#i like how my name is a complete mystery length

[rachel-614]

Okay, let me tell you a story:

Once upon a time, there was a prose translation of the Pearl Poet’s Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. It was wonderfully charming and lyrical and perfect for use in a high school, and so a clever English teacher (as one did in the 70s) made a scan of the book for her students, saved it as a pdf, and printed copies off for her students every year. In true teacher tradition, she shared the file with her colleagues, and so for many years the students of the high school all studied Sir Gawain and the Green Knight from the same (very badly scanned) version of this wonderful prose translation.

In time, a new teacher became head of the English Department, and while he agreed that the prose translation was very wonderful he felt that the quality of the scan was much less so. Also in true teacher tradition, he then spent hours typing up the scan into a word processor, with a few typos here and there and a few places where he was genuinely just guessing wildly at what the scan actually said. This completed word document was much cleaner and easier for the students to read, and so of course he shared it with his colleagues, including his very new wide-eyed faculty member who was teaching British Literature for the first time (this was me).

As teachers sometimes do, he moved on for greener (ie, better paying) pastures, leaving behind the word document, but not the original pdf scan. This of course meant that as I was attempting to verify whether a weird word was a typo or a genuine artifact of the original translation, I had no other version to compare it to. Being a good card-holding gen zillenial I of course turned to google, making good use of the super secret plagiarism-checking teacher technique “Quotation Marks”, with an astonishing result:

By which I mean literally one result.

For my purposes, this was precisely what I needed: a very clean and crisp scan that allowed me to make corrections to my typed edition: a happily ever after, amen.

But beware, for deep within my soul a terrible Monster was stirring. Bane of procrastinators everywhere, my Curiosity had found a likely looking rabbit hole. See, this wonderfully clear and crisp scan was lacking in two rather important pieces of identifying information: the title of the book from which the scan was taken, and the name of the translator. The only identifying features were the section title “Precursors” (and no, that is not the title of the book, believe me I looked) and this little leaf-like motif by the page numbers:

(Remember the leaf. This will be important later.)

We shall not dwell at length on the hours of internet research that ensued—how the sun slowly dipped behind the horizon, grading abandoned in shadows half-lit by the the blue glow of the computer screen—how google search after search racked up, until an email warning of “unusual activity on your account” flashed into momentary existence before being consigned immediately and with some prejudice to the digital void—how one third of the way through a “comprehensive but not exhaustive” list of Sir Gawain translators despair crept in until I was left in utter darkness, screen black and eyes staring dully at the wall.

Above all, let us not admit to the fact that such an afternoon occurred not once, not twice, but three times.

Suffice to say, many hours had been spent in fruitless pursuit before a new thought crept in: if this book was so mysterious, so obscure as to defeat the modern search engine, perhaps the answer lay not in the technologies of today, but the wisdom of the past. Fingers trembling, I pulled up the last blast email that had been sent to current and former faculty and staff, and began to compose an email to the timeless and indomitable woman who had taught English to me when I was a student, and who had, after nearly fifty years, retired from teaching just before I returned to my alma mater.

After staring at the email for approximately five or so minutes, I winced, pressed send, and let my plea sail out into the void. I cannot adequately describe for you the instinctive reverence I possess towards this teacher; suffice to say that Ms English was and is a woman of remarkable character, as much a legend as an institution as a woman of flesh and blood whose enduring influence inspired countless students. There is not a student taught by Ms. English who does not have a story to tell about her, and her decline in her last years of teaching and eventual retirement in the face of COVID was the end of an era. She still remembers me, and every couple months one of her contemporaries and dear friends who still works as a guidance counsellor stops me in the hall to tell me that Ms. English says hello and that she is thrilled that I am teaching here—thrilled that I am teaching honors students—thrilled that I am now teaching the AP students. “Tell her I said hello back,” I always say, and smile.

Ms. English is a legend, and one does not expect legends to respond to you immediately. Who knows when a woman of her generation would next think to check her email? Who knows if she would remember?

The day after I sent the email I got this response:

My friends, I was shaken. I was stunned. Imagine asking God a question and he turns to you and says, “Hold on one moment, let me check with my predecessor.”

The idea that even Ms. English had inherited this mysterious translation had never even occurred to me as a possibility, not when Ms. English had been a faculty member since the early days of the school. How wonderful, I thought to myself. What a great thing, that this translation is so obscure and mysterious that it defeats even Ms. English.

A few days later, Ms. English emailed me again:

(I had, in fact searched through both the English office and the Annex—a dark, weirdly shaped concrete storage area containing a great deal of dust and many aging copies of various books—a few days prior. I had no luck, sadly.)

At last, though, I had a title and a description! I returned to my internet search, only to find to my dismay that there was no book that exactly matched the title. I found THE BRITISH TRADITION: POETRY, PROSE, AND DRAMA (which was not black and the table of contents I found did not include Sir Gawain) and THE ENGLISH TRADITION, a super early edition of the Prentice Hall textbooks we use today, which did have a black cover but there were absolutely zero images I could find of the table of contents or the interior and so I had no way of determining if it was the correct book short of laying out an unfortunate amount of cold hard cash for a potential dead end.

So I sighed, and relinquished my dreams of solving the mystery. Perhaps someday 30 years from now, I thought, I’ll be wandering through one of those mysterious bookshops filled with out of print books and I’ll pick up a book and there will be the translation, found out last!

So I sighed, and told the whole story to my colleagues for a laugh. I sent screenshots of Ms. English’s emails to my siblings who were also taught by her. I told the story to my Dad over dinner as my Great Adventure of the Week.

…my friends. I come by my rabbit-hole curiosity honestly, but my Dad is of a different generation of computer literacy and knows a few Deep Secrets that I have never learned. He asked me the title that Ms. English gave me, pulled up some mysterious catalogue site, and within ten minutes found a title card. There are apparently two copies available in libraries worldwide, one in Philadelphia and the other in British Columbia. I said, “sure, Dad,” and went upstairs. He texted me a link. Rolling my eyes, I opened it and looked at the description.

Huh, I thought. Four volumes, just like Ms. English said. I wonder…

Armed with a slightly different title and a publisher, I looked up “The English Tradition: Fiction macmillan” and the first entry is an eBay sale that had picture of the interior and LO AND BEHOLD:

THE LEAF. LOOK AT THE LEAF.

My dad found it! He found the book!!

Except for one teensy tiny problem which is that the cover of the book is uh a very bright green and not at all black like Ms. English said. Alas, it was a case of mistaken identity, because The English Tradition: Poetry does have a black cover, although it is the fiction volume which contains Sir Gawain and the Green Knight.

And so having found the book at last, I have decided to purchase it for the sum of $8, that ever after the origins of this translation may once more be known.

In this year of 2022 this adventure took place, as this post bears witness, the end, amen.

(Edit: See here for part 2!)

#sir gawain and the green knight #translations #internet research #english literature #teaching things #dads are the best #long post #story telling #I STILL don’t know the name of the translator but I WILL find out #obscure books

[addledmongoose]

Best of 2023 Good Omens Fanfiction

This is my list of the 20 best Good Omens fanfiction works I've read in 2023.

A few notes:

These are all complete works; there are no WIPs in the list.

Please feel free to let me know if a link stops working

It's not an ordered list. That would be far too difficult.

You'll probably recognize some of the most popular ones. They're popular for a reason, after all, but I hope you find something you haven't yet read.

The majority are full-length works, but there are definitely some shorter pieces.

These are certainly not the only good works I've read, but they are the ones I'm most likely to read more than once

Click the Keep Reading to see the list

If you're the author of one of these, first off, thank you! But second, if you want me to add your tumblr name to your story, let me know, and I'll edit.

This first section, all the stories are canon-compliant or canon-adjacent. In other words, it's at least somewhat set in the Good Omens universe.

a lighthouse (burning) (108K; Rated M)

This one is canon-adjacent and set in the 19th century. Aziraphale goes to a lighthouse to figure out where all the lighthouse keepers disappeared to, and Crowley follows along. This one is a bit of a spooky mystery along with the romance, and the writing style is simply beautiful. You really get a sense of being trapped in this lighthouse in the middle of nowhere.

***

The Grindr Logo Doesn't Even Have a 'G' In It (79K; Rated E)

It's honestly hard to remember that this one isn't human AU, but they're still just as angelic/demonic as ever. Aziraphale joins Grindr and starts texting (and then sexting) with a charming young man. It's no secret to the reader who this new hookup is. This story is genuinely funny at times. I like the funny ones.

***

The Whole Damned World Seemed Upside Down (103K; Rated M)

This is one of the best reverse omens stories I've read that isn't technically a reverse omens. Crowley wishes things were different after leaving the bookshop, and the universe gives him his wish. He finds himself in a world where Aziraphale hates him, Death has trouble taking lives, and basically everything you knew about the world of Good Omens is upside down. It's very funny. It uses inline footnotes (which is good, because it has a LOT of footnotes), and Death is hilarious.

***

it's a new craze (5K; Rated T)

Another one that seems like it should be human AU but isn't. Crowley and Aziraphale start up a podcast after the Notpocalypse and gain a loyal fanbase who can't figure out if they're a couple or not. They often forget who their audience is and often reference events in their shared history that make no sense to the humans listening.

***

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a demon in possession of a mobile phone, must be in want of attention (6K; Rated G)

And yes, that is the entire title. Another funny short story where a couple of podcast hosts receive a call from a certain angel whose demon trapped himself in his phone and won't leave.

***

In Mixed Company, or the Corporate Retreat of Heaven and Hell (52K; Rated M)

I've read this one at least three times, and it's probably my favorite of all. Every 300 years, Heaven and Hell share a company retreat on Earth during which angels and demons surrender their celestial powers and hold retreats. It has a great new angel friend of Aziraphale's; Hellish Powerpoint presentations; Gabriel being annoyingly chipper; and Aziraphale and Crowley sneaking around like teenagers trying to find some alone time.

***

How To Woo A Demon (24K; Rated T)

Aziraphale researches demonic courtship rituals and starts implementing them in order to convince Crowley he wants to take their relationship to the next level. Crowley is very confused by Aziraphale's actions. Another cute, funny one.

***

Factory Settings (107K; Rated T)

This one is famous for coming out practically as S2 dropped, making people think whoever wrote it (the author is anonymous) had something to do with the production of the show.

This is the only one I'm going to say anything negative about. There are a lot of spelling errors and typos in it. It needs a hard editing pass. Despite that complaint, I devoured this story as fast as I could scroll. It's that good, and even knowing all the errors are there, I'll probably still re-read it. I'm usually pretty picky about errors like that, so for me to overlook it and even recommend it, means I really liked it.

Crowley gets reinstated as the angel, Raphael, with no memory of his time as Crowley, and Aziraphale struggles to return him to his demonic self. It's heart-breaking and wonderful and I absolutely loved it.

***

One Night In Bangor (And the World's Your Oyster) (17K: Rated E)

Much like In Mixed Company, Heaven and Hell come together for a corporate retreat on Earth. In this one, some totally random demon who's name definitely doesn't rhyme with Bowley created a wager in Hell to see which demon could bed an angel first.

Another funny one. This time, a lot of the humor comes from the demons doing their best to pick up the angels with really bad pickup lines.

***

We Only Said Goodbye with Words, I Died A Hundred Times (9K; Rated E)

If I could learn to write even half as good as this, I'd be ecstatic. The emotions the author packs into this story are mind-blowing.

Crowley receives a cursed amulet that creates an ever-increasing need for the person he wants the most and goes to see Aziraphale.

***

To reveal my heart in ink (29K; Rated E)

Aziraphale starts writing letters to Crowley by mail. The letters they exchange slowly get more and more explicit.

***

Pray For Us, Icarus (66K; Rated G/T)

The author wrote this one as a series, so each one varies in chapter count and rating, but they tell a single, contiguous story.

This was the first long-form GO fanfiction I read, and it was way too close to the ending of S2. I really should've waited a while, because holy cow, is this one heartbreaking.

For three hundred years, Crowley has been reincarnated over and over as a human with no memory of his past. Aziraphale has spent those three hundred years trying to restore him to his true self.

The author, Atalan, is probably one of the best writers on the site. This story is stunning in the quality of its writing, in the pacing of the story, and in the emotions evoked. I normally don't like being sad (like I said, I like the funny ones), but I've saved this story off to make sure I always have it.

***

Pretend For Me (53K; Rated E)

In a panic, Aziraphale tells the archangels that he survived hellfire due to his soul mixing with Crowley's because they're in a romantic and sexual relationship, but now they want them to prove it.

I'm a sucker for fake relationship stories, and there aren't a whole lot of them where the characters are still angel/demon, but this one is. It's another fun one, though a bit more angsty than some of those I listed above.

***

The following are all human AU. Good chance you'll recognize all or most of these.

Married At First Sight (147K; Rated T)

One of the most recently completed stories in the list, this is a fake relationship story where Aziraphale and Crowley join a reality show that marries complete strangers off to each other. Their new marriage starts off on a less than idyllic foot and they decide to fake it for the show. The author is a master of making you want to scream "for fuck's sake, just talk to each other, you walnuts!"

Probably one of my favorite fake relationship stories.

***

Postcards From Paris (12K; Rated G)

The author, ghostrat (@mrghostrat), is a fantastic writer of human AU, and it's worth going through his entire backlist (and read his current WIPs, too).

Crowley moves into his Mayfair flat and starts receiving postcards addressed to the previous tenant from one A.Z.F., who is in Europe hunting for bizarre bibles and rating wine. Sweet and fluffy and the perfect antidote if you've just been on an angst binge.

***

Or Be Nice (151K; Rated E)

I stayed up until 6:30 in the morning reading this one, crashed for three hours, then read until I finished it. Then that night, I started it again.

This is, without hesitation, my all-time favorite human AU. It's funny. I love the author's version of the characters, and I will probably end up reading it again in just a few months. I probably already would have if it wasn't for the length of my Mark For Later and Subscription lists.

Crowley and Aziraphale are neighbors who get into a noise war. They both have their reasons for their actions, though to be honest, Crowley is a bit of an ass at first. Once they really start talking, though, they are absolutely wonderful together.

Even if you've never read a human AU, I recommend at least giving this one a try.

***

What We Make Of It (Shotgun Wedding) (213K; Rated E)

This is the third charlottemadison work on this list. 15% of this list is just this one author. That's how good they are.

Aziraphale works as an English teacher. Crowley is the guardian for his nephew, Adam, and works for a school testing company. Crowley can't risk his job dating his nephew's gorgeous and charming teacher. Unless...

Crowley comes up with a crazy plan. Now he just has to convince Aziraphale to go along with it.

Again, another very popular human AU. One thing I love about this story is how there's a lot less angst between the two characters, and how they both really care for Adam.

***

Slow Show (95K; Rated E)

The very first human AU I read. Didn't even think I'd like that specific genre until I read it. Now, as you can see, it's about half of my reading list.

This is an actor AU. Aziraphale (named Avery here) and Crowley are actors working together on a new show. Avery is an award-winning, straight-laced, well-respected actor; Crowley is a mess who immediately falls head-over-heels for him and somehow has to get through the show without letting his (apparently straight) costar realize that.

***

South Downs (76K; Rated E)

Another actor AU. This time, Aziraphale is an openly-gay actor, well-respected for his period drama work. Crowley is a once-blackballed actor who jumps at the chance to star in a gay Regency romance with Aziraphale in the hopes it can restart his career. The trouble is, Crowley is struggling to play the romantic lead opposite a man.

I love the growing friendship between these two as much as the romance. I love how comfortable and confident Aziraphale is here; and how caring he is toward Crowley's growing awareness of his sexuality.

***

This one doesn't really fit either category, so I'm putting it here.

The Rose and the Serpent (56K; Rated M)

By the same author as Pray For Us, Icarus comes a GO retelling of Beauty and the Beast. Aziraphale is sent off by his older brother, Gabriel, into the forest to be held hostage by a giant snake in a cursed castle. Turns out, neither the snake nor the castle are what he was expecting.

Light-hearted and with very memorable characters, the relationship between Crowley and Aziraphale is simply stunning. I love how Newt and Anathema are used here. The quality of this one is as good as Icarus, and I loved this one so much I could easily have read 300K more words.

***

And bonus: mine!

The Beginning of the End (Again) (79K; Rated M)

The first fanfiction I've ever written and the first book I've written in a decade. I had the first two chapters in mind after finishing S2, and the story grew from there. I actually have a sequel in mind after I finish another, separate fake relationship story.

Crowley spends months drowning his sorrows after Aziraphale accepts the Supreme Archangel position, until a group of demons shows up one day and tells him the Second Coming is nearly upon them, and they want him to stop it. Turns out being a demon isn't much fun if there are no humans left to tempt.

Aziraphale has spent these last months in Heaven looking for ways to stop the Second Coming while mourning the way he and Crowley left things. After discovering that Hell's minions have been tasked by the Metatron to escort the son of God on a tour of Earth in preparation for his Second Coming, he hurries down to see what's going on, fearing the worst.

Instead he discovers Crowley escorting the Messiah around Earth. Is his demon taking the son of God on dates?

#good omens fanfiction

[mochie85]

As part of your 1k celebrations I would like to submit the following prompt for consideration 😁♥️ feel free to bend it to your will.

Your colleague Loki finds himself in your rooms at Stark Tower for (fairly) innocent reasons.

You arrive back unexpectedly. He hides, at first.

✨✨

Fairly Innocent

One Shot Masterlist | Follower Event Masterlist | Complete Masterlist

A/N: I apologize, with my whole heart, that it has taken me this long to finish this request. So long, that I have reached a new milestone since this request was made. But I hope you enjoy it. Pairing: Loki x Female Reader Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: Explicit. Smut, hand job, oral (female receiving), slight DOM vibes, voyeurism, shower scene, mention of 'toys'. Happy ending. Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Your room was dark and cold. The curtains were shut leaving a small sliver of light shining from the cityscape outside. There was a stillness in the air from being untouched the last two weeks. “Now, where did she put you?” Loki hummed while looking around your room. He wandered in, using the access code you had given him. His prying eyes scanned and noted how orderly you left your room. And even after some time away, the room still smelled like you. Like citrus blooms on a winter morning.

Loki lent you some practice daggers a while ago and was keen to get them back. They were dull and lightweight. Perfect for beginner enthusiasts like the Widow, who wanted to add a new skill to her ledger. Whom Loki had promised to train, alongside you, in Asgardian combat.

Loki rummaged through your bookshelves, thinking you might have stashed them along with your books and souvenirs from your travels. He knew you loved to read. Your voracious appetite for mysteries and novels rivaled his own. He noted Robert Frost and Agatha Christie situated alongside the many romance novels.

Peculiar, he thought. He’d never known you to be interested in such fiction. You two had always discussed classic literature or Asgardian poetry. A Cheshire grin appeared on his face as he took a book with brightly colored Post-it notes sticking out of the top pages. He opened the paperback to a dog-eared page that was clearly read and reread extensively.

Lucy moaned as Cade’s fingers dipped inside her wet pussy. Trills of pleasure ran up her spine, making her unable to stand any longer. He gently stroked her as he whispered on her neck, “Don’t fight it, baby. Let go for me.”

Loki shut the book closed with wide eyes and a wider grin on his face. “Well, well, well. Who knew that the Avenger’s little darling liked to read smut?!” He said to himself looking at the volumes of romance books you had. He was quite impressed by your ability to surprise him. He thought he had you figured out. He might have to tease you about this when you return from your mission.

Loki searched your closet next, but he couldn’t find the daggers. He combed through hangers of clothing and shelves of shoe boxes till he stumbled upon several silk bags with rope tie enclosures. One bag had the length and shape of the daggers he was searching for. How sweet of her to care for the daggers and stash them in a silk purse. Loki opened the bag and reached in but was again surprised at what he found.

He pulled out a black, patent leather collar with a gold buckle. Glistening under the bright closet light, was a heart-shaped tag, hanging from the center. The name ‘Darling’ was inscribed in cursive. Stunned, Loki looked inside the sateen bag and pulled out what he mistook for his daggers- a short, riding crop that matched the patent leather of the collar. Hanging from the handle was a gold chain that had a tag etched, ‘Darling’s Master.’

An intrusive fantasy came unbidden in his mind. It was of you on all fours, with the collar adorning your neck and him standing behind you rubbing the tip of the crop against your dripping heat. “What other deliciousness are you hiding, my dear?” he whispered as he stowed the collar and whip and reached for another silk purse. Every bag he opened had a different set of negligees. Each one was more lascivious than the last.

The smile on his lips got darker as his body started responding to the different scenarios playing in his head. Each scene- novel and unique, to the set of lingerie he opened. More than once, he had to stop himself from reaching inside and rubbing the fine lace between his fingers. “Nope! No,” he chided himself. “Focus. I’m here for the daggers.” Loki took one last look and walked away before he could swipe one of your lace panties and put it in his back pocket like some pervert. “Daggers. Daggers…where are you daggers…”

He couldn’t stop smiling at the revelation he found. Memories of his last interaction with you played in his head under a new context. It was as if he was seeing you in a different light. Truth be told, he did always find you attractive. But he never once pursued it thinking it wouldn’t be favored by you, or any of the team. You didn’t get the title “The Avenger’s Little Darling” for nothing. You were beloved by all. And he was the untrustworthy, extra baggage that the team had to deal with so they could have Thor on their side.

He knew he couldn’t have you.

One last place he looked was your bedside table. If it’s not here, she must have taken them with her. Opening the drawer, Loki shouldn’t have been surprised at what he found, but he felt an exhilarating chill crawl throughout his body, nonetheless. A vibrator. A large, blue, silicone toy that was tapered at the end, was resting neatly inside. You naughty little minx.

Loki couldn’t help the state of arousal he was in. He stood up and stared at your toy, his fingers running puzzled against his lips. He imagined you spread on your bed, lost in the throes of your passion. What do you think about when you have your toy tucked inside your wet cunt? Who’s name do you moan when you’re at the edge of your climax about to fall? And how can he conspire to make sure you think of him?

Surprised, Loki looked up as he heard the keypad of your door unlocking. In a senseless rush, he closed your drawer and cloaked himself invisible. He didn’t want anyone to find him snooping around your belongings. He stood still as he blended with the shadows of your room.

He shouldn’t have hid. You did give him the access code to your room. You trusted him enough to be in here. But there was something so intimate about the things he found. He felt exposed and guilty. Loki didn’t want anyone to think of him being nefarious with you.

A small sigh of relief flooded him when he realized it was you, back from your assignment. He opened his mouth to speak and announce his presence, but he couldn’t. So many questions rushed through his mind. He wanted to ask all of them! Yet, he was struck immovable by your presence.

Had you always been so lovely? Had your eyes always been that bright and alluring? Your smile, an invitation for his lips?

Were his discoveries about you finally shedding light as to who you might be, underneath the perfect façade you seem to have cultivated for yourself? Everything he found was, he swore to the gods, erotic and arousing. But it was the fact that you surprised him that made his level of attraction to you grow.

You walked in with a heavy sigh, setting your duffel bag down on your bed and your boots onto the floor. You didn’t bother turning on your lights, as you zipped your body suit down and peeled off your armor. A rather tame set of black lace underwear shaped your body. Your exposed skin turned a rich shade in the darkness of your room.

Loki noted some bruises and scars peppering your body. The fresh welts were colored green and blue indicating they were recent and most likely acquired from your latest mission. You massaged your neck and rolled your shoulders trying to ease the ache settling into your bones.

Loki watched as you made your way, routinely, to your en suite and turned on the lights. A loud rush of water from the shower rumbled through, disturbing the silence that had enveloped you both. It took his entire strength as a god to keep standing where he was and not follow you to watch.

New fantasies came unbidden in his mind of you naked and wet in the shower. I need to leave. I need to depart before I do something that both of us would regret.  He waited till he heard you close your shower door. The water made loud splashes as it hit against different curves of your body.

A few more minutes and Loki found he could move again. With a shaky breath, he exhaled and made his way to your door. He would’ve continued if it weren’t for your small sighs. Soft moans and whimpers traveled to his god-like hearing. She’s touching herself?!

Loki balled his fist to elicit pain. His fingernails dug deep into the pad of his palms, trying to overcome the overwhelming state of arousal he was in.

“…Loki…”

He stopped and nearly fell to his knees. You said his name! The honeyed tones of your moans dripped over him. Coating his entire body in primal need until it reached his cock and hardened.

He couldn’t leave now. He wouldn’t. He turned on his heel and slowly lifted his cloak, risking everything by pushing the door slightly more open.

Loki licked his lips at the sight of you lost in your orgasm. Your head was thrown back as water trickled down your body. The droplets guiding his eyes down…

…down…

…to where your fingers played with your aching cunt. Your hands explored your curves. Every dip. Every hollow. Every scrumptious mound that he wanted to devour himself.

He stood at your en suite door, his arms holding the frame above his head. He didn’t trust himself to come closer to you. Not until you allowed it. Not until you saw how his eyes became ravenous at the sight of you touching yourself to thoughts of him.

“Loki!? What the hell are you doing?” you screamed out, startled. His eyes traveled back up to yours as you finally acknowledged his presence. Your body turned flush from the heat of the water and the embarrassing situation you found yourself in.

Loki freed himself from your door and tried to answer. Nothing came out but a quivering breath and a small growl of desire. His eyes narrowed and he bit his lip. He took a step forward and closed your bathroom door behind him making your heart drop.  He slowly made his way to you. Sluggish feet carrying him across your tiled floors. “Don’t stop on my account, Darling.”

“Why are you here?” you demanded.

“I heard you call out my name. And I am nothing if not a benevolent god who answers your prayers.” It was as if a switch was turned on and Loki couldn’t stop until he had you.

He watched you back into the tile of your shower. You looked like a caged animal put there for his viewing pleasure. “Why are you here?!” you repeated. It’s too late to be demure. He’s seen everything.

“I came looking for the daggers I lent you. I looked everywhere in your room. I couldn't find them.” Loki’s voice was deep but clear. You could hear the dangerous desire in his tone as he reached for the door to your shower. On instinct, you reached for the handle, stopping him from opening it.

The chase became real. He had to have you. The last hour he spent combing through your suggestive belongings had built a naughty little version of you in his head. Like a puzzle. It was the most erotically charged moment he’d ever spent. And now? Now, you were denying him!

“Last chance, Darling. If you want me to leave now, say so,” he said with a smile. “But I promise you this. I won’t stop till I have you.” His breath steamed the glass doors. Your heart pounded inside your chest as you looked into his dark eyes.

You let go of the handle and stepped back. Loki opened the door slowly, anticipation building up and pooling in between your thighs. “Good girl.”

Loki walked into your shower, still clothed. The scalding water penetrated through his white cotton shirt making it translucent under the spray. You could trace the lines of his muscle underneath.  His hair became slick and affixed itself against his face. He towered over you, as he leaned over with one arm against the shower wall.

Fuck!

He lowered his face. His nose brushed against the tip of yours and you could taste his breath against your lips. “What were you thinking about?” he asked looking deep into your eyes. “And remember, I can tell when you’re lying.”

You quivered at his voice. You looked down embarrassed. “No, no. Look at me.” He said grabbing your chin and forcing you to look back at him. He kept his fingers on your face, gently stroking your jaw.

“I was thinking about you,” you admitted. Your voice was so small. You felt so fragile in his hands.

“Go on, sweet thing. What prayer can your god answer for you tonight?” he encouraged. You were mesmerized by his stare. His voice lulled you to a sense of heat and longing.

“I pictured…touching you,” you started. “I fantasized about your body holding mine.” Loki licked his lips and the tip of his tongue brushed against your mouth. It tingled and the sensation moved throughout your body, awakening every cell within it.

“Like this?” he asked, grabbing your hand gently and placing it underneath his soaked shirt. He guided your hand up his torso and held it there. You could feel his heart thumping in his chest as he guided you over his stiff nipple and then down his lean abs.

Loki didn’t take his eyes off you once. He watched how your eyes widened at his boldness. How your lips parted when you finally touched him. How your whole body moved just a fraction closer to him, capturing him in a lust-filled haze of his own.

He continued steering your hand down his body, past the hem of his pants to his aching bulge. He was big. And hard. You couldn’t imagine what he would look like, what he would feel like, once he took it out. He kept your hand on his cock, driving your hand up and down. “Keep your hand on me,” he instructed. The steam from the shower did little to prevent the shiver that ran down your spine. Nor did it hide the wetness that was now dripping from you.

“Can you feel how hard I am for you?” his arms encircled your body, pulling you closer to him. His mouth incased your lips in an uncontrollable kiss. He weaved his deft fingers into your wet hair, pulling your head back to kiss you at a deeper angle.  He inhaled deeply, smelling the clean scent of your soap and shampoo.

He groaned into your mouth when he felt your hand reach inside his pants and squeeze him tightly. Loki’s eyes rolled back as you expertly palmed his stiff cock. You felt the veins pulsing in your fingertips as you pumped his dick mercilessly. He leaned over you, caging you between the wall and his eager body.

“Don’t stop, Darling,” he whimpered in your ear. “Don’t stop.” Loki bucked his hips into your hands. He captured your lips one last time before he moaned your name, releasing the pent-up arousal he’d been holding in. He fell apart in your hands, and you continued till you milked every last drop from him.

Before the water could wash away your efforts, you licked off two of your fingers, tasting his offerings. “There she is,” he said with a devilish grin. He was waiting for the real you to come forth. You seemed so demure and shy at the beginning. Nothing at all like what he found out you were. The one who reads erotic novels over and over again. The one who hides their toy on the bedside table, ready to go. The one who has a patent leather collar with their pet name etched into it.

Loki growled at the memory. He will see you in that collar. He’ll make sure of it. “But for now, I want a taste,” he said to himself. Loki started with your mouth, sampling himself in your kiss. You winced slightly when he reached for your waist. Reacting from a sensitive bruise that you acquired from your mission.

“Do you think your body can handle a couple more bruises from me, Darling?” he asked earnestly. You swallowed thickly and nodded. Loki proceeded to grab your hips and hold you in place, while his mouth eagerly marked your neck. He continued down to the base of your throat as he knelt in front of you. He captured your breasts with his tongue, paying them each attention. Your hands rested on his shoulders, gathering the white cotton in your hands as you fisted it.

When he reached your stomach, he was gentle and sweet. His hands secured your waist, pushing you slightly higher. “Wrap your leg around me,” he directed. You obeyed and placed your left leg on his shoulder.

Drips of water still fell from the shower. Loki licked and slurped each drop that fell onto your thighs. He flattened his tongue and licked a wide stripe on your warm cunt. “Fuck…Loki,” you screamed when he latched onto your nub, flicking it with the tip of his tongue. He looked up at you and watched you as you threw your head back, your ecstasy showing through.

“Did you like that, Darling?”

“Mmyes,” you whined. “God, yes!”

Loki repeated his actions, holding onto your thigh, as he savored your clit. You couldn’t hold yourself up any longer. Your knees were weakening, and you had nothing to hold onto as your hands slipped against the tile of your shower wall. “Loki, please,” you panted.

“I need to be inside you,” he moaned. The sooner he can make you cum in here, the sooner he can properly bed you on top of your sheets. He looked deep into your eyes and you almost didn’t recognize him. Hunger and desperation were hanging on his brows. The sight of him in between your legs, the feel of his lips latching onto your folds, the weight of his fingers thrusting inside you. It was all-encompassing and all too consuming.

“Oh, God! Loki!” you screamed as he inserted another finger. You laced your hand through his drenched hair, pulling every time his tongue flicked your nub. “Please, I need you inside me too. I need…” your breathing came in harsher. The steam almost suffocating you as you come closer and closer to that edge, waiting to fall.

“Don’t fight it, Darling. Let go for me,” Loki quoted your book, making you clench around his fingers. One last thrust into you and you screamed your release. Loki lapped up your swollen pussy with a greedy smile, making you shudder.

Hours later, you and Loki were lying on the floor of your room. Blankets and pillows surround you while your legs and arms tangle with each other, holding each other tightly. You were running your finger up and down his chest as he read aloud a passage from one of your “smutty romance books,” as he called them.  

His voice was magnetic and hypnotizing. Every word he said came to life inside your head. “Hmm, we might have to re-enact this one,” he teased after he finished a scene.

“Yes, sir,” you whispered, hoping he didn’t hear the last word you said. It just came out. You couldn’t stop yourself from saying it. From bending to his will and wanting to please him.

“I was curious about something,” he grinned, biting his lip. “Which I hope you can enlighten me...”

“Yes?”

“When I was looking for the daggers, I came across this.” He conjured up your patent leather collar and held it up against the dim light. He next conjured up the matching riding crop and showed you the tag that was hanging from the handle. “Who was your master?” Loki asked, unsure whether he wanted to know the answer. “Why do you have this and not them?”

“I never had one,” you admitted sheepishly. “I bought that in hopes of using it one day. But we never worked out.”

“I see,” he said with a devious smirk.

“It was so pretty. I couldn’t just get rid of it.”

“Sit up. Hold your hair, while I put this on you.” You obeyed his instructions. A pool of desire is already forming in between your legs as he tightens the collar around your neck. The heart-shaped tag, ‘Darling’ felt heavy and cold as he placed it neatly on the base of your throat.

Loki wiped his thumb over the tag of the whip. Newly etched, in bold letters, was his name instead. “Well, it’s mine now, darling,” he grinned as he tested the switch on his hand. The sharp thwack stung his palm. Your heart started beating quicker.

“On your knees,” he growled.

“Yes, sir.”

🏷️ @emarich7 @michelleleewise @coldnique @psychospore @lokisgoodgirl @silverfire475 @fictive-sl0th @springdandelixn @wheredafandomat @goldencherriess @peaches1958 @salempoe @thomase1 @kkdvkyya @a-witch-with-words @mischief2sarawr @sarawr-reads @vbecker10 @peachymallow @irishhappiness @cakesandtom @simplyholl @here4thefanfics @tallseaweed @immersed-in-mischief @joyful-enchantress @lokisninerealms @kikster606 @glitterylokislut @loz-3 @slytherclaw1227 @chantsdemarins @the-lady-amphitrite @eleniblue @km-ffluv @lokidokieokie @n3rdybirdee @melsunshine @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokischambermaid @cjand10 @asgards-princess-of-mischief ++

#Loki #Loki fanfiction #Loki fanfic #Loki fic #Loki imagine #Loki x reader #Loki x female reader #Loki x reader insert #Loki x OC #Loki x OFC #Loki x original character #Loki x original female character #Loki x yn #Loki x you #Loki fluff #Loki angst #Loki smut #Loki au #avengers Loki #Loki Laufeyson #Loki Odinson #Loki Odinson smut #Loki Odinson fluff #Loki Odinson angst #Loki Laufeyson imagine #Loki Laufeyson fanfiction #Loki Laufeyson fanfic #Loki Laufeyson x reader #Loki Laufeyson x female reader #Loki Laufeyson x original character

[coldfanbou]

Mail Order Maid

Now this is a pop-up I would want. Here is the other fic I decided on for the week. I really got airhead vibes from Momo because of this picture.

Length 2K

Momo x Mreader

Browsing the internet with nothing to do, you flick through web pages and switch between apps until a notification pops up and covers your screen. "Congratulations! You've won a prize of your choice. Please make your selection." You had yet to click on anything to warrant a pop-up, but there it was. The ad was there to stay, too, as you tried to find the button to close it. A little annoyed that you can't find it after a few minutes, you restart your phone. It doesn't help; the ad reappears as soon as you unlock it. You sigh, scroll down to the bottom of the page, and click on the prize selection button. You see a bunch of small items that were pretty useless to you. You click on the mystery object, and the ad goes away on its own. You think how weird that was before putting it out of your mind. 

A few days later, a knock on the door sends you running toward it, expecting to have your new laptop waiting for you. At the front door, the delivery hands you a paper to sign; without a thought, you sign it and hand it back. He wishes you good luck before walking away with a dolly. You look outside to see a giant box. Turning in the delivery man's direction, he's out of sight, and you're left with the giant box. The box is heavy and impossible for you to move by yourself. "The least he could've done would be to leave it inside," you think to yourself. You try to pull it forward with your hands on either side of the box. You do this a few more times before the front of the box completely breaks off. As you look inside the box, you're surprised to see a woman sitting inside. She waves to you with a smile on her face. "Who are you? Why are you in a box? How long have you been in there?" You ask as you pepper the woman with questions.

"I'm Momo! It's nice to finally meet you, Master." The woman climbs out of the box, and you get your first good look at her. She has what looks to be a bandana wrapped around her head, and as your eyes move downward, they're immediately attracted to her ample bust. A shoulderless crop top squeezes her breasts together while the rest of her outfit consists of overalls. 

"Master? What are you talking about?"

"You're my master, aren't you?" Momo looks toward your door and reads the address. Pulling out a piece of paper from between her breasts, she unfolds it before showing you. "No, this is definitely the right place. You're my Master." You read the paper, which has your name and address written on it. You think it's a prank at first, but a partial receipt shows you someone paid a considerable amount to ship Momo to you. It only gave you enough information to figure that out and nothing else."What do you want to do first, Master?" 

Momo's question gets your attention, and you look back at her. She smiles at you, looking into her eyes; there's not a thought behind them. "I…get inside, please."

"Okay!" Momo says as she walks into your home. She looks around the place before sitting down on your couch. You close the front door and stare at Momo. She looks back at you and blushes. "Don't look at me like that, Master…but if you really want to… we can do it."

"What? No. How did you get here?"

"In the box?" Momo responds, trying to understand why you would ask. "Master, you need to relax. I can give you a massage if you'd like." She says as she stands up and walks to you.

"No, I don't need a massage." You try to slap away Momo's hands, but she pushes through. Once her hands reach your shoulders, you feel your stress melt away instantly and can't argue with her. Momo gets around behind you, massaging your shoulders and pressing her tits against your back. 

"It’s okay, Master." Momo calmly states. Her massage relaxes you, and you forget to ask her any questions. It was as if Momo had some special power. You tilt your head back, glancing at Momo only to see her smile. "Let's go to the shower. I can give you a better massage there." You nod your head, and Momo leads you to the bathroom. She strips you of your clothes and asks you to sit on the chair in the shower. You do as instructed and watch as Momo strips out of her clothes. She pulls off her bandana, letting her hair fall down. After that, she unlatches the button holding her overalls and lets the piece of clothing fall to the floor. Your eyes move up her legs until you see she isn't wearing underwear. Her pink pussy was out for you to see; her thighs were getting wet from her nectar. You get hard and unconsciously stroke your cock. As your eyes move upward, you catch Momo lifting her crop top, her breasts bouncing as her shirt pops above them. Once Momo's eyes reach you, they wander down and notice you're stroking yourself. "Master, let me."

 She steps into the shower and kneels before you. Her hand replaces yours; her soft, delicate fingers wrap around your shaft before she starts stroking your cock. "You're so hard, Master. Don't worry; I'll take good care of you." You start groaning, each stroke pushing you closer to your orgasm. Once precum starts to leak from your cock Momo takes a tiny lick at the tip of your cock. A jolt of pleasure rushes down your spine, and you moan loudly. Momo uses her other hand to start the shower, causing water to rain down on both of you. Following that, it finds its place by playing with your balls, squeezing them gently. "Master, you have a lot here. I'll make sure to drain you." Momo takes another lick at the head of your cock. She pauses momentarily, leaning down to kiss it before pushing your cock inside. Your new servant keeps her lips wrapped tightly around your cock, and uses her tongue to flick the head.

"Oh fuck. You're so good at this, Momo," you moan. You push on the back of her head gently, and Momo takes in more of your cock without a problem. Her hand plays with your balls as she starts to bob her head. When you look down, you see her eyes looking back at you, pleading for you to release your stress. You hold on a little longer, your cock twitches in her mouth, and seeing you weren't going to let yourself cum, Momo pushes your cock into the back of her throat. As you hit the back of her throat, you let go and spurt rope after rope of cum. Momo's mouth fills up quickly; her cheeks puff out as they fill with cum. The salty liquid leaks from the corners of her mouth before she can drink it all. The falling water clears away your cum before Momo has a chance to collect it all. 

She moves on. However, Momo stands and starts riding your thigh as she presses her breasts against you. Grabbing some soap, Momo lathers her breasts and uses them to massage your body. You feel her grind her lower body on your thigh and hear her soft moans. "I'll take good care of you, Master." Her hard nipples drag along your chest, and you start to get hard again. She feels your cock poke her legs and smiles at you. "My Master has so much energy," Momo says as she moves forward and straddles you. Your cock is trapped between your stomach and her cunt as Momo grinds against you. Your hands start to wander around Momo's body, moving down her sides before you squeeze her ass. Momo jumps a little but giggles. "Master's so naughty." Momo's breaths become labored as you continue to play with her ass. Small moans start to leave her as she rubs her cunt against you. 

"Momo, ride me." You say, commanding her.

"Yes, Master," Momo replies as she lifts herself. You rub your cock against her entrance before pulling Momo onto it. Momo's back arches as you push more of your cock in. Her warm walls are wrapped snugly around your cock; it feels as if Momo was made for you. Momo moans loudly as she finally takes your entire cock inside. She wraps her arms around you and rests her head on your shoulder as you begin thrusting. "Ahh, Master, you're so big." 

"Do you like your Master's cock?"

"I-I love it. It's the only one for me." Momo replies as she presses her chest against you.

"Good, you'll be getting a lot more of it." You moan as you start to thrust faster. You're holding onto Momo's waist, pushing her down as you buck your hips. With every thrust, you're slamming against her cervix, making Momo a quivering mess. Her walls tighten around your cock as she begins to cry out from the pleasure. You're pushing ever closer to your orgasm when you decide to kiss Momo. Her eyes shoot open, but as you hold the kiss, she begins to accept it. You begin to explore her mouth as your tongues rub against each other. 

"Mmm, Master. I'm going to cum." She says in muffled tones. You spank Momo suddenly, causing her to yelp in pain.

"We're going to cum together; hold it." 

"Yes, Master." She moans as you give her another hard strike. You stand up and press Momo against the shower wall, her legs wrap around you, and she places her hands on your shoulder. Being pinned between the wall and you leaves Momo as a fuck doll for you. You start ramming your cock deep within Momo, your thrusts going wild. Momo starts to dig her nails into your skin. "Master, please cum. I-I can't hold it much longer."

"Hold on a little bit longer." 

"I-I can't!" Momo cries as her legs tighten around you, and she orgasms. Her walls squeeze your cock, coaxing you. You give a few more thrusts before you follow Momo's lead and climax. You bury your cock in Momo, painting her walls white as you spew hot cum into her. Capturing her lips once more, Momo weakly returns it, her chest heaving and her legs dangling as she recovers. You move back and sit down, keeping Momo attached to you. You enjoy the feeling of her cunt trying to milk you for more. Some minutes pass before you lift Momo off you. After you shut off the water, you take your cock and point it toward Momo. 

"Please clean me, Momo." Momo nods along. She takes your cock in hand and drags her tongue along your shaft. Before letting go and letting your cock slap her face. She smiles to herself before taking your cock in hand again and cleaning you up. Her tongue swirls around your cock as Momo bobs her head. Once clean, she kisses your tip and tries to stand up. She nearly tumbles, but you steady her. Cum drips out from her cunt and runs along her leg. "Take a shower if you'd like, Momo." You say as you place her on the seat you used earlier.

"Thank you, Master." You leave the shower and dry yourself off. As you wait for Momo to come out, you think about the situation again. Whatever the reason for Momo to show up, you wouldn't fight it. You had a maid now that would take care of your needs. Momo soon emerges from the shower, and you order her onto your lap.

"Momo, I'm your master, right?"

"Yes,"

"Good. Then you're not allowed to wear clothes here. I want to have access to your body whenever I want."

Momo blushes, "If that's my master's order. I have to follow it." She stands up and drops her towel to the floor. You were going to enjoy your new life with your servant.

#kpop smut #male reader #m reader #twice smut #momo smut

[bun-lapin]

Confessions

Summary: Idia confesses his love to you.

A/N: Third one shot finished! I was very sick with a summer cold while I wrote this so I hope everything makes sense. I also got very carried away with the banter and so I had to cut some dialogue to keep it to my desired work length. I hope someday I can share those deleted scenes with you all~!

Confessions series: Rook, Kalim, Idia, Floyd, Vil, Silver, Leona, Trey / AO3

Your steps hit the pale marble flooring with singular purpose. Their crisp echoes spin away from your feet, only to ricochet off of towering columns and scatter up towards a vaulted ceiling. The hallways of Ignihyde are empty and bright, lit up by informational monitors and the mysterious hum of technomancy. The air inside the dormitory is pleasantly cool and feels almost sterilized with its lack of scent. You stride past countless rooms, ignoring the few rare muffled conversations that seep out from under the occasional door.

You stop at a door identical to every other door you’ve passed so far. Reaching out, you briskly knock on the door and announce, “Idia! Open up! I’ve got an emergency!”

A few beats of silence tick by before you hear the sound of reluctant, shuffling feet moving towards you. The door slowly creaks open, just barely wide enough for a single, morose yellow eye and one half of a radiantly pale face to peer out at you.

Wordlessly, you hold up your smartphone for Idia to see. Its current state could be best described in just one word: annihilated.

Idia swings the door open completely and stares down at the remains of your phone in abject horror, sputtering, “What the-! How-? What were you trying to do?! Vaporize your phone or something?!”

Handing over your former communication device, you step into the room and tiredly reply, “Several crucial mistakes were made today. Can you fix it?”

Idia’s face breaks into a wide, smug grin. He closes the bedroom door with a prideful scoff and boasts, “Like that’s even a question. Can I fix it? That’s undeniable! Too EZ. I could fix something like this with both eyes closed and my hands behind my back!”

You make your way over towards a tall bookshelf on the far side of the room and grin back at him, “Well that’s good news for me then! I’ll be over here perusing your manga collection while you get to work.”

Idia sighs wearily as he sets himself down in front of a worktable covered in various tools and hardware. “So business as usual I guess,” he mutters gloomily but from the corner of your eye, you manage to catch sight of the smallest of smiles flashing across his face.

As Idia sets up the necessary materials and begins his assignment, you trace your finger down the length of the bookshelf, scanning titles and making future reading selections. An interestingly named one catches your eye and you carefully retrieve it from its place on the shelf. With today’s selection in hand, you amble over to Idia’s worktable, seat yourself in a comfortable chair next to his, and begin reading.

Several minutes of easy silence pass by, periodically punctuated by the ambient sounds of lightly clicking repair work and the soft turning of pages. The two of you continue your parallel activities in this way for a few more minutes before you suddenly hear a short, quiet laugh from Idia.

You glance up curiously from your reading and ask, “Something funny?”

Idia does not stop or look up from his task but he smiles softly. He admits in a slightly bemused voice, “I was just thinking that this feels nice. This familiar scene, with you reading next to me while I work on a project. I never thought I'd get so comfortable with you barging into my room whenever you wanted."

You raise your eyebrows playfully and ask in a gently teasing tone, “Oh? So does that mean you used to feel uncomfortable with my visits?”

Idia turns his head to face you with an exaggerated look of retroactive disbelief and exclaims, “Understatement of the century! I was definitely super uncomfortable with your interruptions in the beginning and I believe I distinctly remember telling you to never come back on several separate occasions.”

“Yeah but you let me back in every single time afterwards,” you quip back with a self-satisfied grin.

“Well, of course. You wanted to read my manga,” Idia states frankly as he turns back to his work. “I don’t lend out my books to people I don’t know super well. If I don’t know your reading style, then reading my books requires my direct supervision!”

“Well you know my reading style now,” you say gesturing broadly to the careful and considerate way you hold the book you are currently reading. “Do you trust me enough to lend me a book now?”

Idia seems to suddenly freeze at the sound of your last question. With a hand poised elegantly in the air, clutching a small tool, he would look every bit like a beautiful statue if it weren’t for the slight flickering movement of his soft blue hair. Turning with almost excruciating slowness, he takes the book from your hands in a gentle and deliberate action and grabs a nearby bookmark to place inside before finally closing and placing it face down on the table.

Idia turns his chair so that his body is completely facing you but his eyes are cast down and to the side, still on the book. A breath of silence passes between the two of you before he finally speaks in a carefully measured voice.

"I do trust you. I completely and utterly trust you. But I'll never lend you any of my books because I want you to keep reading them here next to me."

Idia turns his head and looks into your eyes. There’s still the ever present, tired hesitation weighing down his brows, but you see something else in his face, never seen before. In his bright yellow eyes shines a fiery determination, fueled by newly realized desire.

You gaze silently into Idia’s eyes, almost hypnotized. An eternity seems to pass by in seconds like this until Idia suddenly throws his pale, thin hands over his face. You blink rapidly in surprise at the abrupt end to the moment. With fingers pressed tightly against his face, Idia’s voice comes out muffled and anxious.

“I need to tell you something really important but it might be kinda cringe? And I don’t think I have the nerve to say it out loud with you looking at me so can you please close your eyes? And also can you promise not to laugh at anything I say?”

Even though Idia can’t see you with his hands completely covering his face, you smile softly at him and state in a reassuring voice, “I promise not to laugh and I’ll close my eyes.”

With your eyes closed tight, you listen to the faint rustling of his clothes as he hesitantly lowers his arms and you hear the slight creaking of his chair, as if he is leaning himself towards you. Suddenly, you feel an ambient warmth on the side of your face and realize Idia has moved in closer to whisper into your ear. A faint feeling like feather softness swipes over your cheek and you think it must be some of Idia’s hair, flickering luxuriously against your skin like incense smoke. When he finally speaks, his voice is a low murmur against your ear.

"When I leave my room, all the whispers I hear behind my back and the stares I see from the corner of my eye... It's like harsh noise and screeching static to me. It’s overwhelming,”

Idia’s voice drops even quieter and you can almost feel his soft breath on your face as he draws a little closer, "But when I'm with you everything goes quiet. When I'm with you I feel safe."

For a few moments, the only sound in the room is the sound of the two of you breathing. The soft sound of air falling up and down weaves over and onto itself almost like calming music. Then Idia lets out a shuddering sigh, the air from his lips brushing over your skin like cool silk, and the silence melts away under his low voice.

"I've been thinking about this a lot lately. Thinking about you. When I open my eyes in the morning, I immediately think of you. When I close my eyes at night, it's your face I see. I think what this all must mean, what I’ve just now realized, is that I love you."

Your eyes fly open in surprise and you whip your head to the side to look at Idia, acting purely on instinct. His face is so close to yours, the tip of his nose almost brushes against yours. His eyes grow wide and bright from shock but he doesn’t pull away from you. Idia opens his mouth but all that comes out is a kind of strangled gasp. You read the question he can’t seem to ask, written all over his pale and unquiet face.

“Do you love me too?”

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst fanfic #twst imagines #twst idia #idia shroud #idia x reader #gn!reader #fluff and romance #bun-lapin écrit

[mrswint3rs]

    Another Way to Pay                       

pairing- Resident Evil 4 Merchant x Fem reader

Summary- You go to your trusted merchant in need of supplies for your job but you have no way of paying for them. Or so you thought.

a/n- idk how I feel ab this one but he’s so ngh

25 days of Kinkmas day 3 - Mask kink?/ praise

NSFW WARNING:

contains- Unprotected sex, use of pet names kinda, sex with a stranger, one singular ass spank, (idk what else to put)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You stand before the merchant, the man who has been providing ammunition for your mission thus far. However, you find yourself out of pesetas, your mission at risk of failure.

"What ya' buyin, stranger?" His australian accent thick as always, somewhat comforting compared to the things occurring outside. You desperately need supplies if you're wanting to make it out alive, but you spent the last of your currency on that SR during your last encounter. "I don't have any pesetas left." you confess.

"That's a shame," the merchant sighs, "but pesetas ain't the only form of currency, mate." You look at him quizzically, not following his statement. "I don't have any valuables to sell either..." You counter. The man chuckles to himself. You're not entirely sure what he could be finding comical. It's also hard to read him, considering all you can really see are his eyes. To be honest, the man is a complete mystery to you. You don't even know why he's helping you out so much, or where he came from.

"That wasn't what I was implying," He replies. "If you're willing, you could pay with that pretty body of yours." You're a bit shocked at his suggestion. Was he being serious? Once again you couldn't read him with that mask covering 90% of his face. But his eyes didn't tear away from yours even for a second. Those piercing eyes of his made you feel small in a way. "Are you seriously suggesting that we..." You scoff and look away. The thought of screwing a stranger in such a place was unreal. But you really needed those supplies, you couldn't deny that. "Choice is yours." He states.

You couldn't believe you were actually considering. You didn't even know this man, or what he looked like. Nor did you know his name. Yet in a way, that made the idea more enticing.

"And what exactly will I be getting in return?" You ask. You didn't want to do this and not get what you came for. "You fulfill my needs and I'll give ya' a temporary free discount." He offers. That seemed way too generous. This man had so many valuables and so much ammunition, you knew that. Nothing worth just giving away. Was he really that lonely out here? Though, you did seem to be one of the only people here who wasn't infected with las plagues.

"I'll do it." You decide. It was a small price to pay to save your own ass. It could've been worse.

The merchant stands, removing his large coat in which he stored most of his items. His hood comes off, but the handkerchief mask remains, leaving his face unknown still. He was much larger than you. "Well then," He starts, "bend over this table f' me. Will ya'?"

You do as told, propping yourself up by your elbows as you bend over the wooden furniture. He doesn't hesitate to approach you from behind, pulling down your pants with ease. "Still sure about this, sweetheart?" He questions and you nod. You couldn't back out of this now. You had already dedicated yourself to your goal. "Just don't get too carried away." He chuckles at that before removing his own constraints and revealing his already hardened length. You want so badly to turn around and observe but you remain looking at your own hands, resting on the table.

Unannounced, his beefy fingers enter your mouth, swabbing for your saliva. His actions turned you on more than you thought they would. Once his digits are slick with your spit, he rubs your wetness onto the head of his dick, prepping to enter you. He positions himself, seemingly about to enter your ass, causing you to tense. "Just teasin'," he laughs heartily and repositions to your other opening. "Ready for me?" You let out a relieved sigh and nod again. "Yes sir..." He grins at your response. "Ahh..sir, eh? That's cute."

Without wasting time, he plunges his full length into you, causing you to cry out. He holds you gently by your hips, grinding into you at a steady pace. He was bigger than you imagined. Every time he trusted into you, you felt yourself weaken. His strong arm hooks under you, holding you steady. You let out quiet whines into the table you're desperately gripping onto. "Such a good girl," the merchant groans, "Ya' look so pretty beneath me." You arch against him, wanting more. "Feels so...so good." you mewl. You almost feel ashamed at how much you're enjoying this. His cock was the perfect size and you couldn't control your sounds. Your face fully pressed against the silky tablecloth as his hips continue their movement, and his girth massaging your insides so well.

His hand smacks your ass playfully, but not hard enough to sting. You were completely lost in pleasure at this point. He was fucking you so roughly, your thoughts started getting hazy. Your knees went weak and you start to slump but his bulky arm holds you steady. Meanwhile his other hand goes up through your hair, sweetly caressing your head. "It's alright sweet thing, i've gotcha," His thrusts quicken even further as he gets consumed by the pleasure as well. "Gonna cum for me soon?" You nod lazily with half lidded eyes. "Good girl," he praises again, "go on, make a mess for me sweetheart." The table creeks so much with each of his thrusts, you're almost scared it's gonna break.

You feel a tightness in your core as your orgasm creeps. His rough, calloused fingertips felt so nice, petting your hair. It would be enough to lull you to sleep if not for his rutting into you. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear, pushing you to your climax even faster. As you start to gush around him, his pounding slows. "You're doing so well," Your legs spread wider, giving him a nice view of your steadily dripping pussy. His grip tightens as he fucks into you faster. Your walls are still pulsing and clenching around him from you reaching your peak.

"Mnn..gonna fill ya' up." His breath quickens from the intense pleasure. "please...yes, cum inside me." You babble. You're not sure where your vulgarity came from, the lewd words just got fucked out of you. He lets out a low groan at your begging, his cock uncontrollably spurting into you. "Atta girl..." he breathes, "take it all for me." His hips continue jerking but gradually slow as he drains inside you. Feeling satisfied, he starts to relax. He subtly removes his hand from your hair to hold onto your waist once more.

"I'm real grateful." he pulls out of you cautiously, "doin' alright?" You stabilize yourself and readjust your clothing. "Yeah, just a bit y'know...frazzled." He laughs, finding you adorable. You couldn't even bring yourself to look him in the eyes. He could tell you were embarrassed but also recalled that you were in a hurry.

He pulls his own pants back up, putting his coat back on and covering himself again. "Well, you earned your free discount." You had almost forgotten about the deal.

You stock up on the items you needed. Ammo, herbs, ect. You didn't have time to deal with the awkward aftermath. This job wasn't going to be easy, and it certainly wasn't going to resolve itself. As much as you enjoyed everything, you really didn't have the time for this.

Of course, the merchant understood. "I enjoyed your company. Come back anytime, stranger."

mlist

#resident evil 4 merchant #resident evil 4 #resident evil 4 x reader #fem reader #re4 remake #re4 #re4make #resident evil 4 merchant x reader #fanfiction #smut #i might rewrite this someday

[cvlutos]

"IN MY LOVE"

| 03.24.2022 | —K | Mature |

Lucifer X GN!Reader

| Characters 18+ | Smut | Poetry | Implied reference of God | Established Relationship | Gentle Sex | Etc | Proceed with Caution, Dearest.

How much longer can you take it?

How much longer can you deny me?

Despite all my words? Despite all my actions? Despite the teasing of skin, the shallow kisses, the briefest moments of in which I allow myself to feel.

His hands are firm upon your skin, eyes watching your face contort. Your lips tremble and gasp for breath. Clawing at ruined bedsheets as your back arches beautifully so. Incoherent words slipping past your lips, your eyes rolling into the back of your skull, as a thin layer of sweat covers your skin.

Yes. To feel.

His hair sticks to his forehead, nestled between your thighs, gently rolling his hips, feeling your walls clamp around him desperately, gripping him like a vice, that has him groan and choke, his forehead pressed against yours, his hands enveloping your hands, as he peppers desperate kisses across your face.

To give in to such human emotions, to allow myself to not operate in that of not lust but love. Yes, love. I am not incapable of understanding it, nor does it come as mystery. But an oddity. I love the feeling of love. I love the feeling of your love.

You whisper his name, entwined your fingers with his, palm to palm as your body shudders, your legs hanging off his hips, feeling every stuttered roll.

I apology, though not in words, I cannot. I desire to be softer, kinder to you. Though I find myself often fighting against ever carnal part of me that wishes to completely take over you. To claim every portion of your heart and soul, etch and burn my name into your skin. Even if it hurts.

You're beautiful.

With beautiful eyes that stare in such a daze, lips that press and fit so perfectly against mine, your chest that begs for breathe, your lips that shake and tremble, your throat, so open to my marks and claims. You're beautiful.

How much longer can you take it?

A beg for release, feeling his harden length drag along your walls, twitching and pulsing against you most sensitive parts, smearing his leaking juices against your insides. Feeling him slowly pump his cum into you. You hands clawing at his shoulders, begging—pleading, your voice creaking and breathless.

You seem to glow.

When you come, your body tensing as you struggle to breath. He watches you, arms gently support you, eyes fluttering close as you cling to him.

For him to create such inferior beings, those so easily breakable, pliable against my harsh hands. A part of me understands—your lips are gently against mine—a part of me vows that you, yes you. A human so weak, fragility is your birth right, yet even against the odds, you are so strong. A part of me wonders if that's what follows with human love.

In my love for you.

ⓒ 2023 cvlutos — all rights reserved. Any sort of plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing of my works are strictly prohibited.

#t.manor.erotic.stories #obey me lucifer #Lucifer smut #lucifer x reader #lucifer x reader smut #lucifer obey me #obey me #obey me smut #obey me x reader #obey me shall we date #obey me drabbles

[i-am-a-l0st-gh0st]

Time to make another crazy request with lyney!!

Lyney goes to the same school as the reader and finds them in a complete panic attack hiding under the stairs! *Don't feel forced to do it if u don't wanna*

If you do wanna do it please make it a gn!reader!! Much love💕

The breathing exercises hurt- lyney x gn!reader

They don’t do f3ck all t/w- panic attack, physical touch, lyney being cute summary- as shown above a/n- i love this request! it so cute!

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Taglist form!

The bell rang to signal the end of lunch but you weren’t going anywhere, You couldn’t. Well, at least that's what it felt like. Despite there being nothing but one wall supporting your back you feel claustrophobic, You were shaking and the thoughts just wouldn’t stop. They raced around and around like a race car. The sounds of people collecting their stuff and the loud chatter and heavy steps were too loud.

No one ever came this way, you were hoping no one did especially now. You looked so vulnerable, your eyes puffy and red, your cheeks tear-stained. The concrete was somewhat comforting,

These thoughts only ended up reverting to your panic attack. Why won't it stop? Why. Why! A pair of footsteps came from around the corner. You didn’t realise until a blonde-haired boy was standing right in front of you.

“Oh my. Are you alright?” He sat down in front of you trying to be quiet enough not to startle you.

You couldn’t form the words to tell the boy to go away. You started to notice some details about him. He had medium-length blonde hair and on his left cheek, he had the mark of a tear. Nothing else stuck out much except his ocean-like eyes.

“Hey look at me. Can you try and tell me your name? If not that okay.”

You tried to form some words, and you ended up telling him your name.

“Y/n okay what I want you to do is focus on 5 things you can see.”

You could barely see past the tears that clouded your vision and even if you could you couldn’t speak. The walls kept closing in and you were almost choking on sobs.

“May I touch you, as in hold your hand?”

You could only nod, you didn't mind physical comfort and it might be worth a try. You felt his hand against your own bringing warmth to your body. “Can you focus on my touch then?”

You felt warm and fuzzy. His finger began to rub against your hand soothingly, and you could feel the tears slow down. You started to recite the 5 things you could see. “The clouds outside sniff the umm concrete…” You paused, he was smiling at you, you’d never had anyone look at you like that before.

“You're doing great.” He squeezed your hand a bit tighter.

Your breathing was still irregular but was almost starting to return. “You… The sky… And um birds.”

His smile brightened, “do I need to go through the rest of the thing? Or are you feeling better?”

“I think im okay now sniff”

“That's great!”

A silence fell between you two, and you then realised you’d never asked this mysterious boy's name before. He answered you saying his name was Lyney.

“Most people would’ve walked past… How did you know what to do?”

“My brother has panic attacks. he usually comes to me to help him.”

You leaned your head on his shoulder without thinking, he turned away and covered his face. Lyney wrapped his arm around you pulling you closer. You didn’t mind this he was war and was quite a comfy makeshift pillow. Safe to say you would be spending the rest of the period with him.

Taglist

@pandragonsoul @atsukawolfcat

#genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact #fluff #gn reader #genshin fluff #angst #genshin angst #lyney genshin impact #lyney genshin #lyney #lyney x reader #genshin impact lyney #genshin lyney #lyney x you #lyney x y/n #lyney x gender neutral reader #lyneyfluff #lyney fluff #lyney angst

[fuckyeahgoodomensfanfic]

Good Omens Fic Rec: Postcards From Paris

Crowley has just moved into his Mayfair apartment and finds a postcard addressed to the previous tenant. With no return address, he's left to collect and read the mysterious A.Z.F.'s adventures across Europe, where he hunts for bizarre bibles and rates ridiculously expensive wine in his free time. The question is: How will A.Z.F. react when Crowley finally gets his return address and writes back? It was different, he knew, to accidentally read someone else’s postcard versus intentionally perusing one in place of good newspaper over coffee. Crowley decided he was allowed that indecency, to balance out the good deed of safeguarding the mail in the first place. He kicked his feet up onto his desk, scooped up the takeaway coffee that was brought around by their newest intern, and settled in to read some of the most densely crowded handwriting he’d ever laid eyes on.

Length: 12,331 words

AO3 Rating: General Audiences

Best for: Safe in Public, Pick-Me-Up, Fluff, Human AU

Triggers: None

Read it here, fic by ghostrat

*Minor Spoilers* I am hurrying to write this post before it hits midnight in Australia so that I can say HAPPY BIRTHDAY @mrghostrat!!! Bilvy is one of my favorite creators here, not only for their amazing art but because they back it up with excellent writing every time. I genuinely am so impressed with the amount of work they do, I can't imagine how it all gets done so quickly with this level of quality. Thank you for all that you do, and I hope that you had a great birthday!

Anyway, you're here for the story! For it's length, this is such a rich story. You quickly fall into this world as our anxious and lonely Crowley starts receiving postcards that belonged to the previous tenant from the mysterious A.Z.F. Soon he starts writing back, and well, you can guess how it'll go. What Bilvy does so well, is take some pretty standard romance tropes and finds a way to do them uniquely and at 100. Every one of their stories feels like it could be a real rom-com and I mean that as a compliment. The pacing, the dialogue, the little details all come together and make their stories so engaging.

This is such a sweet treat, it's a perfect pick-me-up. You just can't help being charmed by this story. Completely safe in public, the only thing you'll need to worry about is how much you'll be smiling during this. Happy Birthday Bilvy, we're so lucky to have you!

I can't post about them until they are finished, but you guys should also be reading Big Name Feelings and And They Were Streamers! They're so good!

Read it here, fic by ghostrat

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #good omens fanfic #fanfic rec #aziracrow #good omens fic rec #aziraphale x crowley #Postcards From Paris #ghostrat #short #no spice #fluff #pick me up #safe in public #human au #books au #bookseller au

[byersbootyshorts]

okay so love the virgin eddie content ofc but now it's got me thinking about shy virgin jonathan that's never felt the touch of a woman getting his world absolutely fucking rocked by reader, thoughts?

What Happens In The Darkroom…

Summary: After years of being fascinated by the mystery that is Jonathan Byers you finally get what you want.

Pairing: Jonathan Byers x fem!reader

Warnings: sub!Jonathan, dom!reader, smut, hand job

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: This request made me scream ngl. This isn’t much but I have an idea for a part 2 so if you like this please let me know. Even if you don’t like it I’ll probably write it anyway because holy shit sub!Jonathan.

Click here for part 2

Jonathan Byers always fascinated you. You’d never spoken a word to him but you crossed paths more often than people thought.

You were the head photographer of the Hawkins High newspaper and so you were constantly in the school’s darkroom developing photos for the newest issue. And it just so happened that almost every time you were in there, Jonathan was too, developing his own photos in the opposite corner, not saying a word.

And that was how it always was. You’d enter the darkroom with some new photos to develop, notice Jonathan working away at the other side of the room and get on with it. You didn’t even think he’d ever made eye contact with you, despite your constant close proximity to one another.

And that was why you found him so intriguing. He was a complete mystery. And it was that mystery that made you all the more attracted to him. You’d never tell your friends this, of course, but the more time you spent in his presence the more you wanted to talk to him; to touch him; to do things to him you only thought about late at night.

It was just another usual day. The final bell rang and you swiftly made your way to the darkroom to develop some photos you’d taken of the basketball team’s latest victory. Although, when you entered the room, you were startled. Jonathan, who was usually in his own little world at the back of the room, was working right next to where you always did.

You stopped dead in your tracks for a moment out of sheer shock before continuing as if nothing was different. You went to your usual place and grabbed the equipment you needed before getting to work. But you were distracted.

Jonathan was so close to you you could hear his shallow breaths. You felt almost rude not talking to him when he no more than an arm’s length away from you. So, you decided to do something you hadn’t done in the two years you’d known him. You decided to talk to Jonathan Byers.

‘Wanted a change of scenery today, huh?’ you asked, your voice a little louder than you expected.

Jonathan was taken aback. He almost dropped his camera as you spoke.

‘W-what?’ he stuttered, confused as to why you randomly decided to acknowledge him.

‘You’re normally over there,’ you pointed to the back corner of the room. ‘I’m just making an observation.’

‘Oh right, yeah, I, uh, well, the light’s broken so I have to use a different one,’ he mumbled.

‘And even with all the other lights working you had to use the one right beside me,’ you joked.

‘Uh, sorry, I-.’

‘Hey, it’s fine, Byers. I’m joking,’ you laughed.

‘You know my name?’ Jonathan asked, the look of confusion on his face growing more and more prominent.

‘Of course I do. What, you think we’ve been going to the same school for two years, using this room together and I don’t know your name? We even have some classes together.’

‘I know, it’s just, most people don’t even notice me.’ Jonathan continued to look down at his photos, not daring to meet your eyes.

‘Well, you are pretty quiet,’ you replied.

He didn’t say anything after that so you turned back to your work station and began developing your photos.

After about thirty minutes Jonathan was finished for the day. He’d hung up his photos and packed his camera back in his bag. However, as he made his way to the door something came over you. You didn’t want things to go back to the way they were before. You didn’t want to come into the darkroom the next day to find Jonathan holed up in his usual little corner. You didn’t want to just admire him from afar anymore because, now that you’d seem him up close, you wanted him more than ever. Besides, you hadn’t failed to notice all the times he glanced in your direction as you worked side by side that day.

No, you couldn’t let him get away this time.

Just as he was about to grab the doorknob you bolted over and turned the lock.

‘Wha- what are you doing?’ he asked. Your faces were so close you could feel his breath tickle your face. You made eye contact for the first time since meeting him.

‘What I’ve always wanted to do.’

You grabbed his face and pulled it towards you. Your lips met with such force that Jonathan let out a high-pitched whimper. You didn’t wrap your arms around him in case he wanted to pull away. You had no idea if he even wanted this and expected him to pull himself away. But he didn’t.

He was frozen at first, his lips rigid, his body stiff, but it only took a second for him to melt into you. His lips softened, allowing your tongue access to his mouth. His tongue tasted like mint as it tangled with yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck; his hands just barely brushed your waist. You could tell he had no idea what he was doing. You walked forward, still locked in the kiss, until his back hit the wall.

You moved your hands up from his neck to his hair, pulling lightly on the greasy strands. Each tug caused Jonathan to release yet another whine. Eventually you pulled his head back, breaking your lips apart.

Jonathan was a mess. His eyes bulged in shock. He seemed as though he could barely stand and his breaths were shaky and uneven. His eyes weren’t the only thing that was bulging.

Pressed so close to him you could feel the swell in his pants. You removed one hand from his hair and slowly dragged it down his body to his jeans. Jonathan swallowed deeply as you rubbed him, aching to remove the layer of fabric between your hand and his dick.

‘Help,’ he breathed.

‘What was that?’ you asked in an assertive tone.

‘Help, please,’ he moaned.

‘Oh, you want some help with that?’ you nodded down to his bulge. ‘But we’re in school. I can’t,’ you teased.

‘Please,’ Jonathan begged, burying his head in your neck. ‘I don’t care. Please. I don’t care what you do to me.’

Hearing Jonathan beg so pathetically like that made you want to fuck him right then and there. But you got a hold of yourself. You wanted to take things slow.

‘Well, seeing as you asked so nicely.’

You took a painfully long time unbuckling Jonathan’s belt, undoing his buttons and pulling down his pants.

‘Hmm, not bad,’ you smirked down at his exposed cock, then back up at Jonathan. His eyes were already closed in concentration and you had barely even touched him yet.

‘Look at me, Jonathan,’ you ordered. His eyes flicked open at the mention of his name. And when they met yours, you swiftly wrapped your hand around his dick. A small whimper escaped him but his eyes remained locked on yours. So, you began to move your hand up and down his cock, slow at first, agonisingly slow.

You pulled him close again, kissing him briefly before your lips made their way to his jaw and down his neck. You left dark red marks all the way down the left side of his neck while still maintaining a steady pace with your hand.

The louder his moans grew, the faster you pumped your hand. Every so often Jonathan’s waist jutted forward and you pushed him back with a kiss. After a long while Jonathan moans morphed into screams. The sudden loudness made you stop abruptly, causing Jonathan to let out a whine that sounded more like a sad dog.

‘We’re in school, remember? Keep it down.’

‘I will. I’m sorry. Please, keep going, please. I can’t…’

He threw his head back and shut his eyes tightly. You noticed a singular tear escape from his right eye as you picked up your pace once more. His whimpers got higher as he tried his best to supress them. Even though he was being quiet as you asked, you couldn’t help yourself placing your free hand over his mouth. Shit, he looked so pathetically hot like this.

You felt air move in and out of his nose as he tried to steady his erratic breathing.

His dick convulsed in your hand and you knew he wouldn’t last much longer. You removed your hand from his mouth and pulled his chin down so his eyes aligned with yours. His brows furrowed in expectance.

‘Not yet,’ you whispered.

You rubbed your thumb on around his wet tip. You were curious to see how much he could take. To your disappointment, it wasn’t much.

Soon you had to return your hand back over his mouth as he whined louder than ever, cum shooting from his exhausted cock.

‘I’m sorry,’ he whimpered when you pulled your hand away from his mouth. ‘I’m sorry, I couldn’t hold-. Fuck.’

‘It’s okay,’ you replied, not doing anything to mask your disappointment. You grabbed his shirt and wiped your cum covered hand on it. Then, you walked away from him as though nothing happened, leaving him there, mouth agape, jeans at his ankles, too in awe to speak.

You packed up your things, grabbed your bag and walked back over to him. Putting your mouth to his ear you whispered.

‘Just know, next time I won’t be so forgiving.’

You quickly placed a kiss on his cheek before turning on your heel, unlocking the door and leaving.

Part 2

#jonathan byers #jonathan byers x reader #sub!jonathan byers #smut oneshot #dom!reader #jonathan byers smut #jonathan byers one shot #stranger things #oneshot #smut fic #stranger things smut #hand jop

[brights-place]

Slenderman is Goddess! Spouse

Pairings: Slenderman X la Muerte! Reader

Warnings: Murder, Gore, Supernatural, Fluff, Angst, Cussing

A/N: Okay so I had this idea slenderman dating an godess of life for example like La muerte who I think is SO FUCKING HOT! she is amazing and Slenderman dating someone like her would be so fun to write!

- When the creepypasta members saw you they first thought you were an intruder you were human - before they attacked you slenderman appeared right infront of you bending himself down to face you properly "(Name)" "Slender" You said smiling softly to him as you both disappeared once he gave you his hand - When you both are alone he picks you up like you are a teddy bear and makes you lay your head on his chest as you chuckle - You and Slender kept your relationship an secret until Jeff entered the office to hand over his report but walked in on you kissing Slender is cheek - As his spouse he makes sure to take care of you - he keeps his scary and tough demeanor but around you? he just tries his bets for you not to show PDA in public he had to keep his scary demeanor! - Due to Slender Man's history being completely unknown it is hard to determine just what he is thinking, although he is commonly seen as a cruel, sadistic, manipulative, predatory, misanthropic demon. It is entirely unknown if Slender Man actually cares for his proxies' safety, or if he's just using them in order to get what he wants, showing his controlling and tyrannical personality - Yet... he married you !! an Human? a basic human who... who didn't even he was just so CONFUSED! well he thought you were Human... - You were gonna be his victim, you were going to die in his hands yet he didn't even do that he just stared at you - He was confused on how everything around you bloomed and became more colorful showing life - You two were the opposites of eachother Slender Man is a mystery. He looks like a human being, but doesn’t act like one. It is uncertain if he is a social creature, understands human languages or behaviors, or even why humans appear to be his primary targets while you were a 'human' who was positive and shown to be a largely kind and loving woman, showing a deeply caring and welcoming attitude to almost everyone you have meet. You were free-spirited and festive. It is believed that the kindness and love of mortal-kind stem from your own - He loves to slow dance with you but he always has to bend down when you were in your Human form of course - He found it peculiar when flower petals always walked behind you - When slender cut Rogue by accident cause she was in the way when he was throwing Wilson the basher against the wall for failing his mission - Slender never told any of his useless proxies or the lower Creepypasta's knew about you but when you appeared from thin air staring at Slenderman who dropped Wilson and the other proxies who failed the missions down quickly turning his ehad towards you the dark appearance and shadowy places that where showing disappeared as he felt his blood drain - You satred at him eye twitching as your fists balled as your human form turned to you true godess form as you shouted loudly "SLENDER!" Slender spoke quickly "My love-" - He watched as you scolded him but he couldn't help but admire your appearance

- Despite both of you being as old and ancient as time itself,you kept youe vision of youth and radiant beauty as you were made entirely of white sugar candy with knee-length H/c licorice hair that is tied in a low ponytail with bangs split on either side and multi-colored glowing eyes with aqua eyeshadow that are in shades of gold and red. While your red dress decorated with cempasuchil (Mexican marigold flowers) all over and marigold flowers with lit white wax candles at the hem of your dress. You also wear an extremely large, wide-brimmed sombrero bedecked with more lit candles and marigolds, small skulls, pink-plumed, curly, swirly feathers and palm leaves. Also wearing a circular gold locket on a choker that he had given you - The proxies were smirking happily being protected by the goddess of life - He makes sure on November second that he comes with you cause you say its the most special day to you which was the day of the dead - You both Slow dance together listening to Classical music -  Though you two have a complicated relationship with due to your different beliefs and the completely different, opposite antagonistic lands and realms you both ruled. - As your husband he does his best to make time for you - When he is out "working" in his words he is just getting victims while you on the other hand would scold him but knew it was his only way of well eating - You knew that Slender wins over the confidence of children but adults are repulsed by fear. - He chooses children because he can take longer to nurture their fear, stalking them for years before attacking them as adults. - He brainwashes children, using them to further his own (unspecified) ends as Proxies. Children are simply easier for him to hunt and eat - You spend time with the younger Creepypasta's and make sure that they are patched up - The other creepypasta's were weary of you and still are - But DAMN! you knew how to cook some good food - If the creepypastas are close to the brink of death they literally scream in their heads for slender to get them or have backup which slender does... sometimes - But if they shout your name at all within any space giving life well Poof your their in an second taking them and scolding them for almost getting caught - Slender makes sure to try maintain his anger issues but he does lash out of the Proxies if they do anything wrong - When you two argue about the creepypastas you speak up "Anyone can die. These kids, they will have the courage to live and fight" you said as slender argued back to you "They are adults My love" "Yes but what has happened to them they were only mere children! well some of them!" You said back as slender groaned in annoyance pinching the bridge of where his nose would be... if he even had one

- Yes you two have different perspectives on humankind for example you believe that humankind is completely good, true and pure while Slender thinks and believes that humankind is selfish, greedy, sinful and concerned only in its own interest on the other hand. - Despite your differences and occasional conflicts you two complement each other perfectly.

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

©brights-place 2023 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact!

#creepypasta #not safe for minors #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #smut #creepypasta x y/n #creepypasta headcanons #slenderman x you #slenderman x y/n #slenderman x reader #slenderman #slenderman headcanons #creepypasta headcanon #headcanons #creepypasta hcs #slenderverse

[milkiangl]

FEEDING ON THE INNOCENT.

pairing : vampire!eddie munson x innocent!fem!reader

summary : legends say that evil lurks just beneath the midnight veil of the forest, but you never expected the darkness to be so mesmerizing.

warning : SMUT, soft!dark!eddie, hints of mean!eddie, corruption kink, unprotected sex, taunting, semi-public forest sex, innocence kink, readers virginity being taken, praise kink, multiple orgasms, slight mocking and degradation, fingering, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, descriptions of blood, pet-names, mention of biting and fangs.

authors note : vampire!eddie has captured yet another victims mind this week, and that would be me! :0 i just couldn’t help but stretch my fingers and indulge in typing away about this fandoms most insane yet hopeful theory that the duffer brothers need to scribble away in their pink diaries about with their glitter pens for next season.

| stranger things masterlist | eddie munson masterlist | gif credit |

Hawkins was customary to it’s endless enumerate of myths and legends. Devil Worshippers. Interdenominational Beings. The list only proceed from there; however, one infamous folk tale has succeeded in circulating the entirety of the small town’s people for years.

Haunting tales of an inhumane creature prowling the nearby woods at the dead of night is gossiped about amongst adolescents and solemnly superstitious adults.

The terrorizing horror of the unknown predator patiently waiting for the arrival of foolish humans to enter his territory leaves the woodlands vacant, apart from the vacuous and intoxicated teenagers intending to complete a dare made by their peers; never seeming to return to tell the tale.

The question truthfully remains unanswered as to why you established yourself surrounded by numerous soaring trees, encouraging darkness to retreat to every inch of Mother Nature’s forgotten land. You remained engulfed within the forest’s presence, a distant pattern of an Owl’s distinctive call echoing.

Deceased twigs snapped beneath your feet, heart skipping at least ten beats off normal course. The slightest perception of any unfamiliar sounds prompted an uncanny chill to travel down the length of your spine.

The unprovable theory you’ve come to the conclusion of that your every motion was being watched through ravening eyes made you endure anything but tranquility and serene. Yet, you ventured further under the vivid twilight of your obscure surroundings with curiosity radiating from your pores.

Gasping at an unexpected gust of wind encompassing you, your fingers fidgeted apprehensively with the ruffles of your dress; pondering what immense insanity prompted this reckless decision of yours.

“Now now, what’s an innocent thing like you doing out here all alone at night?” An unmistakably cavernous voice spoke from behind you, interrupting your train of thought as the blood coursing through your veins ran cold.

The mysterious figure circled around you steadily; clarified beneath the intense full moon, you were greeted with a pair of big brown irises and smug grin that revealed a sliver of the stranger’s sparkly white teeth; goosebumps coating your skin at the mere sight of how prominent his knines appeared to be; sharp enough to effortlessly pierce flesh.

His heavy combat boots shattered ancient pieces of fallen wood with every step he took, closing himself around your helpless figure. “S’not safe, y’know? The Big Bad Wolf loves to feed on sweet little things like you.”

Reaching forward, he began to softly trace the fragile skin below your jawline; a meek gasp escaping your parted lips at the frigid contact. His gentle touch was ice cold, enveloping you in an array of unexpected chills.

You were oblivious to how much he could truly sense in that moment: the sound of how rapidly your heart was beating, the feeling of your pulse point just beneath the pad of his middle finger, the scent of how sweet and tempting the blood flowing through your veins was, and the sight of evocative images flashing through your mind of what you envisioned your fate to be.

“M’not gonna harm you, sweetheart. How could I ever torment such a delicate creature?” He would and he could, but the naiveness dripping from your aura rendered him weakened. He listened closely to your inner monologue surveying his words.

The Angel on one shoulder pleaded with you to turn back now, beg the dangerous man you were in the presence of for mercy and approval to safely return home. Although, on the other, the Devil only challenged your natural instincts. This is what you were here for in the first place, isn’t it? You want your innocence tainted and the danger he’s able to provide you with.

The guard you had built was plummeting quickly, rendering you defenseless. You knew how much trouble you were in right then; yet, you searched for protection in his touch.

His tongue leisurely dragged across his bottom lip, line of vision trailing further down to where he could practically taste the seeping arousal between your thighs; veiled just beneath the fabric of your skirt, away from prying eyes.

His stare intimidated you exceedingly, your bare legs compressing around nothing but the heartbeat between them.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about, honey?” He knew what you were thinking, knew what foreign anguish was hypnotizing your senses from the way you gazed up at him through widened eyes; a blend of fear, curiosity, and desire swimming in your irises. He just needed to hear you say it yourself.

“You don’t even know what to think, do you? So desperate and needy, clenching your thighs together ‘cause that baby brain of yours is just too dumb to ask for help.” He taunted, observing you thoroughly whilst tilting his head to the side in a mocking matter at how helpless you looked before him. “Want me to take care of your achy little pussy, baby? Been dreamin’ about that, huh? Someone to satisfy your drippy cunt?”

For once in your life, the Devil on your shoulder won.

Erotic whines decorated your pouting lips like a prayer, along with a string of ‘please’s as your blown out pupils searched his in desperation.

“Shh, I know, baby. I know.” He whispered, lowering himself to the ground at your feet; knees making contact with uneven patches of grass. He painted your inner thighs with open-mouthed kisses whilst massaging the debilitating muscles of your caves. “Such a polite little thing, aren’t you? Using your manners to get me to fuck this tight pussy.”

“Gonna let Eddie make you feel all better?” His words barley registered to you in that moment. His name was so soft, so delicate when it rolled off his tongue. You nodded swiftly, babbling incoherent ‘yes’s over and over.

Pleased, Eddie occupied his left hand with carelessly bunching up your skirt into his fist, his other gently ghosting over the wet spot on your cotton panties with the knuckle of his index finger; your body involuntarily bucking into his touch.

Hooking a finger under one side of the flimsy material, he slowly drew the fabric down the extent of your legs; stepping out of them entirely to allow Eddie to discreetly stuff them into the back pocket of his distressed jeans.

Your folds glistened from the moonlight and constellations of beaming stars, pathetically clenching around nothing. “Oh, honey, we gotta stretch your sloppy cunt out first or my cock won’t fit.” Eddie spoke in an artificial concerning tone, his middle finger tracing along your entrance; plunging the pad of his digit in ever so slightly before continuing his pattern—your body writhing under his strong hold from his miserable teasing.

Leaning your back up against the sturdy tree behind you, Eddie lifted one of your legs over his shoulder as he inserted both his middle and ring finger into your drenched hole; your fists immediately collecting his tangled mane of lengthy curls in your grasp.

An assembly of pornographic moans escaped the depths of your throat as his lips sealed around your sensitive bundle of nerves, Eddie groaning into your intimate anatomy as you tugged at his hair encouragingly; attempting to bring his mouth closer than humanly possible.

With your climax approaching briskly, your hips continued to grinde rhythmically against Eddie’s tongue; movements becoming sloppy as the pressure in your tummy grew tighter and tighter until it finally snapped—overcome with ecstasy as his large fingers persistently worked you through your first orgasm.

“So pretty f’me, coming ‘round my fingers.” Eddie cooed, removing them from inside you to stand to his feet once more. He shoved his fingers coated in your juices into your awaiting mouth, helplessly drooling all over his shiny rings. “Think you’re nice and ready for me, honey? Gonna let me strip this pretty pussy of it’s innocence?”

“S’nothing to be ‘fraid of, sweetheart. I’ll fill you up so good, ruin you so no mere mortal would ever be capable of satisfying you the way I can.” He continued, cock twitching from how your heartbeat stuttered at his words; your lewd whimpers muffled by his fingers that he removed from your mouth with a pop. “S’that what you want, me to ruin you?”

“M’yours.” You mewled, staring up at him with glazed over doe eyes that were so virtuous, he nearly came in his pants.

“Yeah, baby? Wanna be my obedient little fucktoy? All mine to corrupt and play with whenever I want?” Eddie panted heavily against your parted lips, unbuckling his belt that was secured at his waist, slipping both his boxers and jeans down instantly; painfully erected member slapping up against his happy trail.

Swallowing each other’s vulgar noises when Eddie slipped himself into your fluttering pussy, securing one of your legs around his torso and giving you very little time to adjust to his girth before pounding into you at a merciless speed. “Stranglin’ my dick so good, sweetheart. Fuck.”

“Such an innocent little angel, act so perfect and pure that no one would ever suspect she’s actually just a greedy cockslut who needs her messy cunt fucked.” His voice was rasping, vibrating through the extent of your body as he nipped at your earlobe.

“Shit, got me feeling like a teenager again. Best pussy I’ve ever had, s’like she was made for me.” His thrusts were becoming irregularly paced and sloppy, chasing your shared climax; his thumb lazily rubbing your clit that heartened firework sparks to set off in your cerebrum. “Gonna let me fill you up, baby? Gonna let me cum ‘side this tight cunt?”

“Oh, Eddie!” Your second orgasm of the night crashed down on you like a title wave, head falling back against the bark of the tree trunk as you swore the Earth stopped orbiting for a few minutes. He finished shortly behind you, vision clouded in absolute euphoria as his load painted your walls.

“So good for me,” Eddie’s pale lips warped into a twisted smirk against the skin of your neck once you came back down to reality, your brain still foggy. The slight pressure of his razor-sharp teeth grazing your jugular unleashed a faint gasp from the depths of your throat, grasp tightening around his shoulders as he inhaled your enticing scent. “but m’not quite finished with you yet, sweetness.”

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[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

Note: request by a lovely anon! Thank you so much. I was planning on making this super angsty, but somewhere along writing today my mood changed and yeah. It turned out to be this. I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: briefly suggestive, mention of blood and violence.

pairing: Sihtric x you (f)

Summary: Your husband had sent you to a nunnery many years ago, after he wrongly accused you of committing adultery. Not much later your husband died of a sickness, and you had nowhere to go, so always remained at the nunnery, being well respected amongst the nuns. However, your life as a nun was rather mundane, until a handsome Dane came looking for shelter.

Word count: 4,6k 

Masterlist

The battle at the convent.

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

It was wrong. Sihtric knew that what he was doing was wrong. He already knew before he decided to do it, and he knew after he did it anyway. 

But while Sihtric did it, he didn't care. Because he loved how it felt, and he loved how wrong it was.

He loved the feeling of your nails raking over his bare back, and he loved the sound of the wooden pallets that made for your bed, creaking under pressure each time he slammed into you. But more than anything, he loved the way you cursed. Using your nailed god's name in vain as you begged him for more. You begged Sihtric to go harder, deeper, faster and wilder as you laid on your back, tunic hiked up to your waist with Sihtric's body between your thighs. The wind outside rattled the barricaded doors and windows with a violent force, covering up the Dane's heavy grunts and animal-like growls while he played with his prey, whom he had been hunting for two days already.

Two days ago Sihtric came knocking at the nunnery, as the wind had howled threateningly through the trees, gradually tearing more leaves and branches off their stems as the day went on, which had forced him to discontinue his travels to Bebbanburg. The abyss had welcomed him, for a storm was coming and the warrior needed shelter. 

The storm erupted later that night and continued in full force throughout the next few days. It was simply too dangerous for anyone to travel, so Sihtric was forced to stay longer than he had planned. But he didn't mind. Not after he saw you that first night, during dinner, which was also the first time you had laid eyes on him.

He was unlike any man you had ever seen. Your late husband was small, and timid, and had claimed to be of royal descent, so he was always dressed in fancy tunics and cloaks, always clean shaven and always stern looking, without any emotion.

The Dane was the complete opposite; he was tall, lean and rugged looking. His mismatched eyes were accompanied by his sharp face features, which were graced with a few scars and he had dark, well kept facial hair. His shoulder length mane was equally as dark and was, as the wind had rushed through it for hours on end, wild looking and messy. His clothes, a dark fur tunic held by a black leather belt, on which a knife and small axe were secured, were clean and showed he was wealthy, but not in a boasting manner, unlike your late husband.

You weren't the only lady who had taken interest in the mysterious man who came looking for shelter. Ever since he arrived, the hallways had been filled with giggles and whispers by your fellow nuns whenever he was seen. Soon his name travelled through the halls and everyone knew who he was, which did not help calm the other nuns down, as they were desperate to get to know him, just like you were.

But you were the only one who Sihtric had taken interest in, after you had caught his eye as you served him ale the first night. He had thanked you with a smile and his eyes had followed you around ever since. And when you topped up his ale the second time that evening, and handed him his jug, he brushed his tattooed fingers over yours as he took the drink from you. Sihtric thanked you again, but this time not with a smile, he thanked you with a wink as he bit down on his lip.

He somehow sensed you weren't raised in the nunnery, unlike all the other ladies in the room, because you didn't shy away from his gaze whenever you locked eyes, and you didn't blush when you got near him. Instead, he saw something in your eyes that told him you wanted to be chased after by him, because you longed for a feeling which none of the other nuns had ever experienced. And Sihtric loved a good chase if it meant he would get to claim his price; you.

To make himself useful, and to thank the abyss for letting him stay, Sihtric helped out with some heavier tasks around the nunnery and made sure that whatever he did, was where you were at too. You knew he had been eyeing you up all day, and he knew you had done the same, especially when he had rolled up his sleeves.

During dinner, that second day, you once again poured him some ale, but before you could walk away, he finally spoke more words to you than just his regular 'thank you, lady.'

'The storm is not slowing down,' Sihtric said.

'It seems not,' you agreed.

'I heard the wind destroyed a few barricades from the windows during the day,' Sihtric said, soft enough so only you could hear, 'is your room still safe?'

'It was when I left it, yes.'

You stared at each other, patiently but hungry. And Sihtric didn't continue the conversation, he was waiting for you to make the next move, he liked to be lured in before he would attack.

'Would you mind coming over, after dinner, to make sure my windows are barricaded well enough? My room is the last, on the left.'

Sihtric gave you a sly smile and a curt nod before he sipped from his cup. And with that answer you went on about your evening as usual, making sure the other nuns did their duties, before you went to your room. And it wasn't much later until Sihtric had knocked on your door and you had pulled him in your room by his leather belt. 

If you weren't a nun, Sihtric would have liked to marry you, but he knew that wasn't possible as he suspected you had chosen this life. He didn't know you were merely living there because you had no other place to go, and that you didn't even have much faith in your god. But regardless, Sihtric simply wanted to enjoy his time with you. And just like him, you knew it had been wrong to hump like wild beasts inside the nunnery, but just like him, you loved how it felt and how wrong it was. You would deal with the consequences later, if any would ever come. 

And those consequences came knocking eventually. But it would be weeks after Sihtric had knocked on your door that night, and had given you the best hump of your life before he had to continue his journey the next day.

It seemed as if the storm had reached its peak shortly after you and Sihtric reached your own. Your walls had clenched Sihtric's cock as he slammed into you, with just as much force as the wind outside had slammed against the outer walls of the nunnery, and your orgasms were as loud as the wind that howled through the cracked barricades.

And still, no one had heard a thing, and no one had seen Sihtric leave your chamber, with his hair wilder, his eyes darker, and his smile cheekier than it had been before. And no one had seen the bruises on your body, which Sihtric had left with his hands, lips and teeth, as the next day you were simply back to being a fully covered up, sex deprived nun. 

Before Sihtric had left your room that night, you had asked him where he was going, and if he would ever stop by again. He told you he was on his way to Bebbanburg, as a war was approaching, and he told you that if he would still be alive after the battle, he would stop by, but he could not promise you would ever see him again. And after that grim truth, he had kissed you. Lovingly, slowly and passionately. And he told you that whatever would happen, he would never forget about you. 

And you knew you would never forget the Dane either, when you watched how he galloped away on his horse the next morning. You just didn't know yet that you would never forget him, because he had made you pregnant.

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

Once your baby bump started to show, all the nuns, including the abyss herself, turned on you. They had all desired Sihtric. Whether it had been for a hump, a simple kiss from his lips or a brush of his rough hands against their untouched skin, each and every nun had longed for him. No man had set foot in the nunnery after Sihtric, or long before him.

But you never admitted to anyone the unholy things Sihtric had made you scream out that night. Or the sins you had committed with him in your bed. And on your table, and on the floor… before he had you pushed back against the wall, with your legs around his waist, his strong arms holding you up while his muscular body grinded against you with each hard thrust. But your fellow nuns all found it hard to believe you had gotten pregnant like the virgin Mary herself, after a man, who was a dangerously handsome Dane, had stayed over for a few nights, several months ago.

'You are a disgrace,' the abyss spat when you couldn't hide your pregnancy anymore, 'you welcomed the devil in your bed and you will be treated accordingly.'

From then on, you were no longer a respected nun, no, you were the nun who had taken away the chances for everyone else to have a good night, although they would never admit that. In the following months you would be looked down at, spat upon and laughed at as you struggled to perform the duties you were burdened with; the heavy labour Sihtric had done, as it was not suitable for one woman alone. You thought nuns were supposed to be angels on earth, but they weren't. They were the devil. And not like the devil you had welcomed in your bed, for you had loved him. 

You prayed as your pregnancy progressed. You prayed to your god for mercy, for safety, for peace. And you prayed for Sihtric, may he survive whichever battle he was fighting at the same time you fought your own battle at the nunnery.

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

You eventually gave birth to, miraculously, a healthy boy. Your body was hurting, bruised and felt broken, and you were surprised you lived to see another day. The nuns took care of your boy, but they couldn't be bothered about you. So you prayed, again. You prayed that Sihtric had survived the battle, which had to be long over by now as you had heard rumours of the battle of Bebbanburg, and how it had been won. You prayed that Sihtric would come see you again, and maybe even save you. You prayed every day. But not to the nailed god anymore. No, you prayed to the old gods. The real gods. The gods Sihtric had told you about briefly when he had held you in his arms, before he got dressed and left your chamber that night. You had played with the pendant around his neck, and he told you how it gives him strength and courage. And Sihtric had given you that pendant, before he kissed you goodbye, because he somehow knew you would need it, and it had been hidden underneath your tunic ever since. 

And Sihtric had been right; you had needed it. He just didn't know what for.

And you prayed, day and night, for two and a half years.

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

The aftermath of the battle of Bebbanburg had been rough. Lord Uhtred, who Sihtric was loyal to, was severely injured and Sihtric had stayed by his side until he recovered, which already took months. After that, Sihtric helped rebuild Bebbanburg and the surrounding villages, while travelling back and forth between Dunholm, of which he was lord. 

With each travel, Sihtric passed by the route that would take him to the nunnery, and he always glanced back to the steep turn uphill as he rode by. But he figured you had long forgotten about him, and he had more urgent matters than to go see a beautiful nun, who occupied his mind day and night, so he never found the strength to spur his horse in your direction.

Until two and a half years later. 

Life had gone back to normal, more or less. There had been no more battles, which did make him a little bored and empty inside. But Bebbanburg was safe, Dunholm was safe, his friends were alive and healthy and everything was as it should be. So one day, when he was on his way back to Dunholm, he crossed the path again which had led to you, many moons ago, and he suddenly pulled the reins and spurred his horse uphill. Maybe it was out of curiosity that he made the rash decision, maybe it was his boredom looking for an adventure, or maybe it was fate that steered him your way, he didn't know.

Sihtric jumped off his horse and walked up the building, which still looked exactly the same, and he smiled upon seeing it, for you had been on his mind ever since he first saw you, and the thought of seeing you again actually made him nervous as he closed in on the nunnery. He knew he was most likely about to get his heart broken, for the abyss would tell him you had left, or maybe you simply wouldn't remember him, or worse, maybe you had died. All these possibilities ran through his mind as he ran his hands through his long, messy hair, the same as it was when you had first seen him, before he knocked the large wooden door.

He was once again welcomed by the same abyss, and soon, all the same nuns swarmed around his table as he sipped from his ale, telling him stories and asking what he had been up to. His eyes darted over all the faces the entire time. And all were there, except for you. Sihtric asked your whereabouts, to which the happy chatter and giggles died down. But no one answered. Sihtric frowned and asked again.

'Is she still here?'

'She is,' the abyss snarled.

'Where? I wish to see her.'

'You will find her outside, with the pigs. Where she belongs.'

Sihtric was confused by that remark, but got up and made his way outside. As he walked around the building he was surprised to run into a young boy. Or rather, a young boy ran into him, as the child swung a large stick around with fury and didn't see where he was going, and collided with Sihtric's legs. The boy stumbled backwards and looked up with big eyes at the man who towered over him while he was on his back. Sihtric chuckled and tilted his head at the sight of the boy. 

'Aren't you a handsome guy?' Sihtric joked and picked the kid up in his arms. 

Sihtric studied the young boy and he smiled, to which Sihtric smiled back, as the boy somehow reminded him of himself. And he wondered where the child came from. He found it rather peculiar because the nuns, who wouldn't stop talking when he sipped his ale and looked for you, kept telling him how there hadn't been a man near the nunnery ever since his last visit. And with that thought, and the sudden glimpse he got of his mjölnir pendant around the boy's neck, he nearly dropped the kid as he stopped dead in his tracks. Sihtric turned his face towards the child in his arms, and stared at him with big eyes. And when the child gave him the exact same wide-eyed look, Sihtric blinked rapidly. So did the kid.

'By Odin's beard,' Sihtric muttered.

'Daddy!' the child suddenly screamed in his face. 

The young boy, never having seen another man before, figured that the first man he ever saw was probably his father. The kid just had no idea that he was actually right.

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

You heard your son shout a word you hadn't heard him scream yet. You had told him about his father, but the boy had never said that word again after that talk, as he had no reason to say it. More alarmed by the fact that your child suddenly screamed, rather than by what he screamed, you came running around the corner, where you saw a man, who had his back turned to you, holding your child in his arms.

'Let go of my son!' you shrieked as you ran towards the man and you started to beat the stranger with the empty bucket you had just used to feed the pigs.

Sihtric groaned when he suddenly felt a hard blow against his back, and quickly took a few steps back as he protected the child in his arms from the sudden attack.

'Lady!' he hissed, before he recognised you. And you dropped the bucket midswing when you recognised Sihtric.

'You… you,' you stammered, 'you came back.'

'I did,' Sihtric said, equally as stunned by your beauty as the first time he saw you.

'I prayed… for years. For two years,' you started to cry, 'for you to come back.'

'I'm sorry it took me so long,' Sihtric stepped closer, 'the battle had been rough, the aftermath was rough. I feared you had forgotten about me so I… I just passed the route again, and like all the other times I thought of you. I always thought of you, every day. Every night,' he chuckled as his eyes teared up, 'but it wasn't until today something pulled me here. I had to… I had to stop by… to see you and… but… then… and,' Sihtric's eyes darted between you and the boy in his arms with a questioning look.

'Yes,' you nodded fast as tears rolled down, 'yes, Sihtric, he is yours. He is our son. And it's… it's his … his birthday.'

Sihtric took a few steps back and looked as if he was going to pass out. He also felt as if he was going to pass out so he quickly kneeled down and rested upon his hands and knees. Your son ran over to you once his feet had ground underneath them, and when Sihtric heard the boy yell 'daddy!' again, he watched the ground underneath his hands close in on him rapidly and he heard a thump before everything turned black.

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

The other nuns had seen Sihtric pass out and came running. A weak fight broke out between you and some of the nuns, while a few others tried to take your son, and again some other nuns tugged Sihtric's leg, hoping they could drag him inside to take care of him, but he was heavier than they anticipated. They had never seen all those muscles Sihtric kept hidden under his tunic, but you remember the comfortable weight of his body all too well.

Sihtric regained consciousness after a few minutes and woke up, dizzy, to the sound of screaming women. After a short moment he remembered where he was and what had happened and when he turned his face, smudged with dirt and grass, to the side, he saw how almost every nun was harassing you as they dragged your son out of your arms. His son. Sihtric got up, albeit a little wobbly, and unsheathed his knife. He guessed it was unlikely he would need it, but he had a family to protect now and would not hesitate to cut a nun.

'Hey!' Sihtric growled, 'get away from my son!' 

The nuns were startled at the sound and sight of the handsome, yet savage, looking man.

'Give me my son!' he shouted as the abyss picked up the boy and took a step back, holding her silver cross up to Sihtric as if it would protect her. But the Devil is not afraid of some silver.

'I merely wish to leave with my son!' Sihtric continued, 'and with my lady!' he glanced at you.

You were kneeled down in a puddle of mudd, with a cut lip and a busted eyebrow, as tears ran down your face. Sihtric held his knife out to the ladies of God as he walked over to you and he pulled you up on your feet, gently shoving you behind his back.

'Are you okay?' he asked, never taking his eyes off his son, held by the abyss.

'I'm okay,' you sniffled and held onto his arm, 'they… they will not let you leave with us.'

'What do you mean?'

'They believe Cynlaef, our boy, is a gift from God.'

'No child of mine will ever be a gift of their false god,' Sihtric hissed as he stared at the nuns. 

'They wish to keep him,' you continued, 'they took him from me after birth. All they have done after you left has been to punish me. They will allow me near him and he- he knows I am his mother, but I barely get to raise him. They will not let you leave, Sihtric, not with him. Or with me.'

'The hags will have to pull you and my son out of my dead arms if they wish to keep you,' Sihtric said for only you to hear, then raised his voice, 'I will not ask again!'

'I cannot allow you to leave with the boy!' the abyss yelled, 'we have no evidence you are the father!'

The abyss knew she was talking nonsense, for it was clear Sihtric was the father, as the boy was his spitting image, complete with mismatched eyes. But she knew if they held the child at the nunnery, Sihtric would return again. Maybe enjoy himself a few more nights again, not with you ofcourse, you didn't even have a bed anymore inside those walls, you slept outside in the shed. With the pigs.

'You told me no man had set foot near this place!' Sihtric snarled, 'what more evidence do you need?'

'The whore has never admitted to sleeping with you!' one nun yelled, but neither you nor Sihtric could see which one it was.

'Then I will admit to it!' Sihtric said as he took a step closer, to which all the nuns took a step back at the same time, almost like a shield wall, Sihtric thought. 

'You will not get this child,' the abyss hissed, 'over my dead body!'

'Then so be it,' Sihtric huffed and stormed at the holy shield wall. 

The abyss let out a shriek and started to run with the boy in her arms. You watched how Sihtric quickly, and without effort really, closed in on her, and somewhat tackled her as he pulled your son out of her arms. The abyss fell face flat on the grass, Sihtric held out his knife again to each nun who tried to approach as he held his son in his other arm. Sihtric looked at you and beckoned you over. As you neared your two beautiful men, one nun tried to punch you, but Sihtric was quick to throw his knife, which landed right in the palm of the nun's hand, and she screamed out in pain as blood gushed out of her hand, staining her white tunic.

Sihtric grabbed your hand once you were close enough, handed you the boy and stepped in front of you again. His knife was still stuck in the nun's hand, so he took out his axe.

'Sihtric,' you said nervously, holding onto his arm again, 'you can't just murder an entire nunnery.'

'I can,' Sihtric hissed, 'and I will if it's our only way out. I have won greater battles.'

And you can't remember exactly what happened, as it had been overwhelming. But you remember how a handful of nuns came running your way, and how Sihtric had killed three of them while two others tried to pull your son away, but you had scratched at their eyes, hard, and they were blinded by their own blood. You remember hearing how Sihtric grunted when a nun started to pull his hair, and how Sihtric snarled that that was exactly why he always had braids when he went to battle, just before he hacked his axe in the nun's skull. You remember shielding your son against all the horror that occurred at the nunnery that day, while Sihtric punched, sliced and kicked his way through the remaining nuns, but you didn't see that anymore, because you had turned your back and hid your son in the stable's haystacks. 

You remember seeing the man, who had made hard love to you one night and given you the sweetest child to ever exist, walk back up to you while he was covered in blood and breathing heavily. And you saw how the previously green grass had been dyed red, just before the man grabbed your face, shoved you against the outer stable wall, and kissed you as if it was the last thing he would ever do. And if it wasn't for your son, who had found his way out of the haystacks, you would have gotten pregnant again right there, outside the stables. 

'Sihtric, you have to clean yourself up,' you said as you held your son back from his father, realising how stupid it sounded because you were stained with blood too, after Sihtric had kissed you with such lust and passion. But he agreed, and quickly rid his hair, face, neck and hands of the red liquid that wasn't his own with some water. And when he came back, he cupped his hands to help you up on his horse, picked up your son, who you placed in front of you, and then Sihtric, the man who had been on your mind for over two years, climbed in the saddle behind you and spurred his horse to walk.

'What happens now?' you asked after a short while.

'Now? I take you with me to Dunholm,' Sihtric said as he let the reins go with one hand to circle his arm around your waist, 'and I will marry you. And we will raise our son. And we will have more children,' he chuckled before he kissed your cheek, 'and I promise we will raise them together.'

'What about the… the slaughter?'

'What about it?'

'What if someone finds out? What if they come after my… our son again?'

'No one will find out,' he shrugged, 'and if someone will, they will know what happened and why. And they will know better than to try and take my son and my wife away from me.'

'Your wife?'

'Lady,' Sihtric chuckled, 'in my mind I had already married you that first night I saw you.'

You shifted slightly so you could look at him, and Sihtric wasted no time to capture your lips with his, and you knew trouble was ahead if this is the way he would always kiss you. Because you were ready to pull Sihtric off his horse, have your son seated somewhere safe, and let the handsome Dane take you as he pleased up against a tree. But, you were a responsible mom, so you reluctantly broke the kiss and told him to behave. To which he smirked and said he wasn't familiar with that English word. And that's also when you knew your son would become a handful as he got older. But you didn't mind. 

You were just happy that the man you had fallen in love with years ago came back for you, and was more than happy to be a father to his child. 

And Sihtric promised you the world, a promise he already fulfilled when he married you not much later. Because Sihtric was your world, along with your son. And in the years to come, you would become a happy, big and loving family. 

And no one, except for you and Sihtric, would ever know exactly what happened that day at the nunnery, which folks now called "the battle at the convent", which was simply a tale of love, lust and blood.

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

taglist: @clairacassidy @finanmoghra @uunotheangel @hb8301 @bathedinheat @neonhairspray @anaeve @bubblyabs @travelingmypassion @sylas-the-grim @heimtathurs @bubbles-for-all-of-us @andakth @chompchompluke @willowbrookesblog @lady-targaryens-world @skyofficialxx

[DM to be added to/removed from taglist! & don’t be shy to like, reblog & comment!🖤]

#sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #the last kingdom fic #sihtric kjartansson #the last kingdom #sihtric #sihtric fic #tlk

[captainmalewriter]

Hey I would like to claim the white with orange ring capsule if it is still available? Like to see what is inside.

Congratulations, you found my missing white with an orange ring capsule! Here's what happened when you found it...

You opened the door to your brother’s estate and stepped inside. Your brother and his wife were away on vacation for the week. Your brother had asked you to house-sit while they were away. Thankfully, you didn’t have to actually stay in the house all week long. All you had to do was swing by his place once a day to feed the cats, clean their litter boxes, and water the plants. Once that was done, you were free to continue going about your usual routine.

You finished your housekeeping duties for the last time. The week had gone by in a flash. Your brother was supposed to come back tomorrow. Although you were glad you didn’t have to house sit anymore, you couldn’t help but feel wistful. You weren’t sure exactly why you felt that way, but you did. 

You decided to take a look around your brother’s house before you left for the day. It had been a long time since you last visited him, and as a result, you couldn’t help but notice all the changes he made around the house. New wall decorations, new paint job in the bathroom, and a bunch of minor changes here and there. But while most of the changes were pretty ordinary, there was one particular change that caught your attention the most. 

You found it while looking around the garage. You didn’t mean to snoop around, but while poking around, you found a stainless steel box full of strange things. You figured a tiny peek inside wouldn’t hurt and took a look inside. You found a bunch of miscellaneous items that didn’t seem to have any correlation to one other. Most of them you couldn’t name! But there was one thing you could name: a toy capsule. It was white with an orange ring on it. You couldn’t help but take it out of the chest. You weren’t sure why your brother or your brother’s wife would keep a toy inside a box full of strange, witchcraft looking things. It was truly a mystery.

The more you thought about it, the more curious you grew about what was inside the capsule. Then, curiosity piqued, you decided to open it and see what was inside. You twisted the orange ring and opened the capsule. Inside there was a tiny metal rod! It was probably no larger than your pinkie finger. However, when you took it out, it immediately expanded until it was a foot long in length. On top of that, there was now an orange light shining at the tip of the rod! 

You were amazed at what you found. As you moved the rod around, the orange light shimmered and sparkled in the air. It was truly a magical sight that reminded you of magic wands. During that moment of excitement, you swirled the wand around pretending it was a real wand. You traced a circle in the air with the orange light with a swoosh. And as soon as you completed the circle, it happened…

You felt several cold shivers run up and down your body. You began to shake violently. Your body shook and shook until suddenly you felt as light as a feather. You felt yourself falling forward, and your skin also turned a translucent orange that matched the wand. It was an otherworldly feeling unlike any other, but before you could even get used to it, you were suddenly launched towards the east. You flew until you landed at your destination: your brother’s neighbor’s body.

“Hrm…… Ohh fuck…!” 

The man stood there, tending to his horse as he felt a sudden presence inside of his body. The foreign presence made his body sensitive, causing him to moan obscenely loud. That presence was you of course, taking over his body for yourself. You could feel as your life essence adjusted to its new vessel. The man was a rancher with a beefy body. You could feel how hairy your new body wasYour thick paws for hands ran through the hair on your body as you finished adjusting. You had officially become the rancher. 

You stood there slightly disoriented inside your new body. You felt the vertigo fading away, but then the body shivers came back again. Except this time, it wasn’t your life essence getting detached from your body. Rather, it was the rancher’s soul getting detached from your new body. You could see the soul standing right in front of you for a brief second before it was launched west— the same direction you came from.

“What the hell was that thing…” you said out loud with your new cowboy accent. You stood there wondering while you scratched your scruffy, thick beard. 

You then noticed there was an iron rod in your hand. There was an orange light glowing at the tip too. You closely examined the rod and found some small engravings on it. It said:

Wave this wand once, and you will swap with the closest same sex person…

Your souls will exchange vessels, but your mind will not transfer…

You will swap bodies, and therefore identities, so choose your vessel wisely…

You read it over and over again, but still had no idea what the fuck it was talking about. It sounded like some type of voodoo shit, something you wanted no part of. You worked hard to make a simple life with your husband, kids, and farm animals, and there was no way in hell you were about to let some stick take that away from you! You snapped the rod in half and tossed it in the same bin you shovel the horse shit into, sealing your fate forever. 

“Hey, I just put the kids to bed. What’s my wonderful hubby up to?” 

You turned your head and smiled as your husband walked up to you. He was a rancher with a bear bod just like you. He recently bought a new pair of blue jeans and a flannel shirt. They hugged his body just right, with the jeans in particular showing off just how hung your husband was with his large bulge. And the sight of it drove you crazy!

“Nothing babe, just throwin’ some trash I found in Missy’s stable,” you explained. 

Your husband smirked as he walked up right next to you. You grinned, then leaned in for a kiss. Your beards rubbed against each other as your lips interlocked with big, wet kisses. Your bodies grinded against each other as you both made out, moans and groans filled the air as you made out. His hand slithered down your back, then cupped your ass cheek with a loud smack. You meant to only give your husband a quick kiss, but it was clear y’all were about to do much more than that. Not that you minded it of course; after all, you were living the simple, family life out on a ranch with the man of your dreams, just like you always wanted.

Hope you enjoy the new body prize you won from finding my lost capsule!

#male body swap #male body switch #male body theft #magic tf #male takeover #cowboy tf #dad bod #toy capsule stories

[tulipsforvin]

I haven't seen you get any nsfw requests for louis so I hope this one is right up your alley: Louis with a mommy kink x fem reader who is 2-3 years older than him. dominant reader overstimulating the hell out of him to the point where he's panting, whimpering, and near deliriousness 🙏 I’ll leave the rest to you <3.

A/N: HELL YEAAHHH finally a smut request 🔥 Thank you so very much, anon! This is like the first time I've actually written smut l so do bear with me if it turns out shitty. Btw, this is post timeskip!

Also, guys, I have high fever and currently in the middle of my examinations so your requests will be uploaded at a slower pace. I'M SO VERY SORRY 💔

Format: Story Writing.

Tags: NSFW, Mommy Kink, Overstimulation.

Louis J Moriarty x FemDom!Reader

Despite the efforts of the overwhelmed police, an elusive killer remained at large, leaving the city of Victorian London in a state of perpetual unease and fear.

The lack of forensic techniques and investigative tools hindered the investigation, while sensationalized headlines fueled speculation about the killer's motives. The M16, who had been so diligently tailing the killer until tonight finally lost their ways — leading the killer's identity to forever be shrouded in mystery.

“Look at the mess you've made, Louis. Are you pleased with yourself?" (Name)'s voice is eerily calm and collected in stark contrast to the grip she has on Louis's figure below her, pressing on either sides of his esophagus.

Louis's head is against the pillows, hair in complete disarray and grunting quietly.

His breath catches in his throat, feeling his airway constrict and his eyes pool with unshed tears when he looks up at her.

God, he looks just so, so needy.

“Mommy, please-” His head tips back against the couch's armrest, a low groan escaping from the deepest parts of his throat when (Name) rolls her palm over Louis's cockhead for the umpth time; swollen and twitching.

“You're doing such a good job.” (Name) praises, voice sweet and soft, contrary to the post orgasm torture she was putting him through.

His legs tremble, making an effort to close them and hide his oversensitive cock.

Cum pools down his tip, dripping along (Name)'s fist as she gives the younger a man's cock a few more heart-achingly slow pumps.

“Ah! C-can't..not anymore..” Louis's voice comes out whiny and broken - making feeble attempts to push (Name)'s hand away. “There's nothing left to milk, please.”

(Name) laughs amusedly, swatting his hand away. “Hey, hey. I know you have it in you. One more. Give me one more and we're done for the night, 'kay?”

“Liar..” Louis sobs, gripping the sheets under him. But that's all he does. Nothing else to protest but lay there huffing and whining.

His head is spinning — stuck in a blur of too much lust, too much desire, too much of everything. How long had this been going on? Louis could not remember. Not while he being stuck in the looping daze of overwhelming ecstasy that he was in anyway. All he remembered was dismissing off your brilliant idea at the M16 meeting that he thought wouldn't be necessary and now London has a killer on the loose.

Anymore of (Name), anymore of those soft hands, anymore of that teasing glint in her eyes, anymore of—

Louis gasps sharply, back arching off the bed.

“Nnh! Oh.." Louis hisses. "God, (Name)..you're killing me.” His eyelids flutter in delight, feeling (Name)'s tongue giving his tip a teasing lick.

“It's too much, 's too much.” He blabbers, biting down hard on his quivering bottom lip.

He bucks his hips against her soft lips, trying to pry them open with his twitching cock.

“Come on, Louis.” (Name) peppers kisses down his length. “My beautiful, beautiful boy. Let me hear more of you - more of those pretty little noises. Come on.”

(Name)'s hand reaches upwards to stroke his cheek, the other one still stroking his cock.

“Haah...haah..” Tears pool down his cheeks, body and cheeks all flushed in delicious shades of pinks, reds and vermilions in embarassment. (Name) parts open her mouth into a small 'o' shape, devouring his shaft into her mouth.

She sucks in her cheeks, bobbing her head up and down his overstimulated cock, using her fist to pump up and down over the remaining length that couldn't fit.

Even though it's too much for Louis to handle, he pops up on his elbows - wanting to get a better view of (Name) going down on him. It's arousing; watching her swallow his cock whole with expertise. It's so arousing that he swears that he feels himself harden even further. Impossibly harder.

So, so hard that it almost pains his throbbing length and all he can do is beg (Name) to help him out. Loads after loads of cum drip down his cockhead like a fountain, allowing (Name) access to drive him towards the edge further.

“Mm?” (Name) hums, sending a vibration down his length and a shiver down his spine when he reaches down to grasp her hand.

“Please,” He begs. “Mommy, please. 's too much. Pleasepleaseplease.” He gasps, squirming and writhing under her. “Oh..!”

Louis's glossy eyes, hazed with lust shut tight. He swears he can see stars. He swears he can feel himself fall down a hole of ecstatic delirium. His heart thumps wildly in his chest.

Louis's ears are ringing, his lips parted ever so slightly. He hears his own whimpers and whines die down in the background. He feels (Name)'s strokes, tongue swirling in her mouth and against his cock slow in pace.

“Good boy. You did so good. You did wonderful.” (Name) rises from her position, finding a paper towel to spit his semen into and clean the both of them before gradually settling down besides him. Louis lays there, exhausted and panting — an arm shielding his face as he comes down from his high. “So, so good.”

He turns to his side, parallel to (Name) before dipping his face between the comfort of her chest and blabbering sweet nonsense to her.

(Name) hums softly in acknowledgement to his murmurs, stroking the back of his head as he falls into a deep slumber.

#louis james moriarty x y/n #mtp louis #louis james moriarty x you #louis james moriarty x reader #louis james moriarty #louis james moriarty x reader smut #louis james moriarty smut #moriarty the patriot smut #Yuukoku no Moriarty smut #serraphim #serraphim answers

[simpinghour]

Cake and Pears at 2am Hange x fem! reader

Summary: What is meant to be a casual night out to hang with Mikasa and friends leads you to meeting the very dapper, very suave even though they sometimes remind you of a golden retriever, Hange.

This was meant to be a mafia AU and there are light mentions of it but that's not the focus. Here you'll read about a fem!reader who is 14 years younger than a nonbinary Hange but doesnt let that stop her from dating them. 

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Nonbinary Hange, gothkasa, Strap on sex, loss of virginity with strap on, this is smutty as hell and I have no regrets, side Eruri, Side Eremika, Squirting, Oral Sex, Fingering, also side Mikenana, Yelena needs her ass kicked, age gap, but not a creepy age gap I promise, I had to do so much research about strap ons for this damn fic

Ao3 link 

Chapter 1

First you didn’t feel like going out. Then Mikasa wheedled until you gave in, and you asked what you should wear.

“Anything is fine. Wear your regular clothes.”

And that was how you ended up wearing an ankle length black linen dress, feeling completely out of place when turning up at Mikasa’s cousin’s bar.

The plan was to have a quick drink to start off the evening. How you ended up drinking by yourself was a mystery, but you suspected it was likely due to Mikasa getting in a quickie with her boyfriend and losing track of time.

I hope the dick is good because I’m going to kill you and Eren when you get here, you quickly texted Mikasa while trying to ignore the drunken man to your right doing the most to get your attention.

“Either drink this and stop harassing our guests or get the fuck out. Your choice,” you hear someone say.

You look up to find a guy with short dark hair and an undercut who eerily resembles Mikasa pushing a glass of water across the bar top while glaring at the man bothering you. A quick glance at the man shows that he looks as though he’d been scared sober, because he takes the water and scuttles in the other direction without another word.

“Tch. Asshole,” the guy says in disgust before he flicks a dishcloth at a spot of moisture on the bar. “You okay?” he asks.

“I’m good, thanks. I would be great if my friend Mikasa didn’t have me here waiting like an idiot.”

He scoffs again. “So you’re friends with my cousin. No doubt she’s glued to that idiot boyfriend of hers.”

“I’m guessing you don’t care much for Eren,” you reply, biting back a laugh.

“Hmm,” he grunts. “She could do better, but I guess she could also do worse.”

He doesn’t offer further commentary and moves to the other end of the bar. You go back to fiddling with your phone and sipping on your drink.

Ten minutes later you get hit on again, this time by a tall blonde who is admittedly attractive but too damn pushy for your tastes.

“Don’t be like that,” she says, reaching down to wrap long, rough fingers around your wrist.

The last thing you want to do is cause a scene; not only is this a club for members only, but everyone here is at least fifteen years older than you. On top of that, Mikasa vaguely mentioned something about her cousin’s bar being a mafia hang out, but she didn’t answer or give more details when you outright asked if her cousin was in the mafia.

As you think back to the way the guy harassing you earlier looked like he was going to wet himself when the dark-haired guy glared at him, you think the answer is yes.

“Yelena, leave the young lady alone before I have Levi ban your ass,” a raspy voice interrupts in a way that seems light yet has a casually threatening undertone.

The woman named Yelena takes her hand off you and you peer around her to find the owner of the voice.

You were aware that you were likely gawking, but you hadn’t expected to see a lithe brunet dressed in a three-piece suit that clung to them like a second skin. Their hair was sort of long but had been pulled up in a partial ponytail, and a few strands framing square-rimmed glasses and a pair of warm brown eyes were the second things you saw. The unamused expression on their face was the next.

“You and I both know why you’re acting like this,” they continue, staring unblinkingly at Yelena.

You know this person came to your defense, but you can’t help feeling intimidated. Then Yelena sighs dramatically and backs up a few steps.

“No harm done, Hange. It was just a bit of fun.”

“Bit of fun, my ass. You’re only here because we like Onyankopon. Now move along.”

Yelena stares hard while slinking away and the person called Hange leans against the bar to peer down at you.

“Sorry about that,” they apologize while sticking out a hand. “Hange Zoe. I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

“This is my first time,” you explain after giving your name and shaking their hand. “I’m supposed to be meeting some friends here but they’re extremely late.”

“Oh? Anyone I know?”

“Mikasa and her dumb boyfriend Eren. And I think our friend Armin if he’s not glued to his computer.”

“Ohh, you’re Mikasa’s friend. Levi told us some of you would be stopping by tonight.” Hange turned to look across the room and pointed to a table. “Wanna join us while you wait?”

You peer over to see a man with shaggy blond hair sitting there, engaged in conversation with another man who had neatly styled brighter blond hair as well as a stunning blonde woman with a short haircut that fits her face perfectly. Levi, who you learn is in fact Mikasa’s cousin when pointed out by Hange, is in the middle of sliding into the booth with the two men and a lady. They all seem equal parts classy but intimidating, and it immediately sets you on edge. They’re nothing like anyone you’ve been around before and you’re in fear of making some serious social faux pas.

“I don’t want to intrude,” you protest.

“You aren’t. Besides, it’ll piss off the blonde who just got grabby with you.”

“Okay, only if you don’t mind,” you agree, picking up your glass. “Who was that, an ex of yours?”

A wry look cross Hange’s face as they lead you across the bar.

“You could say that. Say, what is that you’re drinking? It looks tasty.”

“It’s called a Red Devil. Not everyone knows how to make it but this guy with brown hair knew what I was talking about. He made it perfectly too; some people use too much gin and it tastes disgusting like that.”

“If he had on a blue shirt that’s Moblit and yup, he makes the best drinks.”

When you and Hange reach the table they introduce you to everyone. Nanaba is friendly and Miche is polite but doesn’t seem like a big talker, although Erwin and Levi have plenty to say. Hange orders you another drink without you asking and you sit on the outside of the booth, sipping on your second Red Devil while wondering how the hell you ended up at the table of Mikasa’s cousin and his friends.

You guesstimate that the jacket alone to their suits is equal to the price of a month’s rent. And you don’t know much about watches, but you definitely know what a Rolex is and every person at the table except you is wearing one. Correction, Miche and Nanaba have on his and her Patek Philipe watches.

Eventually someone else equally well-dressed joins the table, the tall man with brown hair named Moblit who happens to be the person that made your drink.

“Are you and Hange going to drink one another under the table tonight?” Levi asks, and Hange grins broadly.

“No,” they laugh. “But now that I think about it, I could use a snack. Are there any olives in the back?”

“Yes, for the cocktails,” Levi hisses, looking scandalized as though Hange suggested snacking on earthworms.

“Actually, I bought a large bag of mixed olives because I know you like them,” Erwin interjects, ignoring the way Levi glares at him.

“I thought I was the only one who ate olives on their own,” you murmur, and Hange’s face lights up.

“I guess you’ll share with me, right? Hold on, I’ll be right back.”

“Hange, don’t you break my damn bar!” Levi yells over the booth as Hange hurries in the direction of a closed door. “And bring something to put them in!”

You’re wondering why Hange needs to be told to bring something for the olives, and bite back a laugh at the image of them eating olives right off the tabletop. Soon they return, arms laden with a small stack of bowls and the olives.

Erwin hadn’t been lying; the bag of mixed olives he bought was enormous. It easily rivaled the size of a food container one would find at a food co-op. Hange tries to cut it open with a pocketknife but with speed-lightning deftness, Levi reaches over and snatches it out their grasp.

“I’ve got it, before the whole fucking thing ends up all over the floor,” he grumbles, pulling out his own pocketknife from somewhere and neatly slitting open the bag.

“You are so weird,” Miche says, watching Hange pour a generous portion of olives into two paper bowls. They stab a toothpick into a green olive atop both mounds and push a bowl in your direction.

“See, Miche? I told you I wasn’t the only one who ate olives like this,” Hange tells him, brandishing a toothpick with a black olive on the end before popping it in their mouth.

The entire situation is laughable. The idea that the stunning human in a bespoke suit has the personality of a golden retriever yet can clearly switch to that of a guard dog with a killer bite is unfathomable. Either way, you’re having a good time and don’t think the night can get any stranger. But you’re soon proven wrong.

Miche excuses himself and as he crosses you to get out the booth, he pauses and loudly sniffs your hair. Hange explains that it’s a thing he does and he means no harm, but then he says your hair smells good. Nanaba says she noticed the same thing too, and then everyone else says they also agreed.

Everyone starts throwing out names of expensive parfums that would probably take you a month or more to save for if you wanted a bottle. You tell everyone that it’s not perfume you’re wearing, they’re smelling the hair oil you used on your ends. That prompts a conversation about your tight curls and you’re explaining that your hair tends to get dry and needs extra moisture when Mikasa finally shows up. Eren is behind her, trying to pretend that he isn’t hiding from Levi and failing miserably. Armin is also there and he’s smiling nervously. Mikasa looks confused when she sees you sitting with her cousin and his friends, but her expression barely gives away anything.

“Hey brat, why’d you make your friend wait all this time?” Levi asks her.

“Eren and I lost track of time,” Mikasa offers dismissively, sniffing as she looks away.

“Tch. I bet,” Levi scoffs, narrowing his eyes and the increasingly nervous Eren. Armin also looks anxious, but mostly because he likely feels like a third wheel knowing what his two best friends were doing that caused them to be late.

“I don’t want to keep you from your friends,” Hange tells you with a smile. “Thanks for keeping me company.”

You really don’t want to leave but know it would be rude to not join Mikasa and the others. So you thank Hange and everyone else and reluctantly leave their table.

You’re oddly quiet while sitting with your friends, yet they’re too busy quarrelling over something to notice. When you cast a surreptitious glance over at Hange, they’re laughing loudly at something while slapping Miche’s shoulder. You feel a stab of envy, wishing you were the one to make them laugh when they suddenly turn in your direction and wink at you. Before you can react, they’ve turned back to their friends and you’re left wondering if you imagined everything.

Eren and Armin go to fetch drinks and when they return, Armin hands you another Red Devil and a glass of water. You notice that everyone also has water along with their drink and Eren asks Mikasa why her cousin made him also take water. The answer comes in the form of Mikasa shooting Levi a nasty glare across the bar and he returns her look with an eerily similar one.

“He hates sloppy drunks,” Mikasa explains. “This is his way of telling us to have fun but not too much fun. I watched him make someone mop up their own puke before throwing them out on more than one occasion.”

“Your cousin is scary,” Armin says, warily eyeing his cocktail as though unsure if he should drink it.

You finish your Red Devil a little too fast and become the teeniest bit tipsy—okay, you’re drunk—and decide to wobble outside, in desperate need of fresh air. Just as you take a deep breath and close your eyes, you hear the door open and someone else walks outside.

“Needed a breather?” Hange asks with an unlit cigar held between their teeth. They reach into their pocket to pull out a box of wooden matches and some other metal tubular object on a ring. “It’s a hole punch for cigars,” they explain when they see you staring. “It gives a better flavor as you smoke opposed to completely cutting off the tip.”

“Yeah, I got a little hot in there,” you reply. “So are cigars good? I’ve never tried one.”

“The right cigar is very good,” Hange explains, taking the cigar from their mouth and punching a hole into the end. They put it back into their mouth and strike a match and you’re captivated by their long fingers cupping the flame while bringing it up to their cigar. A few twirls between two fingers ensures that its lit evenly and Hange takes a few pulls and exhales a grey cloud into the cool night air. “Darker cigars—maduro they’re called— have a smoother taste. A lot of people think the lighter ones do but those tend to be harsh on the throat.”

You’re really drunk and wonder if you’ll remember this impromptu lesson on cigars, but mostly you’re enthralled with watching Hange smoke while looking like the picture of ease in their vest, the other hand in their trouser pocket.

“Would you like to try it?” they ask suddenly, and you realize they’re smiling while holding it out to you.

“You don’t mind?”

“Nah,” they reply, nudging their hand again in your direction. “Go on. Don’t suck too hard though, it’ll taste awful if you do.”

You feel awkward as you take the cigar and try to ignore the sensation of Hange’s fingers brushing against yours. Without their jacket on you catch a whiff of their cologne; something sweet yet musky with a hint of wood and vanilla. It mingles perfectly with the cigar smoke and the aroma leaves you light-headed.

Okay, girl, you really need to calm down, you tell yourself, lifting the cigar to your lips.

Normally you’d be disgusted by the idea of putting your mouth on something that was just in the mouth of someone you barely knew, but you aren’t for some reason. The tip of the cigar is damp and you brush way the intrusive thought that this is an indirect kiss, but you take a soft pull as directed and are shocked to find that it indeed tastes good.

“Nice, right?” Hange asks when they see your eyebrows raised in surprise.

“It is, actually,” you admit, handing the cigar back to them. “It’s sort of chocolatey but earthy? Makes me think of a nice latte.”

“Yes! Some people do have cigars with coffee, as well as chocolate and some teas.”

“That sounds nice.”

“It is. If you ever want a recommendation, I’d be happy to help.”

Just as you’re about to say yes, the door opens and Mikasa sticks out her head.

“Oh, here you are,” she says. “Sasha just texted me to see if we wanted to meet up with her and Jean at the diner.”

“Did any of you drive here?” Hange asks.

Mikasa shakes her head. “We took an Uber.”

“Me too,” you chime in.

“All right. If you need help getting home let one of us know.”

**

The rest of the night is uneventful and boring compared to how it started. Mikasa had her limit of alcohol and used Eren’s shoulder as a pillow for an impromptu nap. Armin’s face is flushed and he keeps complaining that he’s hot and his hair is annoying him. You dig two satin scrunchies out your purse and put his hair into two tiny pigtails and he is visibly relieved. Armin keeps his pigtails in and when Mikasa finally wakes up, she asks Eren if she’s seeing things while staring at Armin.

“I got hot,” Armin replies without further explanation.

“And on that note, I think it’s time to go,” you tell your friends. “I’m going to say goodnight to Hange and your cousin and his friends,” you add, looking at Mikasa who is laying back on Eren’s shoulder. She nods and remains silent, clearly not giving a shit.

“We’re going to leave now but I wanted to thank you,” you tell Hange, who is sitting in the booth with Moblit. “Did everyone else leave?”

“Nanaba and Miche did, and Erwin and Levi are probably making sure things are tidied up before they close. You said you all came in an Uber, right?”

“Yeah, I’m going to order one in a minute.”

Hange reaches into their vest pocket and pulls out their phone. They tap at the screen a few times and then hand it to you. “Just put in wherever you want to go.”

You see that they’re booking an Uber pool for you in an SUV which you know costs a grip.

“I’ll pay you back,” you tell Hange, and they wave dismissively.

“No need. The only thing you need to do is make sure you all get home safely.”

Hange waits outside with you all and you’re disappointed when the driver arrives faster than you anticipated.

“It was really nice meeting you,” they tell you, taking your hand and stroking the top with their thumb. That small touch leaves you speechless and you want to say more but Mikasa is yelling for you to get in the damn truck.

“You too,” you tell Hange, flashing them a smile before getting in the truck and shutting the door. You watch their retreating figure out the window until you’re out of sight, and then you feel immense regret at not asking for their phone number.

Shit.

“You like Hange, don’t you?” Mikasa asks a week later when you two are having a girl’s night at her place, although her sentence sounds more like a statement.

“What makes you think that?” you ask, wondering how the hell you’ve been caught.

Mikasa shrugs, leaning in close to a mirror and relining her lower lids with a smudgy black eyeliner pencil. “It was obvious that night. Well, obvious to me that is.”

“How the hell could anything be obvious to you? You were two hours late!”

“I only needed ten minutes at most to figure out that you like Hange,” Mikasa continues, now working on the other eye. “You wouldn’t stop looking at them.”

“Well, they’re good-looking. So they are non-binary, right? I didn’t want to be rude and ask since I’d just met them but that’s the impression I got from listening to everyone else speak.”

“Yeah, they are.”

“Cool. There was a woman named Yelena there too. She’s Hange’s ex?”

“She is, that bitch. They broke up a few months ago because Yelena’s a conniving, manipulative asshole. Levi didn’t like her from the start. Although it’s not as if he likes many people from the start.”

“He’s probably good at sniffing out bullshit,” you tell Mikasa, thinking back to her stern-faced cousin.

“He is and it’s annoying at times. He’s rarely wrong though, not that I’d admit it to him. Anyway, should I ask Levi for Hange’s number so you can text them?”

“No! I can’t do that.”

Now Mikasa is lining her lips in black, and you see her eyeing you through the mirror.

“Why not?” she asked, leaning closer to perfect the sharp lines at her cupid’s bow.

“Because I… I don’t know.”

Mikasa sighs and turns around to face you. “Listen, I know you’ve always been too shy to flirt with someone who wasn’t a man, and I get it. Men are simple as shit and think a girl likes them if she blinks in his direction. But Hange isn’t some big bad wolf who’s going to attack you. You two can meet for coffee or something casual.”

You know that Mikasa is right, and there’s a stretch of silence before you speak again.

“Fine. Text your cousin. But if Hange isn’t interested, do me a favor and please don’t tell me.”

“You got it, you dramatic weirdo. Honestly, you’re weird and Hange is weirder. You two should get on like a house on fire.”

“That’s an awful analogy, Mikasa,” you groan, flopping over onto your other side. “Can you do my makeup when you’re done?”

The corner of Mikasa’s lip lifts slightly and you know your tactic to distract her was fruitful. For some reason, Mikasa loves putting eyeliner on all her friends. Eren fussed that it made his eyes itch, but Armin allowed Mikasa to do whatever she wanted. You also didn’t mind; you found that someone else doing your makeup was relaxing, and sometimes you fell asleep and let Mikasa do whatever she wanted.

“You’re actually going to let me do your entire face?”

“I’ll do whatever you want me to do, Yoda.”

“Ugh, like I said—weirdo.”

“Yeah, but you love me.”

“Sure. Now be quiet while I clean your skin.”

You’re lying flat on Mikasa’s bed while she swipes a cotton pad soaked with micellar water across your cheek when you speak again. “So what else do you know about Hange?”

“They’re older than us but you know that already. I think they’re forty? Something like that; I only remember because I know Levi is a few years older.”

“Wow, I figured they were a few years older than us. I didn’t think there was a fourteen-year difference.”

“Yeah. They’re also smart as hell. Two doctorates I think and run a lab. Also an adjunct professor if I remember correctly.”

“Well now I’m a little intimidated,” you admit quietly.

“I don’t know why. This is the same Hange who blew up hard-boiled eggs in the microwave at Levi and Erwin’s house because they forgot that you can’t microwave eggs.”

“Okay, that’s actually funny.”

“It is, but the runt didn’t think so. He cursed out Hange, made them scrub it twice and cursed them out some more when they didn’t clean it to his standards.”

You think back to Levi fussing about Hange spilling olive brine all over his bar and fight back a laugh.

“I had a good time with Hange and their friends until you and Eren came. They’re really funny.”

“Yeah, they’re cool. I’ve known most of them since I was a kid.”

Mikasa is now working on your eyeliner so you stay quiet so she can concentrate.

“Let’s go outside when I’m finished your makeup,” she says, using a short eyeshadow brush to buff out the pencil liner. “I need to smoke and I also got that wine you like.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” you reply with a tiny grin.

Twenty minutes later, you and Mikasa are out on her balcony that’s been decked in orange lights that were meant for Halloween but are year-round decorations for her. Mikasa brought out her phone and speaker and a darkwave mix is playing in the background while you two puff on cloves and sip wine.

“I texted Levi for Hange’s number, by the way,” Mikasa says casually, blowing a puff of smoke out into the night air. “No doubt he’s wrapped around uncle Erwin right now so his phone is probably turned off.”

“Shit, thanks Mikasa. Now I’m going to be a nervous wreck all night.”

“I have something stronger than cloves if you want. There’s edibles and gummies; pick your poison.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.”

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