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savemefromanepicoftimewasted · 4 months

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The Gang's All Here

Biker!John Price X Wife!Reader

It was adorable, you were the mom of the group when it came to everything, especially when they were on leave. You’d invite everyone over and feed them until they were all too full.

a/n:this fic was inspired by this GORGEOUS artwork by @yakowo and I could not get the idea out of my head, also for anyone who voted in favor for the tattoos? you're welcome (P.S. I'm so sorry for making you guys wait MONTHS for this!)

(These are the tattoos I picture John having!)

John wasn’t the type of person that you’d expect to come onto base riding a motorcycle, a Harley Davidson no less. So, when Soap and Gaz were outside cracking jokes together their jaws dropped as John parked the roaring beast. When the hell had he managed to find the time to ride? It felt like they’d been gone for the last year nonstop. Gaz had heard all about how much you missed John. It was adorable, you were the mom of the group when it came to everything, especially when they were on leave. You’d invite everyone over and feed them until they were all too full.

“Laswell approved the time off, we’re gonna get to spend Halloween with the missus this year.” Gaz was probably more excited than anyone.

It may have been due to the fact you were all planning on matching, Gaz had picked Simon’s name from the hat, while you and Johnny were going to be matching. John downright refused, saying he couldn’t trust the boys to pick his costume. He’d made you swear to secrecy, no one was allowed to know his costume until Halloween. You weren’t complaining though, not after he’d promised to let you help ‘grease him up’.

“Better not get too rowdy this year, lord knows Johnny nearly got arrested last time.” Of course that had been because someone had tried to roughly grab you when John was off getting you drinks.

The boys had always been quite protective of you, doing whatever they could to make sure you were safe and keep all the creeps away. You’d been married to their captain the entire time they’d all known one another, so you were the co-captain in their eyes. Johnny was definitely the most protective, he saw you as a little sister(even though you were older than him). Simon would simply glare at anyone who looked at you wrong, scaring them off before they could utter a single word. Gaz would throw down with anyone who dared utter a single bad thing about you, how dare you disrespect his co-captain!

“He said he’d be on his best behavior, something about not wanting to anger the missus this time.” You’d turned into a scolding mother when Johnny began to act out, it was hilarious to watch.

John had thrown you over his shoulder even while you were kicking and screaming to be put down so you could continue your scolding. Johnny learned that night not to piss you off lest he deal with your wrath for the rest of the night. It was a comical thing, knowing you could insight fear into a man who sees death for a living.

“Better not, she told me they’re doing matching costumes and I can’t risk her needin’ to get a costume last minute.” That wasn’t to say you wouldn’t be able to find something from your closet, but you’d planned this months prior.

“Simon and I are too, you’re gonna be the odd man out captain.” Gaz smirked over at the other man, noticing the way his brow raised slightly.

“You and Ghost are wearing matching costumes? How’d you convince him?” Simon wasn’t afraid to let loose and enjoy himself, but wearing a costume to match with Kyle? That was shocking.

“Said he wanted to wear something to help get some attention, can’t say much else.” Gaz was going to keep his lips sealed until halloween had arrived, it was going to be the surprise of the century.

John knew better than to try and pry, this was out of his hands and as long as you were happy, he was happy. His mind began to wander for a few seconds, what would the holidays be like when you had your own little tots running around. You’d probably dress them up into cute halloween costumes and take them trick or treating. It didn’t sound like such a horrible thing at the moment, seeing you take the little ones up to the doors to get candy you’d sneak for yourself. No, no thinking about things like that when you’re at work and have important things to do, like a mountain of paperwork.

“Keep an eye on things and make sure the new recruits aren’t acting like idiots, please.” John waited for Gaz to acknowledge his words before heading down to his office.

The picture from your wedding day was the only one he’d been willing to take to base with him, not wanting to risk the wrong person knowing about you. His wedding ring sat alongside his dog tags, resting against his chest every day. It was a reminder that no matter how stressful things could be, he would always go home to you at the end of the day. They weren’t due for another assignment until the end of November, mainly because Laswell needed more intel first. Maybe that was the only reason they were allowed the few weeks of leave that was granted. Oh well.

It was nearing seven at night by the time John realized he hadn’t so much as left his desk to get a drink or even a bite to eat. Shit, you were going to absolutely ream his ass when he got home and you found out. This wasn’t the first time, and absolutely wasn’t going to be the last that he’d completely forgotten about himself. Simon had given him hell from time to time, telling him he needed to eat before you showed up at the base yourself. It had only happened once, though that was more due to the fact he needed the paperwork he’d forgotten and not because he hadn’t left his desk for..ten hours.

Standing up and stretching his tired limbs he groaned at the exertion and cracking from his idle bones. Shit, he had definitely been sitting for too long if standing for a few seconds sent shivers down his spine almost instantly. Time to get something to eat and head home for the next few weeks. He’d barely made it out of his office before Johnny was running over with what could only be described as childlike glee.

“Captain! Was hopin’ I could catch you.” The plus side of working alongside Johnny was that he could get shit done when necessary, the downside is when he was excited the man could talk forever.

“Just grabbing a quick bite and heading out, have you got your leave papers yet?” John didn’t have much time to talk, not if he wanted to make it home before you were in bed already.

“Just this mornin’, I wanted to ask about the bike.” Johnny was nervous, given that the last time he’d seen one was nothing more than a quick glance on their last mission.

“What about it?” John turned into the cafeteria, grabbing a plastic wrapped sandwich that was most likely made that morning.

Johnny wrung his hands together nervously, if questioned he would vehemently deny that his palms had become sweaty when asking his higher-up about something as simple as a motorcycle. Maybe he could just ask you about it instead, surely John had told you some things here and there and you’d managed to pick up any information.

“I uhh, I was wondering where you got it, she’s a beaut.” There, he’d ripped off the bandaid and didn’t need to make this any harder than it needed to be.

“Found her through a seller, she was in pretty rough shape so I’ve been fixin’ her up on leaves.” The bike was John’s pride and joy, second of course to you, but he loved his harley in a different way.

“Oh! Okay, that’s cool.” Johnny nodded, keeping a slight distance between himself and his captain.

“Any reason you’re asking?” John grabbed a bottle of water before turning to sit down at one of the open tables.

Johnny felt his nerves skyrocket, how does one admit they’d always wanted to ride but were too afraid of nearly getting themselves killed? His mother had given him hell for it, saying he’d lose his life by being reckless. It had deterred the idea for years, but seeing so many bikes made him want to do it anyway.

“No reason, see you later cap.” Johnny nodded once before heading out of the room.

John wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t confused, it wasn’t often that people even saw him on the rumbling biped vehicle, but given the opportunity he always took it. Nothing more invigorating than feeling the wind whip around you, the sound of the bike echoing behind. You would beg John to take you for a ride constantly, especially on date night.

The recruits were quiet as they sat amongst themselves, discussing what their next drills would possibly be. It suddenly hit John how old he was, he’d been so used to making sure that everyone else was taken care of that he hadn’t taken the time to really look at life. You’d both discussed having children when the both of you were truly ready. If it came down that neither of you would truly be ready for a child, then neither of you would become parents. He’d just be the fun uncle that could send the kiddos home hyped up on sugar.

After he’d finished his sandwich and water it was time to head out. Any paperwork was sent off for review, and if it wasn’t up to Laswell’s standards she could wait until he was back. Getting home and relaxing for the rest of the night was high on his priority list at the moment. Maybe the two of you could order take out instead of cooking, maybe even a glass of wine to go along with it. You’d be dealing with everyone in a few days anyway, god where had the year gone that it was already Halloween again.

The sun was nearly gone by the time John had made it out of his office, grabbing the keys to his bike and heading towards the garage. Ghost’ voice was booming, words sharp as a whip towards whomever he was angry with. John sighed deeply before turning towards the shooting range, if it was a new recruit this could get ugly fast. And much to his annoyance it was not one, but four new recruits, each of them looked terrified as Simon nearly towered over them.

“Do you think this is a joke? Something to laugh about?!” Ghost was enraged, hands clenched into fists by his side.

“No sir.” They spoke in unison, each with their heads down, gazes locked on the floor.

“The next time you come in here thinkin’ you’re gonna play with the weapons, I will have you removed, permanently.” Ghost took gun safety quite seriously, one wrong move could end the lives of multiple people.

“Yes sir.” They all nodded, waiting for further instructions.

“Get out of my sight.” Ghost crossed his arms over his chest, waiting until they all scrambled away before turning to face John.

There were no words shared between the two men, neither of them needed to say anything to get their points across anyway. However, John wanted to make sure that Simon would be alright before leaving for the night.

“Still coming over for Halloween?” John was still curious on what Gaz had picked for the costumes, couldn’t be too bad.

“I promised your missus I would anyway.” No one on the task force could tell you no, it was adorable.

“I’ll see you then, make sure the recruits stay out of trouble.” John nodded at him, heading down to the garage so he could get home to you.

The night air was cold, bike rumbling beneath him as he wound his way along the roads that lead to your shared home. He’d sent a quick text to you before he left, telling you to order dinner so the two of you could relax together. Good food, a glass of wine, and the most amazing wife that he could ever ask for sounded like a perfect night to him. Now if he could ignore the clawing thoughts that came with work that would be even better. Laswell knew better than to call him unless it was an absolute emergency that he needed to attend to.

The light was on outside as he pulled into the driveway, parking the bike and waiting until it was settled to step off. The sound of music echoed through the partially opened window, the sound of your voice following along with the lyrics. John snickered to himself, it was definitely a song from your younger years, it was definitely a 90’s boyband. If you were letting loose, what would he walk into? Shaking off his shoulders he headed into the house, locking the door behind him before slipping off his boots.

“Baby!” You ran over, throwing your arms around his neck in a tight embrace.

“Hello to you too, having a party without me?” John’s arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush to his body.

“Never, can’t have a party without the man of the hour.” You pressed a light kiss to his lips, giggling as he tried to pull you back for more.

The two of you laughed happily, dancing together until the doorbell rang loudly, letting you know your dinner had arrived. You had mentioned a movie you’d wanted to see earlier that week, talking about how scary it was from your friends. John could handle some little movie no problem at all, everything about it was fake anyway.

“Alright, got our food, drinks, time to turn on the movie.” You wiggled into your seat, pressing play on the remote before digging in to your food.

The movie, for lack of a better word, was absolutely terrible. It was sort of a tradition in your home that during October you would watch corny horror movies whenever John was home. It was something you’d been adamant on, refusing to let the tradition die out. Of course you’d watch the classic horror movies to help break up the monotony of the bad ones. John had insisted you watch The Thing recently, until you remembered the kennel scene. Watching poor animals, even fake ones, get hurt always makes you upset.

“What do we watch next? We’ve got a few days before the party, and you don’t need to go back until after.” You popped a few pieces of popcorn into your mouth, chewing slowly so you didn’t get any kernels stuck between your teeth.

John pondered for a brief moment, he’d loved watching the classics, but maybe something new could be better? No, something from the 90’s maybe.

“What about Candyman?” It was one of your favorites, having grown up as a horror fan you clung onto the infamous movie.

“A man after my own heart.” You giggled and grabbed your remote to turn the movie on.

The only light in your living room, besides the TV of course, were the string lights you’d hung up in the middle of September. You’d claimed it would help give ambience to the movie watching experience, and John definitely had to admit that it had. It gave off an eerie vibe that he couldn’t quite place, but given that it was Halloween he wasn’t going to complain.

You could practically recite the movie, the way Tony Todd portrayed the character of Candyman so well never ceased to amaze you. You’d wanted to have a career in film making, but given that the industry was one of the hardest to get into, your dreams were crushed.

You wouldn’t have met John had you followed your dreams.

You hummed softly, it was true, had you followed your heart you would have never met your husband. Sure you probably would’ve met someone in Hollywood, but it wouldn’t have been the same.

“Wait, what are you wearing for Halloween?” You glanced over at your husband.

“I’ve got a pair of overalls I’m gonna grease up. Go dressed as a mechanic.” John was nothing short of efficient. He’d found them one day after going through his clothes and tossing out anything that was either too old, or had holes to be thrown away.

“Hmm, that works.” You turned and put your attention back onto the movie on your screen.

You and Johnny would be matching, while Simon and Kyle would technically be matching. It had started as a joke but after discussing it, you had all agreed and the plans were set in stone. The costumes arrived a few weeks after you’d ordered them, the boys all paying you back right away. John of course had no idea what you were wearing, and you weren’t going to tell him until the very night of. It was going to be quite the surprise, you couldn’t wait for him to see.

Halloween

You were pulling on your undergarments, not wanting to spoil any surprises your husband might find later before quickly pulling on your dress. You’d been tempted to order a wig to truly match but you didn’t want to risk it. Instead you fixed up your hair, placing the headband before pulling on a pair of pantyhose. After a quick glance in the mirror you were happy with your look, pulling on the shoes and heading down to the living room. The boys had all crammed into your home, each of them taking their respective costumes to go and change. John had run to the store to get one final bag of candy, promising he’d be back in time to head to the party.

Kyle walked out in his amazing glory, the fluffy coat showing off his amazing physique.

“I have to admit, you make an amazing Ken.” You snickered and twirled your finger, telling him to give you a full view.

The costume was perfect, down to the headband and sunglasses he’d managed to find last minute. It was the only thing missing out of his entire get up.

“What can I say? I was born to be a total stud.” He smirked before bursting into laughter, both of you righting yourselves as Johnny walked out.

“I forgot how much I hated wearing boots sometimes.” Johnny muttered to himself.

The two of you had dressed as Velma and Daphne, Johnny had offered to be Velma since he was already a natural brunette. You weren’t going to argue with the man, the dress gave your husband even easier access.

“If you can tuck the bottom of the sweater under itself, it’ll look better.” You walked over and helped him adjust the dark orange sweater, brushing down the fabric of his skirt.

“Bettah?” Johnny glanced at you, hoping you could head out soon.

“Much.” You smiled and stepped back from him.

Before any of you could say anything else Simon walked out of the guest bathroom, the hot pink outfit causing all of your jaws to drop open. How Kyle had convinced him to dress up as cowboy Barbie you weren’t entirely sure, but god did he look fantastic.

“I have to admit, you look fucking hot right now.” Your eyes were wide, hands reaching up to mess with the green scarf wrapped around your neck.

“Thanks, this is all Kyle’s idea.” Simon tossed his bag down beside the couch.

“I’m not complaining, those pants are doing so much for your ass right now.” Your cheeks heated up before you caught the way Johnny was also eyeing him. At least you weren’t alone.

The sound of the front door opening suddenly caught your attention, your husband made it home with a few minutes to spare. Such a procrastinator that one was, now you’d be rushing out the door to get to the party.

“Sorry! Nearly got into a fight with someone who almost hit me on the way home. I just need to get dressed.” John dropped the candy into the large bowl, turning to face the rest of you.

His eyes landed on Simon first, a slight brow raised before he saw Kyle, followed by Johnny, and then lastly you.

“Don’t tell me. Kyle and Simon are Barbie and Ken, and you two are Daphne and Velma?” John snickered as he slipped off his shoes quickly.

“Good job, now go get dressed so we can leave!” You all but pushed your husband towards your bedroom.

You could discuss the costumes later when you were actually where you needed to be for the night, right now was not the time. The plus side is that you were within walking distance of the party, the downside was that you were definitely going to be late.

“Jeez, your arms look even bigger.” Kyle blurted out as Simon flexed his arms. Johnny was practically drooling at the sight.

“Alright, you guys head outside and I’ll see what’s taking John so long.” You waited until they’d all left, mainly to make sure poor Johnny didn’t pass out.

Shaking your head you made your way down to your bedroom, pushing the door open slowly so you didn’t startle him.

“Hey hun, are you…” You trailed off as you saw your husband, the white tank top he’d dirtied and greased up showed off the sleeves of tattoos as well as his back piece beautifully.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, let’s go hun.” John spritzed a couple sprays of cologne before heading over to you.

You watched the way his muscles ripped beneath the fabric, eyes glancing down to his legs beneath the coveralls. The arms over his coveralls were wrapped around his waist, giving him the look of being an actual mechanic. Jesus you weren’t going to be able to keep your hands off of him at this rate.

“I’ll have to remember to have someone take a photo of us when we get there.” You grabbed your wristlet and headed out of the house with John.

The other three, that were locked in a heated discussion, all fell silent as they saw their captain in a tank top.

“Holy shit, you’re covered in tattoos?!” Kyle was floored, he’d recently found out his captain rode motorcycles, but seeing this? This was all new.

“Oh, yeah, I’ve had these for years.” John merely shrugged, wrapping an arm around your waist as you all made the short walk to Kate’s house.

The music was loud enough that you could hear it outside, but it was clear that everyone was still able to have conversations. Kyle, Simon, and Johnny all took off the moment you got inside with John, causing you to roll your eyes. You just wanted one photo to at least remember the night, the costumes looked so good too!

“I’ll make sure they take a photo before we head home tonight, promise.” John pressed a kiss to your hair, leading you further into the party.

“Thank you.” You smiled as you leaned against him, avoiding any of the grease that could ruin your dress.

The party was lively, everyone complimenting your costume as well as John’s even asking a few questions about his tattoos. John was proud of the work he’d had done, especially the back piece he’d sat through over five sessions for. You loved when John got the recognition he deserved. The man was downright gorgeous, and you were reveling in the fact that he’d chosen you out of everyone.

The hours flew by, the drinks flowing through your system before John cut you off. He wasn’t going to risk getting you drunk like last time. You’d taken photos with all of your friends, giggling at the couples costume that Farah and Alex had done. He’d dressed up as a dinosaur while she was dressed like a handler. Everyone took photos with John, claiming they wanted to show off the tattoos he had and see if they could get something half as good. You knew better, it was only because of how gorgeous your husband was. You weren’t blind, even in regular clothes John was the most attractive man you’d ever met.

“Hey, why don’t I take you home? It’s getting late anyway.” John could see the way your eyes were drooping closed, exhaustion seeping into your bones.

“We gotta round up the boys too.” You’d offered up the spare bedrooms so they didn’t have to worry about driving home so late at night.

“Already did, sweetheart, so let’s go.” John scooped you up into his arms, saying goodbyes to everyone before making your way out of the house.

Your eyes slowly slipped closed as you rested against his chest, your feet sore from standing in the kitten heels for the last five hours. John didn’t so much as complain as he carried you to your shared home, opening the door to let everyone inside. Johnny didn’t hesitate to rip off his boots, tossing them aside before ripping off the sweater. John raised a brow at the younger man, watching as he hurriedly picked up his discarded items.

“Sorry, sir.” Johnny wasn’t going to let them lie around, would never do so in someone else’s home, but getting to strip down was his only thought.

“Just clean up, that's all I ask.” John turned and headed up to your bedroom, laying you on the plush mattress before turning to change into his own pajamas.

Your soft snores filled the air, chest rising and falling slowly as you slept peacefully on your bed. John chuckled and finished getting changed, turning to help you out of your own clothes. His eyes widened as he realized you had gotten new lingerie, jaw dropping open. He’d talk to you about it tomorrow, right now you were exhausted and needed some sleep.

After grabbing one of his more oversized shirts he helped ease you into the fabric, pulling off your headband and setting everything onto the dresser. You hadn’t so much as flinched the entire time, assuring John that you were completely asleep. He headed down to the living room, making sure the other three were settled before turning off the lights. It was fun getting to see everyone dressed up, simply enjoying themselves with good company.

“Thank you, for being the best thing I could ever ask for.” John crawled into bed beside you, pulling you flush to his chest.

You murmured softly in your sleep, wrapping your arms around his waist. There were definitely some things that the two of you needed to talk about.

Those could wait, for now he would simply hold you and enjoy himself.

tagging: @gaylemonshark @thesinsoflust @dante-mightdie @mh073099

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loveelle · 1 year

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Last Night

Jim Halpert x Reader

A/N: Well, took me a bit longer than I thought it would but here it is! The fic yall voted on the last few weeks! Not entirely sure how I feel about it, bit back and forth for me, changed quite a few ideas from when I first decided I was going to write based on this song, but yeah! Let me know what you think!

This fic is based on the song Last Night (Beer Fear) by Lucy Spraggan so I suggest giving it a listen to!

WC: 4.2K

Master

A/N2: When you see “---” that means a time skip forward or backward depending on where you are in the fic, hopefully that makes sense!

---

Your head hurt.

Oh god, did your head hurt.

You hated being hungover. Last time you were hungover this bad, it was the night before your college graduation and you promised yourself the next day that you would never drink that much again. Obviously, last night you decided to break that promise.

Your situation only proved worse when the alarm next to the bed went off, signaling it was 8 am. You slap your hand against the table, looking for your phone, but instead you’re met with a bedside clock, finally stopping its ear torturing sound. You barely have time to sigh in relief before you struggle to take in your surroundings. Your head was still pounding and your eyes refused to open all the way but one thing was certain.

This was not your room.

This was not your house.

You woke up in someone else’s house.

First things first, check for your clothes. With a simple glance down, your heart sinks. Gone was your Halloween costume from the last night and in its place was a T-shirt that wasn’t yours and by the looks of it on you, belong to a man, as well as a pair of shorts also not belonging to you.

“Shiiiiiit.” You whisper to yourself only seconds before a knock comes at the door. You jump in place, clutching the blanket close to your body and ignoring the urge to throw up everything you ate yesterday. The door opens much too slowly for your liking before a very, very familiar head of shaggy brown hair appears and every muscle in your body relaxes.

Jim smiles sheepishly when he sees you in his bed. Your hair was a mess and you were wearing one of his old shirts from college. There was a ghost of your smile when you realize it was just Jim coming in that made him smile wide himself.

“Morning, sleepyhead.” He chuckles, handing you a glass of water and an aspirin. You don’t say anything as you take the pill and glass from him, gulping it down as fast as you can. “How do you feel?”

“I can taste colors.” You grumble, putting the glass next to Jim’s alarm clock. Jim laughs. He was unsure what exactly to say, although you were in the same position. You glance around the room, silently taking it all in and waiting for the pounding right behind your eyes to stop. “It’s Saturday, why is your alarm going off?” You finally say, meeting Jim’s eyes with a squint.

Jim’s brows raise comically as he nods. “I like to wake up at the same time.” He shrugs.

You shake your head. “You’re supposed to sleep in on the weekends.” Jim exhales a quietier laugh and you watch him rock on his heels, unable to look you in the eye anymore. You clear your throat, clutching the blanket a little tighter. “Uh, Jim?” He hums, leaning on the wall behind him. “Last night, did we… um…” you weren’t really sure you wanted to finish that sentence, but luckily you didn’t have to. Jim was quick to shake his head and you let out a huge sigh of relief. “Oh, thank god.” He quirks a brow and your eyes widen. “I didn’t mean like… just that, you know, I was drunk and you were drunk… and we’re coworkers… and friends?”

“It’s alright.” Jim’s posture relaxes and you feel your cheeks heat up a little at the prospect.

“Not that it would be a bad thing.” You quickly say before you can stop yourself, hating the fact your hangover hadn’t stopped you or said something less painfully stupid.

“I know.” You nod your head at Jim’s words, leaning back on his pillow and closing your eyes. Then it struck you; it wasn’t the words Jim said, but how he said them. It was almost like he knew what exactly you were talking about. Almost like he could read your mind, Jim chuckles. “You really don’t remember much of the party last night, do you?”

You shake your head, your breath stuck in your throat. “Was it bad?”

Jim tilts his head, thinking about yesterday before a smile crosses his face.

---

Last Night…

Jim walks into the office 15 minutes after the office’s costume party was supposed to start. He will never understand why Michael decided on a costume party at the beginning of April, but here he was. There was bad music playing from the office that Jim could hear the moment he stepped out of the elevator, widening his eyes momentarily before adjusting the taped black circles on his torso and pulling the door open.

“Jimbo!” Michael calls out before the door even closed behind Jim. Jim breathes out a laugh, putting his hands in his pockets. “Welcome to the party!”

“Hey Mike.” Michael throws his arm over Jim’s shoulders, struggling a bit with the height of his employee.

Michael leads Jim throughout the office, where he sees his coworkers in all in different costumes with drinks in their hands. Michael finally lets Jim go with a pat and push on the shoulder as Jim snags a drink on his way out of the conference room. He runs into Kelly and Ryan, Kelly sporting a costume that Jim didn’t realize was supposed to be Taylor Swift, and Ryan as a police officer. He was just about to answer Kelly’s question of how he was doing before he spots you, Phyllis, and Pam talking in the kitchen. He smiles to himself before heading your way, catching your attention out of the corner of your eye.

Pam catches your smile growing at the sight of Jim as she nudges your arm. “Will you just tell him you like him already.” She whispers to you despite the glass door separating the two of you. You smack her arm gently, sipping from the red cup in your hand.

“No.”

“Come on, Y/N! Tonight’s the night!” Pam keeps pushing, raising her brows at you multiple times.

Your mouth drops open from her antics. “Pamela Beasley, how drunk are you?” She rolls her eyes at you. “Phyllis, can you tell Pam to lay off?”

“Oh no, Y/N. I’m on her side. I mean, if I never made the first move on Bob, we wouldn’t be married.” She says before grabbing an extra drink and leaving you and Pam, heading towards the Annex where she knows her husband currently is waiting for her.

You tilt your head in defeat, unsure what you expected from seeking Phyllis’ help.

“Tell him.” Pam says seconds before Jim opens the door. Your eyes widen and you can’t help but take another large sip of your drink, knowing if you were going to have any chance of telling Jim you’re desperately in love with him, alcohol would be your best friend.

Pam not-so-sneakily steps away from you as Jim comes in front of you, matching your smile. You look him up and down before adjusting the black dot on Jim’s chest that had started to fall down. “Three-hole punch Jim? Bringing back a classic?”

“Oh absolutely, I put a lot of work in this costume,” Jim hides his smile behind his cup as he takes a drink. He looks you up and down as well, only he takes a bit longer as his brows draw together. “And you are…?”

You chuckle, looking down at the white shirt and pants and black shawl you were wearing. “I’m a penguin.”

A cute penguin, Jim says to himself and before he has the chance to compliment your costume in a way less exposing of his feelings, Michael comes tripping into the kitchen, holding a drink in his hand.

“Jiiiiim! Y/NNNNN!” He says, pointing at the two of you. You and Jim stare at him, neither of you saying anything as Michael pants heavily, his face red from the no doubt numerous drinks he’s already had. He just smiles, looking between you both before he turns around to leave and you can faintly hear the sound of him calling out Ryan’s name as the door closes.

Jim and you fall into a fit of laughter, unsure what exactly to do about your drunk boss. “Why did he get so much alcohol?” Jim asks, shaking his head.

You shrug and finish off the last bit in your cup. “I have no idea, but I am certainly not complaining.” You step to the right of Jim, filling up your cup with the bottles Michael put in the kitchen earlier. “Can we even have this much in the office?” You ask and take a long sip.

Jim watches you carefully as you toss your head back, effectively finishing off the drink you just poured before he gulped. “I uh… I don’t know.” He quiets for a second as you fill up your cup again. “Sure you don’t want to slow down there?” He chuckles, although he is a bit worried for you.

You shake your head and smile. “Nope.” You pop the ‘p’. “It’s a party, Jim. And I’m gonna enjoy it.” You stick your cup in the air and Jim cheers against your cup, both of you taking a sip and your eyes widen after yours, starting to feel a bit of a buzz.

“Alright, but I’m not helping with you if you’re hungover tomorrow.” He says as the two of you walk out of the kitchen, joining the rest of the party in the conference room.

---

“That doesn’t sound too bad, I remember most of that and even what Pam, Phyllis and I were talking about.” You can’t imagine the story of last night will remain as boring as those first 15 minutes Jim had described. As long as you didn’t drink that much more after those three drinks.

“What were you guys talking about?”

Uh.

“Nothing?”

Jim chuckles, moving to finally sit down on the bed next to you, causing you to scootch over as he sits on top of the blankets, giving you all the space that you need in your hungover bliss.

“I take it forgot about your ‘bracelets’, then?” Jim smirks, unable to meet your eyes. Your stomach falls greatly, a small vague memory coming back to you as Jim continues his story.

---

Jim loses sight of you for a bit as he is pulled into a drinking game with Kevin and Meredith, narrowly beating Kevin but loosing to Meredith in a landslide. He glances around the conference room and into the bullpen but he doesn’t see you. Most of his coworkers were drunk, but he sees Angela in the corner, sipping on a lemonade in a black cat costume.

“Angela.” He calls out, making her sigh. “You’re not drinking?”

“I don’t drink at work.” She says, despite the fact she’s not currently working. Jim nods, taking another look around from the new spot in the room. “Besides, someone has to make sure no one does something stupid like drive.” Jim nods again, glad despite Angela’s resistance to the party, she is watching her coworkers. Angela stops watching her coworkers actions with disgust and looks up with Jim before sighing even louder. “She’s in the annex.”

Jim’s head snaps her way so fast that he almost spills his drink. “What?”

“Y/N. She’s in the annex with Ryan.” Jim knows he’s blushing at how obvious he was searching for you, but thanks her nonetheless. “Whatever.” She says and walks away to another corner, continuing to sip on her lemonade.

When Jim realizes Angela said you were alone with Ryan, he was quick to make his way out of the bullpen, hearing your laugh before he was even in the annex. When he does walk in, he’s greeted with you and Ryan a bit too close for his liking. “What’s going on?” He calls out and Ryan jumps back, one of his hands coming up to scratch the back of his neck and the other picking up his cup of beer on the table.

“Hey man,” Ryan says before downing his drink. Jim gives him a look of distrust before focusing on you.

“Jim!” Your eyes light up as you turn around to see who was there and right away Jim knows you’ve had quite a few more drinks or shots in his absence. The second thing he notices is the metal circling around your right wrist. You hold up the wrist to show him with a smile. “Do you like my bracelet?” the loose cuff almost smacks you in the face but you don’t react. Your smile, however, does fall the moment you get a good look at the costume piece. “Oh, wait…” you say to yourself. “They’re handcuffs.” You stare at the piece for a moment before smiling again. “I took them from the police.”

“You took them from the police?” Jim finally manages to say, wanting to make sure he doesn’t have to murder Ryan.

“She did.” Ryan is quick to nod. Jim still isn’t quick sure he believe him but once he’s focused on you again, you’ve got the bracelet off your wrist and chucking it at the temps head. Jim has to hold back a laugh as it knocks the hat off Ryan’s head, and smacks him in the face.

---

You’re quiet, burrowing your face in Jim’s pillow in embarrassment. “Oh my god.” You finally say.

Jim clears his throat. “You don’t uh, happen to remember exactly what was happening there, did you?”

Much to his relief you nod and say, “Yeah, I took his cuffs because I wanted to prove I could do a magic trick.”

“Can you do magic tricks?”

“I’ve never done a magic trick in my life.” You shake your head and pull the pillow away just in time for Jim and you to both start laughing again, although your embarrassment was reaching new levels of insane. “Please tell me that was all I did and I went home right after that.” Jim stays silent, but he looks right into your eyes, causing your heart to skip and your stomach to flip. “Please tell me I didn’t embarrass myself more.”

---

“Okay, I am taking you home.” Jim says and takes you by the hand, gently leading you out of the annex and through the kitchen. By the time you both enter the bullpen, Jim hears you gasp and he stops instinctively, thinking you might be hurt or sick or something.

You were staring at your intertwined hands with your mouth agape. Jim lets go of your hand slowly, but your expression doesn’t change. Instead, you make a sound that Jim can only describe as a squeal. The rest of the party around you falls quiet, all looking towards you and Jim.

Jim looks at them all and by the time he looks back at you, you were several feet shorter as you were on one knee.

---

“There is no way that happened.” You interrupt Jim, shaking your head once again and gripping the pillow tight.

Jim can only laugh hard, clutching his stomach from under the blanket, where he had moved during the course of the story. “You got on one knee.”

“There’s no way.”

“You asked me to marry you.”

“I asked you to marry me?” You are beyond embarrassed at this point. You are flustered and irritated and you want to go back in time to when you thought you could drink whatever you wanted at an office party. You went from simply embarrassing yourself to possibly outing your stupid little crush on your coworker. You want to leave, you want to hope this was all a dream and you were going to wake up in your own bed, but you have to know one thing first. “…Was there more?”

Jim is quiet for only a minute and you know instantly that last night wasn’t over yet.

---

“Marry me.” Your words were a bit slurred and quiet, but Jim definitely heard them and most likely your entire office did as well.

His heart is racing and his head is pounding and he doesn’t know exactly what to do, but before he can think, his drunk brain was already pulling you off the floor. “What’s that, Y/N? You want me to get you home? Now? Well, if you say so!” Before any of his coworkers could say anything, Jim is leading you out the front door of the office and calling for a cab on the way down the elevator.

You are leaning against him the entire way down and he can’t resist enjoying the feeling of you practically hugging him as he wraps his arms around you, keeping you together as you wait patiently for the taxi.

When it’s finally here, you are practically asleep in Jim’s arms, mumbling something about not drinking so much next time and for the first time all night, Jim thinks you might actually be okay. That is until you start crying in the taxi over the ending of some movie you had watched the day prior that Jim really can’t understand the name of. The taxi pulls up to Jim’s apartment and he struggles to get you through the door and up the stairs, cursing the elevator for being broken.

You’re finally in Jim’s bed and Jim lets out a sigh of relief, happy that you were safe and taken care of. He drapes your shawl over his desk chair and takes one last look at you before he starts to turn off the light. Just as the light turns off, a loud thud comes from the other side of the room and he flips the switch back on to see you face down on the floor.

He frowns before gently helping you up and making sure you’re okay once more. He was about to get you back in bed before you were suddenly more alert, scaring him a bit.

“I’m hot!” you yell out and he jumps back, colliding his back against the wall from being startled. He isn’t sure how exactly to help you before you pull your shirt over your head, quickly leaving you in your bra and giving Jim no time to divert his eyes. Just as you did with your shirt, your pants were on the floor and Jim is standing in front of you, looking up at the ceiling and covering his eyes with his hands.

“And now you’re naked.” Jim mutters mostly to himself because he can’t believe that you’re here, in his room, standing in front of him, in only your bra and matching underwear which he only got a glimpse of before coming to his senses and covering his eyes. He doesn’t know what to do next. He knows you’re not going to put your clothes back on and he doesn’t really want to remove his hand and help you and violate your privacy in the process. There’s only one thing he thinks of that might just work.

Blindly, Jim heads over to his dresser, finally removing his hand to search through his clothes. “Here,” he says, turning blindly once more. “You can wear these.” He holds the t-shirt and shorts out to you and his arm remains out stretched for a bit before you slowly take the clothes from him. When the sound of you changing stops, Jim lowers his hand.

The shirt was baggy on you and the shorts were a bit longer than shorts should have been, but Jim thought you looked great in them because they were his. You were wearing his clothes.

He must have been staring for a bit too long because you reach up and gently poke his cheek, breaking the moment between you both. Jim is hopeful in your state that you don’t realize how red his cheeks were when you poked them. “Alright, lets get you to bed.” You nod, finally working with Jim to get you under his covers and snuggled in his pillows. He has to stop himself from reacting the way he did with his clothes once again. When your breathing slowed down, Jim finally steps away, and just like earlier, he turns off the light, thanking everything possible that there was no thud this time.

He was just about to close the door before hearing you say, “I want your babies, Jim” and he freezes in his tracks.

---

For the first time all morning, you don’t say anything when Jim stops talking, you can only sit there with your head buried in the pillow, silently praying that the bed would simply open up and take you whole. Jim has no idea what is running through your head at the moment, he can only assume a whole lot of embarrassment, but if he was truthful, he isn’t sure you really needed to be embarrassed. He actually enjoyed taking care of you last night. And he has definitely been enjoying this morning as well.

“It wasn’t that bad.” Jim tries to reassure you but you can only groan into the pillow, a sound that Jim thinks slowly is turning into a laugh.

“I am never drinking again.” You say to him.

“I promise, it wasn’t that bad.” Jim pulls the pillow from your face, unable to hold back the smile on his lips when he sees you.

You sigh, staring into his comforting eyes before rolling your eyes. “Yeah, says you. You’re not the one who completely embarrassed herself in front of her coworkers and her cru- and her friend.” Just like that, you’ve embarrassed yourself even further. Hopefully, Jim didn’t catch onto the slip of your tongue, but you know you don’t have good enough luck for that. The two of you are quiet for a moment. You’ve refused to look at Jim since your slip up, settling for keeping your eyes closed, which is honestly helping with your hangover headache, and Jim just looking at you. “It least there are no photos on Facebook of me doing the robot this time.” You joke, hoping to help the situation a bit better.

All your comment does is elicit a “What?” from Jim, followed by chuckles as he promises himself to find those photos later.

The two of you were quiet once again, sitting in comfort as you think over the events of last night. You can hear your heartbeat echoing in your ears and your headache is a second thought to the fact that Jim and you were in his bed together and just talking. In all your years of pining after your coworker, you’ve never in this position before, so close together, your bodies were only separated by the fear of wanting more.

“Thank you for taking care of me.” You whisper to Jim and his smile softens his face.

“I always will.” He assures you and your lips tug upwards. “Besides, like you said last night, you need me.”

Your lips instantly tug downwards. “No, I didn’t.” You would’ve remembered that part of the story.

Jim can only laugh, scootching closer to you in the bed on accident with the action. “I didn’t tell you about the cab ride?”

“That I was crying over a movie?”

“And?”

“… and that I said that I need you?”

“And?

“And? What else did I say?”

“Besides that you need me?”

“Never said that.”

Jim smirks. He doesn’t say anything.

He doesn’t say that you rambled off almost a hundred reasons why you were in love in him.

He doesn’t say that it took everything in him to just say you were drunk and didn’t mean any of it.

He doesn’t say that despite feeling drunk himself, he sobered up real fast when he heard those three simple words tumble out of your mouth the first time. And the second time. And the third, fourth, fifth, even what seemed like the 99th time. He just wishes he could hear them again, when the words were said by a sober you.

“Come on, tell me!” You interrupt his thoughts, pushing on his shoulder gently. “What did I say? It can’t be worse than anything else I said to you last night, and I still blame it entirely on the alcohol.” Your hand lingers on his arm, slowly falling closer to the bed where his own hand was laying. Jim can’t look anywhere but your face, but your eyes were studying the way his fingers were slowly covering across your own, something Jim wasn’t even aware he was doing. “Jim?”

He clear his throat, breaking out of the moment between the two of you, but he doesn’t release the hold on your hand, instead he shifts his hand so your fingers intertwine together. “Nothing.” Jim lies, hating the whisper in his voice.

You don’t believe him, but the way he’s looking at you makes you not question him further. Maybe you didn’t need to know everything about last night. Maybe it was all worth it to lead you and Jim to this moment, the two of you growing closer and closer in his bed until his arm is wrapping around your waist and Jim and your breathing has slowed to a sleeping rhythm.

Maybe this time it was better that you didn’t wake up in the morning and be in your own house.

I am slowly moving out of using taglists because it is very tedious and I don't like them, so if you would like to know when I post new fics (if I post new fics) try to follow the account @updates-from-elle if you can, it might not work because I haven’t tried it or played with the settings and everything, so stay tuned!

#Jim halpert x reader #Jim Halpert imagine #Jim Halpert fanfiction #Jim Halpert #the office x reader #the office imagine #the office #the office fanfiction

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saetoru · 1 year

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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。MORE — HANMA SHUJI.

based on this shit post i made on my side that has not left my brain since i took my final so here is a painfully cheesy scene i took out of a fic i wrote a while ago that i’ll never post bc it’s embarrassingly self indulgent

“these are bad for you, did you know that?” you mutter.

“that so?” hanma hums, leaning closer as your fingers work his lighter. his forehead practically bumps against yours as you light the end of his cigarette��even despite your lecture. he watches you as you do it, glances over the bridge of your nose and the curve of your lips as you frown.

“yeah,” you huff. “if you used that head of yours, you’d know these are death sticks.”

his lips are crooked in that smile of his—one that tells you he won’t stop. it’s a silent truth you’re both aware of, but it doesn’t keep you from scolding him. he needs to know, you think—that someone cares what happens to him. someone will miss him, even if no one else else will.

“good thing i have you to tell me,” he grins.

you think you could paint it from memory, the wide curve of his lips. you could remember exactly where that dimple on his left cheek is, where every crinkle of his eyes are under his glasses, how the slant of his jaw angles as he leans his head up. you’re too busy staring at him to fight it when his hand rubs over the small or your back, curling his arm around you and pulling you flush against his chest.

“it’s not like you ever listen to me,” you grumble against his shirt. it smells like him—like smoke and cologne that must be comically expensive. and it’s bad for you, perhaps—the secondhand smoke that creeps up your lungs and kills you slowly. but it’s blissful, comforting even. “but you should listen to me more.”

“i should,” he agrees.

“you won’t,” you pout.

he chuckles at that, takes a drag from the cigarette in his hand as he holds you tighter, sways you gently as the sun sets and coats your skin, leaving it sweet and honeyed just for him.

hanma shuji is not known for gentleness. he’s a hushed whisper, as if speaking the reapers name welcomes him to your doorstep, the blood dripping from the scythe as a fresh reminder that death is only around the corner. he should be anything but gentle in your eyes—yet when his fingertips find your skin under your shirt, gliding over the dip of your back and the slants of your hips, you think he’s nothing but gentle.

gentle enough to love you. gentle enough to let you love him too. gentle enough to pretend his listens when you scold him. gentle enough to let you know he knows you’ll miss him—even if you’re the only one.

“old habits die hard, baby.”

it’s your turn to huff out a small laugh at that. you want to tell him you know. that old habits do die hard—it’s why you let him walk through your door at ungodly hours, why you clean the caked blood on his fists, why you leave room for him on the other half of the mattress.

old habits die hard. it’s why you love him, even if maybe you shouldn’t.

“if you loved me, you’d quit,” you murmur.

“yeah? you think i don’t fuckin’ love you?” his voice is smooth against your ear, it drowns out the honking cars and the bustling of the city below you. it’s warm and familiar and a tad bit dangerous, but it’s enough to make you relax against his body, arms wrapping around his torso.

it’s silent for a moment. he holds you as you think, and when you make out the beating of his heart under your cheek, you have your answer.

“you know what i think?”

“what, baby?”

“i think you should love me more,” you insist, poking his shoulder accusingly.

“so greedy,” he giggles—and then he pulls you closer, holds you tighter, takes in every part of you like he can’t get enough. it’s him who’s greedy, you think, with the way he wants you enough to make you want him too.

“if you die from lung disease, i’ll have to find a new boyfriend,” you point out.

“you won’t miss me?”

“nope,” you lie. “i’ll be rid of my biggest headache.”

“too bad. guess i won’t die then,” he grins, eyeing down at the top of your head.

somehow, you trust him—he’s never given you a reason not to. you’re sure the fingers on your hips and the warm chest under your cheek and the smell of smoke lingering in the air won’t leave you any time soon. and you hope it won’t, that the sins on his hands aren’t enough to outweigh the prayers on your tongue.

but just to be sure, you look up, propping your chin up on his chest as you whisper, “promise?”

he nods, throwing on that easy grin on his face again. your thumb finds the dimple of his cheek as you cup his face. “of course.”

i am unwell over him and it’s all because of mich 😒

#teepods.writings #drabbles.#hanma x reader #hanma x you #hanma fluff #hanma shuji x reader #hanma shuji x you #hanma shuji fluff #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers fluff #tr x reader #tr x you #tr fluff #tokrev x reader #tokrev x you #tokrev fluff

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7-wonders · 1 year

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A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes

Dream of the Endless/Morpheus x Reader

Summary: Life has never been the kindest to you, and you've come to expect only the worst from it. But when a golden-eyed stranger shows up at your place of work and promises you that all your dreams will come true if you just trust them, how are you to say no? Get ready—a ball in the Dreaming awaits.

(Based on the below ask)

Word count: 14.2k

Notes: A couple of housekeeping notes before we get into it! First, this is very heavily inspired by the "Season of Mists" plot from the comics. In the wider universe for this story, this replaces the events in that comic arc. There are no spoilers for the actual comics, though. The only thing you need to know about SoM is that there's an event that brings basically every important magical being to the Dreaming. This isn't super important, but I wanted you guys to be aware of the thought process behind what I did.

Also, for all my nonbinary and male readers—this fic features a gender neutral reader! I sincerely hope that everybody enjoys this.

As always, likes, comments, and reblogs make my world go round (but especially comments and reblogs), so if you enjoyed, show a gal some love!

Desire of the Endless

Desire of the Endless is facing a problem.

For the first time since…well, they can’t remember, actually, that’s how long it’s been since they felt the need to apologize for anything.

Desire has always prided themself on being completely and unapologetically them. If somebody didn’t like that, or if someone’s feelings got hurt, then too bad. That was their fault for not knowing what they were going to get into when they made Desire’s acquaintance.

However, Desire can also recognize when they’ve taken things too far, which is a very steep bar to hit. Practically everything that Desire does, they can justify it completely. This time, though, they finally can’t justify what they’ve done.

So an apology it is. A simple apology, however, is not going to cut it in this situation. Not that it should! But still, it would be a lot easier to patch things up if all it took was a “sorry.”

Oh well, Desire would just have to get creative in coming up with the apology to end all apologies. Thankfully, they had their dearest twin to turn to when they needed help with a little brainstorming, which is how Despair ends up lounging on a shiny red settee created from the very fabric of the Threshold.

Said anthropomorphic personification watches as her twin continues to pace, back and forth and back and forth, the heels of their shoes clicking against the floor for maximum effect. They perk up every so often before muttering something and shaking their head, discouraged once more. Despair, apparently having finally had enough, lifts her head from the armrest to give her full attention to her twin.

“Your despair is too much for even me to bear, Desire. Please, what is it that troubles you?”

“Our brother troubles me, and not in the way that he normally does.” Desire takes a seat next to their sister. “I find that I…regret the way that I have treated him over the past couple of centuries. I went too far.”

“Was it the ‘helping to trap him in a magician’s basement for a hundred and sixteen years’ or the ‘impregnating a sleeping woman in an attempt to make him spill family blood by killing the new Vortex’ that went too far?” Despair asks dryly.

Desire bares their teeth in a teasing warning, but Despair merely shrugs as if daring their twin to do it and rip her throat out. Desire sighs, knowing that they won’t be able to rattle her, they’ve never been able to accomplish that, and continues. “Regardless, I realize now that I went too far, and I want to make amends with him. Apologize to him.”

“And how are you planning to do that? I doubt a simple ‘I’m sorry’ will patch things up between you two.”

“I realize that too, which is why I seek to give him something to prove just how sorry I am. That’s where you come in, my dearest Despair. I’ve been brainstorming for days, but I have absolutely no idea what to give him as an apology.”

“Hmm.” After a moment, she nods. “I see your problem. Dream’s never exactly been easy to give a gift to.”

Despair begins to think, absentmindedly digging her fish hook into the skin of her face before dragging it down and repeating the process. Desire has always found themself morbidly fascinated by this compulsion that their twin has, unable to look away from the jagged skin that hangs open and the black ichor that drips sluggishly from the wounds.

The hook comes to rest on Despair’s lap, a sign that she’s finished thinking. “Most of your transgressions against our brother have involved you seeking to destroy the two things that control him most. His realm, and his loves. His realm is his duty, his function, his responsibility; he must have control over that, for it’s who he is.”

“Yes, Dream is nothing if not a stickler for his silly little rules,” Desire agrees.

“True, but you’re forgetting that second piece of the puzzle I mentioned. What has Dream always wanted more than anything?”

What was the one thing that Dream wanted, needed, desired, more than anything? The answer, though Despair already said it, hits Desire in the face. “Love,” they gasp.

Love! A mere step away from, and more often than not, intertwined with, Desire’s very function.

“But I cannot make somebody love him. Desire him, yes. That’s easy. Though the two are similar, love is something that even I cannot meddle in.”

“I’m not saying that you make somebody love him, nor that you even use your function to acquire this gift.”

Desire’s brows raise from the intrigue of what’s just been said. “Then what?”

“We both know that you’re extremely talented when it comes to meddling in others’ affairs. Instead of using it to harm this time, use it to help. Find Dream’s true love, and make it so that they come together. I believe mortals today call it a ‘meet-cute’?”

At first glance, it seems difficult, if not impossible. While the idea of true love is not rare (at least, to higher beings that know such a thing exists–mortals are still attempting to figure that out for themselves), true love among the Endless is, as of yet, still undiscovered. What if Dream doesn’t have a true love? Even if he does, how is Desire to find out such info—

Their train of thought screeches to a stop as they remember the function of their other brother. Of course! Destiny surely has it in his stupid Book whether or not Dream has some poor soul destined for him. And if he doesn’t, and the rest of his life is meant to be a string of shorter, passionate loves, then it would still be written down. Desire can bring him that happiness sooner as a show of good faith, a way to prove that they’re truly ready and willing to make amends. It’s growth, baby, and Desire’s entering a new era.

So yes, the task does seem difficult. But if there’s one thing Desire loves, it’s getting to play matchmaker. Getting to play matchmaker while meddling in the life of their favorite/least favorite sibling? Even better.

Slowly, a Cheshire Cat grin spreads across their face, and they press a kiss to Despair’s cheek, who begrudgingly accepts the affection. “You, my sister, are a genius.”

“I know.”

After seeing their twin back to their realm, Desire begins their second favorite hobby of scheming as they try to figure out how they’re going to trick Destiny into giving them a peek at his Book. Tough, considering the Book is literally chained to Destiny, but Desire has never been one to back away from a challenge.

Their chance at trickery comes sooner than expected, a mere two weeks later at the first family dinner held since Dream was deposed. None of the six remaining Endless are particularly thrilled to be in the Garden of Forking Ways, and it shows in the guarded way that they hold themselves as they stand around the room and wait to be summoned to the seven-sided table that sits in the middle of it.

Well, all except for the youngest are guarded. Delirium sits upside down in her chair, creating multicolored butterflies that fly out of the palms of her cupped hands and lazily around the room.

As the shades that serve Destiny move in and out of the room with various platters of food and drink, said Endless finally motions for his siblings to sit down along with him. Even then, they remain in an awkward silence. This family dinner is such a sudden event that none of them are entirely sure if there’s a reason behind it, leaving all feeling a little wary.

Destiny, being the eldest and the host of tonight’s festivities, is the first to speak. Naturally, it answers what none had been brave enough to ask. “I suppose you must be wondering why I called you all here.”

“Yes,” Dream says, even though it’s an obvious question. Of course they’re all wondering why they’re here.

“The Book has determined that we must meet.”

“Obviously,” Despair sighs. “But why? What are we meant to do while we’re here?”

“Rainbow butterflies!” Delirium throws her hands up into the air, releasing a swarm of rainbow butterflies. “Has everybody been watching the butterflies that I’ve been making? They’re pretty.”

Everybody simply watches the youngest sister, none saying anything. Finally, Destiny shakes his head. “No matter why we’re meant to be here. It clarified much that, previously, made little to no sense. Something important will happen. Something that sparks a chain of events, causing much change and upheaval.”

“And what is that occasion?” Death asks.

“This meeting. That is all.”

“Explain this further, my brother,” Dream prompts. “What must happen?”

“No. I have told you all I tell you. I have brought you all to this place. The rest is up to the five of you. Drink the wines. Eat of the fruit of my garden. Talk. It has been centuries since we were all together. We must have much to discuss.”

Desire sees their opening and takes it. “Mm, I bet we do. Why don’t we start with…Dream!”

Dream looks across the table at his sibling suspiciously. “Me?”

“Yes, you. Tell me...”

Desire is tempted to say something about his scorned lovers, but since they’re trying to work on making amends and not taking things too far, they refrain. One of the most difficult things they’ve ever had to do, truly.

“Killed any more of your unruly dreams or nightmares lately?”

What? They can still try to get a rise out of Dream in ways that won’t cut so deep. By the way his nose flares as he sits up straighter at the table, they know they’ve accomplished this mission.

“It needed to be done, and I will not take criticism from you on the choices I make regarding my realm,” Dream spits.

“Okay!” Death, ever the peacemaker, attempts to cut the tension. “Why don’t we talk about a different subject. Anything exciting happening for you, Dream?”

“Yes, actually.” Dream sits up in his seat a little straighter. “There is to be a ball in the Dreaming on the next full moon, to celebrate the return of my realm to its full strength. You are, of course, all invited.”

Ah, so Dream is to show the other monarchs and higher beings, gods and goddesses and deities, that his power has returned and that he is not to be trifled with. Desire can appreciate a good power play, and this is really all that the ball will be. A chance for the Dreaming to pull out all the stops, serve their finest food and drink, offer the most raucous and extravagant party so that every realm in existence will know that the King of Dreams and Nightmares has returned and is more powerful than they will ever be.

“Oh, how fun!” Death claps her hands together. “I remember when those used to be a regular occurrence in the Dreaming. Your dreams and nightmares do know how to throw a proper party.”

“I like parties,” Delirium chirps, hands chasing after the butterflies. “I’m gonna wear a princess dress!”

The rest of the dinner is fairly boring, compared to other family dinners in the past. Talk of Dream’s visit to Hell and the potential concerns there, minor gods ceasing to exist in the memories of mortals and thus returning to nothing, the problems that the Endless face in their daily lives as they continue their functions: it’s too normal for Desire’s liking, but they’re truly trying their hardest to not cause any major spats. Plus, they need to remain in Destiny’s good graces if they wish to have a chance at momentarily separating him from his Book.

When the dinner finally ends–Death is the first to excuse herself, with an earthquake calling for her to return to her function–the siblings begin to trickle out slowly, one after the other. Desire motions for Despair to go on without them, and while she would normally cause a fuss at having to leave without her beloved twin, she knows that they have an ulterior motive tonight and nods before disappearing back through her portrait.

When Delirium finally tumbles her way into her realm, it’s just Desire and Destiny left remaining in the Garden of Forking Ways. Desire sidles up to their older brother, who sighs wearily and looks with his unseeing eyes at his sibling.

“Desire, shouldn’t you be back at the Threshold by now?”

“Brother Destiny,” Desire coos, trying to seem as laid back as they usually are. “Doesn’t that book of yours ever get too heavy to carry?”

“You’re not going to fool me,” he says. Desire grits their teeth and curses under their breath. “For reasons beyond my understanding, however, the Book dictates that I do this.”

“Do what?”

It’s obvious that he doesn’t want to, but Destiny holds his Book out towards Desire. They can’t believe their luck, and quickly snatch the book from their brother before he can say that the Book said something different and take it back. Their nails–red, of course–run along the plain brown cover before they flip the Book open.

There, laid out as plain as can be, is the answer to Desire’s query. Dream does have a true love, much to Desire’s utter delight, and said true love is a human. A human! If the Universe didn’t want Desire righting their wrongs, then they wouldn’t make Dream’s other half the same species of being as the one whom Desire first meddled with all those years ago.

“Did you find what you were seeking?” Destiny asks, making Desire remember that they’re not alone. When they look up from the Book, they notice their brother’s hands twitching as he fights to snatch back his most precious belongings.

“Yes, I did.” Desire hands the Book back, and Destiny cradles it as if it’s been missing for months and not like he was inches away from it the entire time. “Thank you very much, brother mine. I believe I’ll be going now.”

After all, they have a lot to do between now and the full moon.

You

You’re attempting to sneak a couple of quick bites from your shift meal when the door chimes to signal that it’s been opened, and you sigh before setting down the french fry you were so looking forward to enjoying. Though you want to be disappointed, you know better than that.

Life has taught you better than to enjoy things so that you can find yourself inevitably disappointed by them.

Maybe that’s a little pessimistic for one just entering adulthood. Still, when you’re kicked out and left to fend for yourself in your teen years while your peers are only worrying about homework and if their boyfriend will still be their boyfriend by the time the school formal rolls around, cynicism feels a little warranted.

You’ve worked anywhere from two to four jobs at a time just to have enough money for a place to live. While you’re now down to only two jobs, which you enjoy, for the most part, it still means that you’re far more stressed and tired than you would wish to be. You’ve made peace with the fact that you’ll seemingly always have to fight to enjoy any quality of life…well, you’ve mostly made peace with it. There are times, like now, where you’re exhausted and hungry and you just want to scream and rage at the cards life has dealt you.

Instead, you just put a smile on your face and get ready for your next customer. When you make your way to the end of the restaurant’s bar where the newcomer has seated themself, they’re already watching you expectantly. Their eyes, golden and piercing, make your skin crawl in the way that it does when it feels like someone knows more about you than you’ve cared to divulge.

“Well, hello,” they greet.

The newest bar patron grins at you with dark purple-painted lips. They’re stunning, and also insanely overdressed (seriously, a fur coat?) for a casual bar. You’d think that they were just coming from a party if it weren’t for the fact that it’s 7 p.m. on a Wednesday. Going to one, then? Mid-week parties are rare, but they seem like a person who just naturally gets invited to every and any party.

“Hi there, how are you?” you greet, cringing at the worn-out sound of your customer service voice after almost 12 hours of using it.

“Oh, just swell.”

“Great! What can I get for you?”

“Hmm, gin and tonic?”

You nod, hands already reaching for the required ingredients. Though it took forever to really get the hang of bartending, it’s kind of like riding a bike; once you learn, you can’t forget. “I’m on it.”

Your patron gratefully takes the glass that you slide across the bar to them, taking a long sip before letting out a satisfied noise. “My, you do know how to make a good drink.”

“Hah, thank you. Can I get you anything else?”

“No, but I’d love it if you could spare a moment to chat.”

“Um–” You scan the bar in a quick check of your other customers, of which there are few now that the dinner rush is over. Just a couple of regulars, so you really have no excuse to say no. “Yeah, sure. Just for a moment, though.”

It’s not uncommon that people want to talk with you. Whether because of your job, that you’re a captive audience, or the fact that you’re providing them with a steady stream of alcohol, customers love spilling their guts to their bartenders. This customer, however, gives you hesitance. They just look like they’re up to no good, like they’re hoping to use you for something that you don’t want to be a part of.

Regardless, you put away the bottles you were using and turn your full attention to the customer, who’s savoring their drink in much smaller sips than they did previously. Although you’re a great multitasker, people think that you’re not fully listening when you’re doing other tasks. And though you try to get your busy work done during your shift so you can get out of here the second you’re scheduled to clock out, you also know how to maximize your tip potentials. You win some, you lose some, you suppose.

When they finally do speak, you’re not expecting them to say, “You look like someone who wants more out of life.”

It’s an odd way to start a conversation, but you’ll bite. Not the first philosophical patron you’ve had. “I mean, who doesn’t? I feel like life is just constantly seeking…more. More money, more knowledge, more connection.”

“A very interesting way of considering the meaning of life. But you, specifically. You have not had a very easy go of things, have you?”

You narrow your eyes. “What are you getting at?”

“You wish for adventure. For a purpose bigger than that which you’ve been led to believe you’re destined for. For something great.”

Swallowing harshly, your pulse thunders in your ears as you grip the wood of the bar, suddenly feeling extremely disconcerted. It could just be a generalization, one that most people would relate to were they called out on it, but it seems like the customer knows you, knows your innermost desires, just from looking at you. Finally, you slowly nod. Their grin somehow seems to grow even bigger.

“Mm, I thought so. Take this.” From within the sleeve of their coat, the stranger produces a business card. “It will help make all your…dreams come true.”

Hesitantly, you take the piece of paper from them. When you look down at it, expecting to see the usual business card information like a name and a phone number, you’re surprised to see that it’s completely blank. Even when you flip it over, the blank back greets you.

“But there’s nothing on—” Your sentence trails off when you look back up, the nameless customer long gone. In their place sits the empty glass, stained with their dark lipstick, of course, and a ten-dollar bill. Other than that, an intoxicating perfume is the only sign that they were even here in the first place.

An indeterminate amount of time passes as you try to figure out what just happened, with the only thing snapping you out of your stupor being the calling of your name. Tate, this evening’s line cook, stares at you expectantly.

“You okay?” she asks. “I’ve called your name three times now, but you’ve just been standing there like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Um.”

Are you okay? Spooked, yes, but there’s nothing that you can really do about that now.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“Good.” Tate nods, still not looking too convinced. “Table seven’s looking like they’re ready for the check.”

“I’m on it.”

And you are. Like the good, dutiful worker you’ve always been, you push down any of your actual emotions and thoughts and put on your service face, smiling and ready to accept anything thrown your way.

By the time your shift is over at 11, the encounter with the nameless customer is long forgotten. All that you can think when you finally make it home is about going to bed and sleeping until you have to be up for your other job tomorrow morning.

Just unlocking the door and stepping into your tiny apartment has your shoulders releasing the tension that had been built up in them all day. Yeah, your apartment is tiny and probably not the best in terms of quality. But it’s yours, and it’s home, and that’s what matters to you. You’ve made the very best of it, and for now, nobody can take that away.

It takes almost all of the remaining energy you have to strip off your work clothes and do some semblance of your nighttime routine, and you mentally thank Tate for insisting you eat something while on the clock. You don’t think you could stay awake long enough to actually eat something right now. When you fall into bed and pull the covers up around you, your only thought is that you hope that you have the type of deep sleep that doesn’t produce any dreams or nightmares. Lord knows you need it.

The hopes that you had are promptly crushed when you open your eyes to find yourself standing on a bridge that leads to a large palace. It’s the oddest place you’ve ever seen, an amalgamation of palaces from all sorts of cultures. Domes and spires and turrets make up the outside architecture, and though it sounds like an eyesore, it’s actually quite beautiful. Strains of music spill out from the open doors, and guests in a variety of finery make their way inside to join what appears to be a party.

You should be wondering why you’re here, as well as how you’re currently having the most vivid dream you’ve ever had, but all questions seem to be answered by the logic of it being a dream. Of course weird things are going to happen; it’s a dream. Maybe tomorrow, you’ll wake up and think about just how strange the dream actually was. But right now, you’re just going to go with the flow, even if that flow is, apparently, a royal ball.

“Hello, mortal,” a voice as sickly-sweet as honey croons next to you. When you look to your right, you find your golden-eyed customer from earlier in the day standing next to you. This still doesn’t concern you, and if you took the time to be concerned, you’d still just chalk it up to the nature of dreams.

“It’s you!” you exclaim.

They hold their hands out and wave them in an effortless jazz hands. “Yes, it’s me.”

They’re somehow dressed even more elegantly than they were at the restaurant, wearing a silver corset tucked into a pair of wide-legged, black trousers. Their heeled boots add a couple of inches to their already-tall figure, and you have to look up in order to properly look them in the eye.

“I was beginning to get a little concerned that you weren’t going to take my offer.”

“Uh, sorry? I just got off of work a little bit ago.”

They wave a hand dismissively. “What, didn’t tell your boss that you had better things to do?”

“You weren’t exactly forthcoming with the details,” you mutter. Your former customer begins to take long, purposeful strides towards the crowds waiting to get into the palace, and you hurry to catch up. “Wait, where are we?”

“This is the Dreaming and you, my dear, are about to attend a ball.”

“What, like in Bridgerton?”

They scoff, obviously offended by your reference. “Please, this is miles better than anything Bridgerton could even hope to come close to. But yes, I suppose so.”

Panic floods you, but not for the reason you’d think. “But I’m not even dressed for a ball!”

They raise a perfectly-sculpted eyebrow at you. “You’re not?”

When you look down at yourself, you find that you are, in fact, dressed for a ball.

An entire galaxy has come down from the heavens in order to settle itself on the champagne-colored fabric of the most fancy clothes you’ve ever worn. The golden stars, all different sizes, shimmer with each twist of your body that you make in order to properly catalog your outfit. The best part of this ensemble, by far, has to be the cape that you’re wearing that’s held on your shoulders by three delicate chains clasped together across your chest.

“Oh my god,” is all you can say, finding it difficult to tear your eyes away from the complete transformation your wardrobe has undergone.

“Close, but not quite,” they say cheekily. “Though, I do enjoy being worshiped.”

You meet their liquid gold stare. “Why are you helping me? Why am I here?”

“Now that’s a long story. Let’s just say that I owe somebody an apology, and you’re a part of said apology.”

There are so many more questions bouncing around in your mind, but they turn on their heel before you can ask any of them, forcing you to keep up with them as they walk to the entrance of the palace.

“Hello, Wyvern.”

The dragon (a dragon! You’re staring at a dragon!) bows his head at the greeting. “Desire.”

“Is that your name?” They ignore your question.

“You are, as always, welcome in my Lord’s domain.” The wyvern looks at you. “Your guest, however, needs an invitation to enter.”

“Go on, present your invitation,” Your companion prompts.

You furrow your eyebrows. “My invitation?”

Oh! The paper that they had given you back at the bar. But wait, where had you put that stupid paper? You have to think for a second before remembering, and any relief you had felt is washed away by the panic returning in full-force when you remember where it is. Looking at your mysterious benefactor with wide eyes, you grimace as you try to figure out how to explain this to them.

“I left it in the pocket of my work jeans.”

They sigh as if you’re a minor nuisance, which, maybe you are. “Check your pockets, dear one.”

Slipping your hands into your pockets, you’re already preparing an “I told you so” speech. After all, how could that business card have magically moved from one set of pockets to another? When your fingers brush against something very paper-like, you almost can’t believe it. Your mind has already worked out the whole “dream logic” issue, but teleportation seems to be too much even for that.

When your hand emerges holding the paper, your friend smiles smugly at you and nods their head in the direction of the large, mythical animals. “Now present your invitation.”

You hold the paper up towards what had previously been referred to as a wyvern. Even though there’s nothing written on it, he studies it for a moment before nodding. “I bid you welcome on behalf of my Lord. Enjoy the festivities.”

“Uh, thanks!” you say, manners winning out among the insanity of the evening.

The crowd parts for your friend as guests bow their heads politely, which makes you think that there’s a lot that you don’t know about this person who inserted themself into the middle of your life. What did I get myself into?, you wonder as you hurry behind them and into the ballroom.

You haven’t exactly seen very many ballrooms in your life before now, but even if you had, this one would be your favorite. It reminds you of pictures you’ve seen of Russia’s Imperial Palace during the reigns of the tsars, all cathedral ceilings and marble columns. One of the walls is just a line of windows that looks out over a picturesque valley, and breathtaking artwork from some of history’s most exalted artists looms overhead. The guests of this ball, all opulently dressed, mingle below, with many already dancing to the music that comes from an unseen orchestra.

At the top of a long set of stairs sits a stone throne, currently unoccupied. The ruler of this land must be really lonely, you think. Why else would they purposely place themselves so far away from everyone else, if not to feel the sharp sting of being alone?

The pièce de résistance of this entire room, however, has to be the ceiling. You’re not sure whether it’s magic or if the ballroom doesn’t even have a ceiling and instead looks straight up at the most striking view of the sky you’ve ever seen. You can’t tear your eyes away from the swirling galaxy that’s more beautiful than any NASA telescope picture could even begin to capture, and you’re sure that your jaw is hanging open and making you look like an idiot.

You’re so caught up in the wonder that sits directly over your head that you don’t notice when your new friend spots someone or something that they want to go check out. Apparently deciding that it’s a good idea to at least give you a little courtesy warning, they sidle up behind you.

“Have fun,” they whisper into your ear.

When you turn around, they’re nowhere to be seen, which means you now have to fend for yourself in an unfamiliar situation. Not ideal, but you should be fine. After all, this is just a dream, right?

Since you were given the advice to “have fun,” you decide to try and actually do so. People watching is always fun, made even more so when everyone is dressed up in all manner of finery. As you study the crowd a bit more, you realize that “people watching” is the wrong term to use, because the vast majority of the guests here aren’t human people.

There are beings clothed in white robes with huge wings on their backs that surely must be angels. Some guests wear traditional regalia from Greek, Roman, Japanese, and other historic empires. The most unsettling are the ones that look human, beautiful, even, until you’re able to take an extended look at their faces and realize that the beastly masks they’re wearing, the horns and the snouts and any other combination of monstrous features, aren’t masks at all. Rather, those are their faces, heavily decorated with makeup, but terrifying just the same.

There’s a little girl in an oversized party dress and clown makeup clapping her hands as a gargoyle tries blowing up a balloon, and a literal void with faces in it speaks to a tall, imposing figure with golden curls and black wings. You’re pretty sure one of the guests is even a human-sized cat woman. Not Catwoman, like the supervillain, but a cat woman. You try not to stare, but it’s impossible, and your eyes keep finding your way back to her as you continue to walk around the outskirts of the ballroom.

Even though you’re completely and utterly normal, it’s impossible for anybody attending tonight’s festivities to not feel the sheer power that each and every being here seems to possess. It’s beginning to make you feel self-conscious: if you can sense the magic that all of the guests have, then surely they can tell that you’re not like them. Everywhere you turn, it seems like you’re meeting somebody else’s eyes as they judge you and how out of place you are.

Your chest grows tight as your skin pricks with heat, the room suddenly beginning to be far too crowded for your liking. There must be a way for you to get outside. You need air, or else you’re worried that you’re going to pass out in front of all these partygoers—after a moment of frantically scanning the room, you see the main hallway that you and your strange new friend had entered through. Knowing for a fact that this path will lead you outside, you set out with a determination to make it through the crowd.

This task, however, is much more difficult than you had previously thought it would be. Apparently, the room being so crowded wasn’t just a part of your panicked imagination; there are far more guests here now, and it’s almost impossible to move through all of them. The music, which just minutes ago seemed whimsical and charming, now sounds sinister in your ears as somebody grabs you and begins to dance with your unwilling form.

Like a doll, you’re spun from one person to the next, all of them ignoring your helpless pleas as you beg them to stop. Instead, much to your chagrin, they all seem to take joy in your panic as they laugh and leave you with no choice but to obey their whims. You’re dizzy and breathless, and at this point you can’t tell if it’s from the dancing or the anxiety.

The next set of hands that grab you are much gentler than all the preceding pairs, and they bring you to a stop instead of sweeping you into another dance. Finally, finally, it seems that somebody has taken pity on you, the poor human that’s become nothing more than a glorified plaything. When your vision finally rights itself, you note that your savior’s even managed to pull you out of the maelstrom of people that had so easily claimed you. You go to thank this person, only to have what little breath you’ve regained stolen from you when you look up.

The man standing before you is a classic study in contrast. His chalk-white skin stands out strikingly against his robes and his hair, both as black as pitch. The only difference in shade comes from the flames that you can see licking up the bottom of his robes like they’re meant to be there. Though, in this dream world, it makes total sense that flames would be a good accessory.

He’s objectively one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen, but his features are sharper than that of a normal human’s, from the stately slope of his nose to his high cheekbones that are completely devoid of the flush that normally hides behind skin. The biggest giveaway that he’s not like you are his eyes: black pools in which stars twinkle and sparkle. They should be frightening; after all, nobody should have eyes that look like that. Instead, you just find yourself enraptured as you try not to lose yourself in them.

“I do not know you.” The bluntness with which he makes this statement is so jarring (not even beginning to mention that he has the deepest, smoothest voice you’ve ever heard) that it pulls you out of your daydreaming about his eyes, and you glare up at him.

“Okay? I don’t know you either.”

He seems to realize that he came off like a major jackass, and quickly backpedals. “Apologies, I did not mean to make it sound so accusatory. I simply find myself…curious. I believed that I knew everybody here.”

“Well that makes one of us, because I think I only know one person here.”

“Who?” he asks curiously.

You look around the room to see if you can find your mysterious friend, but they’re nowhere to be seen. “I can’t find them, it’s too crowded in here. You already know that though, considering you just saved me from being crushed or forced to dance until I collapse from exhaustion. Thank you for that, by the way.”

“Of course. After all, I could not let one unfamiliar with those here be forced to mingle with Cluracan of the Faerie.”

He nods his head in the direction of a tall, willow-thin man with golden blond hair and pointed ears. If his pompous attitude wasn’t visible even from a distance, then his outfit, a coat and breeches with the same coloring as that of a peacock, would surely clue you in.

“By the looks of it, that would have been a fate worse than death,” you remark solemnly.

The man laughs. It’s a harsh bark of a laugh, one that sounds like it comes from someone who both doesn’t know how to laugh and has never heard a laugh before. People in your general vicinity look your way in alarm and discomfort, but you can only watch with a delighted, albeit confused, grin on your face.

“What’s so funny about that?”

“If you were to meet Death, you would find that she is actually quite pleasant. It is…enjoyable…to spend time with her.”

“Sounds like you’ve spent a lot of time with her.”

“I have.”

His eyes grow soft and distant as he thinks of Death, and it’s obvious that he’s quite fond of her. He shakes his head slightly, pulling himself back to the present.

“You did not look as though you were enjoying yourself, even before you were forced to dance.”

“So you were watching me?”

He suddenly feels the need to fastidiously study the galaxy ceiling, but you can see how his cheeks flush with embarrassment. To your surprise, it’s not the normal pinkish shade. Instead, it’s a light purple that spreads under his skin.

“You were!” you tease triumphantly.

“As I said, I believed that I knew everyone here. I was curious when I saw that wasn’t the case.” He looks back at you, those starry eyes twinkling. “You have not answered my question.”

It takes you a second to remember what his question was in the first place. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, everything here is so wonderful and fantastical! I guess I’m just not much of a party person. Never have been.”

“I must confess, I also find I am not too fond of these parties.”

“So then what are you doing here?”

“Currently? I am attempting to avoid Queen Titania of the Faerie.”

He nods his head in the direction of a woman with blue-tinged skin and some of the most frighteningly dainty features you’ve ever seen, almost like those of a china doll. She’s frocked in a midnight blue gown with puffy sleeves, and as she moves through the room in an apparent search for your companion, a whole entourage follows obediently behind her.

“She’s not as good of a time as Death, I’m guessing?” you ask.

A smirk is the only answer that you get from him, apparently deciding to be enough of a gentleman that he won’t outright insult anybody.

It feels like a lightbulb goes off over your head as you think over what he said. “Wait, Queen Titania, like the character from Midsummer Night’s Dream?”

He looks immensely pleased at the connection that you’ve made. “The very same.”

“Huh. I wonder how Shakespeare met her.”

This seems to make him ponder something, and after a moment, he speaks again. “Where were you trying to go? Before you became an unwilling dance partner, that is.”

Oh yeah. You’ve so thoroughly enjoyed talking to this man that you almost forgot that you were on the brink of panic just a few minutes ago. “I was trying to find a way outside so that I could get some air.”

He nods. “Come, then. We shall get you some air, myself a reprieve from hiding, and I will tell you the story of how Shakespeare came to develop his cast of characters.”

When he holds his hand out to you, taking it is one of the easiest decisions you’ve ever made.

Keeping to the walls is a much better strategy than what you had tried before, which was to forge your own path through the crowds and hope for the best. You duck through one of the stone awnings near the back of the room, one that’s partially obscured by a heavy curtain. When you’ve successfully made it out, your companion’s relief at not being caught by the Queen of Faerie is palpable, and it makes you giggle.

You walk with him through the gardens for the rest of the evening, enjoying foliage that absolutely doesn’t exist in the real world and the company of one of the most enigmatic creatures you’ve ever spent time with. Yet, as he asks you question after question about the most mundane of subjects in your daily life, listening with rapt, awed attention as you answer each and every one, you feel like you’re the one that’s mystical and worshiped across all cultures.

(Though he hasn’t said it outright, you get the feeling that he’s some type of deity, which is simultaneously frightening and fascinating)

The flowers continually pull your attention away from the conversation at hand, not that your companion seems to mind too much. He dutifully fills the air with facts about each of the plants that you stop at, which is why it’s such a surprise when you’re suddenly surrounded by silence.

Looking up from a variant of daisy that shimmers as it goes down a gradient of white to red, and back again, you notice that he’s watching you. You smile at him, waiting for him to launch into the tale of how this flower came to be in this garden, and when he still doesn’t move, you grow a little concerned.

“What is it? Are you okay?” you ask. He seems to finally rouse himself from whatever daze he had gotten himself into.

“Yes, I…” He trails off, continuing to stare, before he shakes his head a couple of times and looks back at the party. This time, when he speaks, his voice is somehow softer than before. “I believe I promised you a story, yes?”

When he finally does get around to telling you the promised story, it’s so much better than anything you could have imagined. The man is a truly gifted storyteller. You can practically see the scene as he develops it, of a man in a darkened pub being offered the tantalizing gift of inspiration for works that would live on well past his death. Did Shakespeare worry that he was making a deal with some sort of demon, or was the prospect of everlasting fame more powerful than any fear or trepidation he may have felt?

“Is it a true story?” you ask, when he finishes with the first performance of Midsummer Night’s Dream which was, surprisingly, performed for an audience that included the actual Queen Titania. Apparently, she was thrilled by her portrayal, and gave the play a glowing review.

A coy tilt of the head is the only answer that you get, leaving the true interpretation of the story up to you, the listener. Though you want to say that it’s fake–after all, Shakespeare making a pact with an immortal creature that then helped him to come up with plays that would forever change the course of humanity just sounds ludicrous–another part of you, the part that has spent this impossible night surrounded by Fae and gods and all other manner of fantastical creature, knows that this is, in fact, true.

“Are you the one that gave him inspiration?”

“Perhaps,” is all that he says.

“You’re frustratingly vague, you know that?”

This makes him smile, and he looks down to simultaneously rein his emotions back in (he does that a lot, you notice) and to pull something from the sleeve of his robe.

“Am I?” he asks.

His pale hand comes up to present you with one of the color-changing daisies you were looking at earlier. Your breath catches in your throat when he tucks the flower behind your ear, and when his hand lingers against your cheek, you think you’ll never establish a normal breathing rhythm ever again.

“And what would you do, were a stranger to come up to you and offer you anything you ever wanted?”

“Well, I–I guess it depends.”

“On what?”

At this point, you can barely do more than whisper. “On who the stranger is.”

Though you try not to, you can’t help yourself from looking down at his plush, pink lips. You dart your eyes back up to his face, worried about being caught, only to see that he’s done the same.

He leans in even closer, nodding his head slightly towards you. “May I…?”

You nod softly, worried that any sudden movements will ruin the perfect little bubble that you seem to have found yourself in. Are you really about to kiss this powerful being, the most beautiful man you’ve ever laid eyes on? When he brushes his nose against yours, you know the answer is that yes, yes you are about to kiss him. Just as your lips meet his, a harsh alarm jerks you out of his arms and back to consciousness.

Rolling over in your familiar bed, in your familiar apartment, you hit the screen of your phone harshly until the alarm finally turns off. Laying on your back, you stare up at the ceiling and replay every moment of the dream you just had while it’s still fresh in your mind.

You let out a disbelieving sigh at just how wonderful of a dream you had. The giddy smile is impossible to remove from your face, and you run your hands over your flaming cheeks as you giggle.

What a dream. A royal ball, mythical creatures, a gorgeous outfit, and the most captivating man you’ve ever imagined. You already know that you’ll be thinking about your dream man, and the kiss you almost shared, for days to come.

A second alarm, the one that warns that you really need to get out of bed and get ready if you don’t want to be late, begins to sound from your phone.

“Fine,” you mutter to the inanimate object, sitting up and pulling it off of the charger. “You win. I’m up.”

As you get out of bed, you don’t notice the daisy petals that you leave behind on your pillow.

You go about your day feeling like you’re on cloud 9, unable to stop thinking about last night. Not that you want to stop thinking about any moment of your dream. By the time you’re back at the bar for yet another evening shift (only two more days until you have an actual day off!), somebody finally decides to ask what the hell happened to you.

“What the hell happened to you?” Reese, tonight’s hostess for the restaurant side of the establishment, asks. “You’re walking around like a Disney princess or something.”

You shrug. “Just…had a really, really wonderful dream last night.”

“Like a sex dream? I’ve had a few of those that I’d call ‘really, really wonderful’.” Tate pipes up through the kitchen window, meaning you have no choice but to reach through and shove him.

“Fuck off!”

He laughs and jumps back to avoid your ire. “So it was a sex dream!”

“No! It was just really sweet and romantic, y’know?”

“I get it,” Reese says.

You gesture to her gratefully. “Thank you.”

“Who was the lead? Mine’s usually Harry Styles.”

Though you both sigh a little wistfully, you shake your head. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen this man before last night.”

“Isn’t it, like, a thing that you can’t dream of people whose faces you’ve never seen?” Tate asks.

“With a face like his, I definitely would have remembered seeing him while I was awake.”

“Fuck,” Reese grumbles when the door opens and a family walks in. “Can’t people be a little kinder and realize that we’re gossiping here?”

“Apparently not.”

Everybody shares in a “we hate our customer service job” groan before breaking to do their respective tasks. Reese slaps on a big smile and asks “how many are joining you guys this evening?” Tate flips a couple of burgers on the grill, and you turn to check on your regulars that are enjoying a couple of after-work beers.

Sometimes, it really sucks that you can’t just daydream about whatever you want because you’re forced to work in order to survive. But as the night wears on and your plastic tip cup housed beneath the bar continues to grow more stuffed with bills thanks to very generous tippers tonight, you see the importance of not living in your head.

That is, until someone’s standing across from you at the bar and you smile at them in preparation to take their order, only to almost drop the glass you’re cleaning when you lay eyes on your dream man from last night.

He’s traded the long robes for a simple black peacoat, a black shirt, and black jeans, but he still manages to look regal in them. The wardrobe isn’t the main difference, though. That would be his eyes. Where last night they were black pools of stars, tonight, they’re a bright blue. Just as stunning, but in a completely different way.

The only thing about him that’s the same is his hair. The black strands are still just as wild and untamed as they were at the ball, and it makes your heart flutter to see. You have to hold yourself back from reaching across the bar to try and smooth them out a bit, but really, you just want to feel how soft his hair must surely be.

He’s smiling at you, that same shy smile that graced his lips while he was talking to you about plants. You realize that you need to say something, anything, but all you manage to come up with is, “Hi.”

“Hello.” His voice still sounds like what you imagine melted dark chocolate must sound like if it could talk, and your cheeks grow hot from it.

“It’s you. You’re real!” You wince at the stupidity of that statement. Obviously he’s real, he’s standing right in front of you!

He looks very amused by this, and you don’t blame him. “Did you think I was not?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug. ��I mean, it was just a dream.”

“It is never ‘just a dream’.”

You come around from the other side of the bar so that you can actually be standing across from him without anything impeding you.

“I believe we forgot to properly make each other’s acquaintance last night.”

It’s only when he says that that you realize that he’s right. You don’t even know his name, and he doesn’t know yours. A glaring oversight on both of your parts, but one that he looks ready to correct.

He gently takes one of your hands in one of his, bending just slightly at the waist as he brings your hand up to kiss the back of it.

“I am Morpheus, Dream of the Endless. You may call me by either name, dearheart, for either shall sound sweet coming from your lips.”

You entrust him with your name, and he grins so radiantly that you feel as though you’ve been standing in front of the sun. He repeats it back to you, and you could swear that you’ve never heard your name sound so beautiful before now. You’d give anything to hear him say it again and again. Hell, if the last word you ever heard on this Earth was this man–Dream! Morpheus!–saying your name, you’d die happy.

Even though you’re totally sure that this isn’t a dream (you know, you pinched your leg to make sure), part of you is still worried that either he or you will disappear again. Who’s to say that you’ll be able to find each other a second time? Just in case your fears come true, you decide to act before you can remember why you don’t act before thinking.

Dream’s still holding onto one of your hands, and you use it to pull him closer to you, close enough that your noses are almost touching as he bends his head just slightly to look at you. His eyebrows are raised as he waits for you to make your next move. Said next move consists of you wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a long-awaited kiss.

If he’s surprised, he doesn’t show it at all. One hand rests on your waist while the other goes to your chin so that he can tilt your head the way that he likes–you’re certainly not going to stop him from doing that.

The restaurant patrons all start cheering, and you can hear Tate and Reese wolf-whistling. It’s embarrassing, but you’re too wrapped up in Dream right now to fully care. Maybe after you separate. For now, since both of your arms are over Dream’s shoulders, it makes it easy for you to flip your coworkers off without having to interrupt your kiss.

Later, you’ll have to see if you can track down your strange, golden-eyed friend and thank them for giving a blank business card to a stranger who worked at a bar. After all, they were right. That card has made all your dreams come true.

Dream of the Endless

Dream of the Endless is not at all thrilled to be playing host to beings from almost every realm that the Dreaming has even the most tentative of alliances with. He received his reputation as a recluse for a reason, and it’s certainly not because he loves being social.

But tonight is not for him, no. It’s for the Dreaming. He had been gone for far too long, even if it was against his will. Not only had the Dreaming crumbled physically, but its standing as one of the most powerful realms in existence had crumbled too. Now that he was back and his kingdom restored to its former glory, if not more powerful than it was before his departure, he intended to remind each and every naysayer just why the Dreaming commanded their respect.

Of course, right as he’s thinking that the night is shaping up to be quite successful, he sees a guest that he most certainly did not invite. He knows this for certain, because he knows everybody and their dreams just by looking at them. Even if he didn’t, when one is alive for as long as the Endless have been, one gets to know most everybody that’s of a higher rank or class of the various realms.

You, with golden stars swimming across your body, are entirely unfamiliar to him. Even more unsettling is the fact that he doesn’t just intuitively know his name, which means there are other forces at play here. And on this night, where the Dreaming is meant to be at its best, he will not allow his enemies any opportunity to take that away from him.

It’s obvious in your demeanor that you’re uncomfortable amongst the crowds, and Dream is not the only one to notice it. When the eyes of the Trickster God, Loki Skywalker, land on you, Dream can almost see the plan formulating in the Norseman’s head. He takes a couple of quick steps, and before you can even blink, he’s swept you unwillingly into a dance.

You’re immediately begging for him to let you go, your fists pounding against his arms as you attempt to free yourself from his embrace. Loki does finally acquiesce to your demands, but simply spins you into another’s arms. Those in the general vicinity all seem to be in on this little joke, all of them laughing and taking their turn to have your resistant self in their embrace.

Suddenly, you don’t look like a threat. You’re simply a person, scared and out of your element, a pawn in the games of beings much more powerful than you. Dream may not know your true intentions, but he can’t continue to let this happen under his purview. With a single thought, he’s across the ballroom and pulling you into his own arms and away from those hoping to be next in line for a dance.

You stumble over your own feet, your body still propelled forward by the inertia of the other dancers that came before Dream. Blinking furiously to try and clear your vision, you’re finally able to look up at him without getting dizzy.

Dream watches you try to figure out something, anything to say, and in return he studies you as well. It’s still impossible for him to divine any sort of information about you, but he can’t sense any other being’s magic on you that would be blocking his access. Apparently, you’re simply an anomaly, and that’s not including figuring out how you got past the gatekeepers in the first place.

“I do not know you,” he finally settles on saying. Apparently, by the way that you glare at him, it comes out much harsher than he had planned.

“Okay? I don’t know you either.”

He has to apologize, obviously. “Apologies, I did not mean to make it sound so accusatory. I simply find myself…curious. I believed that I knew everybody here.”

“Well that makes one of us, because I think I only know one person here.”

“Who?” he asks, wondering if this is the person that is blocking his access to you.

Though you look around the room, you don’t seem to find whoever it is. “I can’t find them, it’s too crowded in here. You already know that though, considering you just saved me from being crushed or forced to dance until I collapse from exhaustion. Thank you for that, by the way.”

Dream finds himself perturbed. Why wouldn’t he have helped you out of your less-than-ideal situation? It seems like common decency, but perhaps human society has decayed so badly that even this simple act warrants a heartfelt thank you.

“Of course. After all, I could not let one unfamiliar with those here be forced to mingle with Cluracan of the Faerie.”

He nods towards the aforementioned Fae, who is currently strutting around looking for his next conquest. Behind him trails his sister, Nuala, just as fair as her brother but decidedly a much kinder creature. She whispers something in his ear, and he merely brushes her off before continuing his search.

“By the looks of it, that would have been a fate worse than death,” you remark.

The statement, said with the confidence of someone who does not know that there are forces far beyond that which they may believe, is so humorous to Morpheus that he can’t help but laugh. How could anybody regret their time spent with Death? She is the literal oxymoron of her name; in fact, she should be the personification of sunshine instead of death.

Instead of shying away from him, because he does know that his laugh is truly horrific and thus wouldn’t blame you for doing so, you surprise Dream by grinning at the sound and looking rather proud of yourself for eliciting a laugh from him. Oh, he really enjoys this.

He’s always found himself fond of those able to look beyond his function. As he continues to interact with you, he realizes that you apparently have no clue who he is. He also realizes that talking to you is not the same chore as it is to converse with the others that are here in his realm tonight.

Before he knows it, he’s offering to take you out to the gardens and tell you the tale of how a young Will Shaxberd came to be known as history’s greatest playwright. He shouldn’t be abandoning his guests, for that’s not what a good monarch does. However, it’s too tempting to not try and have you to himself. When you accept, he finds himself thrilled for the first time since before his imprisonment.

Dream takes great pride in the palace’s gardens. Much of the flora there had long since gone extinct, and the only thing keeping them alive in this moment was the Dream Lord’s memory (or, the memories of dreamers long gone whose knowledge Dream had leached from) of when they still flourished. He was happy to share those memories with anyone willing to listen, and you were proving to be one of the most engaged audiences he had entertained when it came to his garden.

Time is a fickle thing in the Dreaming, to be certain. Hours can pass by like minutes, or minutes can be days. It’s why he tends to keep appointments in the Waking to a minimum; he loses track of time far too easily, and often needs multiple reminders that he has an obligation in a realm not his own.

Never has Dream felt Time so keenly in the Dreaming as he does when he finally looks away from the path ahead and towards you, only for Time to seemingly come to a stop. The moon shines down upon you like an ethereal spotlight while you bend just slightly in order to fully study a daisy that was last seen in the Andromeda galaxy two hundred lightyears ago. Softly, so as not to ruin it, you gently run a finger along the edges of the velvety petals. Your smile as you do so is filled with so much kindness that Dream believes he could drown in it, not that he would mind in the slightest.

Dream had experienced love at first sight far too many times for his liking. A secret hopeless romantic, it was far too easy for him to immediately see the best in any potential romantic partner and offer himself up to them on a silver platter. Indeed, he had given lovers the finest jewels or entire worlds created just for them, and every single one had ended up spurning him in the end.

Perhaps that’s why this feels so different. This isn’t love at first sight, for he certainly had held no love in his heart for the strange intruder wandering wide-eyed around the ballroom. He’s had Time on his side, allowing him the chance to actually get to know you.

And after getting to know you, Dream wants. He wants to feel the gentleness of your touch on his skin, he wants your soft smile directed towards him. He wants to hear every thought that goes through your wondrous mind, he wants to know what you like and don’t like. He wants you, in every way that you’ll allow him to have.

Time finally restarts again, and Dream notices that you’re staring curiously at him. Distantly, a small part of him wonders how long you’ve been looking at him like that. A much larger part of him admires the color of your eyes.

“What is it? Are you okay?” you ask.

“Yes, I…”

He really must stop staring at you, he knows that it’s already far past the point of politeness. Shaking his head, Dream looks back at the ball and tries to contain his emotions once more before speaking again.

“I believe I promised you a story, yes?”

Dream didn’t earn the title of “Prince of Stories” for no reason. Still, it makes telling stories infinitely more enjoyable when the audience is interested in what he’s saying. You, however, are not just interested. You’re enraptured, hanging on to every word he has to say. This, by far, is his favorite type of person to tell a tale to. The fact that it’s you, the mysterious human who somehow snuck into his palace, makes it even better.

After his tale is finished, you ask him if it’s true. He can’t help but to demur, planting the seeds of doubt even though it’s very much true. After all, if he had wanted you to know that, he would have told you outright during the story.

“And what would you do,” Dream asks, suddenly feeling bold, “were a stranger to come up to you and offer you anything you ever wanted?”

“Well, I–I guess it depends.”

“On what?”

“On who the stranger is.”

Dream really wants to kiss you right now. By the way that you whisper, and how Dream catches you looking at his lips, he thinks that you feel the same.

He leans in even closer, nodding his head slightly towards you. “May I…?”

You nod, and Dream is so thankful that you do. He’s not sure that he could bear the rejection, not when you’ve gone and made him fall in love with you so effortlessly.

Dream has seen plenty of teenagers dreaming of their first kiss. Mere children on the cusp of adulthood, their emotions are always so palpable. The fear of messing up, of getting this wrong. The exuberance of finally getting to kiss the one they have not been able to stop thinking about. The burgeoning passion of young love, sealed, quite literally, with a kiss.

Right now, as your lips just begin to meet his, Dream feels much like those teenagers. He’s terrified that he’ll move too fast or make some wrong move to push you away, while at the same time, he’s thrilled that you want to kiss him just as much as he wants to kiss you. Underneath it all, the embers of something more promise to be fanned into flames once he actually kisses you.

Before Dream can actually do that, though, he feels your lips become less real, less firm, against his. He can only watch as your body fades from within his grasp and you disappear, presumably back to your Waking body. After you’re well and truly gone, with no sign of you falling back asleep and appearing in his embrace once more, Dream can only stare at the spot you once occupied.

When Dream comes out of his stupor, his head falls to his hands in disbelief, unable to believe his truly rotten luck. He remains in this position until the sky begins to grow light and he remembers that he has duties he must attend to, duties that include politely but firmly seeing all of his guests out of his realm.

As Dream nods his head at guests telling him how much they enjoyed the festivities and thanks others for coming and accepts quiet alliances re-formed by those who had believed the Dreaming well and truly gone, he’s quite proud of the fact that he’s somehow pulled himself together enough to not currently have a hurricane that reflects his emotional state sweeping through the Dreaming proper. It doesn’t matter that said hurricane will likely begin to rage the second the doors to the palace close and the hastily-constructed dam holding Dream’s feelings back breaks from the pressure. For now, he has it all under control.

At least, he has it under control up until he walks back into his throne room to find Desire lounging at the bottom of the stairs.

“Sibling,” Dream greets reluctantly, his patience wearing extremely thin. “Do you not have the desires of my guests to chase after and feed off of in your realm?”

“Don’t you worry, big brother, I’m on my way out.” They stand and stretch in a way reminiscent of how a cat stretches. “Great party, by the way. Why, you look really bummed out for somebody who just met the love of his life!”

It should not be nearly as surprising as it is that Dream’s sibling has once again inserted themself into his life, where they do not belong. Regardless, it is as surprising as it is rage-inducing. Between one blink and the next, Dream has Desire pinned against the wall with his hands wrapped around their neck. Desire simply laughs breathlessly.

“I should have known that you were behind that,” Dream spits.

“You don’t have to say it–” Desire’s sentence breaks off with a choking sound, courtesy of Dream squeezing even harder and resisting the urge to wring their neck. “–Like it’s a bad thing.”

“I told you that, were you to mess with me or mine again, I would not hesitate to spill family blood. Are you really so stupid as to disregard our last talk, so soon after we had it?”

Desire looks frightened, and they should be. Dream truly wants to kill right now, to unmake something with his bare hands and feel the carnage that he creates. “No, no, no, you have it all wrong!” they say. “I’m giving you a gift, sweet Dream. No strings attached, nothing you have to do besides say ‘thank you, my favorite sibling’ and accept it!”

“A gift.” Dream’s hands loosen around Desire’s neck, but still remain fixed in place.

“Yep!”

“And why should I trust you?”

“Because I really am sorry, Dream. Truly. I regret how I’ve treated you, especially over the past couple of centuries. You’re a pain in my ass–just as I’m a pain in yours, I’m sure–but you didn’t deserve what I did to you, and for that, I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t believe them, a fact that is plainly clear and causes Desire to roll their eyes. When they push back against Dream, he finally lowers his hands and takes a step back.

“We’ve been siblings for long enough, and you’ve felt my influence on—how many lovers is it? Tell me, did you feel any of that on your little dreamer last night?”

“No,” Dream admits.

“No, exactly. So when I was trying to figure out, ‘how can I say sorry to my beloved big brother and truly mean it,’ I thought it would be nice of me to find out if you had a true love, who said true love was, and then bring your true love to you! You can thank brother Destiny’s little Book for helping me there; he would have never allowed me to look and see if you had a true love if it weren’t for the Book telling him to do so.”

“What?”

This comes as quite the shock to Dream. It’s one thing for Desire to try something as outlandish as looking in Destiny’s Book; it’s another thing entirely for Destiny to let them do so. As Desire said, if the Book did not tell him to do something, then Destiny would not do that thing.

“Mhm,” Desire says, looking entirely too pleased at this situation. “The universe itself wanted me to give you this type of an apology.”

If Desire had used Destiny’s Book to find you, then that means that they know your name. “So, you know…”

“Your little lover’s name? Yes, I do. Why, did you not catch it?” Of course they know that Dream doesn’t know your name; it’s what Dream wants most right now, so naturally, Desire can sense it. “Were you two lovebirds too busy flirting with each other to remember to ask for names?”

“Tell me, Desire,” Dream snaps. He winces, feeling slightly guilty about letting his emotions get the best of him. Not that he’ll apologize, since it’s apparently Desire’s turn to do so.

“Sorry, I had to tease you a little bit.”

Desire finally feels a modicum of empathy and tells Dream your full name, and a part of Dream that he wasn’t aware he was missing slots into place.

“Well, I suppose I should be off now. Lots of your party guests whose desires I have to chase after and feed off of. You know.”

They grab the lapels of their opulent fur jacket and smooth out the wrinkles that their altercation with Dream put into their carefully-created ensemble. Dream will feel even more guilt about that tomorrow, he supposes. For now, you’re the only thing on his mind.

However, Dream would be remiss to not acknowledge the effort that they know Desire put into creating this apology. He can’t let his sibling go without having them know that he appreciates it, and so he calls after them. “Desire!”

They turn on their heels. “Yes?”

“Thank you. I…accept your apology.”

Desire grins brightly and nods, which is how Dream knows they’re thankful for this acceptance. They wave their fingers teasingly before continuing on their path out of Dream’s palace. “Have fun with your present,” they say over their shoulder and promptly disappear.

Dream is finally left alone in his throne room which, at the beginning of the night, was all that he wanted. Now, with the silence only

He knows your name. Not only that, but he knows that you and he are meant to be together. It truly is the greatest gift that anybody could have given him, made more meaningful since it’s Desire who has done this.

There are a number of actual appointments on his docket that he must begrudgingly attend to, even though he wants nothing more than to rush to the Waking and find you. That would be neglectful of his realm, though, and Dream promised himself, back when he believed you to be a threat, that he would not allow you to ruin his realm.

Now, he would gladly ruin his realm if you were to ask him, which is why he’s so determined to see to everything that must be completed. Though it all feels tedious, the tasks do eventually get completed. Dream leaves almost immediately after the last report, delivered by a young dream in the form of a talking dog, is escorted out of the palace.

(Matthew is extremely confused by his boss’s sudden change of attitude. Lucienne, who’s seen this plenty of times before, simply sighs and hopes that he knows what he’s doing this time.)

When Dream arrives outside of a small restaurant, evening has already fallen in the Waking. It’s been less than 24 hours since you first made your way into his palace, a little over 12 since you were jerked back to consciousness and away from him. Truly not long, in the grand scheme of things, but it’s felt like a lifetime to Dream.

Your attention is divided between one of your patrons, telling a story about a mishap at work and embellishing just slightly, and the drinking glasses you’re pulling from a tray and drying clean. Dream can’t help but watch you in your element for a moment, but Dream is not a patient man, and a moment is all that he can afford before he steps up to the bar and across from you.

A smile is already on your face before you turn to look at Dream, a smile that freezes in place when your eyes meet his. Your hands begin to shake, and the glass nearly slips from your grasp before you manage to firmly set it down on the wooden countertop.

The shock is understandable. After all, most dreamers do not expect to see someone in the Waking that they have previously only seen in their dreams. Dream just hopes that it’s a good shock that you’re feeling, and not the one that he fears.

Your smile turns into something smaller, softer, and those fears that Dream held evaporate when you greet him. “Hi.”

“Hello.”

“It’s you. You’re real!”

After having spent a few moments trying to figure out what to say next, Dream is amused that this was what you decided on. “Did you think I was not?”

“I don’t know. I mean, it was just a dream.”

“It is never ‘just a dream’.” And today, he is so glad that this statement is true.

You round the bar in order to be on the same side as Dream, and it takes every ounce of restraint in him to not immediately gather you up in his arms and sweep you back to the Dreaming.

“I believe we forgot to properly make each other’s acquaintance last night.”

Gently, he takes your hand and kisses the back of it. By the surprised whimper that gets caught in your throat, Dream assumes that courtship rituals have changed since the last time he attempted a relationship. Interesting, and something that he’ll be sure to ask you about later.

“I am Morpheus, Dream of the Endless. You may call me by either name, dearheart, for either shall sound sweet coming from your lips.”

Though he already knows your name now, he still allows you to introduce yourself to him, if only for the pleasure of getting to see the starstruck way you look at him when he says it as if to confirm that it truly is your name. If there were any residual worries about your passion for each other not translating to the waking, those are promptly wiped away when you throw your arms around Dream’s neck and pull him to you for a kiss.

Truly, this is a new age that Dream is entirely unfamiliar with if kissing in public like this is acceptable. By the sounds of patrons’ applause, it appears that it is. What a strange new world Dream has found himself in. Not that he’s complaining. No, he’ll take victories as they come. As he brings a hand to your chin so that he can tilt your face and kiss you even deeper, he thinks that this is the greatest victory he’s ever had, for this victory has brought him you.

His own dream come true.

Desire of the Endless (again)

Desire’s enjoying their second glass of ambrosia, courtesy of the Greek pantheon, when they catch sight of Death, tight curls bouncing around her head, marching straight for them. They look both ways in the hope that there’s some other being who’s about to receive their sister’s wrath, but unfortunately, it looks as though they’re the target.

“Sister, how wonderful it is to see you tonight,” Desire greets. “Are you thirsty? Let me grab you a refreshment.”

Death simply narrows her eyes in suspicion. “You’re up to something, aren’t you?”

“What?” Desire holds a hand to their chest. “Me? What would make you say such a thing?”

“Mm, the fact that I’m your older sister and I know what you’re like when you’re up to something. You’ve had that look about you all night, the one that says that you’re just waiting for one of your plans to play out.” She nudges her sibling with her shoulder. “So? Out with it.”

“Fine. I’m in the middle of apologizing to our brother.”

“Oh gods,” Death bemoans.

“Don’t say it like that! This is a good thing!”

“When have you ever apologized to anybody for anything?”

“I apologize to Despair quite often.”

“Because she’s your twin.”

“And I’ll have you know, I also recently apologized to Unity Kincaid.”

Now that gets Death’s attention, as it should. Desire, apologizing to one of their pawns? Death might need to go check and make sure that Hell hasn’t frozen over.

“Alright, then,” Death says. “You do know that apologizing usually involves going up to the other party and saying you’re sorry, right?”

“That comes later. First, Dream gets his apology gift.”

Desire gestures across the room, where you and Dream are currently involved in some sort of contentious stare-down after Dream had come to your aid when you were being forced to dance with anybody wanting a dance. Not the best start to a relationship Desire’s ever seen, but Dream’s always liked a lover that can challenge him.

Death doesn’t see it in the same way as Desire. All she sees is Dream talking to an unknown mortal, one that Desire brought here. Naturally, she gets the wrong idea.

“Oh Desire, you didn’t!” Death scolds. “Have you learned nothing from Alianora, Killala, Nada, or any of the others?”

“This isn’t like that!”

“Really?” Desire nods. “Okay, then tell me what it’s like.”

“I simply brought the mortal here for Dream to find! Those two are doing the rest.”

“And you swear that you have done no meddling to make them have any feelings for each other?”

“Yes, I swear.”

Death continues to glare at her younger sibling, which, okay, Desire supposes that’s fair. Doesn’t mean they have to enjoy the apprehension, though.

“Fine. I swear on my function, as well as the first circle, that I have not manipulated either Dream or the mortal.”

Desire makes sure to swear on the most solemn and binding of things that an Endless can swear on, both so that Death will realize how serious they are and because they know that they’re not telling any sort of a lie.

“All I did was find out whether Dream had a true love, which he does, and then I made sure that the mortal would have an invitation to tonight’s festivities.”

Death nods, satisfied. “How did you find that out?”

“Apparently, even the forces of the universe want Dream to get laid. Destiny let me look in his Book.”

Death lets out a sharp laugh. “Oh, he must have hated that!”

“He gave me exactly thirty seconds before snatching it back.” Desire scoffs. “Not as if I could have done anything to it, considering it’s literally chained to him.”

“It’s like his security blankie!”

A harsh, frankly disconcerting laugh echoes from nearby. While others would simply shrug it off, Death and Desire know exactly who that laugh belongs to. When Death finally fails at trying not to spy, she and Desire both see Dream’s shoulders shaking with laughter. Next to him, you’re sporting a pleased grin from the reaction you’ve been able to elicit. It’s quite the sight, and most try not to look so as not to incur the ire of the Dreamlord. His siblings, however, are exempt from that bit of common sense.

“Aw,” Death coos, her eyes shining as she watches the scene.

Desire knows exactly why their sister has such a reaction. Never, even in the early days of his courtship with Calliope, which was easily the “best” of his relationships, have any of the Endless ever seen Dream smile so freely and openly towards someone. They’ve especially never seen him let his guard down enough to laugh–which is probably a good thing, because the few times Desire’s heard his laugh, it’s left them feeling a little unsettled for a couple hours after.

“So this is simply part one of your apology?” Death asks.

“Yes. I truly am sorry for how I’ve treated him, especially over the last couple of centuries. Dream would have every right to not accept my apology, which is why I’m not just giving him a simple ‘I’m sorry’. Instead, I decided to shorten Dream’s path to finding true love, and both find his true love for him and bring said true love straight to him. A genius plan, truly.”

“You decided?”

Damn their oldest sister for being, well, an oldest sister. “Despair gave me the idea.”

“That sounds more like what I expected.”

Desire’s about to go on a diatribe about how this family only ever sees the worst in them (mainly for the fun of it, not because they actually care), when Death squeals, smacks Desire’s chest, grabs their arm and points back towards the two future lovebirds.

Dream is looking up at the ceiling to try and hide the fact that he’s blushing. His cheeks are a light shade of purple, and you look absolutely besotted by the sight.

“Oh, this is going so much better than I could have hoped,” Desire says as Dream levels his gaze with yours once again, the two of you seemingly challenging each other again on something. If the Book hadn’t told Desire that you and Dream were meant to be, this interaction would surely let them know.

“Shut up!” Death smacks Desire’s chest even more when Dream holds out his hand, which you take, before the two of you begin to sneak off like a couple of teenagers.

“What did I say?” Desire posits triumphantly. “Those two are doing all the work.”

“He’s going to be right pissed when he finds out, you know.”

Desire nods, because they do know. They’re expecting all sorts of threats of bodily harm and promises to break the most sacred rule of the Endless, all so that Desire can finally get their perceived comeuppance. If Desire’s being honest, they deserve that rage that Dream will direct towards them. They just hope that Dream will actually listen to what Desire has to say.

“He’ll get over it once I explain it to him,” Desire says.

“For your sake, I hope so. Won’t be too much of an apology if he doesn’t forgive you because he can’t see the validity of it.”

“He will.” Desire’s sure of it, and they grin at their sister. “Even if he doesn’t today, they can both thank me for my hard work at their wedding.”

Desire has enough tact to keep their triumphant “I told you so” to a smug grin when, barely a year later, they find themself back in the Dreaming for your and Dream’s wedding celebrations.

#dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless imagine #dream of the endless #morpheus x reader #morpheus imagine #morpheus #the sandman imagine #the sandman

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askew-d · 5 months

Text

YIZHAN FIC REC LIST

— if you just got into the fandom, you might know switched, yizhan or yizhan through the years, so let’s go through other stuff! we’re gonna take another ride. also, if you care about this, green will be for bjyx dynamic, red will be for zsww and blue will be for lsfy. from my point of view, ofc. orange will be for the not specified, couldn’t grasp. let’s go.

• where else but home, by purplemoster — fluff story where wang yibo accidentally returns home to xiao zhan every time. super sweet read!

• ⭐️ cool boy gets a life, by saezutte — xiao zhan’s a writer and his character, cool buy wang yibo, gains life. it’s wonderful, i want a cool boy for myself. who wrote this did an awesome job.

• ⭐️ i’m not as good as you think (or as bad as they say), by ilyria — aaahh, what a gorgeous story! basically, xiao zhan becomes yibo manager and the idol, well, falls in love. there’s a sequel!

• follow shot, by cataclysms — cameraman wang yibo freaks out about idol xiao zhan. because, come on, it’s xiao zhan! we get you, boy. beautiful.

• xiao zhan’s graphic design playbook, by augmenti — this one’s absolutely gold! fantastic. xiao zhan as graphic designer and yibo as someone who thinks his prices are too small. sexual tension ensues.

• caffeine addictions and brain malfunctions, by little_passions — if you want a coffeeshop yizhan au, here’s your to-go! cute!

• query: cardiac, by iluvnaruto1412 — our radiographer technician wang yibo discovers that doctor xiao’s a hottie. there’s a whole series that’s outstanding, don’t mind the mcd in the last part, you’ll understand as you read.

• an ode to love, by spoonful_of_sugar — sappy reminiscent of their story. truly so fluffy i had toothaches the entire read.

• ⭐️ one feline war for love, by ilyria —a fierce cat becomes a human after xiao zhan saves him, and this human wants xiao zhan all for himself. so very good, i died and resuscitated. worth it.

• chef’s kiss, by jalpari — chef xiao zhan in day day for an episode and becomes enemies with wang yibo. but for a short time. love this development for them!! so well done.

• ⭐️ this is what they say, by xiaoyibao (a_storm_of_frustrations) — yibo thinks xiao zhan’s breaking up when the man’s actually trying to get married to him. comic, lovely, poetic!

• set me into motion, by deinde — backup dancers wang yibo and xiao zhan being whipped towards one another. an angel wrote this.

• ⭐️ finding yibo, by vesna (mrsronweasley) — kidfic where yibo transforms into a young version of himself and xiao zhan takes care of him. i’m losing my head. it’s great!

• ⭐️🎖️never close our eyes, series by thirtysixsavefiles — catboy wang yibo and kinda batman xiao zhan. perfect through every part. i’m flabbergasted.

• 119 my cat is struck, by serendiiii — fireman yibo, cat owner xiao zhan, you can have my heart! adorable!

• a spot of light, by akatsukishin — this is for everyone who loves a drama! delivery boy xiao zhan and successful ceo wang yibo.

• a story of others to tell, by deinde — this author has some seriously good plots. in this one, yibo pines enough to end up in cql world. extra nice!

• cut to the feeling, by vesna (mrsronweasley) — drama pa and the huge star xiao zhan. is there anything better?

• love thy neighbour, by jalpari — single dad xiao zhan and neighbour who becomes babysitter wang yibo. marvellous!

• ‘cos you make me feel electric, by chajatta — fansite xiao zhan loves his inspiration, wang-laoshi from uniq. i love this for them, genuinely.

• ⭐️🎖️ world of cultivation, by eggo — yibo and xiao zhan meet each other through a game; well, not only. hilarious! chaotic! romantic! perfect!

• gravitating towards you, by bittersweetirony — high school au with student council president xiao zhan and sports freak wang yibo, we all know we needed it.

• 181.3 cm high, by eleven14 — wang yibo wakes up high in anaesthesia. you might imagine what comes after. excellent!

• ⭐️ we are made to love, by jalpari — xiao zhan writes columns receives one letter questioning on love. aah, so poetic! definitely worth every second.

• no path better than our own, by athousandfaces — harry potter au! we’re lucky to have this gorgeous story. i had a lot of fun reading it.

• my future in your laugh, by timelykey — doctor xiao zhan falling in love with overworked wang yibo. wow, what a journey, you’re losing it if you haven’t read it yet.

• love in the time of coding, by thevoiryflute — a hacker au for yibo fits him so much, i don’t know why. just know that this perfectly-written story caused butterflies in my stomach.

• summer surf shop, by anonymous — yibo goes to a variety show and gets much more than he imagined. absolutely gold.

• pick me, pick me up, by domeneec — wrong number au for yizhan, we need it. and it’s so well-written too.

• escape velocity, redefined, by thirtysixsavefiles — i have to admit that this au of pirating away together with royalty made me suspicious at first. but after i read it, it’s so goddamn brilliant.

• 缘分 | (yuánfèn), by fyredancer — royalty au, give me more yizhan royalty. good writing, good development, good plot, had a good time reading it.

• signal fire, series by fireflavoredwhiskey — spiderman yibo! spiderman yibo! spiderman yibo! spiderman yibo! if he knew about that, he’d be happy to know that in an universe he gets to be his favorite superhero.

• ⭐️ the magic position, by sophiahelix — just a sweet, short story with yizhan being cute together and it melts my heart away every time.

• ⭐️🎖️ with joy and purpose, by feenwitch — android wang yibo living alone in a planet until xiao zhan crashes his plane there. it’s just perfect. and the writing’s wonderful.

• perfect match, by sandorara — personal ai for xiao zhan turns out to be more than he expected. gorgeous wang yibo affecting xiao-laoshi and changing his course of life. incredible!

• 🎖️ their kindred encounters, by fireflavoredwhiskey — can i have this printed, please? actually, i think there might have. it’s a the age of adeline au, xiao zhan doesn’t get old. melancholic in the ideal dosage. angst. comfort. everything.

• the ruby ox and the golden boy, series by aces_low — a mafia au that attracted me. i’m usually not into these kind of aus but aah this one… it’s unique.

• ⭐️ half is loss, half is gain, by yin_chi — celebrity xiao zhan needs a bodyguard and guess who it is? well, yeah, this story’s a blessing upon us here. i couldn’t stop reading once i began, just warning y’all. addictive, i want more.

• ⭐️🎖️ between holocenes, by fireflavoredwhiskey — this author broke the heart of so many people by just vanishing from the fandom, but ah how greatly they write and how extraordinary their works are. this is a the time traveler’s wife au and it rocks.

• fixtures and fittings, by ella_minnow — interior designer xiao zhan and motorcyclist wang yibo! believe me when i said i screamed during the development of their relationship.

• ⭐️ 为战而爱, series by anonymous — bits of sdc moments with established relationship yizhan, the works are seriously stunning.

• what i could do (if i didn’t love you), by trestle — one-night stand au with architect xiao zhan. seriously really good through and through.

• ⭐️ hand in glove, by pessoa — brat yibo; you have my heart. the development in this work’s crazy, it’s a whole rollercoaster of feelings. neighbours au!

• say you love me (again and again), by lanwuxiann — sweet story of yizhan growing up together and loving each other through every step of the way. hella soft!

• ⭐️ four of hearts (l-o-v-e me zhan-ge), by eleven14 — yibo being silly to win over xiao zhan’s heart, and of course, it works. short, but very funny and lovely.

• a head’s up, by madfilaments — xiao zhan arrives at sdc without giving a head’s up and yibo’s frustrated. a pretty satisfying thing to read. awesome.!

• 7 reasons to support your local cat café, by buttstrife — host wang yibo, cat café owner xiao zhan, a romance for the history books. they’re so very lovable.

• ⭐️ the bravest man i ever knew, by biscuitpoo — another hogwarts au! this time, xiao zhan’s a bit more slytherin-like, and it’s a whole show.

• ⭐️🎖️ so happy you could come; so happy to be here, by alex_mtg — a masterpiece! betrothed yizhan with royalty and the uniq boys and this sweet development of their relationship. just amazing! :)

• ⭐️ threads, by planet_b612 — a sherlock and watson au! it’s phenomenal! in fact, this author has only good works, so it’s definitely worthy to check out.

since i’m doing this already, might as well recommend some of my own stories, so i’ll be adding the ones i favour (sssh):

• half a bottle is enough — yizhan fight and xiao zhan gets home carrying a cardboard wang yibo. just some silly boyfriendos!

• falling; never broken — yibo has bulimia (please, be aware of the trigger warnings) and xiao zhan’s a doctor who helps him.

• a best friend and a lover — xiao zhan goes on different dates with different versions of wang yibo to look for a ‘type’. they’re both stupidly in love, your honour.

• darling you, play it cool — yizhan bodyswap au where only wang yibo’s famous though. i wrote this in 2023 and i’m the most proud of it.

• sleep tight until the moonlight — yizhan enemies to lovers where both of them spend their time being radio hosts in university :)

• whispering through dusty aisles — my au where xiao zhan’s a literary deity and yibo’s still famous, they meet occasionally and sparks fly. it’s my most poetic creation.

everyone, please remember this is my opinion! of course, there a lot of other works — famous or not — who aren’t in here. if you want to check out more recs of mine, see my bookmarks! thank you :)

#yizhan fic #yizhan #bjyx #bjyxszd #bjyx fanfic #yizhan fanfic #yizhan fic rec #the untamed #cql #wang yibo #xiao zhan #zsww #lsfy #bjyx fic rec

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wonderthor · 2 years

Text

Night and Day

a/n: I HAVE SO MUCH HOMEWORK DUE TONIGHT AND I HAVEN’T STARTED BUT FUCK THAT HERE YOU GO lmao i’ve never written an anime fic, nor have i written in fucking eons, but it’s fucktober so get fucked. i do what i want.

pairing: mechanic!ryomen sukuna x thicc!black!fem!reader

summary: you stop by your sister’s auto shop, meaning for it to be a quick visit. but you ended up being there longer than you thought and someone left quite an impression on you.

warnings: SMUT, cursing, HELLA petnames, pussy eating, fingering, rip cervix, unprotected sex, creampie, spanking, kind of corruption kink, unedited piece of shite, sukuna being a smug asshole at the end lol the end is my favorite part, did i miss something? let me know if i did

—

“finally! i’m here, thank goodness!”

you looked up from your GPS to the auto shop in front of you. you had never been here before, but it was just as your sister described it. huge, old and a bit run down, but full of mechanics bustling about in and out of the garages. and not to mention, a ton of cars. oh, and being very very far away from your town. you didn’t want to mention that even though you used a GPS, you had gotten lost twice and almost ended up in the opposite side of the state. so you decided to keep that little secret to yourself.

you parked far away from the business and grabbed your purse to head inside. inside, there was a few people sitting and waiting for their cars and a desk with a woman sitting behind it across the room. you walked up to the desk and politely waited for the woman to finish her phone call. she swiftly hang up the phone, sighed, and looked up at you with a tired expression on her face. “hello, how may i help you?”

still, as polite as you are, you smiled and said, “good afternoon ma’am! i’m here to bring my sister something that she left. she works here and her name is-“

“SIS!!!!!!” you jolted as your sister came running from behind the desk to grab you in a very aggressive hug. “oh my sweet dear sister has finally come all the way here to visit me! what a treat!”, she said with a comically large smile on her face.

you lightly giggled and said, “i’m here to bring you your wallet that you left at mom and dad’s house on Sunday. and to be honest, i’m not sure if i should be more concerned that you left your wallet all the way there or that it took you two days to figure it out.”

“oh please,” she huffed, “the reason i asked you to bring it and not mom or dad was because i didn’t feel like hearing a lecture. now gimme it.” she held out her oil-filled hands for her wallet. you went into your purse and held out her wallet only for her to snatch it from you.

“geez, what’s gotten into you sis? why are you so mean and grumpy today?”, you said with a pouty frown.

“ugh, we’re so busy today! and my head still hurts from drinking and staying up until 3am last night with my friends. i knew it was a bad idea but we were celebrating my girlfriend’s birthday and that’s what she wanted.”

“well, maybe you should make those plans on days that you’re off or don’t have to work the next day. you need to make sure you’re getting enough sleep. and not drink too much!”, you said with your hands on your hips. your sister was in the middle of rolling her eyes when someone called out for her, making her roll her eyes again.

“look i gotta go, thanks again for the wallet!”, she said as she gave you a quick hug.

“no problem, but please be a little more responsible next time,” you said lovingly but sternly, which is what your sister said you were famous for.

she rolled her eyes for the third time in one minute when someone came barging in from the door she came from earlier.

“hey! where the hell have you been? i’ve been calling and-“. the man that came in with anger in his voice and face seemed to calm down when he saw you. “oh my apologies, i didn’t know that a customer was back here”. you were shocked at how quickly his demeanor had changed and now he looked a bit embarrassed.

“oh, this isn’t a customer. this is my sister!”, your sister said as she put her hand out as if to present you to him. you shyly waved and smiled at the stranger. “sis, this is sukuna. he’s one of the big dogs around here and a meany and even though i hate to admit it, a badass.”

“more like THE big dog to you, brat,” he bantered with your sister and then turned to you with a polite smile and an outreached hand, “nice to meet you!” you kindly took and shook his verystrongandbig hand with another smile. after that, he looked between you and your sister several times. “wow, you two look very similar!”

“that’s because we’re twins, genius! we’re the exact same, except i have like 20 tattoos and she has none, her hair is longer than mine, i like to have fun, and she is uptight and constantly has her panties up her twat,” you swatted at her arm at her last statement and you both glared at each other for a few seconds.

“come on brat, that’s no way to talk about your nice and sweet twin sister!”, he said as he slightly smirked and winked at you, making you unconsciously grip the handle of your purse around your shoulder a bit tighter.

“whatever kuna, you talk shit about your twin brother all the time!”

“well that’s because he’s an idiot”, he said as he crossed his arms and you pretended not to notice how buff they were. “your beautiful sister, on the other hand, is not.”

“ugh, stop flirting! and anyway we’re really fucking busy so let’s get back to work!”, your sister said to sukuna as she tried to shove him away.

“y-yeah i’ve got to get going too. see you later sis, and nice to meet you sukuna!”, you said as you waved and walked away.

“see you later, pretty girl!”, he said as he waved goodbye to you before your sister swatted at his arm and dragged him back to the garage.

you went back to your car and took a deep breath to calm down. you didn’t know why, but you had gotten way too worked up over sukuna’s compliments. i guess it’s just been a while.

—

“ugh, this cannot be happening!”

you pulled over into a parking lot and turned off your car. you got out to pull up your hood and inspect for anything obvious. what am i doing? i know absolutely nothing about cars. you huffed and closed the hood and got back into your car. you did the next best thing and pulled out your phone, scrolling to your sister’s number. please pick up!

“hello? hey sis, i know it’s late but are you still at the shop?”

“yeah but i’m literally about to walk out now. why, what’s up?”

“my car is making a weird noise and my engine light came on, so i pulled over and turned it off. but if you’re leaving i can bring it by tomorrow”

“aw shit, really? i was gonna go to my friend’s party tonight and i’m already running late.”

“well i see your already doing such a great job of taking my advice!”

“whatever, fuck you!”

“hey, language! you know how i feel about cursing!”

“yeah, wh-“

just then, you heard some background noise and talking and some of what your sister was saying. you couldn’t hear everything but you heard “sister” “broke down” and “morning”.

“hello?”

you heard more background noise before your sister came back to the phone.

“well tonight’s your lucky night. sukuna has offered to take a look right now for you.”

you were silent for a moment.

“hello? did you hear what i said?”

“uh yeah. tell him that he doesn’t have to do that. i know it’s late and i can bring it in-“

“don’t worry about it, babydoll. just bring her here and i’ll take care of it. really, it’s no problem at all”

you clenched the wheel at his smooth voice on the phone and decided not to fight it.

“o-ok, thank you! i really appreciate it. i’m on my way right now.”

“ok, see you in a bit”

he hung up the phone and you put the shop’s address back into your GPS. pretty girl. babydoll. you forced your thoughts to be quiet as you drove back to the shop.

—

you pulled into the open garage of the shop and sukuna was there waiting for you. you got out of the car and walked over to him. “thank you so much for looking at my car for me so late! i’m truly grateful!”, you said with a bright smile.

“of course. for you, i’d do anything”, he said with another sinful smile. it made you sort of nervous and you looked around at the shop and just then noticed that no one else was there.

“did everyone already go home for the night?”

sukuna had quickly gone to work under your car’s hood and talked as he worked, “yeah, we closed up about an hour ago. when you called, everyone was starting to go home then.”

you flushed and started to feel bad. “oh wow. i’m sorry, i probably ruined your after work plans.”

“come on sweetheart, don’t make me say it again. don’t worry about it,” he said as you looked up at you as he spoke. you didn’t know what else to say so you simply nodded. he smiled and went back to work on your car.

after a minute or so, he beckoned you to stand next to him. “you see, this is what the problem was. it’s a good thing i fixed it tonight, or else you wouldn’t have been able to drive it all the back from your house tomorrow.”

“ooh, well i guess it’s a good thing i did come here tonight!”

sukuna looked at you for a moment. “you know, your sister said you’re uptight but i think you’re pretty calm.”

you rolled your eyes and a bit of annoyance came to your face. “oh, she’s always said that ever since i-“. you were about to say something that you shouldn’t but caught yourself, but he still noticed at the way your face quickly fell.

“ever since what? you can tell me angel”. you looked up at him. you didn’t know what it was, but he made you feel different. maybe it was the pet names, or how handsome he was, or how close to his face you suddenly were. but your stomach was doing cartwheels and you didn’t know how to stop it. not that you wanted it to.

“e-ever since i broke off my engagement 3 years ago,” you felt a mini weight lift off your shoulders, as you always did whenever you told someone about your past. it was a relief to talk about things instead of trying to bury it or run away from it. he gave you an expectant look and you continued talking as if he commanded your mind to. “we were engaged for a year, and 2 weeks before our wedding i found out he had been cheating on me the whole time we were together. he wanted to try and fix it but i didn’t, so i left him and here i am, 3 years later.” you didn’t realize you looked away from him and when you looked back up at him, he was staring into your eyes so intensely you swore you could feel him in your mind.

“he sounds like a fucking idiot. who would land such a pretty little thing like you and ruin it like that? if i was your fiancé, i would worship the ground you walked on. seems like you dodged a huge fuckin bullet if you ask me.” you hadn’t noticed you had stopped breathing as he spoke, and you let out a shaky breath.

“what’s wrong sweetheart? you don’t believe me? well i’m telling you the fuckin truth. you have got to be the prettiest, hottest, sexiest woman i’ve ever seen.” you don’t know how, but you both had somehow moved away from the car and he had you pinned against a table.

“i-i just d-don’t feel that way,” you looked down in shame and your face felt like it would burn you if you touched it. but somehow, sukuna’s hands could take the heat as he held your face in his hands and pulled it up to look him in the eyes.

“that’s because no one has been man enough to show you and make you feel good. please let me show you. please, please.” you were scared and nervous, because what he said was true. your ex-fiancé was the only person you’d been with and he was never concerned with making you feel pretty or important. perhaps you should have known all along. but you were also scared of this. you didn’t know if you were ready for what sukuna was offering and part of you knew it was wrong and that you barely knew each other. but the other part of you, was begging for it.

you nodded and shot out, “yes please.” before you could get your whole sentence out, sukuna had picked you up and placed you on the table and stood between your legs. he kissed you with such passion and force that you were already starting to feel breathless. you kissed him back as your wrapped your arms around his neck, your kisses getting heavier and deeper. he broke away from your mouth to kiss down your neck, sucking at the sweet spot he found. once he started kissing your collarbone, his hands started to feel and squeeze your breasts through your sundress.

“mmm, s’kuna!”, you moaned out for him, and he squeezed even harder.

“fuck babydoll! i don’t think i’ll ever get tired of you sayin my name like that.” his hand reached down lower and lower, until his fingers finally reached into your panties. “jesus! what’s got you so wet and worked up, huh angel?” he started to slowly work his fingers up and down your slit, rubbing your juices around everywhere.

“s’kuna, please, more,” you said as your eyes were lidded already. he smirked at how needy you were and slid his fingers up to your clit, rubbing in firm circles. you clenched your fingers around the edge of the table, already feeling better than anyone else had made you feel before. once he put his finger inside you, you yelped and jumped up a bit.

he leaned his head into your neck to shh you, “shh, it’s okay pretty girl. i’ve got you.” you leaned your head into his neck too as he worked your finger in and out of you. once you got used to the intrusion, you started to subtly grind your hips against it, silently begging for more. he added another finger and you whined into him. again, he worked his fingers, in and out, over and over, until you got used to it and rocked your hips against him. you heard him whisper a small “fuck”, but it didn’t phase you. any other time cursing made you uncomfortable, but right now it made your hormone levels skyrocket and your panties a little wetter. once he added a third finger, you winced and your hands shot up to grab onto his shirt. he filled your cheek with kisses as he rubbed your clit with his thumb to ease the pain.

“does that feel better princess?”, he asked as he started to rub your clit harder.

“mmmm, y-yeahhh, s’kuna please!” he worked his fingers and your clit much faster now as you gripped onto his shirt for dear life. you couldn’t focus on anything else now the breakneck speed at which his fingers were pleasuring you. your mouth was wide open at the intense feeling of your orgasm racing towards you, moans and whimpers free falling out of your mouth. you didn’t notice when he had pulled back from your neck and stared into your eyes again, but you couldn’t help but stare back into his as you were getting closer and closer. suddenly, he took his hand out of your panties and you whined out in instinct, a pitiful look on your face.

“relax princess. i said i was going to take care of you, remember? just be a good little girl and wait,” he said as he bent down and pulled your panties all the way off. he then kneeled down in front of you, hiking your dress up and opening up your legs wide for him. you started to feel a bit self-conscious and anxious as he just stared and you tried not to squirm. “fuck angel. you really are pretty from head to toe aren’t you? such a pretty fucking pussy, all pretty and perfect just for me. my perfect little sweetheart.”

you weren’t even aware of the loud moan you let out at his words, desperately making you seek friction as you tried to close your thighs around his head. he stopped you and put hands on the insides of you thighs, keeping you wide open. “uh uh doll, don’t do that. you gotta stay nice and open for me ok?” you nodded back at him and he smiled in approval. he leaned his face closer and closer between your legs and you started to have a mini panic.

“umm, w-wait!”, you said as your hand went up to his head to block his movements. he leaned back a bit and looked up at you, raising his eyebrows.

“what’s wrong baby? do you want me to stop?” you suddenly felt embarrassed again and a little angry at yourself. you were nervous, but didn’t mean to overreact so badly.

“i-it’s just that…i’ve never had anyone, u-um…,”you stuttered over your words, trying to find the best way to put it.

“you never had anyone eat your pretty little pussy before?”, he said as he gave you a completely serious and sympathetic expression. geez, why did he have to say it like that?

“uh, y-yeah,” you confessed. you were a bit sad as your thoughts got the best of you. maybe he doesn’t want to now, maybe you ruined it. maybe he wouldn’t even like- a sudden wet and firm lick up the slit of your pussy quickly pulled you from your thoughts. you whimpered in shock and looked down at that oh so sinful smirk on sukuna’s face.

he giggled slightly and said, “just hang on tight, pretty girl,” as he licked another firm stripe against you. you did just as he said, holding on tight to the edge of the table like if you didn’t, you’d fall off of a cliff. you were panting and sweating as sukuna licked you everywhere, slurping up your juices and covering every inch of your pussy with his tongue. “fuck, so fucking good. i think i could eat this sweet pussy of yours all day angel,” he said and then immediately shoved his face back into you.

“uhhhh, feels so good! s-so good sukuna,” you moaned as one of your hands moved to his hair to anchor yourself. he moved his tongue down and teased at your entrance, licking and circling his tongue and making you clench around nothing. before you could even whine out in need, he shoved his hot, thick tongue inside you. you gasped and tried to trap his head with your thick thighs again, but he threw them over his shoulders and held them down. you started to grind against his face, slowly fucking your self on his tongue. he groaned into your pussy and the vibration made your thighs clench tighter around his head. you were sad for a moment when he took his tongue out of you, but you quickly got over it once he rubbed it against your clit before sucking it tightly into his mouth.

“a-ah, shit!”, you screamed out much louder than you anticipated. in fact, you wouldn’t have even noticed you cursed if he didn’t bring it up.

he cackled teasingly and said, “i thought i heard my sweet little angel tell her sister that she didn’t like bad words? i must be really making you feel that good, aren’t I?”, all while keeping sweet pressure on your clit with his fingers.

“y-yea, so…so good,” you said dreamily. he laughed again and went back to lapping at your clit, moving his fingers down to fuck you with them again. you pulled tight at his hair, egging him on as he pushed his fingers and deeper, making them hit right up against a certain spot. you gasped and jolted up like he had burned you.

“is that it right there sweetheart?”, he said as he slammed into the spot over and over, making your toes curl.

“h-yes! yes right there please, please don’t stop!” your orgasm was barreling towards you now, your grip on his hair getting even tighter. “please i’m…i’m!”

“yeah, i got you angel. that’s right, come for me. come for me and make a mess all over my fucking face princess,” he said as he raced his fingers in and out of you, abusing that sweet spot of yours. you threw your head back and came hard, your juices flowing and gushing all over him while you yelled out for him, his fingers continuing to work you through it. when you were done, you removed your hands from his hair and leaned on them behind you, panting and trying to catch your breath. that was the hardest i’ve ever come in my life. you looked down at him and watched him slowly rub little circles against you.

“fuck, that was hot. you’re so sensitive angel,” he said sweetly before he gave little firms pats to your pussy. you whimpered and trembled at the little pats, the last one making you jump and a little more of your juices flow. he stood back up, towering over you again and bringing his lips to yours in a rough, messy kiss. you moaned as you could taste your juices on his tongue. he gravitated even closer to you until his front was touching yours. you could feel his hard member in his pants and instinctively started to grind yourself against it. he moaned into your mouth and pulled you closer to him, grinding himself against you.

“fuck, i can’t wait,” he muttered under his breath as he bent down to pull down his pants and boxers. you looked down in awe as you saw his cock spring freely up in anticipation. without thinking, you reached down and touched it, wrapping your fingers around it. jesus christ this thing is big! it made you kind of nervous, how was this going to work? he was much bigger than your ex fiancé. you guessed he could read your expression on your face.

“don’t be nervous, i’ll make it work for you ok? just relax for me. are you ready?” you nodded at his words, some of your nerves relaxing. “let me hear you say it angel.” you swallowed and took a deep breath.

“ok, i’m ready sukuna.” he laid you back against the table and lined himself up with your entrance. you looked down and your eyes widened, maybe this isn’t going to work!

“hey, look at me baby. just focus on me and relax, i’ve got you,” he said as he pushed up your chin with a finger to meet his eyes. he slowly pushed inside of you, making you whine as you never broke eye contact. you held onto the edge of the table again and he brought his head down to you, your foreheads touching. you both moaned in harmony as he worked himself deeper and deeper. it seemed like a long process, him working himself back and forth, in and out. but pretty soon, he was seated all the way inside you.

“s-shit babydoll. so fucking nice and tight for me, fuck!”, he groaned out against you. you thought his filthy mouth had turned you on before, but his whiny moans and face full of pleasure had you getting wetter by the second. he stayed still to let you get adjusted to him.

once you moaned out, “please move, need more,” he started to slowly move, in and out of you. you bit your lip as you were still overcoming the pain, trying your best to relax. sukuna bent his head down and licked and sucked at the sweet spot on your neck, finally biting down and leaving a mark, making you squeal. he then moved his hand down, rubbing circles on your clit again while continuing to tease and nip at your neck. his teasing and rubbing was worth it, because soon you no longer felt pain and all you felt was pleasure.

“m-more s’kuna, please,” you whispered into his ear. he straightened up and wrapped your legs around his torso above his waist, allowing him to get even deeper. his thrusts were now at a hard and steady rhythm like a well oiled machine.

“see baby? i told you i would make you feel good. such a good girl, taking me so well.” you whined out in need and moved your hips against his, meeting each of his thrusts. he pulled on the top of your sundress, releasing your breasts for him to play with. “fuck, look at these beautiful tits. so fucking big and soft,” he said as he massaged and squeezed at them. you clenched around him when he flicked over your nipple and he smirked. he leaned down and licked and sucked all over your breasts, making them wet and bruised. you gasped loudly as he took your nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting hard enough to make your hips move harder against him. he set a faster pace as he continued to assault your breast and your clit, your orgasm peaking over the horizon again. once he leaned up to kiss you as he grind and rolled his hips against yours, giving you deep strokes as your clit rubbed against his crotch, it was all over. you wailed and threw your head back again as you came on his cock, clenching down on him.

he pulled out of you and swiftly flipped you over and threw you down on your stomach. before you could even react or move, he thrusted back in all the way, quick to set a brutal pace in and out of you, giving sweet kisses to your cervix with every thrust. “fuuuuccckkk,” you moaned as you braced your hands on the table as you were fucked like a wild animal.

“you’re turning into such a needy little slut for me, aren’t you? my perfect little whore,” he said as his hand came down on your ass hard, leaving behind a stinging sensation. you whimpered out and he gave the same treatment to your other cheek. “that’s right baby, fucking take it. take all of it.” tears streamed down your cheeks at the intense feeling of his thrusts getting harder and faster, bruising your pussy and your cervix. he held your head down against the table and you instinctively arched your back, leaving you nothing to do but lay there and take it. he slightly changed the angle of his hips, allowing him to abuse your sweet spot over and over. you’re eyes rolled to the back of your head and your thighs trembled in anticipation.

“aw, is my sweet girl gonna come again? such a good little girl, that’s right. come all over my fucking dick for me. i know you can do it, be good one last time for me.”, he whispered in your ear without missing a beat. the nail in the coffin was a harsh bite he gave you on your shoulder, making your orgasm stampede toward you and run you over. you screamed and sobbed as you gushed and creamed all over his cock, your whole body shaking and your soul momentarily leaving your body. now THAT was the best orgasm you’d ever had in your life.

“aw fuck angel! i’m c-cumming, shit!”, he moaned out as he emptied his heavy load into you, laying his body down against your back and breathing heavily into your ear. neither one of you moved, focusing on trying to catch your breath and calming your heartbeats. you were zoned out and in another world until you felt wet kisses across your shoulder, neck, and upper back. you picked your head up and sukuna followed you, leaving kisses across your forehead and face. you looked up at him and he kissed your lips, softly making out with you. after the feeling of pure bliss seceded, he helped you sit up and pulled up your panties and fixed your sundress. once his pants were back up and zipped, he picked you up and placed you on the floor on your unsteady feet. you quickly grabbed onto his arms once you tried to stand on your wobbly legs alone.

“you okay sweetheart?,” he asked as he stabilized you with his hands on your hips.

“yeah, i think i’m fine now. thank you,” you said with another sweet smile. fuck, that sweet, innocent looking smile almost made him want to bend you over the table wreck you again.

“yeah, you’re probably not gonna be able to walk tomorrow.” his nonchalant tone as he spoke made heat rush to your cheeks and you shyly looked down. “don’t tell me your acting all shy after i just made you make a mess of my clothes.” it wasn’t until he said that that you looked him over. his shirt and most of his pants were absolutely soaked. your face felt like a furnace as you felt completely mortified.

“oh my gosh! i am so sorry! i can wash them for you, i swear!” he chucked at your worried voice.

“no need sweetheart, but there is a way you can make this up to me.”

“really? how?” he placed his hands on your ass as he lifted you up, wrapping your legs around him and holding you.

“you can promise me to give me that sweet little pussy of yours again,” he said as he leaned into your face as he spoke. your eyes widened as your tummy flipped at his words. “tell you what, why don’t we go to my house to clean up and have a nice shower. what do you say?” he was already in the process of carrying you over to his car while he was asking you.

“uh y-yeah, sure!”

“perfect! then let’s go princess,” he said as he gave you a playful slap on your ass, signaling that tonight would be more than just washing up. oh god.

“sukuna, you know it’s late and you had a busy day today and have to work tomorrow. don’t you think you should go home and get some sleep?”, you asked as he put you in the passenger seat of his car and buckled your seat belt.

he stood in the doorway and pretended that he was deep in thought and considering what you said. “yeah you’re right, i do need to get some sleep…but i also need to have you sit on my face and make you cry from cumming for hours without stopping,” he said with the most shit-eating grin you’d ever seen. your jaw dropped to the floor in shock and he simply closed the car door and laughed while he walked to the drivers side. what an evil villain.

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the-s1lly-corner · 7 months

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Hey thanks for accepting this ask. So what I wanted to ask is how the amazing digital circus crew would react to a reader who's a strong hero...that's incredibly optimistic, dense and Guilable thinking that the world acts like a cartoon/comic sometimes

TADC cast x comic hero type reader!

meant to start knocking out these last two requests earlier this morning but i had to clean up the house a bit; but im finally getting onto it! reminder that requests are currently closed and any requests sent in will not be answered and will be deleted to keep the inbox clean; so please keep your requests until i announce theyre open again! plan on taking a day or two off to rest my brain n back as well as catching up on art and my own personal fic. the requests being answered currently were sent in prior to requests closing with that said, i hope you enjoy this anon!!

CAINE:

honestly i think caine would be the same way, not exactly but i think he would some of the cluelessness in terms of how the real world works... except its mostly with the non digital real world; call it inexperience or something! lets you play hero during the IHA.. honestly you kind of fit right in with your personality, with tropes and being a stereotypical comic book hero, if not a little naïve. pretends he doesnt recognize you when you walk around in your "citizens disguise"

likes coming up with villain npcs for you to fight during adventures

POMNI:

initial confusion when she sees you just walking around with a tie plastered to your chest, asks you what its for as well as dropping your name. even more shocked that youre shocked that she knows who you are. kind of just accepts this is a thing you do and doesnt question it, especially as she settles into the digital world.. at least youre handy during IHA.. i think during my little break i might try to figure out how i wish to right pomni because i really do wish i made her stuff more... interesting

RAGATHA:

honestly i think she would make you stuff to add to your disguise. doesnt want to shatter the illusion for you so she just tries to casually give you stuff out of the kindness of her heart... which isnt... totally wrong.. honestly i dont think she would try to change you or bring up the bad disguise thing so long as its not somehow putting you in danger. in fact i think she finds your whole hero personality endearing, you guys are both optimistic and its nice to be around someone who isnt just. losing their marbles or being a dick.. plus, you arent technically wrong to view the digital world as a cartoon, i mean, look at it and look at the physics of the world and all

JAX:

oh he is going to be a menace, probably makes a joke villain persona to mess with you only for you to immediately gun for him and deal with his "evil antics",, i mean hey as long as jax doesnt put his silly little villain mask back on you wouldnt suspect a thing... maybe... i think he would roll his eyes at some of the things you say, since youre way more optimistic and out there than ragatha... probably uses your gullible..ness... as a means to trick you

KINGER:

honestly the "as a royal myself" line he dropped in the pilot makes me think that at some level he believes himself to be a real king; or maybe he was just REALLY playing into his whole theming and he knows hes just some dude but was trying to appeal to the gloink queen... what im trying to say is that i think there might actually be a solid chance he fully leans into your hero thing, and perhaps even falls for your disguise (if him constantly forgetting gangle is standing right next to him says anything about his observation skills and/or mental state)

ZOOBLE:

similar to jax but also not. finds your optimism a little too much sometimes; especially if youre very outwardly social and friendly so its not like you swoop in to do your hero duties but you also stop to talk to the 'civilians' of the circus.. though unlike jax they wouldnt try to trick you, nor do i think they would exactly be mean to you. a little irritable by your energy and attitude, maybe, but i think zooble gets irritated by almost everyone in the circus.. reluctantly plays along with your disguise

GANGLE:

i think she would be into it, probably draws you in your non-disguise outfit. you get fanart, yay! probably similar to pomni in the whole, just accepts how you are both as a person and with your antics, but i think she just accepts everything everyone else does! not much to say, shes a fan of it and if you stand up for her when jax is mean thats just an added bonus for her

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #caine x reader #pomni x reader #ragatha x reader #jax x reader #kinger x reader #zooble x reader #gangle x reader

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naviaknell777 · 10 months

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Hello again! (Gosh am requesting a lot)

Can i please request rottmnt of leo x little sister!mutant turtle! reader?

Request type: fic, comedy, platonic, happy ending.

Plot: the story is about reader who's about 10 years old, of course she's rarely allowed to get out of lair due to her age and her begin weak but god she have such sonic energy, she can't stop running, jumping..etc.

So it's obvious on patrols the brothers have to leave someone behind to babysit her & it's leo's turn, leo was understatementing babysit job as he put reader in living room to watch mlp and went to his room to read a comic book, time pass & he went to check on reader only for her to vanish, leo panic as he go get the baby tracker Donnie made for reader & he found out she's outside the lair.

So leo's job is to find reader, get her back home before his brothers find out or he won't hear the end of it from raph especially.

“Babysitting”

ROTTMNT - Leo x little sister! Reader

Notes: not proof read, and might have made it unintentionally a bit angstier than I hoped hehe. Enjoy!

“Okay, Leo, it’s your turn to babysit,” Donnie said as he played around with the tech screen projected from his armband, using it to investigate further about the wild mutant activity going on upstate.

“Oh, sure, I’ll babysit” Leo started, inching a bit closer to Donnie “But if you three get pizza afterward without me - I mean us… We won’t be happy turtles.”

“Yeah! I’ll beat you all up!” Y/N exclaimed, jumping to the conversation and now standing next to Leo.

“Uh-huh, sure, okay” Donnie mumbles, still focusing on his tech. Y/N reached up and tugged on the long ends of Leo’s mask, pulling on it to get his attention. When he looked down at her, she smiled, latching onto him and climbing up his form, pulling herself on him and climbing up to sit on the top of his blue shell.

Leo sighed, “I feel like you’ve been getting more and more rambunctious lately, [nickname]”

“Nah, I’m just growing taller” She replied.

“My calculations say at this rate she’ll be as tall as Raph when she gets around our age… but regardless, we should get going,” Donnie said, his tech screen dissipating and looking to Raph and Mikey so they can start heading out.

“Haha, I’ll be taller than you when I’m your age, Leo, you’re such a loser!” Y/N teased, letting go of Leo and falling backward onto the floor.

“Also, don’t forget to set an alarm for 8, Leo, she’s gonna need to eat by then and -“ Raph started.

“She can’t remember for herself?” Leo asked.

“Nope!” Y/N answered “Too lazy, and I don’t have a phone yet”

“Oh, and Y/N!” Mikey rushed over to Y/N, grabbing her face “do not watch the ending of season three without me, I have a sense It’ll be really good, okay? Or else I will not be a happy turtle.” Y/N simply nodded, feeling a shiver down her spine.

“Okay, see ya!” Mikey headed towards the sewer exit first, followed by Raph.

Donnie turned to Leo, “Remember to not let her on the surface, okay? The last thing she needs is to get hurt” He headed out as well.

“Pfft, Donnie can be such a stick sometimes, I know you won’t go above to the surface, especially without me, right, [nickname]?” Leo turned to Y/N.

“Well… Why can’t I go out again?” Y/N mumbled, focusing on playing with her fingers as she now said cross on the floor.

Leo sat next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder, “You’re too young to go by yourself, Y/N… you haven’t had as much training as us, if something bad happens, you won’t be able to hold your own… you know? It’d just be better if you don’t go into the city with us in the first place.”

Y/N continued to look down and just nodded, “Yeah, I get it, that makes sense.”

“Great!” Leo stood up, “Now if you excuse me, I got some reading to catch up on, [nickname]”

“Huh? You’re not gonna hang out with me?” Y/N, looked up at Leo as if the tender moment between them hadn’t happened. ‘Does he really not care…or does he not know what he just said to me?’

“Well, now that the bros aren’t here it gives me some quiet time to read the Jupiter Jim special edition issue where he fights laser unicorns on Pluto! But don't worry, I’ll be sure to hang out with you later tonight, okay? I gotta come out here to make you food anyway” He said, walking towards his room with his hands behind his head.

Y/N nodded, getting up and wiping away some loose tears she tried to hold back, “Okay, that makes sense.. I’ll just watch some My Little Pony then”

“Sounds good, [nickname]!” Leo said dismissively as he locked himself away in his room. Y/N stood up, attempting to swallow away the knot in her throat that was getting tighter. She walks over to the recliner that Splinter was sleeping on, puts the My Little Pony DVDs in, and projects it on the white screen. She sat next to her father’s chair, hugging herself as she sighed, and pressed play.

. . .

Leo grumbled when he heard his alarm for making food for Y/N go off, pulling away the Jupiter Jim comic that was on top of his phone and stopping the alarm. “Okay, time to feed the rascal…” he mumbled, taking off his blanket and leaving his room to the kitchen.

He prepared some frozen pasta in the run-down microwave, food stains, and splatters covering the appliance inside and out. “I’m making some leftover pasta for you, [nickname], Don’t complain about it, 'cause I think it’s the last edible thing in the kitchen” He yelled towards the living room, still facing the microwave as it headed up the frozen dish. He then opened the utensil drawer, “Now, do you want the big fork or the small fork? I know you love your small forks, but they’re all in the sink and I don’t feel like doing the dishes, and it's faster to eat it with a regular-sized fork, right?" He turned around and made his way to the living room,

“Heard what I said? [nickname]?” He didn’t see her anywhere. He looked around for her in the living room where My Little Pony was still playing.

“Tell me that my friends are lying to me and avoiding me because they don’t like my parties and they don’t want to be my friends anymore!” A pink character said on screen that took his attention for a second, growing a bit more tense as he continued his search for Y/N. He checked her room, and all of her brother's rooms, and reluctantly, he checked the sewer opening, seeing it left ajar a bit.

Leo smacked himself in the face, “Why’d she have to go up there of all places! Ugh if Raph finds out…” He races towards his room, getting the emergency tracker that Donnie had made previously in case of emergencies. He checked the tracker, “Where… where is that…?” He looked at the tracker, turning it upside-down and reading the text of Y/N’s location “New Jersey?! How’d she manage to get all the way to New Jersey already?”

. . .

In reality, following the train system, it was only a thirty-minute ride to a university in New Jersey, but Y/N was on the move. She jumped from building to building, albeit a bit clumsily.

“Ah, that wind feels so nice! Ah, and the stars are so pretty!” Y/N said to herself, continuing to run and smile in the process, feeling freer than ever before - the feeling on the concrete on her feet, the wind in her face, the refreshing cool spring air in her face. She stopped on the last building of the block, looking up at the stray stars that peeked through the city smog.

She took a seat at the edge of the building, tightening her loose mask and looking up to the stars. “If only Leo could enjoy this with me…”

“Why didn’t you just say that? That way I didn’t have to go on this wild goose chase to find you, Y/N!” Leo yelled from across the building, trying to catch his breath. Y/N turned around, tensing a bit seeing Leo sweaty and tired from trying to find her, seeing him hold the black device with a purple screen that was glowing light.

“What? You tracked me or something, Leo?” She said.

“You left without telling me”

“You were sleeping!”

“That doesn’t matter, Y/N!”

“You would’ve gotten mad at me for wanting to go outside the lair…”

“I wouldn’t have, I promise. But you know the rules-“

“I don’t like the rules”

“They’re there for your safety, Y/N! You’re not strong enough yet, we-“

“But I made it here all by myself and I’m fine! You guys just…” Y/N sighed and took a seat, legs dangling over the edge of the building again. Leo walked over to her, sitting down next to her. “I feel like you guys make me seem weaker than I am… I can do things too, like cook for myself, go out, at least with you guys…”

“We don’t let you cook because with your speed you spill everything, make a mess, and put a fork in the microwave”

“You guys didn’t tell me it would explode! And you leave all your dishes out for bugs to lick at, you’re messy too!”

“…okay well to be fair I didn’t make that rule, Raph did.”

“And I don’t like that Raph won’t let me do easy things, like using the vacuum and stuff!”

“I think he’s worried you’ll explode that too… we could barely afford a new microwave, [nickname]”

“Yeah… but, like, you guys don’t trust me with things. Or myself. It makes me, um…” Y/N started growing a bit more nervous, the knot in her throat coming back, preventing her from speaking.

“Sad? Is that what you mean?” Leo asked. Y/N nodded. Leo wrapped his arms around her, enveloping her in a tight hug, and she soon returned it, her eyes watering a bit.

“I’m… sorry, Y/N. I suppose we’ve just seen you as our baby sister for too long.. You’re growing up… and literally, too, I sure hope you don’t end up being as tall as Raph, that’s a bit scary to imagine. Regardless, I’m sorry… Why don’t we go home and talk about this with our brothers, okay? I suppose the rest of them, including Raph, need to realize that you’re out a baby anymore. Does that sound okay?”

His sister nodded, and slowly let go of the hug. Leo gave her a soft smile, wiping away the stray tears on her cheeks.

“Let’s go home, yeah? Before our brothers find out you snuck out, especially Raph… He’ll go bananas. It’s a long way home… I’m actually proud that you managed to get here by yourself without getting hurt, and I saw you running, I’m impressed how fast you are! How did you find your way all the way to New Jersey anyway?” He asked, standing up and taking Y/N’s hand in his.

She signed to him as they journeyed home, “I just followed where my heart took me.”

——

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nymphbunnyys · 2 years

Note

hi! I love the way you write and I was wondering if u could do Asa, Jesse, and Michael with an s/o who’s a famous (but unknown) horror game designer? Like they make all their games themself and their development set-up is in the basement

If this is too specific or hard feel free to turn it away, ur my fav slasher writer and I love ur fics ❤️❤️

Why would I turn this is away?! This is actually so cool. As someone who’s into stories and horror, at a very young age I always wanted to create games or even comics dedicated to horror so this was actually really fun to write! Also I love you so much, I’m your favourite slasher writer? Like what the heck?! I hope you like this munchkin, XO.

Also I deeply apologize for not writing as much I finally have a job again so I’ve been busy with that and saving for my PC, but I promise stuff is still coming out, I’m also in the process of trying to better the way I write sooo bare with me.

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬? 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠.

𝐒𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐨’𝐬 𝐚 𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐨 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐫

TW; none that I know of?

GN!Reader!

𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐲𝐞𝐫𝐬

- honestly I feel like Michael would think this is.. actually kind of interesting. A lot of times he’s some what impatient to get home just so he can get his way into the basement and watch you create your own little worlds.

- in a way, it helps him escape? That and he can relate due to the horror themes.. but when he watches it’s almost like he’s the character. Watching so intently as you test the game, the character making their way through corridors and flashing their flash light at sudden noises. It almost felt real. Maybe you took inspiration from your murderous boyfriend, either way he thinks it’s fascinating.

- One night when watching you code and test the game you’d recently been working on, he noticed the frustration boiling under your fingers, watching as you occasionally picked up your pencil to scribble, watching as they went back to the keyboard to pop up the coding screen and quickly going back to the game. “Michael, I’m doomed.” The man ever so slightly jumped, the comfort of the quiet now gone. He tilted his head a bit looking at you and then the screen. What could have been the issue.. it looked great. He softly cocked a brow and sat back. “I can’t come up with an antagonist for the game.. nothing absolutely nothing at all comes to mind.”

- The two of you sat in silence once more, listening to the music that played from the computer the music that was supposed to make the killer of the game come out, it’s que for the coding to jump scare the poor pixelated protagonist. But nothing could come to mind. Michael sat for a long moment and on a whim.. pointed to himself. Michael usually wasn’t of much help and didn’t care to help you with most things but this had been something he’d taken a liking to and if Michael likes it then that’s when he’ll help.

- you looked at him with a glint of curiosity in your eyes. That’s actually.. not such a bad idea. I mean.. fuck even though the man did what he did he had.. a pretty large amount of people who liked him so why not.. make a game about him.. people do it all the time.. ‘based on true events’. He was a genius. You gave a soft peck to Michaels cheek before going back to your game, creating the antagonist to be the one and only.

-Michael Myers.

-… you’ve probably fuelled his ego though.

𝐀𝐬𝐚 𝐄𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐲

- I mean. Definitely isn’t interested in games but he understands what having hobbies is and doing things to thrill you so he’s all for it. He might occasionally tell you that you should add something like this.. or that, maybe put that in there. I mean he would know right. Horror.. is what he does.

- oddly enough whenever he does this it’s almost like he’s criticizing you on how to do things but he’s not.. he just wants to help in some way, show that he’s not such an asshole and does care for your interests. But it does come across as if he’s criticizing. He Never really learned how to tap into giving good criticism.

- he likes it because he doesn’t have to worry about you when he’s at the hotel. You’re content in the basement, tapping away at you work and listening to music, and when he’s home.. it’s maybe a little too quiet. He doesn’t normally get a hug when he comes home, or a kiss. So he’ll open the basement door, bring you food and deliver a kiss to your temple.

- “eat. You’ve been at this all day.”

- quickly walks upstairs so he doesn’t have to hear you thank him for being so sweet.

𝐉𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞 𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬

- uhmmmm that’s cool, but can you maybe bring a laptop with all that stuff cuz, he doesn’t want you in the basement he wants you by his side at work.. 24/7. So if you can find a way to bring that with you then uh I’d suggest do that.

- it’s not that he doesn’t want you to do what you’re doing, your job is great he just. Wants you time.

- all the time. Even if that means you have to bring work with you everywhere you go. He makes sure that you aren’t interrupted though, he makes sure you have a comfy chair right beside him and have room on his desk to set your laptop and all your work on. He likes to set his work aside at times to watch you, ask you questions about what you’re making and sometimes to test the game.

- I won’t lie.. Jesse probably likes the idea of games, like Michael he sees it as his own world, he can be somebody else, somewhere made up.

- the amount of times you hear the text to speech from his phone to tell you to add little skulls here and there is ridiculous. But you like to the little ‘I’m so proud of you’, ‘this looks amazing dear’

- he loves your work. He is very very proud of you and how much effort you put into it.

#slasher x reader #slasher x s/o #slasher x y/n #slasher x you #slasher hcs #slasher headcanons #slasher imagines #asa emory x reader #asa emory x y/n #michael myers fluff #rz michael myers x you #michael myers x reader #michael myers x you #michael myers x y/n #jesse cromeans x reader #jesse cromeans x you

419 notes · View notes

greencways · 5 months

Text

jennifer jareau headcanons

1. ENFP

2. took dance classes when she was younger

3. will watch disney films all day if you let her

4. hates pizza and finds the texture gross

5. her favourite meal is mac and cheese

6. LOVED and i mean LOVED back to school shopping, she used to count down the days until she could go to the store

7. used to be a cheerleader before she was on the soccer team

8. sometimes reads over spencer's work and writes down specific words that she's never heard of before on a sticky note and then sporadically the next day to see if he notices but he never does, emily catches on very soon though

9. owns so many dvds that she could run her own shop

10. shops at h&m

11. wanted to be a media liaison and talk to people because she used to feel like no one listened to her when she was younger so at least she could listen in return to people who need it

12. bites her straws

13. always cold

14. can do amazing makeup, is incredibly talented at it and does it for fun so she's a pro, she also went viral for how amazing her makeup looks were once

15. allergic to nickel

16. obsessed with butterflies

17. has owned a butterfly necklace

18. had watched every single episode of buffy the vampire slayer and had a crush on faith lehane

19. dyes her hair blonde all the time (she's not a natural blonde)

20. gets a hangover if she looks at a bottle of wine wrong

21. didn't stop collecting butterflies and still collects them with her sons and loves to tell them all the different species

22. can and will sleep anywhere

23. natural brunette

24. reads marvel comics

25. gluten intolerant

26. mixes skittles into her popcorn

27. could not survive the day without a vanilla latte

28. has ocd and anxiety

29. smells like vanilla

30. drinks 8 bottles of water a day

31. favourite taylor swift album is red

32. cuts her own hair

33. always tired

34. sits on chairs with her leg up or legs crossed

35. her love language is words of affirmation

36. drinks way to much boba to a point where it's concerning

37. listens to podcasts to help relax her

38. terrible cook, better baker

39. still keeps in contact with elle, elle rang her after she stopped seeing jj on the tv and now they meet up for coffee twice a week, and elle comes to girls night when she can

40. pina colada lover

41. LOVES bereal and still does it everyday (never on time)

42. is always on aux but everyone is terrified of her music taste so they just let her

43. her phone is always above 70%

44. she is the mom friend and ALWAYS has everything in her bag that you need; medicine, pads, lipstick, money, chargers etc

45. tilts her head back when she laughs

46. twists her necklace when she's nervous

47. LOVES and i mean LOVES colouring (it relaxes her)

48. whenever someone new joins in the team she is ALWAYS the first person to show them around

49. keeps all her maternity clothes just in case someone needs them

50. her go to drink on a night out is vodka coke

51. elle bought her a butterfly necklace after she found out that she collected butterflies when she was younger and she started wearing it after she couldn't wear the one ros gave her anymore

52. when she was a media liaison, every time she would read that a case is really bad and hard one, she would bake chocolate chip cookies for the team and bring them into work before anyone notices and acts surprised when she sees them (hotch is the only one that knows it's her but no one else knows, he smiles at her subtly when she realizes how happy it makes them)

53. avid buffy stan (owns all the dvds, posters, merch) (teen jj used to write fics)

54. tells people her favourite movie is the godfather but it's actually cars (2006)

55. she LOVES british game shows and is genuinely really good at quiz shows (her general knowledge is amazing)

56. she dated a few girls in high school but elle was her first proper relationship

57. her favourite artist is david bowie and her favourite songs are heroes and starman

58. she was told that she was way to sensitive as a child and it impacted on her as an adult so she tries to teach henry and michael that it's okay to express their feelings as best as they can and that they can cry whenever they want and they don't have to keep it in

59. she kept all of henry and michael's drawings when they were growing up

60. she is a night owl but her kids aren't, so she gets up extra early because it makes them really happy

61. she doesn't like to label her sexuality and she doesn't see a point in doing so

62. babysat when she was younger but ended up loving it and wanted to be a teacher for a while

63. she loves journaling and writes to different versions of herself (mostly letters to her future self but she wrote a letter to her old self once and found it too upsetting)

64. she's a beer drinker

65. she still tells people that she has an older sister and she secretly writes letters to her but no one knows (emily figured it out when she saw her writing one once but she never brought it up)

66. she loves marvel and her favourite characters are; doctor strange, wanda, black widow, carol danvers, and spider-man (she also watches the films with henry all the time)

67. she still does those early 2000's magazine quizzes

68. she loves interior design and when her and will bought a house she did most of the work herself

69. she doodles when she's bored

70. she writes notes to henry and michael sometimes (and they write back little notes to her and she doesn't find them until she's in the bau and the team ask what they've written that day)

#criminal minds #fanfic #jennifer jareau #aj cook #jennifer jareau headcanons

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sunwarmed-ash · 10 months

Note

Roy/Jamie fic idea: just Roy being secretly obsessed with Jamie’s nipples ever since he flashed them at Roy at the gala in S1. One day in S3 or beyond, Jamie’s being a little shit and Roy finally snaps, taking Jamie to bed and declaring that he’s gonna undo Jamie just by doing all manner of things to those nipples. Jamie couldn’t be happier.

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSS!!!!! i love all the royjamie prompts I got, so I combined all three into one response!

Prompts:

Coach kink-Jamie calls Roy coach at practice to rial him up, a sequel to 4 AM

Jamie gets his nipples pierced. Roy goes insane

Nipple obsession/nipple worship

Hope you enjoy it!! I certainly had fun writing it!!

Insatiable Tartt

Ships: Roy x Jamie Fandom: Ted Lasso Rating: Explicit Tags: Nipple piercing, nipple worship, public sex kinda, bottom Jamie, Roy/Jamie's ever developing relationship, The Infamous Boot Room, hand jobs, fic under the cut and on ao3, Jamie has a praise kink, and a coach kink, PWP

‘Coach this,’ ‘Coach that,’ ‘Yes Coach,’ ‘please coach’

Coach. Coach. Coach.

In the almost 20 years Roy has been in sports he has never given the word a sexy, second thought. But then Jamie fucking Tartt, his previous business and romantic archrival-turned friends-with-benefits had to go and sob the damn title while he was posted up on Roy’s cock. Begged him, his coach, to make him cum, again and again. And now, after one night together, it’s had an almost instant, pavlovian response with his dick.

Goddamn you Jamie Fucking Tartt.

-A month later-

They've only hooked up two other times since the first time. The next time was in Amsterdam, after the little shit spent the entire evening teaching him how to ride a bike to honor his grandads memory and then took him to see a windmill because Roy had never seen one before, and then to add cherries to an already perfect night, Jamie leaned over and kissed him, taking his breath away with a simple press of lips that he hasn't felt since Keeley.

Jamie didn't kiss him for long, he actually misinterpreted Roy’s freezing as denial and started to retreat almost instantly. Roy was quick to remedy that. His hand was catching the back of Jamie’s head and pulling his lips right back down against Roy’s own, where they belonged.

Jamie and he then hauled ass back to the hostel the team was staying at and Roy fucked Jamie into the mattress. At least until Roy’s knee started acting up. But then Jamie took over, riding Roy hard into the bed for another good half hour.

The third time was after Roy’s ‘misguided though comical’ attempt at ‘teammate awareness’ with the whole dick tying thing. It wasn't all bad. Jamie had admitted that it actually turned him on. After he blamed Roy for the new pain kink he developed around his dick because of it.

That night, Roy had spent an hour tying Jamie up with the remaining red rope, binding his legs and arms away from his front so Roy had unlimited access to his body. He even tied up his cock, like a nice little present for Roy to admire and praise. Before slapping it hard with his hand while Jamie sobbed and pled for more.

“Like that, do you slut?”

“Yes Coach…” Jamie pants without a fuss.

After that last time, Roy thought he had finally gotten a one-up on the man. But evidently, he had underestimated the little shit, again. Because when Roy walked into the locker room after practice and the team was getting changed, his eyes caught a shining glint off something and someone he did not expect.

And he wasn't the only one who noticed.

“Oi boyo, when’d you get those?” Colin asked Jamie, referring to the matching piercing bars through the man’s nipples that were currently making Roy’s mouth fucking water.

Jamie smirked and tossed his shirt over his shoulder instead of putting it on, letting Colin get a nice long look.

“Long time ago mate,” Jamie shrugged. “16? 17 maybe?” Roy hates that that fact means he could have had those bars in his mouth already but Jamie specially chose not to disclose having them until today.

“Only wear em when I’m tryin’ get lucky, ya know.”

Roy looks at Jamie just in time to realize he was pointing that intention directly at him and his burning arousal and fear of public displays of affections has him shouting a familiar threat in the full locker room.

“TARTT, BOOT ROOM! NOW!”

“I didn’t even do nothing wrong this time!” Jamie whines the second the boot room door closes and Roy’s mouth is on his to silence the bitchy noise.

“Take off your shirt,” He says when he breaks apart and Jamie smiles, all the way up to his ears.

“Oh, oh, yeah, okay,” and then his shirt’s off and Roy’s hands replace it, running over every inch of skin he can reach before settling on what he really wanted to see. The silver and blue barbells through each of Jamie’s dusky brown nipples.

“It's a good thing these aren't new,” Roy says, and before Jamie can ask why, Roy’s mouth is latching over one, biting into the pec hard before soothing the bite with a suck and several pointed licks around Jamie’s nipple.

Jamie’s painful shout morphed into a pleased whine with the attention to the piercing with his tongue and Roy was happy this was making Jamie as crazy as its making Roy. He's admittadbily been obsessed with Jamie’s nipples since that little tart decided he was too good for a shirt at the charity auction.

“Roy, please,” Jamie whines, breaking Roy out of his thoughts and back to the current moment.

“No,” Roy growls against Jamie’s skin, and it makes Jamie’s cock twitch against their bodies. “Address me right if you want something,”

“Coach,” Jamie whimpers, quickly entering the matter phase of melted goo in Roy’s specially crafted hands.

“There's a good boy,” Roy praises, and Jamie melts even farther with a pitiful whine. “Shouldn’t surprise me you have these pierced. Actually a little cross you didn't tell me sooner.”

Jamie’s eyes open and bore into Roy’s. There’s too much there to attempt to process it all.

“Wanted to surprise you.”

“Suprise me? Why?”

Jamie flushed pink, now avoiding his eyes.

“Don't know... Thought maybe you'd like them. Do you?”

Roy raised his eyebrow before grabbing Jamie's hand and holding it against his own cock.

“Does this answer your question?”

Jamie hums and his eyes flutter and he nods.

“Fuck me?”

Roy shakes his head.

“Can’t here Sweetheart, as much as I want to. But I can keep this up, probably make you come apart without even touching your cock. Would you like that?”

Jamie’s whines don’t contain actual words. He just nods and reaches out for Roy, pulling him close so Roy can bite and lick across his chest any way he wants to.

Roy does. He loves the way the metal feels against his tongue, how much it makes Jamie gasp and squirm when he just barely scrapes his teeth across the hardened flesh. Loves how loud he cries when Roy bites him so hard it’ll leave marks tomorrow.

Jamie’s cries get pitchier when he sucks around Jamie’s nipple, licking the piercing balls on either side with his tongue, Jamie's hips thrust forward, bumping against Roy’s thigh and pulling another moan from the younger player's lips.

“Coach, please,” Jamie begs and Roy moves up from the hickied and bruised chest to Jamie’s lips, biting roughly into his lower lip.

Jamie whines and Roy chuckles, soothing his cries with another deep kiss.

“What do you want Jamie?”

“Make me cum, please, I’m close.”

“That all?”

“No,” Jamie huffed.

Roy’s playful tug on Jamie’s piercing with his teeth had the younger man humping against Roy’s thigh now.

“What else then?”

“Want you to fuck me, at home. You can tie me up again if you want.”

“You really liked that huh?”

“Your fault, you put the image in me head.”

“Something tells me you have the capacity to think devious thoughts up all on your own,” Roy laughed before slipping his hand down the front of Jamie’s track pants and gripping his hard cock tight.

Jamie’s retort died on his tongue and his hand shot out for Roy, pulling his head forward and mouth back onto his chest.

“Fuck, touch me, please,” Jamie pants and Roy goes to work. Jamie wasn’t kidding, he was getting close. Most of Roy’s hand was now slick with Jamie’s precum.

The younger seemed to really like when he bit hickies into his chest Roy continued his pointed assault, squeezing the head of Jamie’s cock the next time his pumping hand reached it.

“Fuck-” Jamie cries and it’s all over. His thighs tremble below Roy’s hand as his orgasm pulses through him. Roy’s hand gets slicker but he doesn't stop pumping. Not until Jamie’s pretty bite swollen lips beg him to.

Roy pulls his hand out of Jamie’s pants and uses his clean hand to pull the man forward, kissing him back down after an intense, public, orgasm.

Jamie hums under the kiss, slumping onto Roy’s chest and giving him all of Jamie’s body weight to support while he came back down to Earth.

“Are you still hard?” Jamie asks after a couple of minutes, and Roy chuckles at the ridiculous question.

“Course I am.”

“Still wanna tie me up? We can go, like right now. If you wanna.”

Roy chuckled before kissing Jamie again.

“Insatiable tart.”

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bundrops-n-fluffytops · 1 year

Text

Welcome Home Agere Fic - Sleepover

Characters: Barnaby B. Beagle, Wally Darling, Home, slight mention of Sally Starlet

Setting: Home (kitchen, living room, bedroom, hallway, bathroom)

Premise: Wally is confident that he can handle things on his own, but one bad night makes it clear that he isn’t all that self-reliant. That doesn’t mean it’s bad, however, as his best friend Barnaby has all the help in the world.

Authors Note: My second fic!! Again treat it nicely, I’m new to this

Also thank you for enjoying the last one!! I’m super proud of both of them, so I’m glad you like it too 💕💕

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

As friendly and amiable as Wally Darling was, he sure was stubborn.

Wally wasn’t someone to ask for help much, despite his efforts to help others. It seemed comically hypocritical if anything, with the irony behind it.

For example, if Sally were to ask him to lead in a play she wanted to play, he would make sure he carried the show with his own hands. However, if someone were to offer a hand in something, he would simply wave his hand and say, “No no, I can take care of it! Don’t fret over such small things.”

His best friend - Barnaby B. Beagle - took notice of that quite well, when he and Wally decided to have a sleepover.

The two had done just about everything together that day; prank calls on the other neighbors, baking a new recipe - caramel apples - and even future telling, albeit with paper crafts and silly myths. Of course, in the end, they both had lots of fun, vowing that they must do this more.

It was later that night that issues had began to rise. The two nighttime buddies had began to clean up and get ready to snooze, and were in the washroom brushing their teeth(?).

“Wally, kid, are you sure you can sleep on your own? I know you’ve done it before, but most of the time you either stay up the whole night or wake up-“ Barnaby questioned Wally. Yes, it was a silly, silly question, but he wasn’t unfamiliar with Wally’s ungodly night schedule. And with how frequent this was, neither were the other residents of Welcome Home.

“Barnaby, I admire your concern greatly, but I do think that is quite silly. I can sleep just fine,” Wally assured, waving his hand up and down.

“One or two bad nights won’t do anything, I can handle it!” He chuckled. Wally was well aware of the terrible night terrors he had, but he of course wasn’t ready to admit that. He just leaves with his same pleasant grin.

“I dunno kid, you usually say that then turn up at Julie’s doorstep wrapped in your blanket sniffling like it’s winter again,” Barnaby quipped back, laughing at his own joke. Wally fell silent for a moment, thinking for a short second, before cleaning his mouth of the toothpaste on his cheeks. He then turned to his blue buddy, and pat him on the arm reassuringly.

“I know you’re upset, but I assure you I’m fine. When anything happens, I know that I can always rely on you, so don’t you worry your pretty little head,” he reassures, his ever-so present grin almost glowing on his face, and in his eyes. He always had such a sunny, polite disposition.

“Ahh, if you say so little buddy,” Barnaby sighed and shook his head, though with a playful smirk on his face. He pat his much tinier friend and walked away towards the guest room, peaking out quickly to say his goodnights with Wally. Afterwards, he closed the door behind him and laid down on top of the bed…right after he pulled the sheets and pillows around to make it comfortable. Dog instincts never fail.

Home fell into a peaceful slumber shortly after, and the only sound one could hear was the crickets outside and Wally’s silly “I’m sleeping I’m sleeping I’m sleeping” sleeptalking.

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

Barnaby wasn’t sure what woke him up, but his tired eyes soon fluttered open. He groaned, irritated, and rubbed his eyes to better clear up his vision.

The clock read 3:41 AM, which sent Barnaby in a sleepy tizzy. What in the world woke me up this early? He yawned and stretched his body, shaking his head awake afterwards.

“A glass of water might help clear my head,” he guessed, “my throat is drier than an old queen!” He chuckled to himself afterwards. He might use that in his routine. But before that, he needed to quench his thirst.

It didn’t take two steps out of his room when he heard something… odd. His ears raised a tad at the sound, turning his head behind him. Was that… a baby crying?

There was no way he heard a baby. But it was so clear and the pitch was the same, he was thrown for a loop. And what in the world was a baby doing in Home? He didn’t remember there being one… unless it isn’t one. Barnaby wracked his brain for another idea of what the source of the crying could be…until he remembered.

“Wally has nightmares!” He realized. At that moment, he rushed towards the true source of the sound - Wally’s bedroom. It wasn’t far from his guest room, as it was set at the tail end of the long hallway, capped with a red wood and a sign that said “Wally.”

Barnaby didn’t think to knock, which he somewhat regrets, before he quickly pushed the door open.

There sat the culprit of the mysterious crying - Wally, wrapped around his blanket, sobbing and hiccuping in bed. He jumped a bit at the sound of Barnaby barging in, falling silent in surprise. However, it didn’t take long until he went back to crying, only this time he held out his arms towards the tall blue dog.

Barnaby was no stranger to this behavior. He has seen Wally in this sort of situation, where his brain seemed to work much differently. It was called… regression, where his brain and his age didn’t seem to match up for a period of time. In times like this, Wally would have a habit of babbling and slurring his words, as well as taking part of childish behaviors such as playing with smaller toys and looking up to others as his caretakers. It wasn’t a problem though, no sir, as they would be more than welcome to help take care of him in such a state, Barnaby included.

With that, Barnaby quickly climbed into the bed with Wally, scooped him up and held him against his torso, patting and rubbing his back. Wally quickly wrapped his arms around his neck and buried his face into the taller friend’s shoulder, still crying.

“Deep breaths, kid,” Barnaby whispered, “there you go, that’s it.” He would act as the big brother towards Wally when he regressed, carrying him and playing with him to help him through such a time. Because of this, he knew what actions to take in this.

Soon, Wally’s crying and snuffling soon quieted to an occasional hiccup and wipe of a sleeve. He laid there, cradled against Barbaby’s chest, shaking but breathing slowly. He was the first to speak.

“I…I’m sowey…” he wavered, “I’m sowy I like tis.” He tried wiping away any stray tears while flapping his free hand, calming himself down.

“I din’ wan yous to worry fo’ me, bu’ I keep makin’ yous worry..” He was having a hard time keeping his voice steady, and he ended up going back to crying, albeit softer. His taller friend immediately rose a hand to wipe his newly fallen tears, propping his head to face him.

“No Wally, don’t ever feel bad for wanting help,” the blue dog reassured, “even if it makes you feel weird. I know that asking is hard and that you don’t want to look weak or anything, but there is nothing wrong with needing a helping hand. You got that, kiddo?” The tiny puppet nuzzled against Barnaby’s paw, hiccuping a tad.

“Wh-what if is sometin’ you can’t do?” Wally asked. The comedian chuckled a bit, rubbing the puppet’s back.

“Well then I’ll tell ya! I’m not gonna be silent if you’re giving me something hard to handle, and even then I tell ya you’re not hard to deal with at all! Just ring me up and I’ll be there quicker than a toupee in a hurricane.” He moved his hand to ruffle his hair a bit, letting out a small giggle in Wally.

“You’re silly! Silly silly puppyyy, hehe!” Wally reached his hands up to pet the top of Barnaby’s head, back and forth. The comedian responded by grabbing Wally by the sides and lifting him to the air, the puppet squealing with delight and surprise.

“There ya go, now the dog’s got you on a leash, hahaha!” This only made Wally screech and laugh even more, waving his arms and legs aimlessly beside himself. This teasing unfortunately didn’t last long, if the loud creaking from Home said anything. Despite Wally pouting in response, Barnaby lowered the small puppet down onto bed once more.

“Let’s get ya back to bed buddy, ok?” Wally frowned at this, seeming upset again that the fun was over. “Is something wrong?”

“Nono, jus… can you stay wit’ me? I don’ wan to be awone…” Wally pleaded, holding the puppy’s paw tightly. Barnaby hummed and nodded, understanding his disarray.

“Of course, buddy! Lemme get comfortable for ya, one sec,” Barnaby answered, yawning afterwards. It was still quite late, so he was getting quite sleepy as well. He turned and trotted along the bed, pushing around and covers to get comfy before finally lying down. Wally followed suit, encasing himself in his favorite blanket - orange with white flowers - and lying against Barnaby’s body.

“Nini, baba… I luv oo,” Wally mumbled, before sticking his thumb between his lips and falling silent. Barnaby smiled warmly after that, before lying his head down to rest too.

“Gnight kiddo, love you too.”

#gwaaaaaa little Wally #I’m scared i portrayed him incorrectly here #please give me any sort of critique needed!!!#it helps a lot #Also create more agere content for welcome home pls #welcome home arg #welcome home #welcome home puppet show #welcome home wally #wally darling #welcome home barnaby #barnaby b beagle #welcome home agere #agere positivity #agere fic #agere #sfw regression #sfw agere #gummunity fics

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bettathanyou · 8 months

Note

Can you do one where the reader has period cramps and Cedric like gets them their favorite food, blankets and other things that help, just helps them out in general and spends time with them (I am totally not having period cramps myself rn)

I'm officially breaking my rule of answering asks in order because I'm going through the same thing right now and need this fic just as badly.

ALSO YES Cedric would be an absolute champ with comforting someone with period cramps- between his mother and his sister, he's picked up a thing or two and would just be the perfect partner to rely on ❤️ I hope you enjoy!!

((Side note: dunno if your cramps get as bad as yn does in the fic, so sorry if this is a little too much- but I'm writing cramps from my own experiences 🥲😩))

((Double side note, heavy flirting and kissing at the end of the fic, I hope it's not too much! ;; ))

Raspberry Tea, And You

A gender neutral fic between the reader with period cramps and Cedric the sorcerer!

Your day started like any other, except today you had the misfortune of waking up to a dreadful surprise. Mother nature had paid you a bloody visit, and was now here to stay for at least seven days of torment. Sighing in contempt, you dutifully took care of yourself and tried to go about your day.

You managed to get through your tasks set out for the day, but barely. It was almost comical how instantaneous the cramps begin as soon as you notice you're bleeding- and they weren't exactly manageable either. Besides the dull ache in your belly that always lingered the background, random bursts of sharp, acute pain would steal the breath from your lungs and leave you kneeled over like you had just been stabbed and gutted like a fish.

So, to say that your cramps hurt was an understatement.

At the very least, you knew that your day could be salvaged at least by visiting your loving partner, Cedric. You both always meet at the end of the day to spend time together, and you couldn't be more excited than now for a distraction.

Just thinking of his soft, sweet smile as he peeks from his tower door to see you momentarily makes the pain in your stomach turn into butterflies. The moment is rudely interrupted though, as your body brutally reacts to yet another cramp.

Your body tenses again as you withstand the feeling of sharp, jagged claws ripping down your stomach and into your pelvis. Cursing, you try your best to take in a breath and wait for the crippling pain to pass again. You come to regret that choice instantly as you inhaled; now, it felt like you just swallowed a hot coal that burned its way through to the pit of your stomach.

Hissing in pain, you could feel the common tears of frustration building behind your eyes.

"Fucking hell, can I please breathe?!" You cried out through gritted teeth, your knuckles white as you gripped your clothing in anger.

Almost mockingly, it seems your body actually listened to your pleas for once and the pain began to subside again. Rolling your eyes, you exhale sharply through your nose and begin your march towards Cedric's tower. You knew that the reprieve from your cramps wouldn't last long, so you walked as briskly as you could through the winding corridors of the castle.

Finally reaching Cedric's staircase, you felt your muscles unwind in relief at the familiar sight- that is, until you gazed upon the ascent you had to make to reach cedric's door.

It was hard enough to walk on a level surface, let alone on an incline that's curved as well. You feel your skin crawl with dread as you let out a groan.

"Ugh... He's so lucky I love him," you whispered bitterly to yourself. Putting one foot in front of the other, you shockingly managed to climb the stairs without much incident. You smile to yourself, taking it as a sign that seeing Cedric was the right idea all along.

Your knuckles tap on the heavy wooden doorframe, the same pattern as always when you come to see Cedric. Your heart flutters as you hear his footfalls bounding towards the door, and you're welcomed by a happy smile and the warm caramel colored eyes of your favorite sorcerer.

"(y/n)!" Cedric exclaims in a happy tone, and you greet him with a needy embrace. You squeeze his waist, already burying your face into his chest to inhale his scent. The earthy, flowery smell of dried herbs mixed with the sweetness of lab chemicals and contrasted against the slight bitterness of smoke tells you that Cedric spent his day brewing potions- the thought of it already bringing a smile to your face.

"I was just about to come looking for you, my dear. You're late, you know."

Cedric mumbles teasingly into your neck, feeling his lips forming into a smirk as he talked. You scoff in amusement, but feel a little self conscious about being tardy due to your cramps.

After another moment in each other's embrace, Cedric breaks apart from your hug to grab your hand and swiftly place a kiss on your knuckle.

"I'm sorry I was late, love." You reply with a weary sigh, intertwining your fingers together with Cedric's gloved digits. You squeezed his hand in apology, looking up at him sincerely.

"No need to be sorry- I was only joking." Cedric tutted, his free hand reaching out to cradle your cheek. You hummed in response, acknowledging his words but still feeling a little guilty. Cedric notices your mood shift, stroking your cheek with his thumb gently as he tries to scramble for the right words to make you feel better.

"Well... I was half joking, I suppose- because I was actually going to go look for you." Cedric clarified, gazing at you with shining golden eyes full of love.

"Oh, I certainly believe that." You chirped back with a chuckle, and Cedric joins in on your laughter. Just as your laughter died down, a sharp blade of pain erupted from your lower abdomen, stealing the breath from your lungs as you were so caught off guard from the sheer intensity of the pain.

Your body folds into cedric's lean frame for support, almost knocking him over. Luckily, Cedric's reflexes reacted in time to catch you and steady himself. He felt your fingers clutching on his robe in a death grip, matching how his heart felt gripped from panic at your unexpected collapse. Your body jerks as you clutch your stomach, knees dropping instantly to the floor as you gasp sharply to regain oxygen.

"(y/n), what's wrong?!" Cedric cries out, his voice wavering as his eyes immediately scan your body for any visible signs that could lead to your distress.

You shake your head in response, biting hard on your lip as the echoes of agonizing pain reverberate through your core- feeling the familiar pain of a hot knife digging straight down your stomach and ramming against your spine.

Cedric asks you again what's wrong, his voice clearer and more assertive this time. It's enough for you to find your voice again, and through gritted teeth you push through your pain to answer him.

"Cramping...!" You managed to croak out, your eyes briefly meeting Cedric's in hopes he could understand what you meant.

His cognac irises flickered in recognition, his panic rapidly dissolving as a steely determination took over his features. Immediately, Cedric shrugged off his plum stained robe, draping the heavy silk garment around your shoulders. His body heat lingers in the fabric, and coupled with the weight and softness of the silk, instantly makes your body relax in a deep sigh of relief.

"Thank you," you spoke softly, but Cedric was already off the floor and striding towards a drawer you know he keeps a surplus of potions in. Looking for a distraction in the midst of your pain, you watch as he curses and mutters incoherently while rummaging through the various bottles.

You hear the glass bottles clinking aggressively, slowly getting annoyed with the extra noise. You cover your ears with Cedric's robe to muffle the stimuli; the noise he was causing was starting to bother you more than your cramps.

"Cedric- what are you doing?" You snapped, your eyes boring holes into his back. He turns back to you, a triumphant smirk on his face as he kneels down to your level.

"Sorry for the noise, darling- but this-!" Cedric pauses, uncorking the bottle with a practiced hand.

"This will help ease your pain immediately, I promise." Cedric gently holds out the open vial to you, and you cautiously take it into your hands. You stare down the potion, a million questions zipping through your mind but unwilling to care about any of them in your current state.

"I drink it?" You asked quickly, and Cedric nodded eagerly. You bring the potion to your lips, chugging it down as quickly as you can. As you expected, it tasted extremely bitter and herbal, making your body shiver in disgust as you swallow the liquid.

However, as you feel the potion move down your throat and settle into your stomach, Cedric's promise rang true. The stabbing pain turned into a dull throb, fading out as quickly as it had come.

"It worked...!" You exclaimed in shock, scoffing in amazement as you looked over at Cedric.

The sorcerer nods, a thin smile tugging at his lips at your reaction. You knew this smile all too well; Cedric was hiding something from you.

"What's wrong?" You questioned, your heart rate increasing.

"The potion won't last long, I'm afraid- only a few hours." Cedric replies in a dejected tone, but before you can respond to Cedric he speaks again.

"Although, I could give you the excess potions I do have- and I can brew you more as needed tomorrow, of course." He taps a finger on his chin as he thinks, and you see the cogs behind his eyes begin to turn. His eyes now have that signature spark- that flash in his beautiful amber pools every time he talks about potions.

You crack a smile, letting a small laugh escape you as you gaze at the sorcerer.

"What?" Cedric cocks his head at you in confusion, a strand of the man's silver bangs falling into his eyes.

"Nothing..." you start, shrugging your shoulders lazily as you stare at Cedric.

"I just... adore that look in your eye when you talk about the things you love- like potions." You respond with a sheepish smile, extending your hand to tuck the lock of hair back into place; leaving you with an unobstructed view of the warm brown eyes you love so much.

Cedric's cheeks become dusted in a dark shade of pink in retaliation, with his ears already turning red. He stutters as he tries to formulate a response, and it only makes your smile grow wider.

"W-Well... I'm talking about potions right now, yes. But I'm thinking of you, really." Cedric admits slowly, rubbing his face shyly as his eyes dart from you to the floor.

Now, it was your turn to be the blushing, speechless mess. Attempting to regain your composure, you make a move to get up from the stone floor of Cedric's workshop. Cedric automatically extends a hand to provide an anchor, and you gladly take it. With you back on your feet again, without any pain- it felt incredible.

You open your mouth to thank Cedric again, but he interjects with a quick "are you alright?" as his eyes search yours for any signs of discomfort.

"This is the best I've felt all day! Thank you, Cedric." You proclaim with earnest, and you witness Cedric's whole body sag as he sighs in relief.

"I'm glad to hear that, (y/n)." Cedric says lowly, his voice like velvet as he speaks your name.

"Oh- did you want your robe back?" You asked politely, although you were secretly hoping he'd let you have it for tonight.

Cedric hums in amusement, his eyes casting a sideways glance your way with a carefully arched brow.

"Do you even want to give it back?" He asked in a sarcastic tone, a smirk spreading across his lips as he already knows what your answer will be.

"...No, not really." You admit with a devilish laugh, hiding your face within his robe. Cedric laughs heartily at your reply, shaking his head in disbelief- which makes you laugh harder.

"Alright now- off to bed, you thief." Cedric playfully chides you, shooing you off with a gloved hand.

Straightening your posture and offering him a firm salute- which was met by a dismissing eye roll from Cedric- you slink off to Cedric's bedroom to lay down and get comfortable. Sighing into his bedsheets, you let the plush mattress and soft pillows engulf your form as you stare up at the ceiling, waiting for Cedric to join you.

Not long after you laid down, a sweet smell smell wafts from Cedric's workshop.

Almost like... raspberries? Your curiosity at what your partner could possibly be making at this hour tempts you to investigate, but the exhaustion of having to deal with the pain you experienced today kept you glued to Cedric's bed.

You close your eyes as you listen to Cedric's footsteps pace around his tower- along with the sounds of objects being jostled around. This went on for about five minutes, before you heard Cedric approaching the room you occupied.

Cracking a smile, you prop yourself up by the elbow as you watch him enter the bedroom.

The first thing you noticed was his change in attire.

The magenta vest he wore on top of his dress shirt was gone now, most likely tossed somewhere on his desk or chair in the workshop. His dark green dress shirt had its sleeves neatly rolled up to his elbow, and the signature yellow bow that was tied at Cedric's throat was now undone and tucked away on his left shoulder.

"Ready for bed, I see?" You cooed, beckoning him over to your side with a wave of your hand.

"Not quite, dear." Cedric says with a wink, turning his back to grab a few extra blankets from the closet.

Your brows furrow into a light frown, unsure why Cedric would need more blankets than normal- it wasn't particularly cold tonight, and blanket on the bed was usually enough for you both.

"If you're feeling cold, Ceddy, you can have your robe back, really; I don't mind-" you offer quickly, already tugging off the dark purple socerer's robe from your shoulders.

"That's not necessary, (y/n); I'm getting these for you." Cedric cuts you off, turning around with his arms full of the extra soft and fluffy blankets he keeps tucked away.

"Oh-!" You exclaimed in surprise, your heart melting at his thoughtful gesture.

"Thank you, love, I appreciate it; do you want help?" You asked tenderly, but of course the silver banged man shakes his head no. He sets down the blankets at the foot of the bed with a huff, then straightens up and snaps his fingers.

In the blink of an eye, the blanket that was already covering you was magically switched with the blankets Cedric dug out from his closet. You gasped at the casual display of magic, clapping in joy and to show your gratitude.

Cedric chuckles, but shakes his head at you in disaproval. He raises a hand in the air, signaling you to stop.

"While I do love your enthusiasm, darling, I ask that you hold your applause until the show is over." Cedric bows to you politely, but his beautiful caramel eyes never leave yours. His irises sparkled with untold promises, and it made your whole body light up in happiness.

"There's more?" You asked dramatically, eyes gleaming with excitement.

"Of course! No one goes to bed without a snack either, right?" Cedric pulls his wand from his pants pocket, pointing it towards the nightstand that is next to your side of the bed.

Your eyes track his wand, and in turning your head, Cedric speaks aloud a magic spell that you know vaguely teleports objects.

Now sitting on the nightstand was a wooden tray carefully decorated with your favorite snacks, surrounding a large teapot that emanated the lovely raspberry scent you smelled just a few minutes beforehand. Side plates of sugar and honey to go with your tea sat next to the pot, with a delicate porcelain teacup waiting to be filled next to it.

"You made me raspberry tea for my cramps!" You gasped, immediately filling your teacup with the fruit scented tea.

"How did you know...?" You gestured at the teapot, your eyes flicking back to Cedric as he rounds the corner of the bed to sit beside you.

Cedric shrugs, leaning towards you to rest his chin on your head.

"You pick up a thing or two, living with a mum and a sister. I was always the one in charge of making it at home, especially when neither of them could get out of bed to make it themselves." He replies wistfully, smiling to himself at the fond memory.

"I see..." you nodded in understanding, smiling to yourself as you picture Cedric as a child making tea for Cordelia and Winnifred.

"You're amazing, Cedric." You say sweetly, your heart filling to the brim with love and endearment for the man sitting next to you. You nuzzle your face into Cedric's neck, smiling so hard your cheeks were starting to hurt.

"So, can I clap now, or...?" You ask with a small laugh, and you feel Cedric's chest vibrate as he chuckles at your question.

"Sure, when your hands aren't busy." The sorcerer teased, pointing at your teacup you held in your hand.

"Ah- you're right. But, in the meantime..." you trailed off, a sultry grin spreading across your face as you leave your sentence hanging in the air.

"In the meantime...?" Cedric parrots back, his face dipping to your level to give you a questioning look.

"My lips are unoccupied, at least. Would a kiss suffice instead?"

You asked the question with feigned innocence, batting your eyes up at the silver banged man with a smirk.

Cedric's pupils dilate as he gazes down at you, his fair skin flushing red and his eyes glancing between your (e/c) irises and your lips.

"I think it would be more than just sufficient, (y/n)." Cedric's voice drops to almost a whisper, his hand cupping your cheek to angle your face more towards him.

He swiftly catches your lips into his own, the both of you exchanging slow and lingering kisses that made the rest of the world melt away for a moment.

Finally breaking apart for air, you collect yourself by finally taking a sip of the hot tea that still remains in your hand.

"The tea is good," you commented, humming in satisfaction.

"Can I have a taste?" Cedric asks nonchalantly, and while you found his question a little odd seeing as he would know what this tea tastes like, you still indulge him and turn to offer your cup.

However, you're completely caught off guard by his lips meeting yours again in a quick kiss. Before you could blink, Cedric pulled away with an impish grin and the familiar honey glow of blush on his cheeks.

"Hey- you stole that kiss!" You protested, swatting Cedric's arm playfully.

"Yes, I did." Cedric nods seriously for a moment, before playfully swatting your arm back.

"Just you stole my robe, hm?" He says with an affectionate smile, his eyes flickering with humor.

"Alright, alright- I'll give it back tomorrow."

Cedric laughs, and it sounds like music to your ears. You drink in the sight of his smile, the way his eyes crinkle and how his eyes instantly light up.

You then cast your eyes downward into your cup of tea, seeing your own smile in the rippling reflection. It almost made the events that happened today feel like a bad dream that has already faded to the back of your mind.

Bringing the porcelain to your lips, you finish your drink with only one thought in your mind.

Right now, I have all I could ever want- raspberry tea, and you.

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