#I mean he's also from the future so I'd be surprised if he didn't

[fierykitten2]

I just wanna say: Robert comforting Falcon after an autistic meltdown/shutdown

[covetyou]

egg hunt

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: oral sex (m! receiving), balls, questionable use of sex toys, semi-public blowjobs, eggs, Joel is a giant bunny, feelings, misunderstandings leading to angst. word count: 5.9k summary: Catching Joel dressed as a giant rabbit in your backyard wasn't on your bingo card for things to happen to you this year. But, what waits for you beneath the bunny suit, and in his basket, aren't the only surprises you'll have tonight.

A/N: truth be told I find eggs genuinely, criminally funny in every possible way, as well as disgusting, so happy Easter!

These egg things are hilarious, but also not nearly as fun as they seem, though if I'd had the genius idea to stick 'em on some balls I imagine I would've had a much better time tbh.

follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future fics

You almost don't notice, too busy shoving your cup harshly against the ice dispenser before taking a long, deep, gulp of the cold liquid. But then you see it, and it's not the shock of cold to your esophagus that makes your eyes widen, spluttering icy water before sucking in a desperate breath.

No. It's the ghostly white figure rummaging around in your backyard on all fours.

You duck down just as it stands, holding on tightly to the counter edge with both hands, before crawling to the backdoor to check it's locked, keeping you safely inside away from whatever this thing was. But, just as you reach for the latch, the creature stands on two legs, stretching back with two thick arms on its waist.

The figure is broad, and tall, and... dressed in what appears to be a giant bunny onesie. Even with it's head covered in a white hood, bunny ears flapping as the creature bends and moves, you know what it is. Who it is. You'd recognize those shoulders just about anywhere, and no one else would pull something like this at 9pm on a Sunday.

It had been weeks since you last saw him, but you can't say that was a surprise - what you had wasn't exactly a regular thing, if it could be called a thing at all. That doesn't mean you hadn't been hoping for it, counting down the days to the next holiday in hopes you'd see him again - There was no denying your disappointment St. Patrick's day came and went with no sign of a leprechaun and a pot of gold. Now, he was finally here, dressed head to toe in a bunny suit, doing fuck knows what to your lawn.

"The fucker..."

Unlocking the door, you slink out into the night, sliding it closed behind you before creeping across the yard. This was new, getting to be the one to surprise him. He may have been in your yard, but with each soft step of your foot on the grass it looked like you were finally going to one up him.

But then he turns around, looking toward the house and seemingly straight through you for a moment...

Before his eyes focus on you in the dark, and everything in his hands goes tumbling to the ground as he practically leaps out of his bunny suit.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ."

"We've got to stop meeting like this," you say watching Joel's giant bunny ears flap in the air with his movement as he bends, reaching down to the grass to pick up the basket he dropped.

"You half scared the shit outta me, what're you doin' out here?" he grumbles as he rights himself.

"What are you doing out here? It's my yard. You Bunny Joel this time?" you joke, crossing your arms over your chest in a not-so-smooth attempt to cover yourself. Getting properly dressed had been the last thing on your mind when you stumbled down the stairs, legs still jelly and head still fuzzy from post-orgasm bliss. The only thought that registered was how damn thirsty you were as you tugged a worn, old shirt over your head and made your way to the kitchen. It wasn't cool enough to blame the temperature shift on your quickly puckering nipples, and you didn't feel like explaining where your panties were or why your thighs were simultaneously sticky and slippery. You're just grateful you put on anything at all, and at the very least it was long enough to cover your ass.

Joel smirks, your fruitless attempt at modesty not going unnoticed. "Ain't no regular bunny, darlin'. I'm the Easter Bunny."

"And the difference is...?"

"Eggs."

You laugh, folding yourself over a little as you giggle into the night. The whole get up really is ridiculous enough on its own, yet here you are discussing the nuances of being a giant bunny with a man more fond of playing dress up than anyone else you'd ever met.

"Eggs?"

You spot them as soon as the word leaves your mouth - four colorful eggs sat neatly in his basket, and another nestled into your flowerbed. Only, they don't look like normal eggs at all. Squinting in the dark, the yard lit only by shitty solar lights you'd bought online last summer, you can make out the neat patterns swirled all over them. This was not the handiwork of some enthusiastic child dying eggs for Easter - they looked professionally painted. Joel shakes the basket at you as you continue to squint at it, and you realise not a single one has cracked or broken, even after being dropped on the floor.

"What are they? Egg shaped bouncy balls?"

"Got some balls right here if you're really that interested," he jokes, looking obscene as he waggles his eyebrows at you beneath the hood of the bunny onesie. "Here, they're just these... things. My brother got 'em for me as a joke, it's a long story."

He passes you one of the eggs, the surface smooth and cool in your hand. There's writing on it that you can just about make out, but you still have no clue what you're holding as you turn it around in your palm.

Sensing your confusion, Joel offers a choice gesture, as he explains that they're for "Y'know."

It clicks. Well, sort of. You know for sure then that they're not something you could sneak away for some solo playtime, like with the plug he dutifully left on by your bedside so many weeks ago but maybe, like the contraptions Joel had strapped over his balls your last two encounters, you could enjoy them together.

"Wait, so... you're giving me a thing for anatomy I don't even have?"

"No it's not like that, I just thought - I, well, shit."

"I'm just fuckin' with you, Bunny Joel. Though giving me a gift that's really a gift for yourself is a bit of a dick move."

"Ain't a dick move if you like 'em, sweetheart. And it's Easter Bunny Joel," he corrects with a wink, smiling at you as he drops the basket on the ground to pull at his neck tie. The man looks good in pink, you think, as he fiddles with the floppy satin.

"Y'know, Easter Bunny Joel doesn't quite roll off the tongue."

"Don't it?"

"Nope," you say with a pop, pinching the material of Joel's Bunny onesie to feel the fabric between your finger tips as your roll the egg across the palm of your other hand. "Think you need a better name than that."

"Okay, I'll bite. What you got in mind?"

You're walking your fingers down his chest now, dancing them in a criss-cross pattern across the fastenings at the front of the suit until you reach his hip and slowly you drag the tips of your fingers closer to his crotch until you're cupping his bulge. You wouldn't say he's entirely flaccid, there's certainly something there, but the length of him still feels pliable beneath your hand as you stroke over the front of his costume.

"I was thinking... Flopsy," you say with a squeeze of your palm against his cock, biting back a laugh when you hear him hiss a breath of night air through his teeth.

"Real funny."

"What? If you're committed to the bit, I can be too," and before he can protest you slip the fingers of your free hand between the fastenings on the front of his suit. You can feel his skin underneath, hot and sticky, trapped beneath the synthetic fabric of the bunny costume. At the very least, he's topless under there, and eager to find out more, you quickly yank at the front, grinning devilishly at Joel as the fabric pops open slightly.

"You really wanna be gettin' into this out here?"

"You scared, Flopsy?" you say, with another squeeze to his now much harder cock. "That side is up for sale, and Janet is out of town until Tuesday. No one's seeing anything. Unless you're scared someone might hear something... but I guess you'll just have to keep quiet."

"F- you're gonna be the death of me, darlin'," he mutters, pulling at his pink tie so it hangs loosely around his neck, giving him better movement to look down at your hand where it strokes his cock over the soft plush of the rabbit costume.

You tug again at the suit and with a rapid pop pop pop, the remaining fastenings hiding his chest from you pull open, revealing him to you and... he's a mess. From the neck down he's covered in streaks of paint, multicolored blooms splattered across him, dusting his ribs like a rainbow of bruises.

"Kid had some powder paint stuff - y'know that festival of color thing? Well, kid had some left after a party with a friend from school... had a little fight in the yard earlier before I dropped her back with her mom for the week," he explains quickly, rubbing a hand nervously against his chest and smearing the splattered rainbow there. You make a mental note, adding has a kid to the very short list of confirmed facts you know about Joel. It's not exactly a surprise revelation, all things considered - the costumes had to come from somewhere, and most grown men don't just have fairy wings and toy bows and arrows lying around.

"Well, Flopsy, you make a mighty fine canvas, but I think I might need a hand with this."

The egg you'd been turning in your hand is deposited back into his grasp just as you tug him forward giving him a peck on the chin and you look expectantly up at him. Joel knows he shouldn't pull you toward him and kiss you out here, he thinks he knows that the expectant look is nothing to do with kissing him and everything to do with the egg in his hand, but he does anyway. Slotting his mouth against yours, he pulls you into his chest, the sweat of his skin transfering blotches of paint from his chest to your old shirt. But you don't care, holding yourself tighter to him, pushing your fingers underneath his hood to card them through his hair. Joel groans into your mouth when your fingertips rub at his scalp. You're in half a mind to call him such a good bunny but the air, and the thought, is knocked out of you the next second when he presses a hand against your ass, pulling you further into him so he can grind his hardened length against your lower belly.

It's been far too long since someone held you against them like this, and far too long since Joel had had someone like you in his arms. As he kisses and kisses you, you're starting to feel more and more insane, and maybe you are - maybe accepting this man into your home with such regularity is the mark of insanity, some kind of as-of-yet undiscovered syndrome that's going to be named after you.

Eventually, you muster the strength to pull away, slapping a hand gently to his chest and nodding down to the egg gripped in his fist. You're eager to see it in action, even if you still can't quite picture what it is.

"C'mon, open it for me. Gotta properly thank the Easter Bunny for bringing me Easter eggs."

Joel slips the wrapper of the egg, something you never could've figured out on your own without decent lighting to guide your way, and presses a thumb into the side of it, popping the top off the egg in one smooth movement.

Before he can hand it to you, you slip down to your knees, bare shins resting against the cool, damp grass. It's a beautiful clear night, no trace of the moon in sight just yet, but the glimmer of stars sparkling relentlessly overhead regardless. You hadn't noticed how hot you'd gotten, but being around Joel always seemed to do this to you. Your cheeks felt hot, your heart beat faster, and your head felt slightly dizzy - the result of it emptying itself of all thoughts except the ones that made you make questionable decisions it seemed. Of course, this time the heat wasn't just from proximity, but from that damned fabric of his costume, the synthetic fibers making you feel sweaty as you held onto him. The grass beneath you is a welcome relief against your warm skin, sending the fine hairs on your body prickling at the sensation.

"This how you say thank you to everyone? On your knees?"

"It's how I say thank you to giant bunnies, Joel," you quip back, pressing a kiss to the softness of his belly. You litter a string of kisses down the trail of hair until you reach the boundary of the bunny suit. Whether he's commando or you have another layer to get through, you don't yet know, but you waste no time finding out. With the hook of your finger and a final swift pull, the last fastenings burst open, revealing Joel's heavy length straining against the front of his boxers. Where his tip tents the fabric, a darker patch blooms, turning the gray practically black with precum.

In your dreams, and there had been many of them, it didn't go like this. Dream you rarely went three rounds with themselves before Joel popped up to come fuck her brains out. Dream you was clever. And, as good as your solo session this evening was, you can't help but have a little regret for ruining yourself before the surprise main event. It was like eating a big meal right before someone suggested getting pizza. You could (and damn well would) eat pizza, but you couldn't enjoy it the same way. Pizza or Joel, you were going to savor it as best you could.

"Such a tease, Flopsy," you murmur as you kiss across his covered cock, nuzzling your face into it and watching in glee as his hand grips the opened egg that little bit tighter. Your fingers are pulling again, this time tugging down at his waistband. Joel is in half a mind to rid the egg of its shell and use the damn thing as a stress ball. It had been too long since last time, and since he last came two fucking days ago, to be seeing you on your knees for him in that flimsy t-shirt. It felt like a gift from the heavens and divine retribution wrapped up in one you shaped package.

As you pull his cock from the confines of his boxers, feeling the deep pulse of the blood in his veins as you wrap your fingers around him, you can't believe your luck at getting to see it in the flesh again. As brilliantly as your mind can concoct the image of it, the reality of it is so much better than any fantasy. Before you let yourself get lost in it, you reach for Joel's hand, grabbing the egg back from him and watching the top fall to the ground and roll across your lawn.

"It stretches. Goes over and you just - uh - stroke with it I guess."

The inside is far from what you expected. You almost find it gross, the translucent white interior far squishier than you expected that it'd be bordering on slimey if it was wet too. Joel laughs down at you, seeing your face as you try to work out what the fuck you're holding, pulling it free from the rest of the shell and seeing a hole stuffed with a plastic tube. You can see what he means now, and you let a soft oh fall from your lips as you tug the tube filled with a sachet of lube from the middle of the toy. You feel inside, running your fingers over soft ridges, and you can only imagine how nice it must feel sliding wetly up and down a cock and, not for the first time in your life, you wish you could experience it yourself. But, the next best thing is right in front of you, and that'll have to do.

"These feel good?" you ask, his eyes turning glassy as you examine the inside of the stroker while your hand still tugs slowly up and down his cock.

Joel sighs deeply, nodding down at you, the obscene bunny ears still flopping on his head with each movement. "S'good. Nothin' like the real deal but, yeah. Feel nice."

Gripping Joel's cock in your fist, you begin to stroke gently up and down, sliding his foreskin back and forth until he's steely hard beneath your palm. The solar lights are starting to dim, their charge from the day already running out, but you can still see the dusky red tip, and the blue of the vein that runs down his shaft. You squish the toy in your other hand, the temptation to taste too strong to just leave all the fun to the squishy silicone. So, you press a delicate kiss right to the tip.

"Oh fuck," Joel hisses.

"Missed it," you confess on your knees with another kiss.

"Yeah? Well, s'all yours." Mine.

"Really? Your bunny wife not going to chase me out of my own yard?"

"Know damn well I ain't got a wife, I ain't the cheatin' kind, darlin', don't you worry."

And that admission alone sends your aching cunt throbbing between your legs, wishing even more desperately now that you weren't completely wrecked and oversensitive from your ill-timed playtime upstairs.

"Good," is all you say before taking his head in your mouth with a swirl of your tongue, a satisfied moan vibrating against his tip as you taste him properly for the first time in 4 months. "I've been thinking about doing this."

"Yeah? Been thinking about sucking my cock?"

"Mhm."

"Shit."

A simple continuous swirl of your tongue and small bob of your head was apparently enough to have him gripping his hands into tight fists, clearly fighting some internal demons to keep himself from coming so soon. Your mind absolutely fizzes with it, that this man wants you, likes what you do to him so much that you can have such an affect on him. And when you suck lightly, his head tips back so far the hood slides back off his head. All you can see is the underside of his jaw from where you look up from your knees, and when looks back down at you with heavy eyes, he looks the most normal you've ever seen him. He's not Santa, nor Cupid, and the costume that had rendered him Bunny Joel just a second ago instead drapes around him like nothing more than a soft, white coat.

"Thought about you tasting you," you mutter between mouthing at his cock, slicking his entire length with your saliva. "Having you come in my mouth. On my face."

Joel groans again, much louder this time and you can't help but laugh, mouth pressed to his balls, at his feeble attempt at silence. You press the tip of your finger, egg still clutched in your fist, to his dribbling slit, and drag a tooth grazing kiss across his sensitive ball skin as you silence him with a whisper.

"Shh, Flopsy. You don't want us to get caught."

"Fuckin' Flopsy, I should -"

But you don't hear what he should do, because you engulf his tip with your mouth once again and Joel finds himself speechless as you immediately slide your lips further down his slicked length with ease. You work him in your mouth, sucking him as you move up and down. He can't stop moaning, he doesn't even try. He should, he thinks. You deserve better than getting caught in your backyard doing something like this, but all he can think about each time you move your tongue just like that is how fucking good your mouth feels.

He feels like he's going to come. Your hand is massaging gently over his balls, your mouth working his cock to a near frenzy, and he is absolutely, one hundred percent sure he's going to come. You know he's almost there. If the groaning wasn't enough, the tightening in his balls and the twitching of his cock were a clear sign he was about to blow.

Then you stop.

Just like that, your mouth is gone. Your hands too. And he's having to force himself to look down at you where you stare in awe at the stroker in your hands, glistening with lube you'd poured into it as he bit his lip and fought off coming, untouched, into the breeze.

You want to use it on him, to listen to him groan as you stroke him with the soft silicone, and watch his every move as you work him over the edge. And his cock, as if calling to you like some kind of siren of the sea, beckons you in, accepting an offering of one last kiss before you raise the stroker.

"It's so stretchy," you gasp, as you slide the toy over the tip of Joel's cock. You can pull it almost all the way down the length of him. You make a few experimental twists and jerks, before settling into a slow rhythm, teasing him just as you'd teased yourself and dragged out your own orgasm upstairs.

It's interesting. Slipperier than your own hand, easier than your own mouth, but not quite the same as either. You can't feel him like this, and you certainly can't taste him.

"Do you like it?" you ask, and Joel doesn't quite know what to answer. He does like it - he likes having your hands on him any way he can get it, but he can't feel you in the same way like this. And it's definitely not as good as your mouth, or any other hole of yours he's fucked.

There's just enough light to see his face give a noncommittal twitch and you're peeling the toy off of him, sucking his tip back into your mouth quickly, moaning as the taste of him hits your tongue.

"Good, because I prefer it like this too."

"Fuck, yeah."

Now though, you have a lubed up, saggy egg in your hand and nowhere to put it. Until an absolutely inspired idea hits you square in the face and you're grinning with Joel's cock in your mouth.

He barely sees the fiendish look in your eye, just notices as you pull off him again, and he could scream. Then, something smooth and cold coats his balls. Your fingers are cradling him delicately, thumb and forefinger stretching open the toy until with a gentle wiggle, his balls are encased in the squishy silicone. And holy fuck, is it like nothing he's ever felt.

"Don't think that's how you use it, darlin'. But, shit, it's good," he gasps as you gently massage his balls through the toy. It's like having a soft cool mouth encasing his entire ballsack, while your actual mouth kisses delicately all over his cock. "C'mon now, stop your teasin', gotta come in the pretty fuckin' mouth."

He's back in your mouth before he even finishes his sentence, your mouth sounding wet an obscene as you work him up and up and up all over again. You draw him in deeper, his cock meeting the back of your throat, over and over, his hand coming to cup your face and delicately wipe away a tear from your watering eyes. Fuck, you're wishing more than ever that you could just jump on him, that your cunt wasn't wrecked, or that it didn't matter, that you could go infinite rounds and still want to be touched again and again. But that wasn't you. You had a limit and, even though you'd reached it, the want in you didn't go away and neither did the slick feeling between your legs or the deep throb of your pulse beating away in your clit.

Joel's fingers grip tighter on the side of your face, a soft thrust of his hips meeting every movement of your head. Catching his eye almost kills you then and there with his cock wedged at the back of your throat. He looks as wrecked as you feel, dark eyes shining down like black holes from space now that the light from your solar lamps has all but fucked off. The paint and rabbit ears almost fade away into the background as you hold yourself down on his cock, making yourself whine around him. You're starting to think if you sucked his cock for long enough you could make yourself come totally untouched, but you don't want to think about it. You can't.

He takes over then. Each slip of your lips down his cock met with a gentle hold, until you both do it all over again. It's easier to hold for longer each time, almost feeling deeper with each slide of his cock across your tongue, the taste of his precum making you salivate as much as having your mouth filled and occupied is.

Then, he presses you down, holding your head as you moan and whine and try desperately to swallow around him, to take more of him as he only seems to get harder.

"Not so Flopsy now, huh?" he asks, releasing you and pushing your head down on his cock once more.

He's fucking into your mouth now, small shallow thrusts hitting the back of your throat, your hand working the toy slickly across his balls as he moans more desperately than you've ever heard him moan before. Despite your teasing and edging, he's the one holding back now, the feel of your mouth on his cock, your nails scratching at his belly, and that damned toy sliding across his balls far too much for him to want to let go of any time soon.

But fuck is he close, and if he's not careful he's going to ruin it for himself by holding back and exploding without warning. He's waited too long for that to happen.

"I'm gonna -"

"Mhm!" you groan around his dick, nodding as much as you can with it in your mouth. You steady your hand against his waist, taking over all movement as he stills the slow gyration of his hips, bobbing your head faster as you suck him down. The swirl and flick of your tongue is positively relentless, and everything feels so wet and warm and fucking perfect that he knows he's a goner.

"Hn-uhhhhh, fuck. Ah, fuck, don't stop, don't stop, fuck, ugh!"

He bursts, salty in your mouth, filling your throat as you swallow around him, massaging and gripping his heavy balls as they twitch in your palm through the thick silicone.

You're only a bit of a mess when you pull off of him. Your lips are swollen and tingly, your hand slippery with lube, but you are totally, utterly content. The slick feeling between your legs is still there, so is the throb, but you're as satisfied as you could possibly be.

Pulling yourself to your feet is another story. Your legs have gone a bit numb from sitting on your knees for so long, and you stumble as you fight to right yourself, Joel catching you just before you tumble into the flowerbed. You laugh in his arms, his mouth pressed to yours as he swallows the sound, consumes it, wills it to make home in his body so he never forgets it.

Joel's fingers work their way under your thin shirt. He'd been looking between your face and your nipples the entire time you were on your knees for him, and he suspects you're entirely naked under there. When his fingers meet your sticky thighs, he thinks he's hit the jackpot, and is ready to return the favor through the haze of his own orgasm, when you stop him.

"I, uh... sorted myself out not too long ago. A few times."

"Damn, if I'd known I woulda come right up and helped you out myself. Thought you were sleepin', house was dark. Jus' playing with this sweet thing all along, huh?"

If he had known, he would have known how much you thought about him as you fucked yourself on your fingers. He would have known how you used the plug he left on your bedside table more than any of the others, crying his name out into the lonely expanse of your bedroom as you came quicker, and harder, than you had any right to. If he had known, he'd know how well and truly fucked you were over a man you still knew practically nothing about.

Of course, you knew some physical things. You knew what he looked like naked, how broad he was, and how sweaty he got when he fucked you. You knew what he sounded like groaning into your mouth or laughing at a silly quip you'd thrown at him. You knew what he tasted like, and what you tasted like off of his tongue. But that was where your knowledge of him ended. You didn't know what he did for work, or if he even liked his job. You didn't know his favorite food or color. You didn't know what he sang in the car. You didn't know where he lived or what he drove - you didn't even know his full name, and you knew exactly why.

You were scared. Terrified, actually. Terrified to really get to know him, to break that blissful illusion of the tall, dark stranger who rocked your world on a seasonal basis, only to find you didn't like him at all. Or worse - that he didn't like you.

So, when you walk him through your house, egg disposed of and hands washed, listening to the soft snap of his suit being closed up around his bare body, you desperately try to ignore the longing ache in your chest, stopping any request for him to stay, to take you out for coffee in the morning before it stupidly tumbles out of your mouth. That's not what this is.

Instead, you wordlessly reach for your keys, smiling sweetly to him as if you hadn't just been waging war against yourself inside your head.

"What're you doing," he says, pointing to the keys held in your hand. "Goin' somewhere, or comin' home with me?"

"No, smart ass, this is a key, it locks doors. Just gonna lock up after you leave."

Joel's smile drops from his face. And you don't know why, but it has alarm bells immediately blaring in your head.

"What?" you ask nervously, eyes darting around his face as if you're trying to read his mind as he takes a slow step toward you, a frown slowly pulling his brow down as he pieces some mystery together.

"The door locks when it closes, then you the take the key and lock it again after?"

"... Maybe? Yes?"

"Wait. And you're tellin' me you do that every night."

"Yes, I lock my door every night Joel, what's wrong with that." Obviously your lock was no match for his lock picking skills, but you didn't consider that Joel perhaps didn't know how locks worked at all.

"What's wrong with that is you're unlocking your door every night and leaving it unlocked all night."

Your blood turns cold. You don't know why. You could just not believe him, or test for yourself, but something about his reaction, and his seemingly easy ability to get into your house, tells you that what he says is exactly right. It's your turn for your smile to drop, and you can feel it slip off your face just as your heart starts rapidly hopping in your chest.

"Oh. I - I thought..."

"It ain't that kind of lock, sweetheart. You never checked it after lockin' it?"

"No. No I - My last place, the lock, I had to - oh my god." There's dread now. A sickening cocktail of feelings swirling through your body, turning you red hot and cold over and over as you think of all the things that could've happened, how lucky you were they didn't, after all this time. Damn near a year, and you hadn't figured out how to properly work your own fucking door.

"How d'you think I been gettin' in? Didn't exactly climb down the chimney or fly in through the window the last two times. Maybe shouldn'ta done it that first time, but your tree was driving me mad, seein' it bare like that every time I drove past. You weren't in and the door was open, was only gonna be quick and then..."

You're not listening. Your heart has just stopped like it's been hurtled into a brick wall at 100mph. "Wait, you drive past my house?"

"Where else am I gonna fuckin' drive?!"

A thousand million volts straight to your chest, and your heart is beating again, racing, your voice raising with it, brandishing the pointy end of your key at him like it could save you now. "Have you been stalking me?"

"What? No! I live down the fuckin' street, I drive by to get to my house, I thought you knew that."

"Down the street?"

"Yes. I'm hardly gonna come from outta town just to fix your lights and your sink and fuck off again. I was just... bein' neighborly, I guess."

"You've been in my house fixing my shit without me here?"

It's just revelation after revelation. You can't believe it. You can't believe yourself for one, but you can't believe him either. Only you can. You very much believe him, and you hate that you do and you hate that, deep down, you know he's right and you're exactly the kind of idiot he's undoubtedly thinking you are.

"You ain't fuckin' noticed?! You had a light out in here, your kitchen faucet was drippin', your railin' in your hall closet was bust... you didn't notice anythin'? Are you even fuckin' in that pretty head o' yours?"

Suddenly you're feeling very stupid. The door is one thing, the minor home repairs another, but you'd been under the impression you were both on the same page this entire time. That it was some silly game you played, two strangers who had next to no clue about each other. All this time he knew who you were, but you were too fucking preoccupied and distracted and stupid to see that he was right there.

The heat in your checks crackles in your ears, misting over your eyes and making your entire body feel fuzzy. That fight or flight you'd been wondering about for the last few months has suddenly decided to make an appearance, settling on both as you fight back tears with a quivering lip.

"Get out." It's silent fury, building white hot as the seconds tick by with him standing, staring at you like you're the one dressed as a giant rabbit and not him.

"What? Darlin', c'mon, it's okay -"

"Get. Out." You wrench the door open, pushing him and his stupid fucking bunny costume out, shoving the basket of eggs into his arms once he crosses the doorway.

"Bye." You slam the door, the stupid fucking self locking door, and slide down it, head in your hands. You have never felt so fucking stupid.

next part

taglist: @jupiter-soups @wannab-urs @bean-is-reading @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @youandmeand5bucks-blog @bbyanarchist @vickywallace @kamcrazy123 @valkyreally @ashhlsstuff @a-literal-goblin @ariundercovers @iluvurfather @stevie75 @toxicanonymity @thesevi0lentdelights @sp00kymulderr

[sylveon-and-velveon]

Playing "4 Big Guys" around the slashers

Shitpost idea has been made, so here XD

This will include: Michael Myers {OG & RZ}, Brahms Heelshire, Jason Voorhees, Billy Lenz, Freddy Krueger, Stu Macher, Billy Loomis, Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Sawyer, Harry Warden, Tiffany Valentine

Feel free to request any shitpost writing prompt ideas you can think of in my asks, I love silly non-serious ideas XD

Given the music is VERY adult related, this is 18+ ONLY

OG Michael Myers

Ain't gonna lie, the second you play that song he's probably staring at you instantly. Anger? Disappointment? Cursing your entire family and possible future children? Who knows! It's Michael-Fucking-Myers baby!!!

He's not used to anything sexual overall so hearing a song openly sing about gay sex, and in such a detailed way, would worry him. Not for the singer, no- more on your taste in music.

And don't even get me started on when he hears about shit being involved. The second he hears that being mentioned he's turning off the music entirely, patting your head, and dragging you away so you'll listen to something he likes instead to cleanse that weird mind of yours. Like... Kate Bush or something.

He'd like Kate Bush right? He looks like a Kate Bush enjoyer.

RZ Michael Myers

Judging you, hard. Though he ain't saying it. His aura is practically smellable he's judging you so hard.

Does he like it? No. It's loud, obnoxious, and profound filled. Ignoring the obvious "gay sex and other weirdness" part, the volume of the music reminds him of his childhood.

He's smashing the device the music is coming from. He doesn't care if it's your MP3 all the way to a damn TV or Alexa, he's smashing that shit to pieces if it means he doesn't need to hear it anymore.

What would he put on instead? Calming ambient noises that play for hours on end on YouTube. It's the exact opposite of whatever hellscape you just played. It's better.

Brahms Heelshire

Well first of all it ain't classical, so that's a point on the "I Hate This" list.

Second it's not a piano.

Third it's literally "4 Big Guys"-

Not only is this poor man confused about everything the singer is saying, I highly doubt his parents explained LGBTQ+ to him, he's also hating how loud it is.

"Who puts things up their ass?" - Brahms Heelshire 2024

You turn off the music yourself when he practically begs you to.

You're probably tryna hold in your laughter while he's sitting on the floor trying to figure out what the fuck he just heard.

Jason Voorhees

Is there a bigger word for "traumatized"? Because that man earns it.

You're lucky af, if his mom was live she'd hit you with a crowbar so fast- Not kill you tho, she wouldn't dare hurt her boy.

But yeah, he's not saying anything, nor moving. Bro's too traumatized. LOOK WHAT YOU'VE DONE-

You better give him his teddy he fucking deserves it TmT

Laughing his ass off until the shit is mentioned, even this horny gremlin has his limits.

Can you tell I hate shit kinks? XD

He'd want an apology for you blasting that song so far to that section. But no music! He hates Christmas songs, they're so repetitive and they all sound the same anyway.

Bake him a cake, the more unique the better. His favourite so far is red velvet with cream cheese frosting!

Then when he's finished eating you're getting railed by him not longer after, man's not changed. Not now, not ever.

Freddy Krueger

You can play this entire song with this man on REPEAT and he'd be fine with it.

I'd be surprised if he didn't given his track record and.... slicing open his skin to reveal green "blood" and maggots crawling out.

Would he laugh the first time? ABSOLUTELY!

Would he jokingly sing along, probably.

But he would TOTALLY play this song when going after his victims sometimes. Imagine dying and the last thing you hear is:

"4 BIG GUYS AND THEY GRAB ON MY THIGHS-"

Stu Macher & Billy Loomis

Billy is concerned for your wellbeing. Especially when you start singing it at full force with Stu joining in not long after.

Yeah Stu is enjoying this to the max!

Finds it hilarious, who the fuck wouldn't when you've got humour more broken than Brahms' doll-

But seeing you enjoying yourself to this.... absurdity, at least makes Billy calm down from worry. Now he's just concerned your taste in music may infiltrate your taste in movies.

I doubt the man's used to hearing music.... imagine this being his first time hearing it-

OMG he'd probably think this is normal for music.

WHAT HAVE YOU DONE??? XD

If it's not his first time hearing music though? No concern, laughter, nothing. He's neutral, given that this is something that makes you a little chaotic gremlin.

He's happy seeing you comfortable enough around to be a "gremlin" as you call it.

Bubba Sawyer

Don't traumatize him more than he's been already!!

Sure he doesn't realise it, or the fact he's used to it, but the poor guy's already traumatized-

Though he's probably more confused in the whole scheme of things. I mean, he knows what sex is. But just the surface of it.

So he's probably just learnt way too much in such a short period of time.

Oh lord what have you done-

Harry Warden

Okay first of all, why is there no GIF of this man? WTF????

Second; man's from the mines, man's old fashioned, you've probably just thrown way too much modern shit in his face way too quickly that he's just staring at you, the music video, and then the floor.

Poor miner is so confused, especially when the "cum starts spraying".

Oh god he'll probably think it's like dust from the mines spraying everywhere.

Fucking hell that's a vision-

Tiffany Valentine

Finds it amusing? Yes.

Judging? Not as much as you'd expect.

Girl's been through a wild ride, hearing you blast out "4 Big Guys" from your phone wouldn't be the most shocking thing in the world.

Hell. she'd probably encourage you to start singing along to it XD

Oh she's gonna use that song to torture someone with it. She doesn't know how yet, but she's got the idea in her head now

[andy-wm]

What we know now, after they have started MS

This is a short post, because life is a lot right now and i have very little emotional energy. But this felt important, so here I am.

Tonight I revisited an older post and realised I'd never completed the thought process i began there...

When Jimin released his solo album, FACE, I wrote this analysis post.

Part of that analysis talked about my impression of JK's backing vocals on Letter.

We had seen Jimin's Production Diary, and based on the clip of JK in the recording studio I thought he didn't know he would be asked to sing backing vocals.

Here's a screen grab of that post:

After watching the docuseries, BTS Monuments: Beyond The Star, we know that was correct...

It was a surprise to him when Jimin asked him.

In fact both aspects of that prediction were right, he didn't know about the song at all.

I have two questions:

Why would Jimin have kept the song a secret from JK?

And

Why wouldn't Jimin himself ask Jungkook to sing it? Why get PDogg to ask him? Jimin was RIGHT THERE.

Actually, make that three questions.

Why did Jimin scurry away as soon as JK asked to listen to the song?

Jimin earnestly said, "I made a fan song", while holding Jungkook's face in his hands.

That's such an intimate gesture, by the way. If my Best Friend held my face that way while they told me they'd done something, I'd take it to mean that the something was significant for/about me.

Jungkook asked to listen to the song, and Jimin... vanished. He retreated to the sofa to sit out of Jungkook's line of sight.

He's suddenly shy? Shy of Jungkook's reaction?? Wierd, but ok...

Unless the song is REALLY significant to JK....

In short, yes, it is REALLY significant. We already kinda guessed that right? But now, in light of their situation, it's more significant...

So, Jungkook recorded his part of the song.

Lets think about the lyrics...

Bear in mind this was written and recorded long before they had confirmation that their application for companion enlistment was successful...

These lyrics are even more significant in that context.

Plus

This is the part of the song that's in banmal. The switch from polite to familiar signals a change in the relationship, (I wrote about that in a previous post) and since Jimin always talks to ARMY politely, we can asume this part of the the song (at least) is directed at... someone else 👀

"We dont know what the future holds, don't worry I'll stay by your side."

Now consider that Jimin has written these words for not only himself to sing. He's asking Jungkook to sing them with him.

He's asking Jungkook to sing this love song with him.

With no hesitation, Jungkook says yes. He does the recording there and then.

And when JK is finished recording...

He tells Jimin that the song is really nice. Immediately, Jimin is a limpet. He's all over Junkgook like he's made of Velcro. A stark contrast to his earier behaviour when his vulnerability made him scurry away.

Jimin jokes that Junkgook should record a message for ARMY and Pdogg calls him out on that lie. Of course JK refuses. "It's your song." he tells Jimin.

Jimin is pushing his luck here, first asking JK to record a message, and then asking him to claim ownership (or share responsibility) for the song.

Jk has no trouble saying no to that.

It seems like more than a meaningless joke to me. One of those suggestions alone might be, but both? It left me wondering if Jimin suddenly felt scared that he was revealing too much with the song?

I'm kinda impressed that JK, for all his love and support, wasn't prepared to rescue Jimin from his choices. He simply, but gently, said no. It tells me a lot about their relationship.

It also tells me a lot about both JK's honestly and his belief in Jimin.

eta, I was tired and once my thought bubble popped i just hit 'post' and fell asleep. But it's exactly a year since Jimin released FACE and i think it's a pretty cool coincidence that i came back to this randomly on this day.

Happy FACE day, ARMYs. 💛💜

[muxshwriting]

arsonist's lullabye

Kaz Brekker x reader

summary: when Kaz Brekker is poisoned by a hallucinogen, it’s not Jordie he sees, it’s you || warnings: poisoning, death, revenge, pekka rollins || word count: 685 || masterlist

Kaz could feel himself falling backwards but can’t stop it. He closes his eyes and lets the darkness consume him.

The warmth around him takes him by surprise and he opens his eyes to find himself on the floor of a merchants shop. You’re standing behind the counter. You, who used to be friends with Kaz before everything and grew up with him and Jordie. Even after everything happened, you kept in touch, always offering a helping hand when you could.

"What brings Kaz Brekker into my shop at this time of day?"

One last thing, you were also dead. You had died at sixteen when the Dime Lions had raided your store and taken everything you’d worked so hard to get. Kaz had been the one to find you that morning. He had sat opposite your body, unable to touch you but unable to look away. He had done everything he could to make sure you were buried nicely and left in peace for the rest of time.

You hadn’t deserved the hand you’d been dealt and to see you standing in front of him now was jarring, to say the least. The woman in front of him now wasn’t the sixteen year old that had died, you were the same age as Kaz, all grown up like you should’ve been.

"Kaz?"

Kaz took a breath. "You’re dead."

"Everyone dies at some point Kaz. I know I’m dead because I’m not actually here. This is all in your mind Kaz, so enjoy yourself."

"What?"

You lift yourself onto the counter. "Your mind showed you me for a reason, what are you searching for?"

Kaz stayed silent, pulling himself to his feet. It was then that he realised, he wasn’t wearing his gloves, his hands were bare.

"What do you want Brekker?"

"I want revenge." Kaz’s expression hardened. "I want Pekka Rollins dead, for me, for Jordie and for you."

"Kaz, he doesn’t even know who you are."

Kaz sneered, "He knows Kaz Brekker."

"And I’ve known you since before Kaz Brekker was even born." You say to him. "Don’t lecture me about the past."

"If you have all the answers, what are you here for?" Kaz angrily asked, getting more annoyed at your mirage.

"There are never many options in this world Kaz, especially in Ketterdam, you need to learn to use what you have."

"Stop speaking in riddles."

"We all have demons Kaz Brekker. You don't forget about them and they don't go away."

"What the fuck does that even mean?"

You laugh at his misery and confusion. "You need to wake the fuck up. You're living in the past, letting your ghosts dictate your future and letting yourself be led by them instead of by yourself."

"Says the ghost."

"I'm telling you to move on Kaz. Wake up and do something for you, not me or Jordie." Your voice was getting louder and louder, trying to get Kaz to listen to you.

"Do something for me!? I've only been doing things for me my whole life. If I didn't, I'd me dead. My hands are covered in blood I've spilt, for me!"

"Look at your hands Kaz Brekker."

He does look down at his ungloved hands. They're absolutely impeccable and spotless, if a little pale.

"If you are the infamous ‘Dirtyhands’, get your hands dirty Kaz Brekker. Get your hands fucking dirty!" You yell. "Stop being a coward and stand up."

Kaz snapped his eyes opened, pushing someone's hand away from him as he took his first real breath in minutes. The harsh reality of your words was starting to sink in, except they weren't really your words.

How was he supposed to move on the way you wanted him to? He had to make your death worth something, make your life worth something even more. How was he supposed to forget everything that had happened?

But you had also said that demons are always there. So he should use his demons however he wants because they're his demons. They do what he wants and the whole world is at his fingertips...

taglist: @aoi-targaryen

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

Like a lamb led to slaughter (my heart held in your hands)

carry me slowly, my sunlight (these colours, they fade for you only) - series masterlist here

pairing: damian wayne x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1.7k

genre: fluff? angst? kinda hurt/comfort?

warnings: this is the enemies part of the enemies to lovers so they're kinda mean and hateful, reader pulls a knife on damian at the beginning but it's pretty chill, also angsty ending in this but future parts where they're together and in love are already up and in my masterlist <3

a/n: enjoy xoxo

Damian pauses, holding his breath as the knife that's been suddenly pressed against his throat gets pressed a little harder. The wind blows the sand around his feet gently and he listens, straining for a hint as to who his attacker is.

"Damian Al Ghul, caught by surprise… you're getting slow," your voice makes him relax - much to his annoyance, his jaw clenching as he exhales slowly. You pull the knife away from him, ignoring the small trickle of blood that runs down his neck as you stand in front of him. 

"You shouldn't be here," he snaps harshly.

"Neither should you," you quip back.

"This is my -"

"For now," you interrupt, your grin wicked. "This war of ours isn't over yet, Al Ghul. I wouldn't claim the winning prize for yourself just yet - not when you're the one who's been caught off guard." Damian's fists clench, his eyes hard as he stares at you through the darkness of night, the stars dripping pinpricks of light onto the two of you.

"This is League territory. You are outcast. You're not welcome here, and neither are any of the others who follow you," he says viciously. You smile.

"So sure I won't beat you still," you say, a mocking edge in your voice that makes him huff. "So sure it'll be you leading the League one day, and not me."

Damian doesn't bite back, though. He opens his mouth to, but then seems to think better of it, opting instead to step away from you and plant himself on the sandy ground while the clouds part, the moon shining through. You think you hear him muttering, "why don't you just kill me and get it over with, then?"

You blink at his behaviour, following him cautiously and standing in front of him, blocking the light of the moon and shrouding him in darkness where he's sitting, knees pulled up to his chest.

"What's wrong with you?" You ask, toeing at his side with your shoe, jostling him slightly. He just clenches his fists tighter.

"You're blocking out the sky," he says bitterly. "And you stabbed me." You arch a brow.

"You're stargazing now? How novel. And I didn't stab you - don't be dramatic. It was just a little cut… you've given me worse," you point out.

"You deserve worse," he snaps. You straighten back and away from him, moving to let the light of the moon shine down on him as you sit next to him.

"You know I'd never kill you on a night like this," you say, a softness in your voice that makes you both queasy. You feel the weight of the knife in its sheath against your leg and press your hand to it. You could try to kill him - you probably should. God knows there are enough people waiting for you to.

"Not enough of an audience?" Damian says dryly. You kick a pile of sand near your foot.

"Why didn't you fight back? You could just as easily try to kill me tonight. But you wouldn't because we've been at this far too long to let it end in private… just the two of us." The end of your sentence is murmured, your eyes trained on his face while he stares up at the night sky. It takes him longer than you'd like for him to tear his gaze away from the full moon and look back at you, the light shining on one half of his face while the other now sits in shadow. You imagine you look much the same, half bathed in light, half shrouded. 

"What do you think will happen?" His question finally cuts through the silence. "When one of us finally kills the other." You pull your hand away from your knife like it's burned you. 

"When I kill you?" You say haughtily. "The League will be mine."

"And when I kill you?" Damian snaps back. You seem to mull over your answer for a moment too long, Damian huffing and turning back up to the sky.

"Then you win," you say quietly. "And you're rid of me." Something in your heart twinges at that and you grit your teeth.

"What would I do?" He says it so softly you're sure you wouldn't hear him if you hadn't spent so many years learning him. You fix him with a hard look, but he keeps his eyes pointedly on the stars and not at you. "What would I do without you?"

"What would I do without you?" Your response is so wavering and hushed that you think he must have missed it. It must have simply been caught in the wind and carried away to somewhere where the two of you could be anything other than what you are now. The way Damian turns to look at you, eyes wide and vulnerable and hurting, tells you he heard you just fine. 

"I don't want to kill you," he says it like kindness is a crime.

"You have to," you respond, like a lamb led to slaughter. "It's what we're made for, you and me. To be each other's end - each other's undoing. Only one of us is making it out of this alive." There's a weight in your words that goes unsaid. A part of me will die with you. Neither one of us will make it out of this and stay whole. A part of me belongs to you.

Damian stands suddenly, sand flying at where you sit as he shoots to his feet. You brush it off of you with a sigh and crane your neck to look up at him where he's standing tall, fists clenched and shoulders back, his feet planted firmly and holding him steady. You assume there's a determination in his eyes that you're intimately familiar with to go with his stance. He's blocked out the moon with his figure, leaving the two of you in shadow with a blinding halo around his silhouette, but you don't need to see his face to know what look he's wearing - you haven't needed to for a long time.

"There's a way around this, I'm sure," he says. You sigh and a breeze floats by, ruffling through him and into you. Your nose burns when you pick up the faintest whiff of his scent and you wonder, just for a moment, if he can detect the same from you… if he knows you the way you know him.

"You don't want that," you say flatly.

"Don't tell me what I want," he snaps back, voice hard. "You don't get to decide how this ends." You shoot up at his words, standing chest to chest with him, so close that you bump into each other.

"I decide just as much as you do." Your voice mimics the steel in his own. "This is about us, not you, and… and," whatever you were saying dies out as you look at Damian, his eyes staring back at you intensely. You hadn't really realized, in your anger and haste, how close to him you'd shoved yourself, but you can feel his breath on your skin and see the flecks of colour in his deep brown eyes.

"And… what?" He prompts, scowl still on his face. He seems to take no notice of the way his nose brushes against yours. That is, until your eyes flick down to his lips for a split second too long.

He lurches away from you, stepping back to create distance and holding a hand out in surrender, as if the close proximity to you just then had been more threatening than all the times you'd pointed a sword to his chest. The way your heart thumps behind your ribs and your breath catches, you're inclined to agree.

"I'm going to fix this," he says breathlessly.

"Fix what? There's nothing to fix, Damian." His name burns your tongue, like it's an intimacy you shouldn't indulge in. "There's nothing to fix. This is the way it's supposed to go."

"I won't kill you," he's all but yelling at you now. "And I won't let you kill me." You make the mistake of closing your eyes, hanging your head slightly and sighing as you prepare yourself for another fight. It's a moment of weakness that you would never allow in front of any enemy other than him - a moment of vulnerability that could cost you your life. But you hear it, ever so slightly, the whisper of him moving with a stealth that only the two of you know. By the time you open your eyes, he's gone.

You realize, in the days following the incident, that you'd never gone so long without seeing Damian before. At first, you were shoved against each other by your respective sides in never-ending fights to see who would triumph. Then, as time passed and the two of you grew, your skills matched and fights ending in draws over and over, you started seeking each other out on your own. To know your enemy, you'd always told yourself. You're sure he'd always tried to convince himself of the same. 

But now? Now days have gone by without a whisper, without a flickering shadow or a hushed breath. Eventually, you go looking, silent and hidden and so desperately hopeful. But that's when you hear it - the rumours.

Damian Al Ghul is gone - gone to live with his father and train with him. He'll be back, you promise yourself. He'll come back to me. 

But he doesn't. Time passes and he remains gone, the rumours spreading.

Damian Al Ghul has found a home beyond this war, beyond you. You're sure that only makes you so nauseous because now you'll never get the chance to kill him.

Damian Al Ghul has no interest in fighting a war that isn't his anymore, you hear. Damian Al Ghul has no need for a vicious prophecy or a never-ending rivalry.  Damian Al Ghul has found a home, apparently, and it's somewhere far… far away from you.

[ineffable-endearments]

The Crow Road by Iain Banks

I finished The Crow Road and had a little time to think about it. I'll put my thoughts under a Keep Reading in case anyone is trying to avoid spoilers.

As I speculated before, I think it's likely that The Crow Road is more related to Good Omens in philosophy than in plot. I mean, it's not that the plots necessarily have nothing in common, and we could be very surprised in the end of course, but now that I've read the whole book, its philosophical commonalities with GO are both apparent and kind of inspiring. Also, if I were a writer, I'd be more interested in dropping hints about what themes are important than telegraphing my whole plot ahead of time.

So here, I will describe the book and point out themes that I believe may reappear in Good Omens 3.

This is a long post. If you read it, make a cup of [beverage of choice].

Update on 4/20/2024: I made a second post: The Crow Road and Good Omens: Further-Out Thoughts

Below are mentions of suicide, death/murder, and sexual acts.

The Crow Road centers around a character named Prentice McHoan, a university student in Scotland who starts to sort out his complicated relationship with his complicated family as he explores the mystery of his uncle Rory's disappearance. Although the book is mostly from Prentice's perspective, the narration jumps around in time with the McHoan family. There are quite a lot of important characters to keep track of; the bare-bones summary I put below doesn't even include some of the important ones. I wanted to make the summary even shorter and simpler than this, but the truth is that this book is not short or simple, and if I made the summary any simpler, it might be downright misleading.

There are at least three major cultural aspects of The Crow Road that I am inexperienced with: the overall culture in the 1950s-1980s (I was born in 1988, so of course wasn't here for the relevant decades), the international experience of the Gulf War (again, born in 1988), and the history and culture of Scotland itself (I'm USAmerican with only reading as a source). As a result, I'm sure there are important dimensions to the book that I've missed. If someone has a different perspective taking some of these things into account, I'd love to know about it.

Also, keep in mind, there is a great deal of descriptive writing in this book. There are a lot of pages about the geography of Scotland, and about Prentice as a kid, and about Prentice's father and uncles hanging out together in their youth, and about various family incidents, and about Prentice spending time with his brothers and friends. At first, these passages seem to just make things more confusing, and in my head, I accused them of being "filler." But they definitely serve a purpose. They're a way of showing and not telling the characters' attitudes and relationships to each other. More importantly, because we get to actually live these experiences with the characters, they are what give all the plot points below their deeper emotional impacts. In other words, the everyday experiences give the plot its deeper meaning. They resonate with one of the core themes in the novel: that our experiences in life, rather than any supposed existence after death, are what matters.

The Crow Road's story is like this:

Prentice is rather directionless in life, and he seems to have trouble investing any energy in his own future as he moons over his unrequited feelings for an idealized young woman named Verity. Soon, Verity ends up in a romance with Prentice's brother, Lewis, and Prentice feels that Lewis "stole" her from him. Prentice has also become estranged from his father, Kenneth, over spirituality. Prentice believes there has to be something more after death because he feels it would be incredibly unfair if people didn't get anything other than this one life; Kenneth is not only a passionate atheist, but is offended by the notion of an afterlife.

Prentice's uncle Hamish, Kenneth's brother, has always been religious, although his religion involves a number of bizarre and offbeat ideas of his own, with inspiration from more traditional Christian notions. Prentice is not really sure about this ideology, but he's willing to talk to Hamish about it and even participates during Hamish's prayers, whereas Kenneth is openly scornful of Hamish's beliefs. Hamish interprets this as Prentice being on "his side."

Prentice has a few opportunities to go back and talk to his father, and is begged to do so by his mom, Mary, with whom his relationship is still good. Mary doesn't want either of the men to give up their inner ideas about the universe; she just wants them to agree to disagree and move on as a family. Prentice says he will visit, but he just keeps putting it off and off and off.

Prentice acquires a folder containing some of his missing uncle Rory's notes in the process of hooking up with Rory's former girlfriend, Janice Rae, who seems to have taken a shine to Prentice because he reminds her of Rory. Using the contents of the folder, Prentice wants to piece together the great literary work that Rory left unfinished, which Rory titled Crow Road; however, it becomes apparent that Rory didn't turn his concepts into anything substantial and only had a bunch of disconnected notes and ideas. He hadn't even decided whether Crow Road would be a novel, a play, or something else. The few bits of Rory's poetry for Crow Road read are bleak and depressing.

Prentice also spends a lot of time with a young woman named Ash. They've been good friends since childhood and seem to have a somewhat flirtatious dynamic now, but they aren't in a romantic relationship; mostly, they drink and hang out together. Ash tells Prentice bluntly to get his life back on track when she finds out he's failing at school, avoiding his family, and engaging in shoplifting. She is a voice of reason, and when Prentice insists to her that he's just a failure, she reminds him that actually, he's just a kid.

Prentice's efforts to figure out Rory's story or location stagnate, and he continues to fail at school and avoid his father. He then receives word that Kenneth was killed while debating faith with Hamish. In fact, Kenneth dies after a fall from a church lightning rod, which he was climbing in an act of defiance against Hamish's philosophy when it was struck by lightning; Hamish is convinced that Kenneth had incurred God's wrath. Ash is there for support when Prentice finds out about the death.

With Ash's help, Prentice returns to his hometown again to help manage Kenneth's affairs. Prentice speaks with a very shaken Hamish, who is handling Kenneth's death with extreme drama and making it all about his own feelings. Hamish tells Prentice that Kenneth was jealous that Prentice shared more in common with Hamish's faith than with Kenneth's lack of faith. However, this isn't really true, and as he contemplates his father's death, Prentice begins to internalize one of the last things Hamish reported that Kenneth had argued: "All the gods are false. Faith itself is idolatry."

As the chapters go on, Prentice is compelled by some of the meaningful items related to Rory that he discovers in his father's belongings. He gains a renewed sense of purpose trying to solve the mystery of where Rory went and what happened to him. Among the interesting items are an ancient computer disk of Rory's that Prentice can't access with any equipment he can find; Ash uses her connections in the US and Canada to find a computer expert who can finally open the files on it. This takes quite a while, since the disk has to be mailed and Ash's connection is investigating the disk only in his free time.

Prentice also discovers that his feelings for Verity have changed. He no longer feels angry with Lewis for "stealing her." At first, Prentice's narration describes this as his feelings "cooling" as a result of the trauma of losing his father, but interestingly, this soon means Prentice gets to know Verity as a sister-in-law without getting caught up in jealous romantic feelings. Verity gets along well with the family, and Prentice is actually happy to discover that she and Lewis have a baby on the way. Prentice's relationship with Lewis improves greatly as well, partly because he is no longer jealous and partly because he realizes he does not want to lose Lewis, too.

Ash's connection who was looking at Rory's computer disk comes through and sends the printed contents of the files to Prentice. The files reveal to him that Rory likely knew Prentice's uncle, Fergus, murdered his wife by unbuckling her seat belt and crashing their car. Rory had written out a fictional version of events and considered using it in Crow Road. I'm not clear on exactly how certain Rory was about Fergus's crime, or whether Rory would have intentionally reported Ferg, or whether Rory even had enough proof to publicly accuse Ferg of murder, but people would likely have connected the dots in Rory's work and become suspicious of Ferg. For this reason, Prentice believes Ferg murdered Rory as well.

Prentice confronts Ferg. He doesn't get a confession and leaves Ferg's home with no concrete proof of anything; Ferg denies it all. But Prentice is soon physically assaulted in the night, and it seems Ferg was almost certainly the culprit, because he hadn't been home that same night, and he had injuries (probably from being fought off) the next day. A day or two later, Ferg's body is found unconscious in the cockpit of a plane, which crashes into the ocean. It's uncertain whether this was a suicide, but Prentice suspects it was. Rory's body is then soon recovered from the bottom of a waterway near Prentice's home, where Ferg had sunk it years ago.

As the mysteries are solved, Prentice realizes his feelings for Ash are romantic love. However, it's too late, he thinks, because Ash is about to take a job in Canada, where she may or may not stay. Prentice also hesitates to approach her because he's embarrassed about his previous behavior, venting all his angst about Verity and his father. He isn't sure she would even want to be in a relationship with him after that. But the very night before Ash leaves, she kisses Prentice on the cheek, which leads to a deeper kiss. They finally connect, have sex, and confess their mutual feelings. Ash still goes to her job in Canada, but says she'll come back when Prentice is done with his studies that summer.

The relationship's future is somewhat uncertain because something could come up while Ash is in Canada, but Prentice is hopeful. The book ends with Prentice getting ready to graduate with his grades on track as a history scholar, fully renouncing his belief in an afterlife while he acknowledges the inherent importance of our experiences in our lives now, and enjoying his time with Lewis and Verity and his other family members.

What's the point of all these hundreds of pages?

Well, look at all of the above; there's definitely more than one point. But the main point I took away is that we get this one life, with our loved ones in this world here and now, and this is where we make our meanings. There is no other meaning, but that doesn't mean there's no meaning at all. It means the meaning is here.

It's not death that gives life its meaning. It's the things we do while alive that give life its deeper meaning.

The Crow Road is described (on Wikipedia) as a Bildungsroman, a story focusing on the moral and philosophical growth and change of its main character as they transition from childhood to adulthood ("coming-of-age novel" is a similar term that is interchangeable, but more vague and not necessarily focused on morality/philosophy). And, indeed, all of the plots ultimately tie into Prentice's changed philosophy.

After his argument with Kenneth, Prentice feels childish and humiliated, and as a result, he refuses to go back home, which leads to a spiral of shame and depression. Kenneth dies and Prentice realizes it's too late to repair the relationship, which also leads him to realize it's what we do in life that matters, and that therefore, his father's argument was correct after all.

At the end of the novel, Prentice outright describes his new philosophy. However, I can't recall one specific passage where Prentice describes the process of how he changed his mind (if anyone else can remember something I missed, do let me know). There is, however, a moment when his narration indicates that Hamish seems less disturbed by his own part in the incident that led to Kenneth's death and more disturbed by the notion that his beliefs might actually be true: there might actually be an angry, vengeful God. In other words, Hamish's philosophy is selfish at its core.

My interpretation is that when his father died, Prentice realized three things: how utterly self-serving Hamish's devout faith is, how Kenneth's untimely death proves the importance of working things out now rather than in an imaginary afterlife, and how much profound meaning Kenneth had left behind despite having no faith at all. After these realizations, a determined belief in an afterlife no longer makes our lives here more profound like Prentice once thought it did.

Also, it's worth noting that this incident changes Prentice's idea of partnership, too. He loses interest in this distant, idealized woman he's been after. In love as in the rest of life, Prentice lets go of his ideals, and in doing so, he makes room for true meaning, both in a sincere familial, platonic connection with Verity and a sincere intimate, romantic connection with Ash.

But what about the sex scene?!

Yes, indeed, at the tail end of the story, Prentice and Ash have sex and admit they want to be in a relationship together. Prentice's narration describes them sleeping together and having intercourse not just once, but many times, including some slow and relaxed couplings during which they flex the muscles in their private parts to spell out "I.L.Y." and "I.L.Y.T." to each other in Morse code. This is relevant because earlier, they had been surprised and delighted to discover that they both knew Morse code; it isn't a detail that came from nowhere.

I didn't get the impression that this scene was trying to be especially titillating to the reader. It was mostly just a list of stuff the characters did together. I felt the point was that they were still anxious about being emotionally honest, a little desperate to convey their feelings without having to speak them out loud, and awkward in a way that made it obvious that their primary concern was the feelings, not the sexual performance. They cared about each other, but they weren't trying to be impressive or put on a show; contrast this with previous scenes where Prentice would act like a clown in front of Ash to diffuse his own anxiety. I've always thought that being able to have awkward sex and still enjoy it is a good sign.

Okay, so what does this all have to do with Good Omens?

Here's where I have to get especially interpretive. I'm doing my best, but of course, not everyone reading this will have the same perspective on Good Omens, the Final Fifteen especially. I believe similar themes are going to resonate between The Crow Road and Good Omens regardless of our particular interpretations of the characters' behavior and motivations, but I suppose it could hit differently for some people.

The TL;DR: I see similar themes between The Crow Road and Good Omens in:

The importance of mortal life on Earth

Meaning (or purpose) as something that we create as we live, not something that is handed to us by a supreme being

Sincere connection and love/passion (for people, causes, arts, life's work, etc) as a type of meaning/purpose

Relationships as reflections of philosophy

The dual nature of humanity

Life on Earth as the important part of existence is a core theme in Good Omens, and has been since the very beginning. We all already know Adam chose to preserve the world as it already is because he figured this out, and we all already know Aziraphale and Crowley have been shaped for the better by their experiences on Earth. But Good Omens isn't done with this theme by a long shot. I think this is the most important thematic commonality Good Omens will have with The Crow Road. Closely related is the notion that we create our meanings as we live, rather than having them handed to us. Isn't this, in a way, what Aziraphale struggles with in A Companion to Owls? He's been given this meaning, this identity, that doesn't fit him. But does he have anything else to be? Not yet.

Partnerships as a parallel to the characters' philosophical development also resonates as a commonality that The Crow Road may have with Good Omens. Prentice's obsession with Verity goes away when he starts to embrace the importance of life on Earth and makes room for his sincere relationship with Ash. Note their names: "Verity" is truth, an ideal Prentice's father instills in him; "Ashley" means "dweller in the ash tree meadow" in Anglo-Saxon, according to Wikipedia, and "ash" is one of the things people return to after death. Prentice literally trades his high ideals for life on Earth. We see in Aziraphale a similar tug-o'-war between Heaven's distant ideals and Crowley's Earthly pleasures, so I can see a similar process potentially playing out for him.

I don't particularly recall a ton of thematic exploration of free will in The Crow Road. However, there is a glimmer of something there: Prentice feels excessively controlled by Kenneth's desire to pass down his beliefs, and part of the reason Prentice is so resistant to change is simply his frustration with feeling censored and not being taken seriously. As the reader, I do get the feeling that while Prentice is immature, Kenneth made major mistakes in handling their conflict, too. And Kenneth's mistakes come from trying to dictate Prentice's thoughts. There is likely some crossover with Good Omens in the sense that I'm pretty sure both stories are going to take the position that people need to be allowed to make mistakes, and to do things that one perceives as mistakes, without getting written off as "stupid" or "bad" or otherwise "unworthy."

Suffice it to say that the human characters in Good Omens will also certainly play into these themes, but it's hard to write about them when we don't know much about them except that one of them is almost certainly the reincarnation of Jesus. This also makes me suspect perhaps the human cast will be 100% entirely all-new, or mostly new, symbolic of how Aziraphale and Crowley have immersed themselves in the ever-evolving, ever-changing world of life on Earth. Alternatively, if we encounter human characters again from Season 1 or 2, perhaps the ways they've grown and changed will be highlighted. For example, even in real-world time, Adam and Warlock have already, as of the time I'm writing this, gone through at least one entire life stage (from 11 in 2019 to 16 in 2024). They'll be legal adults in a couple of years, and if there's a significant time skip, they could be much older. If characters from Season 1 do reappear and themes from The Crow Road are prominent, I would expect either some key scenes highlighting contrasts and changes from their younger selves or for stagnation and growth to be a central part of their plot.

The more I write, the more I just interpret everything in circles. Hopefully this post has at least given you a decent idea of what The Crow Road is like and how it may relate to Good Omens.

I'll end this post with a quotation that feels relevant:

Telling us straight or through his stories, my father taught us that there was, generally, a fire at the core of things, and that change was the only constant, and that we – like everybody else – were both the most important people in the universe, and utterly without significance, depending, and that individuals mattered before their institutions, and that people were people, much the same everywhere, and when they appeared to do things that were stupid or evil, often you hadn’t been told the whole story, but that sometimes people did behave badly, usually because some idea had taken hold of them and given them an excuse to regard other people as expendable (or bad), and that was part of who we were too, as a species, and it wasn’t always possible to know that you were right and they were wrong, but the important thing was to keep trying to find out, and always to face the truth. Because truth mattered. Iain Banks, The Crow Road

[gojoidyll]

Infinity

Yandere ! Gojo Satoru x Female ! Reader

Part 2 | my childhood friend

Warnings | Gojo is kind of clingy, y/n is shy and has a stutter (at first), grammatical errors, etc.

Notes | this fic will be using she/her pronouns for y/n. Also this is a reincarnation fic, so Gojo's name will not be "Satoru" in this part. And please let me know if you want to be in a taglist for this series !! ^-^

Summary | And I'd choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I'd find you and I'd choose you.

Infinity Masterlist

year 1102 AD

GOJO SHIRO was at the tender age of twelve when he regained his past life's memories, and with a sudden burst of excitement he realized that he was indeed living a new life as a reincarnation of his former self. With such news, he immediately set off with such knowledge and past experiences. He knew things as such a young age that baffled many adults. Which was to no surprise to the young Gojo. Though, truthfully, he had no intention of revealing how he had such vast knowledge and instead would give the simple answer of "I like to study when I'm not training." Which was believable to most adults with in the Gojo clan because they would take notice how the young future head of the clan would wander straight towards the clan's sacred library.

Little did they know, however, was that he was actually researching the l/n clan and trying to see if y/n even existed in this time period. And, much to his dismay, he would find that after his first death the l/n clan would have fallen from grace. (Which was very much deserved, mind you.) But now he had no way of finding her, of find y/n, or knowing if was even born yet or even if she would have the last name l/n or the first name y/n.

Because look at Gojo.

Sure, he still has the six eyes. His powerful cursed techniques that he will be expected to hone as he ages. Yet he has a different first name. So the same could be expected of y/n if she got reincarnated as well. But he knew that once he saw her, he would know that it was her. Without a doubt. Mainly because he wholeheartedly believed that when one is reincarnated, their personality stays the same. Their soul never changes. I mean, the only thing about him that changed was his first name for goodness sake! So the same could easily be said about his y/n. Easily.

However ...

"Oh! How frustrating!"

It was still very frustrating.

He slammed the book shut and pushed it aside. His gaze settling onto the nearest wall.

It was clear to him that searching through books on whereabouts of the l/n clan were no longer going to work. If he wanted to find his cute little maid, then he was going to have to leave the Gojo Estate. Simple, right? So, that was exactly what he set out to do. And much to his surprise, no one really stopped him. Probably because he was already at such a high position within the clan as the next head and all.

And thats how he found himself wandering the streets. Many people bustled around him but didn't dare to step in his path for it was easily known as to who he was and how much power he had.

Well, that was until he felt a small tug on his sleeve.

Rolling his eyes, he couldn't believe someone had the audacity to bother him, especially considering how he was busy looking for y/n. Not that whoever was pulling at him to get his attention needed to know that.

"What."

Though the moment that the word left his mouth, his whole body froze up when he had turned to look at the person who was bothering him. His brillant blue eyes fixated on the slightly smaller girl before him.

She looked exactly the same as before.

"Uhm- i- i- I'm so sorry, Lord Gojo! But- but you- i-," she stuttered over her words like a fool. She shut her eyes as she tried to find the right words she wanted to say, "its just.. us kids were going to play a game and- and we were wondering if you want to play with us. We- we know you probably have better things to do.. but but we j- just .. just wanted to be friends since- since w-we saw you pass by and and we never see you out from the estate walls, so..."

She blabbered on. To anyone else, they may have tried to cut her off or shut her up. But to Gojo? He was on cloud nine. In his past life, he only got to see her when she was a teenager, and that was only for a year before her life was taken from him. But now? Now he has a chance to get to know her as a child. They can grow up together, learn about each other at the same pace without someone threatening them. It made a smile stretching across his lips.

"Sure," he said suddenly, "I'll come play with you all. But...only on one condition."

She brightened at first when he agreed to come play but instantly deflated at the condition. He wasn't going to ask for money was he?! Her dirt smudged face and tattered clothes were proof enough of her wealth. So, she really did hope he didn't ask for anything too grand.

"Mmhmm, want to hear the condition?"

She shakily nodded and he basked in her shyness and fear. He found it was really fun to tease her! And he planned on teasing her a lot in the near future.

Booping her on the nose with an index finger, he grinned, "well, its actually two conditions. But don't worry, its within your power to fulfill them easily."

Rubbing her nose, she silently urged him to continue.

"First, I want you to call me Shiro. No more of that lame Lord Gojo crap. And second .. what's your name? You want me to come play with you, but don't offer an introduction? Honestly, I'm hurt."

He faked a pout while laying a hand on his chest. His heart beating rapidly against his palm and he silently hoped she wasn't able to hear it.

She bowed suddenly, "r- right! I'm s- sorry Lord- uhm- I mean! I'm sorry Shiro!"

She straightened back up as a blush coated her (color) cheeks. Her hand shakily jutting out as her feet moved from side to side in a nervous manner.

"I'm y/n and- and I was wondering if you like to come and play with me and my friends.."

His heart did a backflip and he internally swooned. So cute!

He immediately snatched her hand into his own despite her hand being slightly dirty than his clean, pristine one.

"I would love to!"

[thatacotargirl]

A Court of Emberfall and Starlight (1)

A warm welcome to A Court of Emberfall and Starlight! This series will explore Eris and Rhys' Sister Reader. I am beyond excited at what this new story will bring, I hope you follow along for the journey!

The character of Rhys' Sister Reader has experienced trauma from her time Under the Mountain. This is not explored in this chapter, but will be explored in future chapters. Please take care to read the warnings for each chapter before you begin.

A special thank you to @the-wall-willow for requesting this pairing 💜

Warnings: descriptions of a panic attack, allusions to trauma

An Eris x Rhys' Sister Reader Fanfiction

Reader POV

With the number of targets we have on our backs and the war with Hybern looming, it's no surprise that my brother has me under lock and key in our home.

It doesn't mean I have to be happy about it.

After Rhys and I came back from Under the Mountain, it was like a switch had flipped in his brain. We had always been the 'dynamic duo', as Cassian called us, scaring our parents half to death with our stupidly daring and adventurous antics. But, after what we went through, it was as though Rhys saw just how close to death we had been, and couldn't stand the thought. Our nighttime flights and audacious excursions ceased immediately and everywhere I went, one of Azriel's shadows followed closely behind. As the hostility between Courts increased, so did my protections, until now - where I am effectively under house arrest for the foreseeable future.

I love my brother and I know he worries, but if I have to spend another day trapped in these walls, I think I might scream.

-

"Y/N, ARE YOU READY YET?"

I'm pretty sure the entire population of Velaris just heard Cassian ask if I am ready. Looking in the mirror, I smooth down my black satin skirt and adjust the silver, cropped tank top. With a brief nod to myself, I head out of my bedroom and down to the living room, where Cassian is waiting to fly me to the River House.

I am living at the House of Wind at the minute, sharing a home with Cassian and Azriel. Rhys wanted me to stay at the River House with him and Feyre, but I argued that I needed my own space - largely so I didn't have to hear them every time I left the room. I mean, really, on the dining table? I eat breakfast there!

Rhys agreed to me moving into the House of Wind as long as I agreed to not leave without Cassian or Azriel accompanying me. Like I'd be able to otherwise... I am quite happy to walk down the 10,000 steps to the street, but walk back up 10,000 steps? Not a chance. I also have to do weekly check-ins with Rhys to make sure I am ok, especially after what happened Under the Mountain. I still haven't spoken about it with anyone, not even Rhys, and he treats me like a fragile snow globe as a result - worried that he'll say the wrong thing and I'll crash and burn.

Today, however, is a little different. Today we are all heading to the River House to discuss the plan for tomorrow's High Lord meeting. All the High Lords will be visiting the Night Court to talk battle preparations ahead of the impending Hybern threat. Now that the High Lords know about Velaris, and at Helion and Tarquin's insistence that they see it, Rhys offered to host as an olive-branch gesture to ensure their alliance should war break out.

"Ready".

You smile at Cassian as you approach and let him tuck his arms under your back and knees, before taking to the skies. You roll 180 degrees in his arms once you're flight-born so he is holding you with both hands under your stomach and your body facing down towards Velaris. It's one of your favourite ways to fly, letting your arms swing out in front of you like you have wings of your own. You can feel Cassian's chest shake with a chuckle as you hold your arms out like a bird, enjoying the way the wind feels around your face. You didn't inherit Rhys' ability to grow wings. In fact, you didn't seem to inherit Rhys' anything. Despite being almost a century old and technical heir to the Night Court, until Rhys and Feyre have their first child, you hadn't yet displayed a single power of your own.

Cassian lands gentle on the balcony of the River House and you give his shoulder a gentle pat in thanks before walking through to find your brother.

"RHYYYYYYSSAAAANNNNNNDDDDD"

"Cauldron, y/n, I'm right here".

You grin as Rhys rounds his office door and engulfs you in a bear hug.

"I've missed you".

"Yeah yeah, don't pull the soppy big brother bullshit on me now". But you hug him just that bit tighter.

"Thank you for coming, we could use your input for the meeting tomorrow".

"My input? Rhys, I'm flattered, but I'm as useful as a chocolate teapot for anything to do with you High Lords".

Rhys chuckles before ruffling your hair and pulling you into his office.

"You've always had a way with words, and we need to appease all the High Lords to make sure we're allied should Hybern strike. It's going to be hard enough with Tamlin attending, let alone Beron".

"Tamlin and Beron are coming?"

You shudder in mock horror, much to Rhys' amusement.

"Yes, both of them. And whilst I might be the one and only Night Court High Lord, no one holds a candle to you when it comes to pulling on heartstrings and having them wrapped around your finger".

He's not wrong. From the moment you were born, you had Rhys wrapped around your little finger. He was your built in best friend and protector. Once Cassian and Azriel joined the picture, you suddenly have 3 best friends and 3 protectors, all of whom would kill for you. Or run out to buy you ice cream at 2 in the morning. Or really anything else you asked them for.

"Fine, I'll help".

"That's my girl. Will you stay here tonight? It would be nice to have you stay for dinner".

"I'd like that. What time will dinner be?"

"7pm - and it'll just be you, me, and Feyre. Cassian has gone to join Az in Windhaven and they won't be back until tomorrow morning now; and Feyre should be home from the studio at around 6ish".

You nod in response and turn to leave, letting Rhys carry on with whatever he was working on at his desk. Looking at the clock as you leave his office, you see that it's only 3pm. A mischievous smile crosses your face as you turn back, checking that Rhys has his back to you, before turning left out of his office towards the front door. Opening it as quietly as you can, you take one last look behind you, before making a break for it.

-

Velaris at 3pm in the early autumn is one of the most special times. There is a slight chill in the air, but the sun still warms you enough to be comfortable. The trees are turning, their red, orange and yellow colours filling your sight as far as you can see. Autumn might just be one of your favourite times of the year, besides Starfall and the Winter Solstice, naturally.

You want to get your brother and Feyre a gift, or maybe dessert for tonight, but you don't want them to know that you snuck out of the House alone against their instructions. Sighing, you decide that you might as well make the most of it, and enjoy a cup of coffee and a slice of cake at your favourite bakery on the Rainbow. You make your way there, walking in a happy daze, watching the rest of Velaris' citizens bustling about with their day. It makes you smile, seeing how happy everyone looks. But with each smiling face, you're reminded of what you had to do to guarantee it. What you had to sacrifice for it. You feel your steps start to falter and you slow down, suddenly feeling an anxiety you hadn't realised was brewing in your chest at the thought of entering the bakery and speaking with the staff. You feel your chest tighten and your breathing become ragged.

Not again.

Looking around, you can't find anywhere private to hide. Although he will be furious, you attempt to call to Rhys, but you're met with a solid, obsidian wall - no doubt in concentration as he prepares for tomorrow's meeting.

You can sense your legs beginning to heat and a jelly-like feeling starts to pass over them. You need to find somewhere to sit, or you will go down in the middle of the street.

Approaching the edge of the Sidra, you drop to the railing, trying to gulp in air but feeling like your lungs are suffocating. You can't get control of your breaths, and your heart is speeding at rapid pace, making everything around you fade in and out of focus. Tears stream down your face and everything hurts.

"Hey, you're safe, you're safe".

A hand gently touches your shoulder, deepening the pressure there once they see you don't flinch away. Grounding you.

"Tell me 5 things you can see".

"The Sidra, the Rainbow, the Book Store, the clouds, my hands".

"Good, now 4 things you can feel".

"The grass, the railing, the wind, the ground, my skirt"

"3 things you can hear".

"The water, the people, you".

"2 things you can smell".

"Coffee and cinnamon".

"1 thing you can taste".

"The pastry I had for breakfast".

You feel the stranger laugh next to you.

"What pastry?"

"It was a custard pastry".

"Was it nice?"

You chuckle. "Yes, it was".

"How are you feeling?"

You check in with yourself, and are surprised to notice that the panic attack has stopped. Your heart is still definitely beating faster than it should be, but you don't feel the impending sense of doom, and your breathing has slowly returned back to normal.

"Better, thank you. How did you do that?"

"My brother has panic attacks sometimes, I use that to help him too".

You look up to lock eyes with the stranger, and kneeling in front of you is the most handsome male you have ever seen. You see a shine flare across his eyes as he studies your face. The male clearly isn't from here. If his red hair wasn't a giveaway, his clothes would have been. Exquisitely embroidered and tailored to fit his body to perfection, it features detailed patterns of flames and red leaves.

The Muse of Autumn. You make a note to share the image with Feyre and ask her to paint him.

"Thank you".

"You're most welcome".

The stranger helps you to your feet, making sure to check you are steady before he lets go of your arms.

"Would you like me to walk you home?".

You consider the offer, but Rhys is already going to be angry if he realises that you left the house by yourself, let alone if your return with a random male in tow.

"I'll be ok, thank you though".

"My pleasure ...?"

"Y/n".

"My pleasure, y/n".

The stranger bows gently to you before walking away towards the coffee shop. As you start to make your way back to the house, bracing yourself for Rhys' fury, you realise you never asked the stranger for his name in return.

[reveluving]

see you on thursday ; jeff sadecki x reader

summary: the future starts to seem brighter when Jeff reunites with a familiar face in front of the therapy clinic. 

warnings: bits of angst ; infidelity (teen!Jeff, not on reader), Shauna slander (sorry but it’s a habit at this point kdlsjsdl), your issue is unspecified in therapy (besides the plane crash), self-deprecating humour, Jeff's a little ashamed about therapy but you talk him through it. all in all, loads of fluff! 🩷

a/n: based on this ask because who am I to say no to this handsome? can't thank you enough for sharing with me this lil' idea and I hope to see more!! 💋 don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» fancy reading another Jeff fic? check out the m.list!

'But it was over. It was like a total reset, as if life was finally giving him the chance to be good.' ;

Jeff was the first to see you, and the second he recognized who you are, he immediately turned around, standing awkwardly in hopes that the girl he truly had a good relationship with back in high school didn't see him like this; from a well-off charmer to nothing more than a newly divorced man who has been seeking therapy for a few months or so.

Surely, that wasn’t her, right?

“Jeff?” His stomach flipped, cursing his luck. 

“(Y/N), hey,” He mentally facepalmed, embarrassed for eagerly greeting her even before his eyes landed on her, “Surprised to see you here.” 

“You're telling me,” You grinned, “You just finished your session today?”

“Yeah… You?” 

“Just got here,” You cocked your head in the direction of the entrance, “Running a little late, though. But it’s really nice seeing you. See you around!”

“Yeah, yeah, see you around.” His voice fell to a whisper by the time you entered the building. It all happened so fast, not a second was offered for him to just… digest whatever just happened.

You saw each other again a week later, greeting each other in a rush once again as it was Jeff who was running late to his session. By the time you bumped into each other again the third time, you realized your sessions aligned. 

Every Thursday, with Jeff's usually an hour before yours.

You had different therapists, though, with Jeff's specializing in his past mistakes and yours highlighting the uncertainties for your future. 

The first month of your reunion was nothing more than a quick chat in the waiting room or by the smoking area outside the clinic, with none of you dared to ask about the other's issue—the immediate sign of trust and comfort. 

Mustering the sheer courage to ask you out for coffee at a nearby café was hard, asking a particular question was harder, largely because he wanted to word it right. 

“You weren't like, scared?” He approached the topic ever so slowly upon questioning your decision to try therapy.

“I'd be lying if I said I wasn't,” You shrugged, swirling your cup, “Trust me, it took me a while. But I wasn't really getting somewhere, just thinking about it. I mean, having nightmares about being in a plane crash is one thing, who's to say there won't be a crazier, more traumatising thing than that in the future?”

He chuckled—he learned you had a knack for lightening up the mood for a topic you were still recovering from. 

But he also wanted to know one more thing. An embarrassing thought, but like you said; he wouldn't be going anywhere if he didn't at least voice it out.

“And you don't think it's a little weird to see me going to one? And me looking like this?” He motioned to himself from head to toe with a quirk of his brow. He didn't mean it in an egotistical way, not by any means. But he'd be lying to both you and himself to say he wanted to flee when he saw you after over a decade. 

“To be honest, I was kinda surprised you even recognized me at the centre.” He continued, the corner of his lips quirking half-heartedly.

“Jeff,” You said his name with a chuckle, and boy, was it the sweetest sound he had ever heard, “It’s the 21st century. If anything, I think you’re real brave for…” You motioned your hands around, hoping to find the right words, “Y’know, breaking the norm. Putting your fear and ego aside for potentially positive life-changing advice. And besides, I can’t forget a cute face.” 

Oh.

Ever since the bashful look growing on his face as he stared into his drink, you made it a point to compliment him often. Each is as genuine as the last. 

“Hey, we're scared of things we might not be aware of. Scared of making mistakes, whether we've done it before or not. But at least we know we're going through some shit. If anything, I'm a little more confident going to therapy, knowing that a familiar face is going there, too,” It was impossible not to mirror the smile on your face, albeit, yours more comforting than his, “We'll get through it. Together.” 

You meant it platonically. 

He knew that you meant it platonically. 

And yet, none of you could help it. 

It took a while to make your feelings explicitly known to each other, largely because both of you wanted to be better before taking the big leap. 

Your first true date, funnily enough, wasn't at your usual café. Much less of the milky coffee he'd get or the watered-down iced drink you'd opt for. Rather, he brought you to a quaint diner he had frequented during the last few months of his crumbling marriage with Shauna.

“Sorry about your divorce.” Somehow, Shauna became the subject in hand, but not in an awkward way.

“You didn’t even like her.” His tone wasn't accusatory but more so a lighthearted fact, paired with a knowing smile. 

“You’re right, I didn’t,” You responded with little to zero regrets, and so was the look on your face, “But you did. Love ain't easy to brush off.”

You were truthful yet considerate, if that made sense.

He knew that someday, the diner would play a big part in his life, even after he became a bachelor. It was one of the places he sought after if the house felt too stuffy, too awkward to be even in the same building as his ex-wife. Too many thoughts about her disloyalty, and soon enough, his own when he was a teen. 

He wants to be better. He always has since he and Shauna became a thing, when he became a husband, and he held onto that hope for too long, even when he saw that the relationship was hanging onto a thread. 

It was bound to happen. It was karma. It was the universe coming back to bite him in the ass, and he accepted it.

But it was over. It was like a total reset, as if life was finally giving him the chance to be good.

And he will, as he always has for years.

With the weekend rolling around, he didn't have to worry about closing his store in a rush to head over to your place. Not once has he ever come over empty-handed, especially with takeouts that would leave you with leftovers for the morning after. 

This time, he found you just about to carry a big box. 

“Whoop, whoop, hey. Hang on,” He tried to get your attention, picking up the pace without the risk of dropping the sets of lunch he had bought, “Let me get that for you.” 

“I can handle it.” You reassured, hands still holding the box but not lifted just yet.

“Nope. I'm not moving until you put it down.” He was dead set on helping you, standing in the middle of the walkway with a supposedly serious look. Still, you giggled—if he had dog ears, they would've definitely drooped. 

You fondly rolled your eyes, “Okay, okay. At least let me hold the food?” 

He relented, knowing he couldn't say no with the way you fluttered your lashes at him. He passed the bag of food to you so he could easily carry the box, but not before making a show by puffing his chest to hear your irresistible laugh.

As if that wasn't enough to make his heart flutter, you pressed your lips against his cheek, pulling back with a little ‘smooch’. A flush of embarrassment rose to his cheeks, and before he even realized it, a goofy smile made its way to his face.

“Thank you. One of these days, I'll make it up for your chivalry.” 

“I mean,” He was almost too shy to meet your gaze. Almost, “I won't say no to your kisses. They're kinda nice” 

He wanted to sound as nonchalant as possible, but he wasn't fooling anybody, and it showed when you playfully pouted. 

“Just ‘kinda nice’?” 

He huffed in amusement, and he didn't let himself mull over his own doubts when he quickly pecked your cheek, breaking away just as quickly before you could even enjoy his soft lips. 

“They're very nice.” He corrected, more confident and relaxed than before.

You weren't certain how long you'd been staring into each other’s eyes before you responded.

“Good, because I enjoy your pretty little kisses, too,” The stiffness in his shoulders had visibly eased. There was no way you could stop yourself from planting another one, this time, tiptoeing to kiss the tip of his nose. 

“Plus,” You turned around, heading to the door while speaking over your shoulders, “I have plenty.”

That seemed to have snapped him out of his moment of enjoyment, though the grin that you loved remained. He immediately jogged up to you when you held the door for him. 

Only to catch you by surprise by stealing another kiss before casually walking off to your living room with the box.

“I'm putting this on the table!” 

You were elated to hear the excitement in his voice. An indication that whatever you and Jeff were having from this moment on…

Was just the beginning.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

Bonus:

If you're like me who's obsessed with aquariums, then I come bearing an extra!

Though your home was a lot smaller than Jeff’s, be it a one-storey house or a high-rise, it was also full of life. Thoughts and time were made into your decision-making in your decorations, not only to make your sanctuary pleasing to the eye but also, well, a sanctuary. A place where you sought comfort and safety. There has never been a day where he’s greeted with an environment of eerie silence; a funky jazz song played at low volume, random news playing on the TV, or just you humming a tune—an indication of a good day—there’s always a sign in your home that practically said; ‘this house breathes life’.

But after a rare busy day at the furniture store, he comes over at night. 

With the extra key you gave him, he opens the door. No TV, no radio, not even a hum. But you did call him over from the living room.

“In here!” Blue light illuminates from said room, and Jeff’s come over long enough to know it wasn’t any of your usual lamps, and paired with the sounds of water continuously running, he had a hunch of what it was. 

Still, nothing could’ve prepared for the sight before him.

He has seen your reef tank plenty of times, shallow and at a length that was almost half the size of the room, placed against the wall and away from the window. Granted, he’s only seen during the daytime, so he had never gotten the chance to enjoy the beauty of it at night. Plus, you had talked about how the tank, minus the fish, could survive with light and plankton alone, but you just liked to put some effort into something you loved.

Like today.

The corals and reefs were almost neon under the singular blue light—the only source of light at that moment. The gobies and harlequin shrimps seemed more active than what he was used to, especially with you feeding the ecosystem coral food with a turkey baster. Poised and calculated, no doubt this wasn’t your first rodeo.

“Hey,” You glanced up at him, eyes brighter and lit up under the unnatural light, “I’m almost done. We can eat in a bit if you don’t mind. Turn the TV on, if you want.”

He didn’t. He didn’t even glance at the remote, too focused on the lively set of life, all in the good hands of the person he couldn’t keep his eyes off of, such as now.

“Wanna help me out?” He blinked, too entranced that he didn’t even notice your head tilting up at him, and with a look like that, how could he say no?

He was extra careful, dipping the end of the baster close to a coral, the palythoas, only to express his amazement as the mouths began to close, capturing its food the way Venus flytraps would. The gobies, too, approached little by little, eager to be fed by the gentle stranger. You were glad that you weren’t even halfway into the feeding before he arrived, enjoying how happy he was to do honours.

The small space between the two of you grew little by little before there was none. Shoulder to shoulder before the two of you practically stayed glued to one another, watching over the ecosystem and pointing at almost anything and everything that was remotely happening in the tank. None of you were even sure when Jeff had his arms wrapped around you after they were all well-fed, but what both of you did know was that you stayed in each other’s arms for a long time.

a/n: they are so fucking cute together that I hate them.

a/n ii: don't let this puppy dog-eyed man fool you. you know damn well he's a freak in bed. we've seen it ;; gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

[strangersteddierthings]

Fic Masterpost

General Fic Tag Ao3 Account - All fics with [Ao3] next to them can be found here. Reference post for Steve's BMW

Bad News First, Eddie - Completed [Ao3] Part One 🦇 Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Final Part

Shovel Talk(s) - Completed [Ao3] Part One 🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Final Part

Porcelain Steve - Completed [Ao3] Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six🦇Part Seven🦇Part Eight🦇Final Part

What's Eight Plus Seven? - On Going - [Ao3] Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six

The Interview - Completed [Ao3] The Interview (Part One) The Response (Part Two) The Conversation (Part Three) Untitled Song - A The Interview Tie-In Fic [Ao3]

No Regrets - On Going Part One🦇 Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six

Good People - Completed [Ao3] Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part

My Default’s Self-Destruct (Oh, I’m Not Used to Normal) - On Going Part One

Envy, Baby. Written for Rustypeoplekillz for the Steddie Summer Exchange 2024. Eddie makes a new friend and Steve spirals about it.

Steve and Robin talk about how Steve wants to be romanced, instead of always doing the romancing.

Eddie's over dramatic, Steve talks him down, and they're okay in the end :)

Steve reflects on how other people make the decisions in his life and decides, y'know what? No. Fuck that and fuck you.

Beg You to Love Me - Steve and Eddie talk for the first time two and a half years after they break up. [Ao3]

Steve pines for Eddie and carves a pumpkin for the first time. He is completely normal about both things. [Ao3]

Eddie left, and has to face the consequences of that

Steve has great parents and goes to therapy. Too bad he forgot to tell his friends that [Ao3]

Middle School Meet Cute? [Ao3]

One sentence and one phone call are all it takes for Steve to realize he needs to go after what he wants [Ao3]

Steve's sad, Eddie's an (accidentally on-purpose) jerk, and the miscommunication gets solved? [Ao3]

Steve gets Vecna'd and a terrible rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody saves him

Angsty Ella Enchanted AU

Steve finds it funny, the differences between him and Eddie.

#81. “We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you want to stop and feel the rain?” [Ao3]

#23. “Just pretend to be my date.” and #60. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to seduce me.” [Ao3]

#60. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to seduce me." [Ao3]

#13. "I dare you to kiss me"

Requested by Anon - Eddie catches Billy throwing Steve around in the locker room; it leads to an unintentional deescalation of the situation and a conversation Eddie's surprised to have. [Ao3]

Steddie Week 2023: Day 1: Pining [Ao3]

Anon Prompt - Robin brags about her boyfriend to Steve. He's a little jealous, because he wants to brag about his own boyfriend but doesn't know if Robin is safe to tell that too. Until, whoops, turns out Robin's BF and Steve's BF are the same boyfriend. [Ao3]

Steve doesn't want to be put on a pedestal. Eddie doesn't understand, and tries to reassure Steve. [Ao3]

Eddie's friends try to prove Steve's cheating on him. Eddie doesn't take kindly to them trying to ruin his relationship for no reason.

Plot Idea I’ll never fully flush out or write but gotta get out of my head or it’ll never let me know peace again. It’s basically Steve sent from the future going all John Wick.

Steve-focused ficlet exploring the idea of Steve becoming a Mean Girl because he learned his tactics from Carol Perkins rather than Tommy, and how he regrets the results of that.

Domestic Bliss fluff fic that ends in a loving blow job. Minors DNI. [Ao3]

Childhood Best Friends AU where Steve and Eddie agree to learn the elvish script from The Hobbit so they can pass notes and no one can read them. Things get a little messy when Eddie moves away with no notice but Steve takes it upon himself to learn Elvish anyway. [Ao3]

Steve doesn't think before he all but crawls seductively into Eddie's lap accidentally. There's also not much thinking once he realizes what he's done, or in the aftermath of it. [Ao3]

Steve, Gareth, and Chrissy Are Cousins [Ao3]

Steve, Gareth, and Chrissy are all cousins, and Gareth doesn't want anyone to know that. For his street cred.

The Steve, Gareth, and Chrissy are cousins AU gets sad (Sad AU Part 1).

Steve realizes he's the only adult left In The Know in Hawkins; Gareth wants answers, one way or another (Sad AU Part 2).

Steve doesn't attend a funeral; Gareth goes with Jason&Co to Reefer Ricks (Sad AU Part 3).

The gang arrives at Skull Rock and Steve learns Gareth's now involved. Robin learns the truth (Sad AU Part 4).

Vecna gives Steve the vision and forces him to make a choice (Sad AU Part 5).

Everyone learns they are cousins now and it goes well. Gareth makes his own plan to save the day. (Sad AU Part 6).

Wayne joins the fight and Gareth ensures that Max gets saved (Sad AU Part 7).

The cousins reconcile. Max and Steve don't (yet). It's as happy an end as a Sad AU can get (Sad AU Final Part).

Time Travel Fix It Fic

Class of '85 [Ao3]

Save Max [Ao3]

September Prompts 2023

Coffee Smell ○ Horizon ○ Foggy Mornings ○ Jukebox ○ "Kiss me or leave me" ○ "Did you lie to me?" ○ Bonfire ○ Recipe Book ○ Gas Station

[lady-october]

Pairing : Oli Sykes x Female Assistant Genre : Romance, Smut (18+ Only) Future Chapters : Available on Ao3

Story Content : Smut, Drama, Choking, Power dynamics, Romance, Rough sex, Sadism/Masochism, Dom/Sub, Mentions of addiction & self harm, Degradation, Praise kink, Exhibitionism, Orgasm denial, Breath play, Dirty talk.

Summary :

“Don’t you see what a dangerous game you’re playing? Why did you have to look so fucking delicious tonight, I couldn’t stop undressing you in my mind, thinking of all the twisted things I want to do to you.” She had only worked on the touring team for three weeks, but her mind had been hijacked by dirty thoughts of a man she barely even talked to. Sure, he was very attractive, but were there other reasons she was so uncontrollably drawn to him? This is a filthy story of pain, self discovery, and love.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Chapter 1: Your eyes are swallowing me

Chapter title is lyrics from "Sleepwalking"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

I'd be lying if I said I hadn’t noticed him. 

So maybe I did take a little longer to get ready when I knew he'd be around; maybe my skirt was suddenly pulled up just that little bit higher than usual; maybe I loosened a button or two, but it's not like I was delusional enough to believe I ever had a shot with the man.

I was just an assistant. 

I did the menial tasks that usually went unnoticed. But sometimes when I came back with food he'd flash me the most wicked smile as he took it off me.

"Ta, love", and a shiver would run through my body.

It was the night after a big set in London, an apartment style hotel room had been booked for the whole band with a shared common space. The place had clearly been picked as a bit of a party accommodation to celebrate the tour. It was quite posh, lavish furniture, open planning, and a great view. All the things you'd expect of an expensive hotel. 

Everyone had gotten a bit too drunk tonight, and it was part of my job to make sure they got to bed to catch a flight tomorrow, so I was the only sober one here. 

It was also my job to make sure the alcohol kept flowing, the right guests were let in, and taxis were ordered. 

Despite how busy I was, I kept catching myself staring at him. I couldn't help myself, he was always such a delightful mess after a concert; dishevelled hair, smeared eyeliner, a bit sweaty – a wonderful mix of tired and happy. Essentially he always came off the stage looking like he'd just finished having some really good sex.

I shook my head, realising I'd been staring again.

Hopefully he hadn’t noticed.

The night went by in a blur of busy tasks. Suddenly it was four in the morning, I had just finished getting everyone to bed and all the guests out of there. I sighed deeply at the state of the place and began the daunting task of cleaning up. 

That's when I saw him across the room.

The lights were dimmed low as I’d been strategically turning them off throughout the night in the hopes that it would make everyone sleepier, so I was only able to make out the silhouette of a man.

He was sprawled on the sofa, legs spread and leaned back, but I could tell it was Oli – his long, fluffy hair is unmistakable.

"Oh fuck, Oli you scared the living shit out of me."

That was probably the longest sentence I'd ever dared say to him, as I was usually too flustered to form proper sentences, but the sheer exhaustion from the night and the adrenaline from surprise got the better of me.

I heard a laugh from the dark figure on the sofa, "Sorry love I didn't mean to scare you, but I'm not ready to sleep just yet." You could hear the words had been spoken with a lazy smile.

Suddenly I was very aware of the fact that we were all alone, and he sounded... 

No, I didn’t even dare think it.

He's just tired and drunk, surely that's the only reason he sounds so...

"R-right. Just remember we've got a flight tomorrow."

I could see his head tilt to the side as he contemplated what I’d said, but he clearly decided he didn't give a fuck, as his response came unbothered, completely ignoring my comment, "Get me another drink will you?"

Suddenly the walls felt as if they were closing in. I was nervous to say the least. I had never been alone with him before, and for some reason it felt weirdly intimate despite him being all the way across the room.

I didn't know how to respond beyond simply following his order, so I shakily turned around and walked over to the dining room table where all the drink bottles were lined up, while being entirely too aware of his gaze on me from behind. 

There was a rustle of fabric like he’d gotten off the sofa, followed shortly by the sound of his footsteps behind me by the table. 

I didn't get a chance to properly digest what was happening before his hands were firmly gripping my hips, making me gasp, the impact almost making me fall forward. Instead I instinctively braced myself against the table, nearly knocking over the half empty liquor bottles there.

My heart began racing, threatening to jump out of my chest, as I felt his hard cock clearly through the fabrics between us, pressing against my ass as I was pinned to the table. His hand quickly moved to my throat to prevent me from falling forwards further, as if he didn’t want me bent over, using it to guide my head close to his.

I was surrounded by him.

His scent, his hair falling into my view, his lips against my ear, his breath against my cheek, the hand on my throat possessive and firm. I was contorted, pinned painfully between the table and his warm body behind me as I was being held up by his grip.

His lips parted gently against my ear, and spoke in a tone I can only describe as carnal, "I get lonely you see, and I've noticed you noticing me. You want me, yeah?”

He had noticed after all.

I swallowed, hard.

“Will you nod for me love if you want me."

My heartbeat promptly moved between my legs.

I do want him – oh god do I want him. My whole body felt like it was on fire.

But his request was so much more than a search for knowledge of whether I wanted him or not, it was an inquiry of approval, a probing of whether I’d allow this to happen, or if we part ways here before anything further happens.

I nodded against his hand around my throat, causing his breath to speed up.

His lips spread into a smile against my ear, "Let’s have some fun then."

I was wearing a simple, strappy, mini dress so his hair fell onto my bare shoulders as he kissed my neck, his warm breath fanned my skin. My eyes shut from the delightful sensations, and I began mindlessly moving my hips against him, causing his grip on me to tighten.

"Ah, you like that don't you?"

I nodded again, probably a bit too eagerly. 

He chuckled, which I felt as a puff of warm air against my neck more than heard. His mouth returns to my ear, speaking lazily like a predator toying with its prey, "You're so fucking desperate for me, aren't ya?" 

My eyes flew open. I nodded again, slower this time, feeling exposed.

The truth is that I am desperate; desperate enough daydream about him constantly, to touch myself at night when I was all alone, imagining all ways I want to be fucked by him. In fact, I’d grown quite attached to using all my perverted thoughts about the man as a distraction from my life, from everything I’ve been through lately.

From pain.

"I bet you're soaking, I bet you have been all night." His grip on my hip relaxed, turning into a caress, moving towards the hem of my dress, lifting it slightly as his fingers trailed closer to my pussy. 

His voice darkened and intensified, "I reckon you've ruined your underwear just being near me." 

Then his hand finally reached my pooling wetness and my body immediately went electric, my knees buckled and my mouth fell open with a gasping, desperate moan as my hands mindlessly grabbed at his strong arm holding my throat to steady myself.

The hand that had just caused my brain to short circuit from a simple touch to my core, quickly retracted away to yank me back up from slumping over. 

"Sh, sh, sh, you're gonna have to be quiet or you're gonna wake the lads, can’t have that, can we?" He whispered playfully.

I just wanted him back between my legs, so I spoke, in such a desperate tone that I surprised myself, "I–I'm sorry, p--please, please don't stop."

His grip on me loosened to pull the skirt of my dress up to my waist, and slide my underwear down. I felt them pop over my ass before falling to my ankles on the floor. 

"We don't need these anymore." He muttered behind me as he returned to feel my pussy, this time without the soaking fabric stopping him. I felt his forehead on my shoulder as he moved along my folds with intent, his breath coming faster.

"To be honest with you love, I'm pretty fucking desperate too." Then he pushed two fingers into me and I was suddenly fighting for dear life not to moan. 

I gripped the table again to stay upright, willing my body to behave. The last thing I wanted was for him to stop.

His mouth replaced his forehead on my shoulder, kissing me with parted lips, biting slightly every so often, his hips pushed back into mine, causing me to feel his cock against my ass again – now only his fabrics between us.

I felt untethered, like I’d been transported somewhere else, into some wild fantasy; this couldn't possibly be happening. 

I turned my head slightly, searching, wanting to kiss him. His mouth moved to my neck, then my ear, then my cheek, leaving breathy kisses and bites where he wanted to.

Right when I thought he was going to turn me around to kiss him, he removed the fingers and placed the now soaking hand firmly on the back of my neck, pushing me forward. I gasped in surprise and disappointment at the hand once again disappearing from my pussy, but the grip was strong and I could only obey. I pushed the bottles in front of me forward as I was bent over so they wouldn't be knocked over. 

The shock of the sudden movements brought me back to reality and I started blushing. I was currently bent over a table, bare ass and pussy exposed to Oli Sykes, in the middle of a shared common room where any of the band mates could walk in at any point. This was insane.

But I didn’t want to be anywhere else.

"Fuck." he said under his breath behind me, "You're a vision…" Then I heard more fabric rustling, and suddenly something a lot warmer and bigger was at my entrance. 

How was I supposed to not moan? How was I supposed to not… 

And then he started pushing into me. 

I bit down on my lip so hard it would probably bruise, clawing at the table. A low moan came from behind me as he pushed deeper, to the hilt. He stopped there for a moment and leaned over me; I could feel his heat, the rising and falling of his chest, his laboured breathing against me, his soaking hand still possessively on the back of my neck. 

"You're doing great love, stay just like that, don't make a sound, yeah?" He whispered close to my ear.

That's when he started pumping, and I once again was transported to some other reality. I couldn't help it, I was moving, I felt wild, I wanted to scream, and suddenly I’d lost control again and another moan escaped my lips.

As soon as I did he stopped, his hand that had been pinning me to the table wrapped around my neck, leaving all the flesh there wet with my own juices, before pulling me back up against him.

His lips were back at my ear, hair back in my vision. “What a shame, you were doing so well for me.”

He pulled away and I felt him slip out of me, causing a pang of sadness to wash over me, thinking it's over, but in the same motion he turned me around, grabbing me by the hips to sit me on the table before him. He spread my legs to step between them, before our eyes met.

And suddenly it felt as if time stopped.

He is gorgeous. 

Dishevelled hair falling haphazardly around his face, lips slightly parted, the tattoos creeping up his neck, framing his face. His eyes were shining bright in the dim light, glassy but still intense. There was so much hunger in them, yet so much sadness.

The words slipped out of me without a thought, barely a whisper, “...Are you ok?”

His brows furrowed slightly as he searched my face, clearly not quite sure how to respond, like I'd thrown him off. You could tell he was intoxicated, as I don't think he'd be this honest with me, essentially a stranger, in a sober state – nor this forward. 

He spoke softly, “Tonight I wanted to throw everything away, just say fuck it; does anything really matter? I'm supposed to have my fucking shit together, yet all I want to do–” He looked away, shaking his head as he cut himself off. 

Silence filled the air around us for a long moment as he was lost in thought, then suddenly his eyes shot back to mine, speaking slowly, thoughtfully, “I've had my eye on you all night, and you look just as wrapped up in temptation as I feel. I just need an escape and I have a feeling you do too, don't you?”

His vagueness didn't matter, I knew what he was talking about, and I felt it too; the relentless pressure of life was crushing and there was a reason I couldn't keep my eyes off of him, why I wanted him so badly. Everyone could see there's something tortured about Oli, something passionate and wild that could barely be contained. 

And while I didn’t like to acknowledge it, I could relate. I also wanted to just let go, be free. Whatever that meant.

And I wanted to go there with him.

I reached out to touch his face, he flinched at the intimate gesture but didn't resist.

My mouth opened to speak, but I couldn’t find the words so I just nodded instead.

His expression softened and he nodded in return; a silent understanding that neither of us fully knew why the other needed this, but it didn’t matter. We didn’t need to know the intimate details about each other's pain to know we’re both desperate for some relief.

His eyes fell to my lips, “I just want to lose myself in you for a little while...”

Lose myself. 

Yes that’s it – a nice little escape from it all. I could feel a sombre smile spread across my lips. With the caress on his cheek I tried to guide him into a kiss, but instead he moved to my neck, tasting my juices still lingering there. 

He made a low rumbling noise in his chest then moved back to my ear, “You taste so sweet, love. Now, let's see if we can keep you quiet for this next bit.”

Pulling away he met my gaze again, this time with a faint devilish smile playing on his lips as he placed his hand over my mouth to encourage me to remain silent.

I didn’t resist, I wanted nothing more than to feel him inside me again.

It hit me that I am not sure exactly where my limits were, as long as he just continued using me.

Using me. 

That’s what it was, that’s what I craved.

I just want him to use me.

While this was news to me, I didn't want to think about this revelation now. The last thing I wanted to do right now was psychoanalyse myself. Thankfully I didn’t have to try very hard to shake the thought off, because Oli pulled me right back to the moment as his less busy hand slipped between us, guiding his cock back to me.

“I'll take things a bit slower at first, yeah? And you will stay quiet this time.” 

He was nodding his head while holding my gaze steadily, clearly expecting me to nod back in return.

So I did, looking nervous as I didn’t fully trust myself.

“Fuck, don't make that face love, I just want to start pounding to watch you struggle.”

Despite his last words, he entered me slowly. His eyes darken as he pulled me closer to him. Then he was moving inside me, that wicked smile tugging at the corners of his lips as his gaze lazily roamed me. When his eyes came back to meet mine I could see something wild flicker behind them, like a promise of things to come.

Yes.

He was moving faster, testing me to see if I could keep quiet. My nails were digging into his shoulders to retain control, but I was doing it, only the slightest of noises escaped me.

“That's it, just like that.”

He looked at the hand covering my mouth, the tip of his tongue playing against his teeth. The grip loosened and two fingers pushed playfully into my mouth, his breath catching at the sight, appearing positively feral. His movements stopped for a moment, before he thrust into me, hard, his smile turning into a more serious expression, as if he was at some type of breaking point.

As if he was really sick of containing himself.

“Fuck it.” He said in a deep tone before removing the fingers that had been feeling my tongue, replace them with his lips. His arms wrapped around me, kissing me deeply, moaning into my mouth as he began thrusting harder.

Our hands are everywhere, grabbing, pulling, pushing, clawing.

I felt fingers slip into my hair to yank my head back in order to bite my neck, and I couldn't help it, I whimpered in response.

But he didn't care, if anything it spurred him on.

After a moment he pulled away to push me down on the table once more, this time facing him.

I looked up at him; he looked dangerous, unleashed, almost animalistic. His hair was everywhere, his mouth was open, panting heavily, and I could barely see his eyes. The energy was infectious, I was smothered in it as I writhe on the table.

Yes, this is it. This is what I need.

He pulled the top of my dress and bra down in one swift and painful motion, his hand gripping my throat agonisingly hard.

Hard enough for normal breaths to become difficult.

A rush of adrenaline washes over me, a confusing yet delightful mix of fear and arousal. He must have noticed, as his grip on my neck loosened slightly, letting me know he was still in there somewhere, despite appearing almost possessed. 

With that knowledge I let go. 

I clawed at him, wrapped my legs around him. He was so warm and solid, and I felt as if I was drowning in it; in him. Our movements became a blur of pain and pleasure. 

Somewhere in the distance I heard glass bottles clanging, then one after another fell to the floor. 

Again, he didn’t care. 

The world had fallen away and it was only us and our ecstasy here.

His head lowered as his movements came slower, with more intent. In a deep, nearly unrecognisable voice he murmurs, “I'm close.”

Another rush of emotions washed over me. 

A certainty, an almost primal need. I spoke my wishes through clenched teeth in a strangled and desperate tone, “Cum in me.”

His grip on me tightens further, this time constricting my breathing entirely. He falls forward on top of me, burying his face in the crook of my neck next to the vice grip he held on my throat. My fingers dig into his hair, pulling him closer. His breath became ragged as I felt him filling me up with every thrust. 

After a moment I hear some of it drip onto the floor beneath us.

The grip on my neck loosened and I inhaled sharply.

We lay like this for a minute before coming back to reality, letting our heart rates slow down.

I was bewildered, yet amazed. 

What had just happened? I felt like I’d unlocked a whole new part of myself, a longing that I didn’t quite understand yet, something simmering under the surface for what felt like years. 

Something in me craved the danger, the fear, the pain, to be used. Like there was some depraved form of freedom in giving my body and mind to someone and letting them have their way with me. And not to mention; how can something make me feel this incredibly good, without having even reached orgasm from it?

In all the confusion, one thing felt completely unwavering;

I wanted more.

Thoughts were swimming around in my head when a gentle caress grazed my throat. It was a sweet gesture, the polar opposite of the aggression I’d just experienced during our shared bliss. My brows furrowed in confusion for a moment before he raised himself up, our faces only inches apart. I studied his expression, he appeared worried – questioning.

A soft, almost boyish voice spoke, “Are you alright?”

Such simple words, but the question wasn’t. 

I could tell he wanted to know if I felt unsafe, if I was in pain, and if what transpired between us had crossed a line. If he had crossed a line.

My face blooms into a tired smile, “Yes. I’m a bit confused, but I’m good.”

His expression softened some but not fully, and he started searching my neck and chest for any signs of injury, but I grabbed his hands to stop him. 

“Really, I’m okay. I didn’t know I could feel like this. I-I don’t fully understand it…“ I paused to try and find the words, “Tonight you’ve done more for me than I could–” 

He cuts me off with a kiss, much more tender than our previous ones. After a moment he pulls away to speak, “Oh love, you have no idea.”

I continued smiling, I couldn’t stop, and his features mimicked mine. 

My words came sheepishly, “Maybe we could do this again?” 

Right as I finished speaking another audible drop of cum was heard hitting the floor beneath us. We both exhale a small laugh – an acknowledgement of how bizarre the situation was.

He brushed some hair away from my face, “How about we have a little chat tomorrow, yeah? When we’re both a bit more clear headed.”

I couldn’t tell if he just wanted a way out, or if he wanted to make sure I was really okay with what had happened tonight. So I just nodded.

“Alright, let’s get you sorted then shall we?” He helped me into a sitting position and attempted to adjust my clothes a bit, as if I wasn’t the picture of freshly fucked; one of my dress straps had torn, my hair was completely messed up, with equally messy makeup, and of course – literally dripping cum. 

I had to stifle another laugh.

He pulled away, adjusting his own clothes, and shot me one last smile before slipping back to his room.

I sat there for some time, taking in the mess all around me. Almost all the bottles were on the floor, with one of them having shattered. 

How had I not noticed? 

There wasn’t a chance everyone in the band hadn’t heard us. 

This will be awkward tomorrow.

... Continue reading on Ao3

[doctorofmagic]

No one asked but here's some thoughts about Stephen's current and future life.

First of all (and to be completely honest), before Blood Hunt, I do think Stephen was starting to find joy in being the Sorcerer Supreme now that things were seemingly going well in his life.

Just to name a few, he befriended his general self, his marriage was rekindled, Mordo was finally locked down, Clea and Umar were starting to find a common ground (at least, they were not enemies anymore) and Donna II happened, blessing their lives. Stephen was finally thriving. He was executing his duties just fine despite the challenges of being Earth's magical defender. Conflict was obviously expected but it was far from the struggles he faced in v4, for instance. There was optimism.

The fact that he seems sad in that Pasqual's post could be about anything but if I was to predict why, I'd say it's because 1) he didn't want to pass the mantle down at this point in his life and 2) he didn't want to pass the mantle down to Victor specifically because well, it's Doom. And let's be real, Jed's interpretation of their relationship is not similar to T&T or Infamous Iron Man or even Secret Wars. Even if Victor is rarely portrayed as a villain these days (more like an antagonist), there's still a certain dread whenever he shows up in stories. So it's only natural for Stephen to be worried about what's coming next.

Personally, I think Victor will not be a bad Sorcerer Supreme. He's competent and incredibly complex. There's altruism in him, especially when it comes to protect Latverians and people in general (Doom 2099 my beloved). And let's not forget about his dramatic ego and petty personality. If anything, I'd go for a gray representation. He will not be the king of altruism (aka Stephen), but he will not be a shallow villain by desecrating the mantle (something I'm pretty sure Mordo would do. Hate that guy). That said... Oh, he's also in for a big surprise, not expecting the burden that comes with such a huge responsibility. But that's just my two cents. Could always be wrong. However, I still remember when he tried to go after Jericho and gave up as soon as the light of the Eye of Agamotto hit him, so... This idea does have canon support.

(panel merely illustrative; from an alt future/reality)

As for Stephen and Clea, what comes next for them? I know the fandom is desperate for domestic vibes and a peaceful era for them. But let's be real, it's Marvel. Also it's Stephen and Clea. For starters, Clea is still the Warlord of Manhattan, which means that area will remain under her protection, tying her to our dimension. As for Stephen... We know him, right? We know he will never stop doing what he does, Sorcerer Supreme or not. We have tons of magic characters doing their jobs. Even when magic was practically dead, he found a way to keep doing good because it's intrinsic of his personality. And let's not forget Wong and W.A.N.D. They still need someone reliable, and I hardly think they'll go for Victor when consulting all things mystical. Oh, and Strange Academy, of course.

Last but not least, every change in status quo hardly lasts more than a year or two in comic books. It happened so many times before: Salomé, Jericho, Loki, even Clea. It was only natural for Victor's turn, given how T&T is such an important book to their mythos.

As for me? I think it's not really fair for me to share my feelings assuming how much I love both Victor and Stephen. I've seen some unhappy fans (and I can't relate, sorry 🥲) and some excited ones.

The reason I'm still kinda blue is merely due to the lack of new announcements, whether it's a new Doctor Strange book or a mini featuring Victor. Also it's almost certain that Jed is done with his work, which hit me like a train. I really don't want to say goodbye to Jed just yet, and seeing his work continue with Moon Knight while going for the X-books makes me a bit bitter. There's still the possibility that he's staying, but it's all conjecture at this point. I mean, I dread that some bad writer comes next, and boi do I have a no-no list. Hopefully, SDCC will shed some light on these dark times of uncertainty.

Well, that's it. Do I ramble a lot? Was not expecting to write such a long post, sorry about that (old testament me comeback?). Just wanted to write down my thoughts since they were making a mess in my head. If anything, I'll still be around for whatever comes next. After all, my love for Stephen knows no shame 🔥

[buffyfan145]

Hello! I've seen a lot of your takes about the relationship between Sauron and Galadriel, so I decided to ask you. Some people keep saying that the kiss that so much is being talked about will be between Gal and Cel, but like why? There's not a single hint that he's going to appear this season, no one even mentions his name, not to mention that he wasn't even cast. Usually in shows somehow try to prepare the viewer to the appearance of a new character or something. I mean it will be somehow out of nowhere, plus it's too early for him. And I think when they actually cast Cel actor, it won't be hidden and they'll say it directly. Anyway I'm Haladriel shipper, but I don't think the kiss will be between them, at least in the classical sense. Maybe Sauron kiss her hand or something like that? Also, I want to add about the kiss between Gal and Cel, let's say it's true, but why is the kiss described as shocking? Like they're husband and wife. And I also saw a couple of opinions that a kiss is possible between Gal and Elrond, which seems even more improbable to me. Like she put her hand on Elrond's chest and some considered it a romantic gesture… but she was literally thinking about Halbrand at that moment! And I have one more question for you, what do you think about the shot where Galadriel is wearing a hood at night and someone is standing behind her, maybe a random orc or Halbrand or someone else? I hope my message didn't scare you with its long :D

No worries about the ask being long. I've actually gotten longer. LOL 😀 I have posted about the kiss before and who it could be with her and it's not Celeborn. I think it's people hoping it's him but he hasn't been cast. The writers confirmed it at SD Comic Con but did say both him and Glorfindel will eventually be in the show. I agree with you when he is cast it will be announced separately as he will be a series regular. There is a chance he could show up in the finale as a surprise but I still kind of doubt it. They're going to have to choose the right actor too, especially with how Haladriel has been and the chemistry between Morfydd and Charlie, which makes me think it could be someone well known that already has a fanbase. I'm hoping for that too as we know she ends up with him and I want him to be likable (also would be great if it's someone I'm already a fan of LOL) and show that she loves him too. But again I'm certain he's not in season 2 at all.

Then I highly doubt it's Elrond, despite some "leaks" on 4Chan and Reddit saying it is, since Morfydd gave an interview at the s2 premiere in London back on the 20th that she loved filming their non-romantic friendship. Her saying that implying there's no kissing like that at all between them, and knowing he's her future son-in-law I can't see the show going there.

So that brings me back to Sauron. I can't see it being anyone else besides maybe Celebrimbor as he was in love with Galadriel in some 1st Age stories before she married Celeborn, but the show would have to get permission to use that from the estate and it seems a bit strange now to do that.

I agree too it could be a hand/ring kiss and I've thought this since the filming video came out for the music in the s2 finale. However, now the show in ep 2.2 showed she's in love with Halbrand/Sauron. Then yesterday we got confirmation from their main director in a podcast interview that by the end of the season she said the show will show that Sauron actually loves Galadriel too. So it's more of a tragic love story as they both are in love but they are enemies and we know it ends tragically and they can't be together. So it's starting to seem possible they do actually share a kiss. I don't want to get my hopes up too high but it does seem to be leaning that way, especially with it being "shocking" as me being a fan since the movies came out when I was in high school I never thought I'd ship them and some still don't see it as romantic, but this would actually prove it is.

So we'll see what happens and I'm sure we'll get more clues each week with the new episodes. And about that scene with the hood I think it's either an arc or Adar. We know she gets captured by them but also ends up working with him. So it could be when that happens.

[dessarious]

What Makes a Family? Pt28

Beginning   Previous

"Well, this is it." Marinette didn't know why she was so nervous about this. It was just a school. A school with great access points and camera blind spots. So, wonderful for hero work, but pretty terrible for student safety. Bruce wouldn't try to pull her out because it was less secure than the fortress Cass said her brothers went to, would he? Worse, he could insist on installing updated security and make her life a lot harder. Note to self; do not let Bruce know anything about her school life.

"You need to unclench Dupain-Cheng. You're making me nervous and that doesn't happen." Chloe's dry comment at least let her breathe again. "And I thought I hated this place." The way she muttered it, Marinette was fairly certain Chloe didn't mean to be heard.

"It's not that. I just occurred to me that Mr. Wayne might check security measures if Cass is going here and that could be... inconvenient."

"Yeah, Damocles doesn't say no to powerful people, especially if they're willing to foot the bill. You're going to want to get ahead of that." Great, if Chloe was onboard with her paranoia, she needed to start planning. Wonderful.

"If he does, I'll have Alfred make sure there are holes. The roof for sure." Cass was studying the building with a trained eye.

"You're sure that will work?" Bruce didn't seem the type to allow holes, especially if he wasn't the one using them.

"I'm sure." Cass gave her hand a squeeze and Marinette relaxed slightly. Given Hawkmoth's tendency to attack during school hours, they needed safe ways to leave the building.

"Alright, let's get you familiar with the layout. While I have no intention of being separated while we're here, I'd rather you be comfortable navigating the building on your own." Cass gave her hand another squeeze in response. Marinette wasn't certain why she was so reluctant to have Cass here, but she knew it would only get worse when it was full of people.

Marinette felt even more on edge as they entered the courtyard. The only thing that kept her from noping straight out of there was knowing that Luka, Kagami, and Chloe were watching their backs. The five of them should be able to handle any threat. It didn't stop her from jumping when a voice sounded from above them.

"I can't believe you asked me to meet you in a school." Jason sounded disgusted, and when she looked up, she was met with another surprise. Damian was next to him, scowling down at her. Well, there went her hopes that Bruce wouldn't get involved. As they walked down to meet them, Marinette tried to come up with a Plan B.

"I also asked you to meet me in an hour, so we would be on our way out." She did not want the boys to come along on the tour, given she'd planned on giving Cass a rundown on the best places to disappear and show her the massive gaps in the limited security. "Why don't you two stay here and eat with Luka, Kagami, and Chloe? I'll give Cass a quick tour and we'll be back in fifteen minutes."

"Why did you invite us here if you didn't want to spend time with us?" She wasn't certain what to do with Damian's tone, but his tense stance screamed hurt. She really didn't know what to do with that.

"I do want to spend time with you, which is why I told Jason to be here later so I wouldn't have other things to do."

"And yet you only invited him." There it was. She debated how much she should say.

"I did. He's the only one who seems completely supportive of my boundaries with Mr. Wayne, and he's also the only one who's given me their phone number. I was hoping to get advice from him and Cass about how to approach everyone. I have a feeling that I'm going to have a tense relationship with Mr. Wayne for the foreseeable future, but I would still like to have a chance to get to know the rest of you."

Damian was scowling, but he seemed to be looking through her. Marinette glanced at Cass and her twin offered a comforting smile. Jason, however, seemed to be holding his breath. Eventually, Damian pulled out his phone and handed it to her with a new contact open. She put in her number but left the name blank so he could put in what he wanted. That got a raised eyebrow.

"I do not understand why you're so insistent on shutting Father out. He has a lot of experience that could be valuable to you. You should listen to him." Well, she didn't think they'd get here this quickly.

"Two reasons. First, he's not offering advice. He's trying to control how I live because he thinks he knows better than me. Second, have you ever heard the phrase, take advice from someone who has the life you want?" Damian shook his head. "Well, I don't want M. Wayne's life. Given his romantic history, he's the last person I would want advice from. Yes, he seems to have settled at the moment, but his current relationship with Selina in newer than mine with Luka and Kagami. Given what happened at my parents' house this morning, I certainly don't want his advice on how to have a relationship with the rest of you. My business is exactly where I want it to be, and I can scale it up whenever I'm ready, so I don't need his input on that either. While I wouldn't mind talking to him about it, he seems the type to simply try and take over."

Jason was nodding along to everything she said, but Damian was still scowling at the floor. Cass started signing at him, and his expression turned more neutral.

"Why are you so certain he's wrong?" He at least sounded interested in her answer.

"About my significant others, or in general?"

"Both."

"Well, I know Luka and Kagami, and he doesn't. Not to mention he hasn't given a reason that he distrusts them, so I have no reason to trust his instincts over mine. As for everything else, I'm not certain he's wrong. But until he's willing to have a discussion with me instead of trying to tell me what to do, I'm not going to listen to his opinions on things. Especially things he knows nothing about."

"Good for you. He'll steamroll you if you give him an inch." Jason sounded... proud maybe? "Demon Spawn is still at the stage where he thinks B can do no wrong. He'll learn." Marinette winced.

"Please don't call him that around me. My Maman isn't the only one that doesn't like insulting nicknames. And at his age, his Papa should be infallible. Honestly, I should not have had that discussion in front of any of you, but especially not Damian. And I am sorry about that." Both boys were just staring at her like they couldn't comprehend her words. Given that Cass had laid into Bruce with everyone present, maybe they didn't. Finally, Jason cleared his throat.

"Trust me, you want witnesses. And you don't want other people's opinion of you to be based only on B's grumblings. While most of us know better than to trust outside opinions, you don't want anyone biased against you because he complained."

Marinette managed a distracted hum as she thought of the implications. Not only with Bruce's family. Batman was well respected and a leader of the Justice League. He could cause her an innumerable amount of headaches. She might have to introduce herself to them before he had a chance to claim she was inexperienced, or worse, inept. One more problem to worry about.

"I'm sure it will be fine. I've overcome people thinking badly of me based on other's words before. I can do it again." She could tell her tone was off by the way Jason studied her. It didn't help that Chloe was muttering curses in most modern languages. Cass leaned into her side.

"We should look around. You two stay here." Damian still looked like he wanted to argue with Cass, but Jason grabbed his shoulder and squeezed hard enough that the boy was glaring at him instead.

"You know I'm not going to turn down food. Come on Dem-uh, Damian. They be back before we're finished, and you can keep grilling them then." The Boy let out an annoyed noise, but didn't protest. Chloe herded them back outside, while Cass tugged Marinette further into the building.

"You don't like it here." Marinette could only offer her twin a strained smile.

"It was better when Chloe was still here, but it's my last year."

"We'll make it better." Marinette let out an amused laugh.

"I'm sure you're right. I hope the fact that Alya has figured out Lila's been lying all this time will help, too. Though it could complicate other things as well." Cass hummed in acknowledgement. Given she hadn't met any of the class yet, she had to take Mari's word for everything. "Come on. I need to show you the best places to be able to disappear."

While the school wasn't small, it still only took them ten minutes to do a walk-through. It was honestly a little depressing how little security she had to point out. Between that, roof access, the bathrooms, and that one classroom that for some reason was never in use, she covered all the easy, safe escape points. When they made it outside, Jason was joking around with the others. Damian was studying everyone, but he did look less hostile.

"How's the food?" Marinette could tell how Jason felt by the grin he turned on her.

"It's amazing!"

"It is adequate." Jason looked like he was about to argue with Damian, but Mari waved him off.

"Adequate because you've had better or simply because you don't like this type of food?" Damian blinked at her, and she had to wonder if people ever asked about his preferences. He hesitated before answering.

"The spices are not to my tastes." She started talking with him about foods he did and didn't like. Jason was looking at them like they'd each grown two heads. She had to wonder why a civil conversation caused such a reaction, but that was a later problem. Right now, she just wanted to keep Damian talking to her without hurling threats.

Talking about food led to him being a vegetarian, which led to his pets. Soon she was cooing over pictures of them all while Damian detailed how Alfred the Cat tripped up just about everyone in the family. Pretty soon, they were talking about the logistics of having pets on a boat with Luka. She hadn't really considered it, but she had always wanted pets.

"Cats have a long history of being on board for vermin control. It would probably be good to get them as kittens, so it's easier for them to acclimate. I could be more help if I could see the vessel."

"Sure. I have plenty of pictures." Jason and Damian both frowned at her, but she couldn't completely read the expression.

"Why not just show us?" The way Cass was glaring at Jason, Mari knew she wasn't reading too much into his tone. Before either of them could react, Chloe let out a snort of laughter.

"Because no one wants to drive that far right now, given we have school tomorrow. Their 'not a yacht' is too big to get here from the ocean, so it stays on the coast." The fact that they almost always went there using Kaalki wasn't something she needed her brothers finding out just yet.

"Not to mention it's her choice to invite you to her home." The warning in Cass' tone seemed to surprise the boys. Mari was going to have to be careful coming and going for a while. The Bats were almost certain to break into it at some point in the near future. Probably more than once. It should take them a few days to find it, given it wasn't in any of their names. Of course, that would shoot up a whole different set of red flags. It also meant Bruce would almost certainly tell the rest of them she was Ladybug. She'd have to talk to Cass about outing the Bats to her team, so they were prepared. It wasn't the way she wanted it to happen, but there wasn't much choice. Chloe would probably put it together on her own once she caught up. It was widely known that Batman and Catwoman were an item.

"I'd love to have you guys over, but probably not this visit since you're planning on leaving before the weekend. That and I honestly don't have the energy for whatever lecture Bruce is going to come up with for why it's irresponsible to buy something that expensive so young, let alone with other people."

Damian looked thoughtful, but Jason had a guilty expression. Apparently, she couldn't trust him yet. She really didn't want to have to start lying to people again. Why couldn't anything just be simple?

Beginning   Previous

Tag List

@ladybug-182 @elmokingkong @smolplantmum @jessigurl-design @trippingovermyfeet @whydoexamsexist @scorchdragon88 @alenee13 @sturchling @random-fandoms7 @fandom-writer642 @chylou34 @thewitchwhowaited @laurcad123 @hakoirii @aestheticnpoetic @sassakitty @swiftie-miraculer13 @miraculous-simmer7 @peachedpocky @shamefullove @user00000003 @18-fandoms-unite-08 @galla02006 @thestressmademedoit @toodaloo-kangaroo @i-shizen @necromancerflight @astoriaandromeda @devils-wrath @adrestar @jayjayspixiepop @lilfuturescars @unoriginalmess @couffeeine @toxicaurayt1  @krispydefendorpolice @itriedwritingandhereiam @angie500

[rabbits-sin-den]

Gojo x Reader

Summary: Gojo disappears after you say I love you. So you punish him.

Minors: DNI

"Today's the day." I said to myself in the mirror.

It was our two-year anniversary. I'd been anticipating this one because today was going to be the day I said I love you. Neither of us have said it before which meant I would be the one diving into uncharted waters first. I was nervous on principal but based on the fact he's said everything but (mentioned a future together, asked about rings, got terminally jealous anytime someone else looked at me) I felt pretty confident he felt the same way.

I went to dinner and everything went swimmingly. We reminisced. We joked, laughed, and paid for our dinner. When he tried to invite himself into my apartment. I stopped him.

"I have work tomorrow and you don't know the meaning of moderation."

"Just quit already.” he whined.

"It's one more week. I might as well finish it out."

He whined some more and I teased him a bit before I finally took the plunge.

"I love you." I said. "I um....I wanted to make sure I said that."

Silence.

The longer it went on, the more nervous I felt. When I looked up, Satoru was looking away. When I was about to ask what was wrong he took a step back and disappeared. I blinked, dumbfounded. My heart pounded in my chest. As the shock wore off it seeped into anger and sadness. I went inside my house and closed the door, sinking to the ground.

He doesn't love me back.

The next few days were a blur. I was heartbroken. I even looked up new apartments to move into. I couldn't exactly keep him out of my house but I could move. Was it dramatic? Yes. Was I going to give myself the opportunity to just forget what happened and let myself be strung along? No. For the past two days the endless cuddles, kisses and passionate nights plagued me. I was almost happy I could work this week. At the end of Wednesday, my boss walked up to me with an oddly apprehensive expression on his face.

"You don't have to finish out the week." He said.

"Huh?"

"You don't have to finish out the week. Letting you off the hook early since you have two days of PTO accrued."

"Did I...mess up?"

"No. But you look like you need a break." He said.

I mean I guess the "eyes swollen from crying every night" look wasn't awesome to look at every day but he also didn’t care about things like that. So what’s happening?

He cleared his throat, looked meaningfully at my desk before walking away. There wasn’t any arguing it. I didn't want to sit at home and think but I didn't have the energy to go out either. I packed up my stuff and took the train home. When I entered the apartment. There Satoru was, looking relieved to see me. I glared at him.

"Get out."

He blinked in surprise.

"What happened?" He asked.

What happened?? Fuck you dude.

"I'm not interested in this game you're playing." I said while putting down my bag and taking off my jacket.

"What game?"

"The game where you pretend you didn't brush me off when I said I loved you." I seethed. "The game where I pretend that you didn't fucking hurt me."

My voice cracked at the end and I could feel the tears coming.

"I love you too." He said.

Bullshit.

"Too late."

"I...."

I peeked at him and he looked sheepish which wasn't like him. Guess he knew how badly he fucked up.

"I left like that because if I didn't I wasn't going to be able to let you go to work." He said.

I ignored him and looked into the fridge for some leftover comfort food.

"You got off work early for the week right?"

I paused.

"How did you know that?"

"I threatened and bribed your boss."

"...What."

Satoru walked over toward me.

"When you said I love you I...." He walked toward me and trapped me against the counter. "Even now, just thinking about it, I want to..." He got closer and I felt something hard pressing against me. "I want to ruin you for anyone else."

I finally braved a look at his eyes and even though I was pissed there was no mistaking that look. His eyes were dark with hunger and barely restrained possessiveness. There were a couple of nights when I got to see a glimpse of this look. Usually, after someone was a little too flirty with me or a random day where he snapped after not getting enough affection.

"You really hurt me." I said.

"I'm sorry." He said, leaning down and kissing me.

I could tell where this was going so I broke it off.

"How sorry are you?"

"Incredibly."

"Then make it up to me.” I said. “And I decide how you’ll do it.”

If I leave it up to him I’ll wake up with a brand new car and an apartment full of flowers. 

I sent him away while thinking of what could possibly make me forgive him for the past few days of hell he put me through. At first, nothing came to mind because nothing was enough. He seriously broke my heart. But it was also his first serious offense besides the cat thing. The apartment was filled with memories and evidence of his affection. The custom couch for he exclusively bought to cuddle more comfortably. The stolen kisses in the kitchen. The random gifts he’s given over the years.

But I don’t want to get played.

After a lot of deliberation I decided I can forgive this. Not before a little revenge though. I wanted him to suffer but not in a way that hurt him. An idea popped in my head and I smiled and pulled up the computer.

Friday morning when I was in the bath, he knocked on the door. When gave him permission he opened it. Satoru stood there in a maid outfit awaiting my orders. He looked confused but didn't dare complain. I stared at him for a bit before smiling at him. I sat up and turned my back to him.

"Wash my back and massage my shoulders while you're at it."

He walked forward and I held a hand up.

"What do servants say to their masters after an order."

"...Yes Ma'am."

"Good."

He came over and did as he was ordered. He was surprisingly good at what he does. I let myself make satisfied noises, enjoying the way he tensed up after each one.

"Thank you. That's enough. Start cleaning the kitchen and living room."

"Yes, Ma'am."

He left the bathroom and I contemplated what outfit would make this hardest on him. Probably me standing out there naked but I didn't have the guts for that. Plus it would be cold. I got out of the bath, draining it. After several minutes of deliberation, I decided staying in a towel might be best. He glanced at me, stiffened then resumed cleaning while avoiding me. I sat on the living room couch and turned on the TV.

"When you're done, come over here and kneel on the floor."

I didn't leave much for him to clean so within the hour he was in front of me kneeling. I got up and inspected the kitchen. He even got inside the fridge. Honestly, I wasn't entirely sure Satoru knew how to clean given his upbringing. I returned to the couch, sat down, and examined him. His skirt was slightly lifted from his half-hard erection.

"You did a good job in the kitchen. So you do have a little common sense."

I pressed my foot onto his cock and he jolted. His body trembled as I slowly put pressure up and down his shaft.

"So what were you thinking on our anniversary?"

"I wasn't." He replied.

"Exactly. You were thinking with this..." I pressed harder and he grunted. "Instead of thinking how that would affect who you're with."

"I'm sorry." He said breathlessly.

His hips started moving and I removed my foot.

"You're not off the hook yet." I said then I held out a vibrator that can be strapped to his dick. "Put this on."

I handed it to him and he glanced at me. He lifted the skirt up, putting it in his mouth, and revealed his unfairly pretty cock. I kept my face impassive as he slid the little ring over his shaft. He looked at me and I clicked the remote. His eyes widened and in his shock, he dropped the skirt, his body tensing up.

"You're going to do my laundry," I said. " And that's staying on till you finish. If you cum that's it." I said.

He nodded and got up. I clicked my teeth and he looked at me, eyes swimming with desire.

"What do you say?"

I could see a wild look building in his eyes.

"Yes master."

I waved him off ignoring how the change in title made me feel. I supervised him while he washed the clothes. It was the most out of control I'd ever seen him. In the middle of movements, I'd increase the intensity, causing his body to jerk. I'd lower it to the lowest volume then rapidly increase it while he was watching the washer. His breathing got heavier as time went on and while the thick tented fabric covered it, I knew he was slick with precum. His hands gripped onto whatever it could like a lifeline. After two hours he was done.

He looked at me, eyes silently begging me for some kind of release.

I picked up one of my underwear from the clean pile and walked over to him. I lifted up his skirt and sure enough, his heavy cock dripped with need. I used the underwear the clean up the mess and then threw it in the washer.

"You've got one more load to do." I said before sitting back where I was.

When the machine got going he walked over to me. I glanced up at him and he bowed his head. I flinched when he dropped to his knees and held my hand.

"I'm sorry for hurting you..." He said softly. "And I want to make it up to you."

He spread my legs slightly.

"May I?"

I was at my limit anyway.

"Sure. At my pace."

I laid down and the second his tongue pressed to my center I gasped. He immediately got to work, running his tongue over my clit and working his fingers in and out. Loud moans rained out of my mouth and I couldn't catch my breath from the onslaught. When I caught a glimpse of his face, the calculated sharpness in his eyes, I realized...I got played.

He got up, towering over me while shoving the vibrating ring further down his cock. He pressed the vibrating piece against my clit causing both of us to curse. His breath was shaky as he rubbed his dick up and down my slit.

"I wanna serve my master." He said with a shaky voice. "Please let me serve you."

You just wanna get off you bastard.

But fuck I wanted to get off too.

I nodded and he immediately inserted himself inside in one swoop. I turned my head to the side as I tried to adjust to the sudden fullness. He moved and I cried out as his cock brushed a spot that made my head spin. He increased the pace, wanton moans filling the air as he got some relief. Every thrust was a shot of pleasure. Loud slaps mixed with our moans as the pleasure started to build. Satoru leaned in, hitting a deeper angle. My back arched as I whined, clenching around him. His tip slammed into that wonderful spot over and over and over.

"Ah-!" I gasped as he slammed down a little harder.

I closed my eyes for a bit and Satoru picked up my hips making me match his pace. My whole body tingled. I was over the moon. I glanced between us and all I could see was a filthy mess. I was in love.

"No one else..." He said with a shaky breath. "I'll make sure of it..."

"Sa-..I-I'm-!"

"Come on my cock, master." He commanded in a guttural tone.

The tension snapped and I threw my head back as I came. My body twitched as he kept fucking me through my orgasm. He never let up, not for a second. His hips stuttered as he came inside me, thrusting deep inside with a victorious look. When he calmed down, he poorly feigned innocence.

"Oh no. I came without your permission." He said, using my finger to press down on the remote.

He was still inside me so both of us jumped from the vibrations. His body shivered as a blissed out look went over his face. He looked down, a sinister smile was on full display as he slowly started thrusting again.

"Looks like you'll have to punish me."

I shuddered and twitched every time the vibrator at the end of his cock brushed my clit. Even though it was too much, I couldn’t bring myself to push him off. Through the intense sensitivity the pleasure started to build again.

“You should’ve been turned into a snake.” I stuttered out.

He caressed my cheek.

“I love you too. I meant that.” He said softly.

”I’m not saying it back until I forgive you.” I pouted.

”I’m willing to put in the work.” He smiled.

The laundry machine beeped, making both of us jump. “Start by hanging up the underwear.” I said finally.

He kissed me on the cheek, looking at me fondly before getting up.

“Yes ma’am.”