#I’ve either tricked my brain into thinking I’ve made another friend

[bunnyyamor]

[ OCTOBER 4TH ] TEMPERATURE PLAY - SHOTO TODOROKI x fem! reader (wizard x student! witch au)

synopsis; shoto is the best wizard in the school. he can make his hands form powers of heat and cool. you are new to the school and have always been a fan of wizard shoto. now’s your chance to learn from him. wk; 4k

warnings; mdni, smut 18+, heavy smut, everyone is aged up, temperature play, student x teacher (college), fingering, wand fucking, nicknames (professor, student), dirty talk, brat taming, spanking, ass play, ice, candle wax, nipple play, thigh riding, clit play, scissoring, beta read!

note; again w another! i love the vibe of this one, i don't think it's my fav but pls lmk what u think. also if uu have a problem w this type of trope and what not then don't read idgaf, like block me idc. remember to like, reblog and comment.

-nav : kinktober m.list : kinktober taglist

“did ya hear?” your roommate bumped into your shoulder, playfully. 

you were in the middle of making your nutritious breakfast that consisted of oats and fruits. you read it helped with the brain and in the school of magic, you definitely needed that. 

when you had finished high school you knew you wanted to explore your witchcraft ways and become a witch. the best witch in the land. so now you were in the school of magic and acing every subject. you were at the top of your class. some might even suggest you were the goody two shoes, the know it all, but you didn’t mind. they would scoff and roll their eyes every time you answered in class but all that mattered to you was being the best out of the best. 

“what’s up?” you took a big bite of breakfast, sitting at the table. 

“have you been living under a rock? we’re getting a new professor this semester. i am so fucking excited!” your friend jumped up and down, dancing.

you tilted your head, “you mean, you don’t like professor williams telling us we suck ass on the daily and we’re never gonna follow our dreams? he’s such a sweetheart, why would you want another teacher?” your words dripped with sarcasm. 

your roommate rolled her eyes with a chuckle, “ha ha. but seriously, y/n, the professor i’ve heard is hot.” she wiggled her eyebrows. 

“like dilf hot or-”

“like he is only a few years older than us!”

“what?” you choked on your oats. “how in the hell-”

“best in his class. actually he’s one of the best period. i’ve heard that he made up a new magic trick. something to do with ice and flames, at the same time.”

“wait, are you talking about shoto todoroki, the shoto todoroki.”

“yeah, i think that’s the guy.”

you almost screamed, “no way! shoto is like my idol. he has proven that magic airway can travel within itself with different opposite techniques. he’s insanely good and one of the best wizards!”

“so you’re a fan?”

you twirled around in your kitchen, “can you just imagine? we are going to be taught by one of the greatest! we’re gonna get the best education and learn so much! that’s actually why i came to this school. i read about him and he inspired me to be a witch.”

your friend faked a yawn, “well damn don’t get all happy school girl with me. he’s probably like the rest of them.” she shrugged, “either way, we have his class first so you can go and fangirl over him all you want.”

your eyes bugged out, “for real?”

“why?” your friend smirked, “are you excited to see this sexy professor?”

you shook your head, “he probably has a girlfriend or a wife. let’s be respectful and good students.” you collected your spell books, retrieved your witch hat and wrapped your neck with your comfy, soft, orange knitted scarf. 

your friend grumbled, “i don’t want to be a goody-goody like you. some don’t really care.”

“we’re gonna be late,c’mon!” you hopped onto your broomstick. putting your earbuds in to listen to “all too well” by taylor swift. your broomstick slowly came out of your apartment to your campus.

 it was the start of the day and everyone was bustling to and fro, having places to be, classes to attend. 

you read your papers that were sent to you by crow and could make out that professor shoto todoroki’s classroom was in the main building of the classes. it was usually the nicer rooms with more decoration. his class was potions and elements of magic. your wand was tightly placed in your bookbag, safe and secured. 

you smiled wide, cheeks getting nipped by the cool autumn air. the smell of pumpkin spice and cinnamon dancing in your nose from the many students getting coffee. and the smell of many apple orchards that littered around the campus made you so happy with your choice in school. you vowed to yourself to be the best witch ever. 

but as your broom swayed closer to his classroom your heart pounded as well. every minute the tapping against your rib cage would make you sweat and gulp loudly. what if he hated you? what if he was the worst teacher ever? what if you were to get an f? how were you then to be the greatest?

you sat your broom outside the classroom, leaning it against the wall. 

every new semester day made you anxious. it was bound to happen. but why were you also intrigued?

you fixed your mini black skirt with your fishnet stockings on, sticking your head inside the classroom. it was already filled with many students and that was when you saw him!

the greatest wizard to ever live, shoto todoroki. his hair was half white half red. the side with the red hair had a blue eye and the side with white hair had a brown eye. he also had a burn mark on his blue eye. he looked incredible and so handsome. 

“told you,” your friend whispered in your ear and slapped your ass playfully.

fuck, she was right. you almost moaned the first time you saw him. you never really looked at him that way when you saw photos of him but now seeing him in real life for the first time, something set off inside of you, making you cross your legs. he had an all black outfit. his coat was black and his suit was black. it fit him nice and tight but made him look like a true wizard. he carried with him a scepter with a crystal ball on the end of it. you already knew by that he was high in rank. 

he licked his fingers, turning something in a spell book and looked up. he was about to look back down but you caught his guard. 

again, you gulped loudly, biting your lip. 

his eyes bore into yours, almost studying you. 

“can i help you?” he asked, hands leaning against his belt. his hands looked rough from maybe the constant training and learning. magic was no easy thing. 

“oh no. i go to this class.” you lifted up your paper. 

“please,” he gave a small smile, disappearing the moment it showed up. you could tell he was more reserved and quiet. “have a seat here.” he pointed to the seat right in front of the class. nobody took it because they were afraid but you always took that seat. you wanted to show teachers you meant business. 

as you made your way other students booed and rolled their eyes. “we have her again?”

“she always tries too hard.”

“that’s why she has no friends.”

you looked down, embarrassed. you took out your books and notebooks as well as your wand. just staring at it so you would try not to cry.

then you heard a snapping noise. 

“there is no bullying in my class. if you have a problem with this student then leave because she certainly isn’t leaving. or maybe i should give you all an f? hmm?” professor todoroki snapped, leaning against his desk, eyebrows furrowed. 

your heart thumped even harder now. why did he stand up for you? surely it was just because he was a nice teacher and nothing more, right?

“what is your name?”

“y/n l/n. thank you professor-”

he put his hand out, “no need. just do your best.” he said, emotionless but then he winked at you. 

you couldn't harp on those feelings longer because after that he announced the start of your class. you were bashful and grinning like an idiot. maybe this semester wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

the classroom was medium sized. dark and a bit cold. it had big windows that showcased the whole campus. behind the students were gigantic light wooden shelves, with books stacked inside them. it looked glorious with emerald green and navy blue inside. candles were lit everywhere and inside smelled of autumn leaves. the perfect setting to learn. 

“so today i will introduce myself and get you to know a little bit about me,” shoto announced as he crossed between the students desks. “i am shoto todoroki and i am known as the best wizard. the reason is-”

“it’s because you can create flames of heat and ice at the tip of your fingertips. nobody else in the magic world can! that’s actually impossible.”

shoto tsked as he looked back at you. now he kind of understood the kids, you were a know it all. 

you smirked. for sure this would make you the class pet. 

“thank you y/n but i can speak for myself. anyways yes, but in this class i will teach you my tricks. this is my first ever class and i expect dedication, hard work, and respect. respect for magic,” shoto turned around and stared directly at you with dark eyes, “and especially respect for me.”

you played with your fingers as you tried to look anywhere else but him. 

“i will as well teach you some potions and spells to help with certain magic, alright?”

everyone was writing down their notes. it was almost done with the class.

“everyone i want you to write this important term down. mesthuleniza, it is a spell to stun your opponent. now repeat after me-”

you raised your hand.

shoto sighed, massaged his temple and bit his lip, “yes y/n.”

“it is said mes-thoo-le-ny-za not mes-thoo-le-ni-za. most students are saying it wrong. i just wanted to clarify.” you put your hand back down and grinned big. your legs were swinging back and forth all innocent.

students groaned in annoyance and shoto put his hand on his mouth to try to calm himself down. “yes y/n, again, thank you. now the history of the spell is-”

“soldiers would use it on their enemies to stun them for goods. it was used all the way back in ancient egypt times. some theorize it was made by the gods but all we know is it has worked for many decades for special purposes.”

just then the bell rang. 

“alright class dismissed! i want the papers on my desk by lunchtime tomorrow. and practice on animals with your spell. have a good day, students.” 

you felt good. you made the best impression you felt. as you were packing up all your items you noticed you were the last student, the only student left behind. 

“y/n?”

you turned around to see shoto writing on some papers at his desk. 

“yes, professor?”

“you are going to stay here for lunch.”

“but sir! they are putting pizza tonight! i love pizza,” you pouted. 

he looked up, unimpressed by your childish act. he crossed his leg as he sat back, hands behind his head. “i don’t care what you want y/n. what did i say to do in my class?”

you kicked around sheepishly, “to respect you.”

“exactly! did you do that? did you do that for your fellow classmates?”

you shook your head, “no. but sir-”

“no buts. for the way you behaved, i should have you punished.” his voice dropped low and his mouth twisted into a scowl. “so you’re staying here and helping me clean.”

you stomped your foot like a brat, “this isn’t fair! i’m the best student in this whole damn school. i am supposed to-”

shoto stormed up and with a finger in your face he growled, “watch it.”

you gulped and went silent. 

“now, you are going to do as i say and wipe the board and put the books away. understand?”

you exhaled, rolling your eyes, “whatever.”

professor shoto sat back down and read over some paperwork. 

you grumbled the whole time as you picked up the eraser and got to work, swishing your arm back and forth to clean the school work residue. you didn’t want to admit but he taught a well class. he was very informative and explained things clearly. you loved every second of it. 

“i enjoyed your class, professor,” you said quietly, almost under your breath. you heard shoto turn around in his chair and utter a mellow, “thank you.” but you didn’t hear him turn back. you felt his gaze on you. 

you looked up to see high above the chalkboard was more wording that needed to be erased. professor todoroki was taller than you so you stood on your tiptoes to reach the leftovers. 

if you knew you were going to clean the board today you would have worn a longer skirt but as you stood on your toes your tight black skirt rose, showing the underside of your ass. you were wearing a black thong with a spider bedazzled on the front of it, and over the thong was your fishnet stockings. you could feel the cool air go under and tickle your ass and pussy. with each swipe on the board it made your ass jiggle, almost making it clap. 

you still felt his gaze on you and could see him in your peripheral vision. 

was he?

your eyes went quick to him and you noticed him staring at your ass. he looked thirsty. as if you were the key to unquench his thirst. he looked at you as if you were the last sip of water on this earth. his eyes were wide but his gaze was dark as if malicious or lustful. he kept his hand on his mouth as if to stop him from having a taste, his adam's apple moving up and down slowly. shoto moved his head closer and lower, tilted at an angle to get a better view of your full ass. 

you looked down on him and noticed his full on boner. 

you were shocked? not your professor?

you weren’t an idiot. your professor was hot and honestly you felt something burst within you with him looking at you that way. you felt hot, and bad. you wanted him to punish you. you felt cherished in a way. something changed within you. 

but what would people say? what would happen, the chemistry from here on out if you acted upon it? would people notice and then they would really think that you are the class pet?

all of it was too much. 

you got back on the soles of your feet and planted them on the ground. you fixed your skirt and looked directly at shoto with a smile. “i’m done here, need any more help.”

shoto looked away, embarrassed with a cough, “yes, um, i have some books that you can put away in the bookshelf. right over there.”

you nodded and picked the books up to put them away.

as you put the books away you noticed a book written by him. it was about his technique of fire and ice. you were astounded by his words. he was incredible. 

“and without a wand,” you uttered to yourself. 

you sat the book against the shelf and took your wand out. the end of the wand was thick and had ridges on it. it was unique and decorated by you. you studied the passage of the book and tried to do the spell. you tried to get fire to come out but it was no use, it didn’t work.

“that’s not gonna work,” todoroki walked in on you. hands in his pockets as he gave a small grin seeing you try. 

“yeah, sorry, i’m not that good,” you chuckled sheepishly. 

“you know you don’t believe that,” shoto picked up the book to inspect it. “you just told me, you think you’re the best.”

“i just, i wish i was as good as you.”

shoto thought about that moment and walked back. he peered around the room then lifted his sleeves up. “here let me help you. i can teach you.” as he lifted both hands to you, you saw the veins on them. they were the most attractive hands ever. “now this is kinda dangerous so please be careful.” in that moment he produced ice on his right side and flames on his left.

“woah,” you looked with eyes big of wonder. “this is amazing!” your hands went over the ice and it felt so cool and over the fire. “ouch.” you flicked your finger back, sucking the burn. 

“allow me,” todoroki picked up your finger and kissed it. then he poked his tongue out a bit and licked the tip of it. it was warm at first then cool his saliva. all the while his eyes never left yours. 

“better?”

“b-better,” you nodded, bashful. your head was spinning. you felt you were in another world.

“look, stand like this.” shoto went behind you, spread your legs apart and placed both his hands on yours. “don’t think about anything else. forget what other professors have told you. feel the cool and the heat. think about them being friends, lovers rather than enemies.”

you closed your eyes to concentrate and that's when you felt warmth and cool on your hips then your arms. it shot a spark up your spine.

 “try it y/n, i know you can do it.” shoto whispered in your ear. 

feeling inspired a little flame and ice shard were produced in your hand. “oh my god!” you jumped up and down. it was gone the minute it showed up but it meant everything to you. “i did it! oh my god!”

shoto crossed his arms with a love grin on his face, “i’m proud of you, student. good job.” 

you couldn’t take the tension anymore and backed shoto against the bookshelf, planting your lips on his. 

at first it was hot and warm, you ran your fingers through his hair messily. he had his hands squished against your face. mouth fighting for dominance. 

he parted with heaving breaths, “no y/n, no, we shouldn’t do this. i’m your teacher. we could get in trouble. i shouldn’t be having this with my student.”

“please, professor,” you pouted. you brought his hand to your vagina. wanting him to feel you. “you see how wet you already made me.” you grinding on his hand, and went to his ear, moaning, “and i saw the way you stared at my ass. like you wanted to eat it, professor.”

todoroki scowled. his eyes turned dark and his mouth twisted into a frown. “there you go again. acting like a little brat. i knew you were trouble when i first saw you. acting like a good girl when you know you are the baddest one here. look at you, begging me to fuck you, wanting me to touch your wet pussy.” shoto pushed you against the bookshelf. lifting your mini skirt up high so it rested on your stomach. you showed him your bare ass, with your cute thong nestled in the middle of it. 

“oh professor!” you cried as he turned you around, inspecting your clothed pussy. 

“i love these,” he chuckled, delicately touching your fishnets. he then ripped them along with your panties. 

“professor i loved those,” you pounted again. 

“look at you, always pouting like a spoiled brat.” shoto’s hand became red with flame power and that's when he smacked your ass. you jumped up and moaned, shaking it for him. god he turned you on so much. again he smacked, harder this time. you whined, “i’m sorry professor shoto, i’ve been a bad girl.”

“yes you have been, you've been a bad witch. witches are supposed to help people but all you wanna do is fuck them.” todoroki put your wand in your mouth to stifle your moans and cries from his slaps. “you like that, my bad student?”

you nodded, grinding your bare ass on his clothed dick. he earlier ripped your pussy and ass area of your stockings. so he turned his hand ice cold and wiped his hands from your cunt to your ass hole, smearing your juiced back and forth. “i can smell you from here, you dirty girl. all wet from your professor.”

“mmmm, yes! that’s feels so good.”

“let me ask you,” shoto massaged in circles your tight asshole, “have you ever been fucked by a wizard?”

before you could answer, shoto gently laid you down on the floor and ripped your shirt, spilling your boobs out. 

you grunted loudly, still having your wand in your mouth. 

“fuck,” he whispered, fingers turning red for heat and circling your bud. it felt soothing, a warm feeling. then his hands turned ice cold in a split second. 

that’s what got you super wet. you were humping his leg that was placed in the middle of you. moving back and forth as his coat that covered his leg was now being covered by your cream. the friction of your pussy folds coating each button and fabric made you see stars. 

todoroki’s intense eyes looked into yours and his brows knitted together, “aww look at my little brat. is she now being a good girl?”

his fingers delicately came down your collar bone to your nipples, gently tickling them with his nails. his hands were cold as ice. he rolled the bud back and forth in between his fingers. then, as if they weren’t sensitive enough, he produced from his magic a piece of ice. he hovered it over your mouth and it dripped down your neck to your nipples. making them poke out even more and become swollen. it made you more wet and almost find that special feeling. 

“oh my god,” you moaned. 

“wow, look how sensitive. they respond so well to my magic.” he smirked, rubbing the piece of ice all over your tits. 

you started grinding faster as then finally todoroki put the ice cube in his mouth and dipped his head to take a nipple in. he twirled the nipple with his tongue while the ice tapped on it as well. 

the feeling was like something you have never experienced before. it was incredible. 

“oh professor!” you cried, your stain on his legs and coat were becoming bigger and wetter. 

todorki hummed as he feasted on your nipples. the feeling of ice cold making your pussy pulse. 

shoto retrieved a candle from the side of the book shelf and heated the tip of the candle with his powers. the hot wax dripped down your belly almost making its way to your cunt but dried up before it could reach it. 

you hollered in excitment and sexual tension you almost orgasmed right there. 

“i don’t know how much more i can do this, professor.” you were humping his leg now like a dog in heat. 

“listen to me brat. i said you respect me in my classroom. don’t make me have to punish you again, you bad girl.” 

shoto went lower and opened your legs, with his face near your soaking wet cunt. 

“wow, look how wet you are. you are so dirty.” he was only inches from it.

you wiggled your hips, “please, help me,” you cried. 

shoto kissed the inside of your thighs. “my little witch, such a spoiled girl.” he produced another piece of ice and it dripped over your sensitive clit. you couldn’t help but almost orgasm there, the feeling was incredible. the ice droplets dripped on your swollen clit and down your hole, mixing with your cream. 

“all wet for me,” he whispered as he put two fingers to dive in your soaked pussy. you gladly sucked his fingers inside, eyes crossed with how good you felt. 

“ohhhh, right there, right there.” you started moving on his fingers. 

shoto licked his lips as his fingers turned really warm. he started moving his fingers in and out, then scissoring inside you. the squelching and wetness of it was all that was heard. 

“fuck i’m gonna cum, professor.”

“no listen brat, i say when you cum.” he put his hand on your lower belly. he looked directly into your eyes. “try to keep your eyes open. i want to see my student’s eyes when she cums.”

you tried to listen. your body moving up and down with how shoto escalated his fingering. he went faster and faster. your pussy gushing with moisture. 

“look at how filthy you are. you are a naughty girl.” his temperature then changed to ice cold. his fingers were like ice as he fingered faster. he started curling his fingers inside you, hitting the g-spot perfectly. his arm was pistoning in and out of you. 

you were finally screaming with pure ecstasy. this was the best feeling you ever felt. 

“i’m almost there-”

“not quite yet,” shoto chuckled. he grabbed the wand from your mouth. it was dripping with your spit. “open wider for me.”

you did as you were told.

“good girl,” he winked as he turned the wand over and entered the thick side first, inside your already sensitive cunt. your pussy took it in and your cream leaked down to the tip of it. 

“fuck! oh shit, fuck!” you were crying. it felt so good. “yes, right there. fuck yes. fuck me with my wand!”

shoto got his right hand cold and played with your nipples while the other hand moved the wand in and out like a sex toy. entering inside of you then out. 

“you are taking this so well. i am going to have to put my wand inside you.”

“professor! i can’t! i’m gonna cum!” you screamed, not caring if other students heard you. you opened your legs wider by spreading them with your hands. you looked down to see how fast and slick you took the wand. 

“that’s it, witch! cum for me!” he announced as if he put a spell on you.

your legs were shaking and he kept repeatedly hitting your g-spot with the wand. “fuckkkkkk!” you croaked. your strength and energy gone with how deep the wand kept going. 

you lifted your legs high in the air and stood there for a minute while he orgasmed. shoto slowly dipped the wand in and out, loving the way your fold suction aed around each groove. 

your juices dripped onto the carpet and all over shoto’s hands. 

you looked down to see shoto’s trousers having a wet stain from his precum. you felt kinda bad not giving him the same attention. 

“professor i-”

he pulled the wand away and wrapped his lips around it, tasting each part of you and licking every last drop. “i expect you at my class everyday. i expect great grades from the greatest witch ever.” he stood up, wiped his hands on his soaked trousers. he took his coat off and wrapped it around you. “you can give this to me tomorrow.”

“professor, when-are we ever gonna do this again?” you bit your lip.

shoto gave a cute smile, “as my best student that gets perks, you will stay after class to help me. better get that delicious pussy ready tomorrow and meet me back here again, like a good girl, right?”

it was crazy but you got wet all over again. “yes, professor.”

taglist: @sailewhoremoon, @tonaken, @shoutocakie, @xinii, @neonlavander, @moonbabysstuff, @smellsliketequila, @auds-dal19, @khione-silver

[anti-katsuki-lounge]

I was wondering your thoughts on Yui Kodai and what would you have done differently with her character?

Alright, buckle up, cause this is going to be a trip down head-canon city 😂. Feel free to let me know what you think about my head-canons.

So Yui’s seen as a blank slate character. In the manga/anime, she has little to no personality and really only exists to enlarge objects for other characters to use. However, even from such a small template, there’s quite a lot you can do with her.

Before we start, I wanna say that Yui’s got one of my favorite designs in all of fiction. I don’t know why I like it so much, but I think it’s cause it’s the perfect blend of cute and plain. I tend to like the simpler designs and she’s without a doubt got that all down.

Now for the head-canons:

- Yui’s a clear introvert. So much so that her idea of fun is hanging out in her room either alone or with one individual who’s on a similar wavelength to hers, hence why she’s usually seen around Reiko… whenever she’s out of her room. 1-B’s a bit too eccentric for her most of the time, but it’s not like she’s got any ill will towards them. She sees them as friendly people and doesn’t really resist being dragged around to their hangout sessions, but she’s not too involved with anything they do.

- Yui’s a cat person over a dog person. She really likes dogs, and animals in general, but cats have a personality similar to hers so she enjoys their company.

- She’s a huge Ultraman fan. So much so that if someone gives her the time, she can recount everything there needs to be known about the Ultraman series. She also likes other manga and anime, but Ultraman’s really where her passion lies. Why did I pick Ultraman of all things? It’s cause her costume and quirk are actually based on Ultraman.

- Yui’s stoic nature is due to the popular kuudere trope, but if we wanna add a realistic explanation for why she’s stoic, in one of my fics, I’ve made it so she has Schizoid personality disorder. For the most part, Yui feels like she’s more of an observer when it comes to her life. She struggles to make meaningful relationships in her life, struggles to find excitement, and a reason to exist. She’s not suicidal or anything, but it’s hard for her to get involved with the world. She’d rather be in her own world, which is quiet, cozy, and the one place she can find entertainment.

- Though mostly apathetic to the world around her, in her eyes, she knows there’s something “wrong” with her. It’s something that gnaws at her and is one of the rare topics that’ll cause her to get frustrated. When she gets like this, she shuts down as drifts off into space. This is one of those head-canons that is based around my own experiences with my mental health.

- When it comes to friends, Yui has given it little thought. She views 1-B as friendly people she interacts with, but isn’t sure she’d call them her friends due to her struggles of forming relationships. At best, she closest with Reiko, but it’s due to Reiko being a quiet individual herself and the fact their quirks synergize with one another’s.

- Yui’s got a 5/6 A+ ranking in skill. How does that translate into a fight? First off, she knows numerous martial arts, that much is a given. She took it to feel more alive and ended up being quite good at it. Her brain doesn’t really overthink things, so she never hesitates. That’s not to say that she isn’t a strategic fighter. One of Yui’s favorite tricks is tossing an item and enlarging it. Against those with destructive quirks like Katsuki, it forces them to either dodge or break the item, and when the enemy breaks it Yui capitalizes on the new weapons. In a fight, Yui’s quick and to the point. Her model of fighting is to finish things as quickly as possible, and she doesn’t think twice about playing dirty. Throat punches, striking pressure points, enlarging objects like rocks to bludgeon someone with them, she’ll go for it all. If she has to break someone’s leg to get an advantage, she’ll do so too. Her method of fighting’s something most people would see as brutal and somewhat morbid, but for Yui, it’s a means to an end, and due to her apathetic nature, she almost never hesitates to go for low blows if at a disadvantage. She does know self control though, but she doesn’t really care what others think about the way she fights.

- Her reason for being a hero is a mixture of her being inspired by the Ultraman comics and because people told her she’d make for a good hero due to her quirk and skills. Having no other prospects in life, she decided to give hero work a chance. Hero work’s one of the few things she’s somewhat passionate about and she hopes to learn a bit about herself along the way.

- According to Hori, Yui had a fanclub of guys who liked her in middle-school. Yui has no idea about their existence. For the most part, people see Yui as an enigma. No one knows what’s going on inside her head and that combined with her looks is why she’s popular with guys. She has no idea when guys are flirting with her and is always blunt with her answers. For the most part, she’s not interested in relationships, mainly because she lacks the ability to form such relationships, but if someone can knock down all her walls, she might be interested.

These are all my head-canons for Yui. I know it’s a lot for a character with very little screen time but let me know what you all think 😊

[starsscribble]

Stick Shift

Summary: Rick thinks he freeing Y/n. Y/n thinks she's the problem.

Tags: Angst, No comfort, Age Difference, Reader is 25 Rick is in in 40.

A/n: This was when I was on my Walking Dead kick. Finally got it edited.

But today I drove through the suburbs

Crying 'cause you weren't around

  You pulled into the post-apocalyptic suburbs; in a separate car than what Glenn and you left in. Your earlier pride of find and driving said care was gone. Now in it place was a numb type of sadness. It was stupid. You know that. Getting worked up over the fact you were driving a stick shift. All on your own. But Rick. Your boyfriend; ex-boyfriend now. He had been the one to teach you how to drive a stick shift. Before Virginia. When the group was still in the prison. When you were both still happy.

  “Come on,” his southern drawl was clear as day. You let out a puff of air. Head pushing against the headrest. “This was your idea. You gotta confess something.” You started to hate that you suggested this game, but the drive was so damn long. You didn’t have the radio to help distract you. No, it was just you, Rick, and a long stretch of Georgia backroad. The former sheriff’s right hand shifted off the steering wheel. Moving carefully as not to catch your attention. You were still racking your brain for a secret to tell. Then a yelp left your mouth. You jumped in your seat making the older man laugh. Hand retreated to the wheel.

“That’s what you get for taking so long pumpkin.” He grinned; eyes shifted from the road onto you. A hint of playfulness in those ocean blue eyes. 

“I was thinking of something!” You shot back making him chuckle before looking back to the road. 

“There’s gotta be something you have never told anyone.”

“Well,” you hummed. Readjusting in your seat. “I don’t know if this would count because I’ve never told this to anyone in the group.”

“I’ll count it.” He glances at you quickly, still smiling. Which makes you smile.

“Alright. I don’t know how to drive a stick shift.” You feel the jerk was the car spot. Rick looked at you as if you just told him the undead are all gone. Eye full of disbelief. 

“You’re joking.” He speaks after a beat and you shake your head. Nope, you couldn’t drive a stick to save your life. And with how the world was it just might. Rick took off his seatbelt as you questioned just what he was doing. ���I’m gonna teach you how to drive stick. You might need it.”

“We are on a run.”

“Yep and this is the perfect time. Now get into the driver’s seat.”

  Slowly you parked next to Glenn. Killing the engine you got out as Glenn moved over to your vehicle. He smiled at you. Today was a good day. Got more food, medicine, and another car. The possibilities for cars were endless. Used for parts. Set up at protection. Used as traps. Daryl Dixon the town resident mechanic would have a field day with this car.

“I’m gonna check in with Rick,” Glenn says. You see him playing with his wedding band. Maggie’s baby bump had started to show and Glenn didn’t like being away for too long. Patting his shoulder you speak.

“Go see Maggie and your baby.” You slammed the driver’s side door shut. The dark-haired man stares at you. Willing to argue with you on this.

“Really it’s-” You raised your hand stopping him.

“If you don’t go check up on Maggie. I will and I’ll tell her how you screamed like a girl.” His eyes widen at the threat. 

“I didn’t know a group of bats would be in there!” He defended himself only making you grin at him. You both head away from the parking area. Back towards the stretch of cookie-cutter homes. You nudge his shoulder with yours.

“First it’s a colony of bats. Second, not only was the scream funny, so was your face.” You teased him. Glenn shoved your shoulder playfully. Before mumbling that he was going to check in with his wife. Leaving you with the task of checking in with the community’s newly appointed leader Rick. 

  Jogging onto his porch you knocked on the door. Eyes looking everywhere but the door until it opened. Sadly it wasn’t the male you were looking for. Carl greeted you with a soft smile. The bandages that once covered his right eye socket had been replaced with a custom-made eyepatch.

“Ahoy captain.” You tease the teenager who rolled his remaining eye. “Your dad here? Just checking in since Glenn and I got back.”

“Nope. Haven’t seen him since this morning.” Carl tells you, making you nodded. “When I see him…” He trails off because he knows you will just hunt his dad down. “I don’t know where he is.” He's lying. You know it. He knows that you know. But you just nod and quickly thank him. Tell him to kiss his sister for you before turning off the porch.

  And you're probably with that blonde girl

Who always made me doubt

She's so much older than me

She's everything I'm insecure about

  You know where Rick Grimes is. Feet carrying you down the still blood-stained street. Streets that just weeks ago were covered with the undead. You wave kindly to the people passing by. It is a mix of your group, older residents, and new people. You still feel out of place. Maybe you always will. Maybe you won't. You wonder quietly to yourself. A nice distraction. Because if you thought about where you were going. Where you had to go. You might just break. So you let your mind wander. Let your feet carry you to the destination. Everything seemed to be on autopilot. Until your using the knocker of the baby blue house. Her house.

“We should end this,” Rick says matter-of-factly. You stopped brushing your hair to look at him. He’s not facing you. Back facing you as he pulled his jeans on. 

“What?” Maybe you misheard him. Maybe it was your ear playing a trick on you. Because Rick couldn’t be breaking up with you right now.

“We should break up.” He rephrases. The words take the air from your lungs. Your mouth opened to say words that your mind can’t even come up with. The silence in the room grew by the seconds. It finally became too much for the man as he turned to face you. Jeans zipped up but not buttoned. Belt lay next to his shirt on the bed but his eyes fell on you instead. 

“Say something.” He requested of you softly. That same soft voice that he used when he said he loved you. Tears that formed in your eyes finally fell as you blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. Before you looked him in the eyes.

“Is it me? Did I do something wrong?” Getting shot was nothing compared to your question to him. Because he knew you honestly thought you did something wrong. You always doubted yourself. But you were perfect. So goddamn perfect. And amazing. And young. 

“No sweetheart. It’s just…” He stops himself from going over to embrace you. Tell you to forget about it. Because this has to happen. You're 24. His 39. Even if the group. His and your family were ok with it. He heard the whispers around town. The other weren’t as supportive. 

“I think we should end this. We had an amazing run. And you're young. You’re gonna find someone else that will love you more than I ever could.” He breaks his own heart with his words. Because he doesn’t want you to find someone else. He wants to be with you until the end. When and where ever the end was. But you deserve better. You deserve someone around your age. Not an old man with two children like him. 

“I…” you stare at him. Cheeks strained with tears he caused. “I don’t want someone else.” You grab the comforter. It gets balled up as you tighten your grip on the fabric. Your mind running over everything you had done in the last weeks to get to the point. You had snapped at him a few days back because of Jessie Anderson. The blonde woman in her thirties that lived up the street. You didn’t hear what they were talking but her body language told you everything. She was flirting with Rick. And either he didn’t notice or didn’t care. Doubt played in your mind the whole day after seeing the interaction. Because Jessie was around Rick’s age. And you weren’t. You didn’t really have any life experience before the world ended. So it made sense if Rick preferred a woman his own age. As opposed to you, a 24-year-old kid in his eyes.

“I can get you a brownstone to stay in.” He said. Brushing off your comment. Which broke your heart even more.

  The door opened showing the blonde that lived there. A smile and questioning look on her face. 

“Is Rick here?” You asked, watching as she turned her head and yelling the man’s name into the home. He comes out from the kitchen; questioning who it was. The question dying in his throat when he saw it was you. Jessie excused herself leaving you and Rick alone. The former sheriff stepped onto the porch, closing the door behind him.

“Hey,” he gives you a tight-lipped smile. Which you return.

“Just came to tell you Glenn and I are back.”

“Right,” he nods. “You guys went on a run. Get anything good?” You nodded before listing off some of the supplies you got. Including the stick shift car. You heard him chuckle. Looking into his eyes you saw that same playfulness as the day he first forced you to drive a stick. 

“You didn’t flood the engine this time right?” He teased and you scoffed, punching him in the shoulder. 

“I was amazing.” You boasted. The older man stared at you and you swear you heard a quiet. ‘Ya, you are.’ 

“You don’t mind if I asked Glenn?” You roll your eyes but smile.

“Go ahead. He's gonna tell you the same thing.” He nodded. Hand going on his hips. You watch as he licks his lips. Your breath hitching as you feel your stomach twisting in knots. “I should go. Need a shower desperately.” You don’t wait for him to say goodbye or stop you. You're off the porch and down the road heading home in a few steps. 

  And all my friends are tired

Of hearing how much I miss you, but

I kinda feel sorry for them

'Cause they'll never know you the way that I do

  Maggie can’t drink. But that doesn’t mean you and Sasha can’t. Sasha, Abraham, and Rosita had come back later in the day from another run. They had been the unlucky ones not finding much of anything. But Sasha apparently found some top-tier booze in a rundown bar. The trio split it up between them. So here you were. Snacking on fresh strawberries drinking booze that would have been at least $100 for a bottle; straight out of the bottle. The three of you resting against the metal wall that protected the town from the nasty world outside.

“So,” Maggie started as she threw a strawberry stem into a bowl filled with them. “Heard someone talk with Rick.” Sasha and her eyes went to you as you grabbed the glass bottle of auburn liquid. Taking a healthy swig you felt the burn as it went down. You were far too sober to be talking about this. Talking about him. Because no one in the group knew why you guys ended it. Just one day you were a happy couple and the next you were packing up and moving into your own brownstone. Sasha took the bottle from you, making you whine. As you tried to reach for it but the former firefighter held it out of reach. Her hand on your chest also keeping you away from it.

“You can get some when you tell us what happened.” She landed down the rule and it makes you groan as you move to lay against the wall. You don't want to talk about it. You just want to wallow and let the scar form on your heart in peace.

A crack of thunder sends the trio onto the back porch of Maggie’s home. Lucky for you guys because moments after; the dark clouds opened up letting down heavy droplets that ping off the porch’s roof. Sasha is distracted by the rain. Asking Maggie if the crops will be ok. Allowing you to snatch the bottle from her hand and take another big glug. The bottle is half gone now. And honestly so are you. The alcohol works fast as your brain starts to go fuzzy. Sasha takes the bottle back slightly annoyed. But it clear the break-up has been hard. So she lets it go.

“You got your drink.” She says putting the cap back on and sitting it to the side out of your reach. “Now tell us what happened.”

“I don’t know.” You sob. You weren’t normally an emotional drunk. But with everything going on with Rick. Tonight you were. 

  And I know we weren't perfect

But I've never felt this way for no one, oh

And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay, now that I'm gone

  Maggie held you as you drunkenly cried. Sasha joined you on the other side, rubbing your back. You finally opened up about your breakup with Rick a month ago. You weren’t sure how much they understood because of the loud rain and your blubbering. But either way, they consoled you. Trying to help the only way they could. And the only way they knew how. Simply being there. Because for a month you kept this end. Kept this to yourself. So those outside of the group saw you were fine. The break-up didn’t seem to affect you. You carried on with work. Talked with Rick when it was needed. You acted fine. 

But the group knew it. Of course, they knew. It was an act. Because they saw how you were breaking. How you had a longing in your eyes when the cowboy boots-wearing man walked by. The smile that rarely reached your lips. You were faking so much of your joy because your heart was broken. 

“I just don’t get how he is so ok. Did I mean nothing?” The two women share a look at your question. Because they also know that Rick isn’t ok. Like you, he is acting. Because he is the leader and can’t break down. But the man isn’t ok. They don’t say that. Rick was the one that ended it. That was on him.

“I don’t know,” Maggie says softly as you rest your head onto her shoulder. “I wish I had the answer for you. But only Rick does.”

  Red lights, stop signs

I still see your face in the white cars, front yards

Can't drive past the places we used to go to

'Cause I still fuckin' love you, babe

  The street lights are now on. It’s still raining when you tell Maggie you were going home. Sasha and her try to get you to stay the night. Or at least until the rain lets up. But the rain isn't letting up. It was so heavy you could barely see a few steps in front of you. But you step off the back porch and disappear down the alleyway of the lined-up homes. You walk. Just walk because you don’t want to go home just yet. If you go home you’ll be lonely. And you don’t want that. Because for a month you have been lonely in that damn brownstone. Rick wasn’t lonely. He was with Jessie. His arms wrapped around her body. Damn your brain. Just because you didn’t want to be lonely didn’t mean you wanted to think about them together. 

  The rain started to ease up as you found yourself passing Rick’s house. The lights upstairs were on. As you quickly looked away from the cookie-cutter home. A shiver ran through you and shoved your hands into your soaked jean pockets. Maybe now was a good time to head home. You haven’t even turned when you heard your name being shouted over the rain. Looking back at Rick’s home you see him rushing off the porch and over to you. His dark brown jacket acting as an umbrella. He puts it mostly over you shielding you from the rain.

“What are you doing out here? You're going to get sick.” He frets because he knows how likely that is. Because after the rainstorm when the group was on the trek through Virginia you had gotten sick. “Come on.” He orders and you walk with him toward his house. 

  Sidewalks we crossed

I still hear your voice in the traffic, we're laughing

Over all the noise

  You smile at him lightly as he places a cup of peppermint tea in your hand; you're favorite. You're in one of his white t-shirt and pajama pants. Your hair, no longer wet from the rain but a hot shower. The alcohol is still in your system. How much you don’t know. 

“What were you doing walking in the rain?” He questioned taking the seat next to you. His own cup of tea in his hand.

“Was drinking with Sasha and Maggie.” You look towards him as his eyebrows knit together as the mention of Maggie and drinking. “Maggie was moderating us. She wasn’t drinking, come on. She knows better.” Rick nods bowing his head because he does know better to think that about Maggie. But his time as a cop taught him that some people just don’t care. Not about themselves. Not about others. And sure as hell not about kids. 

“Where did you get the booze from? Daryl?” You snort at him before blowing on your tea taking a careful sip. Sitting the cup down you look back towards him.

“I ain’t no rat officer.” He chuckles. You both do. A little inside joke between you both. And then the silence fell. The awkward uncertain silence of two people who didn’t know what to say next. You chew on the inside of your cheek as you stare into the tea. Rain still going strong outside, trapping on the roof of your former home.  Rick shifts beside you clearing his throat.

“Judy trying to walk.” It makes you smile a bit. 

“That’s good. Soon she’ll be running over you and Carl.” The older man chuckles nodding in agreement but you don’t see it. Head still bowed. Turning your mug as you watch the tea shift with each motion. 

“Seeing anyone?” He was trying to keep the conversation going. But there had to be another question to ask that wasn’t this. You still answer it by shaking your head.

“No. But you seemed to have moved on.” It has some bite to you. You're bitter. Of course, you are. The man you were in love with. Seemed to easily move on after he ended it. You lift the ceramic mug and take a huge glug of your tea. The warmth fills you but it’s not enough.

“Ya. Jessie, she’s…” He doesn’t know what to say. Jessie is ok. Good to have around. Doesn’t make him feel as empty. But she is just not you. All her touches. All her kisses. They feel off and he knows why. Because the hands touching him aren’t yours. Neither are the lips that kiss him. But Rick is stubborn. Even if it hurts you both, he knows you need better. You deserve the world and he just can’t give it to you.

“She’s perfect.” You looked at him. Sadness, rooted so deeply in your eyes. He wants to pull you into him. Tell you that he is sorry. That he will end it with Jessie. Come back to you. And try to make all of this right. But he already drew his line in the sand and he won’t cross it. Because the moment he touches you he knows it will be his undoing.

“She has her flaws. No one is perfect.” Except for you. He wants to add. He hears a quiet 'ya' then it silence once again.

  God, I'm so blue, know we're through

But I still fuckin' love you, babe

  You were gone when Rick woke up. His clothes lay on the guest bed since you were dried. He wondered just when you left. He wondered if you slept at all. Because he didn’t. Knowing you were in the house but not in his arms. He was restless the whole night. He sighs. Picking clothes up. It was sad that he hoped this wouldn’t be the last time. But it most likely was going to be the only time. Because how often are you going to walk in the rain drunk? He takes the clothes to the laundry room. Before he throws the shirt in the basket he lifts it to his nose. Inhaling the flowery body wash scent from when you shower last night. You must found where he hid the body wash you left behind. 

“Hey, dad!” Carl called out from the kitchen forcing Rick to dump the clothes in the basket. Entering the kitchen he smiled at his son. Judith was already in her high chair waiting for breakfast. Carl stood at the counter. The box of peppermint tea in his hands. Shit. He meant to put that up. Carl’s eye shifts from the box towards the sink. Where the mugs from last night sat unwashed. Then the young man turns to his father.

“Y/n was here wasn’t she?” He questioned but it was really a statement. It is the only reason for this tea to be out with two mugs in the sink.

“Ya,” He replied, moving towards his son and taking the box of tea from his hand. The young man sighed watching his father place the tea on a high shelf so only he could get to it.

“Why?” Carl asked.

“It was raining-”

“No,” he cut his father off. “Why did you break up with her?”

“Carl,” Rick sighed. As he pinched the bridge of his nose. If he didn’t want to have this conversation with Daryl or Michonne. He sure as hell didn’t want it with his son. But like Rick the young survivor was stubborn. He stepped into his father's past every time he tried to move around him.

“Carl,” Rick warns but the boy isn’t back down.

“No. You were happy with Y/n. Happier than I have ever seen you. Even with mom. Even before all of this.” The boy gestures at nothing but Rick knows what he means by that. Because he didn’t want to admit it. But his and Lori’s relationship was at rock bottom before the world ended. 

“So why? What happened?” Carl pressed, making Rick sigh. He wondered. Only for a second. If Michonne had put Carl up to his. But he shook that from his head. Michonne won’t do that. This is purely Carl. Because Carl loves you so much. The both of you had apparently clicked before Rick had gotten to the quarry. And that bond only grew over time. 

“It’s complicated, Carl. Now please,” Rick needed him to down the subject. And the young boy seemed to understand but is still pissed. He turns from his father. Feet carrying the young boy towards the door. “Where are you going?” He called out.

“Out!” And the slamming door let Rick know that Carl was gone. He sighed. 

  He knew everyone would move on. You would. Carl would. He would. In the far future, all of this will be just a bad memory. But right now. In the present, it hurt so fucking bad. Tears leaked from his eyes as he sucked in air. He did it to himself. He deserved this pain. And if he could he would take your pain. Allow you to be happy. To find love in someone else better than him. Because you're one of the good things in this ugly world. 

  I know we weren't perfect but I've never felt this way for no one

[mercy-burning]

Your Favorite — Part 1

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: When Y/N comes home from college for the summer to meet her mom's new boyfriend, she finds herself in a rather tough spot when she can’t stop thinking about him— And it seems he feels the same... Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Adults w/ age gap, masturbation (female and male), minor exhibitionism kink, oral sex (male receiving), penetrative sex, breeding kink (kinda? i think? 😅) Word Count: 7.3k (do you see now why I had to make it a miniseries? alsdjfdk)

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | MASTERLIST

DISCLAIMER: In this story, Spencer is dating Y/N’s mom while also having a sexual relationship with the reader herself. Because of that, there are obvious undertones of cheating, alongside some perv-y tendencies when it comes to a partner’s daughter. That being said, Spencer and Y/N’s relationship is consensual. However— If any of what I just forewarned is something that you think will make you uncomfortable while reading, please do not read! If there are any more disclaimers you think I may have missed, don’t hesitate to tell me! There is another post I made HERE with some disclaimers as well if you want to know more about what this story will entail.

NOTE: This intro is already too long, so I’ll just get this out of the way: you can find visual nsfw inspirations for this story over at @mercy-midnight, I’m working on a playlist for this story on my Spotify @/mercyburning, and I don’t know when part 2 and 3 will be out, but you can assume they’ll be here within the next few weeks.

———

JUNE 5th

I hate my mom's new boyfriend.

For the past three months she'd been telling me about this new guy who's "The One" as if "The One" hasn't been like four other guys in the past two years.

And as much as I'd love for my mom to find someone to spend the rest of her life with, I don't believe she'd ever find Mr. Perfect at this rate. Unless she spent more than a few months with them at a time before dragging me home from college for a weekend to meet them, I really don't see it happening.

It just sucks. Because every time she does this, every time I return home, I see the glimmering hope in her eyes and the diminishing spark in his, and I know. I know it won't last, and her heart will be utterly broken within the span of a few months.

I always thought maybe she just had terrible taste in men.

But this time around, when I begrudgingly walk through the door of my childhood home for the summer and see my mother clinging to a man who returns that glimmer in her eyes, I know she's picked a good one.

And I hate him.

His name is Spencer Reid, and he's a retired FBI agent who teaches full time at local colleges now.

He greets me with a bona fide, radiant smile, unlike all the others before, and it sets my insides on fire. And when we sit down for dinner, he's polite (but not in a fake way,) and he seems genuinely curious about my studies and my personality and my relationship with my mother. And when dinner is finished he offers to clean up while Mom and I settle in the living room.

I see the way he looks at me as I leave, a gentle, closed-mouth smile and eyes that linger a little too long on my exposed legs before averting, a glint of shame pooling within them, and it only spreads that fire in my belly.

Maybe I'd been imagining the whole thing, because deep down I wanted him to look at me the way he had... But it's hard to tell when my brain is mostly setting off sirens, blaring "THIS IS WRONG! THIS IS WRONG!" on a loop with blinding lights.

And they're even louder when my mom wraps her arm around me and lays her head atop mine. "Well, what do you think? He's great, huh?"

She's so lovesick, it hurts. It hurts even worse knowing that all I can think about is his big hands wrapped around my throat while he fucks me into the squeaky twin-sized mattress in my bedroom upstairs.

But I can't tell her that, obviously.

And so I decidedly hate him. And I have no choice but lie to her face, embracing her joy and hoping that I'll be able to survive this summer.

"Yeah, Mom. He's really great."

JUNE 19th

It's been two weeks and I can barely stand to be in the same house anymore.

I try to keep myself busy by going outside, to the beach or for long walks in the park; but it's too hot for my liking, and our town is so small that unless I want to spend my time in the grocery store or one of the three bars on Main Street...

I'm stuck either outside where it's hot and uncomfortable, or in the house where it's also hot and uncomfortable.

We have air conditioning, of course, but that's not the problem.

It's Spencer.

I thought by now my little crush on him would have gone, but the longer he hangs around the house, the stronger my feelings for him grow. They're not romantic—nor do I think they ever could be given the fact that if anything serious really were to ever happen between us, my mom would disown me for the rest of my life and murder Spencer with her bare hands—but that doesn't make it any easier on me.

Every day he just exists, right in front of me with that tug-able mop of hair, those warm honey eyes, and his hands that never stop moving. I swear, it's like every time he breathes, his hands are breathing too, challenging me to try and stop them.

But I refuse to touch him. Because I know the moment I do, all will be lost. I won't be able to control myself anymore. And if I don't drop to my knees and try sucking his dick at the dinner table, I'm sure I'll blurt out how I can't handle it anymore and that I need him, and either way I'd be royally fucked.

Right now he's in the dining room, teaching my mom how to do a disappearing card trick. She thinks it's utterly charming that he can do it at all, but mostly that he's patient and willing enough to teach her. And normally I'd agree, but I can barely look at them without wanting to waltz over, grab his wrist, and suck his fingers into my mouth.

It's truly pathetic.

So I try to focus on the television just a few feet away. It's one of those rare instances where I wish our house was bigger, because while I don't mind having less wall-space between rooms, I do mind not being able to watch TV without the kitchen table in my periphery at a time like this. And I think about going up to my bedroom instead for a moment, but I'd have to go past the kitchen, and I just know Mom is going to ask if I'd want Spencer to teach me his magic trick.

And I most definitely do not want that.

In another life, maybe, where he isn't a hot professor and rather an average-looking dude who's way too into fantasy football... But not in this lifetime.

So there I sit, concentrating so hard on Family Feud that my face hurts.

When I hear a flutter of cards and joyous giggling from the other room, it's more than my face that hurts.

It's also my chest, churning and tensing at the hands of the green devil.

Fuck!

I barely even know this man... I haven't really talked to him because I'm afraid that if I try to hold a conversation I'll snap. He's literally just some hot older guy who's dating my mom, and still, my whole body twists and aches with envy when they do anything together, and it fucking sucks. Not only because of the jealousy, but it's also the fact that my mom deserves to be happy.

This time it's different. This time, she's really found someone who returns her every loving gaze, who makes her laugh, who's kind and genuine and not a total douche. She's happier than I've seen her in years.

And the one time she finally finds "The One", every waking second of my life is spent longing for him fuck me.

But it's only been two weeks.

And it's also been nearly two years since I got laid, so maybe that's just my issue...

I figure it can't hurt, so in a spur of the moment decision, I turn the TV off and sprint towards the stairs, right past Mom and Spencer before they can ask questions.

———

I hardly even register the dimness of the light inside the house by the time I glide up the steps, fumbling with the key and trying to make my entrance as quiet as possible. Though, because I'm so used to the dark by this point, the light—no matter how dim—nearly blinds me. The door shuts louder than I'd have liked, and I cringe inwardly, pausing as if that will keep anyone from seeing or hearing me. Not like it'll matter, considering Mom and Spencer are the only ones that are staying here and they'd also been the only ones aware of my plans for the evening.

Well, somewhat, anyway. I told them an old friend invited me out and I probably wouldn't be home until late.

Regardless, that instinct of trying not to get caught coming in late at night is stronger than common sense. Throw a little cheap beer and some shots into the mix, and it almost feels like I'm a teenager again.

The only thing different now is that I have a pool of some stranger's cum soaking my underwear and a man in front of me who stands like an angel. An exhausted, almost scruffy-looking angel more like, but my point still stands.

"You're up late," Spencer observes. It's a simple enough statement— not really judge-y, but I can tell that regardless of his knowledge of my coming home late, he seems shocked to see me coming through the front door right now.

And it's hard to look away from him. Just like it has been for the past two weeks. Still, I try, just barely avoiding his eyes as I cross my arms and fight the urge to clench my legs together. "I'm a whore. What's your excuse?"

Maybe not the best thing to say. But like I said, common sense? Gone.

"O—oh... Umm..." Spencer stumbles through his words, obviously stunned by my response, and the look in his eyes kind of makes me want to curl up in a ball and die from embarrassment. Still, I stand my ground and wait for him to continue.

He settles on a short, "I can't sleep," and then there's nothing else.

"Ah," I express. One syllable. I don't draw it out, I don't exaggerate it... This is the first real conversation I've had alone with him, and I've made it extremely awkward, so I sigh and take a few steps forward, trying to walk past him. "Okay. Goodnight."

I only make it a few steps before he stops me, his hand reaching out to tap my shoulder. "Wait—"

The touch makes me jump, and he pulls it away immediately as I turn to face him. My heart is racing at the speed of light, my panties are soaked through, and if I'm not careful that whole 'no common sense' thing is going to bite me so hard in the ass I won't have one left.

"Can I talk to you?" His voice is barely audible, and the gentle rasp it has to it seems to make me even more wet.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

"Look, I um... Your mom has been totally transparent with me about her relationships, so I know that she's been through a lot of them in a short amount of time... And I know that must be a little difficult for you. Especially now that I'm here... And you've been... distant. And I know that I don't know you that well, so forgive me if I'm assuming anything, but I just want you to know that I don't have any intention of making things difficult for you and your mother."

Too late, pal, I think bitterly, the gentle authority in his tone setting my insides alight. I'm positive that voice could get me to do so many things...

That's the alcohol and sex talking, Y/N, just shake it and move on...

He starts again, but I cut him off with a short wave of my hand. "Look, I... I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I had a really long night, and I'm exhausted. I just wanna shower and go to bed."

I expect more resistance, but Spencer only nods. I still can't bring myself to look him in the eye, though this time I catch his hands clenching at the bottom hem of his shirt. "I understand. Sleep well."

Without another word I turn on my heel and walk a little faster towards the stairs, and I'm about to take my first step when I realize he's followed me. His voice calls out my name softly from a few feet behind, and it stops me in my tracks regardless of my desire to get out of there as fast as I can. And then I turn around and finally look directly at his face.

Big mistake.

His eyes are on my legs again, trailing slowly upwards until he reaches my face. The light over here is dimmer, barely noticeable at all, though I swear I can see red forming on his cheeks.

"I like your dress," he says softly. It's almost meek, like he'd been afraid to say it but took a chance anyway.

It's such a random, small compliment, but with the alcohol and endorphins flowing through my body after the night I'd just had, it nearly makes me quiver.

It also makes me incredibly stupid.

An amused, almost sensual grin forms on my face as I make eye contact with him, and I feel myself throb at the way I can just barely see his throat move. He looks like a deer in headlights, afraid to make one sudden move.

"Turning to flattery to try and win me over, are we?" I say slowly.

I almost think he'll stumble over his words once more, but again he surprises me with a full answer. It's only three words but it's clear, and his voice is deep, and I want to fucking jump his bones right then and there.

"Is it working?"

This has to be the alcohol making me imagine things... I swear I didn't even drink that much tonight, but it has to be an obvious lapse in judgement. The drinking mixed with the sex mixed with the dirty thoughts I've been having about this man lately have to be what's making this feel real. It's all culminating into this one big fantasy (or delusion, more like), and all I need is to shower and sleep it off.

That has to be it.

So because there's no other reasonable explanation that my brain can conjure up, I take a chance and throw Spencer a wink before turning and sprinting up the stairs.

And it's that same seemingly undeniable reasoning for this illusion that doesn't keep my hands from wandering in the shower. Even though those warning sirens in my brain keep blaring, telling me that the common sense is still there for me to utilize, they're drowned out by my thrumming heartbeat and the repetition of Spencer's soothing, authoritative voice, guiding my movements.

Keep rubbing your clit for me, baby... Just like that, nice and slow...

Warm water cascades down the front of my body as I lean back into the wall of the shower, but that's not why I'm so warm. This heat radiates through my insides, spreading like wildfire and bringing out small whimpers and mewls that I know I'll have to contain in fear of waking my mom from her bedroom right next door.

But then the thought of her hearing me next door as I cry out her boyfriend's name only excites me more. I keep it quiet still, but just knowing that someone else is in the house while I'm having these thoughts right now (one of them being the object of said thoughts) is what finally brings me over the edge.

I finish my shower on weak legs, definitely overstimulated now, but also feeling even more tired. I know that the moment I lay down on my bed, I'll be pulled into the sweet, soft surrender of a deep sleep.

Nothing else has ever sounded so pleasant.

———

When I woke up that morning after, I was feeling surprisingly calm. Realistically I knew that my whole 'this has to be an illusion' montage had been less truth and more inebriated babble, and the longer I sat on it the more I thought it'd all turned out for the better.

Turns out, tipsily masturbating in the shower to thoughts of your mom's hot new boyfriend was a surefire way to get it out of your system, right?

Wrong.

It really had been okay at first. I thought about Spencer almost immediately, and yeah, he was still hot as fuck—But there wasn't this overwhelming desire within me to jump his bones when I saw him that morning, his hair messy and his hands clutching a cup of coffee while Mom made breakfast behind him.

But that good feeling I had about all of this? It lasts only about a split second.

Because the moment he looks up and sees me, the mug falls out of his hand and shatters to pieces. His eyes stay glued to me, even as my mother darts over to pick up the pieces of the ceramic that are scattered about the table and the floor. And when she turns back to grab a paper towel, he still stares at me, once again at my legs.

It takes me all of four seconds afterwards to remember that not only did I talk to him briefly last night, but I also flirted with him after he complimented me.

That whole part seemed to have slipped my mind when waking up, and now that his gaze is bringing me back to that moment, that 'this has to be an illusion' montage is starting to become larger than I'd remembered.

It isn't until he finally snaps out of it and starts to help my mom clean up the mess that I snap out of it, too, going back upstairs to clear my head and cool the heat radiating over my skin.

———

There's a knock at my bedroom door about an hour later, and it sounds different than my mom's usually quick two-knock succession. That means it's someone else, and unsurprisingly, my stomach tightens at the thought of seeing him again.

"Yeah?" I call out, turning in my desk chair and meeting Spencer's figure in the doorway. He's changed, a rather nice pair of slacks and a white button-up shirt clinging to his limbs.

"Can I come in?"

"Mhm," I say. I still don't know if I entirely trust myself to say anything more than a few words to him, and as he enters the room and sits on the foot of my bed, I wonder if he can tell.

He tries, really tries, to look me in the eye, but I know that it's hard. I've been in the same spot. And then he takes a deep breath before folding his hands in his lap.

"Y/N, I want to apologize... When we... talked last night... It was kind of weird, and then this morning wasn't really any better..." He can barely get out the words 'talk' and 'last night'... And then he avoids my gaze altogether, staring at the floor and trailing off, trying to put his thoughts together it seems.

And that's when it starts to click into place.

There's one thing that both last night and this morning have in common, and I've noticed it almost every time I've caught him staring at me. At my legs. It's happened almost daily since I've met him. And then, the night I come home clearly having just been fucked, waltzing past him, entertaining his fascination with my legs and then masturbating to thoughts of him in the shower, he finally starts dropping mugs.

He must also really feel something here. Something similar to my own feelings. And really, that should be a red flag, because he's my mom's boyfriend, and it's a goddamned fucking mess...

But fuck, it excites me.

I'm still wearing my pajama shorts, silky and lavender in color, and I use them to my advantage, slowly crossing one leg over the other and just barely gaining Spencer's attention back.

"Yeah, what was that, anyway?" I ask him, amusement dripping off my tongue.

I can tell from his reaction that he wasn't expecting me to ask. A few times he opens his mouth to speak and then closes it , stumbling before panicking. He's been pretty good so far at coming up with answers and explanations, so the fact that this time I finally seemed to have broken him down makes it all the more clear.

He must have heard me in the shower.

Right?

I'm almost completely positive that's what this is about. And there's one way for me to get the confirmation I'm looking for.

"So you heard me, huh?"

I try to keep my voice as plain as I can as not to give away my motives, and with my luck Spencer is so flustered that he probably wouldn't have even noticed it at all. He looks up at me, his eyes desperately trying to find something he can use to make up a lie, but in the end there's no use.

I've caught him. And he knows it.

"Yes," he whispers. He looks exhausted, guilty, and also a little like he wants to cross the barrier and kiss me.

Okay, maybe that part's just in my head. I really can't tell. But I do know that hearing me call his name out in the shower last night is what brought him to this point of severe distress. As much as that excites me, though, it also embarrasses me a little. Maybe if it hadn't happened we could have avoided further destruction.

It must read on my face, because Spencer perks a little. "Oh! Y/N, I'm not... I'm not mad or anything. I really didn't mean to overhear and invade your privacy... Really, I-I'm sorry."

The fact that he's apologizing to me right now, rather than acting all grossed out that I even did it in the first place, tells me he either feels guilty for not being able to help himself from hearing me, or he's just a good guy who loves my mom and doesn't want to ruin it because of a little mishap.

Either way, it's frustrating, because I don't know what to do.

Well, I know what I want to do, but I don't know if I should hint at it.

But then he does something. It's small, and no one would have noticed, but I've been fascinated with his hands since the moment I met him, so my eyes are instantly drawn there.

They're clenched so hard, his knuckles are nearly white.

He's nervous.

To ease his mind a bit, I hold off on poking the bear harder (though it's really tempting to see what will happen if I don't) and nod, trying to make myself look as apologetic and small as possible.

"It's okay... I... I won't make it awkward if you won't?"

His shoulders slump, and his body seems to relax. "Y–yeah. Yeah, deal."

He gets up off the bed and blurts one final apology before heading for the door, but that part of me that wants to poke the bear further makes me stand up and follow him.

"Spencer?" I call out.

He freezes and turns to face me, and I don't think he quite expected me to be as close as I am. I have to tilt my head up to look at him, and the angle gives me an added layer of this innocence I'm trying to achieve.

"I'm sorry, too..."

No the fuck I'm not.

Whether he can sense my lie or not, he doesn't show it. But I think he at least knows that I'm pitching my voice a little higher on purpose, and if that doesn't give it away, the way I'm staring at him sure should.

Still, he only nods and retreats.

All there's left to do is see what happens.

JUNE 25th

For someone who agreed not to make things awkward, Spencer sure can't keep his eyes off of me.

To be fair, I have tried to keep things fairly normal. I only really interacted with him if I had to, I kept my distance, and I saved my skimpier clothing for the strangers I was regularly going out to see almost every weekend.

My lustful feelings for him aren't as strong now that I've been getting some on a semi-regular basis and keeping myself occupied. I've been doing my part.

But I still can't shake him entirely.

Whenever he spends the night (which is surprisingly most nights), the occasional wet dream about him gets me frustrated when I know he's just down the hall and sleeping soundly next to my mom. On those days I try to cut as much interaction with him as I can, though it doesn't keep me from seeing the occasional stare he throws my way.

I wish I could say that I hate it.

But I don't, and it increasingly gets worse. It's only been a week, so there's still time, but honestly, I don't think there's any shaking him.

Today especially is one of those days where it's hard not to give into the incessant need to tease him and coax some stronger reaction out of him.

I talked to Mom earlier this morning about getting some new clothes, and she had this brilliant idea to have Spencer take me. "It would be a good chance for you two to bond a little, don't you think?" she insisted, nudging him in the side and silently pleading with her eyes for him to agree.

I could tell from the look on his face that he really wasn't ready to be alone with me again, but that only excited me.

"Yeah, I think that's a great idea," I piped up, positively beaming.

Mom was so excited for us to 'bond' and also that I was gladly inclined to go through with it that Spencer couldn't have said no to her even if he wanted to.

And I was pretty sure he didn't want to.

Yet here we are, sitting in the car, the air conditioning so strong it's blowing some of my hair into my eyes. I think it had been his way of punishing me for choosing today to wear a short skirt, something I usually refrain from nowadays unless I'm going out, and it makes me smile. I can't help it.

I also can't help the way my fingers play with my skirt, dying to tease him some more. I just want to see, to know for sure that I'm driving him mad.

"No offence, but you seem weird today... Is there something wrong?" I ask him, lifting my skirt just a smidge. The air from the car blows the fabric in waves.

"You're acting this way on purpose."

Well, I hadn't been expecting that answer... All this time he'd hardly been confrontative, and now he's full-on calling me out. It's plain to see that he's finally snapped, and I would have felt sorry about it if I didn't find it extremely sexy.

"What do you mean?"

"Y/N..."

My name on his lips is a warning. He's clearly annoyed, exasperated, and I'm loving every second. "Don't act oblivious. I'm not stupid, and neither are you. I don't want to make you hate me or anything, but you have to know where I'm coming from. I was willing to let the shower thing slide... And you said you were too, for that matter, so I don't know what's changed, but it has to stop now. Understood?"

Oh, all I want is to argue with him. I want to point out that none of this is really my fault because he's the one who hasn't been able to stop staring at me all summer so far. I want to tell him that if he wants this to stop he has to make it stop.

But that isn't going to give me any of the answers I'm looking for or further proof of my theory that he wants me just as badly as I want him. And I am not going to fuck this whole situation up by making a poorly-timed move on him.

I have to know for sure.

So, I fold my hands neatly in my lap, sigh, and look dead ahead. "Right... We said no awkwardness. I'm sorry."

Spencer seems to accept my apology and continues down the road.

When we make it to the mall I think he's calmed down. At least, he seems a little more comfortable around me, and honestly I'm okay with it. As much as his spiel in the car turned me on, it also exhausted me to the point of silence.

Even as we walk around each store in the mall, I just lead and he follows, not saying a word when I pick out a top or a pair of pants or whatever else I need. And when it comes time to pay, he takes the basket from me and pays for it with no question.

Near five bags of clothes later, I figure I could get used to this new dynamic.

But then we pass a lingerie store, and I remember that the main thing I'd needed was new underwear. I start to turn into the store, but stop suddenly, pausing awkwardly and deciding to go straight ahead instead.

"You don't want to go in?" Spencer asks.

I shake my head. "No, it's fine. I can just pick some up later, it's not a big deal."

He sighs then, nodding his head towards the sign. "If you need to go in, you can... I'll just wait out here if you're uncomfortable."

I really want to call him out, ask him if he's the one who should be worried about being uncomfortable. But so far this afternoon has been pretty decent, and I really don't want to make things any weirder than they have to be.

Besides... If my theory is right...

"Sure. Thanks. Uh, how am I gonna pay, though?"

"O—Oh... I'll uh... I'll just watch the counter and come in when you need me."

"Orrrr, you could just give it to me?"

This time I get a laugh out of him. "Not a chance. Go in, I'll wait."

I smile at him and hand him the bags to hold onto while I leave, and it fills me with absolute amusement that he'd just given me one more ounce of proof that I'm right.

He's gonna have to come inside and pay for what I bought. He could have just given me the card, and maybe he truly doesn't trust me with it (which I don't know why he wouldn't honestly), but he chose to come inside all the same.

I browse happily then, going through the displays and picking out things I need, but also things I know Spencer will like.

Specifically, I stumble on a pair of lavender panties, embroidered with flowery trim up top. The pattern from the outside is lace, but there's a thin layer of cotton underneath designed to be more comfortable to wear.

I've noticed that he can never seem to look away when I'm wearing anything, really, but it's more intense when I wear one of two things. Florals, and any type of purple. And these fit both of those bills perfectly.

Now there's just one more bill to take care of.

I stride over to the counter and turn around, finding that Spencer's caught my eye immediately. Either he truly had been paying attention to the counter the whole time, or he'd been watching through the glass, following me with his gaze to the best of his abilities. Either way, he blinks a few times and looks like he's gathering the courage to go in before actually taking any steps.

I laugh to myself, eager to gauge his reaction to this next step.

Surprisingly, he holds up well. The air between me, him, and the cashier is obviously awkward, but he doesn't say anything and barely looks at what she rings up. (I say barely because he tries extremely hard not to look at the purple pair I picked out, inadvertently adding another checkmark to my list of proof.) She tells him the total, he hands her the card, and within a minute, everything is in our possession and we're leaving the mall entirely.

I don't think there are any more steps to my plan today once we get in the car and I tell him thank you. (To which he responds a short and simple, Sure thing, and turns the radio on.)

But then there's a note taped to the front door, and it instantly gives me another one.

My Sweethearts,

I got called in on a work emergency and won't be back until 7. I would have called but I figured you were having a nice time and didn't want to interrupt! I'll bring home dinner, and then maybe you can tell me about how your day went. Can't wait to hear it!

XOXO,

Eve/Mom

I check my phone, seeing that it's almost 3.

Perfect.

But I don't want to give myself away too quickly, so I thank Spencer again for taking me out and tell him that I'm going upstairs to make sure everything fits right. He nods and lets me go, though not without lingering eyes. I can feel it.

The smile never leaves my face as I try all my clothes on. Once each article has been fitted, I throw it in a laundry basket and move to the next, until I get to the last piece.

The lavender panties.

As expected, they fit perfectly, and as I look at myself in the mirror I picture what Spencer would look like when he sees me wearing them.

That's right. When.

I throw back on my earlier outfit and grab the basket, acting as bored and normal as possible to find him sitting at the kitchen table, reading a book.

"Hey," I greet him, setting the basket in front of me once I reach the bottom of the stairs. "Everything fits good, I just need them washed now. Could you run these down to the laundry room for me? I think I'm gonna make something to snack on before Mom brings dinner."

It doesn't surprise me to see him look at my legs before my face, even if it is brief. I want to smile, but I hold back, watching him nod with a tight smile of his own.

"Sure."

He disappears and then I wait.

One...

Two...

Three.

I sneak as quietly as I can to the laundry room once I hear the washer door open. I hadn't specifically asked him to put them in the washer for me on purpose, and it looks like now he's doing exactly what I thought he might.

My head peeks around the corner, barely in his range of sight as I watch him empty the basket. He takes one item of clothing at a time and throws it in the washer, and halfway through the basket he stops, just to place a pair of my new underwear on the dryer beside him.

My heart races faster the more I wait for him to get to the end of the basket. Once he does, he pauses again, and I think I know exactly what he's looking for.

Still, he sets the basket aside and picks up the stray pair of underwear, a simple black cotton pair that I'd been getting for years, and drapes it over his hands. My thighs instantly clench, and I try so hard to remain where I am so I can see where he takes this.

He takes it straight to hell, apparently, tentatively pulling his dick out of his pants and gripping it firmly. I can barely see since his back is partially turned, but I see enough, and god he's so fucking pretty. My underwear dangle from his left hand while the other works slowly over his erection, a soft sigh falling from his lips.

I fight to let one of my own slip as my hand sinks down the front of my body, past the lavender cotton and lace that I know he just wishes he had right now.

And then, a few seconds later he's already coming, using my brand new underwear to catch each rope of it, and the sight nearly has me on my knees.

And because I want to catch him in the act, I quickly draw my hand away from myself and step into the room, barely giving him time to recover.

"You come fast."

Spencer looks utterly devastated when he turns to see me standing in the entryway to the laundry room, arms crossed and an amused smirk adorning my face.

"Y/N... I—I... I'm so sorry, I didn't... I..."

"Don't worry about it," I say, taking a step towards him and shrugging. "You heard me, and now I heard you... We're even. Besides, I... figured you might be looking for these."

He's still stunned, but he looks down all the same, watching my hands slip under my skirt and glide the lavender panties down my legs. I step out of them and hold the garment up on one finger, a soft smile still on my face.

"I picked 'em out just for you, you know," I tell him, tossing them past his face and into the washer. "I've noticed that you like purple."

This time he's quick to respond. "Y/N, we... We can't... This isn't right."

"Says the man holding my underwear soaked in his cum..."

He looks panicked again, extremely guilty, but if this isn't going to end in a total disaster, then I have to reassure him that I'm okay.

"Spencer, I'm not mad..." I take another step forward, and it feels much like trying to approach a wounded animal. I can see in his eyes and in his posture that this conflict is killing him, so I decide to show some rapport. "And I know... I know this is messy... I love my mom... And I'm sure you care about her a lot... But are we really going to ignore this? We tried that, remember? And now look where we are."

"I..." He swallows, shaking his head and trying to avoid my eyes. "I can't stop thinking about you... I can't..."

My hand finds his arm, and the light touch has him sighing out, an incredulous, breathy laugh escaping him. "Y/N, please... Don't."

"Don't what?" I ask softly, praying he won't turn me away. If he does, we're just back to square one, only the square is jagged, sharper than ever before, and in serious danger of injuring someone.

When he meets my eyes, I see nothing but a desire for something he knows he can't have. "Don't want me."

Now it's my turn to laugh. My knees start to wobble as I go down, keeping my eyes locked onto his, and I swear I see them dilate fully. I scoot in closer, sliding my hand up his leg and finding the words in my heart to finally say out loud.

"It's too late for that..."

My face moves closer, and the hand of his that doesn't currently hold my underwear flies down to gently tug at my hair, keeping me in place.

"If you do this... God, Y/N, I won't be able to stop myself..."

A smirk dances over my lips as I lean in, breath fanning gently over his exposed skin. "Don't."

He swallows. "Don't what?"

"Don't stop yourself."

I barely get the words out before his hand is completely pulling me towards him, and the second my lips press against the silky skin of his hard cock, he loses it completely.

His fingers thread through my hair as I kiss and lick my way softly up to the tip. Once I'm there, I swirl my tongue out and taste the small beads of cum that had remained after he came, a low, satiated hum radiating through my body and making him shiver under my touch.

And then I wrap my lips fully around the head of his dick, and there's no stopping the most beautiful sound I've ever heard come out of his mouth. It's a broken, desperate whisper of my name. The crack in his voice when he says it spurs me forward, and I take him deeper into my mouth until he hits the back of my throat.

That's when he tosses my underwear in the washer and uses both of his hands to grab my head, roughly guiding me along his cock and fully taking control of my actions.

The fire in my belly doesn't ease up, not even once he's decided that he can't take it anymore and pulls me off of him harshly.

And that's only because now he's fully turned over, finally given into these desires that have been plaguing him presumably from the moment we met.

"I want you stripped and in your bed, on your hands and knees within the next five minutes."

I get up off the floor and walk up to him until our bodies are flush, my arms reaching up to wrap around his neck.

"What are you gonna do to me, Spencer?"

He searches my eyes, and his own grow dark with the purest form of sin I'd ever seen. And when his hands come up over the back of my legs, and under my skirt to grab my ass and pull me even closer to him, I can't help the little mewl that slips past my lips.

He smiles, and if it hadn't been for the grip he held on me, I would have fallen to my knees. "Little girl, when I'm through with you, you'll have to come up with some excuse to your mom about why you can't walk straight... Is that what you want?"

The mention of my mom should send me running in the opposite direction, but his threat only prolongs that fire in my veins and makes me want him even more.

I tilt my head up and press a gentle kiss to his lips.

"Do your worst..."

———

Turns out he was very true to his word.

Sitting at the kitchen table is somewhat of a relief, but I try not to walk around as much when Mom gets home. She'd asked me almost immediately if I was okay, and I told her I was just hungry and needed to eat something.

She seemed to have bought it, rushing to the kitchen to unpack the fast food she'd ordered for us. Over her shoulder, Spencer gave me a sly smile, and it took everything I had within myself not to crumble.

Through bites of food, I only half-listen to Mom telling us about the stuff she had to do at work because most of the words I'm hearing are in my head— A loop of endless dirty talk that plants deep into the soil of my stomach and spreads out through my whole body. It infects me, like the most beautiful poison, and I never want it to stop.

"Tell me, sweetheart, you ever let a man come inside you before?"

His weight on top of me coupled together with the heft of his voice has me whining out in pleasure, each snap forward of his hips over my ass as he pounds into me from behind the most delectable burn I've ever felt.

"Uh huh," I answer happily, twisting my head to feel his cheek against my own. "That night you heard me in the shower... I walked through the door with a stranger's cum soaking my panties... And you know what?"

He grumbles, his hips hitting into me harder as he waits for me to continue.

"I wished it was yours..."

My legs clench together under the table and I take a large gulp of water.

I feel something graze over my bare shin, and I already know it's Spencer's foot, a silent reassurance of his presence and that no matter what, he'll always be here.

"Here's what's going to happen..."

He has me on my back now, my legs hoisted over his shoulders and bent back so I'm nearly folded in half. His hips are flush against mine and I can feel his cock throbbing as he comes into the condom.

"You're gonna make an appointment to make sure you're clean... You're gonna make sure you're on good birth control... And then the next time I fuck this pretty little pussy, you're gonna really know what it feels like to have a man come inside you."

Right... Like I really need a reminder of his presence.

I can practically feel it still inside me, taking up every inch of space my body could provide. And no matter how long I go without seeing him, I have no doubt that it'll always remain.

"But that's enough about me, I'm sorry." Mom's voice shifts and breaks me out of my fantasy. "So, how did your day of bonding go? You have fun?"

Spencer and I share a look, a smile spreading over his lips that makes me smile in turn.

"Yeah, Mom," I say. "It was great."

He nods in kind. "Yeah... We'll definitely have to do it again."

His foot grazing over my leg under the table cements the unwavering smile on my face, as does the way my whole body burns at the memory of him fucking me upstairs only hours before.

I don't even flinch or get sick to my stomach when Mom reaches over and gives Spencer a kiss.

———

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[onecanonlife]

Tommy’s getting tired of people thinking he’s not real. Tubbo, meanwhile, hopes that this hallucination of his best friend will stay a while longer.

They work it out.

(word count: 1,563)

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

It only takes about another fifteen minutes for him to snap.

“What the fuck are you doing that for?” he demands, planting his feet and wheeling around and staring Tubbo dead in the face, because Tubbo’s been trailing along behind him like a fucking lost puppy or some shit since he got out, and he’s tired of it, tired of his best friend looking at him like that, with equal amounts of wonder and dread in his eyes, like he’s not fucking real at all.

Or should that be former best friend? He doesn’t fucking know. Apparently, it didn’t take all that long for Tubbo to replace him with Ranboo of all people. And get married. Apparently.

Tubbo blinks at him.

“I don’t think you’re real,” he says, and if Tommy’s anger hadn’t been boiling over before, it is now. He didn’t go to hell and back for people to tell him he’s not real. He didn’t stay in the same cell as Dream for a month for people to tell him he’s not real. He is so, so very real. The shock that shoots through his system, the bolt of all-consuming terror that overtakes his mind whenever anyone so much as bumps into him is proof enough of that. He is real, and who the fuck is anyone else to say that he’s not?

“Well guess what,” he says, “I fucking am, so deal with it or go away.”

He spent so long wishing to be by Tubbo’s side again. He didn’t think he’d get out to find this. Didn’t think he’d come out to be replaced. Didn’t think Tubbo would crouch along after him without saying anything at all, like he’s the one who died.

“You don’t need to be angry about it,” Tubbo replies, as if he’s the one being wronged here. “I’ve got it all figured out. See, I didn’t think you were dead at first, either. Sam told us and my brain went all weird and flat and in denial, because I knew it couldn’t be true, because you couldn’t be dead. But then it was a few days later and you still hadn’t come out, and it was true after all. So I can’t trust my brain, really, so this is probably my brain going into denial again. Wishful thinking.”

“You—” He cuts himself off, rage warring with confusion warring with he-doesn’t-fucking-know-what, because he’s been dead and locked in prison and he’s not even used to the sunlight yet, much less his own emotions. “I literally pinched you. I pinched you, and then you ran away and stood staring at me from that new—that new McDonald’s!”

“Tactile hallucinations aren’t impossible,” Tubbo informs him. “It’s probably because I’ve been thinking about you a lot.”

That draws him up short, just a little bit. “You have?” he asks. “I thought you got married.”

“I did,” Tubbo agrees. “It was a spur-of-the-moment sort of thing, really, so nobody got invited, but I was thinking about maybe having a bigger ceremony once you got out so you could be my best man, or something. I don’t really know how that works. ‘Cause it’s a platonic marriage, right, so I don’t know if you’re supposed to do it differently. But I wanted you to be there, and then it turned out that you wouldn’t ever, ever be.”

Well. Alright, so he wasn’t disregarded entirely, then. But still—

“And then,” Tubbo continues, “and then we adopted Michael, and I wanted you to be his godfather. You were supposed to be his godfather. Michael was going to love you. I thought you were gonna come back out and you were gonna meet Michael and everything was going to be alright. But then you didn’t.”

“Who the fuck is Michael,” he says flatly, even though his head is reeling because adopted—?

“He’s our son!” Tubbo says. “Mine and Ranboo’s! And you were gonna be the godfather. And it was going to be great, and we were gonna be a family, but then you died, and now Michael’s not even going to get to meet you. And you’re just, you’re just dead and I’m following you around because I don’t have anything better to do.”

There is—there is so much to unpack there, he doesn’t even know where to begin. Ranboo is—is the spouse, then, and he supposes he should have guessed that. The Michael issue isn’t too much clearer, since he doesn’t have a frame of reference for this—for this child? That Tubbo has adopted? What the hell? But it’s the last sentence that sends the anger flooding back, because what the fuck does he mean, he doesn’t have anything better to do?

“If that’s how you feel, then why don’t you—” he starts, but Tubbo cuts him off.

“I’m sort of pathetic, I guess,” he says. “‘Cause I’m following around a hallucination. I guess it’s because I know it’s the best I’m ever going to get. And you know, I’d rather have a you that’s not real than not have you at all, because this way, I get to see you and hear you. Even if you’re not here. So I need to enjoy it while I can, because I don’t know how long hallucinations last for, so I don’t know when you’ll go away again. And I don’t want you to go away. I don’t want you to be dead.”

All through this speech, Tubbo’s face remains distant, a little open, a little blank. But his eyes are welling up with tears, and as Tommy watches, they start spilling over his cheeks, uncommented upon.

And Tommy feels the rage drain out of him.

It was hell, where he was, in that terrible darkness, that void, being torn apart and shoved back together again. It was hell, coming back, everything too bright and too loud and too much, his body flinching and his heart racing at any movement, and a single touch is still enough to send him back there, to that moment, his vision fading and pain bursting like fireworks and Dream’s mask leaning over him, grinning.

It’s been hell, seeing how everything’s changed.

But Tubbo missed him. Really, really missed him. And maybe he’s replaced him a bit, and Tommy no longer has any idea how to feel about that, because it seems like Tubbo wasn’t trying to? That Tubbo still wanted him to be there, still intended him to be there? So he’s still a little pissed, maybe, and he still really, really wants people to stop being so weird, to stop reminding him at every juncture that he died, died and came back, but—

But Tubbo is crying.

“Tubbo,” he says, “I’m not a hallucination.”

“You are, though,” Tubbo says. “My mind’s playing tricks. You’re not—you’re not really—” He hiccups, and Tommy comes to a decision.

He extends a hand. It should be fine. It’s just Tubbo, and he’s choosing to do this. It should be fine. It’s going to be fine.

“C’mon, then,” he says. “Hold my hand, I’ll prove it. Maybe you could make up a pinch in your brain, but I bet you couldn’t make up this.”

Tubbo stares at his hand for a very, very long time.

“Don’t make this weird,” he says. “Tubbo, please, for the love of god, don’t make this weird. I really will go away, and you can just stay here and cry.”

Tubbo blinks, hard. And then, slowly, reaches out and takes his hand.

Tommy flinches, every nerve in his body lighting up, screaming at him to get away, and he can’t stop himself from gasping, from letting out a little whimper. But in the next moment, he’s fine, his heart rate already calming, and it’s just Tubbo’s hand in his, his grip loose and warm.

Tubbo’s eyebrows furrow. A minute passes before he speaks.

“This is a long time for a tactile hallucination to last,” he says.

Tommy rolls his eyes as hard as he possibly can, in order to express all of his exasperation.

“I’m not a fucking hallucination, alright?” he says. “Has married life made you an idiot or something?”

Tubbo looks up at him, then. He looks back, and tries to convey with his eyeballs his sheer displeasure at literally all of this.

“I’m holding your hand,” Tubbo says slowly. “You’re not disappearing, and I’m holding your hand.”

He tries to convey with his eyeballs that Tubbo should consider arriving at the point sometime soon.

“Oh my god,” Tubbo says. “You’re real. Tommy, you’re real.”

“Damn fucking right I’m real,” he says. And something like relief washes over him. It’s nice to hear those words, from someone else. And Tubbo just stands there and holds his hand and keeps crying, harder, if that’s even possible, and Tommy thinks that this is a scene that he should possibly put a stop to.

But he doesn’t. He stands there and holds Tubbo’s hand and lets Tubbo cry. Because nothing is alright. Nothing at all is alright. Everything sucks and everything’s different and he needs to kill Dream and the world kept on turning without him. But Tubbo is glad to have him back. Tubbo missed him. Tubbo still wants him.

If his eyes are wet, it’s just the rain. He glances up, and blinks against the sun.

Just the rain.

[thescarletwitchsapprentice]

A Pure Soul: Nearly Taken (Yandere!Wanda Maximoff x ADD!autistic!reader)

*Not my GIF.

Summary: The day (y/n) comes back to the compound after being told all those nasty things takes a toll on their mental health and self-esteem. Unfortunately it gets to a point that Wanda hoped it would NEVER reach.

Request?: Still none.

Word Count: 3,456

Warnings: Ableism, eugenics mention, r-word slur, attempted suicide, attempted overdose, hurt and comfort.

Notes: This is a sort of “in-between scene” from “A Pure Soul.” The rate of suicide is 3 times higher in autistic people because of the world’s lack of understanding and willingness to accommodate us. Plus being told the world would be better off without you, along with people looking for ways to make sure we’re not born....that’s gonna take a toll. So it makes sense for these feelings to emerge.

=============================================

You know that the world isn’t very kind to the disabled.

You know that the world wishes people like you wouldn’t exist.

But that doesn’t make what happened hurt any less.

You were out shopping when you ran into your best friend from high school. Except....this friend wasn’t the same as you knew them. No, instead they showed you their true colors.

“Oh hey, (y/n),” they said.

Tone has never been your specialty.

“Hey!” you exclaimed happily as you were looking through the books at your local bookstore. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you! How are you?”

“Better. How’s the treatment coming along?”

This confused you.

“Treatment?”

They nodded.

“For that disease you call autism.”

This struck a chord, and it struck HARD. How could they say something like that?!

“D-disease?!”

They smirked.

“I mean, it just makes us humans lives harder to be around your kind.”

What?!

“What the hell’s gotten into you?!” you exclaimed. “I thought you were my best friend!”

“Oh?”

They pretended to wrack their brain.

“Oh! Yeah, I was such a great actor in that part. I should get an Oscar. Here’s the tea; I lost a bet and had to be your best friend for those four hellish years. I can’t believe they wanted me to suffer that much.”

Your heart began to crack. It was all....an act?

“You took my high school years away from me, made me miserable. I could’ve won prom royalty, but no one voted for me because I associated myself with your species. I’m glad you’re out of my life now. You’re nothing but a burden and the world would be so much better off without you. Why not do us that favor?”

Your heart shattered. You were so plagued with shock that you didn’t notice them push you to the ground and spit on you before walking away with a satisfied chuckle. For the next few minutes, you couldn’t say or do anything. You were just frozen to the spot, their words bouncing around your head.

Finally you were able to feel both the physical and emotional pain. Pursing your lips, you got up, kept your head down, and quickly left the bookstore, trying not to let the tears fall.

===============================================

In the elevator, heading up to your floor, you can barely form a new thought. All you can think of is that hurtful interaction. 

Burden, your kind, your species, disease....

It all hurt. 

And the worst part is that you can’t help but think that they’re right.

But your thoughts are jolted by the elevator bell. As usual you find the Avengers hanging out in the lounge. Nat and Clint are chatting with Wanda. Tony and Peter are working on homework. You can barely see what the others are doing. 

Almost instantly, Wanda’s eye falls on you. She has a smile on her face, but it falls when she sees you, as she instantly knows that something is wrong. 

“(Y/N)!” she whispers worried.

She rushes over and gives you a gentle hug, but you practically squeeze the life out of her. The other Avengers also come to your aid. 

“What happened?” Wanda asks you.

You gulp as she and Nat lead you to the couch.

“I....” you begin as you sit down. “I was out shopping....and I ran into my best friend from high school....”

You tell them the entire interaction. Shocked looks are nearly all around by the end.

“That’s seriously messed up,” Nat says in a mix of disgust and anger.

The others nod in agreement, except for Wanda. Instead she begins to tear up. 

“My sweet angel,” she weeps softly as she hugs you closer and pets your head. “Oh, my sweet, sweet angel. None of what they said is true, not one bit of it. You’re an absolute joy to have around and you’re one of the kindest souls I’ve ever met. You bring so much to the Avengers and to our lives. Autism is not a disease. It’s a part of who you are, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

“Wanda’s right,” Peter nods. “You’re wonderful, (y/n). You’re one of the best friends I could ever ask for.”

“And you bring a lot of new perspectives,” Nat adds. “You came into our lives when we needed you the most, especially Wanda.”

They all take turns giving you words of comfort and encouragement as well as letting you cry. Wanda stays the closest to you, to no one’s surprise, hugging you tightly. Her embrace is exactly what you need right now; so warm and loving. 

Tony, though not the most emotional person, does feel sympathetic and even angered at the person who said that to you; even though you’re on the opposite side of the Accords, he decides to get your favorite food for dinner. It’s not the greatest gesture of sympathy, but it’s definitely something. After that, you take a nice, warm shower and get into some fresh, soft pajamas. Wanda’s waiting for you in your bedroom, and surprises you with some soft socks that match your pajamas.

“I removed the fabric tags too,” she tells you.

Your heart melts a bit more for her. How someone as kind, attentive, and loving as her could ever be considered a terrible person is beyond you. You let her put them on your feet and they feel amazing. You wriggle your toes in them, smiling. 

“You like them?” she asks you.

“I love them,” you giggle before turning to Wanda. “And I love you.”

She smiles and gives you a kiss on the forehead.

“I love you too, my angel.”

The two of you spend the rest of the night together, cuddling up close with one another, watching sitcoms, singing quietly. You doze off in her arms.....

But that doesn’t mean it’s over.....

==============================================

You’re not someone who easily forgets how things make you feel, and what that person said still makes you feel like shit. Now whenever you go out, you’re worried that you’re going to run into them. You keep your guard up and walk as quickly as you can. Every outing feels like a fight for survival, but you try to stay strong so that you don’t bother the others. You try to keep a smile on your face. You need to be strong.....

.....But even the strong reach their limits.

It’s a little after you found out they became catatonic. You’re at a coffee shop, nearly empty, when someone else walks in. It’s a friend of that person. You keep your head low as they place their order; four cups of black coffee, extra hot. Your anxiety is increasing, but you don’t want this person to think you’re weak. You keep your back to them, hearing the door open again. 

The other person is called for their order. Maybe you can finally get out of here.

The next thing you know, you feel something steaming hot being poured down the back of your shirt, on your head, thrown in your face, (which you luckily cover most of with your arms) and splattered on your arms and legs. Standing up, you cry out in pain as you whirl around to see 4 people from high school, among them the friend of your former best friend.

“It’s your fault my best friend can’t function, you retard!” the friend snaps as they push you around roughly.

“No one wants you on this planet,” spits another.

“You’re nothing but a parasite!”

“You just weigh people down!”

“You’re an embarrassment to society!”

“Why don’t you just end this?”

“It’ll be better that way!”

“Your birth was a mistake!”

By this time, you’re hardly a thread’s width away from a meltdown and you look at the cashier for help, but nothing. You try to take out your phone to call for help, but you end up slipping on the coffee, falling to the ground hard and in an odd position, hearing a crack. Pain surges through your body as you look at your arms; burn marks are beginning to form.

After they kick at you for a bit and spit on you, they leave. You look up at the cashier. 

“Why....didn’t you help?” you whimper with a whistle in your voice.

No answer. 

They don’t help you up either. Crawling to the door, you use a nearby booth to bring yourself back up to your feet. Suddenly you feel an intense surge of pain in your left leg, and not just from the burns. You look to see that it’s swollen and turning reddish-purple. You reach into your coat and get out your phone only to discover that it’s dead. Wanda’s going to be worried sick....you hate making her worry, and she’s been worried sick these last few weeks to the point where it’s taking a toll on her; so on the way back, you decide to take one worry out of her life for good.

======================

It’s dark when you get back to the compound. And lucky for you, the elevator is closed for repairs. You limp up the stairs, finally reaching the compound. As quiet as a dust mite, you open the door, biting down on your lips to keep yourself from crying out in pain; unfortunately, your lips took some burn damage as well. Limping to the bathroom, you shut and lock the door. You search the medicine cabinet and find some pills.

“This should do the trick,” you whisper.

You try to quietly position yourself on the floor so that you won’t hit your head. You want to be able to pass as peacefully as possible. But something gives in your left leg and you fall, letting out a loud cry of agony. Realizing your mistake, you quickly fiddle with the lid of the bottle as you hear footsteps rush in. You finally get the lid open and begin to pour out the whole bottle into your hand, hoping to get it in in time--

Click!

The lock turns scarlet, clicks, and the door swings opens. 

“(Y/N)!”

A terrified Wanda immediately snatches the pills and bottle from you with her powers. She makes them disappear before heading to your side, tears already flowing from her eyes.

“My sweet angel.....” she squeaks as she kneels in front of you gently taking ahold of your hands. “I didn’t realize you were feeling this terrible. I’m so sorry things have reached this point.”

You look away guiltily. 

“No, I’m sorry....it’s my fault. I never said....anything. You....you’ve been so stressed these past few weeks....all of you. I didn’t want to make it worse on you, so....I just kept quiet.”

Wanda shakes her head.

“You have nothing to apologize for, (y/n). It can be scary, but there’s no shame in reaching out. We all need help sometimes.”

Other footsteps rush in.

“What happened?” Nat asks. “Did (y/n)---?”

“Almost,” Wanda gulps. “We need to get them to the emergency room.”

“I’m fine,” you lie.

“Are you fine?” Wanda asks.

You realize that it’s pointless to lie, and you shake your head.

“No, I’m not....”

“Then we need to take you to the emergency room.....”

That’s when she sees the burns and leg.

“Especially to treat these.....what happened?”

As they carry you to the car, you tell them about the run-in at the coffee shop, them pouring the hot coffee on you, how they were telling you all of these things, how the cashier did nothing to help, how you heard that crack. Both of them are disgusted and horrified at those monsters.

“I don’t care what they say,” Nat tells you as they get you inside. “I’m glad that you’re here.”

“I am too,” Wanda agrees as she gets in the front seat. “We’re here for you.”

“But.....my autism.....”

Wanda gently takes ahold of your fingers, careful to avoid the burns.

“My angel.....I can only imagine how isolating it feels to be in a world that’s not made for you, but your autism is part of who you are. It’s what makes you unique. If the world refuses to accommodate for people like you on their own, we’ll help them to see that they need to, and we’ll help advocate with you.”

Nat nods as she starts the car up and the three of you head for the ER.

“I....I feel selfish worrying you like this and even attempting....I just thought....you’ve been so stressed and I thought it’d be better to take one worry out of your life.”

“You have nothing to feel selfish about,” Wanda assures you. “What you did wasn’t selfish. You’re in pain, and wanting to do something to stop that pain isn’t selfish. But there are better ways to deal with the pain, and I want to help you with those. (Y/N), I can say with 100% certainty that I’m glad to have you in my life, through the good and the bad.”

Tears flow down your face as the three of you silently drive to the ER.

=============================================

It takes several hours for you to be treated, along with a few more hours of consultation for your mental health. Some of the burns are treated through surgery, so you have to stay for a little over a week to make sure you recover and stabilize. Your leg is put in a cast, and Wanda comes to visit you everyday. You feel much better with her and Nat.

A psychologist comes in to discuss a safety plan with you. You decided to ask Wanda if she’d come and discuss it with them. She said yes and Nat also decided to help. You all work out what works in terms of coping mechanisms, people you can talk to, calming techniques, etc,. The psychologist also recommends regular counseling. Wanda asks if there are any remote options for counseling, as it’s going to be difficult for you to get there with your leg, (Also, she’s a little worried that the therapist might try to take you away from her, but she does show concern for your leg) and to her relief, there is. 

You’re discharged after about a week, but you’re not to be left alone for a few days to another week or two, just to be sure. Well, it’s more of Wanda’s recommendation than psychologist’s orders, but the psychologist also thinks that that could be a good idea. You’re not really complaining; it’s more time to spend with Wanda. And she’s certainly not complaining either.

For that time, especially, she makes sure you know that you’re loved, wanted, valued. She practically dotes on you; as if she hadn’t been doting on you before, she’s especially pampering you now. The other Avengers also get the 411, and decide to help. If you need pain or sleep medications, one of them brings the proper dose to you. They take turns spending time with you and getting to know you more. If they need to go out on a mission, Wanda volunteers to stay with you, but if she’s absolutely needed there, she entrusts your care to Vision, a robot who’s exceptionally caring. You and Wanda regularly discuss possibly adding him to the relationship, but you’re not sure if she’s being serious or not. 

On one night, Wanda’s caring for you. After applying the prescribed cream on your burns, she helps you find an oversized t-shirt to wear as PJs. 

“This one’s softer than the others,” you note.

“I went looking for a shirt with a softer material than normal,” she tells you as she prepares a small dose of melatonin for you, one that you’ve been taking to combat the nightmares of those events in the hospital. “I know how much it tends to make you feel discomforted if there is one. I also made sure it was a tagless shirt.”

You smile and sigh.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve an angel like you, Wanda,” you tell her.

Hearing this she smiles and blushes.

“If anyone’s the angel, it’s you,” she says as she gives you the melatonin. “You’ve been there for me even when I’m at my absolute worst.”

“So have you.”

You take the melatonin before Wanda brings you your toothbrush and toothpaste. You brush thoroughly before spitting it into a cup that Wanda disposes of. 

“You know, I could go to the bathroom and do this myself,” you tell her kindly.

“I know,” she sighs. “I’m just worried, my angel.”

“What if I wash my face tonight with the door open?” you suggest.

Wanda gives this a little thought and nods. 

“I can work with that.”

Using your crutches, you walk to the bathroom where you sit on a stool in front of the sink. You wash and dry your face before heading to the bed with Wanda helping you get tucked in.

“You’re seriously an angel,” you tell her. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone outside of my family that’s been as concerned about my well-being as you.”

“And you’re too sweet,” she smiles again as she finishes getting ready for bed herself. “If anyone’s the undeserving, I don’t deserve you.”

“No, it’s the other way around,” you say.

“No, I’m certain I’m right.”

You giggle.

“Wanda, if we try to prove one right over the other, we’ll be going at this all night.”

She smiles as she goes over to the other side of the bed. 

“Well, I know you’re an angel,” she tells you as she gets under the covers. “You came to me in a dark time, and you shone a beam of sunlight through the shadow.”

The two of you look at each other as the fairy lights hang above you. Of course you’re looking at the bridge of her nose, but you can’t help but glance up at her eyes a few times; one time they catch you, and they are stunning. They’re like emeralds to you; vivid, entrancing, mystical. Just a single glance, and you know there’s so much to know about, so much to discover, and you become lost in them. 

“I’m so proud of you, (y/n).”

Wanda’s gentle voice echoes against your eardrums and dances around your mind, soothing you into drifting even more. But then she boops you on the nose, making it twitch like a bunny’s and snapping you out of your trance.

“Huh?” you ask, looking lost.

Wanda giggles.

“You are too cute,” she tells you. “I was saying that I’m so proud of you for pushing through all of this. It’s not the easiest thing to do, and.....well.....I’m glad you’re still alive, my sweet little sunbeam.”

You blush upon hearing this and turn away, but Wanda gently redirects your face forward.

“There’s no need to hide, my angel. I want to see your lovely face.”

At that moment, you begin to feel drowsy and bring yourself closer to her.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you enough, Wanda,” you sigh.

She brings you in closer and you melt into her embrace.

“Being with you, and you being safe and happy and alive.....that’s the only thank you I need.”

Leaning in, she kisses you gently on your forehead and you shyly return one on her cheek. 

“Goodnight, my angel,” she tells you as she brushes a strand of hair out of your way.

“Wait,” you say as she turns to switch the lights off. “Will....will you sing me those lullabies again? Please?”

“Of course,” she smiles. 

Turning the lights off, she returns to embrace you and softly sings the Sokovian lullabies her parents used to sing to her. As you drift off to sleep, you don’t know what’s going on in her mind. What’s going on with her mind? Her master plan, of course. Tonight’s the night she will finish what she started. Those monsters at the coffee shop messed with the wrong person. For the past few nights, she’s been paying them visits, doing the same things she did with your former best friend, and sending subconscious suggestions for them to gather in one place, thinking they’d be safer together. And now they have.

Tonight she’s going to make sure their minds are gone for good, but not before making them feel the pain and agony she imagines you felt. Her anger with them is in full throttle, so it’s going to be even worse for them. Telekinesis, fear projection, hypnosis, inducing extreme fear, she’ll do whatever she has to. Wanda will not leave until they’re nothing more than hollow husks, shadows of their former selves. With how they’d been acting on those nights, and how much Wanda has done so far, it won’t take too long. 

Because no one-and she means no one-gets away with hurting her precious angel.......ever.

[quaranmine]

New World, New Faces

When the hermits moved to their new world, they were excited to welcome two new members. But maybe one is an old friend instead . . .

Grian hasn't seen Pearl since Evo. It's a shock.

No romantic relationships or content warnings. Mainly emotional hurt/comfort, but probably more emphasis on comfort. Hermits: Grian, Pearl, and Mumbo primarily with a little bit of Scar and Xisuma as well. Reblogs appreciated and AO3 link in reblog!

Words: 3893

◑ ━━━━━ ▣ ━━━━━ ◐

These days, Grian was pleased to say that the Watcher’s didn’t occupy his mind nearly as often as they used to. Except on certain late nights where he lay in bed and thought of before, his time was mostly spent having fun--scheming, pranking, building, planning, mining, laughing with friends. It wasn’t something he could forget, but the hermits had become his new home, and as years passed the edges of those memories had dulled a bit.

The other times where the Watchers occupied his mind were update days. Since joining hermitcraft, Grian had gone through several updates with the rest of the server. Sometimes they moved to a new world, and sometimes they stayed in their old one. No portals of bedrock ever appeared, but Grian always thought of them just the same. It always felt like maybe, just maybe, one day he’d turn around and see their signature portals once again.

Watchers didn’t always leave portals to update worlds. Grian hadn’t known that until he’d been put to work as a Watcher himself. Oh, the Watchers were still in charge of updating worlds, but they often did it more subtly, without grand towers and quests for portals. It’s hard to retain status as a myth when everyone knows your calling card, afterall. Admins always knew when it was time to update. Grian hadn't, back on Evo, because he’s always been told.

It turned out Evo had been different, and Grian didn’t know how to feel about that. Evo wasn’t the only world to receive special attention from the Watchers, but it was one of their favorites. Why them, though? Why did the Watchers keep such a close eye on their world in particular? Why were they left towers and clues and prizes and punishments, when other servers were mostly left alone?

Why did they kill everyone and kidnap Grian?

◑ ━━━━━ ▣ ━━━━━ ◐

Grian stood in a group with the other hermits, eagerly waiting for the move to the new world. He bounced a little in anticipation. He was excited for the new update--he knew very little about its contents, but it seemed like there would be some new building blocks to play with, according to Xisuma.

He already had plans for the new world--new bases and new shenanigans. Grian was excited to build close to his friends. Xisuma had informed them that another update would come in a few months, and for the hermits to stick close in the time being so that new land would be freed up for the coming update. Grian had already known about the second update for a while, as all Watchers do, but he let Xisuma handle all of this as admin. Those days were behind him, now, and there was no reason to start exercising Watcher powers in a world that was carrying on just fine on its own.

“Is everyone ready?” Xisuma shouted over the chatter, trying to do a headcount. “Hey!” he shouted, trying to get everyone’s attention. Slowly, the chatter quieted.

“Looks like it,” said Iskall.

“Good,” Xisuma said. “Now, before we go, I wanted to remind you that we have two new people joining us this time. I’ve already made arrangements with them prior so they’re gonna be waitin’ for us when we go through.” He grinned. “Be on your best behavior for me, alright?”

“I’m always on my best behavior,” Keralis replied, and Xisuma rolled his eyes fondly.

Grian smiled, remembering his welcome to hermitcraft a few years ago. Unlike this time, nobody had been expecting him. Grian hadn’t been invited like these two new hermits had been, he had just been there when the hermits arrived on their new world. None of the other hermits knew quite why he was there, but they’d all accepted him graciously nonetheless.

Grian liked that memory. The truth is, he’d fled the Watchers and picked an uninhabited world at random, not realizing it had already been reserved by Xisuma. That was a failure on his part as a Watcher, because he was supposed to know about stuff like that. But he had been too busy running to worry about it and besides, there was nobody on hermitcraft to punish him.

The hermits had welcomed him with kindness and made him part of their family. Now he’d gladly do the same for these new soon-to-be hermits.

“Okay . . .” Xisuma said, typing something into his admin panel. “I’m just setting up the portal now.”

They were all gathered in the shopping district, right in front of the Town Hall. Grian took his chance to take one last glance around at the world. The diamonds in the trees glittered in the morning light, sending little reflective shards of light scattered on the ground. Moving worlds was always bittersweet, because it meant parting with the things he’d worked hard on and the places he’d made memories at. But it was also one of his favorite things to do, because it gave everyone a blank slate to work with, sparking endless new creativity.

“I wish I could take some of those with me,” chuckled Scar, as he walked up next to where Grian was standing. He pointed at the diamonds.

“Well of course you want them, Mr Mayor!”

“Uh-uh,” Scar said. “I’m not the Mayor anymore! This is a new world.”

“Well, I guess we’ll have to see what we get up to in the next one, huh?” Grian asked. “Do you have any plans?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” Scar teased.

“I guess I will.”

“Do you have any plans?”

“I don’t know,” said Grian. He thought for a moment. “I might make a cave base. I guess I’m waiting to see what’s out there for inspiration before I start.”

“Well, I look forward to seeing it,” Scar replied. “Oh! It looks like Xisuma is ready.”

Grian looked up, to see X opening a portal. It wasn’t a nether portal, nor was it like an End portal. It wasn’t a Watcher portal either, but an Admin one. Grian had come to realize that Watchers supplied Admins with the means to move into updates on their own when they wanted to. The bedrock portals and scavenger hunts were reserved for their favorite worlds--their toys.

Sometimes the Watchers liked to flex their powers, but the universe is not kept running smoothly if all your time is spent flexing. Grian brushed away the thought, choosing to focus on his friends in front of him instead.

One by one, the hermits stepped through the portal, which swirled light blue and hovered just slightly off the ground. Grian hung back, wanting to be one of the last ones through. He wanted to make sure everyone made it through alright, but Xisuma had to be the very last person, since he needed to close the portal. When it was finally his turn, he gave Xisuma a smile and walked forward.

Grian stepped through, into the bright sunlight of a village, and was surrounded by the voices of his friends.

◑ ━━━━━ ▣ ━━━━━ ◐

Spawn was a village in a grassland, next to a swamp and overlooking the ocean. It looked a little plain, but the hermits hadn’t left their mark on the world yet. Behind Grian, Xisuma stepped out into the new world and the portal vanished behind him.

Everybody was crowded around a ditch chattering, apparently exchanging greetings with the two new hermits that stood inside it. Grian held back for a moment, taking it in and basking in the sounds of his friends’ voices. Finally, he wasn’t the new one anymore--a few people had rejoined the server in the last world, but they’d all been old friends, not new ones. That had left him being the most recent addition, not that anything felt like it was recent anymore.

Grian was already thinking of ways to prank the new hermits and draw them into the life of the server.

“Alright Mumbo!” Xisuma said. Grian grinned. Mumbo was supposed to introduce them. Mumbo, of course, didn’t know this, because where’s the fun in that?

“Oh-oh me?”

“It’s go time!” Cleo said.

“This is it!” said Xisuma.

“I’ve clearly very obviously been put up to this,” Mumbo started. “And because everyone thought it’d be much funnier to have me bumble through it without really knowing what I’m talking about, and that is definitely going to be the case!”

The hermits chuckled. Grian walked around the back of the group to try to catch a glimpse of the new people below.

“We do have two new hermits,” Mumbo said, “down in this crevice.”

Grian caught a glimpse of red and brown hair.

“GeminiTay-”

Grian’s world stopped and he felt his breath catch in his throat. She had her back to him, but he’d recognize her anywhere. Her brown hair spilled out from behind a black hoodie.

But she’s dead.

Was this some sort of cruel trick from the universe?

“-and PearlescentMoon.” The rest of the hermits cheered at the announcement, giving the new members a warm welcome. Grian said nothing, his mind spinning a mile a minute.

There was no way it was actually her. The Watchers . . . the Watchers had killed her, and every other Evolutionist. Grian didn’t know why. He would never know why, because with the Watchers it was always “you can’t possibly understand.”And Grian couldn’t. When Grian had finally escaped them, he tried to go back to Evo. It was a foolish attempt, one that would certainly have endangered the lives of anyone there, but nobody had been left there and the buildings were all destroyed and overgrown with vines and Grian had been forced to conclude the heavy truth that all of his old friends were gone.

He didn’t remember what he did after that. He just ran.

Before he could stop himself, the words came tumbling out of his mouth. “Pearl? Is that really you?”

She turned, hearing her name and--it was. It was her. Her hair had blonde highlights around the bangs now, but he’d recognize her anywhere, like her face and the faces of all the other Evolutionists were seared into his brain.

“. . . Grian?”

Grian just stared.

The other hermits had caught onto their mini debacle, and were watching them. “Grian, do you know her?” Mumbo asked.

“Y-yeah, I do,” he stammered.

“Grian?” Pearl shouted, and in an instant had scrambled up the ditch. She stopped in front of him, face pale and eyes wide, like she’d seen a ghost. Maybe he was a ghost, maybe he’d died the day they took him from Evo.

“Pearl,” he whispered.

Suddenly she threw her arms around Grian in a hug and squeezed. “Oh, it’s been so long,” she said, voice muffled.

Grian froze, but slowly reciprocated the hug. He felt numb and like he wanted to cry and scream at the same time, hands shaking, but Pearl’s warm embrace drew him back down to reality.

Pearl pulled away, blinked tears from her eyes and met Grian’s stare. Then, her gaze drifted further down, landing on his folded wings that peaked out just above his shoulders. Tentatively, she reached out to stroke a feather. “What happened to you?” she asked softly.

“I thought you were dead,” Grian said by way of answer.

“Well, I’m not,” Pearl said, and for a moment Grian almost didn’t believe her, and grabbed her wrist tightly, just to see if it was real. Pearl let him. “They took you,” she said.

Grian just looked at the ground, uncomfortably aware of how many people were watching him. Ironic, almost--he didn’t want them watching him so that they wouldn’t know about the Watchers. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the hermits. He did. He’d trust them all with his life a thousand times. He just . . . didn’t want to explain. The hermits were a good bunch. The unspoken rule was that you didn’t ask about anyone’s past unless they spoke first, and Grian knew they’d abide by that for him as well. But he could do without the turned heads.

“Alright everyone!” Xisuma shouted suddenly, startling Grian. “Let’s go, let’s get to work, this season won’t start itself!” Slowly, the hermits began to disperse, branching off into groups. “How’re ya gonna start the season if you don't chop down a tree? I’ll get to work protecting these villagers.”

Xisuma threw a glance over to them, and Grian mouthed a thank you. Xisuma just nodded, and left them alone. Grian was overwhelmed with relief at the admin’s gesture.

He turned back to Pearl.

“I-I can’t believe you’re actually here,”Grian said. He smiled and the moment he met her gaze, his eyes began to blur with tears.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” she cried. “When we got back from fighting the enderdragon you . . . you were just gone. They left a note for us . . . said it was necessary for you to be taken. All in rhyme, of course.”

“Of course it was in rhyme . . .'' Grian muttered, suddenly very angry. All the Watchers and their unknowable ways, always distilled down to some pithy saying. A life-changing event relayed to his friends in another stupid little poem. He’d written a few himself and despised it.

“I didn’t think I was ever going to see you again. Do you . . . do you mind if I ask what happened?” Pearl asked. “I’m just happy to see you here but I-”

“No, it’s alright,” Grian said with a sigh. “They took me after I fought the enderdragon, and said I was going to be one of them. I didn’t want to go but-well what could I do? So I went with them, and they promised to let me hang around the server. They lied to me, they never let me Watch Evo.” Grian paused, and felt the cool trail of a tear dripping down his cheek. “They later told me you were all dead.”

“Oh, Grian,” Pearl said, and pulled him into another hug, and that was it for him. He began to sob.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out. “It’s just a lot-”

“I know, I know,” she whispered.

“They-they . . . I didn’t enjoy it there. So I, I ran away. I tried to visit Evo but--there was nobody there. I figured they told the truth then, that you really were dead. I ran and found the hermits and I’ve been living with them every since, and oh they’re so wonderful but I could never forget-”

“It’s okay.” Pearl comforted. “I know, I know. We came home after finding the dragon and our place was ransacked, and we were given instructions to leave. And . . . eventually after we left, the group disbanded and we went our separate ways. But, we’re all alive.”

“Really?” Grian asked.

“Yes.”

“Everyone?”

“Yes.”

“Can I- can I see them?” he whispered. It felt forbidden.

“Of course!” Pearl exclaimed. “I’ve kept in touch with everyone, I’m sure Xisuma could help you visit if you asked.”

“Xisuma . . .” Grian thought aloud. “I haven’t told him,” Grian admitted. The admin certainly knew something was up with Grian, because players didn’t normally randomly appear in worlds they weren’t supposed to, but he’d welcomed Grian with open arms to the server and never asked a single question.

“I’m sure he would understand.”

“He would, but Pearl, I don’t want to put anyone in danger! I’m not supposed to be here!” Grian hissed.

“So then don’t tell him everything. Just say you want to visit some people. He’ll understand, I know he will,” she replied. Grian pondered it for a moment. She was right--he could just ask to visit someone. Other hermits did it all the time. Maybe--maybe a few server hops wouldn’t cause a problem. Maybe this was something within his reach, after all this time. The thought exhilarated him.

“But please,” Pearl added. “Please tell someone else, not just me. How long have you been hiding?”

Too long.

Grian didn’t answer, and the two of them stood there and listened to the crash of the waves on the nearby shoreline. The air was hot and salty, and in the distance he could hear Xisuma opening and closing doors in the village.

He didn’t know what he felt, it was like too many emotions had happened in too short of a period of time and left him burned out like a forest after a wildfire. His hands had stopped trembling, but he felt deeply tired.

Happy. You feel happy.

Grian’s communicator chimed from within his pocket. He withdrew it.

GoodTimeWithScar > Grian: are you okay

Grian smiled, and typed a response.

Grian > GoodTimeWithScar: yes

“Who was that?” Pearl asked.

“Scar. He wanted to know if I was okay.”

“Are you?”

Grian met her eyes. “I am now.” It was close enough to the truth. Grian shifted his weight between his feet, suddenly restless and tired from trying to process all this new information. “Speaking of other hermits, we should get going, yeah? We can’t let them get all the resources without us!”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she chuckled. The hermits had already spread out seeking resources, but not too far yet; Grian and Pearl could still see several of them talking to each other across the field.

“Pearl, before you go--” Grian started, looking serious. “Build next to me, alright? I...I want you to be around.”

“I promise,” she replied.

◑ ━━━━━ ▣ ━━━━━ ◐

“Why are you following me?” Grian knew why, but he wanted Mumbo to bring it up. He was torn--on one hand, he truly appreciated his friend’s concern. It was nice that others were looking out for him, a warm reminder of what their little community stood for. On the other hand . . . he’d really have just appreciated being left alone.

“You look like you have a purpose!” Mumbo exclaimed instead.

Huh.

Grian shook his head. “I’m just heading north,” he replied, shielding his eyes and looking up to see the position of the sun.

“I was just like, ‘Man, it looks like he knows where he’s going,’” Mumbo continued and Grian laughed.

They walked to the edge of the swamp, and began to cut down the trees. Starter tools were a necessity in a new world, and they had no stone.

“Ugh, I have to take down this whole tree, and then I have to replant it,” complained Mumbo.

“Wait-why have you got to replant it?” asked Grian incredulously, while getting wood for himself and not replanting the tree.

“Well I-I can’t just deforest things!”

This is going to be SO much fun to tease Mumbo with.

“Whatever you say, tree boy.”

They continued to work, getting wood, and then venturing into a shallow cave to get stone. The whole time their coms kept buzzing, buzzing, buzzing with combat death messages. Just another day in the hermitcraft world, thought Grian. Have they declared a spontaneous war up there? Either way, Pearl and Gem were getting the full introduction today, he thought with a chuckle.

Exiting the cave, they spotted a shipwreck not too far away, and decided to explore it. Grian pulled out a soggy buried treasure map, and they decided to go after it in a boat. Grian wanted to relax in the boat, to just breathe in the sea spray and try to calm his still-racing thoughts, but unfortunately Mumbo was the driver, and he was not a very good driver if you asked Grian. Grian had been tasked with navigation, which was a difficult thing when the driver couldn’t see the map you were describing.

The loot was good, and they divided it between themselves and then struck onward in the boat, this time with Grian commandeering the vessel. They looped back around to the shipwreck only to find a group of hermits that were a little too late to the prize. Pearl, Ren, and Doc were gathered around the boat looking a bit disappointed.

Mumbo and Grian decided to taunt them.

“Who got the loot?” shouted Ren.

“We got the loot!” Grian shouted back.

“Oh it was you guys,” said Pearl. Grian stuck his tongue out at her and cackled.

They looped back around to show off the Heart of the Sea, but Mumbo dropped their only diamond by accident and that was when Grian decided to steer the boat away before they lost any more valuables.

“I can’t believe you dropped the diamond,” Grian sighed.

“I was flexing too hard, I’m sorry!” cried Mumbo.

It was too comical, and Grian couldn’t be mad at his friend. They rowed on, closely following the coastline. After a few minutes, however, Mumbo asked a question.

“The new hermit, who we just saw with Doc and Ren--Pearl--is it. . . is it okay if I ask how you know her?” Mumbo spoke gently, knowing he was treading around a potentially sensitive topic. Grian knew the topic would have come up eventually, after he’d basically had a breakdown in public when he saw her.

Grian stopped the boat, and looked into the water, not at Mumbo’s face. “Yeah, I figured you’d ask. We used to be on a world together. The . . . the world I was at before I came here, actually.” It wasn’t the full truth, since he’d been to many worlds as a Watcher and had lived on the Watchers’ world for a while. But Evo had been his last home.

“Oh,” said Mumbo.

“We were friends,” continued Grian. “We were close. But I was told she was dead. Clearly, though,” he just simply gestured instead of finishing the sentence.

“Clearly she’s not dead,” Mumbo finished. “I see. Who told you she was dead?”

“Someone who didn’t have my best interests at heart.” Grian had never fully told his friend about what had happened before he joined hermitcraft, but the other man knew that it was a difficult past and had comforted him on more than one occasion--mostly after he’d first joined and the pain was still fresh. It had dulled with time and Grian had become more and more adjusted to his new life.

Seeing Pearl again was a miracle, but it sure sharpened the pain.

Grian rested his elbows on the side of the boat and pressed the heels of his palm into his eyes. “It wasn’t just her, either, they told me everyone on the server was dead. And-they’re all alive. All of them. It’s fantastic news, brilliant news, I’m just-”

“Thinking of the people who didn’t have your best interests at heart?”

“Yeah.”

Mumbo laid a hand on Grian’s shoulder. “I don’t know who they are,” he began, “but I know they’re not here now. You have us now, and you have Pearl here too. That all is in the past.”

Grian stared out over the water, watching as the sunlight sparkled and danced over the waves. “You’re a good friend, you know that right?”

“Well, I do try to be,” Mumbo chuckled. “Now-I think we should probably go pick up Scar over there, I think the poor man is going to drown!”

“Oh no!” Grian said, and scrambled for the oars, and then they were off.

◑ ━━━━━ ▣ ━━━━━ ◐

When Grian, Impulse, Scar, and Mumbo created the Boatem Pole, Pearl was there to join them.

When Grian woke up in his makeshift camp the next morning, he was happy to see Pearl setting up her own starter base on the other side of the Boatem Pole.

When Grian showed up at Xisuma’s base two days later, he asked for permission to visit other servers.

[douxie-casperan]

Rise of the Titans and the assassination Hisirdoux Casperan’s character development

I’ve been ranting so much since Wednesday morning that I finally condensed by thoughts of WHY this one subject keeps setting me off namely the utterly diabolical way they handled Douxie and Archie’s relationship in Rise of the Titans and how it wasn’t just enough to hit him with the nerf bat.

Please note I’m at the point where I literally cannot tell the difference between Aaron headcanons, Teny headcanons and my own they are all mixed together in the blender that does funky things. I also apologise for typo/weird wording it’s half 1 in the morning and I’d rather sleep than edit.

~

If asked to sum up Hisirdoux Casperan there are certainly several things that come to mind:

Sees the value in people as a whole and will find do anything if there is a chance of help someone out

Prefers tactics that disable/banish rather than kill an enemy yet willing and able to pull the trigger if circumstances become forced

While not academically inclined he is very capable of thinking on his feet and outside the box calling back to his time on the streets where a split-second decision making is the difference between being caught and not

Terrible at planning he’ll be in there figuring it out as he goes along which is what makes the previous point so vital to literally how he goes through life

A natural charmer that would let him talk his way out of trouble 9/10 providing a perfect cover for his distrustful nature and reluctance to be touched by random people

Very down to earth, humble and never one to brag unless outright sassing someone

Will bang out some hot tunes at the drop of a hat, his love of music has never wavered once since he caught the bug despite instrument hopping ironically becoming a jack of all trades much like his magic style

The earliest memories he can recall are him as a young boy lost in the woods where he was for an unknown amount of time before his soon to be familiar finds him amongst the roots covered in dirt and drying tears, there is nothing before that. Unbeknownst to him is the colour of his magic matches the blue of a lost mother’s eyes and the song that haunts his nightmares as much as fire could well be hers though there is no way to be sure. From that moment on Archibald, shortened to Archie, would become his entire world and their friendship only becoming closer during the years they prowled Camelot together trying to keep themselves in one piece until the fateful day Douxie tricks the wrong person leading him straight into the path of the famous wizard Merlin Ambrosius.

It's no real secret that Merlin is a very closed off person who keeps his emotions as well guarded as his secrets, prefers the style of negative reinforcement over positive encouragement and is a very strict perfectionist in his. At this point in his life he can be very easily described as a disaster that is genuinely doing his best with every little mistake held of his head and his future self when brought back to that time period is belittled by Lancelot (Errand boy) and Arthur (Boy) too meaning it’s hardly a wonder his confidence was very fragile revelling in the times where he could do things without being told off for it. With Morgana largely ignoring him too (Though personally I like to think as he got older she’d occasionally take an interest until the blistering arguments with their master started to talk over daily life) a certain disguised dragon would have remained a lifeline and give that physical affection he craved much like being told he’d done well never seemed able to earn.

With Killahead he’d lose that home and family he made leaving just the two of them behind struggling to figure out their place in the world that had abandoned them.

There wouldn’t have been the words for it back then but the way he had been treated prior was outright abusive instilling very bad habits into Douxie yet by irony he was always willing to give people the benefit of the doubt and help those in trouble without thinking earning a reputation as the Shepard of Fire. He refused to become like him seeking to be better, perhaps not as a wizard (Even though he was learning new charms and spells along the way) but certainly as a person. Despite everything he suffers through or witnesses in the intervening years, the loss of friends and kindling of far newer ones he never loses his good heart 

That said is it any wonder that after rightfully sassing Merlin for resurfacing, ignoring his existence despite being in the same town and only visiting him to run a finding errand that all the confidence he’d managed to build completely from scratch after Camelot wavered causing him to fall back solely into trying impressing his old Master who was acting like his humble apprentice must have coasted the past few centuries who himself fell back into old habits of belittling? It’s only when Merlin started to truly listen and acknowledge that this was not the same Moppet he once knew after Excalibur was fixed that their relationship finally started to become more like equals. After the defeat of Janus the changeling that broke into the castle he touched Douxie’s shoulder with a genuine smile and for a second he simply didn’t know what to do because the old man never did this before his brain kicked into gear and realised he’d finally earned that one thing he’d been so desperate for his entire life: That in Merlin’s eyes he could be more than a failure who only caused problems for the closest thing to a father figure he’d ever had, never solved them.

A staff will be earned, history would be set back on trap by banishing Morgana tag teaming with Archie because they know one another inside and out, as promised he’d get the kids back to the present but soon after things would go badly wrong. They’d lose Jim and because of his very nature he’d make a gamble to try and get him back because that life is worth trying for just for in a moment of surprising selflessness Merlin would be sacrificed to save him. The only constant in his life apart from Archie would apologise, openly express pride and how the greatest thing he’d ever done was saving this orphan, call him son for the first and final time before turning into ash in his arms. There would be no time to grieve for things will barrel into the crescendo of Douxie sacrificing his own life to buy everyone time to escape because if they did that everything he’d ever done would be worth it with one last whispered goodbye.

(Zoe sees him fall, so does Archie – His heart would break if he was conscious just like theirs does when his body crumples into the ground)

On the very fringes of the Light Realm he is gifted one more conversation with Merlin in a truly heart-breaking sequence (THANKS TENY) where they can just talk without any fear of consequence or politics and just be completely honest. Douxie is allowed to stand equal to Merlin, to have the hug he’d needed since he was a child and be allowed to simply let go of every pretense and cry his heart out because this can never happen again. He’s allowed to say goodbye to both his master and Morgana who had both shaped so very much of his life but like the painting he’d always remained firmly in the long shadows of until that moment.

When Hisirdoux Casperan finally leaves Wizards if we just accidently deliberately put the shawarma back in along with checking in with Zoe before departure, it is with having learned to live during his wandering years but this is the point of true freedom because he can finally escape into his own light with Archie by his side to keep Nari out of the hands of those that would see the world harmed. It won’t be easy but it feels possible somehow even with the knowledge everything is simply running on borrowed time.

Then Rise of the Titans happens.

At first everything is genuinely fine! No more running, they engineer a solution shut the Order’s magic down to make them a lot less dangerous and potentially at least incapacitate them until they can come up with a longer-term solution but all the best laid plans and all that. Douxie’s quick thinking stops the train from crushing any of the people below and it’s a very him style move to switch places with Nari to stall for time because for some reason the plot disabled Claire from portaling her or any of the threatened people/heroes to safety. He openly sasses the Order despite knowing the consequences will be bad for him because once again he’s managed to trick them, buy time that at the other end isn’t even slightly utilised until he’s forced back into his own body in excruciating pain. Archie immediately mobs him with comfort just as he has done every single time the wizard is distressed or collapsed with exhaustion without thinking because that is what their bond is like, incredibly close and far more than the Soul Bond mark that connects them together. They’re very alike in that regard, you have to earn the right to touch while equally knowing exactly what form the other needs the most in that precise moment in a way very few others could.

Bar the moment of figuring out that an illusion is in place to hide where the Order is opening the Genesis Seals and the brief insistence on reconnecting with Nari somehow Douxie manages to forget everything that makes him who he is after this point choosing to stand in the background being very no thoughts head empty or can only use the most basic spells of his youthful days not the seasoned master wizard he should be. Nomura is treated like an innocent slip rather than an outright death he did absolutely nothing to prevent (Not to mention the stupid daytime thing) nor seems to care particularly about afterwards yet with Nari’s he’s allowed to openly grieve in a gorgeously animated visual showing how he’d failed to keep her safe despite everything. He did nothing to help here either mind despite allowing himself to be tortured in the same piece of media to keep her safe, just watched another loss happen right in front of his eyes in his conga long line of them.

Then there’s Archie, oh god then there was Archie.

The dragon who even here he’d been shown to have an incredibly close bond with him decides you know what sod that tell him goodbye I’m going to make a joke about having a kingdom now dad and me are trapped in here forever. Douxie on his part looked sad for all of three seconds saying that he hoped he’s happy like it's a pet that wandered out into the world one day and never came back instead of a lifelong companion that has been there for as long as he can remember. He was now completely alone in the world since Zoe was also written out entirely and because every bit of his background had been forgotten about it somehow meant nothing. This wasn’t “I know you miss him, I know you need to grieve but you are running out of time” moment like things had been with Charlie, this was “cool shapeshifting dragon cat is now stuck in a plot hole that’s a shame” with zero pay off or any of the genuine reaction that should have been there or hell even trying to Ohana him back that very second because it never should have happened in the first place. Then even this wasn’t enough somehow, they managed to de-power Douxie even further into uselessness bar the (Admittedly nifty!) sticky feet stunt, the one who fought Skrael and Bellroc to a stalemate was shunted aside with barely a thought and his head would somehow get even emptier.

The one person who knew the danger of time magic the most stood by and said nothing.

The one person who would suffer the most by a reset because the lynchpin to his issues would be asleep if you got it wrong and should have drilled it into Jim’s head the best time to aim for stood by and said nothing.

The one person who had just suffered the loss of his familiar, best friend and only family along with the almost sister like Nari stood by and said nothing.

Then to add further insult to injury the caption when Douxie and Archie is shown says Some go their entire lives living an existence of quiet desperation because every drop of his character growth, his ability to finally start addressing his trauma instilled back in the 12th century, the staff he longed for was instead openly mocked by going “Aww he got his cat friend back how nice!” Everything he’d rightfully earned and had now would be unable to progress until certain criteria are met because it hinges entirely on the Trollhunter going to Merlin’s tomb and there’s only so much your support network of two (One if she’s written out) can do, the root of the majority of his issues all stem from one man.

And this folks is why I’ve been going on multiple rants about Douxie in particular, everyone was hit with the out of character bat to some degree in this film but when they came for him they didn’t just stop after they took his legs out because they wanted him to suffer from something he’s never had any control over to begin with all over again. Abuse survivors deserve better, these characters deserve better and we as viewers deserve far far better writing than we were forced to endure.

[yetanothergreyjedi]

What We Might've Been: Part 2

Part 1 Part 1.5

Part 3

Inspired by @liminalhollow 's Spork AU

For @dargeon-lissa @dp-marvel94 @aethtalon

...

“I- Uh- I’m not you- I-“ Danny racked his brain for an explanation that wouldn’t immediately get him killed. He'd entered the ghost's haunt. How had his room become a ghosts haunt?! But the thing didn't attack, didn't possess him, or use some mind altering power. It only tipped its head and watched him flounder for words. It seemed to notice it’s disguise slipping. The light in its eyes faded, leaving behind a dead grey-blue.

It sighed, "Did Vlad do this?"

"W-what?"

"Vlad Masters. Did he do this?"

"Why would Dad's creepy friend send me to the future?" He still didn't think it was the future, ghosts could have some crazy powers but that? No.

"Because he's a fruitloop." It answered immediately, and accurately, the guy from Wisconsin wouldn't leave his mom alone. But why, how, could he have anything to do with this?! The thing stopped, its eyes flashed green again for a moment as it said, "Wait- Future?!"

Danny nodded, he'd barely been sure what was happening but he was certain that's was what the ghost had said. Surely one ghost's explanation would be more accepted than the other?

“Where’s your medallion then?”

“My what?”

“Clockwork’s medallion. I know how time travel works."

Danny opened his mouth, then closed it. Ignoring the utterly bizarre statement. This was a trap, a trick. The ghost masquerading as him either wanted the object for itself or it wanted to remove his only protection against the other one, the one that had frozen him in place without seeming to expend a drop of energy. No, no, it couldn't have it. But there weren't many other options. He should've known better than to bring up the time question! He needed to get out of here!

He threw the first thing he could reach, hoping to catch it off guard and ran towards it— Through it, even better. He sprinted down the stairs. There was a flash of bight light behind him, he dodged low, almost throwing himself down the stairs before he realized nothing had been fired.

"Whoa, hang on!" Its voice echoed in a way it hadn't before. He kept running, not wasting a moment to glance at it, and ran directly into someone.

"Whoa! Hey, Dann-o! You came outa—"

"Ghost! In my room!" His dad didn't miss a beat, the gun was up by the time he finished the word 'ghost' and he was firing by time the sentence was over.

The specter dodged the first blast, made a shield for the second and paused to speak, "So not cool, man!"

His mom heard the commotion and joined the fray, while Danny sprinted to the basement. He needed a weapon, that thing had been mimicking him. He barreled into the lab, to the weapons case. Opened it and—

Crash.

He barely jumped back in time to avoid getting crushed.

What?!

Who filled the case with all this junk?!? The case was the second most important piece of the lab (the portal took first), not even Dad wouldn't do this?!

"Danny?" Sam looked at him from the other end of the room, slightly baffled. Tucker was also staring. "Did you bring it?"

"Bring wha—"

"Dude, what's with the jumpsuit?" Tucker cut him off, "Is it really that dangerous? I thought you said you blasted it?"

"What? We talked about the jumpsuit!"

"Did we?" Tucker looked to Sam.

"No." She affirmed.

"Could you explain it again, then?"

"Its cause of all the ghosts..." Danny said slowly, they should know this, he'd been wearing them since the first ghost attacks... Suspicion crossed both his friend's features.

There was a long pause, the pair shared a look and Sam demanded, "Secret word."

"Uh, what?"

"What's the secret word." Tucker clarified, as if that clarified anything.

"What are you guys- Hey! Whoa!" Three ectoguns were now pointed at him, Sam with twin wrist blasters and Tucker with a laser-y thing that had come out of his PDA (When did he do that? It was a very good idea).

"Who are you?" Said Sam.

"Is Vlad cloning again?" Asked Tucker.

"What? No! I mean I don't know! I'm not impersonating me, the ghost upstairs is impersonating me!"

"Nice try. Now answer."

"Uh... Sam?" Tucker was focused on the PDA screen. She glanced at him, quickly, before focusing back on Danny. She'd used these before, not like Sam... His Sam, who avoided any involvement with ghost hunting, who refused to accept that they were just monsters. "His scans are weird..."

"What kind of weird?"

"He's a level 2.5." Tucker switched to a whisper.

"What?" Sam followed suit, "That's too low for a shapeshifter."

"Uh... that's normal..." Danny lied, well kind of. He normally was a level 1.3 but he'd also just been in a ghost's lair (two lairs if you counted not-future-him's bedroom) and had a ghostly artifact in his pocket. Those things were likely to temporarily raise an ectosignature's power rating. He was 76% sure.

Another pause, Sam tried to gesture something while still aiming, there were some whispers he didn't catch. Then Tucker asked, "Did Vlad... raise you?"

"No!? Why does everyone keep talking about Vlad?! The Fruitloop lives in Wisconsin, I've seen him maybe twice!" The pair shared another look. He had no idea how to read those expressions.

He sighed, "You guys won't believe me."

"Try us."

"Yesterday I was at the—"

"Guys! We have a problem!" His hair stood on end as the ghost dropped through the ceiling. Danny shuttered. It was so much worse now that he got a look at it, it was wearing a Fenton hazmat suit, his suit, no, a mockery of it. The colors were inverted and the FentonWorks logo was replaced with some other symbol. That wasn’t the only thing inverted, twisted, he was staring at his own face only not. It’s tintless white hair stuck up just like his, and it’s eyes burned deadly ectoplasm green. Danny still didn’t have a weapon. “Oh, you found him! We have slightly less of a problem.”

“He’s saying Vlad has nothing to do with this... I’m not sure if I believe him.” Sam lowered her blasters, because he was somehow more of a threat than the monster crackling with unused power.

“Yeah, no... he said something about time travel—“ both of his friends groaned, “Then! He sicced my parents on me,” It turned his attention to him, “which is rude by the way! Honestly, I was getting close to being able to ask about a truce, but now they’re gonna be chasing me around for ‘attacking their son!”

“Oof,” Tucker added, as Sam asked about something the ghost could do to get his parents back on his side. Danny stopped listening and scanned for something useful in the pile of discarded machinery. Weapon, weapon, weapon... this wasn’t promising. There were blenders and half disassembled watches and a few things that looked like they’d been pulled out of a trash fire. The thing that looked the least like junk was probably a scanner, but his parents had started putting tasers in those, so it was something.

“Hey,” too late. the ghost was in front of him, he dove for it. Grabbed it. Rolled with the momentum and brought the scanner up as he got to a kneeling position. The thing came to life with a whirring sound.

The ghost laughed, the sound lasted longer than it’s mouth had been open, “That’s the ghost Gabber.”

“That’s the Ghost Gabber. I am a ghost, fear me!”

“Look, I don’t know what’s up with you, but really it’s better for everyone if you go back to whatever time you’re from.”

“Look, I don’t know what’s up with you, but really it’s better for everyone if you go back to whatever time you’re from. Fear me.”

“Could you please turn that off.”

“Could you plea—“ The sound died as Danny flipped the switch and tossed it back on the pile. Why did his parents even make that?

“Why should I trust you, Ghost?!”

[raineydays411]

Reunions

Bruce Banner x daughter!reader

Summary: You are finally reunited with your father. 

Your heart raced as you waited for Loki to return. 

Apparently, Thor escaped and took Hulk with him. You were happy that they found a way to leave this damn planet. Or at least get out of the vicinity of the Grandmaster. 

But now, the Grandmaster was upset, calling for Loki. Turns out, you’ve come to care for the man, more than you ever thought you would. 

So here you are, outside the Grandmasters throne room, ready to step in if needed. You have no idea what you’d do, but you’d step in. That’s when Loki came out. You jogged up to his side, not realizing that he was with someone else.

“Well? Are you alright? What happened?” You ask, looking at his face for answers.

“Darling I am fine. Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He teases, then he turns his attention to the woman next to you. 

“What have you done?”

“I don’t answer to you, lackey.”

Loki grabs her arm, “It’s Loki, and you will answer to the Grandmaster.”

“Um hey maybe you shouldn’t” 

Then, she pushed his arm off her, the two of them hitting each other resulting in Loki getting punched in the face. 

‘Hmmph” The woman says smugly. Annoyed, Loki pulls out a dagger. 

“Why would you help my brother escape with that green fool” He asks pointing the blade at her threatingly. She pulls out her own knife.

“I don’t help anyone.” Loki lunges at her, the both of them swiping at each other trying to land a hit. You watch anxiously, debating on whether or not you would step in. That’s when Loki gets her arm pinned, seeing her tattoo.

“You’re a Valkyrie?” he questions, she breaks his hold, but he disarms her. She, however, doesn’t need a weapon as he lands several punches on Loki, managing to throw him to the wall.

“I thought the Valkyrie all dies gruesome deaths.” Loki taunted. It was surprising to hear him speak like this. He has always been so kind to you, you forget how cold his personality could be. He had a way to get under peoples skin, dig into their deepest insecurities. 

The Valkyrie knees him in the chest and hold the daggers to his face. “Choose your next words carefully.” She threatens.

That was enough to get you to jump in. You kick the back of her knee, making her loose her stance. Shocked at the sudden assault, her state allowed Loki to move in.

“I’m terribly sorry. It must be a painful memory.” Then he strikes, placing his hand on her forehead. It looks like she was forced into a memory. He face turning grim as she is forced to remember what, you assume to be an awful memory. 

She falls to the floor, shocked at what she had seen. Then she recovered. Faster than what Loki expected and pinned him on the ground, promptly knocking him out. 

You cringe, that punch looked like it hurt. Suddenly she stands up. Turning her attention on you.

“Hey, I’m no Loki but I’m pretty scrappy.” You say, tense and prepared to fight. She scoffs at your words.

“I’m not going to fight a child. You’ll either come willingly or face the Grandmaster.”

You sigh, gathering your bags. “ Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.” 

She drags Loki, who is still knocked out and leads you outside the castle. 

“We have to hurry before the streets get busy. The Grandmaster has already announced the disappearance of his champion.” She says, walking briskly as you follow along.

“So...you helped Thor escape?” You ask trying to keep up with her.

“More like he tricked me. Like I said before, I don’t help.”

“Then why are you taking Loki? You could’ve just left him.” You inquire.

Valkyrie huffs and turns to you, “ You ask a lot of questions, kid.” 

“I’m a curious person.” You respond. You look around, the streets are already filling with people. They all are so diverse. It was different out here, seeing them in green and parading around masks and costumes of the Hulk. On Earth, people feared him. But here, he was...praised. 

“I have a question.” Valkyrie says, “How did a Midgardian child end up all the way out here, with this.” She gestures to Loki.

“I was looking for my father.” You say shortly, “Loki saw me panicking and helped me out. We’ve been together ever since.”

“hmm” she hums, “We’re here.” 

She leads you into a house, it was green and white, kind of like the other room Thor was imprisoned in. 

“You stay here.” She says dropping Loki on a small stool. She tied him with a chain she pulls out from no where. “ I have to go find that idiot.” 

Then she leaves you alone with a passed out Loki. 

You sigh, taking a seat next to a window. You pull out your phone and start listening to music. You don’t feel like writing so you just stare out the window. You start to song to yourself lowly, already bored of just waiting here.

Then you hear a groan. You turn to look at Loki, who was waking up.

“Y/n? What happened” He asks wincing in pain

“You got knocked the fuck out man.” You tease. “ That Valkyrie lady brought us to her house or something.”

“Are you alright? Did she hurt you” He says struggling with the chains.

“No, just threatened me and made me come with her. I would’ve anyway, I wasn’t going to leave you. Besides, she’s kind of hot.” You say, getting up from where you were sat and grabbed a random bottle that looked like a drink.

Loki looks at you weirdly considering what you just said.

‘Here” you said, holding the bottle to his lips, “ You must be thirsty.”

He drinks from the bottle but spits it out, “Ugh that's alcohol”

You look at him and then the bottle. 

“Don’t even think about it.” He warns.

“Aw man.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thor had just made it to the quinjet. He’s relieved to find that the jet still works.

“Welcome, voice activation required.”

He places his hand on the scanner.

“Thor.”

Access denied.

“Thor, Son of Odin.”

Access denied

“God of Thunder’

Access denied

“Strongest Avenger.”

Access denied

“Strongest Avenger” He emphasizes.

Access denied.

Thor grunts in frustration. Trying to rack his brain for any possible passwords or nicknames. He sighs realizing what it must be.

“Damn you Stark. Point Break”

All the lights turn on as the plane is activated. 

“Welcome Point Break.”

Thor rolls his eyes and starts working on starting the quinjet. 

That’s when the Hulk tears the back open.

“FRIEND STAY” He shouts, making his way inside the plane.

“Hulk no!” Thor shouts, trying to get him to stop wrecking the already damaged ship.

“ STAY!” Hulk shouts stubbornly. Thor starts desperately looking for a way to preserve the ship.

He clicks random buttons, in hopes of a miracle. That's when a video pops up.

“Nice work Big guy” Natasha's voice comes through, “ We don’t know where Ultron's headed but you’re going very high, very fast. We can’t track you...”

Hulk freezes. Then jerks around. He bangs his head against the walls, punches himself in the head. 

“NO BANNER.” Hulk shouts. 

Thor presses another button. And another video pops up.

“Hi daddy. It’s me.” Your twelve year old voice rings through the jet, “ Tony doesn’t know I’m in here, but I need you to hear this. Come home. Please, I need you. I don’t care if you’re the hulk or anything. I just want my dad…don’t leave me...” 

Thor can see emotion in Hulks eyes. He roars, desperate to stay as he is. 

“NO BANNER. NO”

He fluctuated between Hulk and Bruce. They both fight to gain control of each other. Till finally he collapses, shrinking down to reveal Bruce Banner, panting in exhaustion.

“Banner?” Thor says carefully, slowly placing a hand on the mans shoulders.

Bruce jumps, not aware of his surroundings. Thor hushes him, attempting to calm him down,

“Shh, shh the suns going down. The suns going down real low”

“Thor?” Bruce says panting.

“Yeah” 

“What happened to your hair?” 

“Oh some creepy old guy cut it off”

“It looks good.”

“Oh thanks” Thor says smiling.

“Where are we? Where’s Nat? How is she?”

Thor frowns, “Um, she’s good. I assume.” 

“What about Sokovia? Did we save the city?” Bruce asks 

“Banner, listen, Sokovia, Ultron. All that was four years ago.”

Bruce's heart dropped, “I’ve been the hulk for four years”

Thor winces, “I’m afraid so..”

Bruce looks down at the beads has wearing and takes them off. Then he freezes, “Thor, my daughter. Y/n..is she okay?”

“Of course, oh Banner she’s wonderful. She... she’s waiting for you.” Thor says, not knowing how to tell him that you were on the same planet. 

“I have to get home... I” Bruce stands up almost toppling over but Thor catches him.

“Banner there's something you should know...”

Bruce gets up and goes to the hand scanner 

“Bruce Banner”

Welcome, Strongest Avenger.

“What?” Thor says offended. 

Him and Bruce watch the footage from when he crashed on Sakaar. 

Thor sighs knowing that this was going to be hard to explain.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sigh, after trying the fifth time to free Loki.

“What the hell are these chains made out of?” You grunt

Loki laughs, “Darling don’t stress yourself. We’ll escape in time.” 

You sigh and sit down next to Loki. 

“Was that you I heard singing earlier?” He asks, turning his head to face you. 

“Oh.. yeah, I do that a lot.” You blush, even though you’re a theater kid, you still get shy when singing in front of people.

“It was lovely.” Loki remarks not meeting your eyes. You smile, knowing not to make a big deal. You’re stomach growls. 

“There’s some fruit over there.” Loki says, “ They look about ripe.” 

You stand and walk towards the counter of fruit. It was just beyond the view of the door. You help yourself to the fruit. It was weird, like a mix of cantaloupe and a grape. You were about to offer Loki some when you saw him wipe his face of emotion and into an irritated look. Then the door opened.

“Surprise.” Loki said sarcastically. Then you see a can hit him in the forehead.

“Ow.” He says in a monotone.

“Just making sure.” you hear Thor say, walking into the place.

“Hello Bruce.” Loki says. 

You freeze, hearing your fathers voice for the first time in four years.

“So, last time I saw you, you were trying to kill everybody. Where are you at these days?’

“It varies from moment to moment.” 

You decide to make your presence known. You gulped and over your beating heart said, “ Don’t be such a drama king, you sound like an edgy middle school boy.” 

Loki smirks, looking towards you, but before he can say anything Thor cuts him off.

“Y/n! Thank heavens you’re alright” Thor says patting your shoulder. 

You smile up at him , avoiding your fathers stare, “Yeah I’m good, Lord of Thunder.” 

“Y/n?”

You take a deep breath, the room going quiet.

You slowly turn, facing your father, “Hi daddy...”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bruce can hear his heart beating in his ears. He didn’t recognize you at first. He couldn’t have, the last time he saw you...you were a kid. This tiny little twelve year old that was barely in sixth grade. 

But here you are. His daughter, four years older. A teenager. He...He lost four years with you. He practically missed you growing up. Your first period, first day of high school. Here you were, on an other planet, dressed in some weird suit of armor, conversing with a man who tried to enslave Earth like he was an old friend. 

“Y/n?” He says in disbelief. You turn to him, slowly. Your face...you..you look just like your mother.

“Hi daddy” You say as your eyes start to water.

“Y/n” He says striding towards you and pulling you into a tight hug, “ Wha-what are you doing here? What are you wearing?”

“I came to look for you.” You respond, your face pressed into his chest. He pulls away, grabbing your face in his hands.

“God...look at you, you...you were just a kid..” He whispers tears filling his eyes. You smile sadly and nod. You really don’t know what to say, you’re relieved to finally see your dad but...it’s kind of awkward with all these people around.

“What is going on?” Valkyrie whispers to Thor as they watch the emotional scene play out.

“Oh, Y/n is Bruce’s daughter who hasn’t seen him for four years.” Thor simply says, “ Is that a dragonfang?!”

Valkyrie rolls her eyes at the topic change, “ sure is”

You roll your eyes, overhearing their conversation.

“ So, you were with Thor this whole time?” Bruce asks confused, “ why didn’t I see you?”

“Um actually I was with Loki..” you answer nervously, peaking over at Loki who looked annoyed to still be tied up.

“Did he kidnap you?” Bruce asks, “Thor, you let my daughter run around with your psychotic brother?!”

“ Hey!” Loki said offended. You giggle, always finding him being insulted amusing. You look at Loki's face, seeing an emotion in his eyes that you can’t place.

“Shh Banner stay calm” Thor says soothingly, “ in my defense I was enslaved and forced to fight.” He shoots a glare at Valkyrie who was drinking. She rolls her eyes and picks up another bottle.

“Can we get back to the plan?” Valkyrie, “ Sakaar and Asgard are as far apart as any two known systems. Our best bet, is a wormhole just outside of city limits. If we refuel on Xandar, and we can be back on Asgard in about...18 months.”

“Nope. We’re going through the big one.” Thor says, pointing at the large wormhole in the sky. 

“The Devil’s Anus?” 

You snort at the name as your dad’s attention is caught.

“Anus? wait, wait, wait, whose anus?” Bruce says, letting go of you and walking to the two Asgardians.

“For the record, I didn’t know it was called that when I picked it.”

You walk up to Loki, and sit next to him looking out the window.

“That looks like a collapsing neutron star inside of an Eisen-Rosen Bridge.” Bruce says facing the window. 

“We need another ship, that one would tear mine to pieces.” Valkyrie says drinking from another bottle. 

“She’s right, we’ll need one that can withstand the geodetic strain from the singularity” Thor says.

You make eye contact with Loki, both of you realizing that the Grandmaster has a bunch of ships. You have a silent conversation with him, trying to convince him to do the right thing. Considering that the time you two spent there, he had you steal the access codes to the security systems with his guide.

You look up at the right second to see your dad and Thor fist bump. Kind of awkwardly but its nice to see him get out of his comfort zone. 

“There are one of two ships, one of top of the line models and...”

“I don’t mean to impose..” Loki starts, but Valkyrie throws her bottle at him, nearly hitting him but smashing into the wall instead. Loki slightly turns his body to shield you from the glass, even though you were on the other side. You glare at her from where you are sat.

“The fuck...” You start, but see Loki's face telling you to stay quiet. 

“The Grandmaster has a great many ships. Y/n here, may have stolen the access codes to his security systems,” He says proudly glancing at you. You blush as the three glance at you. Your father looking at you in confusion.

“And suddenly you’re both overcome with the urge to do the right thing?” 

“Heavens no.” “I’m literally just vibing” You both say at the same time.

“We’ve run out of favor with the Grandmaster. In exchange for codes and access to a ship, I’m asking for safe passage, through the Anus. For the both of us.” Loki concludes glaring at you when you laugh at the wording.

“You’re telling us, you can get us a ship without setting the alarms?” Thor asks

“Yes brother, we can.”

“Why don’t we just take the girl? She’s the one who knows  the codes.” Valkyrie asks glaring at the both of you. 

“Y/n is not going back to that retched place.” Loki states, “We both know those codes, and she stays far away, where its safe.” 

“Okay, can we just,” Bruce gestures for the team to meet up, “just a quick fyi. Y/n you too.”

You groan, getting up from your spot as Loki rolls his eyes. You walk over to the 

“ I was just talking to him, and he was totally ready to kill any of us.”

“He did try to kill me.” Valkyrie says. 

“Yes, me too on many, many occasions.” Thor adds, “ There was this one time when we were children, he transformed himself into a snake, and he knows that I love snakes. So I went to pick up the snake to admire it.” “

no” Bruce whispers

 “ And he transformed back into himself and was like ‘blegh its me’ and then he stabbed me. We were eight at the time.”

Bruce looked back at Loki in disbelief, and when you looked at Loki you can see a small smile creep up on his face. 

“Well, he’s never tried to kill me.” You chime in, “ He made me some soup thing when I got sick. “

The three adults looked at you in disbelief. 

“Sweetheart, he’s murdered people.” Bruce said. 

“Okay?? He’s my emotional support murderer. He hugs me when I’m sad.” You say rolling your eyes. 

Thor and Valkyrie look at you in confusion. 

“That doesn’t sound healthy.” Bruce mutters

“Dad, if Bucky can get a second chance then so can Loki” You say stubbornly leaving the group to sit with Loki.

“Who’s Bucky?”

“Guys, if we’re going to boost a ship we have to draw attention away from the palace.”

“Why not set the beast loose?”

“Shut up” “That's a terrible idea.”

“Hey, why don’t you start a revaluation?” You say.

The adults look at you again in surprise. 

“I thought of that “ Thor says.

“Well I said it first.’ You snipe back with a smirk.

“...You’ve spent too much time with Loki.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[serasvictoria]

I've Got Dreams To Remember

Pairing: Incubus Hvitserk/Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 8244 (yeah, I don't know what happened either)

Summary: A certain young man keeps showing up in your very x-rated dreams.

Notes: I fully realise that the contents of this might not be for everyone, so I’ll just say that according to some stories Incubi are capable of shapeshifting. A certain aspect of this has been inspired by @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie's absolutely brilliant fic, Take Me, so if you've read that you'll know what I'm talking about. And if you haven’t read it, what the hell are you doing? READ IT.

There is another moodboard all the way at the end of this to provide a visual for something that I describe in this so have a look at it at the end.

Tagging: @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @vikingstrash @quantumlocked310

He only ever came to you in your dreams.

The dreams were interesting to say the least and he always played a very big part in them. You often wondered what deep and dark recesses of your brain had conjured him up, because you would definitely remember if you had encountered someone like him in real life.

It first started about a month ago. You’d gotten out of a particularly nasty relationship a few months before. You were still trying to navigate your way through this new life that you now had and while your friends were busy with trying to get you back onto the dating scene, you persisted in that regard. You weren’t looking for a new man in your life, but you still had needs. Sure, you had your toys, but they were a somewhat poor substitute when what you really wanted was for someone to grab your ass, lift you up and fuck you up against a wall.

Maybe that was where he had come from. Because that was exactly the scenario that you got the first time that he showed up.

It was a fairly generic one where dreams were concerned. You were in a bar with some people, a wide assortment of people that you knew in real life, when you could feel someone’s eyes on you. You looked up and stared straight into the half shaded face of a young man whose eyes you couldn’t actually make out, but you saw the smile that graced his lips and boy was it hungry. You only glanced away for a second and when you looked back again, he was already gone. You’d resigned yourself to missing your chance, when a hand suddenly grasped your wrist, dragged you outside to a nearby alleyway and gave you exactly what you’d been thinking of during your waking hours.

When you woke up, you had never found yourself feeling so satisfied before. You threw the blankets over your head, rolled over and tried to fall asleep again, but sleep didn’t take you for a second time that morning sadly enough. Later that day, after getting out of the shower and glancing in the mirror before combing your hair, you stared at your reflection in confusion or to be more precise at your bare skin. In your dream, your mystery lover had bitten your shoulder and there, right there on your shoulder, were teeth marks. But that was impossible, right? Maybe the dream had been that intense that it had somehow tricked your body into believing that it had been real? Did things like that even happen?

You didn’t dream of him the next night. Nor the following five nights. Not that you were keeping track or anything. He eventually put in another appearance though. The setting for that dream wasn’t particularly inventive either and you were almost embarrassed that your mind was even coming up with stuff that gave you the impression that they should be storylines in bad porn movies. It was a department store this time and you were looking at underwear. Your fingers continuously ran over the lace trims of various bras and touched the silky panties that came with them.

Again, you felt eyes on you and it was the same young man as from your previous dream. Apparently, dream you was in a frisky mood so you held up various bras in front of your chest, most of which he disapproved of, until you came across a bright red lace number that he seemed to like. When he finally found you in the fitting room shortly after, you were wearing the set that he had wanted to see you in before tearing it off your body and fucking you up against the full length mirror.

That was the first time that you’d gotten a good look at his face. Frankly, you were impressed with what your mind had come up with. He had long dirty blonde hair that he wore in a ponytail and that you longed to see loose. His eyes were green one time and when you looked again they seemed brown. That was one of the parts about him that mystified you. That and the part where you constantly wanted to kiss the tip of his nose and his ears. That was definitely an odd experience to say the least.

He was tall and lithe of build, but with surprising strength in his arms. The way that he would hold you was intense, like he never wanted to let you go. When his shirt came off, you found yourself staring at the intricate tattoo that covered most of his left bicep and part of his chest. It was some kind of Viking design and it looked old, but it was probably meant to look like that. You found yourself tracing it with your finger a number of times, something that seemed to amuse him.

Whenever you woke up, you were annoyed that you had been torn out of this perfect little dream world. The dream world where you were fucked six ways from Sunday. You were so thirsty for this young man that you had created that he was in your nighttime fantasies pretty much every single night now. In your dreams he left you so satisfied that you had no idea why you ever wanted to leave. If only you could stay asleep and feel this bliss forever. What would make them even more amazing was if the fantasies were better. You always swore that you were one dream away from having him come round to your house so he could have a closer look at your plumbing.

“What are you thinking about?”

Rolling over on your side, you looked at the man next to you in the bed. Despite the fact that you had been dreaming about him almost every single night for the past two weeks, you had never actually heard him talk. You’d heard him moan and groan several times, but to hear his lips form actual sentences was a new thing.

“Nothing,” you replied with a smile.

“I can read your thoughts, you know.”

“You can?”

“Yeah, I never told you?” He grinned at you and ran his fingers up and down your bare arm. “Maybe I could have told you if you’d wanted to talk, but you only want me for my body.”

“What? I don’t… I never…” You were flustered and looking for words after being so brutally called out. “It was never like…”

“It’s okay,” he said with a laugh. “I don’t mind. It’s what I do.” Since he saw the obvious confusion on your face, he continued. “I’ve been feeding off you this entire time.”

“Feeding off me? But I never feed you anything.”

“Your orgasms.” A frown creased your brow and he started laughing again before leaning in and pressing his lips against your forehead. “It’s what I need to sustain myself. I can eat other food as well, but it never quite fills me up the way orgasms do.”

“So the reason that you made me come multiple times is…”

“Because it fills me. Not my belly, mind you, but on a deeper level.” He cupped your chin and brushed the tip of his nose against yours. “I don’t expect you to understand, but I suppose a thank you is in order.” His hand slipped down, gently gripping your neck, applying just the slightest bit of pressure, before moving down to it’s destination and plucking at your nipple almost idly. He was gearing you up for another round and you found that you couldn’t actually remember how many times he had made you come already. “Can I thank you with this body that you can’t get enough of?”

“Wait.”

“So now you want to talk?” He continued his ministrations on your chest as if you hadn’t been talking at all. You caught the playful smirk on his lips before he leaned in and started sucking marks on your neck. “What do you want to know?”

“You say you feed off me, but doesn't that mean that you want to eat me?”

“And why would I want to do that? I like to use my mouth for other things,” he said with a low chuckle. You hissed through your teeth when he sank his teeth into your skin suddenly and then licked the spot where he had bitten you. “Would be a waste to eat you anyway.”

“So the reason that you’re able to…”

He pulled away so he could look you in the eye. He grinned as he pushed his hand against your shoulder and he got on top of you as soon as you were laying on your back. “Are you getting shy on me now? After everything that we’ve done?” He nudged your legs apart and you could feel his erection pressing into your thigh. “But yes, that’s why my erections last so long. The aim of the game is not to come myself, but to make sure that you do.”

“Doesn’t it hurt?”

“I beat myself off when you wake up. It’s not like I can’t climax myself, but I can make sure that I stay hard for as long as I need to.” You could feel his tip pressing against your entrance, ready to slide in at any second. “It’s a dream. Anything can happen in a dream.”

“Anything?”

“Sure. Wanna see?”

You didn’t know what he had planned, but you nodded anyway. His eyes lit up, his irises practically glowing green right now, and he started grinning, eager to show you what else he could do. He snapped his fingers and all of a sudden you were sitting on a red velvet sofa in what appeared to be some kind of high end bar. Your legs were wide open with him on his knees in front of you, his lips already on the inside of your knee and slowly working his way up.

“So you can change locations?”

“Honey, I can change everything.” You felt his teeth on the inside of your thigh, nipping at your skin playfully, mere inches away from the top of your legs. “Is the setting not to your liking?”

“How did you even come up with this place?”

“Experience?” He briefly looked up at you and shrugged. “I’ve been doing this for a long time.”

“How long?”

“Not telling.” He stuck his tongue out at you and then dipped his head down to lick a stripe from your entrance up to your clit. “I can never get enough of how you taste.” He moaned against your core. He spent most of his time with his face between your legs in your dreams. With what he’d revealed earlier, about how he fed on your orgasms, maybe that was the place where he could taste it the best? “Not really.” You moaned loudly when he spoke, because his voice was adding vibrations to what he was doing. You’d entirely forgotten that he had mentioned that he was able to hear your thoughts. “You just taste real good.”

A single finger slid inside of you, your walls instantly clenching around him, trying to pull him in deeper. When he adds another, you start whimpering and you know that you’re going to come soon. If you could, you’d have him in this position all the time. There had never been anyone in your life who had been this good at eating you out and who was so clearly enjoying himself as well. Your last boyfriend had been a disaster on that front, more often than not he would skip foreplay entirely, but he’d still expect you to suck his dick whenever he felt like it. Figures that you’d only be able to find an enthusiastic lover in your dreams.

Guys like that simply didn’t exist in real life.

You reach down to thread your fingers through his hair. The gesture makes him suck at your clit harder and thrust his fingers in deeper than before. He was practically devouring you at this point, lapping up your juices and making sounds that told you that he hadn’t been lying when he told you that he liked how you tasted. It was almost as if he didn’t want to waste a single drop. You keened out a noise as another orgasm positively engulfed you. You’d push him away and close your thighs if you could, but he had wrapped his arms around your thighs and was using all his strength to keep them wide open. Your muscles were tight as a bowstring, your back arched and pushed you up into a position that would start to hurt if you stayed in it for too long. He was relentless though, ignoring your discomfort and continuing his assault until he had managed to pull yet another climax out of your shuddering body.

When he finally released you, you collapsed onto the sofa, your entire body sticky with sweat. You blinked a few times to stop yourself from seeing stars and when you heard him chuckle, you swatted your hand in his general direction without actually hitting him. It took you a couple of minutes, but you eventually managed to sit upright again when your lungs stopped burning. He was still on his knees in front of you with an incredibly smug impression plastered all over his face. You nudged your foot against his shoulder and he fell backwards dramatically. Your face twisted when you felt the velvet against your sweaty body. It had felt pleasant on your bare skin before, but not anymore.

“I can do something about that,” he said cheerily and snapped his fingers again. When he saw the look on your face when you noticed where you were, he couldn’t hide his amusement. “No good?”

“This is terrible,” you replied with a wide grin. “I mean. Honestly.”

The flashing light underneath you made you laugh. He’d pulled this one from your bad sex fantasies again. A piece of paper slid into the tray on the side. He picked it up, looked at it with a frown before turning the piece of paper over so you could see it.

“I think there’s something wrong with this printer.” He shook his head and pressed a few buttons underneath your leg. “It really needs fixing.”

“Think you can fix it?”

“I can try.” He pushed his hands underneath your ass just as the light flashed again and a few seconds later he showed you the black and white printout of your behind with his fingers shoved in between you and the glass that you were sitting on. “That’s beautiful. Think I might have to frame that.”

“You’re such a weirdo.”

“I think that it’s funny.” He pressed his lips on yours hungrily and you could still taste yourself on his tongue. “I got this from your mind, remember? I really think we might have to work on the state of your fantasies though. They really could be a lot more inventive.”

“Maybe I’m just not very original.”

“You’re just not giving yourself enough credit, sweetheart.”

“Maybe.” You nipped at his lower lip and then pressed a kiss on the tip of his nose which was probably a little too gentle considering all the other stuff that you’d gotten up that night, but you hardly cared anymore. “You can probably come up with something a lot better.”

“I can try, but you’re probably going to be disappointed.”

One snap of his fingers and suddenly you were in the dark. You could also tell that you were alone. The other two times, you could always feel him around you, but not this time. You hugged your arms around your torso, feeling cold for no reason at all. All of a sudden a couple of lights switched on, bathing the room in red light, and you realised that you were standing on a stage. When you glanced at the side, you could see a pole right next to you. You instinctively reached out for it, feeling the cool metal against your palm and you held it as you walked in a circle around it. There were full length mirrors all around you and you briefly looked at your reflection.

The outfit that you wore left little to the imagination which was probably the point when you took the location into account. You were wearing a red triangle bikini top and a black pair of shorts that half your ass was hanging out of. The shoes, the infamous stripper heels naturally, had plastic, see-through straps and the platform heels had a iridescent sparkle to it.

When you had done a turn, your eyes scanned the place and you could see him sitting on a chair right next to the stage, looking up at you expectantly. He obviously wanted a show so why not give him one? Holding onto the pole, you slid down until you were on your knees and then you started skimming your hands up and down your chest. He was completely enraptured and kept reaching down to readjust himself in his trousers. Given how he usually remained rockhard throughout these dreams, the skinny jeans that he was wearing right now were probably incredibly uncomfortable.

You crawled over to where he was sitting. When you had reached the edge, you reached out to grab him by his shirt and pulled him up out of his seat. His eyes widened for a second or two before he composed himself again. He couldn’t resist leaning in when your face came closer to his, but you merely ghosted your lips over his before pushing him back into his chair.

“No touching the stripper,” you chided and then wagged a finger at him. “Or I’ll ask security to kick you out.”

“But you’re allowed to touch me?”

“Are you trying to tell me you’d have me kicked out?”

“No way.” He leaned back in his chair, arm hanging over the back and he started sipping at a cocktail that suddenly materialised in his hand. “Keep going.”

The only problem there was that you had no clue what strippers even did. Sure you’d seen a video, but those women were a lot more athletic than you were. You’d also seen Showgirls once, but that movie probably wasn’t the best example about what to do. The only thing that you had learned from that movie was how not to have sex in a pool and that licking a stripper pole wasn’t particularly sexy, just incredibly unhygienic. You swung your legs over the edge of the stage and put your feet on the arm rests of his chair, practically daring him to touch you. Having caught your intent, he didn’t move and then he had the audacity to feign indifference.

Sliding off the stage, you climbed onto his lap instead and started gyrating your hips against his. You reached up to grab a handful of his hair, pulled his head back and dragged your lips down the column of his throat. When he grabbed your ass, you slapped his cheek with your free hand.

“No touching,” you whispered in his ear. “I’m not telling you again.”

“Damn, baby.” He sounded impressed by how well you were taking control of this new situation. “That is such a fucking turn-on.” You pulled on his hair harder and since your mouth was still close to his ear, you took his earlobe between your teeth and gave it a gentle tug. “Holy shit. You’re a fucking natural.”

“Oh yeah?”

You leaned back so you could look him in the eye. His eyes sparkled with obvious excitement and a deeper, more animalistic need. Like he could grab you at any moment, throw you onto the stage and fuck you right there if you pushed him too far. Very tempting. Reaching to the back of your neck, you pulled at the bow that held the strings of the halterneck together and when it was loosened, they fell down your shoulders. You pushed the cups down until they hung loosely around your chest. The only thing that was keeping the top on was the string that tied together around your back.

His eyes flitted down to your chest and then back up to your face again. You wanted him to touch you, but after telling him off a few times, you weren’t sure if he was going to. So you placed your hand on the back of his head and pressed him against your chest instead. You felt him smile against your skin and then his lips started moving, shifting in the direction of your nipple.

A shiver ran down your spine and you looked up suddenly. You had the odd feeling that there was another set of eyes on you, but that was impossible since the two of you were the only people here. Looking up at the bar, you saw a young man who was leaning against the bar and watching the two of you intently. He was smartly dressed in a dark blue suit, his long hair loose and hanging down over his shoulders. Even in this odd red light, you could tell that his skin was too pale, so white that it was almost translucent and when he grinned at you, you could see that his canines were too long, too pointy. Without realising it yourself, you had frozen entirely and the young man underneath you had sensed it, looking up at you in confusion before following your eyes.

“What the fuck, man!” He suddenly shouted at the other guy, anger flashing behind his eyes. “The hell are you doing here? Fuck off!” The man at the bar shrugged and disappeared just as suddenly as he had appeared. “Sorry about that.”

“Who was that?”

“My brother.”

“Your brother?”

“Yeah, he’s a dick,” he said with a deep sigh. “Our mother would keep tabs on us when we were kids to make sure that we didn’t get into any trouble. You have any idea how weird it is when your mother enters the dreams where you’re trying to get off with a girl? Fucking embarrasing.” He raised his eyebrows at you when he noticed that you were trying to suppress a laugh and pinched your side. “I don’t know how the fuck it works, but my mother taught the little shit how to do it as well and so he just… I dunno… shows up sometimes like the little creep that he is.”

“Does that mean that he’ll come back?”

“No. He just likes to remind me that he can do it from time to time.” He wrapped his arms around your waist and pressed his head against your chest. “But fuck that. I don’t want to talk about my asshole brothers.”

“Brothers?”

“Ah shit. No. Not talking about them.” He pulled at the string on your back, pulled the bikini top from your body and threw it on the stage. “So this particular fantasy is ruined now. Let's start again, shall we?”

“Can’t we salvage it?”

“I’ve got something better.” The look on his face told you that this had the potential to be really good. “Do you trust me?”

“How bad is this going to be?” He tilted his head to the side, that wasn’t the answer that he had wanted to hear. “Yes.”

“I don’t do this a lot so bear with me alright?”

Another snap of the fingers and the strip bar starts to fade away. You were sitting on a bed now and you were wearing a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt that looked old. The new location was just as red (he really did seem to like that colour), but it didn’t look that special to you. In fact, it looked like a fairly cheap love motel, one where lovers would retreat to so they could enjoy each other's company for about an hour before going their separate ways again.

You got up from the bed and walked over to a table by the window to look at what was set out on it. There was a big bowl of strawberries and a bottle of ridiculously expensive champagne right next to it. He’d really pulled out all the stops, even in a dream. You were giggling to yourself when the door to the bathroom opened and someone appeared in the doorway. It took you a short moment before you realised who it was, but when it all clicked into place your mouth fell open.

Because leaning against the doorframe was a woman. Her dirty blonde hair was loose and still slightly wet, hinting at the fact that she’d been taking a shower moments earlier. She was wearing a silk bathrobe that was tied together by the waist with a big bow and you could see her hard nipples quite clearly through the thin material. The smirk was damn near unmistakable however. When she approached you, you instantly got the impression that you were her prey, there was just something very predatory in the way that she moved. She came to a standstill right in front of you and her mischievous eyes flashed bright green briefly.

“Feed me,” she said with a grin. You took one of the strawberries from the bowl and when you presented it to her, she held her mouth wide open, ready to be fed. You felt her tongue swipe over your fingers when you fed it to her and then she let out a single moan when she started chewing. A few seconds later you felt a finger against your chin so she could push your mouth shut. “Surprised?”

“Very.” You looked her up and down. The bathrobe barely covered the tops of her thighs and she reached down to play with the hemline, to make sure that your eyes stayed focused on her legs. “I didn’t know you could turn into a woman.”

“It’s a dream,” she stated simply. “Anything’s possible.” She leaned in to you and you closed your eyes, anticipating a kiss, but then her lips brushed against the shell of your ear as she talked. “I don’t do this a lot though. So consider yourself special.”

“All this to make up for your brother interfering?”

“Guess you could say that.” She took your hands and started pulling you along to the bed. When you reached it you thought that she was finally going to kiss you, but then she spun you round and made you sit on the bed instead. She pulled on the bow that held the bathrobe together and brushed it open, revealing herself to you slowly, like one might unveil a priceless painting. “Like what you see?”

Your throat had gone dry and you found that you had lost the ability to form words. He was beautiful when he was a man, but now that he was a woman, his toned torso had given way to soft curves and skin that looked so smooth that you wanted to do nothing else but reach out and touch it. She took a step closer and stood in between your open legs, a sweet smile on her lips as she looked down at you.

“You’re not talking.” There was a slight teasing tone to her voice as she spoke. “That bad?”

“No.” She took your hand and moved it up until it was covering her bare breast. You gave a quick experimental squeeze. “Just surprised. Takes some getting used to.” Your other hand moved up of its own accord so you could cup her other breast as well. “I mean, I’ve never been with another woman before.”

“You can. If you want to.”

While you had only ever been with men, the thought of being with a woman wasn’t something that you weren’t entirely opposed to. Especially not with someone as beautiful and seductive as this. She shrugged out of the robe and dropped it to the floor. The tattoo that was usually on his left arm had changed into something more delicate and feminine, pink cherry blossoms with green leaves and branches in between them that curled up her arm and covered part of her clavicle. You moved your hand up and started tracing them with your fingers, gently caressing her skin, her green eyes following your every move.

When you heard a soft giggle, you looked back at her face and before you could say anything, she’d pushed you back onto the mattress. She was on top of you a split second later and then you finally felt her soft lips on yours. You could still taste the sweet strawberry on her lips and on her tongue when she slipped it into your mouth. Your hands ran down her back, following her spine and then settling on her ass. Whenever you squeezed, she ground her hips down against yours and you were suddenly overcome with the urge to see her on her back with her hair fanned out over the red sheets.

Grabbing her hips, you flipped her over and since she’d just read your thoughts, she reached up and made sure her hair was spread out just the way that you had just imagined it. She started pushing your shirt up and you almost ripped it off in your eagerness to get naked for her, even if she’d seen you like that many times before. She pushed herself up into a sitting position and shoved her hand into your sweatpants roughly. Her fingers started rubbing at your sex, finding you very wet and very willing.

Pulling her hand out, you leaned back and pushed your pants down, kicking your legs to get them off entirely without moving too far away from her. When you were completely naked, her hand settled back at the top of your legs, her movements more hurried and urgent now. With your hands on her breasts, you started licking and nipping at her neck, moaning against her skin when one of her fingers started circling your clit.

“I want to make you come,” you groaned into her ear. “Never made you… fuck… come before.”

“But you give me so many other things,” she purred back. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to.” You skimmed one hand down her stomach and slipped your hand between her legs. “Jesus Christ. You’re so wet.” You were rewarded with a moan when you tried touching her the way you liked to be touched. It was almost as if you were moving on autopilot, like you instinctively knew what to do. “Please.”

She didn’t reply so instead you pulled your hand away from her, making her let out a displeased whine, and you pulled your face away from her neck so she could watch you suck your fingers into your mouth. You twirled your tongue around your fingers, making sure that she could see exactly what you were doing and then moved your hand down again. You pressed them up against her entrance first, teasing her with the slightest bit of pressure and then slipped them inside. She started tilting her hips up against your hand and the way that her face contorted in pleasure really was something that would be etched into your mind forever.

“Can I?” You repeated the question since you still hadn’t gotten an answer. “I really want to.” Pressing your lips down on hers again in a searing kiss, you murmured against her lips. “Please say yes.” You pressed your fingers in as deep as they could go, all the way down to the third knuckle. Since he had seemed to like it quite a bit when you did it earlier, you tangled your fingers in her long hair and gave a forceful tug. She gasped into your mouth and you knew that you had her. “I’ll just keep doing this until you say yes.”

“Fuck.” She shifted underneath you and you reluctantly pulled your lips away from hers. “I love it when you do that.”

“I know.” A triumphant grin formed on your lips and she was so obviously into it that it was hard to drop this act. Dipping your head down, you bit her neck suddenly and she squealed with obvious delight. You decided to thrust your fingers into her harder and she was so wet now that you could hear your digits moving in and out of her. “I want to make you come so bad.”

“You’re pretty good at this,” she moaned breathlessly. “Want to take this a little bit further?”

“How?”

“I’ll give you what you want, but not like this.” She wrapped a hand around your wrist and gently pulled your hand away. She then brought your hand up to her lips and started licking her own juices off your fingers with such fervour that she could have been mistaken for a starving animal. Seeing that was so arousing that you couldn’t stop a moan from escaping from your lips. “I want you to do something else.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Check the drawers.”

You scrambled off of her, probably a little bit too fast, in your eagerness to see what was in there. You were expecting a vibrator, a buttplug even, but you must have pulled a particularly funny face when you saw what was in the drawer instead because she started laughing as soon as she saw your expression. You hooked your fingers in one of the straps and lifted it up, probably looking very much afraid to even touch it. Your eyes were wide as it hung from your fingers and you turned back to fully face her.

“You want me to wear...” You gestured at it with your free hand. “...this?”

“Well, yes, sweetheart.” She got on all fours and crawled over to your side of the bed. “That’s exactly what I want you to do.”

“Right.”

“You’re not sure.”

“It’s just… this is very much virgin territory for me.”

“You were doing fine just now.”

“That’s kinda different though, isn’t it?” You looked down at the strap-on that was still dangling from your fingers and she started poking at it playfully. It looked so silly that you couldn’t help but laugh. Truth be told, you were kind of curious about this kind of thing. “Are you sure about this?”

“Positive.” She pushed herself up on her knees and hooked her arms around your neck, pressing her entire body flush against you. “So. What do you say?”

“This is definitely one of the weirdest dreams I’ve ever had.”

“Yes or no.” She started kissing you, nice and slow, and then sucked your bottom lip into her mouth. Your hands snaked down her back and when she nipped at your lip, you gave her ass a hard slap. “Baby!” She started giggling, her fingernails digging into your shoulder blades when you grabbed her ass and squeezed her roughly. “I love it when you manhandle me.”

“That’s new for me as well.”

“I really am pushing your boundaries, ain’t I?” She pulled away suddenly and got on all fours again, turning her ass in your direction. She wiggled her hips and peered over her shoulder until you slapped her again. “Keep doing that and I’ll climax before you’ve shoved that thing inside of me.”

“Yeah right.” But you slapped her on the other cheek just for good measure. She pushed back until her ass was pressed against your hips and then she started moving backwards and forwards like you were already thrusting into her. “I need some help… with this thing…”

She faced you again in a flash, obviously excited by your willingness to do this. The harness was on you fairly quickly all things considered and then she lowered herself, gave you a quick wink and started sucking the large dildo into her mouth. So that’s what it looked like from that angle. You stroked her hair in very much the same manner like your previous partners had always done with you whenever you went down on them. Come to think of it, you suddenly realised that you had never actually had his cock in your mouth. That probably wasn’t all that weird considering this no climaxing thing that he appeared to have going on, but whenever you’d even attempted to kiss your way down his chest, he always stopped you.

You felt her tap her fingers against your hip and then she released the dildo with a pop. “You’re overthinking this. This isn’t about me. Never was.” Sitting up on her knees again, she stroked the side of your face almost lovingly and you eased into her touch for a few seconds. “Like I said earlier, the aim is to make you come.” She flashed you a big, predatory smile and then continued, “Speaking of. You do this right and afterwards I’ll push myself into you balls deep and fuck you until your fucking alarm goes off. How’s that for a tradeoff?”

“The way that you usually are?”

“Depends on what you want.” Her hand settled on your chest and she twisted one of your nipples between her fingers. “If you want me to wear that strap-on afterwards, I can do that. No problem.”

“You’ll probably be able to tell exactly what I want when I’m done with you.”

“You bet your ass, baby.” She winked at you and then a bottle of lube magically appeared in her hand. “I know that this is a dream, but I still need to use this.”

“Do you have any idea how weird it is when you do that?” She looked at you with her perfect eyebrows raised as she squeezed some liquid into her hand, applied it liberally to the silicone shaft and then the tube disappeared again when she was done. “Magicking things up out of thin air.”

“That’s what you think is weird about all this?” She rubbed her hands between her legs, applying some more lube on her pussy and started pushing her hips up against her hands. “I can change everything about this dream, even my gender, but when I make stuff appear in my hand that’s taking it one step too far?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do.” She turned her back on you and pressed her ass against the sex toy. “Now get it over with and fuck me already.”

“That really wasn’t necessary.” You grabbed a handful of her hair, pulled hard and twisted her head back. She laughed breathlessly and pushed her hips back again. “I’m just going to have to fuck this attitude out of you.”

“Fuck yes! Teach me a lesson.” She was practically purring the words at you. When you pushed her forward roughly, she loudly voiced her delight. You pressed one hand firmly between her shoulder blades, making sure that her face stayed down. Grabbing her hips, you made her raise her ass in the air and then positioned yourself in front of her entrance. “I’ve been such a bad girl.” With one thrust of your hips, you slipped inside of her and she let out a long stretched out moan as you watched the dildo disappear inside of her. “You’re so fucking big.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at that sudden admission. For some reason she was playing the part that loads of women seemed to play in porn movies and when you started pumping in and out of her, she wouldn’t stop moaning about how good it felt and how well you were fucking her. This really was something else and whenever you glanced down at how her ass rippled whenever your hips connected with her, you couldn’t help but be completely fascinated with how it looked, practically unable to tear your eyes away from her.

Her noises started increasing and you kept slapping her already reddening ass in between thrusts. Pulling out almost entirely, you pushed back in so hard that her moans were starting to sound muffled. Never once pausing what you were doing on her, you slid one hand down over her hip so you could touch her clit. You ran the other one up her spine, tightened your fingers in her hair and yanked her up, pulling her against your chest.

“I wanna hear you,” you groaned in her ear and she started whimpering instantly. “You gonna come for me now?”

“Almost,” she mewled back. “I’m so close.” You speeded up the motions against her clit and she let out a loud cry, reaching back with one hand to wrap it around the back of your head. You were barely able to move your hips at this odd angle, but she didn’t seem to care from the way that she was bucking up against your hand and panting. When she started whimpering and rubbing her back against your chest, you could feel the muscles in her thighs constricting against your hand. “Fuck.”

A grunt of pleasure was torn from her throat and she arched her back, all her muscles going rigid all at once when her orgasm tore through her. You kept her pulled against you, absolutely delighted that you appeared to have done this right despite being slightly weirded out about it at first. When you released her, she dropped down onto the bed, completely out of breath. You lay down on your side next to her and studied her face closely. Her eyes were squeezed shut and you ran your fingers up and down her jaw as she caught her breath.

“Gimme a sec…”

You saw her swallow hard, her throat no doubt having gone dry. You got up off the bed and giggled when you looked down. Seeing that huge silicone dildo swaying about with every step that you took really looked hilarious. When you reached the table, you were ready to struggle with attempting to open the champagne before noticing that she’d already taken care of that. There were two glasses filled with the sparkly liquid standing right next to it.

When you turned back around, you saw that she was gone and that he was now laying on the bed in her place. You briefly frowned, sad that you hadn’t gotten a chance to say goodbye before realising that they were one and the same person. You heard him laughing from the bed when you walked back with the glass in your hands.

“What’s so funny?”

“You are.” You sat down next to him and waited until he’d pushed himself up into a sitting position before handing him the glass. He emptied the glass in one big sip. “Wanting to say goodbye.”

“I just forgot. Until earlier I thought that you were nothing but a figment of my imagination.”

“Oh no.” He threw the glass across the room and it bounced off the wall before rolling onto the floor. He looked down at your lap and flicked his fingers against the strap-on. “I’m very real.”

“Can you help me get this thing off?”

“Or you could keep it on.” He flashed you a quick and very dirty smile. “I’d let you peg me.”

You almost choked when you tried to imagine what that would look like and blurted out a quick, “One thing at a time please.”

“Spoilsport.” He tapped a finger on the harness and then it was gone. “You’d be pretty good at it, you know. Pull my hair a couple of times and I’m yours to do with as you please.” Before you could reply to that, he put an arm around your waist and pulled you back onto the bed. Moving you onto your back, he knocked all the air out of your lungs when he suddenly got on top of you and pinned your hands up above your head. “But I promised to do something else anyway. So I win anyway.”

He kept true to his word and fucked you with such ferocity afterwards that when you finally woke up the following morning, it was a damn miracle that you were even able to walk at all. And all that just because of a dream. In the many more dreams that followed afterwards, the woman made an appearance on more than one occasion. On some nights you would just get her and other times he would turn into her while he had his mouth on your pussy. You were never entirely sure about how the entire thing even worked. He wasn’t merely something that your horny mind had come up with one night. No, he was indeed very real.

A couple of months into this very odd arrangement, where he would satisfy your every desire while you were asleep, you were at the beach with your friends. They were convinced that you were seeing someone even if you always said that you weren’t. Maybe this little weekend getaway was a ploy to get more information out of you, but how could you possibly tell them that you’d met someone in your dreams? You’d sound like a bloody lunatic.

When the four of you were looking for a spot to spread out your beach towels, you passed two guys. One was sitting underneath a parasol, dressed in a black t-shirt and black shorts, making sure that no part of him even got out of the shade that was provided by the large umbrella over his head. He was scowling at another young man with long blonde wavy hair who was sitting next to him, strumming a blue ukulele.

Your small group settled down a couple of feet away from them and stripped down to the bathing suits that you wore underneath your clothes. You were wearing a red triangle bikini, somehow now also favouring the colour since your dreams were constantly bathed in it. Your friends headed down towards the water while you sat down on your towel and started reading the romance novel that you’d brought with you.

After a couple of minutes, you realised that you had completely stopped paying attention to what you were reading but were instead focusing entirely on the young man a couple of feet behind you who had started singing. You instantly recognised the song that he was singing. It was the song that the sirens sang to Odysseus in the Odyssey. You were so hypnotised by the song, that you’d completely forgotten about your surroundings. It wasn’t until something slammed into your upper arm that the spell was broken. Your head whipped to the side and you saw a frisbee laying next to you in the sand.

“My bad!” A voice called out to you and you picked the piece of plastic up to hold it out to whoever was approaching you. “I am so sorry! I should have caught that.”

“No problem. Not like I’m…” As soon as you looked up the words died in your throat and you instead stared at the young man who was now standing next to you with wide eyes. “Wait…”

“Well, this is a surprise.” He dropped down onto his knees next to you in the sand, a huge smile plastered all over his face, and he took the frisbee from your hands. “Definitely wasn’t expecting this.” For some reason, you reached out and poked a finger against his chest. You half expected that your mind was playing some kind of trick on you, as if your finger was going to pass right through him, but it didn’t. “See? Real.”

“Serk!” Another voice called out and he tore his eyes away from yours to look at whoever it was that had called his name. “Stop hitting on girls and toss the frisbee back!”

“I’m done playing!” He threw the frisbee back which the other guy effortlessly caught. “Tell Sigurd to play with you before he drowns someone with his singing.”

“Fine! But you owe me.” He winked at you and turned around to join the other two guys that you had passed when you had just arrived. Your eyes were drawn to his back or to be more specific to the long braid that swung back and forth as he walked away.

“Stop checking out my brother.” You blinked and turned your attention back on him. “You want me to introduce you? I mean, if you’d rather want to spend time with him than me…”

“What? No!” He chuckled when your words came out louder than you intended. “Not funny.” He ran a hand down your arm, mirroring the same thing that he’d often do in your dreams. “He called you Serk. Is that your name?”

“Short for Hvitserk.” He held out his hand to you. “And what’s your name?”

“Y/N,” you replied when you took his hand in yours. He repeated your name with a warm smile. “I erm… this is weird…”

“Is it?” He let your hand go and got to his feet. You panicked slightly, thinking that he might leave, when he suddenly extended his hand to you. “Come on. I wanna buy you a drink.”

“And then what?”

“I dunno,” he said with a shrug when he pulled you up off the ground. “Sit with me. Talk. I know you, but that’s the dream you and now I want to know the real you. That okay?”

“Sure.” He started pulling you along to the beach bars a short distance away. “I’d like that.”

*****

And this moodboard is based on when I described female Hvitserk coming out of the bathroom.

[timelesslords]

Girl’s Night

Read on AO3

In which Annabeth has a little too much wine at Girl's Night and feels very guilty about it. Thankfully, Percy doesn't mind taking her home.

Annabeth Chase was very good at holding her alcohol.

In all honesty it was mostly because she didn’t drink that much to begin with. Being drunk had never been all that appealing to her— years of being on edge for the next fight made it difficult for her to intentionally dull her senses, and she never liked how foggy it made her brain either. Living in New Rome for the past few years hadn’t completely squashed those instincts, despite its top of the line anti-monster security.

But still. Annabeth could keep it together pretty well, when she chose to indulge. She’d gone to a few wild parties earlier in college, mostly at Piper’s behest, and she didn’t mind having a few glasses of wine every once in a while.

Girl’s Night was every once in a while. Every first Friday of the month, if you wanted to be exact about it. In all honesty the practice was probably a bit dumb and middle aged for a bunch of people (and, okay, ‘a bunch of people’ was generous- it was really only Piper, Annabeth and Hazel) in their early twenties, but Annabeth didn’t care. It was hard to keep up with people these days, and Annabeth appreciated the emphasis on female camaraderie and friendship.

Plus, Piper had really stellar taste in wine.

Tonight’s had been especially good, and after a long and stupidly stressful week at school (Annabeth wished she could emulate Percy’s senioritis, but unfortunately the Architecture program only got harder as it went on, not easier) Annabeth found herself a little extra appreciative of the relaxing effects of alcohol.

It seemed like all of them had had a tough week, because they were all buzzed pretty fast. Piper was even happy to deliver the latest Hollywood gossip, courtesy of her dad, and Hazel was telling them a story about a probie getting stuck in the unicorn stables that made Annabeth laugh so hard she was practically sobbing. Piper and Hazel were not much better; Piper had completely fallen off the couch from cracking up so hard, and Hazel could barely get a word in edgewise before she completely dissolved into giggles again.

It was then that Annabeth caught a glance of the two completely empty bottles of wine in front of them, and realized that all of them— though mostly she, specifically— had made a grave mistake. She had no idea how many times her own glass had been filled and then subsequently emptied, but it was enough that she was well past tipsy and solidly in drunk territory.

It was hard to care about the bad parts of being drunk when you were currently drunk, Annabeth was finding. Everything was just so much funnier.

Apparently Jason had also sensed that they were drunk, or maybe he just had heard the deranged cackling coming from the living room, and wanted to make sure they were all still alive.

“Are you guys alright?” he asked, sticking his head through the doorway.

“I’m fantastic. I mean, I don’t know about you two, but I am—” Piper paused, letting out a small hiccup, “Feeling awesome.”

“I feel great,” Hazel agreed, barely able to stop laughing long enough to let the words out.

Annabeth wasn’t sure she remembered how to form coherent words anymore, so she just gave a thumbs up.

“You guys are really drunk,” Jason said, voice an impressive mix of concern and amusement. He walked into the room, picking up one of the empty bottles of wine they’d left on the table and examining the label.

“That’s my man. Very smart,” Piper said, apparently completely seriously, leaning against Jason’s leg.

“Pipes, you realize this wine is like, 20%, right?” Jason asked, ignoring her declaration of his intelligence.

Piper frowned. The expression seemed very exaggerated, or maybe Annabeth’s head was just messing with her. It was very funny either way, and she had to stifle a laugh.

“Shut up Annabeth. Let me see that,” Piper said, holding her hand up for the bottle. Jason very wisely did not let Piper hold the bottle herself, instead holding it at eye level in front of her. She gripped the bottom of it, pulling it towards her and squinting at the label.

“Nevermind. I can’t read anymore,” Piper said, relinquishing her grip on the bottle. That sent Hazel and Annabeth into another fit of laughter. They would probably be drunk even if the wine wasn’t that strong, but it certainly explained why Annabeth felt like she was floating right now. She hadn’t been this wasted since at least freshman year, maybe ever. Everything was a little blurry at the edges, and she was dizzy in a kind of delightful way. She let out one last giggle.

“And that means we are officially at the me-calling-your-boyfriends time of the night,” Jason said, setting the bottle back down on the table. Piper groaned.

“Party pooper,” she grumbled, though she didn’t move herself off his legs.

“Sorry babe,” he said, apologetically, “You guys are welcome to crash here, obviously. I’ll just call Frank and Percy to let them know.”

“S’fine,” Hazel said, yawning and pulling out her phone, “I’ve been texting him. I’ll just tell him now.”

“That’s against the spirit of Girls Night.” Piper said, pointing an accusing finger at Hazel, “You’re a cheater.”

“I had to tell him about your dad’s friend secretly dating his co-star! She was in his favorite movie!” Hazel protested.

Annabeth had not texted Percy tonight, in part because, as Piper had said, it was against the spirit of Girl’s Night, but also because he was probably asleep. Usually he’d stay up and wait for her to get home, even though New Rome was probably the safest city on the face of the planet, and the chances of anything happening to Annabeth on the six block walk between their respective apartments was ludicrously slim. But he’d been practically dead on his feet when she left, and had agreed pretty easily to turn in early when she suggested it.

She immediately felt bad about the prospect of waking him up. She knew she should though— he’d much rather be woken up in the middle of the night than wake up in the morning with her not there. Even though it would take about three seconds to check his phone and realize everything was fine, old habits die hard and it would unnecessarily stress him out. Especially since it was the one night he’d agreed not to stay up and wait for her.

So waking him up was inevitable. Worse, she was starting to realize that she really wanted to be home with him. As comfortable as Piper’s floor was (and given how drunk Annabeth was, it was genuinely pretty comfortable) she just really wanted to be in her own bed, preferably with Percy also in it.

“Annabeth’s gonna want to go home,” Piper predicted, drawing Annabeth out of her thoughts, “She gets boyfriend clingy when she’s drunk.”

“I do not,” Annabeth said, even though she most definitely did.

“You’re a bad liar,” Hazel said, patting Annabeth’s leg sympathetically.

“I’m an excellent liar,” Annabeth said. Under normal circumstances this would be true. Unfortunately being drunk was not normal for her.

“Uh huh.” Piper said, “Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want Percy to come pick you up.”

Annabeth looked into Piper’s eyes, currently a very pretty green shade. Not as pretty as the shade of green Percy’s eyes were, but nice, for eyes that were not Percy’s. What was she supposed to be doing again?

“This feels like a trick,” Annabeth said, squinting.

“She wants Percy to pick her up,” Piper said, tugging at Jason’s pant leg.

“Yeah, I got that,” Jason said. Annabeth was pretty sure he was laughing at them, but in her current state it was a little hard to tell. “Let me go get my phone.”

Piper whined as Jason walked away, leaning back against the couch.

“Can you even walk, Chase?” she asked, looking dubiously at Annabeth “He’s going to have to carry you home.”

“I can walk,” Annabeth said, very offended even though she didn’t entirely know if her statement was true. Piper snorted.

“You’re lucky Percy is strong.”

“This is all your fault, McLean. Don’t think I’ve forgotten,” Annabeth said, aiming a soft kick at Piper’s leg.

“Okay, in my defense I didn’t read the label,” Piper said, pulling her leg back just in time to avoid Annabeth’s foot.

“How is that a defense?” Hazel asked, though she was giggling.

Piper did not have time to further defend and/or implicate herself, because Jason appeared in the doorway again.

“Percy’s coming, he’ll be here in ten.”

“Was he mad?” Annabeth asked anxiously. Piper rolled her eyes.

“I don’t think Percy is physically capable of being mad at you,” she said.

“He thought it was funny, actually,” Jason said, ignoring Piper.

“Told you so,” Piper said smugly.

“Shut up,” Annabeth grumbled.

The next ten minutes passed in a very drunken blur. Now that she had fully realized she was intoxicated, the feeling only seemed to compound, each uncounted drink catching up to her with a reckless abandon. She was vaguely aware of Piper crawling back on the couch to lie down, and Hazel curling up in an armchair. Annabeth just stayed on her little patch of floor. If she got too comfortable, she wasn’t going to want to get up.

She could feel something anxious starting to prickle under the surface of all her artificially happy feelings, but it was sort of difficult to dissect when she couldn’t really think straight.

“Hey, Wise Girl,” a familiar voice said.

Annabeth looked up to see Percy smiling down at her. He looked so pretty she almost started crying. Almost. Crying as a normal human function was fine and good and emotionally necessary and all that, but crying because you were drunk and your boyfriend was hot was just embarrassing.

“I’m drunk,” she told him. Might as well get right to the point.

“Yeah, I gathered,” he said, still looking at her with entirely too much affection, “You feel okay enough to walk home?”

“Yeah. I wanna walk,” Annabeth said, accepting his hand and pulling herself to his feet. If he hadn’t been holding her she probably would have fallen over.

“You sure about that?” he asked skeptically, putting his other hand around her waist, steadying her. She leaned into him, because she always leaned into him, and yeah, okay, maybe she needed his support to walk straight, but what about it.

“Very sure,” Annabeth said. Already she was adjusting to being on her feet. Percy half looked like he wanted to protest, but making it out of the living room seemed to convince him that she was okay to at least make it a few blocks home.

Sitting down on the bench in the front hall to put her shoes on was somehow worse than walking. She managed to shove her shoes into her sneakers, but getting them tied was probably not going to happen.

“I can’t remember how shoelaces work,” Annabeth admitted, looking up at him, “Does that mean I’m screwed?”

“Well, there’s good news and there’s bad news,” Percy said, leaning down to tie her shoe for her. Annabeth shut her eyes tight, then opened them again, trying very hard to focus out her vision. It didn’t work.

“What’s the bad news?” Annabeth asked, because bad news tended to ruin good news, and she’d rather just get it out of the way.

“You’re going to be very hungover tomorrow.” Percy said, straightening up. She thought he was smiling, but considering there were two of his head floating around in front of her, it was kind of hard to tell.

“Are you laughing at me?” Annabeth asked. He was definitely smiling now.

“I would never,” Percy said, wrapping an arm around her waist, “C’mon, lets go.”

Their goodbye was not as extended or elaborate as Annabeth expected, mostly because Piper and Hazel were already half-way to being passed out. Still, there were some waves, some I-love-yous and a partially incoherent apology from Piper, though who it was aimed at was something of a mystery.

Stairs were just a bit tricky, but she managed to stumble down them without seriously injuring herself. She was sure Percy helped somehow, but she could barely tell the difference between his arms supporting her and her own movement.

“What’s the good news?” Annabeth asked, once they were safely on the sidewalk, heading in the direction of her apartment. It was probably cold, but between Percy’s body heat next to her and her own drunkenness, she could barely feel it.

“You haven’t thrown up?” Percy offered, half-heartedly. Annabeth swallowed down a gag.

“Don’t say those words again,” she warned. Percy winced.

“Right. Sorry.”

“That wasn’t even good news, that was irrelevant news,”

“I think it’s excellent news, personally.” Percy said. He was laughing at her again, probably, but she also probably deserved it. Probably. She was wrapped under his shoulder because his arm was still helping hold her up, so it was kind of hard to see his face. She focused her eyes down at the sidewalk in front of her instead, focusing on not tripping.

“You would,” Annabeth said, “You didn’t have good news, did you?”

“I was sort of hoping you would forget,” Percy admitted.

“I never forget,” Annabeth reminded him. She had an excellent memory. Especially for things that had happened only 2 minutes ago. Admittedly the rest of the night was already starting to get a little blurry.

“I’m sorry for doubting you,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

Annabeth felt a small stab of guilt. He was teasing her, sure, but he was also being stupid nice even after she’d dragged him out of bed in the middle of the night to practically carry her intoxicated self back home.

And now she was remembering where that little wiggle of anxiety had been stemming from. He didn’t like being around drunk people. He never really said anything, because he was him and thus was probably allergic to the mere thought of even mildly killing anyone else’s fun for his own personal comfort or convenience. But she knew him well enough that he didn’t need to say anything. He’d never taken up Piper’s offer to go partying with them, even though he encouraged Annabeth to go when she’d wanted to, and he hardly ever drank himself. Even then it was only in social situations, and usually just one drink that he probably didn’t even feel.

So maybe he hadn’t flat out said he didn’t like people being wasted around him, but he had told her about Gabe; how he was a drunk, abusive asshole. It wasn’t too hard to put the pieces together.

“I’m sorry I got drunk,” Annabeth said. It was kind of a lame apology considering she was probably slurring her words a good amount, but she meant it anyways.

She felt something shift in his demeanor— if she was sober, she would know instantly what the slight change in pressure meant. As it was, she was kind of in the dark.

“Why are you sorry?” he asked. She thought he sounded surprised, but maybe she was mishearing, because it would be dumb for him to be surprised by that. At the very least, he should understand she felt bad about ruining his night.

“Because, I got messy and you had to wake up and take me home even though I could have just slept on Piper’s floor,” Annabeth said. Words were sort of flowing out of her without her completely approving them, in a jumbled rush. She didn’t like it, but she couldn’t quite remember how to stop it either.

“I don’t mind,” he said, just as she’d known he would. He meant it too, even drunk off her ass she could tell he wasn’t annoyed at her at all, even though he would be totally justified to be.

“But I could have just slept on the floor,” Annabeth repeated, though even the thought caused her to lean deeper into him.

Percy slowed his pace, almost stopping. Annabeth tried looking up at him to decipher what he was thinking, but she couldn’t really make out his face well enough to tell.

“This isn’t just about waking me up, isn’t it?” he asked.

Ugh. Why did she forget in her drunken stupor that he knew her just as well as she knew him? Obviously he was going to pick up on something deeper that was making her feel guilty.

“I just—” Annabeth started, then stopped. It was difficult to pick words precisely enough for the thoughts she was having.

“I know you don’t really like parties and stuff. Or drunk people. And I’m a drunk people right now, so I’m sorry.”

Great job, Annabeth, Annabeth thought to herself. Very delicately put. The lack of subject verb agreement, that was a nice touch. You didn’t sound completely fucked up even a little bit.

God, she hated being drunk.

“I didn’t want you to wake up alone, tomorrow,” Annabeth said, trying again, “But I forgot that me being drunk might be worse, so that's why I feel bad.”

Percy stopped walking. At first Annabeth thought it was in response to what she’d just said, but then she realized they were in front of their apartment building.

Then she realized he wasn’t making any moves to go inside, so it was about what she’d said after all. Instead he turned her around so she could see his face, keeping his arms around her waist in support.

She couldn’t quite read his expression, yet another reason why alcohol was the devil.

“I have a feeling we’re going to need to repeat this conversation in the morning when you’re sober,” he started, “But just for the record, you being drunk doesn’t make me uncomfortable at all.”

Annabeth studied his expression, searching his face for any signs of mistruth. She found none, but she also couldn’t entirely trust her senses at the moment.

“Are you just saying that?” Annabeth asked, suspiciously, “Because that’s the sort of thing you would lie about.”

She had sort of expected him to sigh in annoyance, but to her surprise he smiled instead.

“I’m not lying, I swear.”

“But you don’t like other drunk people,” Annabeth insisted. For some reason the two ideas could not coexist in her mind.

“I don’t like drunk strangers,” he corrected, “You’re not a stranger.”

“Well, duh,” Annabeth said, which made him laugh. She hadn’t meant to, but she liked hearing him laugh, so she would accept it anyways.

“But doesn’t it— I don’t know, bring up bad memories, for you?” she asked, cautiously, “I don’t wanna do that. I don’t even really like being drunk.”

He just shook his head.

“If it did, I would tell you. But it doesn’t, I swear.”

Annabeth frowned. It was probably just her stupid wine brain, but she couldn’t quite connect the dots between all the points he was making.

“Why?” she asked.

“Because,” he said, somehow still smiling, “You’re you.”

“That’s a lame answer.” Annabeth said.

“It’s true,” he said, in that stupid earnest honest voice of his, “I mean, maybe if you started throwing beer cans at my head when you got tipsy it’d be different, but you’re the opposite of aggressive when you’re drunk. You actually get really cuddly, it's kind of cute.”

Annabeth knew he was trying to comfort her, but she also knew that Gabe had done a lot worse than throw beer cans at him. She felt a surge of anger on his behalf, but more powerfully a wave of sadness looking at his upbeat expression. It was so supremely unfair that she wanted to cry, but she just hugged him instead. She was probably proving his point about being cuddly, but she didn’t even care.

“I’m so glad your mom made him into a statue,” she mumbled into his chest.

“Me too,” Percy said, resting his chin on the top of her head.

“I love you so much,” Annabeth said, because she really, really did. Like so much. An embarrassing amount, if she were capable of feeling embarrassed about anything having to do with Percy Jackson, which she was pretty sure was impossible.

“I love you too,” he said, kissing the top of her head to prove it.

“Piper said I get boyfriend clingy when I’m drunk,” Annabeth admitted. He laughed, his chest vibrating beneath her.

“She might be right about that.”

“She’s usually right about things,” Annabeth said, without thinking. Then—

“Don’t tell her I said that.”

He laughed again, but it was quieter. She felt it more than she heard it this time.

“Your secret is safe with me,” he promised.

“I’m sorry I woke you up,” Annabeth said, because she really did feel bad about that, even beyond all the other stuff, “I should have paid more attention to what I was doing.”

She felt him shrug underneath her.

“Stuff happens, it's not a big deal,” Percy said easily, “We’ll just sleep in tomorrow. Speaking of, we should probably go inside.”

As soon as he said ‘go inside’ Annabeth’s brain suddenly registered that she was exhausted. It was late, her head was swimming, and his chest had been very warm and very comfortable. She’d fallen half asleep without even realizing it.

“Inside sounds good,” Annabeth agreed, yawning.

“C’mon, I’ll carry you the rest of the way,” Percy said, finally pulling away, brushing a few stray curls out of her eyes.

Maybe if she had been sober she would have protested. As it was she was pretty happy to climb on his back and rest her head on his shoulder. He looped his arms under her legs and lifted her up easily. Gods, he was stupidly strong. She should appreciate that more.

“I love you,” she mumbled one last time into his shoulder. Whether he’d heard or responded was a mystery to her, because she was asleep before he finished climbing the stairs.

[butterysalt]

Fun | Sherlock x platonic!Reader

Pairing: Sherlock x platonic!gender neutral reader

Request ( @a-paper-cut​ ): 

Word Count: 2,202

Contains: Mentions of child abduction, platonic fluffiness and banter :)

A/N: AAAAAAA thank you so much, lovely! This was my first request and I was SUPER excited to write it hehe. I’ve been on a slight creative block lately and I enjoyed writing this so much. I hope this fic does justice for what you wanted and I hope that you are doing amazingly 🧡🧡

It was an early, snowy winter morning in London. You and Sherlock Holmes have been mind-boggled by a puzzling case for the past week. The detective proposed that the two of you go on a walk to allow some fresh air in the brains again. This suggested that even his extensive mind palace and composing weren’t helping the genius. Not that you were complaining about sharing a nice stroll with Sherlock. It had been years after all since you two had spent any casual time together. Like what people normally did in their free time, anyway.

The two of you stepped side by side, feet planting in the thin sheet of snow on the ground in unison. You grinned a little at the matched body language. You and Sherlock always had special ways to subtly communicate with one another. It was like a part of your minds were connected.

“Anything yet?” the tall brunette questioned. Your lip twitched upward. “Don’t rush the process, Sherlock. Just enjoy the moment. Live in it a little.” Sherlock’s long drawl could be heard next to you. His walking strides were growing longer as his patience began to thin out. You could practically hear the subtle gnawing of his teeth.

“We’ve only been walking 5 minutes,” you flouted, “Loosen up a bit.” Sherlock snickered to himself, messing with his gloved hands. “You’re already trying to read me?”

“You’re walking like you’ve got a stick up your arse. It’s clear you’re agitated,” you jested. The curly-haired detective sneered at you and kicked a clump of ice out of the way. “I can’t think, Y/n. We have potential homicide to solve and we’re here drudging in the snow.”

“Remember, this was your idea, genius. Unless you can come up with something else, this is all we’ve got.” Sherlock went silent, chewing the inside of his cheek. His mind wandered to try and come up with something snarky to throw at you. Perhaps a witty comeback that would leave you in doubt. The headache he was dealing with was enough to strike him in his train of thought. He shook it off and his focus returned to the matter of urgency. Unsolved case.

Sherlock lifted his face to the sky, blowing a hot cloud of breath into the chilly London air. He tugged his scarf a little closer to his neck, shoving his gloved hands down into his thick coat. The breath cloud was a common habit of Sherlock’s during cold weather. It mimicked the effect of blowing cigarette smoke, just without the tar and nicotine. Fortunately, the only time the detective abused drugs anymore was when cases had him horribly stumped; thanks to you and John’s efforts, his drug use was much more controlled now.

“Five missing children. All between the ages of 7 and 9. We know that the connection is tied to their private schools. Three different religious private schools within a 10 kilometer radius — so, fairly close together. The parents reported their children coming home with expensive gifts from a mysterious donor shortly before they went missing. They referred to the perpetrator as ‘Ray’. Anyone handing out shiny trinkets to naive children is either a philanthropist or a predator. I’d like to bet on the latter.”

You sighed, mentally reviewing all of the evidence from the case in your head. “But all of the children knew basic safety protocols: don’t talk to strangers, never accept anything from strangers, the whole package. Their parents are terribly traditional. They never would have let any of them see the light if they broke any of those rules. So the chances are near impossible that they would have fallen for such typical child abduction tricks.”

“Near impossible, L/n. That means there’s still a possibility and possible is all we need to screw this up,” Sherlock tutted. He blew another large cloud of air, shaking some light snow off his curls. You frowned, “The suspects. We’ve interrogated the popes, teachers, parents… who are we missing?”

Sherlock stopped walking. You turned to check up on him, finding him with his eyes shut. “Maybe we’re asking the wrong questions…”

“Of course we’re asking the wrong questions! We have all the pieces in our hands but no instructions, Sherlock. We’re running in circles with this case,” you walked over to a public railing, leaning against it and looking out across the long white blanket that stretched to the horizon.

He joined your side shortly after, bending down to pick up some rocks to toss down the snowy hill and watch as they made skinny trails in the frosty powder. Sherlock sighed out, exasperated and worn out. “We’re not getting anywhere by mulling over it, are we?”

You smiled at him and shook your head. You pulled your coat a little tighter around yourself. “That’s why I’m here to keep you in check. It’s good to get some air, you know? Christ knows when’s the last time you did that simply because you wanted to.”

Sherlock’s eyebrow perked up and he faced you with a blank expression. “How do you mean?” Your eyes widened a little, unsure of how you should pick out your next words. “Well… you know, you don’t exactly, uh…” Nervously, your eyes flicked up to his. He was watching your expression very carefully.

“You don’t spend a lot of time for yourself,” you said simply. Sherlock frowned in disagreement. “I spend a lot of time by myself. I thought you knew me better than that,” he teased.

You rolled your eyes, leaning your back against the cold railing now, crossing your arms. “In your mind palace, Sherlock. I mean you don’t do things you enjoy.”

“Who said I don’t enjoy things?” he countered your query. You found yourself forming a cold sweat, debating on how to deliver your message. “Hobbies?”

“Violin.”

“Meh. Parties?”

“You disturb me.” Your best friend’s disgust made you cackle. “See, that’s my point! You don’t know how to have fun anymore. What happened to old Sherlock?”

Now this was a personal offense against Sherlock. “What? You don’t think I’m fun?” Sherlock sounded incredibly appalled by your claim. A hot cloud of air rose to the sky when you scoffed.

“Holmes, you are probably the farthest thing when it comes to the definition of fun!”

“Well, probability-wise, that’s highly improbable when Mycroft exists.”

“His poshness makes up for it. You’re just irritating.” Sherlock puffed out his red cheeks, nudging you playfully. “Oh, come on. You must admit that I’m at least an interesting character?”

You pondered in fake thought, scrunching your face together. “Interesting is debatable. Fun? That’s foreign territory, Sherlock.” The tall man grimaced deeply at your bluntness that he clearly had issues with. “What do you mean by ‘Old Sherlock’? What was good about the ‘old me’? I consider myself much more refined in the present day.”

Old memories of the two of you hanging out with one another as teenagers came back to you. A smile melted on your face from the warm feelings of nostalgia, the chilliness from the snowfall leaving your body.

“You used to prank Mycroft all the time. Everything was always a competition with you and me; we would go from racing down the neighborhood to reach my house first or rush to finish homework and claim the telly before the other could. Oh! We would always make up fake cases, too, trying to entertain a mystery that didn’t even exist,” you laughed to yourself, “Look at us now.”

Sherlock grumbled at the reminder of your old shenanigans. He wasn’t always the fondest of his younger self. But he had to admit he was reckless, even as a child. It was a simpler time and kids didn’t have much to fret or fear.

“Now you’re all enigmatic and stoic with your flipped up coat collar and scary cheekbones. The difference is so disappointing, it’s sickening,” you gagged. Sherlock slipped off his glove and jabbed his freezing hand against your neck, making you exclaim at the coldness and shove him backward. He wore a victorious smirk at your suffering. You pointed a hard finger at him, holding back your own laughter to prove a point.

“NO, that’s not being fun, Sherlock. That’s torture- sadism! You’re just an arse!” He threw his arms in the air, tossing his glove in your face. “It’s subjective! I can be fun,” he insisted.

“You’re predictable, Holmes. You don’t remember what good humor is and it shows in your actions. You pick everything up from books and telly. You can’t surprise me anymore,” you declared. Sherlock’s expression contorted into shock as he stared at you in disbelief. You had left the great Sherlock Holmes baffled. The silence was deafening — music to your ears.

When you thought you were winning this argument, a special glint quickly shone in Sherlock’s eyes. Your expression dropped and then you were pushed backward. There was no railing behind you anymore to catch you.

As you were falling, you naturally grasped for something to hold on to. In this case, Sherlock’s coat. The evil smirk on his face was immediately replaced with shock then fear as he was crashing hard into you. Gravity did the rest of the work. With the momentum you had already begun, dragging Sherlock down with you was one of the worst possible outcomes of the situation. A crude curse slipped past his lips and both of you latched onto each other because there was nothing else to brace with.

What was initially meant to be a playful fall down the snowy hill turned into a rolling battle full of frantic thrashing and screaming as both of your bodies thumped and tangled with each other. The two of you occasionally bounced a few inches off the ground and crashed back into the ground, knocking the breath out of both of you. The wild human avalanche down the hill was finally put to a stop when you rolled into a tree. With a loud OOMPH, you and Sherlock flopped into the ground, groaning and croaking in pain. Neither of you moved for the first passing moments, unable to process what just happened.

Your fall was broken when you landed on top of Sherlock, his body sprawled out in the cold snow, rasping heavily. Some snow fell off your form and your arms shook as you propped yourself up, no longer caring about the fact that you applied all the pressure in your friend’s ribs.

“You alright, mate?” you panted, checking up on Sherlock, eyes analyzing him for any serious injuries.

“You take my breath away.” You sputtered and shook your head at his ridiculous humor. “Aren’t you just romantic?” He squinted his eyes and flashed a sarcastic smile but groaned out, “No, really. Please get off my chest.”

“Oh God, sorry,” you scrambled off of him and he rolled over into the snow, gasping for air as he clutched his side in pain. You punched him in the shoulder. “You bloody twat, Sherlock Holmes! Pushing me down a hill by Jove’s sake!”

“I remember it being much more fun when we were younger,” he grunted out, pushing himself onto his forearms. And just then, his eyes burst wide open. His face slack-jawed as his brain computed at top speed. He was onto something.

“Sherlo-”

“FUN, Y/n,” he articulated, scrambling over to you and grabbing you by the shoulders. You stiffened and backed away, startled by his abrupt realization. 

“Oh, Y/n, you are brilliant! This is why we work together!”

“What?! What are you-”

“The kids were abducted because they were having fun! ‘Ray’ is Remus Stooge, another private school kid in the area. The Stooge family owns several of the land plots around this corner of London and they’re the ones funding all three schools — The Stooge’s are plenty wealthy. The children were going to Remus’s home, ditching class time to get a personal house tour of his daddy’s money. The fancy car rides, luxurious delights, shiny sneakers and tailored clothing… Who wouldn’t pass up on an opportunity like that? It only makes sense why they were lured in so easily! Their rich best pal Remus has been the one inviting them right into the trap!”

“What- Sherlock! Where is this all coming from?! How do you even-”

“Trust me, Y/n!! I have it figured out- It all makes sense!” he interjected again. The look on your faces was bizarre. You tossed a handful of snow at him as he blocked it with his hands. “NO?? It doesn’t! This is so sudden-”

Sherlock was on his feet in an instant, brushing off the powder from his coat and yanking you up. His eyes were gleaming with excitement. “We have to go tell Lestrade, now! Call John and get over to the Stooge’s place!”

“To arrest the kid?!”

“No, the butler!” He grabbed your gloved hand and dragged you up the steep white hill. You shook your head wildly, “Holmes, you better have a bloody good explanation for this in the cab or there will be hell to pay.” Sherlock smirked triumphantly and squeezed your hand.

“Come, L/n! The game is on!”

Requests are open! <3

[tuiccim]

Terrigenisis (Part 17)

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Bucky Barnes X Inhuman!Reader

Words: 1700

Summary: After undergoing terrigenisis unwillingly your life is turned upside down when you are deemed too dangerous to return to life as a civilian. You are put with the Avengers team to train and rebuild. As you hone your powers and skills, you must also decide if you can find home and love again. Or is your curse to be a lonely wanderer forever?

Warnings: a god of Mischief (He’s a warning, okay?)

Terrigenisis Series Masterlist       Divider by @firefly-graphics

You lounged on the lawn furniture in the back of the compound watching Dizzy run in joyful circles as Redtail made loops overhead. You had brought a tennis ball out and Dizzy was adorable as she ran around with it in her mouth. Occasionally, she’d drop it in your laugh and you’d throw it out into the expanse of lawn. You laughed as she leapt into action each time the ball was thrown. Redtail would swoop down every now and then to tease the dog. 

The rest of the team was out on missions or meetings. Sam, Steve, and Bucky had been sent on a mission yesterday afternoon and you were enjoying some down time. It felt like it had been some time since it had happened. You stretched lazily, basking in the feel of the sun on your skin and the feeling of contentment. 

You hear footsteps approaching and turn to see Loki walking towards you. He had been in a meeting with Thor, Tony, and Maria Hill when you had checked earlier. 

“Hi. How’d the meeting go?” You greet the god. 

“It went well. Nothing of grave importance,” Loki takes the chair next to you, “What are you up to?”

“Relaxing in this glorious weather,” you see his eyes take in your tank top, jean shorts, and sandals. “You know, I’ve never seen you in anything except the leather. Is there casual wear on Asgard?”

“Simple tunics and robes but, as prince and warrior, I do not wear them often.” Loki raises an eyebrow at you. 

“I see. What about for Tony’s party this weekend? Will you wear this?” you motion to his attire.

“I plan to wear a suit.” Loki chuckles. 

“I look forward to seeing that. Isn’t the leather hot though? It’s 80 today.” 

“I could strip for you if you’d like.” Loki smirks playfully. 

“That’s okay,” you hold your hands up in defeat. 

“Is this better?” Loki’s form shimmers for a moment before revealing him in bermuda shorts and hawaiin shirt. 

You grin, “I like it! You look ready for a beach vacation.” You stare at Loki for a moment, wondering about his personal life. He knew a lot about you but rarely revealed much about himself. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, darling. Anything.”

“Do you have… someone? Here or on Asgard or… somewhere?” you stammer through the question. 

“Your two lovers are not enough for you?” Loki chuckles. 

“They’re plenty for me. You don’t talk about yourself much, Lok. I mean, you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to but I’m curious about you. We’re friends and so I wonder, is there someone? Are you a player? Are you a monk? You know my story. You haven’t given me much of yours. Have you ever been in love?”

Loki studies you for a moment and then nods as if deciding something to himself, “I suppose I would be what you Midgardians refer to as a player.”

“Love ‘em and leave ‘em?” you giggle. 

“I suppose. There’s only ever been one person who…” Loki trails off. 

“Who what?” 

“Who I thought I could fall for.”

“What happened?” You question. 

“She belongs to another.” Loki says as he looks away. 

“She belongs only to herself.” You counter. 

“Of course. She’s engaged to another.” 

“I’m sorry.” You tell him. 

“Thank you.” Loki pauses to contemplate before asking, “Are you happy? You’ve been through a lot in your short life.”

You smile at the statement, “I’m not that young, Loki.”

“I’m over 1000 years old.” Loki deadpans. 

“True,” you laugh, amazed at the lifespan of Asgardians, “Yes. I am happy. This isn’t what I imagined my life to be. Terrigenisis tore my world apart but you make the best of what you have. I have a family in the team, lovers in Steve and Bucky, friends, a purpose. This is… home.”

“And I’m your friend?” Loki asks. 

“Of course you are.”

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll betray you at some point? I mean, I am notorious.” 

“I trust you, Loki. I think I know your heart, but understand that I live by the statement, ‘Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.’ I may let someone make a fool of me once but I won’t let them a second time. Once you lose my trust, it’s gone and would take a great deal to earn it back,” you explain. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I have to trust you. I’m letting you play with my brain.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Giving me a chance. Trusting me. Seeing me as something other than the villain that I was.”

“You’re more than your past. Oh!” you exclaim when a slobber covered ball is dropped in your lap. “Hi Dizz.” you laugh and throw the ball for her. 

“She has you well trained.” Loki smirks. 

“That she does. Speaking of training, are you up for another session?” you ask. 

“Same time as always, darling. I’ll see you then.” Loki gets up. 

“See ya later, friend,” you watch as Loki walks back to the building, dropping the glamour to reveal his normal outfit as he walks. He sends you a brief wave before walking into the building. Your attention is pulled away when Dizzy drops the ball in your lap again. Time to play. 

--

You get to the training room early to do some climbing and ended up in the rafters as you were known to do. You were just about to climb down when Loki entered with Thor trailing behind him. 

“Drop it, brother,” Loki grouses at him. 

“Just tell me you aren’t playing at anything with her and I will,” Thor demands. 

“Mortals are your weakness,” Loki rolls his eyes at his brother. 

“Love is not weakness, Loki.”

“I do not feel that way about her. She is a friend. Much like Sif is to you.” Loki says pointedly.

“That’s all I wanted, brother,” Thor smiles. 

You clear your throat loudly, “Good afternoon, gentlemen.”

Loki looks up at you in amusement, “How long have you been there?”

“Well before you came in,” you wink at him. 

Thor looks at you sheepishly, “I’ll let you two get to your training.”

“Okay. See ya later,” you are holding in your giggle as you make your way to the climbing rope and jump to it. When you slide to the floor, you look into Loki’s mischievous eyes and you both burst into laughter. When it’s spent you say dramatically, “Loki! I can no longer control myself. I must swoon into your arms!” You pretend to faint against him and he catches you. 

“You’re ridiculous.” Loki narrows his eyes at you. 

“Yup! And you, my friend, are stuck with me!” You stand back up.

“You know that won’t be the last time someone will make the insinuation.” Loki says quietly.

“People have a hard time believing a man and woman can be just friends,” you shrug.

“That is true. Can I ask you something?” Loki asks. 

“Of course.”

“Hypothetically, would you have been able to fall in love with me if…” Loki trails off. 

“I don’t think I would let myself fall in love with any Asgardian,” you admit.

“Why?”

“How old are you, Loki?” 

“A little over a thousand years.”

“Exactly. Asgardians live for around 5,000 years, right?”

“Yes.”

“That’s why. Humans live maybe 80 years. That’s a blink in comparison. I’ve lost a lot of people who are important to me in my life. I don’t think I could purposely put someone through that. Falling for an Asgardian, letting them fall for you, would mean making them watch you die while they live on for millenia. I don’t think I could do that to someone, ever. It’s difficult enough being friends and knowing that. Being lovers, it would be unbearable.”

Loki nods, “I couldn’t have said it better myself.” 

You smile at him, glad he understands. “How about we get to work?”

“Let’s go, darling.”

Over the past week, you had worked up to slipping into Loki’s mind without the unbearable pain. It still caused a headache but you were able to see through his eyes and communicate in a similar fashion to how you did with animals. Today, you were attempting to take control of Loki’s movement. It wasn’t easy. Just lifting his hand took a toll. You drop the warg after a moment. 

“What’s wrong?” Loki looks concerned. 

“It’s difficult. The pain is worse,” you explain.

“Why don’t you warg and I’ll do some magic? Just play around a bit.” 

“Okay. Sounds fun,” you warg back into Loki. He begins doing some simple tricks and you watch in delight. You try to concentrate on the motions he makes, the feel of the magic flowing through him, and his thought process as he works. A picture flashes in Loki’s mind and you catch a glimpse of a beautiful face before he forces it away. 

“Does she know?” You ask in his head.

“What?” Loki hedges. 

“Does she know?” you drop the warg.

“No.” Loki says. 

“Then she’s not.”

“Not what?”

“She’s not lost to you. How do you know she doesn’t feel the same way?” you push. 

“She… I… I don’t… She couldn’t-”

“Oh, I’m gonna stop you right there. She could. She really could, but if you never told her how you feel, what’s she supposed to do?”

“She’s engaged.” Loki insists.

“She’s not married, Loki. You should tell her. Wouldn’t it be better to know?”

“What?”

“At least then you’d know. Either she doesn’t and you have closure to move on. Or she does and you two can figure it out. ‘Better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all’, right? Better to say it and know than to spend the next few millennia wondering,” you needle. 

“I…” Loki falters with a far away look in his eyes. 

“Just promise me you’ll think about it.” 

“I will.” Loki nods.

“Good,” you see Loki’s concentration is completely gone, “Why don’t we leave it for today?”

“Oh. Yes, good. I’ll see you later.” Loki walks away lost in thought. 

“Later, loverboy,” you whisper with a chuckle to yourself.

Part 18

Tuiccim’s Masterlist

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[falcqns]

To Be So Lonely

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader, Sebastian Stan x Reader

Summary: Henry has a crush on you, but you’re dating someone else, and he broods about it. he confronts you about it and ruins his career.

Warnings: swearing, threats, henry is a mega asshole in this and ruins his career, dont know where this idea came from lol

A/N: Bratty!Henry makes a comeback as requested! Hope you enjoy!

Don't blame me for falling

I was just a little boy

Don't blame the drunk calling

Wasn't ready for it all

Henry had been a fan of yours for a while. You had appeared in a few movies and TV shows, and he watched them almost religiously. You hadn’t been acting as long as him, but he firmly believed that you were way better at it than him, He had auditioned for a few of the same projects as you, but he never got the role, for one reason or another. He very vividly remembers watching the Mockingbird movie that you were in, and the feelings of jealousy he got as he watched you kiss your co star, Sebastian Stan. He almost wanted to hate Sebastian, but he had done nothing to him, so he couldn’t. Other than kiss the girl that Henry wanted for himself.

Then, one day, Anya and Freya busted into his trailer with huge smiles on their faces.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, petting Kal, and smirking at his friends. They locked eyes with each other and giggled before Freya told him what was going on.

“Y/N got a part on the show!” She squealed, and Henry felt warmth blossom in his chest in hope.

“Shut up. You’re joking!” He said, standing up, a huge smile spreading on his face. “When does she start?”

“Tomorrow!” Anya squealed, and Henry’s smile grew even bigger. He couldn’t wait.

You can't blame me, darling

Not even a little bit

I was away

And I'm just an arrogant son of a bitch

Who can't admit when he's sorry

Henry was practically shaking with excitement when he woke up the next morning. He wanted nothing more than to rush to set to meet you, but he needed to go for a run, eat, and get himself and Kal ready before he could do that.

40 minutes later, he was ready and was practically speeding to set with Kal in the passenger seat of his car. Kal had his head out the window, his mouth open, biting at the wind. Henry glanced over at him and chuckled. His stomach was feeling the same way.

He arrived moments later, and looked around the parking lot for your vehicle. He didn’t know what type of car your drive, but he noticed a black Dodge Ram 1500 that he hadn’t seen before today, so he had to assume that was yours. His eyes were darting everywhere, looking for you, while walking to his trailer. He dropped Kal off in his trailer, and filled up his food and water bowl before he left for the makeup trailer.

He walked out of his trailer, and that’s when he saw you. You were standing outside your trailer, which was opposite of his. Your hair and makeup was done, and you were talking on the phone. Suddenly, he was feeling very nervous, as you hung up the phone and your eyes landed on him. You waved at him, and the butterflies in his stomach grew as he walked over to meet you.

“Hi!” You said.

“Hi! I’ve been wanting to meet you for so long,” HEnry said as he gazed into your E/C eyes. You blushed and he opened his arms for a hug, which you willingly gave.

“Me too!” You said, and the two of you continued talking until your phone rang again. Henry glanced down briefly and his heart dropped into his stomach at what he saw. It was a picture of you and Sebastian kissing, and there was a heart next to Seb’s name.

“Sorry, that’s my boyfriend, but I’ll talk to you on set, okay?” You said, and Henry nodded with a smile, an attempt to cover what he was truly feeling.

“Of course.” You nodded, and walked away with the phone held up to your ear.

“Hey, baby...” You said into the phone, not noticing how Henry turned his back, and walked towards his trailer.

Don't call me baby again

You got your reasons

I know that you're tryna be friends

I know you mean it

Don't call me baby again

It's hard for me to go home

Be so lonely

Henry managed to hide the hurt he was feeling for a few days, but Anya and Freya first noticed something was wrong when Henry walked away from the three of you while you were telling them how Sebastian was trying to impress you once, and ended up falling down his trailer steps. Henry had made it to his trailer before breaking down. Kal bounded over to him, and pressed his body against his legs. Henry sunk to the floor, and let Kal rest his head on his shoulder. He let out a whine at Henry’s crying, and henry calmed down. He didn’t want to upset the one thing that makes him insanely happy. It was you, but you were taken. he couldn’t think about you liked that anymore, no matter how much he wanted to.

Anya came into his trailer a few minutes later, and sat next to him, her hand resting on his arm.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, and Henry lifted his head to look at Anya. “I like her. So much. But, she’s out there dating that asshole.”

Anya let out a laugh, and Henry looked at her in confusion. “What?”

“Sebastian isn’t an asshole. Just because he got her before you did, you’re going to make him look like the bad guy in this situation? First of all, there is no bad guy in the situation. She’s happy with him. He’s happy with her. If you’d sit and listen to the way she talks about him, you’d understand that. He has done things for her that I’ve never heard of anyone doing for their significant others, especially those who dont care about said significant others. When they were filming together, she really missed her best friend, so he flew her out for her birthday, and paid for them to spend the weekend at Disney World together. He’s a really nice guy, but you’re going to sit here and brood simply because he met her first. Dont blame him, and dont you dare blame her.” Anya said, before giving Kal a pet, and walking out of the trailer.

Henry glared at the wall opposite him for a few minutes, before pulling his phone out and going to instagram. He looked at his notifications, and scoffed in annoyance when he saw that Sebastian followed him. Without thinking, he clicked on the three dots, and blocked him.

You might be taken, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have to be okay with it. He stood up, wiped his eyes, and headed back to set. He made a point to keep his eyes glued to his phone so he didn’t have to talk to you.

He shouldn’t be blaming you for this, but the jealous side of him told him to, since he couldn’t blame Sebastian.

I just hope you see me in a little better light

Do you think it's easy being of the jealous kind?

'Cause I miss the shape of your lips

You'll win, it's just a trick

And this is it, so I'm sorry

You noticed Henry’s demeanour towards you go down over the course of your first week, and you were scouring your brain to figure out why while on FaceTime with Sebastian.

“I don’t know what I did to him. He barely speaks to me, he refuses to be alone with me, and if I even mention something about Marvel or our movie, he scoffs, and makes snide little remarks. He seemed like such a nice a person, and i dont know what happened.” You explained to Sebastian, while playing with your fingers.

“I don’t know, either love. I did notice that he blocked me though. I tried to follow him earlier in the week, and now I can’t even find his account, so I think he blocked me. I don’t think it has anything to do with you,” He said, giving you a sincere smile, that was full of love. You smiled at the sight of his steel blue eyes.

“Why would he hate you though? You’ve never met, and I thought he was a Marvel fan. Anya told me he was, and that he went to see Mockingbird in theatres. It doesn’t make sense.” You said. You watched as something washed over Sebastians face, and he ran his fingers through his hair.

“He might like you. I never even thought about that. He’s friends with Chris, I’ll find out for sure,” Seb said, picking up his phone and typing out a message to Chris.

“You think he like me?” You questioned, and Sebastian nodded. “Yeah, i think he does. I mean, he follows you on all your socials, comments on all your posts, he went and saw a Marvel movie by himself, and I’ve heard from a few people he’s been wanting to work with you for a while, but scheduling always got in the way. To me, its the only logical explanation right now.” He said, and you saw his face fall a little.

You smiled. “Baby, look at me,” His head lifted. “You know, even if this is true, I would never leave you, right?” He nodded.

“I know. It’s just- he’s played Superman. An actual superhero. I play a troubled 100 year old with a metal arm that he got through a debt owed to Steve by T’Challa. He’s played so many more influential roles in his career, and I haven’t even gotten the lead in a ‘superhero’ movie, I’m only a side character. And, I know you had a crush on him at one point. Plus, look at the dude! He looks like a Greek God. I don’t want to lose you.” Sebastian admitted.

You giggled slightly. “Baby, I don’t care about that. I care about you. Did you know that before I started on the Mockingbird set, I was terrified to work with you? I had the biggest crush on you, and I was terrified you wouldn’t like me back, but I was proven wrong instantly, when you came up to me and gave me the biggest hug, and told me if I needed anything, you were there for me. You waited for me on set so you could walk me to my car, even on days where you got to go before I did. You visited me when I was sick, and asked to hang out on our days off. You did that. He didn’t. I love you, not him, dragă.” You said, and he smiled. He locked eyes with you through the screen, and you saw tears welling up in his eyes.

“Te iubesc atat de mult,” He said in Romanian.

“Si eu te iubesc foarte mult.” You responded. “I’ll see you when your plane lands tomorrow, okay? It’s getting pretty late there, and your flights in a few hours.”

You and Seb said good night, and hung up. As you laid in bed a few minutes later, you thought to yourself. “Did Henry really like you, or was that just Seb’s jealousy?” You decided to confront Henry in the morning.

Don't call me baby again

You got your reasons

I know that you're tryna be friends

I know you mean it

Don't call me baby again

It's hard for me to go home

Be so lonely

You arrived at the door of Henry’s trailer less that 12 hours later, and you didn’t bother knocking. The thought of bringing Seb on set when Henry had a problem with him didn’t sit right with you, and you needed to figure out what the fuck was going on.

You walked in, and saw Henry putting food and water in Kal’s bowls. He looked up at you before returning to what he was doing.

“What’s your problem with Sebastian?” You demanded, and to your anger, you got a scoff in return.

“Who says I have a problem with him?” He said, refusing to even look at you. You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket but you ignored it for the moment.

“Seb! You blocked him on Instagram when he followed you. You roll your eyes whenever I talk about him, and get all pissed when he calls me. He’s done NOTHING to you! So what is your problem with him?” You demanded, and he finally turned around to look a you.

“He calls and texts you constantly! He always has to be talking to you. You’re here to do a job, not sit around and text your little boyfriend.” He said, and you laughed.

“Are you fucking kidding me?! I do my job perfectly well, and if you’d open your fucking eyes for two seconds, you’d see that I text him first! I tell him when I’m doing a scene, and when I’m not so he knows he can call me! Being in a long distance relationship is hard, and I’m trying to make it easier on him and I. And you say I’m here to do a job. Right now, I cant think of a SINGLE reason why I even took this job in the first place! Oh wait, I TOOK IT BECAUSE I WANTED TO WORK WITH YOU! Did you know I had an offer from Tom Cruise for The Mummy sequel and I turned it down because I wanted to work with you? I could be in Egypt right now, in shorts and a t shirt with Tom Cruise and Annabelle Wallis, my favourite actress, rather than in dreary fucking England, doing a show with you where you treat me worse than the horse shit that Zeus leaves in his path!” You screamed at him. His face became red, and he retaliated.

“FINE, YOU WANNA KNOW WHY I HATE HIM? BECAUSE HE HAD YOU FIRST! I’VE BEEN TRYING TO WORK WITH YOU FOR YEARS, BECAUSE I HAVE HAD THE BIGGEST CRUSH ON YOU, SINCE YOU APPEARED IN MURDOCH MYSTERIES! I WAS SO EXCITED TO BE ABLE TO WORK WITH YOU, AND I WAS GOING TO ASK YOU OUT, BUT YOU JUST HAD TO GO AND SLEEP WITH THE FIRST A LIST ACTOR YOU COULD GET YOUR HANDS ON WHO PROBABLY DOESN’T GIVE TWO SHITS ABOUT YOU! YOU DON’T WANNA BE HERE? LEAVE! I’M SURE TOM WOULD LOVE TO HAVE YOU! HE PROBABLY WROTE THAT PART SPECIFICALLY FOR YOU, BECAUSE WHY WOUDN’T HE? YOU SEEM TO GET EVERYTHING YOU WANT SO WHY DON’T YOU JUST TAKE IT, AND GET OUT OF ENGLAND BEFORE YOU BREAK MY HEART EVEN MORE!” He screamed.

You blinked back tears, and swallowed the lump in your throat before answering. “You don’t get to hate him because he got me before you did. That’s cruel and wrong. And I didn’t sleep with the ‘first A List celebrity i could get my hands on’. I slept with him because I love him, and he loves me. And you’re right,” You felt the tears spill over, and you did nothing to stop them. “I’m sure Tom will be happy to have me, because I quit. I cannot work with you. You are not the person I thought you were at all.” Your turned to walk out the door.

“And to think that I used to have a crush on you too,” You remarked before letting the trailer door slam.

And I'm just an arrogant son of a bitch

Who can't admit when he's sorry

You ran down the stairs and was immediately embraced by Sebastian, who had just arrived on set when he heard your and Henry’s screaming match.

“It’s okay,” He whispered into your ear, as you started sobbing. At that precise moment, Henry walked out of his trailer and opened his mouth to speak. Sebastian held up his hand before he could.

“I think you’ve done enough damage, Cavill. I’m not going to allow you to hurt her anymore. I can’t believe, that you, out of all people, would treat her like this simply because she’s dating someone else. You may play Superman, but you definitely don’t deserve it.” He remarked, and led out away. But, Henry being Henry, decided to snark back.

“You’re one to talk. You play a 106 year old Hydra assassin who somehow managed to convince everyone around him that his a good guy. You’re no worse than I am buddy.”

“Go to your trailer, I’ll see you in a second.” You nodded and headed in. While he dealt with Henry, you called Tom to let him know you could take the role after all.

“I don’t know why you think that you can treat my girlfriend like that, but it’s not okay. You should have seen the amount of research she did for this role! She read every single book, and played every single game in preparation for this role. She was so excited, and turned down the chance to work with her favourite actress to work with you. Not many people would do that. I also dont know what I did to warrant you absolutely hating my guts, other than dating her. I’ve done nothing to you, and even if I did, that doesn’t mean you can treat my girlfriend like shit for it. I’d watch your fucking back, because unlike you, she’s a Marvel actor. The majority of her friends are Marvel too, so don’t be surprised if you get a few nasty messages from certain Avengers, because I will not withhold this information.”

Sebastian walked in to your trailer and found you on the phone to Lauren, apologizing. You hung up a few seconds later and turned to Sebastian.

“She mad at you?” Sebastian asked, and you shook your head.

“No. She understands. She says that she’s sorry that he acted that way, and that she’ll be talking to him. I called Tom and I have the role. I fly to Egypt in two months.” You said, packing up your things. Seb nodded, and moved from where he was to help you.

You took off your costume, and took your hair out. Sebastian took your duffel bag with all your things, and the two of you headed out. Thankfully, you didn’t see Anya of Freya, you weren’t in the right space mentally to explain what happened. All you wanted to do right now was get as far away from Henry as possible.

Don't call me baby again

You got your reasons

I know that you're tryna be friends

I know you mean it

Don't call me baby again

It's hard for me to go home

Be so lonely

Henry sat in his car after getting yelled at by Lauren, Anya, Freya, Joey, and the director, staring at the tree just outside his windshield. He let his emotions get the best of him, and now filming was suspended until they could find a replacement for you. No one was mad at you, no one blamed you. Not even him. He’s the one that fucked up, he’s the one paying the price.

He dug his phone out of his bag, and wasn’t surprised in the slightest when he had a whole bunch of unread messages. He filtered through all the threats that your Marvel friends had sent them.

Chris: you are unbelievable. i cannot believe you treated her like that. my first impression of you being a complete and utter dickhead was true. i can’t believe i was ever friends with you.

Anthony Mackie: for Superman, you’ve done some serious damage. and that’s saying something. i’d be amazed if this didn’t ruin your career completely. you dont get to sit there all high and mighty simply because you’re ‘heart broken.’ none of us are going to keep this quiet.

Scarlett Johansson: count your days cavill. never thought you’d be the type to make a girl cry.

Elizabeth Olsen: congrats on ruining your career. if you even come near Y/N again, we’ll do much worse than ruin your career. believe me.

He threw his head back against the seat. They wouldn’t take it to social media, would they? He thought as he clicked on his instagram app.

The first thing he saw was a post from Robert Downey Jr explaining what had happened.

He’d fucked up bad, and there was nothing he could do to fix it.

To be so lonely, to be so

To be so lonely

To be so lonely, to be so

To be so lonely

[fleursdemeduse]

Remembrance AU: The First Time

So this isn't the first one I wrote for this "series", but this is the first one chronologically, so I decided this will be the first to be posted. Depending on how well this one and the other two I've written do will help me to decide if this is an AU I wanna continue or not. Feel free to send in asks and stuff about the AU!

Warnings: Violence ; Death

Words: 3.5k

You hated the nether. The thick dry heat choked you in a way that made you feel as if you had stepped into a wildfire in the middle of a desert, but worse. The smell of sulfur seemed to cling to your clothes in a way that made you gag every time. To be honest, you probably wouldn’t even be here if you didn’t appreciate the piglins. You were able to barter with them much easier than the villagers back home, and they had much better stuff. You snorted at the thought, and the large brute before you copied the action.

Home.

The village you had set up base in wasn’t really your home. Just a convenient place that you had set up your bed. A bed which now sat on the other side of the portal you had built on the lower level of the bastion below.

You were grateful to have access to the only thing you really needed in the nether. Trading with the piglins gave you a way to achieve more ender pearls so you wouldn’t have to kill the poor enderman on the surface. You held out another gold ingot to the brute, but he didn’t take it immediately. He was looking at something to the side of your exchange and you turned your head slightly to look too.

The heat of the nether was nothing compared to the warmth that immediately bubbled in your stomach. Everything seemed to fizzle out of existence aside from the large man that had entered the bastion. Which turned out to be your mistake.

Searing pain in your back made you grunt as you were knocked forward into the brute in front of you. You turned to see a ghast behind you that breathed another fireball. The piglin, upset at suddenly being “attacked” started to slice at you with its sword and you hissed at the damage you were taking. You didn’t want to kill the piglin. It didn’t understand that it had been an accident.

You cursed at yourself. You hadn’t realized how hungry you had been all this time, and your health felt dangerously low. Another hit from the explosion of the fireball and a swipe at the brute’s sword replaced the pain with nothing as you died.

You cursed when you woke up in your bed next to the portal. The mattress felt almost too soft as you struggled to remove yourself from it and fling yourself back through the portal. You flew up the steps, your feet taking them two at a time and you hoped your items hadn’t despawned.

You couldn’t help your sigh of relief when you saw Technoblade examining your items. You had been fast enough. You jogged up behind him, a grin on your lips, both relieved for your items and excited to finally meet him. “Hey!”

You immediately jolted to a stop at the sword now placed at your throat, but you could help but laugh at yourself. You should have expected that. You held up your hands in what you believed to be a non-threatening manner as you looked up at him.

“Sorry about that! I’m [y/n].” You watched him slowly lower the blade, eyes behind the mask narrowed at you. He looked both exactly how you expected and not how you expected at all.

“Technoblade.” You couldn’t help the giggle that spilled from your lips as you moved around him to collect your items and put back on your armor. Who hadn’t heard of him?

“Man, I hate ghasts. I worked really hard to save up all those levels, and now I have nothing.” You took a cursory glance at your levels. “Oh, I’m sorry, I have two. Fat load of help that would be. Glad I don’t need to enchant anything for a long while, hm?” You turned back to him once you had your golden boots buckled. You were totally going to take advantage of this opportunity to follow him like a puppy. No one else you had met seemed to actually understand you and the chance at an interaction with someone had you almost crawling up the walls. “Where are we off to, then?”

Techno just stared at you. You were much shorter than he was. At least a foot, if not more. How tall was he again? In this form, about seven feet, he thought. You were very short compared to him. The thought made his lips twitch before he turned, walking in the direction of where he last remembered there to be a fortress.

Chat was going crazy at the discovery of this new anomaly. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t met people he didn’t share a couple lifetimes with before. He had met plenty where they just didn’t meet in a life or two, such as George or Schlatt. But never someone he had shared none with. No one here seemed to speak of anyone new either. It was always the same people, a different storyline. As if DreamXD -or maybe Kristen? He had only met her once, but she had been very kind. Would this be her department, then?- just kept recycling their souls into new realities like a -what did that lifetime call it? A movie? Chat confirmed his thought- played for their own entertainment until they got bored and it was onto the next.

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. You were talking again, but the roar in his brain was louder, so he didn’t pay too much attention to your words, despite how the soft timbre of your voice made something bubble in his chest. What were you even doing here? He had seen you trading with the piglins before your death, -you had respawned so quickly, anyone else in this lifetime took two or three days but you seemed to reappear in what felt like seconds- so why were you following him now?

Chat’s whispers echoed through his mind.

E.

I wonder who they are.

They can’t be older than Tommy.

E.

Maybe we should kill them again, see what happens this time.

Wilbur will want to know about this.

They said their name was [y/n]?

Maybe they’re like Phil.

Pog.

E.

Blood for the blood god.

E.

They’re probably closer to Wilbur’s age.

Stab them.

Jump off the edge.

Push them off the edge.

E.

Techno, will you call my friend Rachel a nerd?

All warfare is based on deception.

His fingers twitched around his sword at the thought. Was this all a trick? It couldn’t be.

Could it?

He glanced at you once more, focusing on your words, finally.

“-like they seem to notice, y’know? I just kind of walk into their houses, take from their chests, and move on. Hell, I even put my bed in, I think the library? Not one of them batted an eye! It’s almost scary, to be honest. I can loot their things, sleep in their beds, practically dismantle their homes, and I get nothing but a “Hnn.” in response!” A small pout found its way to your lips and Techno hummed in response. This seemed to be what you wanted to hear because a smile replaced the pout and you looked up at him. “So where are we going again?”

“Fortress.” His words were short, tone clipped, as if he didn’t know if you were gonna shove him into the lava, or if that was what he planned to do to you. It didn’t matter, to be honest. You were just thrilled he was letting you accompany him. Heart soaring at the feeling of interacting with another intelligent being once more. He even seemed to be listening as you rambled! That had to be a good thing, right? You hadn’t really met anyone else on the server yet, aside from distantly watching Dream, George, and Sapnap build the large building that stood in the center of what they dubbed the Dream SMP. A small giggle fell from your lips. That would have been a cute name had one of the members not been named it. Rather, it just felt self-centered because of that. You were mildly afraid of approaching the trio. You were almost afraid of how they would react when they met you.

You edged closer to the bridge to the fortress with Technoblade and you felt your heart speed up a little. Ash floated across your vision and you felt it hard to breathe for a moment. The sweat that made your clothes stick to your skin under your armor made you feel clammy. You had only been in one of these once since coming here when you wanted to try your hand at learning how to craft potions and needed blaze rods.

That.. hadn’t worked out in your favor.

You had only had one set of diamond armor, and you hadn’t even enchanted it at the time. When the wither skeletons had overtaken you and murdered you without a thought, you remembered racing back and trying to get your items back. This had only led to yet another death, however. Your eyebrows furrowed as the question entered your mind.

How many times had you died?

You remember when you first came to this world, waking up next to a river with a chest filled with bread, a map, a wooden axe, and a few other paltry items sitting before you surrounded by torches. The gentle babble of the water easing you awake and the smell of fresh flowers floated through the breeze. You almost didn’t mind the ants that were crawling on the ledge just a tad too close to you. You remember being so confused and the days being so hard at first. You didn’t even sleep the first couple days because you hadn’t found a village yet. The stupid phantoms that had attacked you had made you way more aggressive than you had meant to be. But you were tired and you were frustrated and you just wanted to find a stupid village already. You had been residing in the one you were in now since you had first found it your third day here. The first two deaths happening on your second day. One because of said phantoms and one because you had fallen from a cliff. You were devastated at the lack of supplies and progress when you just respawned next to that river, awaking to a few scattered zombies and a skeleton or two. You had dug yourself a hole and cried in it while you waited for sun-up. Many more deaths had happened since, but you couldn't seem to be able to remember the number now.

You hadn’t planned on returning to a fortress until you had better equipment, fearing another death. Something better than your diamond armor and golden boots and your sole netherite sword, but who were you to miss the opportunity to go exploring with The Blood God? Besides you had a bow with Power IV you had stolen from a skeleton that had been in the village. You didn’t know how durable it still was, but it was better than nothing, right?

The rattling of bones brought you out of your thoughts. Already a couple of blazes and some wither skeletons were approaching. You drew your sword, heart hammering in your chest. This wouldn’t be like last time. You had Technoblade to back you up. The top PVPer. The winner of the potato war. The Blood God. You could do this. You could do this.

A lucky swing from one of the wither skeletons caught you in the arm and you hissed as the wither effect immediately took hold and you jolted at the feeling. It was numbing. You felt nauseated. Another hit and you gasped when you felt your health drop to a dangerous level. You sliced up with your sword, removing its head from its spine with a gnarly “click” and you immediately moved out of fire to drink some milk and eat a couple of the pieces of salmon you had brought with you.

Whilst you were letting your health regenerate, you removed your bow from your inventory, aiming at one of the blazes, only to watch something white hit it first. You hesitated, looking towards Technoblade, only to see him ignoring the wither skeletons that were approaching you and focusing on throwing snowballs at the flaming mob. Your lips twitched. Fine. You’d take care of the skeletons, then.

You grabbed your sword once more and began attacking the skeletons in front of you with reckless abandon. You were growing mildly frustrated. Your arm hurt now and Techno seemed to be leaving you on your own to fight off the horde that was slowly amassing. There had only been four of them at first, but now four more had sprinted over to join the fray when they saw the two of you. Now, minus the one you had already taken care of and the two Technoblade had killed within the first ten seconds of their approach, there were five. You winced when you heard the sound of both blazes being taken care of and you hadn’t even killed one more.

‘-so she throws this apple, she just chucks this apple and says like, only the hottest goddess can take this apple.’ Chat loved it when he told them mythology stories, despite them being there when he had read it.

E.

Greek mythology pog.

Semi-demi god for the win!

Speaking of discord, how’s the new person doing?

E.

Persephone is definitely the hottest.

At the mention of you, Techno turned his attention to the sound of metal hitting metal and was surprised to see you still standing there, despite being crowded by wither skeletons. Just another thing to tack onto the list about you. He watched you kill another one, followed by a yelp as you took another hit, the wither effect turning the flesh around your wound a purplish black before you killed one more. You backed up on the bridge, drinking more milk and eating another piece of fish. He could see how the action pained you, but you were resilient.

They’re stupid.

Look at them wave that sword around, do they even know what they’re doing?

E.

They haven’t died again yet?

They can’t be one of Schlatt’s people.

Save them.

Technoblade, wasn’t Eris the daughter of Zeus?

E.

He decided to wait and see what you did. If you died, there was more for him to loot. If you didn’t, then it was a lesson. Either way, he wouldn’t have to worry about protecting you further into the fortress. His nose twitched at the smell of your blood and of rot that seemed to ooze off the skeletons. He still needed more wither skulls.

The remaining four attacked you again, despite your low health, and you felt as if you were going to cry. You hated the nether.

Two more were dispatched a lot faster than the first ones had been and you swallowed. Adrenaline coursed through your veins and you felt just the slightest bit more confident in yourself.

Two more left.

You ducked at a swing, movement still slow. You only had one more milk left, and that scared you. You couldn’t, wouldn’t, get hit again with their stupid swords and their stupid wither effect. You sliced with your sword, hooking the metal into the rib cage in front of you and sending the skeleton careening into the other just as it swung down, making the attack miss.You flinched at the sound of metal hitting stone, but you recovered faster than the skeletons in front of you. You could do this.

Another hit, your sword cutting through the skeleton’s vertebrate and killing it. You could do this.

One more.

Your sword was met with metal as you blocked its attack and you grunted, knocking it back. You could do this!

A downward slice had you throwing yourself back onto the side of the bridge as you dodged. You couldn’t die. Not here. Not now. Not in front of Technoblade again. You shoved another piece of salmon into your mouth as you backed up. You really hoped there weren’t any more blazes around. Or more skeletons waiting for you. You shoved yourself off the wall, hitting the wither skeleton with your shoulder to knock it back again before you struck once more, across the neck, beheading it.

The sight of three wither skulls in your inventory made you fall to your knees and you let out a sigh in relief. Your arms ached. Your wounds ached. Your head ached. Your vision doubled for a moment. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath. You felt great, despite how dizzy you felt at the moment. You looked at Technoblade, hoping to find him still there.

He was leaned against the wall of the fortress, watching you with crossed arms.

Was he waiting on you?

The thought made you perk up and you scrambled to stand, rushing to him while holding the skulls. “Here! I got them all!”

He merely blinked at you as you handed him all three skulls you had gotten from your fight, placing them into his inventory after a moment. He didn’t speak, just turned to descend further in. Were you supposed to follow him?

You did anyways, feeling proud of yourself. He had waited on you!

The rest of the fortress had been like that. You continuously fighting wither skeletons, blazes, regular skeletons, zombified piglins, and magma cubes, only to turn over your loot to the large warrior who would patiently wait for you. You kept a few of the bars of gold, some diamonds, and one of the saddles you had found, but ultimately, you were just spare hands to help him. The experience you were gaining was more than enough, especially since he seemed to be listening to you ramble on and on. He’d occasionally hum or grunt in response, but not much more than that. It was still such a sweet sound in your ears, despite the constant crackle of fire that just filled the nether.

He didn’t speak when he decided he was finished, just started walking back the way you came and you immediately fell into step next to him when he walked past you.

Despite your exhaustion and the pain you felt, this trip felt more than worth it.

When you returned to the bastion where you two had first met, you grinned up at him.

Techno felt his breath catch in his throat at your smile. That smile almost made the sweltering brightness of the nether feel cold and dark. He had never had someone, aside from Tommy, smile at him with such warmth. No one had a smile like yours. They were all weighed heavy with the memories from lifetimes no longer in reach. But you? You were so tired from accompanying him, still wounded from fighting for him. Aside from the couple small treasures you had hidden away, you had given him everything. There was really no reason for you to have gone with him when you received virtually nothing in return. And now you smiled at him like that? You were-

TechnoSIMP.

E.

Look at how cute they are.

They’re stupid.

Take them back with us.

You should give them something for helping.

Hug them.

Awww look at them!

All warfare is based on deception.

He stopped that thought before it could fully finish.

“I should get going. I don’t know how dark it is and I want a bath.” He nodded at you. “I’ll catch you some other time, alright? Don’t be afraid to come by sometime if you need a buddy again, okay?”

He only hummed in response and watched you glide down the stairs of the bastion to a portal he had never noticed before.

A buddy? You weren’t a buddy. What did he really know about you?

You respawned faster than anyone else he had met. There hadn’t been another chance to test that, but you seemed unphased with your death. When you held up your hands, he couldn’t see the usual hearts on your wrist that they all shared. Even when normal members lost a life, he’s noticed that the normally red hearts are cracked and black. Phil himself had one on the center of his wrist. But yours were bare from the mark. You weren’t immortal, were you? Had he come across a god?

He chuckled at the thought.

Such a tiny god compared to him.

For now, he had to return to Pogtopia. He had to tell Wilbur about you. Perhaps write to Phil and ask if he knew anything about people with no or unlimited lives. He would repay your kindness at a later date.

He only hoped you wouldn’t be on the other side of this war.