize herself and find out that maybe, just maybe, that affection that she'd been feeling for that loser became something else. Did said affection also become something more complicated? Absolutely. Does she know how to deal with it? Hell no, but fuck it. If I learned something from school is that you always leave the hardest parts for later.

Now you see why I was so against reading slow burn?

And you wanna know the worst part? I loved it—I loved every second of it, every word, every page. Every scene that seemed to help the relationship advance, only for Maomao to say nope and leave like she owns the place, which at this point she fucking might.

It feels like I, as the reader, am in the middle of a heatwave and some sadistic bastard won't stop teasing me with ice cream—they put it in front of my face, close enough that I can smell the cold. Then take a spoon and eat little by little while staring directly to my eyes. At times they seem to show mercy and feed me a spoon, only for it to be a rather small quantity of serving—serving that tastes so damn good at first, only for it to have such a bitter aftertaste. But if I gotta have something in common with Jinshi is that I'll never be able to beat the masochist allegations, so I'll wait patiently for the next spoon and its corresponding and seemingly enless teasing from that faceless being.

So yeah, I'm still against it, only that now I understand the appeal—even if I have yet to find out about the whereabouts of my sanity while still mananing with the little I've left.

#kusuriya no hitorigoto #the apothecary diaries #jinmao #mai.txt #long post #rant #? #did i just write a rant about a realisticly slow burning romance? yes #please understand i've no one to complain to about them #so i better let go these feelings before i explode and throw my pc out of the window or something #i tried being as spoiler free as possible but please tell me if i should change anything about... whatever this is

[shankschewtoy]

Yo Evou!! I hath returned, my idea for this time is;

How would the monster trio, and whoever else you would like to add, react to you staying up for around 48 hours?

Basically we’re all sleep deprived, so our judgement is impaired and you get more clumsy and all that. And basic tasks become harder too.

(I’m doing it right now, so if there’s spelling/grammar mistakes, that’s why 😉😉)

Here’s a pic of my dog btw, his name is Shanks funnily enough!

Anyways take care of yourself!! 💟💟💟

a/n - your dog is absolutely ADORABLE 😭💜💜 important question tho- (is he missing an arm?)

Warnings ⚠️ - crack, g/n reader

- oh he can stay awake for literally forever because- well- he’s Luffy 💀 but he’s not normal ok? So when you stay up it’s a whole different story

- it’s hour 48, and you were way past the point of drinking tea or coffee. The dark circles under your eyes were that of Law’s, no- probably worse 💀

- you could barely keep your eyes open, and holy shit going down the stairs was dangerous asf 😭 i pray for your safety

- “Hey y/n!!! Can you make me one of sanji’s sandwiches from yesterday? I’m soooo hungry :)”

- the way you turned around and even Luffy was shocked, (you looked like pre-timeskip law college drunk, missing an assignment, drank 10 cups of coffee law)

- “WHOA-! Uh- y/n…. Are you ok?”

- “yeah mhm! Totallyyyyyy fine 👍”

- no you’re not fine.

- you looked in the fridge to see a couple extra sandwiches, and you tried to reach inside and grab it. But your depth perception was so off that you were I think a foot away from grabbing it 💀

- luffy was a saint, waiting as patiently as he could as he watched you struggle and fall asleep a couple times as you tried to grab a sandwich

- when you finally grabbed it, cutting open the paper wrapping was going to be…. A rollercoaster-

- grabbing the scissors, you literally almost sliced one of your fingers off multiple times, you had Luffy looking like this right in front of you

- man is scared for your safety. But he still let you struggle until you finally got it 😭 when you slowly handed it to him, he made you sit down and eat the sandwich

- man was literally trying to shove it all in your mouth because he thought you were just low on meat (he thinks it’s meat itself is a vitamin)

- “Y/n! Open your mouth wider!”

- *snoring*

- “DON’T FALL ASLEEP WHILE EATING I HAVEN’T TAUGHT YOU HOW TO DO THAT YET!”

- in the end, nami slapped him and made him go help you upstairs to get some much needed rest, and Luffy hugs along with it :)

- the fact that you can stay up that long is amazing to this man, and without a single nap? Damn that’s admirable 😂

- staying up for that long comes with consequences though, and they were hitting… HARD.

- “Y/n where did you go?” -zoro

- you were in front of him the whole time he just got lost and went the other way 💀

- “here..”

- you were on top of the stairs, slowly making your way down, taking wobbly steps and barely being able to hold onto the rails

- he could see that you were about to fall but the dude was just confused as to why you looked like you hadn’t slept in years

- sure enough, you skipped a step and started to fall down, skidding down the wooden steps as zoro stared like an idiot

- didn’t even catch you 💀💀💀💀 what a loser (jk)

- you fell asleep immediately after you fell in front of him, and man was so confused

- “Are you sleeping?”

- no y/n’s not sleeping, WHAT DO YOU THINK FUCKING MOSSHEAD???

- started poking you and literally trying to check if you were sleeping or not 💀 but don’t worry! He actually carried you to bed and just watched over you, even put the covers over you too 👍

- took the day off from training to make sure you were ok- because you scared the mosshead

- if there’s a time Sanji has even let you stay up this long it’s this time- this guy KNOWS mental health and sleep is super important. He’d totally make you sleep at a decent time

- but this was an exception, you had a ton of stuff to do around the thousand sunny, and the fights seemed to never end on the island you went to with nami

- when you got back oh god you looked terrible 😭 disheveled to say the least

- you were dying. Dying

- “Y/n! Welcome ba-“ HORSE WHEEZING GASP

- man had a heart attack, those dark circles sent him to the all blue and back 💀💀💀

- wasted no time in forcing you to drink water and do all your tasks for you, don’t worry, pervy cook’s on it 💪

- “Y/n, do you need some more tea? I’ll go and buy more of your favorite!”

- “Sanji- that island is… hell”

- “I would gladly go to hell for you my love”

- everyone needs someone like Sanji 💜

a/n - love anime’s ideas because I’m laughing as I’m writing them like an idiot

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece hcs #anime hcs #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #zoro #zoro headcanons #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro x you #zoro op #op zoro #one piece zoro #luffy x you #Luffy #luffy x reader #straw hat luffy #luffy headcanons #monkey d luffy #one piece luffy #monkey d. luffy #luffy x y/n #zoro x y/n #luffy op #sanji x reader #black leg sanji #sanji x y/n #sanji fluff #sanji op #sanji

[scekrex]

It's my first time asking a prompt to ANYONE, and I'm horrible at english so if the prompt is bad you can ignore.

So Adam is visiting earth one day in human form(because Sera let him for once) and as Adams roaming around the city (He can do whatever you want on earth) he sees the reader and he's like "Holy shit... He's hot." So Adam flirts with the Reader and the Readers like "Wtf?" But he just goes along with it. But soon Adam has to go back up to heaven and he feels really sad, so he like kisses (ig?) the reader and the reader again goes "WTF??? but Okay? He's cute, I like him."

So like, a few years later, Adam is strolling around Heaven when he sees reader again, and he's in complete disbelief that the hot guy from earth is in heaven. So Adam goes up to him, and is so excited because he's never felt like that meeting somebody, except for Eve and Lillith, Adam than helps the reader around heaven and stuff like that, and than maybe like a time skip where one of them proposes to the other? Idk.

It's shitty, I know. But I absoulutly love your writing :)

Shush bitch it's not shitty and it was so fun to write!! So here ya gooo xoxo/p

Love at first sight, I still believe

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

This was supposed to be a quick thing, down to earth, get the shit heaven didn’t offer, leave.

Adam wasn’t exactly the biggest fan of walking around on earth, it felt dirty, impure. Sinners and Winners both roamed on earth and safety was never guaranteed and yet he came down there once a year when his creation day neared to get some of the food he liked so much that heaven refused to hold in store for him - like seriously, he was allowed to eat rips but some alcohol and chicken burgers were too much to ask for? Apparently.

He was just walking through the streets to get to the store he always visited as you came into his view. You were wearing some comfortable clothes, your hair all messy from a busy, stressful day at work and all you craved was your favorite drink. The angel in human disguise was interested immediately and therefore quick to catch up to you. “What’s a fucking pretty boy like you doin’ here,” the cocky smirk on Adams lips was huge and his confidence was on a level too high to even comprehend. You simply looked up at the tall man you’ve never seen before and raised an eyebrow at him. Adam was leaning against one of the shelves, his arms crossed over his chest and his chin tilted upwards which made himself seem even bigger than he already was. His human disguise came with a normal height, yet he was still taller than most of the other earthlings, looking over their heads with a height of 6 '5 feet. “Can I help ya, man?” was your casual response as you weren’t quite sure what exactly it was the stranger wanted. Adam craved his wings, he wanted to wrap them around you to pull you in but humans had no wings so as long as he was roaming on earth neither did he - it was a shame honestly. But his charm would work even without the golden feathers. “Oh fuck yeah you can, babes.” When the pet name left his lips you straightened your back and shot him a questionable look. “See, I’ve been looking for a pretty boy like you and your fucking ass seems to perfectly fit my type.” And he meant it because even though you were human just like all the others and for what Adam knew you could be the most horrible one of them all, you had a vibe. A vibe that told him you weren’t like the sinners, you weren’t like the other angels either. It was something about you that pulled him in, enchanted him even. And while your looks definitely played into it, it wasn’t fully because of them. There was something else, something he had no idea how to explain nor did he have a name for it. And if someone were to ask how to describe you in one word, Adam would have responded with ‘divine’.

You rolled your eyes at the attempts of the handsome stranger to flirt with you - the confidence he seemed to have was impressive, you gave him that, but over all? Way too much. He should try and play it smoother, less like he just wants to get in your pants and more honest - unless getting in your pants was his goal, then he met the wrong person by hitting on you though. Not that he would have known. “What’s next? You wanna ask me if it hurt when I fell from heaven?” At that the taller brunette snorted and shook his head, “Oh fuck no babes, I come from up there and I ain’t ever seen a dude quite as sexy as you there. And I’ve been there ever since the start of humanity.” That made you furrow your eyebrows at him, “What, you wanna tell me you’re Adam?” And for a second Adam thought he had slipped up, that he had just revealed who he really was and that Sera would come for his ass once he’s back in heaven. But then he led the conversation in a different direction by shrugging his shoulders and responding casually, “Well, that’s what my fam calls me, you however can simply call me Dickmaster, shawty.” You simply rolled your eyes at that, dickmaster? Was this dude serious? Apparently he was. Because his eyes were full of confidence and his body language looked quite proud.

You wanted to put that confidence of his to a test though, so you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and yanked him down to your height, a cocky yet lazy grin met his surprised expression as you spoke, “That so? Is that what your girlies call ya?” Adam, who had not expected you to react that way, was absolutely overwhelmed, yet he craved you even more for pulling a stunt like that. Confidence made you look even sexier. But no answer left his lips, the first man was a little too stunned to speak so all he did was staring at you. “What happened to the confidence of yours, dickmaster?” The people around you were staring at you, curious eyes were watching closely as you two did, what you did. But you really couldn’t care, not when the man flirting with you was quite handsome, probably the most beautiful dude you’d find in this shitty town. The brunette in front of you continued to just watch you, his brain was not able to answer you at all, not when he was able to feel your breath on his face. “Think I can reboot ya brain with a kiss?” you cockily asked, because while kissing him seemed tempting, consent was important. When Adam gave you a small nod - that was literally all his body was capable of - you were quick to connect your lips to his. And despite how much shit this dude had been talking, his lips were surprisingly soft and he wasn’t a bad kisser either - the exact opposite was the case if you were being honest. But his ego was huge already, there was no need to tell him.

-

The years had passed but the memory of him meeting you on earth for the first time felt still fresh, like it had just happened a couple hours ago. Adam was walking the streets to his favorite guitar store to buy a new set of strings when he spotted a familiar face. A face he should have already forgotten about but yet couldn't get out of his head at all. Your face.

What in God’s mighty name were you doing in heaven? Had you been as pure as Adam had thought you were? Were you as divine as you had looked?

Your eyes met his and you frowned at him, Adam had already completely forgotten about the fact that he was wearing his mask and even if you would still remember his human disguise, there was simply no way you would be able to recognize him with his exterminator mask on. Adam however walked over to you, confidence filled his body as always when he casually wrapped his arm around your shoulders. You flinched away from his touch immediately, removed his arm from your body and took a step back to create a certain distance between you and him. “You wanna tell me I’m that forgettable?” the first man asked and for a moment you were convinced there was a flash of hurt in those glowing yellow eyes that were on display for you to see. “I’m pretty sure I don’t fucking know you,” and while you the familiar sounding voice from somewhere, you weren’t sure if it was just your mind playing tricks on you or if you actually ever met somebody with that voice. It had only been a couple days since your soul had arrived in heaven after all. “Fucking excuse me?” the man next to you exclaimed, his hand moved to cover the center of his chest in a dramatic way which caused your frown to deepen. “You wanna tell me you forgot about the fucking Adam?” And suddenly everything fell into place and the memories came back to you. Adam, that’s who that voice of the stranger next to you belonged to. But the dude didn’t look the part, not even in the slightest. That’s when the first man seemed to remember his mask - he was quick to take the thing off and shoot you a lazy smile, “How about that, you fucking remember me now?” Your eyes locked with his and you saw the same cockiness reflecting in those golden orbs that the brown ones had held when you had met Adam for the first time. He looked different, not in a negative way at all. And suddenly everything fell into place in your head, he hadn’t been joking when he had told you he was the Adam because he literally seemed to be the Adam. The first man.

The brunette seemed to notice that you caught onto it, that you had just wrapped your beautiful mind around the fact that he was in fact the first human oh did the realization look good in your eyes - that caused his grin to widen, “Knew you couldn’t forget a man as handsome as me.” You were the one that was too stunned to speak this time because was the first man really flirting with you? Yet another winner, just one out of all the others? You were really nothing special - especially compared to him. But yet he seemed to be interested in you - fuck he had ben ever since had first seen you. “Why-” you wanted to ask him why he didn’t tell you, why he was interested in you, why you. But Adam’s finger which the first man pressed against your lips shushed you. “We got time babes. Let’s start at the fucking beginning.”

-

When someone would’ve told you a couple thousand years ago that one day you’d end up in heaven you would’ve called bullshit on that - not because you had been a bad person but rather because you didn’t fully believe it was possible to end up in heaven. And if that same person would’ve also told you that you’d be dating Adam in your afterlife? Fuck you weren’t sure how you would’ve reacted. But there you were, at a rock concert with your boyfriend Adam. In Heaven. And on top of it was your relationship with Adam, the most healthy relationship you’ve ever had in all of your existence.

The both of you had been dating for a good two thousand years, sure you had your ups and downs, but that was normal, that was the case with every relationship. But you and Adam had managed to solve the problems, well to be fair Lute had helped with some of the harder things, but you had made it. So when the singer started to shout the lyrics of the song you and Adam had claimed at yours and Adam dropped to his knee, you choked on your breath for a moment.

The brunette pulled out a small box that was covered in golden velvet, opened it with skilled fingers and extended the hand he was holding it in towards you. No words were spoken, not that you would’ve understood each other over the fucking loud music and screaming crowd anyways. But you were quick to join him on his knees, pulled him into a hug and buried your face in his neck.

Yes.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam x male reader #male reader #adam x y/n #adam x reader #adam x you

[nvmadic]

Hello Charlie my friend <3

My goodness i read your imagine of schlatt with the 'asshole to everyone but you' prompt and my brain is brring

Imagine schlatt is the gump type to not share his food with anyone, effectively flicking anyones hand if it goes towards his bag of fries. But when its you, he lets you have as much of his food as youd like, even going to hold a fry to your mouth without you having to ask for it.

"You wan' a bite?" He'd ask, letting you have a taste of his food first.

Sometimes he'd give you shit for stealing his food, even though you said your werent hungry and you didnt order anything for yourself. But again, he'd let you have as much of his food as you'd like. Maybe he ordered extra in advance bc he knew youd

If its anyone besides you??? He's glaring at them, fork in hand itching to just poke their hand away.

-Winter [from primary blog @espresso-lessdepresso ]

winter. yes. this is so accurate.

this man does not like sharing his food. want to taste? “too fuckin’ bad you should have ordered it yourself.” he’d remark rather coldly, joking, yet meaning what he said.

you, however, he’d start eating his food and realise how good it tastes so he would need to share it with you. “taste this, holy shit, you’re gonna love this,” he’d insist rather monotonously yet the excited grin on his lips betrayed a much different emotion that his tone of voice did. at home, or even out with friends who would take it as an open invitation before schlatt would rudely swat their hand away, “i wasn’t talking to you, dumbass.”

“do you want anything, i’m going to get some food?” he’d ask casually, twirling his car keys on his finger before you simply shook your head which he shrugged and then left. returning with a bag which suddenly made your stomach rumble, watching as he lethargically strolled back in with a paper bag clutched in his hand.

he knew just by the way you were watching him that he had made a mistake by not getting you anything. huffing a sigh, he’d feign being full so he could give you a portion of his meal, knowing you’d feel guilty otherwise. he’d rib you about it later, his voice soft and lighthearted. “i’m going to starve now, i can’t believe you ate all my fuckin’ food.” watching your face contort as you tried to defend yourself he’d just laugh.

at least he knew next time, when you politely declined his offer. coming back with a takeout bag and watching your eyes linger on the food too long, stomach rumbling at the sight. strolling over to you and placing your go-to order in front of you without saying a word, just a knowing grin playing at the corners of his lips.

if that were anyone else, one of his friends? “tough shit, i gave you your opportunity, if you’re hungry go and make yourself something to eat or go and get it your-fuckin’-self.” coldly remarking, throwing fingerfuls of fries into his mouth without any remorse.

#asks #winter #jschlatt #jschlatt x reader #schlatt x reader #jschlatt x you #schlatt x you #jschlatt fluff #schlatt fluff #jschlatt hcs #schlatt hcs #jschlatt headcanons #schlatt headcanons #schlatt

[alwaysonthemend]

A Lazy Night | JTK

Author’s Note: Request from bestie @iheartjakekiszka for a fluffy Jake fic. I made myself Very Sad with this one because soft Jakey makes me want to sob bc I can’t have him. Alas… Anyways, I hope you enjoy! Unbeta’d so apologies for any mistakes. Now please excuse me while I go drink wine and think soft Jake thoughts. 

Summary: Jake and the band have been working non stop on their new album. But, with a long weekend on the horizon, you decide to give Jake a night of relaxation and rest. Lord knows he needs it. 

Content Warnings: Literally none. Just fluff. 

Word Count: 1968 

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

Meeting Jake Kiszka has been the best thing that ever happened to you. From the very first time you met him, you had immediately known that he was the one. There was something about him that drew you in, and there was no going back. 

Because of this, you couldn't help but to divide your life into two halves. There was Before Meeting Jake and After Meeting Jake. The before had been okay. You had a successful job – however boring it was, and you were happy. You’d had a handful of relationships – though few of them ever lasted long. But life was good. Boring, but good. And then Jake waltzed into your life. And only after did you ever realize how empty the before had been. Jake was your light, and you couldn’t fathom how you had ever managed without him in your life. He made falling in love easy. Jake had entered your heart quickly and made a home there. 

The only downside to being in a relationship with Jake was the distance. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder and you couldn’t agree more. While you're proud of Jake and the fame that he and Greta Van Fleet had acquired, you can’t help but miss him when he’s on tour and desperately wish that he would come home. But his time away only makes the times that he is home that much more special. 

Unfortunately, despite Jake not currently being on tour, it still felt like he was never home. The boys were busy putting together their new album, and so Jake was either at the studio with them or running around doing interviews and photoshoots. You got to see him at night, of course. But often, despite his tiredness, he would stay up much later than you to go work on his ideas for new songs. You had work in the morning and so – no matter how much you wanted to, you could rarely stay up late enough to fall asleep with him. 

Tonight was probably going to be one of those nights. It’s already 10 PM and Jake was only just walking through the door of your house, guitar case in hand and eyes excited but tired. 

“Hey, Jake.” You say, rising from your place on the couch to go and greet him. He places his guitar case on the ground and wraps his arms around you, squeezing tight. 

“Hey, babe. I missed you.” He nuzzles his face into your neck, pressing his nose unto your skin, eyes closed. You breathe in his scent, immediately taking comfort in the smell of vanilla and something else that you couldn't define as anything other than just “Jake.” 

“I missed you, too. You look tired.” You pull away from him, noting the tightness around his eyes and the tension in his shoulders. 

“I am. But it was a good day. We got a lot done, so me and the guys decided that we’d take the rest of the week off.” 

“Really? That’s awesome! And I’m off tomorrow anyways so we can have a whole three days to ourselves!” You exclaim, practically beaming with excitement. Jake gives you a soft smile, touched by your desire to spend time with him. 

“Thank God.” He says, walking over to the couch and collapsing into it. “I feel exhausted. I love working on music and we’re having a lot of fun. But holy shit…” He leans his head back on the back of the couch and closes his eyes. “I feel like I could sleep for ten years.” 

“You probably need to.” You tell him, walking over to the kitchen. “Did you eat already? I can fix you something if you’re hungry.” 

“Nah, I’m okay. I’m too tired to eat.” 

You tsk as you grab two wine glasses from the cabinet and grab a bottle of red wine from the counter. You pour yourself and Jake a generous amount. 

“That’s not very healthy, Jakey.” You say, walking back into the living room. 

“And wine is a better alternative?” He chuckles, taking the glass that you offer him to take a sip. 

“Better than nothing, I suppose.” You take a seat next to him, happy to just share the space with him. “So, tell me about the album? How’s it going?” 

He grins, his eyes lighting up. No matter how tired he is, he’s always excited to talk about music. 

“It’s great! I think we’re really making something special. It’s a little different from what we’ve done before, but I think the fans will like it.” He takes a thoughtful sip. “I think… It's just different enough that it’s fresh and exciting. But similar enough to Garden’s Gate that the fans will still like it. We’re trying to toe the line as much as we can – keep what’s worked in the past without getting repetitive, ya know?” 

You smile at his passion. Seeing the man you love get to do something he enjoys so much, with thousands of fans who adore him as much as you do – it’s an amazing feeling. 

“Whatever you guys do, I know it’s going to be amazing. You all are so talented. The fans will love it no matter what.”  

He finishes his glass of wine and places it on the coffee table. 

“Thank you, y/n.” He leans back onto the sofa and a grimace flickers across his face. It’s so fast you probably would have missed it had you not been studying his face so closely. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, babe,” He says, giving you a crooked grin. “My back is just a little sore. Spending a lot of time crouched over a guitar.” He laughs, but you recognize the tightness around his eyes to be pain, not just tiredness. You place your own glass on the table next to his and stand up, offering him your hand. 

“Come on.” 

“Where to?” He asks, already standing and taking your hand. 

“You’re gonna lay down and I’m going to give you a massage.” 

His eyes fill with a mischievous sparkle. 

“Not that kind of massage, Jake.” You scold, leading him up the stairs to your bedroom. “An actual message that will hopefully help your back.”

“Fine.” He sighs, smiling at you as you drag him to the bed. 

“Take your shirt off and then lay down on your stomach. I’m going to make it a little more comfortable in here..” 

“Yes ma’am.” Jake takes off his shoes and shirt and watches you as you move around, lighting the candles that you have scattered across the room. Jake sinks into the bed just as you turn off the overhead light, the only light now coming from the soft glow of the candles. 

“Y/n?” Jake asks as you walk into the bathroom to grab some lotion. 

“Yeah, babe?” 

You walk back into the bedroom to see Jake laying on his back, eyes soft as he looks at you.

“I should have eaten dinner like you said because I think that wine went straight to my head.” 

He giggles, and you notice the flush that’s overtaken his cheeks and chest. You just laugh and shake your head, taking a moment to admire him in the candle light. His hair is pulled back in a loose bun, with little wisps falling out and framing his face. It looks so soft and you want nothing more than to run your fingers through it. Your eyes move downwards, again noting the flush on his chest before your eyes find his soft stomach – no doubt your most favorite thing about him. If he wasn’t so tired and the mood was a little different you’d take the opportunity to bite him. Instead, you walk softly over to the side of the bed and nudge his shoulder. 

“Roll over on your stomach, baby. Just relax.” 

He complies, and you climb up onto the bed. You nudge his legs apart and you gently sink down and straddle his waist.. You squirt some lotion onto your hands and warm it up between your palms before splaying your hands out on his shoulder blades. Immediately, Jake lets out a sigh of relief and you can feel him relax further into the bed. You begin to message him, and you can clearly feel the knots in his upper back and shoulders. 

“Jesus, Jake. No wonder your back hurts.” You say, working your hands down his shoulders and kneading your fingerstips into his biceps. “You’re so tight back here.”

“I know.” He mumbles, voice muffled by the pillows. “It’s been hurting for a while but…” He trails off and sighs as you find a particularly tense knot in his back. 

“You should have said something and I could have helped you sooner, babe.” You say, sliding your hands down farther to his lower back. 

“Didn’t wanna bother you.” He says quietly. 

“Jake…” You say, reaching out to turn his head towards you. His chocolate eyes are glassy with sleep and wine. “That’s what I’m here for. I want to help you.” 

He gives you a lazy smile. 

“I know. But I still feel bad.” 

“Don’t ever feel bad. I love you. And I love helping you in any way I can.”

He huffs a laugh and lowers his face back down into the pillow. 

“I love you too, y/n. So much.” 

You continue your massage on his back, slowly but surely working out the knots and tension. You relish in the feeling of his skin underneath your hands. He’s warm and his scent is so comforting. You feel more at ease than you have in months. Eventually, you hear his soft snores and you rise carefully from his back. You pull the covers over him and take a moment to watch him. The tightness around his eyes is gone, replaced with a softness that you hadn’t seen in a while. His mouth is slightly parted, and his lips look so soft. It’s moments like this that make all of the absence worth it. One moment with Jake like this is worth all the hours of missing him. You’re overcome with a feeling of complete unworthiness. You can’t believe a man like this has fallen in love with you. Of all the people in the world, it’s you that he allows himself to be this vulnerable around. You feel like if you think about it too long you might cry so you shake your head and begin to quietly walk around your bedroom to blow out all the candles. Jake doesn’t stir as you walk to the bathroom to put the lotion away. You walk as quietly as possible back to the bed and crawl in next to him, pressing your back to him and closing your eyes. 

‘Mmmm.” He mumbles, cracking his eyes open. “y/n?” 

“Go back to sleep, Jakey.” You whisper. 

He mumbles something unintelligible before rolling onto his side to face you and slinging his arm around your waist. He pulls you tight against his chest and presses his face into your hair, breathing in deeply. 

“Don’t deserve you.” He whispers. 

“You deserve the world, rockstar.” You’re met with nothing but his soft snores. 

You smile and close your eyes. 

#greta van fleet fanfic #greta van fleet fanfiction #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fanfiction #jake kiszka #jake gvf #gvf fanfic #jake kiszka fluff

[gabessquishytum]

No sex-ed Dream our beloved 😁 how about the reverse of that last ask? Dream was told as a child that only married couples have babies, and growing up somehow completely missed any evidence to refute that. Even when he later (barely) learns about sex, by the time he’s in college he pretty firmly thinks it’s sex + marriage = babies. He still wanted his first time to be special though, so he’s still a virgin until he starts sleeping with Hob.

When Dream starts having pregnancy symptoms, he simply assumes he caught a bad flu or something. At some point Hob hesitantly brings up the possibility of pregnancy, but Dream just rolls his eyes and says something like that’s impossible, or that he’s pretty sure he would’ve noticed if he was pregnant.

What he’s thinking is “It’s impossible obviously bc we’re not married, and I’m pretty sure I would’ve noticed if we had gotten married, very funny Hob (actually that sounds lovely, but we should probably wait until after graduation)”.

What Hob hears is either “that’s impossible” as in Dream can’t have kids (a bit of a disappointment, but there’s always adoption), or “I would’ve noticed” as in Dream has already checked and confirmed he’s not, maybe he already took a test and it came back negative or he’s on his period, so Hob lets it go, and the nausea quickly goes away anyway and they move on in blissful ignorance (btw if Dream is like me he’s really really bad at tracking his cycles, so he doesn’t even notice that he’s missed a couple months (I’m so bad, if I ever get pregnant missing my period is not how I’m gonna find out 😅)).

If possible for maximum comedy I’d try to keep Dream in denial up until the birth, but Hob will probably bring the subject back up a little more forcefully when Dream starts showing. At first it could be dismissed as a little weight gain (and that’s what Dream definitely thinks it is), but at a certain point it’s clear that that’s a baby bump, it’s literally a baby bump, Dream do you have something you’d like to share???

They finally sit down and clear everything up, then they can both have a little freak out as a treat, that Dream is pregnant, they’re gonna be dads, holy shit they are so behind they need to schedule all the appointments yesterday.

-🪽anon

My love for this au never ends!!!! And I do have a huge soft spot for a Dream who is very obviously pregnant and very much in denial about it. Maybe he insists that Hob has just been feeding him too well! And Hob is staring at the very round very obvious bump (which occasionally ripples as the baby begins to move around and throw punches). Admittedly he likes to keep Dream eating plenty of nutritious meals, but his lasagnes definitely didn't do THAT.

I think deep, deep down Dream knows that he's having a baby, but he's very scared and kind of hoping the whole situation will go away if he ignores it. He still doesn't know HOW he got into this mess. Did him and Hob get married with out realising it? Dream is so confused and anxious and he wants a nine month nap and a hug. Instead he gets a baby (and a boyfriend who loves him very much and is who is NOT going to put his dick inside Dream without a condom for a very, very long time).

Nevertheless, the expectant parents are very very excited!!!! Hob is telling everyone he knows that his boyfriend is pregnant!!!! He's got a lil miracle in his belly!!!! Hob’s gonna be a daddy for real!!!! And Dream pulls off the most beautiful, iconic, celebratory trans pregnancy to the point where the entire campus is invested, and bigots everywhere are drowning in ire and envy.

It's especially nice that their baby, aged around 18 months, gets to be the guest of honour when they do get married. Dream and Hob get a night off from parenting their little one and have a very raunchy consummation of their marriage in their hotel room........ where Dream suggests that now they're actually married, maybe it's time to try for another baby?

Hob takes great pleasure in chucking the condoms out into the corridor. Time to make a baby with his HUSBAND <3

#🪽anon #the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw pregnancy #trans dream

[leviackermanscleaningbuddy]

Hi Hi this is my first time participating in one of these so please tell me if I did it wrong. But for the Prompt game number 2 could you do minsung and reader 24 and 48?? Or honestly anyone lol

Also I love your writing and I hope you’re doing well 🥰

SKZ Prompt Game

Prompts: "You're trembling."

"You make me want things I can't have."

Genre: Light Angst, Fluff, Light Smut

Members: Han Jisung, Lee Minho

Relationship: Established Minho x Fem!Reader x Roommate Jisung

Warning: Mentions of Nightmares, Cheating (but not really, you'll see)

"Lee Minho, are you asking me to babysit your roommate?"

Minho makes a little sort of disgruntled sound in the back of his throat, huffing a humorless laugh into the other end of the phone.

"He doesn't like to be alone."

You roll your eyes, toeing off your shoes and pinching the phone between your shoulder and ear as you head into the kitchen, depositing your work bag onto the counter.

"Jisung really can't handle staying by himself for two nights while you're gone? I do it all the time, you know. Every time you guys plan one of your little weekend guy trips." You huff out, though you're not quite as put out as your words would entail.

"Please, baby?" Minho pleads teasingly, his voice dropping in tone, into a whisper, in a way that he knows you can't resist. "For me?"

You sigh, long and hard, and you can almost feel your boyfriend smiling through the phone.

He knows he's got you.

And honestly, spending the weekend with Jisung won't be too much of a chore. You like him. And you both like to play video games, and eat pizza, and talk shit on Minho.

How bad could it really be?

"Fine." You grumble out, hoping Minho can sense your glare on the other end of the phone, just like you can sense his absolute glee. "But he's buying the pizza."

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

"Holy fuck, this is gonna be so fun!" Jisung announces, taking your small overnight bag from you almost immediately and chucking it onto the couch Minho had made you help him pick out months before.

You open your mouth to scold him, to say that hey, maybe some of your shit is kind of fragile? but before you can even get so much as one word out, Jisung has swooped you into a bear hug, squeezing all the air, and protests, right from your lungs.

"Thanks for agreeing to stay." He murmurs against the crown of your head, and you can't help it, you nod back without really thinking.

"Yeah, of course."

Jisung releases you with a huge, heart shaped grin, and you try not to notice how the cologne he wears-something a little bit spicy and lined with floral-contrasts so sharply, and altogether pleasantly, with the scent Minho always dons-dark and woodsy.

Minho appears, his work bag slung over his shoulder, his brow raised.

"Can you please refrain from greeting my girlfriend before me?" He queries dryly, glancing over to Jisung, before he leans over to press a kiss to your lips. "Hi, baby."

"No can do, hyung." Jisung grins, flopping down onto the couch next to your discarded bag, his long fingers pushing some of his dark hair out of his eyes. "Early bird gets the worm."

You laugh. "That doesn't even make sense."

Jisung's eyes glitter with amusement and he gives a little shrug.

"Sure it does. I'm the bird, you're the worm, and Minho-hyung is the cat who missed out."

"Cats don't eat worms." Minho mutters back, though there's amusement in his tone, as he leans in to give you another quick kiss.

He pats the pocket of his jacket, making sure he has his wallet and passport, and you straighten his button down shirt beneath as you give him a slight smile.

"Ready?"

He nods. "Yeah, I better get going." He glances to Jisung sternly. "Behave while I'm gone."

Jisung winks. "I always do."

Minho sighs with resignation and turns back to you, tilting his head toward the door and his waiting suitcase. "Walk me out?"

You nod, and he takes your hand, using his free one to grab the suitcase and open the door for the two of you.

"Bye, hyungie!" Jisung calls in a teasing sing song sort of voice as the door closes behind you.

Minho slows his step to match your own, glancing at his watch, and then squinting into the sun let in through the slats of the apartment walkway.

"Are you going to be late?" You ask, tightening your fingers around his own.

Minho shakes his head a little distractedly. "No, I'll be fine." He glances sidelong at you, and his expression grows serious. "Baby, about Jisung-"

You give a little laugh at the concern in his tone. "What? Think he'll eat me or something while you're gone?'' You arch a brow at him with a little smirk. "C'mon, baby, don't worry so much. Jisung and I are friends too, you know."

Minho sighs and rakes a hand through his hair, glancing past you. "I know. That's not what I'm worried about."

He pulls you to a stop, and the smile drops from your face at his worried expression.

"Min?" You ask, suddenly nervous for some reason.

Minho glances down at you, and reaches up to swipe a stray strand of hair from your forehead with a little smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"He has nightmares."

You stare at him, uncomprehending, and he squeezes your hands in his own, standing there in the middle of the hallway.

"Jisung. He doesn't like to talk about it, but he's been through some pretty messed up shit, and it messes with his head sometimes." Minho sighs, long and resigned, and a muscle ticks slightly in his jaw. You resist the urge to reach up and smooth it away.

"And when I say nightmares, I'm talking full fledged night terrors. Between the two of us, we've figured out some ways to deal with them, help them end more quickly, but he can't stand to be alone after they're over. Which is why I asked-"

"Me to stay with him while you're gone." You breathe out, finally putting the pieces together.

Minho nods. "Yeah. And I'm sorry to put you in this position, but he's my oldest friend, and I lo-" He stops for a minute, considering his words, and then continues. "-care about him."

You squeeze his hand. "I get it. I do. I'd do anything for you, so I understand how you feel the same way about Jisung."

Minho's expression lightens a little bit. "You do?"

"Of course." You smile up at him softly and lean up to press a lingering kiss to his lips. "And I promise, I will take good care of him, okay? Because no matter what you think, I care about Jisung too."

Minho smiles gently, and gives you another kiss. "I know you do, baby. Thank you."

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

"Fuck, I'm tired." You stretch, pushing the blanket off of your lap and standing, grabbing the pizza box to throw it away.

Jisung looks up from where he's sitting on the opposite end of the couch, controller still held in his hand, eyes wide.

"Really? You sure you don't want to go another round?" Something mischievous glints in his eyes and he smirks at you. "Or are you scared I'll kick your ass again?"

"You couldn't kick my ass if you tried., Han Jisung." You retort back, sticking your tongue out at him. "But it's also one AM, and I haven't stayed up this late since I was in college."

Jisung grins back, bounding up to help you throw away the take out containers and soda cans.

"Well then, time for you to live a little."

"Jisung-" You start to sigh, throwing away the empty pizza box and turning to face him.

Your words die on your tongue at how close he is, you hadn't realized he'd come up right behind you while you were talking.

Your nose is almost brushing the tip of his.

Something weird swarms in the pit of your stomach as you stare into his large, dark eyes.

"Yes?" He questions back with the hint of amused innocent, his eyebrow ticking upward as he stares at you, staring at him.

You open your mouth to say something, anything-you should back up a few feet, or a hundred, I should go to bed right this goddamn instant-but nothing comes out.

Jisung cocks his head, and then he takes a step back, something unreadable going across his face as he laughs a little and finally drops your gaze.

"Yeah, you're probably right." He acquiesces, still not looking at you, the air between you awkward now. "It's late. We should hit the hay."

The forced casualness in his voice has something heavy settling into the pit of your stomach.

"Yeah, yeah-" You stumble over the words, desperate to get out of the kitchen and away from him suddenly. You skirt along the wall, trying to increase the space between you as you give him a forced smile. "-see you in the morning, Jisung."

Jisung opens his mouth, as if he's about to say something more, but you hightail it out of the kitchen and down the hallway to your room, locking the door before you can give yourself the chance to find out what it was.

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

You don't know how long you've been asleep when you're woken by a thud against the wall Minho's room shares with Jisung's, and the sound of something, or multiple somethings, crashing to the floor.

You give your heart a moment to stop pounding in your chest, listening for any more sounds, and when you don't hear anything, you creep from Minho's bed and down the hall.

Standing outside Jisung's still closed door, you hesitate only briefly, before you raise your fist and knock softly.

"Jisung?" You call out quietly, waiting for a response. When there is none, you try again. "Jisung?"

There is the sound of shuffling from inside, and then it falls silent again.

Gathering your courage, you push open the door silently, and stare into the darkened room, letting your eyes adjust for a moment.

There's Jisung's bed-empty-his bedside table-clear of all items, including his lamp and alarm clock, now in a pile on the floor-and then-

"Jisung." You whisper, and without thinking, you hurry across the small room, crouching down in front of him.

He's huddled in the corner farthest from the bed, his comforter pulled up like a hood around his head, curled in on himself for safety.

You can tell, even in the lack of light, that his knuckles are white where they hold the blanket too tightly against his body.

"Jisung." You repeat, because it's the only thing you can think to say in this moment. You cautiously reach forward to touch his hand. "Are you okay?"

He stares at you for a moment, as if confused that you're here, in his room, in front of him, and then he shakes his head, as if to clear his brain of unwanted thoughts, and gives you the fakest half smile you've ever seen.

"Y-yeah-" He stutters out, eyes large and dark and a little too shiny in the dark.

You close your fingers around his own, and his entire body shakes beneath your touch.

"You're trembling." You murmur worriedly, watching the way his muscles shudder beneath the safety of the blanket, as if his body is in fight or flight.

It probably is from what Minho had said.

"It's an after effect." Jisung mumbles back, dropping his gaze from your own now, as he stares at your hand still covering his own. "Of the nightmares."

You feel helpless, crouched before him, unsure of what to do, watching him shatter before your eyes.

You swallow, and reach up your fingers to shove aside some of his thick dark hair, damp with sweat, from his eyes, and he stares at you for a moment, expression doubtful.

"What can I do?" You ask in a whisper, scooting a little closer to him, pressing your thigh up against his, hoping the bodily contact will comfort him a little. "Minho didn't tell me how he usually helps, but-"

Jisung's eyes widen a little, his lips pulling down into a grim line. "Minho told you he helps me with the nightmares?"

You give a little shrug of your shoulder, confused. "Well, yeah, he wanted to make sure I knew what to do while he was gone. And he cares about you."

Jisung stares a little longer, and then he looks away, clearing his throat.

Slowly, one by one, his fingers uncurl from around the blanket.

"I think I'm okay now." He admits softly, a slight wobble in his voice that belies his lie. "But, if you could just sit with me for a little bit? So I'm not alone?"

He glances back to you hopefully and you instantly nod, sliding so your back is against the wall beside his, body pressed close.

"Of course I can, Jisung. Always."

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

The next night, the nightmares are worse.

You're woken up by the sound of terror, and without having to think, your feet fly down the hallway and into Jisung's room, finding him writhing on the bed, tangled in his blankets.

"Jisung, Jisung!" You shake him a little, trying to pull him back from the brink of his own mind.

He stops writhing, staring at you blankly-or through you more accurately-and the dead expression on his face and in his dark, usually expressive eyes scares you.

Without thinking, you climb into the bed and lie on top of him, pressing your body heavily down onto his own.

You'd read somewhere that having another person's body weight on top of you helps with panic attacks, so why not nightmares?

You're out of your depth, you don't know what the hell you're doing, but you have to do something, have to bring Jisung back.

"It's okay." You whisper, reaching up to cautiously start stroking his hair. "It's okay. I'm here. You're here."

Jisung's muscles are tense beneath your own, his whole body still shuddering from the after effects of the horrible nightmare, but slowly, beneath the weight of your own, the violent shudders die down to silent trembling.

"It's okay." You just keep murmuring over and over and over, like a mantra, filling the space between the two of you. "It's okay."

Jisung takes in a deep breath, his chest rising and falling rapidly beneath your own, and carefully, you raise your head, meeting his gaze, your fingers stilling their movements on his hair.

"I'm sorry." He murmurs out, voice hoarse and shaky, a single tear creeping from the corner of his eye and down his cheek.

"Don't be sorry." You reply back softly, resuming your combing of his hair and he leans into the touch, like a cat seeking the security of affection. "It's not your fault."

"Yeah, but Minho, and you-" Jisung starts, taking in a shuddering breath, his body convulsing beneath your own.

"Care about you a whole fucking lot." You finish for him resolutely, daring to come up on your elbows now that the majority of his shuddering has worn off, meeting his gaze firmly. "You have nothing to apologize for. We wouldn't be here if we didn't want to be."

Jisung holds your gaze for another moment and then nods, looking away. "Okay."

"Okay." You repeat, before you suddenly realize that your body is still flush with Jisung's. You shove yourself up on your hands, face going hot. "If you're okay then-"

Panic comes across Jisung's face and you freeze, his body once again going instantly tense beneath your own as he grabs your upper arms in a vice like grip.

"Please don't leave."

You stare down at him, pleading silently with you with large, dark, scared eyes, and you finally nod, settling back down on top of him again, elbows propping you up so you can see his face.

"Okay, I won't."

You study him for a moment in the dark, the slope of his nose, the full swell of his bottom lip, the doe eyes hidden beneath long, dark hair.

Without really considering, you reach out and trace his lips softly with the pad of your thumb.

Jisung freezes beneath the touch, and you feel your cheeks heat once more as you move to pull away.

"I'm sorry-"

Jisung's fingers loop around your wrist, keeping you in place, your fingers hovering just over his mouth. His lips part, and you can feel the warmth of his breath wash over your fingertips.

The sensation sends a tingle down your spine.

"You make me want things I can't have."

His voice is so soft that you think you've misheard him, and confusion washes across your face, the words jostling together in your brain in a way that doesn't make sense.

Maybe he's talking about you and Minho? About a relationship?

"What? Me and Minho?" You question back dumbly, still trying to piece together what he's just admitted to you.

"Yeah." Jisung says softly, gaze still never leaving your own, breath still washing over your fingers. "You. And Minho."

There's something behind the words, the way he repeats it after you, and suddenly, it clicks into place.

You laugh a little, you can't help it, and Jisung looks caught off guard.

"Jisung." You say his name like a sigh, like you're releasing a secret you've kept for ages. "All you have to do is ask him. Minho fucking loves you. I've known forever, but I've been waiting for him to bring it up."

Jisung's eyes grow wider. "Minho loves me?"

You nod. "Yeah." Something quiet and sad colors your tone as you stare at him, the boy you both secretly want, the boy Minho could have if he just said the word. It's not so simple for you. "I see it in the way he looks at you, the way he talks about you."

"And you're okay with that?" Jisung asks, slight doubt filtering into his tone.

You huff a laugh. "Yeah. I love Minho, and he loves me, but he also loves you, and I'm not opposed" You give him a slight smile. "I can share."

Jisung takes in your words for a moment, and then he releases his hold on your wrist, letting you sit up fully this time, scooting away from him on the bed.

He heaves himself up, untangling himself from the blanket. "What about you?"

His question catches you off guard, and you shrug slightly. "What about me?"

Jisung's face pinches slightly. "Well, I-"

You give a humorless little chuckle, glancing to him now. "You don't have to say it, Jisung. I don't have to be part of this equation. It's okay."

The words hurt your heart, but you remain stoic.

Jisung stares at you for a long, everlasting moment, and then he inches closer to you, taking your face in his hands in a bold move.

You suck in a surprised breath, but hold still as he studies you.

"I bet Minho likes kissing you."

You stare back at him, trying to puzzle out where this is going, but you're tired of thinking, so you just say back, "Yeah."

Jisung lets his thumb drop to trace your mouth, like you had done moments before to him, and his gaze falls to the part of your lips underneath his touch.

"And you like it when Minho kisses you."

You stare back at him, heat pooling in your stomach the longer the staring contest, the gentle touches, go on.

"Yes."

Jisung cocks his head, giving you a little knowing look, and then he leans forward, and it takes everything in you to freeze, as his lips brush across the column of your throat.

It's like electricity has shot through your entire body, igniting the warm pool in the pit of your stomach into something ravenous.

"Do you like it when he kisses you here?"

"Yes." You whisper back, and Jisung hums in acknowledgement, moving his lips lower against your skin, pulling your t-shirt to the side so he can press open mouth kisses to your shoulder.

"And here?"

"Mmhm." You murmur back,breathless.

Jisung glances up at you, a slight smirk pulling at his full mouth.

"And what does Minho like?"

"He likes-" You think for a moment, it's a hard feat with Jisung's lips on you. "-when I tangle my hands in his hair."

You let your hands slide into Jisung's thick, dark hair, tugging him closer to you, back up to your mouth, his lips hovering over your own.

"What else?" Jisung breathes out, his gaze flicking down to your tongue, darting out to wet your lips.

"He likes me in his lap." You murmur back, and before you can overthink it, you straddle Jisung on the bed, knees going down on either side of his hips, hands going to his shoulders.

Jisung leans back on his hands and he's staring up at you now with open hunger, pupils large and dark.

"And I bet you like it when he puts his hands here."

He lets his hands slip beneath your t-shirt, taking purchase on your hips, fingers digging into your skin.

You nod, it's becoming harder to think the longer this little game goes on.

"I do."

Jisung hums, smirking up at you once more, tilting his head as he watches you.

"Although-" You tease, reaching out to play with them of his own t-shirt. "-he's usually not wearing so many clothes when we do this."

Jisung grins, and with one smooth movement, easily pulls his shirt off and over his head, tossing it to the floor.

"Better?"

"Much."

"What else?" Jisung prods, and you're more than happy to accept his challenge.

"He likes when I kiss him-" You lean in, and after a breath's hesitation, press your mouth over Jisung's.

Fuck, he tastes amazing, and he's so pliable, so responsive, sliding his tongue in between your lips almost instantly, making you gasp into his open mouth.

You pull back, just a sliver, just enough to say, "-and when I use teeth."

You lean back into him, and suck his full bottom lip between your teeth, letting them graze the plush skin slowly as you release your hold.

Beneath you, Jisung shudders in response, and you can feel him hardening beneath you.

"I bet he likes when you're a tease." Jisung replies breathlessly when you pull back, pupils large and dark, lips red and slick. "So fucking hot."

"He does." You smirk, arching a brow. "And he also likes when I grind down on him."

You give him your weight then, lowering yourself fully into his lap, grinding your hips on him, and Jisung groans, throwing his head back, as his eyes roll back into his head.

"Fuck-" His hands on your hips pin you down, stopping your movements, and he pants for breath for a moment before opening his eyes, his expression hot.

"You like feeling him, like feeling what you're doing to him."

His words send molten heat straight between your thighs, and you whine a little at his hold, pinning you in place.

Jisung smirks, releasing you, before he reaches to slip off his sweats.

Your mouth waters as he's bared completely before you.

You've never stripped out of your own clothes so fast.

Moving back to straddle him, Jisung groans at the feel of how wet you are against his skin.

His fingers go back to bruising your hips, and his own buck up beneath you.

"God, I bet he loves feeling you, seeing you take him."

You nod, manuevering yourself, and stare down at him for a moment, the large dark doe eyes, the slight pant of his open lips.

Jisung is fucking pretty.

But you knew that already.

"He does." You confirm, voice breathy, as you feel him against you. "But he likes it most when I take him all at once."

Without warning, you sink down, and Jisung's eyes once again disappear into the back of his skull.

His fingers grip you painfully, and you whimper, but it's a sound of pleasure, as he groans and focuses back on you, leaning up to capture your lips in a bruising kiss as he starts to move.

"Fuck, Jisung-" You gasp out, stars bursting before your vision.

The second his name leaves your lips, you freeze.

"I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"Don't." Jisung growls, tugging you in for another rough kiss, his words and breath searing your skin. "Don't ever apologize for saying my name. I want to fucking hear it on your lips for the rest of my life."

He lifts his hips against your own, kissing you hard, and you gasp, and you know, there's no going back now, not ever.

"Jisung."

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

You're lying next to Jisung in the small space of his twin bed, staring at the ceiling, completely and utterly spent.

Your body is deliciously sore, and his hand in your own is a comforting weight.

You can't help the small smile that crosses your lips as you hear him shift beside you.

There's a flare of guilt deep in your gut, but you shove it down to deal with later.

"Hey." Jisung whispers, rolling over to flop his arm across your bare waist and brush his lips across your neck.

You meet his gaze. "Hey."

He smiles shyly at you, fingers playing with your own.

"I think Minho really likes you."

You stare at him, a small smile crossing your own lips. You lean forward to press a kiss to the corner of his heart shaped mouth.

"I think I really like him too."

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

You're drinking coffee at Jisung and Minho's small kitchen table when Minho gets home, tossing his work bag onto the couch and coming directly for you.

"Hey, baby." He leans down behind your chair, encircling you with his arms, and you smile, tilting your head back so he can reach your lips.

"Hey."

"I missed you." He nuzzles his nose into your cheek, and you give a little laugh.

"I'd forgotten how clingy you get after a work trip, Lee Minho." You tease, reaching up to brush hair back from his forehead as you give him another quick kiss. "I missed you too."

"Watch it." Minho growls teasingly, tickling you before he gives you another kiss and straightens up.

Jisung appears then, headed directly for the cabinet for his own mug to fill with coffee.

"Hey, where's my hello kiss?" He pouts, staring at Minho, as he fills up his coffee and comes to sit beside you at the table.

Minho arches a brow and stares him down. "Do you deserve one?"

Jisung gives him a sweetly innocent smile. "Always."

You swallow a too large gulp of your hot coffee, and suddenly wonder when you should break the news to the man now getting his own glass of the morning beverage.

Luckily, Minho beats you to the punch.

"So." He says casually, leaning against the counter and glancing between the two of you, sipping from his mug. "Did you two finally fuck then?"

You choke on the liquid in your mouth, and Jisung promptly spits his own mouthful of coffee across the table in a fine spray.

"What?" You both shriek at the same time, staring at Minho.

He appears completely nonplussed, holding both of your astounded gazes with nothing more than a shrug.

"The two of you. Did you finally get over your weird stubborn guilt complexes and fuck?"

You stare at him like he's grown a second head.

Jisung narrows his eyes from across the table, staring down your boyfriend.

"Wait-" His voice grows with disbelief. "-did you plan this?"

Minho gives another little shrug, but there's a smirk on his lips that he hides behind his coffee mug as he takes another sip.

"I did have a work trip. Just turned out the timing was impeccable."

"I cannot believe you." You gasp out, feeling a mixture of outrage and relief all at once.

Minho knows. He knows, and he's okay with it. Actually, more than okay, he'd been gunning for this to happen by the looks of it.

Minho grins, flashing sharp teeth.

"C'mon, baby. You and Jisung are too stupid and loyal to figure it out on your own. I needed to give you a little push."

"But-" You splutter out, trying to decide if you should take offense at his words and punch him or promptly cross the kitchen and kiss him. "-you're one to talk! You've been in love with Jisung for forever!"

"Yeah!" Jisung points at you, as if you've made a hell of a point, and then to Minho. "When were you gonna make a move, hyung?"

"Han Jisung." Minho says sternly, pinning the other man beneath his gaze. "I don't give up sleep for just anyone."

Minho puts his empty coffee cup in the sink and crosses to you, placing his hands on your shoulders, still staring at Jisung.

"Look, I needed the two of you to figure it out on your own, but I also needed to orchestrate it so you both knew I wasn't upset. Quite the contrary actually." He smirks and puts a hand under your chin, raising your gaze to his. "You have my blessing."

"I'm literally so pissed right now. You're an asshole, hyung." Jisung mutters, glaring at your boyfriend, tapping his finger on the table. "But that's also so fucking hot."

You swallow beneath Minho's hand, and he notices, smirk growing wider.

"I hate you."

His brow ticks upward. "No, you don't."

You sigh. "No, I don't."

"So." Minho releases you and tilts his head toward his discarded luggage on the couch. "Unpacking can wait. Care to show me what the two of you figured out while I was gone?"

#skz #stray kids #stay #skz drabble #skz prompt game #prompt game #minho #lee minho #han jisung #jisung #minsung #femreader #y/n #skz x you #skz x reader #minsung x you #minsung x reader #skz fluff #skz angst #skz smut #skz imagines #skz reactions #skz scenarios #inbox #my submissions #submission #skz fic #skz fanfic #lee know #han

[ohanny]

stabby murder husbands kentakim au!

does this make much sense? no. is it going to be long? yes. am i sometimes very happy about what my mentally ill lil brain cooks up while i sleep? very much so.

tony chen is a rotten super villain in every universe but in this one kenta was his assassin until he finally had enough, turned on his master during the bloodiest night known in these circles, john wick style, and then disappeared off the face of the earth. was tony running the high table? how deep does the lore go? who knows. i was asleep. my brain did not have the capacity to figure it all out.

flash forward some years. kenta is living a normal life. he has a boring office job. he’s reconnected with babe, his estranged brother who ran away from home at the first sight of sketchy activities and was spared from all of tony’s bullshit. unfortunately for kenta, babe - happily married and pregnant - is channelling all his extra hormones and boredom into a mission to socialize his hermit crab of an older brother.

which is how kenta ends up eating dinner in babe and charlie’s warehouse loft of doom, sitting opposite of kim - a regular customer at the couple’s garage and a casual friend. it’s an awkward affair because a) kim can't stop staring b) babe keeps shooting these looks at kenta all “see, i brought you a hot ginger, do something with it” and c) kenta would much rather be at home. unsurprisingly, when kim offers him a ride home at the end of the evening, kenta says no.

this turns out to be a bad call because on his way home, kenta gets jumped. it happens sometimes - after all, he was tony’s weapon for over a decade and made a lot of enemies, no one can escape their past without occasionally being haunted by it. except this time when he limps out of the alleyway, clutching a minor stab wound on his side, there is a car idling by the pavement.

it's kim, rolling down the window and telling kenta to get his ass in. against his better judgment kenta does.

kim speeds off the scene of the crime with the kind of ease and confidence kenta has only ever seen from babe. it quickly becomes apparent that he knows way more about kenta than he should because he starts asking about cameras and when kenta just stares blankly - bleeding all over the nice upholstery - kim laughs and says “don’t worry, even if you got a bit rusty and missed one, i know a guy. or two. since they live with me you'll meet them soon anyway.”

and fuck, kenta should have just trusted his instincts instead of chalking kim making him nervous up to having someone so pretty pay any level of attention to him. he finally finds his voice (and lowkey also his knife) and demands to know who the hell kim is or if he's even called that. “oh i am,” kim answers gleefully, “and you could say i’m a… freelancer.” which, great. just amazing. kenta is being kidnapped by some amateur bounty hunter and his day officially couldn't get any worse.

… but it does. because once they reach their destination, the second he's ushered into an apartment he's greeted by an obnoxiously loud scream of “holy shit, he actually did it!” followed by a slightly less obnoxiously loud “our kimmy here is a big fan!” and then “oh fuck he’s bleeding all over the place, get the med kit dumbass!” and kenta realizes he wasn't kidnapped by some amateur bounty hunter. he was kidnapped by a fucking fan boy. on the bright side they do seem to be capable of basic wound care so there's that.

(yes, the trio is living their best mercenary vigilante life. kenta’s purge of tony happened right as kim was getting into the game and he went full “holy fucking shit, this man took down tony fucking chen and got away with it?” and basically became obsessed with the legendary lore of john wick kenta. so imagine how pumped he was when babe of all people introduced him to his ultimate murder crush goals)

kim: obviously you'll need to stay the night since you're so injured. You can have my room. i’ll just sleep with north and sonic.

kenta: …

sonic: you have a problem with three men sleeping together?

kenta: … no?

north: great! but if you hypothetically did you could ask kim to share with you instead because trust me, he's like super interes -

kim: shut up or i’ll evict you.

north: pls, whose day job is paying the bills here since you only take on charity cases?

kim: my name is on the lease! and i'm being a good person!

sonic: honey, you kill people.

this is where i got with my dream sequence but other things that just make sense in this verse:

the first person kim ever killed was winner. he was a toxic college hook up who kim dumped after few gos but who wouldn't take no for an answer. kim could have dealt with him being a dick on campus but then he started harassing kim’s dorm mates, north and sonic and kim just… snapped.

it all came to head on an alley behind a trashy gay bar. winner tried to grab sonic and kim honestly just meant to beat the shit out of him but went too far. when they read the news the next day it's weird. none of them regret it. they’re happy about it. and when no one knocks on their door to ask any questions, they realize how easy it actually is to get rid of a bad person.

the second person kim kills is a campus dirtbag who likes slipping shit into girls’ drinks and taking them home. they plan it all together but kim goes out alone and after… he's a mess. winner was a crime of passion in the heat of the moment but this is something different. he's all keyed up. he can't settle down and paces around their living room. a man is dead and he thinks he got off clean but only time will tell. he's nervous and elated and half-hard and full of adrenaline and it's sonic who nudges north and goes “look at the poor thing, we should take care of him.”

the night ends with kim’s head on sonic’s lap, sonic’s fingers in his hair, telling him he did well and he's so good when he cries as he's getting fucked into the mattress by north. kim wakes up sandwiched between them, in a mess of limbs. he has a very brief freak out about what the happened - the sex, not the murder - but north shushes him, telling him it’s not a big deal. “we love you, hyungie” sonic shrugs and pecks his cheek. “you two get some more rest and i’ll bring breakfast, okay?” and that's that.

needless to say kenta is in for a culture shock with the northsonickim arrangement. like he's taking a shower with kim and things are getting good when sonic barges into the bathroom, yanks the shower curtain back and goes on a rant of “kim, you gotta tell north to do the laundry because it was his turn but he forgot and now my favorite pants still have cum stains on them!” and kenta is like “um, excuse us?” but kim just rolls his eyes and proceeds to yell for north and then has an entire damn conversation with his dick out while kenta just stands there all 🧍‍♂️. (after he's done chewing north out for the laundry, he turns to sonic like “and you! we talked about this! kenta is new, we don't want to spook him!”)

the whole murder thing will be another conflict. kenta is happily retired. he killed because that's what he was raised to do and he didn't have any other options until he did. kim though? kim kills because he wants to. kim kills because he believes certain people deserve to die.

kim: i have a date with a wife beater at 2am. wanna come?

kenta: stop calling them dates. and you shouldn't be so… flippant about it.

kim, smirking while pulling on his leather gloves: don't tell me you never enjoyed it.

while kenta’s kills were always obvious hits, done using knives and guns, kim likes to deliver justice personally. he warms up using his hands and finishes the job with whatever blunt object he can pick up.

one time kenta’s boring office job takes him out of town for business and kim is climbing the walls. he calls kenta all “please quit and just become a hit man again, the pay is better and you'd be home when i need you” and kenta sighs because yes, his job is boring but he's trying his best to be normal and he has a morning meeting. so he tells kim to go occupy himself with north and sonic

kim: wait.. What?

kenta: don't you guys have sex with each other all the time?

kim: we did, BEFORE i met you

kenta: … huh. well. go fuck or get fucked or whatever before you start hunting pedestrians for stress relief.

kim: is this a trap?

kenta: no? i would never mess with whatever the three of you have.

Kim barging into north and sonic’s room, growling at them to take their clothes off and sonic’s first reaction is “oh shit, they broke up” but then kim’s like “dick first, rings second, i’m going to wife that man so hard he won't know what hit him” and everyone cheers and no one feels bad about having a pre-engagement celebration threesome not involving one of the grooms.

also, pete? did he step up after tony’s death? does he run a business like the continental? is way his weird attic wife that fucked himself over in the business and now can't step a foot outside the hotel without getting his brains blown out the less fun way? in any case he would have an eye on both kenta (because their whole… brotherhood) and kim (because kim is a wild card and truly independent and neither follows nor knows the code).

#pit babe the series #kentakim #northsonic #northsonickim #please play in my sandbox with or without me

[cuckoo-on-a-string]

Hello, Mr. Monster (One. Sand)

Morpheus x OC/reader (female), Soulmate AU, Eros and Psyche retelling

Chapter track: "The Killing Moon" by Echo & The Bunnymen

18+ (smut/spice kicks off in next chapter)

Warnings: (non-sexual) violence against a child, tarot, herbal medicine/witchcraft

TAGGING: Tag lists break my posts, BUT I reply to comments the day of new chapters, so you'll get a personal update every time you stop to chat. ;)

A/N: Welcome! Enjoy. Holy shit, friends, we're gonna have some fun.

@moon-tracks: Your much delayed prompt has born fruit! Goblin fruit, I'm afraid. Hope you enjoy!

One: Sand

One: Sand

Soulmates were more dream than reality.

Not that they weren’t real and true in the waking world, but humans liked nothing better than to bury their truths, especially the dangerous ones, the beautiful ones that blossomed with thorns and teeth. Everything that made a soulmate – dreams and desires; destiny, delirium, and despair; even death and destruction – tallied among the Endless and thrived in the subconscious.

And true to humanity’s intrinsic contradictions, each soul wanted nothing more than to find its mate and feared nothing so much as a true match.

Such beautiful, sharp things. The unseelie who kept the little tent at the gates of the goblin market under Brown Bridge liked making terrible, terrible gifts of them. The process was bloody, and the results devastating. Revealing a soulmate required some scratching – deep inside, through a human’s mortality, which kept the conscious and unconscious apart. But what happened next in the months and years of their tattered mortal lives is why they did it.

Parting the veil so one soulmate could know the other without any kind of reciprocity always led to doom. A human would do anything for their soulmate once they found them, knew them. Their intense affections led to obsession more often than not. Sometimes it turned violent, and they destroyed the thing they loved, the one who did not recognize their mate. Despair claimed others who turned destruction on themselves. Because of the damage to their mortality, that often took great effort and multiple attempts.

High drama. A wonderful show.

And the unseelie found the softest victims to dance for their amusement.

Their tent sat just outside the gates of the market proper, where any mortal might see them and mistake them for a homeless citizen warding off the river wind in their simple tent.

The trap was simple: they glamoured a few leaves into dollars and let one or two go tumbling down the way. Any human who snatched the leaves and ran earned a curse. Their pockets and wallets would grow holes. Or they’d lose all love, passion, and interest in whatever they spent the false money on – it could be a bowl of chili or a bauble for a lover. Whether they lost interest in eating or forgot their lover, they quickly lost the unseelie’s attention, too.

The mortals who returned the money had a darker fate. A lovely dream with hidden razor while to tangle them deep. The unseelie thanked them and offered to reveal a bit of the victim’s fortune, to see who they would fall in love with. Most accepted the offer, simply to humor them. An unseelie could be most persuasive.

One snowy day, after the festive season had passed and all humanity’s generosity dried up in the harsh winds of the new year, a little girl picked up the tumbling leaves.

She brought them back, pinched in mittened hands, a smile glowing under her breeze-chafed cheeks. A little adventurer who’d escaped her parents’ attention, all unbroken hope and unsullied naivety. The sort of pretty fruit, the unseelie might be tempted to pluck from her mortal life – if it weren’t for her damned eyes.

They knew what the child saw the moment they looked. The girl saw with true sight. Fighting the urge to cringe away from the attention cutting straight through their glamour, the unseelie smiled back, all teeth. The child didn’t even flinch, only holding out the money out for long, black nails to pluck from her grasp.

“I think these are yours,” she said.

The unseelie snarled through their smile, seething with hate. It flared like a fresh blaze from a banked fire at the child’s presumption. “Thank you. I must give you a boon in thanks.”

Shaking her head so the pompoms on the end of her hat’s ties swung around her neck, she said, “I don’t need anything.”

“I don’t offer toys or trinkets, child. Don’t you want to know the name of the one you’ll love?”

“I already love lots of people.” The child pondered. “That sounds like it would take a long time. I meet someone new to love every year at school. Or when we get new neighbors, or –”

A little sharper than they intended, the unseelie injected. “A soulmate, child. Your true love. Like in the stories your kind so loves.”

That gave the child pause. The unseelie could practically see the animated films rolling behind their eyes, the pretty picture books and saccharine romances.

Careful to maintain their smile, they added, “It’s a secret only someone like me can reveal. You’ve done me a favor. Now I must return it. You would not keep me bound, would you?”

Little eyebrows flew up over wide eyes, and the child all but leapt to accept their offer. “No! I don’t. Okay. You can tell me the secret, and then you’ll be free, right?”

With one long arm, they lifted the flap of their tent, revealing a space much too large for the sagging frame to contain. With the other, they caught the girl around the waist and pulled her gently within. “Of course, of course. Come inside where it is warm.”

The little fool did.

She looked around with eyes of wonder, eyes the unseelie desperately wanted to pluck from her face, but a lifetime of suffering would hurt far more. And they’d promised, after all.

They ushered the child to pile of cushions, and she plopped down like she was about to hear a story before bed. Far too trusting. Far too confident in the kind world shaped by her parents’ guidance and protection.

Their anguish and grief would taste so deliciously sweet.

Without preamble or further misleading truths, they let the fabric fall, sealing them in a bubble realm where no one would interrupt the procedure. Then they lunged, pinning the child to the cushions by the shoulder as they scrabbled between planes of matter to find her mortal shroud.

The impact briefly knocked the air from her lungs, but she started bleating as the unseelie’s talons scraped against the partition between aspects of the human soul, those only united in death. Those cursed eyes watered, overflowed, and the unseelie hissed with naked malice and pleasure as they scratched away more and more of the golden curtain, hunting for the promised name while inflicting as much damage as possible.

The tiny thing struggled, trying to pull the arm away from where it disappeared into her puffy coat. But she was neither strong or magically savvy enough to accomplish the deed. All she could do was shriek and suffer, calling for help that would not come in a world apart. Her tiny fingers, flashing with glittery nail polish, tried clawing back, angling up at her attacker’s face, but her arms couldn’t reach.

The pattern of the child’s wyrd emerged from her subconscious, the weave of action and fate intertwined as paths and crossroads to create a life. The unseelie felt it hum and shudder under their questing talons, watched as subtle shifts adjusted around their presence, forever altering the girl’s course.

And finally – a name.

Morpheus

They froze.

The girl nearly wriggled free as they stilled, elbow-deep in her essence.

For the first time in their long life, the unseelie felt unspeakable dread. They knew the name caught up in the girl’s fate, the one thrumming through her heart, waiting to be found and kindled into waking fire.

They studied their work, looking for an accident, a misunderstanding, some confusion of the patterns behind the tattered veil. But, no.

The little chit was bound to an Endless. No games would work here. Yet the damage had already been done. Should the Dream Lord ever return, he would see what clever fingers tore apart his soulmate’s mortality and come for terrible vengeance. The unseelie was no mortal. The rules that protected humanity offered them no shelter.

Perhaps the Dream King would not return. Maybe he would stay lost for the long, long years of this broken mortal’s life. And it would be such a long life now. She would carry on past missed appointments with Death, a breath away from everything she should have had. It was the unseelie’s doing, that long life.

They pinned the thrashing child flat again and stared into her reddened eyes, the eyes they hated to very, very much, and had an idea.

But broken mortality wasn’t really immortality. Anything might kill a little girl, or a flood of anythings.

The Dream King couldn’t be angry if they filled her heart with him. And if all those lose dreams and nightmares flocked to the tiny, tasty morsel glittering with a bit of their lord’s power? Well. Hardly the unseelie’s fault.

They’d only given her a gift.

Pinning the girl with their knee, they freed their hands to conjure a vial no bigger than the girl’s thumb. They barely had a thimbleful of Dream’s sand, collected over decades from sleeping minds and a couple cursed souls, and now they must use it all. They dipped one long claw inside.

Their arm sank back into the girl’s chest, summoning fresh screams and tears as they groped for her heart. Her wyrd wrapped tight around the pulsing core, and the unseelie worked carefully as they made the first cut, letting the sand fall into the open wound.

The screams – impossibly – rose in pitch.

The Dream Lord’s name took shape in a more literal sense, visible now to anyone with the vision to see it. Fae, gods, and Endless. Gifted humans, dreams, and nightmares. Anyone with a grudge to settle could take it out on her tender flesh. Anything hungry for a taste of the Dreaming need only take a bite.

Morpheus’s name shone with power, and the sand had already started through her blood, binding her even closer to the missing king and his realm. Every inch of her.

Satisfied with their work, they pulled their hand free – away from her heart, through her wyrd, through the tattered curtain of mortality – and licked their talon clean of blood.

Sweet. A shame their first taste must be their last.

Glowering down at the girl lying in a sweaty mess of wet hair and winter clothes, the unseelie felt the tug of their deal on their own heart. They must complete the bargain or be extinguished.

Well.

They’d give the girl a warning, the closest they’d come to kindness. As she panted, drenched from tears and sweat, they leaned low and rasped a truth into their damned eyes.

“Your soulmate a monster even the gods fear.” They felt a shiver wrack the little girl’s prone body under their weight and sneered. They still owed a name. “He is called Morpheus.”

Deal finished, vengeance for the true seeing eyes acquired, they rose, pulling the girl by her hair to the tent’s entrance and hurling her onto the icy pavement. No farewells. No explanations. No offers.

Done and done.

The tent left its place under Brown Bridge, looking for a new market in a new city. Preferably one without unwary soulmates to missing Endless wandering into traps and making life difficult. They would not meet again. The unseelie would make sure of it. The world was a big enough place to get lost in, and an unseelie prospered in the shadows.

Back under the bridge, a little girl stumbled to her feet, clutching her aching chest, aware that something terrible had happened to her, but too confused and upset to explain.

She stumbled home with a name and injuries her parents couldn’t see.

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Two Decades Later – 2022

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The Magician reversed. The Devil. The Star.

The cards stared up at her with a story she struggled to read, a simple three-card draw she’d hoped would explain what pulled her back to England time and time again, regardless of expense and frustration.

She’d meditated before she drew each card, focused on her question, on her present, on her own energy.

But it didn’t feel like her story.

“Aisling?” the voice on the phone crackled. “Still there?”

Still glowering at the tarot on the bedspread, she reached for her cell, pulling it closer to physically remind herself of the conversation. The puzzle frayed her attention, and she found herself torn between friend and fortune.

“Yeah. Yeah, sorry.”

Tea. She needed tea. Leaving the mess on her bed and bringing the phone to the rental’s kitchenette, she set the electric kettle to boil while explaining her distraction. “The cards aren’t behaving. I’ve pulled nothing but major arcana all week, the same three cards. It’s like someone else’s reading.”

On the other end of the line, her friend hummed. Aisling’s distraction was already a red flag, she knew, and now there’d be questions.

Much as Constantine liked to pretend she had no fucks to give about heaven, hell, or those trapped in between, she had a few attachments she hadn’t fully accepted as such. Good news, really, because once Johanna realized she cared about someone she hacked them out of her life with vicious efficiency.

“Sounds like weird shit. Where are you? What are you doing? You said you were in England but you haven’t come to bother me.”

Aisling peered out the leaded window as she popped a tea bag into the pot. Across the blooming garden, the towering gothic edifice of Fawney Rig loomed.

“Oh, you know.” She turned away from the phone, like she couldn’t even meet the screen’s black stare as bubbles of guilt fizzed in her stomach. Looking for a teacup gave her an excuse. Like she needed one. “Somewhere you’d disapprove of.”

Johanna’s growling sigh made her smirk even as the guilt rose to a boil in her gut.

“I’ve told you: you’ll always find trouble when you looking for it. So, stop looking.”

Despite knowing about – and using – her true sight, Constantine still clung to the belief Aisling could make her life better by ignoring her intuition. But she’d never found that to be true. Normal people could choose to ignore omens and portents, could pack up house and start a new job in a new town to avoid their problems. Aisling’s problems followed her wherever she went. Tenaciously. Her intuition just helped her keep a couple steps ahead. Sometimes, it even let her help other people. Like Constantine, in fact.

Anyway, unless she cut her eyes out of her head, she’d never be rid of that first curse.

“Yes, well, that’s always been my problem, hasn’t it?” She tried not to sound bitter, but she could taste the acrid bitterness as the words left her tongue. Lot of feelings there. Not Johanna’s fault. Even if she didn’t get it. She heaved her own sigh and decided to steer the conversation to new ground. “Anyway. What are you up to?”

Johanna shrugged. Aisling didn’t have to see her to know. “This and that.”

Thready plumes of steam escaped the kettle. She grinned, waiting for the beep that would announce tea time. “Trouble and turmoil?”

“The usual.” Johanna paused and the line went quiet. Aisling could vaguely hear the city traffic echoing through the speaker, and she wondered if Constantine was on her way to a job. “Whatever you’re getting yourself into, be careful. Stop by and see me in London when you have time.”

The kettle beeped, and the hot water burbled into the little teapot like it was rushing to meet an old friend. As the faint aroma of the simple black blend hit her, she looked at the white roses nodding around a nearby trellis, considering what Johanna might need.

“Out of salt?”

“Nah. Just want proof of life.”

She shook her head. Four minutes until the tea steeped.

“Hilarious.”

“Practical.” Spoken like a true magic user. Less fairy tales and pixie dust, more blood and obituaries. “I mean it, Ash.”

She couldn’t ignore the note of warning in Constantine’s voice, and she didn’t fight the urge to reassure her.

“I’ll try.”

“To be careful or come see me?” Johanna asked like she didn’t expect either.

The tea was ready. Steeped or not. Too hot or too cold. She needed it.

And she needed to figure out the damn reading.

“Both. I’ll talk to you later, Johanna. Bye.”

Constantine snorted. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

The call ended, and Aisling poured a cup of very hot, half-steeped tea. She took a sip as she arranged herself in front of the cards and decided she’d had worse, even if it was weaker than her New Year’s resolution to give up caffeine every January.

She should’ve used one of her herbal blends, a magical tisane to open her third eye or ease the gap between her dreaming and waking mind, but she was a little worried her hosts would come knocking and pick up on the smell. Logic and reasoning would have to do.

The reading still didn’t make sense as a whole, no matter how much she stared at it, so she broke it into parts.

She could place herself in it – sort of. A tangential connection or two linked current events to the first card.

The Magician.

It clearly represented Roderick Burgess. Inept, weak-willed, and insecure.

He’d been quite a character back in his day, styling himself a magus when he was nothing more than puffed up cult leader.

In the century since his golden days, the Burgess family sank out of the limelight. While hardly destitute, they found themselves facing the same class struggles as other rich, landed Brits with dwindling incomes and rising costs. Their grand home, once their greatest pride, became the millstone around their necks.

Aisling had no idea what economies they’d taken, but they’d put the outbuildings to use. Or one of them, anyway. A few renovations, and the gatehouse became a small apartment up for rent. The cramped quarters made for an awkward little utility flat, but it served buckets of charm and hinted at a haunted history. Crack for tourists. The house wasn’t open for tours, and the owners requested no photos of the main residence be taken, but it was enough to draw guests for a night or two. Everyone liked a good ghost story, and Fawney Rig was rotten with them.

Aisling rented the space for a week, yanked by the nose after she found the innocuous listing online. Her intuition screamed to go – hunt – search – find… something.

It should be in the middle, though, if it represented her present. The Magician sat to the left, the past position, and her intuition insisted it referenced the magus, not his mansion.

The Devil took the present.

It wasn’t a friendly card. Its range of meanings all tied back to physical or psychological bondage. She’d heard the stories of Burgess keeping the Devil in his basement, but Constantine’s work proved Lucifer was safe and well in the bowels of Hell. Maybe he trapped something else in the cellar. Weak magic users like the magus often pulled on secondary powers, unable to draw from their own. It wouldn’t explain the family’s decline, though, if they still had the beastie in chains.

Her cards were rarely literal, but maybe her intuition simply wanted her to get into the basement.

A nice, obvious suggestion. She’d already tried.

She carried what she considered three curses. First, her true sight. That was an accident of nature or fate. The other two she blamed on the fae she met on a winter night under the bridge. She only understood what it had done when she was older – destroying the veil between consciousness and intuition, then carving a monster’s name on her heart with a fragment of the monster’s own power.

The last two curses made her a powerful oneiromancer. She walked between dreams and reality when she slept, like a mix of lucid dreaming and astral projection. When she entered Fawney Rig her first night as a guest in her sleeping shape, she found all doors open to her. All doors except the one to the basement.

Intent blocked it like a magical ward, dying wishes to keep out magic and dreams.

She’d never seen anything quite like it, and wondered how many members of Burgess’s cult died with visions in their minds’ eyes before they passed.

Roderick’s ghost scowled at her as she examined the door, and she’d flipped him the bird on principle. He couldn’t hurt her. Too weak. An abandoned soul who’d done something to piss off death, he faced an eternity of powerlessness, watching with no control. They hated each other at first sight.

She had three more days in Fawney Rig’s gatehouse. If things went well, she’d reach the basement that evening with a different approach.

Which led her to the third card. The Star, a predictor of opportunity and help unlooked for, a symbol of faith, hope, and dreams.

They were all too close to being meaningful without actually slotting into any order that made sense. Together, the three cards suggested a path tangential to hers, one she crossed or play a part in.

But it wasn’t her fortune.

Which begged the question: whose was it?

She chugged the rest of her tea – a little cooler and still weak as fuck – before sweeping up the cards and tapping the set back into their painted leather holster. As she fasted the clasp, the pattern caught her eye. The pattern wasn’t unusual for a magical tool – a star set in a geometric pattern for inspiration and protection.

Her thumb brushed over the four points of the white mark. Did it represent her? If so, what aspect guided her role, and whose future would she influence?

Her left hand rose to her chest, rubbing slow circles as she considered. The ache was her most faithful companion. It grounded her when she lost focus, anchored her to her physical body and dreaming self with every burst of throbbing pain. People waxed poetic about heartache, but she knew it in all its forms, and there was nothing romantic about any of them. She hadn’t met her soulmate. Probably never would. But the bastard made her hurt regardless.

Tea finished and cards packed, she checked her phone for trains leaving the local station in the wee hours. Once she finished whatever she’d come here to do, she imagined she’d need a quick exit, stage left.

Possibly pursued by bear.

Hours passed, shadows circled the room, and she watched the day melt behind Fawney Rig’s gables.

Her suitcase – carpetbag, really – sat by the door, ready to escape the consequences of her actions. An ocean should be enough distance. The paper trail didn’t worry her. She paid in cash for a reason. But whatever was in that basement… hopefully their fortunes only tangled briefly.

Full again, the teapot waited for her to pour a cup and begin her spell.

Since her sleeping self couldn’t breach the door, she’d need to walk through in her corporeal body. All fleshy and vulnerable to things like the security guards who came and went twice a day through the servants’ entrance her window overlooked. They had guns, and she didn’t want to find out if they were the type eager to use them.

If she had to be awake, they had to sleep.

Fortunately, one of her curses could help with that. It would cost her, but Fawney Rig had good security, and she had few options left. Besides, there should only be five people in the house. She’d survived five days without sleep before. She’d be fine.

So she filled her cup and made her circle. Witch’s salt whispered between her fingers as she drew the shape, leaving black smudges on her skin. She didn’t bother wiping it off. The muted scent of burnt herbs filtered through her senses as she lifted the cup to drink. Skullcap, wormwood, and rosemary washed her mouth and throat clear of waking worries, and as the magic warmed her belly, seeping into her blood, the sand sleeping there woke.

Johanna’s sorcery followed strict rules. Words and symbols summoned and channeled the power. Without them, things went sideways, or they didn’t go anywhere at all. But Aisling was no sorcerer. More of a witch. And while she needed tools and potions to do her best work, she preferred the quiet over chants to guide her.

In silence, she gathered the depthless sensation of REM, honed it with fatigue and a desperate need for rest. Heavy lids. Closing eyes. The sweetly inescapable call of a good night’s rest after an endless day’s work. She held the urge. Fed it. Let it steal her own sleep. When swelled, stretching like a restless child trying to doze, she threw it all in an invisible wave towards the house. Her hands pushed out, physically mimicking the force, and held the pose until the wave crested, crashed, and washed into foam, drenching Fawney Rig with her intent.

She felt the waking minds within sink under the spell’s influence, and she spared herself a minute to release the focus, come back to her thoughts and plans and body. The ring of black salt remained undisturbed. Nothing fought back, then. That was good. It meant she had less to worry about while she broke a few laws.

The empty cup joined the teapot on the counter, unwashed and abandoned. Until she knew if her pretense of a polite guest would see the light of morning, there was no point, and her spell wouldn’t keep them asleep forever.

Blank-faced, the man in the moon watched her stride through the garden, hunting for the little pot near the gazebo where Paul kept the spare key.

They met her first day in the gatehouse when she paused to admire his flowers. He was a sweet old man, and he was happy to share about his beloved garden. His first love at Fawney Rig, though not his greatest. When he explained he used to be staff, she’d given him her very best smile and laughed.

“I guess that makes you Cinderella.”

Clearly a romantic, that one. He smiled at his feet, saying it “Wasn’t quite like that,” but obviously pleased with the vision she’d spun him. When he found out she was staying by herself, he’d shown her the key.

“For emergencies. The gatehouse isn’t the most secure, and we’re a ways from town. You know, just in case.”

If both hosts were so sweet, she might not have heeded the mysterious call to the old house. Her world had more dark than light, and she’d hate to leave tar and ash in Paul’s beautiful flowerbeds.

But then she met Paul’s husband.

She couldn’t say exactly why she didn’t like Alex, but he had a brittle edge like a rusty knife lifted against the world. He wore the fragility of the perpetual victim, eternally on-guard, someone who’d been hurt but could never move on from their pain, because if they did, they’d have to admit they were also an abuser.

He had ugly secrets locked away in his grand house, festering away like septic boils, and every inch of her being insisted it was her task to lance them.

She took the key with regret, but she still took it, and the heavy front door opened like she’d been invited in.

Everything she’d picked up in her days outside the manor proper landed twice as heavily as she stepped inside, shoes tapping over the polished floor. Her dreaming form had limitations. It walked a path between awareness and the unconscious, and it had trouble picking up on much beyond what she went to sleep intending to do or find. Now, she breathed in every detail.

The old manor creaked with the burden of death obstructed. It choked on lives unnaturally extended, ghosts kept alive by magic and petulance until the world left the estate behind. It had become more museum than home, and though Alex and Paul had cleared out a few places to call their own and wired in modern conveniences as they were invented, the place seemed to hold its breath. It laid largely undisturbed with the glassy eyes of balding taxidermy guarding the sins of a dead man.

Because Roderick Burgess was a sinner for sure. Wild tales aside, the angry ghost silently raging at her from on high wasn’t that of a benevolent soul. Sleeping or waking, her eyes looked true, and a ghost was a ghost in any world it walked.

She spared him a middle finger again. Just for funsies.

Prick.

He wasn’t worth any further attention.

The door, however, was.

She pulled back the curtain shielding it from the hall and examined the lock. It had many keys. She’d seen the heavy, jangling rings of them the guards carried, and Alex Burgess must be paranoid enough to keep one on his person. But in her sleeping quest, she’d discovered lots of things about this door. No one needed to tell her where the spare key hung on a hook under the aged buffet in the hall. It practically glowed to her dreaming eyes, and her waking fingers found it quick enough.

It slotted in the hole and released the bolt with a click. Easy as could be. Just like the key from the garden.

All these little treasures stashed away in case of emergency were about to cause one.

The portal to the basement yawned wide. At long last. The hollow silence warned her away, but the place under her ribs twisted. Determined.

So, through the door. Down the stairs. Trotting, quick and quiet on her nameless mission into the bowels of the Demon King’s estate. She could imagine Johanna’s voice cutting across space and time, picking apart her plan, shitting on her magnetic attraction to the cursed and unfortunate corners of the world. No back-up. A vague idea of an exit strategy. No clue what she was walking into.

What could possibly go wrong?

The goosebumps on her arms forecasted doom, but she couldn’t ignore the sparking current running through her chest. The farther she went, the clearer the sensation became.

Despite the electric lights, shadows clung like dust, growing deeper and wider as she neared the bottom of the stairs. The basement sucked the life out of the LED bulbs, refusing to share its secrets with an outsider. Hush, it whispered, hide it, bury it, keep it from the daylight.

Each step charged the static creeping over her skin. Her heart threatened to fall out of rhythm with the little shocks as it swelled around her like the sea. Something she could taste. Something she could drown in.

She didn’t have to look into the room to know the guards slept. She felt it. Their resting minds hummed in the space like a pair of bees. If that wasn’t proof enough, a snore echoed between the bare walls, carrying up the stairwell.

At the end of her descent, she found an iron gate. Whatever the Burgesses had ferreted away, they feared it. But she’d have time to find her own fears in just a moment. First things first. An important life lesson, even in darkest dungeons.

Especially in darkest dungeons, actually.

She didn’t look through the bars, keeping her focus on the lock. Bolted from the inside, a simple keyhole begged for a pick or a spell to let her pass. It wasn’t her area of expertise, but the mechanism had soaked up decade up on decade of magic, and it was nearing the tipping point between magical artefact and mundane tool. Magic stained everything in the basement, to the point she wondered if she might see her own footprints lingering, like marks on a sandy beach down the stairs.

Johanna had taught her a few tricks to handle locks over the years, and this one begged for something more than traditional keys. She slipped her fingers between the bars, resting her finger over the keyhole as she listened for what it wanted. It asked for something. It was tired of standing guard for so, so long, and it just wanted a reason, an excuse even, to let go. It wanted a fucking rest.

Poor old thing.

She found a word, matched it to her intent, and whispered.

“Deditionem.”

The lock turned with a creaking groan, and the gate sighed open on rusty hinges.

Sparks rippled like fire through her chest, and she shoved her hands deep in her pockets to stop herself from rubbing the ache.

She was not alone.

Her eyes swung along with the gate, drawn to the bright center of the dungeon, where a prisoner sat in a glass cage, like a hollow moon in the void of the underground.

Human eyes might’ve mistaken the hostage for a man, and damn if he didn’t look like one. A beautiful one. But she saw something more.

Even in the smothering dark of the cellar, his shadows glowed sharp. Threats whispered through the angles of his stiff posture, and the stars in his eyes glittered red.

He sat like a king, straight and cold, holding himself apart from the petty creatures who’d snared him with dignity and poise of inexhaustible grace.

He’d already noticed her. Unblinking eyes fixed on her face, unimpressed, but attentive. Not friendly in the least.

She held the staring contest for a full minute before she snapped, lashes fluttering as she floundered for something to say, not quite ready to look away.

“Hi.”

Inspirational. Truly.

Still, it broke the standoff – or at least the quiet – and she moved further into the room, looking over the moat, the glass cage, the arcane circle painted on the floor. Her eyes stayed on the restraints. The… whatever he was sat very naked in that globe, and she’d gladly bet it wasn’t voluntarily. That gave her plenty of reasons to look away, and a beautiful excuse to avoid as much eye contact as possible.

She made a full circuit, and though he didn’t turn more than his head to watch her, his attention prickled. Her own footsteps haunted her, filling the room like a shadow army. If he wasn’t going to participate in a conversation, well, she wasn’t above talking to herself.

“You are angry.” Somehow, he sat even straighter, and she tripped over herself to explain. “I don’t blame you. If I was in your position, I’d be pissed, too. But I have to be… careful.”

She squinted at the golden circle, baffled by the sigils. She needed a better look.

Backing away from the edge of the moat, she got a running start and jumped over the long pit. It was a close thing, and her arms pinwheeled on the brink of a fall. Gravity took pity on her, and after tipping back and forth on the balls of her feet, she recovered her balance.

There wasn’t much space on the island, and she found herself very near the glass – and very near the entity within. He regarded her with the same, impassive judgement, but one eyebrow had drifted higher than the other. He didn’t need to speak to tell her she was an idiot. There was a bridge, after all, between his island and the rest of the basement floor.

She shrugged. “Never trust the obvious.”

Never trust clear routes when their owners had reason to boobytrap them. Never trust pretty men kept under glass.

Looking away before she got lost in those starry eyes, she crouched at the edge of the symbols trapping him. She recognized most of them, but the configuration eluded her. A summoning circle, but for what? All she could see was what it couldn’t do.

“You’re no demon,” she muttered to the floor. “You’d have offered a deal by now. Or a few choice threats. Hellfire, and brimstone, and all.”

The quiet remained undisturbed as her voice faded, and the pressure mounted in her chest. Trying to soothe the sting, she let herself rub over the invisible damage, aware she was revealing a weakness, but even more aware of the gross imbalance of power. She could strip down and show him every scar, tell him every mistake she’d ever made, and it wouldn’t make him any more powerful. It wouldn’t help him out of his cage, either.

Too quiet. She needed to think. As her fingers skated in a figure-eight above her heart, she continued her debate aloud.

“You’re beyond any dream or nightmare I’ve ever met. I doubt you’re a djinn or a faerie.”

She looked up with a question blooming on her lips and froze in place.

He’d moved.

As she studied the magic keeping him prisoner, he’d shifted closer, balancing with one hand against the glass as he scrutinized her. His burning gaze dared her to look away again, demanding something, and for an instant, she forgot how to breathe.

He had hair like the night wind. She imagined if she broke the glass, that wind would become more than a metaphor, sweeping the world clean of the house, the people inside, and any soul foolish enough to earn his wrath through the long years of his imprisonment.

She didn’t need to know the entity’s name to feel his presence, the chained power ringing through his cage. Whoever – whatever – the Burgesses trapped, they had good reason to fear setting it free. When the defenses fell, that power would tear through the immediate vicinity like a river breaching a dam. Intelligent eyes tracked her, analyzed her, judged her. But a force of nature sat in that bubble. Not a man.

Pieces of an old story sat around her, and she took her time, anxious as they grew into a simple tale. Roderick Burgess snared a power beyond himself, confident in the way men looked at mountains and saw gold, the way clever folk tamed lightning and harnessed the wind. But he’d miscalculated. This creature moved in spheres beyond mortal reasoning. He trapped his family with a curse, a burden they could never release, that would never bow to bargaining. Something that never should’ve been locked away in the first place.

And now she’d gotten tangled up in its wyrd, according to her cards.

She must be very careful if she wanted to survive this. Intact. Wrath had a tendency to spill over on bystanders, and she stood very close to the boiling cauldron.

Holding that demanding gaze, she said, “I’m going to help you. Whatever you are, I don’t think you belong in there.”

Doubt soured his expression, but some of the red faded from the stars. He heard her. He was listening. And he was jaded as all hell. She wasn’t the first to make promises.

“I am going to get you free. But –”

He sat up again, hand still on the glass, to peer down his nose in naked distain.

She scoffed. Gods. All men-shaped things really were the same. Proud, impatient bastard. “Calm down and let me finish.”

Whatever the summoning circle’s origin, it stank of fragile, dead magic. It remained as a rule, but nothing living fueled its power, and she could break it easily.

As she drew her athame from the sheath at the small of her back, she continued, “I don’t think I want to be here when you get out. Like I said, you’re angry, and I have people depending on me.”

She held the blade up so he could see it, and she wondered if he could feel her comparatively feeble magic as she lifted it across the magical boundary. Simply cutting the air over the marks weakened them, and she saw him stiffen, nostrils flaring before she bent to finish the job.

Her athame was beautiful – a steel dagger crafted in a friend’s forge. Silver filigree twisted down the blade like a gale between seven-pointed stars, and lacey wormwood leaves glittered in the same material over the handle. The basement air left the shapes cool against her sweaty palm.

The tip touched stone just within the ring, and she pulled the sharp edge through the concentric rings of gold paint in a clean stroke, encountering no resistance as she severed the lingering power. The fine cut was invisible to the naked eye, but the magic crumbled like a dead leaf under a boot.

Smirking to herself, she tucked away the dagger and gleefully thought of how upset old Burgess would be. No wonder the family needed two damn guards to protect such shitty casting.

Her eye wandered back to the entity, and she slowly rose to her feet, rubbing her chest as he stared with wide eyes.

He looked like she’d slapped him. Surprise mingled with awe or horror. He wasn’t easy to read. But it wasn’t gratitude glowing in his expression.

Something had happened.

Did she do something?

Her heart was on fire.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

He didn’t answer, though his lips parted. Either he wanted to speak and had forgotten how, or he feared to share his thoughts, though they begged to escape into the open air.

It wasn’t her business. She took two steps back, sweeping the glass sphere for signs of a latch or door. It looked like it had been built around him. Hell. It probably was. Like Wendy in the little house the Lost Boys made her, but so much worse.

The cosmos in his gaze stirred, swirling like a whirlpool as the fire under her skin continues burning. Dangerous. This was dangerous. He was dangerous.

It was time to leave.

She’d done her part.

“If you need more help, you have to tell me.”

She had to check. The sphere and the circle clearly worked in tandem to keep the prisoner sealed away from the world, and breaking the sigils affected him somehow. Would he be able to break the second barrier on his own, or would she have to put herself at further risk?

He glanced at the sleeping guards. Looked her over again, eyes growing harder as he buried that raw shock she’d unwittingly triggered. The barest shift of his head relieved her of further responsibility.

“Fine. Good luck.”

One of the guards jolted in his sleep.

Oh, most definitely time to leave.

She risked the bridge on her way out. Faster that way. She didn’t look back as she pushed through the iron gate, didn’t hesitate on the steps, or in the hall, even when gunshots rang out below.

A burst of panic that had been hiding beneath the curiosity and pain sprang free, fraying her nerves with its teeth as she fled the manor. She took her waiting bag from the door to the gatehouse and sprinted down the dark road towards town.

The sun would find her miles away, on her way to someplace further still.

The tarot reading solved. The captive entity freed. Roderick Burgess forced to watch it all from limbo.

Now came the reckoning.

She had every reason to leave and not a single one to stay.

She could move on. She was very literally doing just that.

So why, as her feet pounded down the long gravel drive, did the scars in her chest burn to turn back?

Next Chapter

#morpheus x reader #morpheus x oc #sandman x reader #dream of the endless x reader