#and i feel proud of myself for seeing this through after barely leaving the bed for more than 3 hours per day yay me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ohbo-ohno · 1 year

Note

Johnny being allowed to fuck but not cum all week because he pissed simon off, he tries bargaining with reader at one point to just - ease the cockring off , simon won't notice it'll be fine. Reader doesn't even have a chance to consider it before Johnny ripped out of her and is muzzled because bad dogs need to keep quiet

hm. you shot me dead with this one. like. what am i supposed to do with myself now?

1.4k of smut below the cut. cw: rough puppy play, itty bitty tiny second of cbt, edging/denial, simon is real real mean to johnny

something about johnny being in trouble and not being allowed to cum in you but trying anyway.... oh he's horrible

maybe this is after he was a little too rough with you (like that ask where he fucked up your wrist, or something similar) and he's in deep shit with simon. not only is he allowed to fuck you, simon makes him fuck you at least once a day. lines up behind johnny and moves his hips for him, doesn't even let him thrust on his own, guides every tiny little twitch. tugs him out right at the last second, makes johnny watch as he comes inside you. spends the whole time calling him bad, says if he could just learn to fucking listen for once he could mount you properly

johnny spends the whole week in misery. guy can barely sit down, he just wants to hump fucking everything. simon tells him he can't sit on the furniture when he's so drippy :( makes him sit on the floor instead - or he can let you clean johnny up, but no coming. does he want to be edged again or kneel between his legs like the mutt he is?

jacks him off in the shower in the morning, stopping right before he comes. leaves him crying and makes johnny wash his hair. has you cockwarm him for a bit, to make sure he stays completely hard. makes johnny eat you out til you're nearly knocked out, jacks him off slowly and stops every time you come.

he's nearly done with his punishment when he fucking breaks. it's a night simon isn't meant to be home until after midnight. you'd gone to bed earlier than johnny, wake up to him at you back, nose nudging your cheekbone and hard cock thrusting against your back.

"just gonna- just gonna fuck you, bonnie, 'k?"

"johnny?" you murmur, still half asleep. "but... simon said-"

"simon isn't fucking here," he snarls back, and you feel his bared teeth press against his shoulder. "he won't know. i'll be quick, ok, lass? just gotta... gotta cum, then you go back to sleep, yeah?"

"johnny," you'd whine again, getting a little squirmy in your spot as you feel his hands work at his own dick, then feel him start to slide in without any prep. "john- ow..."

"hush," he breathes heavily in your ear, hips already starting to work. you can feel how quickly his heart beats against you back. "i'll eat you out after, just let me... just..."

he doesn't speak after that, and neither do you. he's fast, needy, you can tell he's only gonna last a few minutes. you're still half-asleep, lost in the comforting warmth of your blankets and pillows, can't do anything but lay limp like a doll for him and relish in the pleasure.

you don't hear simon come in. one minute johnny is thrusting away inside of you, the next he's being ripped off, a sharp yelp coming from his lips followed by a long drawn out whine.

"bad fucking boy," you hear simon snarl over your shoulder, the sound of a slap echoing through the air. "you that fucking lost in your instincts, dog? can't think with nothin' but your dick - you see a pussy and fuck it, that's it huh? can't even listen to a simple command from your master. useless mutt."

you turn your head to the side, sleep clearing from your head at the sight of johnny crumpled to his knees, simon tall and proud above him. you can see the shine of tears on johnny's cheeks with the little light from the doorway.

"simon- simon-"

"no," simon's tone is merciless, his boot coming to rest on johnny's rock-hard dick and pushing down. "that's not what bad boys get to call me."

another whine, a plaintive "master..."

you see johnny's hips work a little, tiny thrusts against the sole of the boot. simon's scowl grows, backhanding johnny with bruising force and sending him sprawling to the floor. "why are you speaking? dogs don't fucking talk."

he stares down at johnny for another moment, both of them taking great heaving breaths. finally, he sighs loud and angry. "fine. i was going easy on you, mutt, was tryin' to be nice. but clearly you don't deserve nice."

he stalks over to their closet, yanking open a drawer you know holds the mean toys - the ones you don't like nearly as much as the others. he grabs something silver and shiny, storm back over to johnny and hauls him up by the hair.

johnny scrambles to follow, but simon doesn't give him a chance to stand. just drags his weight to the bed, throws him onto his back nearly on top of your legs.

you squeak a little, simon's aggressive energy something you're not entirely comfortable being so close to. you curl your legs up, folding into a little ball against the pillows as you stare at the two of them with wide eyes.

simon glances over to you at the sound, eyes softening behind his mask immediately. "oh, love, you're not in trouble. you couldn't stop the mutt from fucking you, huh? don't worry. we'll get him punished and i'll take care of you."

johnny whines again and starts wiggling around, eyes squeezed shut as his hips desperately thrust, looking for any sort of sensation. simon's attention slams back to him, a growl rumbling from his throat as he cups johnny's dick in one hand.

"gotta get you soft, dog," he growls, and you see his hand moving around a bit until he's got johnny's balls in a vice-grip. "the ring wasn't enough for a horny bitch like you, we'll see how you like the cage."

johnny's past words, can only writhe on the bed with little animal noises slipping past his lips. simon doesn't give him any leeway, doesn't give him comfort when he starts to sob a little, just keeps squeezing.

once he's apparently soft enough, simon is quick and methodical about locking johnny's cock up. almost impersonal.

"there," he grunts when he stands up to stare down at johnny. he lands a slap to johnny's dick, gets the smaller man jolting and crying out. "in your cage now. you're not sleeping in bed with us people until you prove you can handle it."

johnny hardly struggles as simon forces him to his knees, kicking at his side to guide him to the crate looming in the corner of the room.

just moments later simon's at the bed with you. he tugs the mask off now (knows you like it sometimes, but also knows it scares you a little - rarely wears it outside of punishments) and crawls on top of you, hands soft and slow as he coaxes you to stretch out back on the bed.

"hey, baby," he murmurs, voice low and just for you. "you're a good girl. can't help what the mutt does, huh? i know, i know. i'll take care of you now, fuck you right."

there are whines from the corner as simon flips you onto your stomach. he lifts you up to your knees, everything soft as he rubs your pussy a few times before slipping his cock into you.

he's always so heavy. you sink further into the bed when he gives you his weight, little moan slipping past your lips as your eyes roll back in your head. johnny gets louder.

"yeah, there you go. good girl, baby, so good for me, huh?"

simon fucks you deep and slow. no rush whatsoever, just nice and languid. you'd probably fall asleep if not for johnny's increasingly desperate noises, the sound of his crate rocking against the wall as he does something in there.

at one point simon sighs all annoyed into your ear, pulls out without warning. you whine and he pets a hand over your hair, whisps "just give me a second, doll, gotta shut the dog up and then i'll finish you off" before walking away.

you don't open your eyes, but you hear simon moving around the room. hear him spit, "makin' me fucking muzzle you because you can't shut up. nothing but a goddamn animal, are you?"

when simon fucks you again, johnny is silent.

he brings you to a slow and easy orgasm, fingers stroking at your achy clit. finishes inside you at nearly the same time.

he tucks you into his arms after, curls you into him and sighs, the sound all satisfied man. you fall asleep like that, johnny's predicament the furthest thing from your mind.

#asks and answers #bo writes #dlmliyh #btw simon totally lied about what time he'd be back so he could catch johnny and get him in more trouble lol #favorites

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sweetdreamsbuck · 2 years

Note

napping on the couch together if you feel so inclined 🥺💖

I'm here

bucky x f!reader (gif not indicative of reader description)

w.c: 2.5k

a/n: Col, this strayed far from what it was originally meant to be, but I couldn't help myself. I hope you enjoy it<3

𝐢 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤.

Bucky’s never been one to be overbearing, in any way.

Protective and doting, certainly– never so that his attentive means of care made you feel anything but cherished, supported, grounded.

Your Bucky.

Meeting you, loving you, allowing something so priceless into his world, has changed everything for him. There’s a burning need to be the one constant in your life that knows you. To be the man who can take the pressures of the world from off of your shoulders with ease, weaving himself around every twinge of sadness, eclipsing all murmurs of insignificance and unrest, until all you know is the weight of his breath shouldering your heart.

“You listenin’ to me?” it’s not a question he ever finds himself asking, but tonight, his girl’s exhausted. Completely drained. And she came home with the wind knocked out of her lungs and harrowing sobs strangling her light.

Those familiar knuckles, vibranium and oh-so purposeful, stroked along your cheeks while rosy concern emanated from the swells of his own. Bucky finds it necessary now– their delicate dance of outlining the shape of your nose, smoothing the lines of distress and the tremble of your lips resting against his muscles– they’re the culprit of what coaxed your eyes shut in mere seconds.

His hands wield so much power– fragile, firm, thrilling tenderness you weren’t sure existed anywhere else outside of his touch. Impossible not to surrender to, falling deeper and deeper under his protection. But it’s purely selfish now how desperate Bucky is to touch you, to quell every fiber of worry or unease with the brush of his palm. He lives for the moment your body relaxes under his care, all tension and pain evaporating within the caress of his love. “Someone ready for bed?”

His voice is a whisper, a warm and honeyed heaven blanketing every inch of you. How a man of his size embodies the breeze of gentle winds rustling through blades of grass, well. You never have to wonder.

A fearsome beauty to behold, otherworldly– Bucky shines, burnished and ethereal; all of the terrifying Angel you know him to be.

The patter of freezing rain and rough winds plaguing the windows reminded you of how safe you were inside the life you shared. After all the isolating thoughts, after all the feelings of restless insignificance swimming round and round between your ears– Bucky’s here, soothing it all. Erasing any lingering struggle to find your footing, leaving nothing but the ghost of worshiping lips with husky whispers of how proud he is of you, how desperately he loves you with indescribable devotion rushing from his soul.

Each stroke, each breath, each kiss that danced along your skin echoes the sentiment of words Bucky’d shower you with until the day his heart stopped “Oh my sweet girl, I’m here.”

Crying had never felt so safe than while enveloped in his arms, strong hands soothing long paths along your tense back, lips falling protectively against your temple. He touches you as if you're the very thing that lights the sky; his words are hardly enough to prove how much of a miracle you are. Because to him, you are.

His miracle.

His pink lips barely leave your skin as his words sink in– a devastating touch each inch and scar of your being knows; Bucky’s kiss is final. And it lives within each curve, each insecurity, each smile, each ugly secret he knows took all the trust in the world to let him see, loving them enough for the both of you and then some– “I’m here, I’m here, I’m here.”

Bucky’s lips brand the words permanently, in absolution with tremors of his vigorous desire to be everything for you. “I got you. Whatever you need, let me,”– you need him, always.

Tonight hadn’t been any different. After what felt like hours of being shielded by his unwavering tenderness, of sobbing into his chest so rawly Bucky swore he felt his heart shredding in two, trying his hardest to catch all of you and never let go– resting your eyes for a moment against his stomach seemed to be just what you needed. Your head shook against thick muscle, his relaxing fingers slowed at your hairline, “N’am not, not tired. Just keep talking.”

Cool metal etched silent promises down to your hip, his piercing gaze staring at you with that look– the one that says he’s perfectly intent on staying like this, loving you, holding you until the messy and unforgiving world made a bit more sense. He needs it more than you most of the time. And then he’d get to hold you some more; knowing the overwhelming emotion he felt every time he looked at you was at peace within your veins.

“Really?” that deep voice crooned, playful, “‘Cause I think, you’re fallin’ asleep on me.”

Work had been hell the past few weeks while feelings of being alone were at an all-time high. Between wrestling with self-doubt, a workload that had somehow weaseled its way into your life and into the nightmares that kept you tossing and turning, all of the yelling and berating that shook you to your core because of mistakes that were entirely out of your control– of course. It was impossible not to.

You were falling asleep on the gentle thing you could never, ever, get enough of immersing yourself in. The one thing that proved time and time again, you could never be alone while Bucky still had air filling his lungs.

And maybe that’s why it’s so effortless to do so. The one thing that saw all of your broken pieces, the sharp edges you felt would threaten even the strongest– Bucky saw them, could paint them all by name like the scars marring his own body. He held them so tenderly, cherished each piece of you that you deemed burdensome so fiercely; nothing about you was a burden. Bucky admired all of you, desired all of you with a fervent need. It made your head spin, it made you feel whole.

“I’m not, just wanna hear your voice. Promise, I’m awake.” Bucky could hardly find it in himself to blink, not when your lips spread in a sweet smile he hadn’t seen in weeks. So small, so muted compared to the brilliance that nearly brought him to his knees every damn time he was in the presence of one. But it’s yours. “Please…”.

It’s weakening, mesmerizing, the bruise you leave with every display of your love. The serum only makes a man so strong; he’d never get enough of the way you wounded him.

Bucky gleams, and if you weren’t so spent, you’d see the air of ease filling his chest, the expanse of his shoulders quaking with reprieve.

Just when you thought you’d known everything there was to know about being seen, guarded by your very own earth angel, his hand closed around yours, tugging it gently to rest against his sternum. Bucky closed his eyes, leaning down to rest his nose within your knuckles. Inhaling, pulling you apart by the very seams and mending all at once– it seemed almost silly, how necessary his lips feel claiming the skin of your fingers, but your body felt the sensitive accusation of his kiss tenfold, “Even here. I’m here, too.”

You couldn’t stop the tears that blurred your vision if you tried.

There’s a lilt, always, pleasant and solid in his sigh when his eyes meet yours, your nerves buzzing from the way he always breathes you in vying for more. Vibranium tickles the tears under your eyes with adoration, a confirmation, he’d let you pretend you’re not falling asleep, that you really wanted to listen to him ramble on and on– so long as he gets to wound you, too.

That’s all you’ll ever need.

Your body knows, even on the cusp of sleep it craves him. More him, always more. His warmth, his support, the irresistible smell of his skin that always comes before relief. It slowly shifts, uncurling itself from the dip of the couch and closer to where Bucky’s fingers concealed your own.

His hands revel in that, it’s all they itch for; guiding your frame closer until your body collapses with deliverance, lashes teasing against his skin while your breathing slowed even more.

His eyes certainly never risk closing when you burrow further into his chest, hiding that exhausted pout within the shadows of his neck just above rough scar tissue. How could he miss even a second?

The echo of your heart mirrored the air puffing down his neck with every exhale sighed and it’s a revelation. Bucky revels in how perfect it feels to be wanted, to be trusted so deeply by the person who fills every color of his life with undying affection. He takes none of it for granted, especially not the soft hums the most distracting lips fall to adorn his throat with.

And then they melt on his skin, the featherlight promise of Bucky’s miracle resting against his pulse, again and again and again– it’s hardly his fault a shiver eases down his spine. Those damn lips. He’ll never be able to find language to express to you how good it feels, how addicting you are.

He’d do anything for you, be anything for you.

“Alright, sweet girl,” those strong hands wrap around your waist, plush lips greeting your eyelids with a dynamic song that sings I’m here. It’s okay to let go, let go, sweet girl. Let me love you. You’ve heard it countless times– have felt it endlessly since the first moment you invited him in behind those towering, frightening walls of your heart. But it’s soft, orchestrated with vulnerable direction, scruff-laced harmonies whispered against every inch of you, ostinato declarations of desire with a certain timbre only you know the key of “I’ll take care of you, just let me love you.”

“You’re gonna have to hear all about my perfect girl, but I can do that. Jus’let me hold you right.” The couch pillows already share the imprint of your body pressed up against his, of countless hours of entwined limbs and thick muscles sheltered within your arms. Yet, it always feels new, a different welcome each time, somehow more familiar than the last.

Bucky rearranged you both lying with his back nestled in the cushions, cradling you right atop his heart. “She’s so bright, the smartest.” Long fingers lifted under your chin, catching your eyes in their fight to stay open.

“And she’s the kindest soul, swear she’s made of stars.” He couldn’t help himself; that breathtaking glimmer washing so peacefully over your face, the trying lift of your mouth; he smoothed the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip before placing a kiss just under your nose, “beautiful,” on the plump of your cheek, “so, so beautiful,” on the corner of your mouth, “precious”. Bucky’s lips meld so softly with your own, your breath tasting of surrender, of bliss.

A sniffle slipped out, once then twice. “Strong. So damn strong,” a third time is when your body followed through with its fate, shaking slightly against him.

The way he holds you, knows you, worships you, leaving no room for questioning the torrents of emotion he treads– it’s maddening. Bucky walks with the years of his own pain, yet bleeds with the certainty of just how easy it is to love you, to devour you whole with the joyous bruise of being loved in return.

“Shh hey, hey…what?” he worried, rubbing a calloused thumb from your quivering lip all the way to your creased forehead.

“What what?”

Forced bemusement of his concern rumbled delightedly beneath you, “You’re okay,” his nose bumped against yours, lips following, “but what’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours, hm?” Bucky’s nose wiggled down to behind your ear, peppering quick pecks on the skin there until you were squirming.

You giggled– oh god you fucking giggle and Bucky’s ruined. It erupted, and he felt it everywhere; goosebumps, swirling until they bled so potent beneath his skin. Nothing else could matter more than the promising sound of the home he’s allowed himself to live in.

“I don’t know,” he feels it in your eyes– so telling of the devotion Bucky deserves– honest, and they can’t seem to get enough of the curve of his nose, the freckles that dance along the high points of his concerned features. Those serene, startling blue eyes. Always seeing you, always longing for you.

Home. Your Bucky.

“I’m just so tired.”

Bucky would relive every moment he’s endured to always know what it feels like to be loved by you, to be clung to in your most vulnerable of states, with glazed-over eyes tormented and drowsy, to know of the rapture that exists in holding you tight until the air drowning your lungs is full of his love, of soothing breaths. To nurture you, accept your feelings and emotions with open hands, however they may present themselves.

He wants it all. Just you.

Bucky could only pull you closer, breathing you in as plump lips gently lay on your forehead, resolute arms embracing you with reverence.

He clears his throat, ready for you to listen, “Sometimes, I wonder how I got here. You know how special this is to me? The light of my dreams, so damn comfortable in my arms. Did’ya know that? Used to dream of you,” his knuckles swiped away the remaining wet trails from your face, calloused fingers softly spidering along your shoulders.

“Really? My Bucky?”

My Bucky– god he could burst.

The flush spreading along his cheeks hardly phased him, he nestled his nose against you further, nodding.

“Didn’t ever get to see you, but I know it. Had to be you, watching over me. Better than I could have even imagined. Sweetest damn eyes, hurts my chest a little just thinking about going a whole lifetime without ever knowing them. Prettiest heart in the whole world, you save me a little more every time I look at ya. When I get to hold you. You have no idea what you are to me.”

Me? your tongue attempted. It comes out as more of a yawn, already asleep.

“All I ever needed. Lucky bastard I am, huh?” Bucky hates how the world seems to take your compassion for granted, walking all over your kindness as if it’s expendable. It’s not. Not even a little bit. God only knows the serenity it’s granted him, of the fresh air it’s offered Bucky to live within each day.

“You’re the first thing I’ve had in a long time. And you make me feel whole, capable. I could be myself, learn to, at least. Not… disappear. Could never do that, not now. I have years to make up for, a whole life to live. A home to get back to at the end of the day. And I got the sweetest thing in the whole damn universe to love. You got no idea…”

A questioning whimper of his name rumbles against his throat, safe and asleep in the soundness of his chest.

“M’right here, sweet girl. I got you.” Your Bucky, he thought.

The rain kept pouring, the night remained dark and chilled, but all Bucky could focus on was the heart beating warmly against his own. He counted your breaths as they landed safely within his black and gold shoulder– the only metal that would ever know the enormity of what a miracle you were– just as his eyelids drift closed.

“M’right here, sweet girl. I got you.” Your Bucky, he thought.

The rain kept pouring down, the night remained dark and chilled, but all Bucky could focus on was the heart beating warmly against his own. He counted your breaths as they landed safely within his black and gold shoulder; the only metal that truly knew the enormity of what a miracle you were; just as his eyelids drift closed.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x f!reader

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shitsndgiggs · 1 month

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Can you make a fic where the reader leaves kenan because he barely spends time with her and would rather hang out with his friends. He later regrets this and tries to win her back

I’LL CHANGE - KENAN YILDIZ

He says he’ll change for you

Kenan Yildiz x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

It had been a long time coming, but the moment I walked out of Kenan's apartment, my heart felt like it was shattering into a thousand pieces.

The tension between us had been building for weeks, and I could no longer ignore the nagging ache that grew every time he chose his friends over me.

It wasn’t always like this. When we first started dating, it felt like we were inseparable. Every spare moment he had, he spent with me, and I fell so deeply in love with the way he made me feel like I was the center of his world.

But slowly, things changed. His football career took off, and with it, the demands on his time increased.

At first, I understood. I knew how important his career was to him, and I was proud of everything he was achieving. But as time went on, it became clear that I was no longer his priority.

Plans were canceled at the last minute, texts went unanswered for hours, and more often than not, I found myself alone while he was out with his friends, laughing and living a life that I wasn’t a part of.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want him to have fun or enjoy time with his friends—it was the fact that he never seemed to make time for me anymore.

I tried to talk to him about it, hoping that he would see how much it was hurting me.

But every time, he brushed it off, promising that things would get better, that we would find more time for each other.

I clung to those promises, hoping that one day he would follow through. But nothing changed. The empty promises piled up until I couldn’t take it anymore.

And so, with a heavy heart, I made the decision to leave. I didn’t even bother packing up all my things—I just grabbed what I needed and left a note on the kitchen counter.

As I walked out the door, the tears I had been holding back finally spilled over, and I found myself sobbing in the hallway, my chest heaving with the weight of what I had just done.

For the first few days, I waited for him to come after me, to call or text and tell me that he was sorry, that he wanted to fix things. But the silence was deafening.

I knew he was probably out with his friends, not even noticing that I was gone. And that hurt more than anything else.

Weeks passed, and I did my best to move on. I focused on myself, spending time with my own friends, trying to fill the void that Kenan had left behind.

But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake the feeling of emptiness that lingered in my heart. I missed him—desperately. But I couldn’t go back, not when I knew that nothing would change.

Then, one evening, just as I was starting to feel like I might be able to heal, I got a text from him.

It was late, and I was lying in bed, scrolling through my phone in an attempt to distract myself from the loneliness that had become my constant companion.

Kenan: Can we talk? I’m outside your place.

My heart skipped a beat as I stared at the message. I hesitated, my fingers hovering over the screen as I debated whether or not to respond.

Part of me wanted to ignore him, to pretend that I hadn’t seen the message. But another part of me—the part that still loved him—couldn’t resist the pull of seeing him again.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I typed out a quick response and hit send.

Me: I’ll be right there.

I threw on a sweater and slipped into my shoes, my heart pounding in my chest as I made my way to the door.

When I stepped outside, there he was, leaning against his car with his hands shoved into his pockets, his eyes downcast.

He looked up as I approached, and the sight of his tired, regretful expression nearly broke me all over again. For a moment, neither of us spoke, the tension hanging heavy in the air.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, his voice hoarse. “I know I messed up. I should have been there for you more, and I wasn’t. I just… I didn’t realize how much I was hurting you until you were gone.”

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my emotions in check. “Kenan, it’s not just about being sorry. It’s about changing. I can’t keep going through this with you, waiting for things to get better when they never do.”

“I know,” he whispered, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I know I don’t deserve another chance, but I’m begging you… please, let me make it up to you. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

My heart ached at the sincerity in his voice, and for a moment, I was tempted to give in, to let him back into my life and hope that this time, things would be different.

But then I remembered all the nights I spent alone, all the times he chose his friends over me, and the pain that came with it.

“I don’t know if I can trust you not to hurt me again,” I said softly, my voice trembling with the weight of the truth.

His face crumpled, and a tear slipped down his cheek. “Please,” he pleaded, stepping closer. “I know I messed up, but I can’t lose you. I’ll prove it to you—just give me a chance.”

Seeing him like this, so vulnerable and desperate, made my resolve waver. But deep down, I knew that I couldn’t keep putting myself through this.

I had to choose myself, even if it meant walking away from the person I loved.

“I’m sorry, Kenan,” I whispered, my own tears finally spilling over. “I can’t do this anymore.”

I turned to walk away, but he reached out, grabbing my hand and pulling me back. “Please don’t leave,” he choked out, his voice breaking. “I’ll do anything… just don’t leave me.”

I closed my eyes, trying to block out the sound of his voice, the feel of his hand gripping mine. But it was no use. I was too weak, too in love with him to resist. Slowly, I turned back to face him, my heart torn in two.

“Kenan…” I began, but before I could finish, he pulled me into his arms, holding me so tightly that it felt like he was trying to fuse us together.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered against my hair, his voice filled with so much pain that it made my chest ache. “I’m so sorry.”

And in that moment, I couldn’t fight it anymore. I buried my face in his chest, letting the tears flow as he held me close.

Maybe we were toxic, maybe we were doomed to repeat the same mistakes over and over again. But right now, all I knew was that I couldn’t let go of him, no matter how much it hurt.

“I love you,” he murmured, his voice breaking as he kissed the top of my head. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” I whispered back, my voice barely audible as I clung to him, unable to let go. “But this has to change, Kenan. I can’t keep going through this.”

He nodded, his grip on me tightening as if he was afraid I would disappear if he let go. “I’ll change,” he promised, his voice filled with a desperate sincerity. “I swear I’ll change.”

#football imagine #football x reader #turkiye #kenan yildiz x reader #kenan yildiz

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baurbiediv · 2 years

Note

Hiii i saw you’re taking requests rn :)

Reade is in the family suit watching the game and suddenly doesnt feel good and coughs blood and then passes out. The other gf and wives (they love reader) trying to help. Maybe she has a cerebral hemorrhage and is rushed to the hospital. They cant get a hold of joey at first amd reader is scared and only sees him after surgery

sweet nothing

PAIRING ➔ joe burrow x gf!reader

WARNINGS ➔ mentions of blood, passing out, fainting & hospitalization (do not read if topic is sensitive to you! i am not forcing you to read this story!)

SYNOPSIS ➔ everything seems to not be going to well with y/n, what happens when joe can’t reach her?

A/N ➔ i had to change some stuff around (sorry anon!!!!) + if this is a triggering topic, please do not read for your own well-being! i also tried to do as much research as i could for this one, so please if there are any mistakes, do not hesitate to let me know!

usually you’d been excited for game days, except this time, it felt different.

you’d woke up that morning feeling incredibly groggy and exhausted, but you kept it pushing since you didn’t want make joe nervous.

it was the biggest game of the season, the AFC championship. joe had been pushing himself for this game and you were undoubtedly behind him for every single step.

you observed how hard he worked, even in the times he was so sore he could barely move, he wanted to be out there with his team and make them proud.

the clock read 8:45 am, just barely missing the alarm, you sat up and rubbed the slumber from your eyes and stretched.

looking back, joe, who was comfortably sleeping on his back and you watched the lazy sun just narrowly peeking through the blinds, hit his skin. getting up to get ready, you figured joe could use a little extra sleep so you let him sleep and left him to go to the bathroom.

usually when you got up in the morning, you weren’t sensitive to the lights at all really as they never affected you, but in that moment, you were oddly sensitive to them today.

carrying it with a grain of salt, you left the bathroom, the clock now reading 8:55 am, you approached the bed and ran a hand up and down joe’s back.

you laughed quietly seeing his face smushed into the pillow, before kissing his cheek, “wake up sleepyhead!” you whispered said as his eyes slowly opened.

a smile slowly etched onto his face, regularly he was a heavy sleeper, this time all it took was a kiss from you to wake him up, “good morning” he said, the rasp in voice very prominent.

you both smiled as you leaned back down and pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

you’d never admit it but you loved his morning voice, although you were almost sure joe knew that.

normally you two had never been this late leaving the house, but your body was against you today. you couldn’t pin point what was going on, but you hoped that it would stop soon. nothing like this had ever happened before, so why now?

once you arrived at the stadium, you turned and looked at joe, “now, i know i say this before every game day, but you know i love you. don’t get into your head too much, joey. you’ll do great, i know you will.” you told him as he smiled above you.

“thank you my love, i’ll try not to psych myself out”, he said which made you furrow your eyebrows and look at him, “okay, okay, i was joking! but i got it. i love you.” he said before leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead, you smiled and waved goodbye as he left to go practice.

you headed up to the family suite and were immediately met with the other wives and girlfriends of the other players, the first to approach you, was meggi.

you two had known each other for quite some time now and were excited to find out that your boyfriends would be playing on the same team.

you all sat down and caught up with each other, as if you didn’t do that any other day with them. time had passed by and eventually the game had begun and was already in its 2nd quarter.

but that wasn’t before you were hit with the most severe headache you’ve ever before felt something thick, trickling down your nose, blood.

kayla, who wasn’t standing too far from you, noticed you and she made her way towards you, “y/n, what’s going on?” she said, before grabbing a few napkins and helping you hold them towards your nose.

you shook your head as felt like you could barely speak, “i don’t know, one minute i’m perfectly fine, next thing i know my head is killing me and my nose is bleeding.”

you said before putting a hand on the back of your head, trying to relieve the pressure of the headache somehow. you thought you could physically feel your heart beating faster and directly out of your chest right now.

chassidy was helping you stand and at this point everyone was nervous, meggi & iris making calls down to medical assistance and even the team assistant in hopes for them to reach joe, but nothing was working and nobody was answering back.

the dimmed lights and cold air felt very foreign to you, somewhat uncomfortable, and making you unreasonably anxious.

the only thing that was even capable were the faint beeping of the monitors around you and the faint voices heard out in the hallway.

you did your best to make out the voices, but there was no luck. heading the door open, you slowly looked over seeing joe’s figure, you smiled, yet, his eyes were nearly bloodshot red and puffy.

you’d never been so confused as to why he was crying.

joe quickly hugged you, yet, he was careful. he wasn’t sure what was going on with the love of his life, he didn’t want to hurt her more than she already was.

“hi my love.” he said as you quickly hugged him back, that feeling of love coming back to you.

“hi joey, did you win the game?” you said, clearly oblivious to the major traumatic event that occurred.

joe softly pulled away from you allowing you to rest, he laughed tenderly as he wiped the few tears from his eyes that seemingly escaped without him noticing, “yes y/n we won.” he said, which made you slightly cheer.

“so what happened?” you asked him, he sighed before he looked down, “you had a cerebral hemorrhage y/n,” you started to remember everything from that entire morning. from the groggy feeling and the sensitivity, to the splitting headache, and finally the nose bleed.

“the doctors don’t know how it happened, they checked family history, they found nothing.” he said, you softly grabbed his hand, “i’m okay now though joey.” you smiled, he nodded in agreement.

“but i’m watching you with my every move y/n, you got that?” he said pointing to you, making a ridiculous face,

“yes sir burrow!” you said laughing.

sorry ab the shit ending 🙍🏽‍♀️

#joe burrow #joe burrow x black reader #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fic #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow blurb

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diazsdimples · 6 months

Text

WIP Wednesday

Look at me posting two days in a row! The beans are slowly returning from their disappearance, I can feel it!

This snippet of Frostpunk AU is a little longer and I probably shouldn't be sharing all of it because remaining mysterious and all that, but fuck it. I'm just proud of myself for having written something lol.

There’s a slight rustle as his tent flaps are pulled back, and Buck’s legs jostle as a weight sinks onto the end his bed, a firm hand curling around his shin. “Hey Bobby,” Buck croaks, his voice rough and frayed, like a well worn piece of material. “Hey kid. You doing okay?” Buck opens his eyes and is met with the warm, brown eyes of his adopted father, full of care and concern. Bobby cocks his head, waiting for a response. “No,” Buck says quietly, and he rolls onto his side, curling his legs up towards his body. He wraps his arms around his knees and lets out a shaky sigh. “No, I’m not, but I don’t know why. I can’t get them out of my head, Bobby! Why can’t I let them go?” He angles his head up towards Bobby, looking at him with pleading eyes, and Bobby sighs, moving to stretch himself beside Buck. It’s reminiscent of when he was younger and was plagued with nightmares. Bobby would bring Buck into his and Athena’s bed and the small boy would cling to Bobby’s chest as he whispered stories into Buck’s hair, until the trembling stopped, and his breathing evened out. “I never did tell you how I found you and Maddie, did I? You were so young, I wasn’t sure if you remembered…” Bobby says, shifting beside Buck as he gets into a comfortable position. His muscles must be in a similar state to Buck’s if not worse, so it’s any wonder it takes him a moment to settle. “C’mere.” Buck turns, his body relaxing as he sees Bobby’s outstretched arm, and he settles into his father’s side, head resting against his chest, just like the old days. “I understand how you’re feeling,” Bobby begins, his hand skimming up Buck’s arm as he squeezes him closer. “We never meant to find you and Maddie. I was out on a scouting mission with Athena, and we were looking for my fa– for some people who were lost in a storm. We’d barely made it a day out of the city before we found you two.” Bobby shivers, as though the memory were transporting him back in time. For Buck, he has flashes of his childhood before Sector 118, small moments of discomfort as he remembers harsh words, cold looks, and lonely nights. He nods, signalling for Bobby to continue. “We found you two wrapped up together. Maddie had tried to dig you into a drift to conserve heat but had gotten too tired, so she’d stopped. If we hadn’t found you –“ Bobby’s voice breaks and his grip on Buck’s shoulders tighten, pulling him in closer. Buck lets out a small noise in the back of his throat and allows Bobby to pull him in, chin digging into the top of Buck’s head. They lie there, both shaking slightly as Bobby relives the past and Buck fears for the future. Bobby takes a deep breath before he finally continues. “I didn’t leave your bedside for a week. Athena had to drag me away to eat. I barely slept. You were just some kid I’d rescued, but for some reason I couldn’t leave you. Either of you” Bobby hums out a small laugh and Buck feels it reverberate through his chest, reminding him of how Bobby used to laugh as Buck would try and tickle him after he’d calmed down from his nightmares. It’s oddly comforting. “So I know exactly what you’re going through. There’s no rhyme or reason for it, Buck. You just have to let yourself feel it. Be there for them. We’ll all support you.”

No pressure tagging @theotherbuckley @hippolotamus @watchyourbuck @puppyboybuckley @daffi-990 @exhuastedpigeon @disasterbuckdiaz @spotsandsocks @rainbow-nerdss @wildlife4life @buckbuckgoose @bucksbackwardcap @evanbegins @cal-daisies-and-briars @fortheloveofbuddie @spagheddiediaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @loserdiaz @giddyupbuck @aroeddiediaz @jesuisici33 @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @kitteneddiediaz @elvensorceress @thekristen999 @actuallyitsellie @wikiangela @smilingbuckley @epicbuddieficrecs @underwater-ninja-13 @shortsighted-owl @loveyouanyway

#father son moments like this are my fave #yes bobby cuddles buck when he's sad #in this au they're v close #that's his boy!!!#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 abc #911 buddie #911verse #911 fanfic #911 #eddie x buck #buddie wip #james writes #frostpunk au

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thefallennightmare · 4 months

Text

Mercy-Five

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Fallen Angel!OC

Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, smut, mythological talk, violence.

Summary: "Blinded by a fear of feeling, these are the kings we chose. Lost and looking for the meaning, I've been searching high and low" It came crashing down on him. This is the story of the highest banished angel from where she came only to find home in the arms of a mortal man. This mortal realizing he'd face Lucifer himself to keep her.

Lethia: Archangelus Oneironaut also known as Archangel of Dream Walking. Across worlds and dimensions, she walks within. Uncovering dangerous secrets, leaving her cast out, isolated- that is until she begins to learn what it means to feel.

Authors Notes: thank you to everyone who was incredibly patient in the long two and a half months it took for me to update this. I am so proud of myself for busting through this chapter this past weekend. I am VERY excited for what's to come! Huge thank you and shoutout to @thescarlettvvitch for all the LOVELY ideas. I had so much fun creating the gif.

Tags[OPEN]: @happi-goth @thescarlettvvitch @mitchhbitch @missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @loeytuan98 @artificialbreezy @marvelousmal @bngurngheart @lma1986 @dsireland86 @wild-child-7747 @calleyx13 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @exitwoundsx @shayzillaaaa @lookwhatitcost @badomensls @princesspeach-00 @burning-outx @shadowseve @klutzy-kay24 @sorrowsofsilence @shilohrosechicken @itsafullmoon @toospooktocute @thatchickwiththecamera @hoe-for-daddywise @whenthesummerdies @cookiesupplier @concreteemo @thisbicc @sammyjoeee @pathion @flowery-mess @tashka @malice-ov-mercy @respectfulrebel @themortaljessica @crimson-calligraphyx @blackveilomens @lyschko666 @iknownothingpeople @collapsedglasshouses @iamamatus

NOAH

With a sigh, I rolled over in bed and stretched out an arm towards Lethia, hoping to feel her warmth again but was met with cold sheets. I removed my head from underneath the pillow to see that the space next to me had been empty for a while.

“Lethia?” I called out while rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

Silence.

After I got into bed with her last night and we said our goodnights, neither of us said a word. Letting the silence that encased my bedroom be the eerie white noise we needed to fall asleep. My dreams were filled with all the information I had found out moments before coming to bed and the feathers tucked away in the studio's closet. I hadn’t told Lethia what I knew, I wanted her to be the one to tell me. It was her secret to tell.

If she ever did.

Slowly dragging myself out of bed, I let my feet guide me over to the bathroom across the hall.

Do angels even go to the bathroom?

I shook my head with a chuckle and peeked into the bathroom only to be met with darkness. Once I made it downstairs and through the quiet house, I noticed the back patio door open, the cool breeze wrapping around my bare legs.

“Lethia?” I called her name again when I stepped outside.

Just past beneath the trees to our backyard was a path that led down to the beach less than a mile away and something in my gut was telling me to follow the path. I only made it a few feet away when something black on the fence caught my eye.

One of Lethia’s feathers.

I hesitated slightly, not knowing if it was a good idea to touch it now knowing what I do. It would take me into a part of her memories and I wasn’t sure if I was ready to see something else I couldn’t understand. It felt as if the memories were getting stronger, more intense, and there was a part of me that feared I might not be able to pull myself out of it.

“Fuck it,” I muttered.

With my fingers wrapped around the soft feather, I felt the darkness creep in, pulling away at my subconsciousness. My breath caught in my throat as my soul went through a black tunnel, throwing my body from left to right, and when the oxygen was constricted any longer, the white haze around my eyes cleared. I blinked rapidly before gazing around at my surroundings.

There was an eerie calm. But the ringing in my ear caused me to cover them for a moment. It was an annoying sound but after a moment, I got used to it and pocketed my hands in my sweats.

Movement from my right caused me to whirl around and what I saw took my breath away.

Lethia stood in front of me, in her old form. The exposed skin from her sheer white dress was clean and innocent; not a mark of ink anywhere.

The only way I knew it was Lethia was from her smile. It radiated comfort and solace, something I found myself falling for. There was a connection between us that I couldn’t explain and it drove me absolutely mad. I couldn't figure out why she felt so familiar.

Lethia was standing on a mountain's edge, the soft and quiet breeze blowing through the feathers of her wings. Her hair danced over the freckles on her shoulders and from my position behind a tree, I watched as a smile graced her face.

“I was wondering when you would show,” her angelic voice rang out.

My heart skidded in my chest and for a moment, I thought she was talking to me and I was ready to step out from behind the tree. But then another figure stepped forward, his wings breaking the branches as he emerged from the forest.

“It was hard for me to slip away, Lethia.”

She turned to face the man and I tore my gaze away from her to take in the sight of the angel. Large stone gray wings extended from his back but unlike Lethia’s, he had a design to them.

Gold lines, almost like veins, vibrated with color as he shook them out. His hair long and dark, pulled back out of his face, and Lethia brushed away a loose strand; tucking it behind his ear. From my position, I could only see the man’s back.

The white shirt clung to the muscles as he moved his arms around Lethia to bury his face in her neck. I expected to feel jealous at seeing how close they were but instead, I felt at peace.

“The King has you caged like one of his peasant animals,” she sighed deeply. “How can we ever be together?”

The man gave her a small smile. “It will all be worth it, Lethia. Soon we can go wherever we like. Leave the Kingdom.”

Her eyes widened. “Leave the Kingdom? Are you mad? Where would we go?”

“There are places outside of here. I’ve seen them and they are gorgeous. Vast fields of green, the colors here in the Kingdom pale in comparison to what I’ve seen there. The light creates a humming glow and the sounds of the birds make you want to dance.”

The two of them began to sway, dancing in the wind, and Lethia laid her head on the man’s chest.

“Oh, Knoa. This place sounds wonderful,” she sighed. “Can you take me there soon?”

He kissed the top of her head. “Soon. We can create a home there, rule the two of us. Anyone who is tired of the King’s ruling will join us.”

“How are you so sure?” Lethia gazed up at him.

“They’re all lost and looking for the meaning. I've been searching high and low for it. Some think that we will fade into nothing, going up in the smoke, and fail. Some may think we will beg the King for a mercy that we both know he would not show.”

Blinking rapidly, I looked around to see that I was back in my backyard and it took me a long moment of staring straight ahead to process what I’d seen. Lethia was with a different angel this time, not Lucifer.

Knoa.

Was this angel before or after Lucifer?

Pocketing the feather, I continued down the trail behind my house and towards the beach. The waves crashed against the rocks, echoing loudly into the dark sky above. There wasn't anyone on the beach and when I was ready to give up, I saw a flash of black off in the water.

Enormous wings lapped up the salty brine of the ocean water and the figure stood with their arms outstretched. Lethia’s face made my heart leap in my throat when I took in the euphoric bliss on the soft feature of her face.

Her wings looked heavy but the way she moved through the water at a rapid pace made it seem like they weighed nothing. I already knew what she was but seeing her in her true form silenced the lingering doubt that plagued my mind.

Lethia tip-toed out of the water, standing on the shoreline and that's when I noticed she was naked. Her perky nipples begging to be tasted and the water droplets between her breasts slipped down over her navel and towards her pussy.

“Shit,” I muttered while adjusting my cock.

Her crimson eyes snapped up at me and we stared at each other for a long moment, neither of us saying anything.

“I knew it,” I breathed.

Lethia’s lips twitched. “What?”

Taking a tentative step towards her, her wings shook causing a gust of wind to blow through my hair. They were even larger close up and the darkness of them felt like I was staring in the depths of someone's subconsciousness.

“I knew it,” I repeated without taking my eyes off the wings.

“How?” Lethia questioned, unmoving.

My eyes finally darted to her face. “I found some of your feathers and slowly things started to come together. I researched some things last night.”

Her shoulders went even more stiff. “My feathers. You’ve seen-?”

“Your memories,” I finished for her with a nod. “I’ve seen Oblivion, Lucifer, and Knoa.”

Her brows furrowed while shaking her head. “Knoa?”

“He talked to you about a new kingdom. A place where the two of you could rule,” I explained.

The confusion never left her face and that’s when I realized she had no idea who I was talking about. For a second, I thought I might have slipped into someone else's memories but I was certain it was Lethia who I saw in that particular scene.

“I saw you in your old form,” I closed the distance between us.

Her lips turned down in a scowl. “Oblivion. Do you still prefer what you see in front of you now?”

I cupped her cheek. “Definitely.”

There was a strong urge to run my fingers through the feathers but I was hesitant. If merely touching her dropped feathers dragged me into her memories, what would happen if I touched her wings?

“You can only see my memories from a dropped feather,” she answered my thoughts.

“Can you read minds?” I asked, not being able to hide the excitement in my voice.

She giggled. “No, but the hesitation in your eyes was clear.”

I raised my hand slowly. “Can I?”

When she nodded, I let my fingers brush along the softness of her wings and marveled at how they felt against the roughness of my palm. Lethia gasped which caused me to rear my hand back in worry.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No,” she shuddered. “Touch them again.”

I did and she gasped once more.

“I can feel your touch. The roughness of your fingers on each feather,” her eyes sparkled.

“I thought fallen angels couldn’t feel humans touch,” I said.

Lethia nodded while linking our hands together. “I can’t feel you here but I can feel you touch my wings.”

They encased us, protecting us from the outside world, and I felt a sense of peace fall around me. I couldn’t stop staring at them, marveled at the sheer strength and power they could possess.

“You’re not afraid?” Her voice was quiet.

I raised my brows. “Why would I be?”

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips and I wanted to taste them so bad but refrained with the look of disgust in her eyes.

Not at me but at herself.

“They’re darkness. Evil. Every part of who I am now shows my transgressions,” she said.

“That’s not who you are anymore, Lethia,” I lifted her chin with a knuckle. “I don’t know the reason why you fell but think of it as a way to leave that part of you behind. Start fresh.”

“Fresh,” she repeated, as if mewling over the word.

We stayed like this for a long moment, letting the warmth of her wings block out the chill brought on by the ocean. It was then that I realized she was still naked and I let out a low cough, trying to keep my gaze on her face still.

“Did you want to get dressed?”

“Shit,” she cursed. “I almost forgot. I was taking a bath in the ocean. The salty brine helps my wings. They’re beginning to deteriorate from hiding my true form.”

Stepping away with the opening, I watched in awe as the large wings retreated into her back, hidden away beneath the slits of skin.

“Deteriorate?” I asked while she slipped on her clothes.

My eyes cast downwards for a moment and a flash of ink on her ribs caught my attention. A green snake.

“That’s why you keep finding my feathers. They’re falling off,” Lethia explained once fully dressed.

Linking her hand with mine, I brought her into my chest to lay a chaste kiss on her lips. Even if she couldn’t feel it, she still kissed back with equal force.

“You never have to hide from me, Lethia. I want to see all of you,” I said with a stern gaze.

Crimson eyes danced between mine and with a curt nod, she let out a long breath.

“I can’t believe you figured it out on your own.”

With a smug smile, I wrapped an arm around her shoulder and began leading her back up the beach towards my house.

“I’m quite perceptive with these things,” I informed as we slipped back inside the quiet house.

It was nearing four in the morning and everyone was still asleep as we quietly ascended the stairs back to my bedroom.

“Let’s get some sleep,” I suggested while tossing back the blanket.

“Angels don’t sleep,” Lethia informed while sinking low beneath the mounds of blanket on my bed.

Once I was lying next to her, I brought her into my chest and shivered when long black nails dragged over the tattoos.

“Does that mean you can’t dream?” I asked.

“Well funny story about that. One of my powers is that I dreamwalk in others dreams. I actually walked in yours a few times, unwillingly. I go wherever I’m needed I suppose. I have this familiar that follows me in every dream; leading me,” she said.

“Wait,” I gazed down at her. “A crow? With a white stripe of feathers?”

She rested her chin in her palm. “You see him too?”

“In my dreams. So that means when I dreamt of you, that it was actually you?”

Her cheeks reddened, thinking back to the dreams I had of her. “Yeah. I don’t know why it was your dreams I always found myself in. There’s a lot of things I’m still trying to understand.”

“Could you feel it when we would have sex?” I asked slyly.

A darkness crossed her features, the one that I found myself gravitating towards.

“Right now, I can’t feel your heartbeat,” she placed a palm on my chest. “But in your dreams, I could feel every inch of you.”

Now Lethia’s hand dragged down my stomach, those sharp nails leaving red marks in their wake, and when she reached my cock, I hissed out in pleasure. She palmed my cock and I let my eyes flutter shut.

“I can’t feel you physically, but I get this feeling inside of me; almost like a fire. It’s urging me to continue because I know it’s making you feel good.”

Lethia adjusted herself so her mouth was hovering over my sweats before she hooked her fingers in the waistband, slowly dragging it down over my hips.

“You don’t have-,” I tried to say but my voice was seized from me when I felt her cool lips around the warmth of my cock.

She hummed but I couldn’t tell what it was for. I knew she couldn’t feel the way my cock hit the back of her throat but could she taste the precum that gathered at the head?

Did it taste bitter?

Was it sweet?

Fuck, I wanted to taste her so bad.

“Lethia,” I moaned, grasping at the sheets beneath me when her tongue flattened against the base of my cock.

Her movements were precise, like she knew what she was doing. Even if she couldn’t feel how perfect her mouth was on me, Lethia used my moans and sighs of pleasure to guide her.

“Just like that,” I snaked my fingers through the short tendrils of her hair to keep her in place.

Our eyes met in a blaze of seduction and the way those crimson pupils shined with curiosity of if she was doing it right, I dragged a finger over her cheek.

“So good. You’re doing so good,” I praised. “I don’t know how it’ll affect you but tap on my thigh three times if you need me to stop.”

Lethia winked and with both hands at the base of her skull, I kept her in place to fuck into her throat. My pace was relentless as the head of my cock reached the back of her throat with ease and when her fingernails grazed over my balls, I felt my body ignite. The base of my spine tingled as I let out a guttural groan, her name falling from my lips as I came into her mouth.

Her hums of tasteful pleasure intertwined with mine as I spilled every last drop down her throat. She let go of my cock with an audible pop and wiped away the drool from her mouth with a slick wipe of her finger.

“You taste so fucking good,” Lethia whispered while placing tender kisses along my stomach.

“You were able to taste me?” I asked, still breathless from my orgasm.

She nodded with a wide smile. “I couldn’t feel your cock in my mouth but I could taste you. Everything I feel with you, I feel it here.”

Her finger traced a heart over my own.

“That was better than any dream,” I mused as she tucked herself underneath my arm again.

“And no little friend watching us,” Lethia teased with a wink.

Just to add to the humor, I made a show of looking around my bedroom for the crow with the white stripe of feathers but breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank fuck,” I murmured while tucking us deeper underneath the blanket.

We were quiet for a long moment until Lethia kissed the tattoos on my chest. “Thank you for being so understanding and not running away after you found out about what I am. There’s still a lot I don’t understand about myself.”

I squeezed her shoulder. “One day at a time, angel.”

The lines in her forehead creased when the realization of what I called her sinked low in my gut.

“To on the nose?” I asked.

“No, surprisingly I like it,” Lethia patted my chest before laying her head there. “Goodnight, Noah.”

My face twitched at hearing my name on her lips but thought nothing of it as I brought the blanket higher up over us.

“Sweet dreams, angel,” I teased with a smile.

LETHIA

I was falling down to the depths beneath the earth.

My body felt weightless as the darkness underneath me started to creep without warning of when I would hit the ground. I could feel my heart pounding in my ears as I reached up towards the space in front of me, hoping by some miracle I’d be able to latch onto something.

Just as I braced for impact, the scenery changed and no longer was I falling. Instead I was standing in this unknown darkness in my angel form and my wings shook with the uncertainty of what would jump out.

“Hello?” I called out cautiously.

The silence was deafening and I couldn’t tell which way was right as I spun on my heels, my wings not even making a sound in this unknown void.

“The faith and the fighter.”

I froze at the deep voice. It sounded far away yet at the same time like it was spoken right in my ear.

“Lighting up the streets, singing for the damned.”

I whirled around, the voice now sounding farther away but I could feel the breath on the back of my neck. There was something so familiar about the richness of the voice but ice cold fear crept into my bones.

“Confessing to the choir.”

It was as if the voice was right in front of me, the warm breath fanning over my lips and I shuddered when the familiar smell tickled my nose.

No, it couldn’t be. There was no way he could be here. He couldn’t have found me.

Although, Maraxa did know where I was hiding and she could have easily told him where I was.

The all too familiar heat spread in my veins that made my wings flutter, the noise absent in the darkness. He was so close now, the anger radiating off of him in droves and I nearly collapsed with how it crushed my throat, making it hard to breathe.

Suddenly loud footsteps smacked on the ground at my feet, closer and closer. It came from in front, behind me, and on both sides. It sounded as if someone was running but I couldn’t figure out which direction.

A face appeared out of the darkness, bathed in a red glow but the even darker circles around those eyes made a broken cry fall from my lips.

“Bury every beast and we are born again!” Lucifer’s wicked smile spread across his face, showcasing the sharpness of his teeth.

The scene around me shifted, the warmth now overtaking me as I found myself standing in the middle of flames. It licked up my arms but I couldn’t feel the sting of pain. Through the lick of fire, a lone figure stood out and the pain from his screams stabbed me in my chest.

No.

No, no, no.

It isn’t.

A hand outstretched towards me, begging to be pulled from the fiery depths of Hell, and my eyes took in the sight of a tattoo; some kind of mandala flower.

“Lethia!”

I took a step towards the hand but hissed in pain when the flames caressed my skin.

“Please. Help me!”

Tears welled in my eyes as his name choked on my tongue. “No-Noah!”

“You can’t save him, my sweet Oblivion. His soul is mine,” Lucifer’s voice tickled my ear. “Just like yours is about to be.”

I woke up with a start, sitting up in bed and feeling the cool beads of sweat trickle down my back. My breathing was erratic and my veins were pumping the blood in my body so violently, I could hear it in my ears.

Noah stirred next to me and reached for me, wrapping the mandala flower tattooed hand on my thigh. I watched as his hand squeezed but felt absolutely nothing. Then that hand reached up to cup my cheek, dragging his thumb over the sharpness of my cheekbone.

Once again not able to feel anything.

I watched as his hand wrapped around behind my neck, bringing our lips together. The base of my spine vibrated, telling me that Noah’s tongue was brushing over mine. But the images of what I’d seen were hindering me, useless, unable to respond.

“What’s wrong?”

His voice was laced with exhaustion and there was guilt eating away at me for waking him up.

“I’m fine,” I dragged through my hair, trying to ease the pounding of my heart.

Noah sat up in bed, his own sleep tousled hair a mess, but he still looked gorgeous.

“It doesn’t seem like you’re fine. You’re acting like you had a nightmare?”

I thought about for a moment of lying, keeping up the ruse that I was fine, but deep down I knew I wouldn’t be.

“I don’t dream, so whatever this was,” I let out a shaky breath, trying to compose myself. “It felt too real. The flames when I tried to reach for you.”

Noah stiffened. “Flames?”

I turned towards him, pulling my knees to my chest and rested my chin on them. “I wasn’t in my own dream. I was in his.”

When Noah gave me a look of confusion, I bit my lip and said his name with fear.

“Lucifer.”

A bunch of different emotions passed through his face and I wasn’t sure how he was going to react.

“You saw me in the flames?” He asked.

I then reiterated the whole scene for him from beginning to end, not leaving any details out. Quickly, Noah left the bed to begin pacing his room and the red LED lights casted him in the same glow I’d seen Lucifer. I shuddered with that same fear, slowly sinking farther away from Noah.

“It sounds like an omen, Lethia. Lucifer shows up in your dream, tells you my soul is his. Am I going to die?” He stopped pacing to run a hand over his face.

Your lips parted to speak but hesitated for a moment to which Noah took the opportunity to speak again.

“Is that why you fell? You were sent here to tell me I’m going to die?”

“That’s not-,” I shook my head, still in my crouched position on his bed.

Noah chuckled dryly. “If that’s the case, why didn’t you tell me in the beginning? Why waste my fucking time with everything?”

My eyes narrowed. “I can assure you that I wasn’t wasting your time, Noah. It’s just that I'm still learning things. Figuring out why I fell into this time and not where Lucifer fell.”

Noah halted his pacing, dark eyes pinning me. “Is he going to stop looking for you?”

“I don’t know,” I sighed while resting my head against the wall next to Noah’s bed.

Silence fell between us for a long moment and Noah remained unmoving, eyes staring straight at me.

“What’s the point of this, Lethia?” He asked.

My eyes snapped away from the sharpness of my nails and sliced them into him. “Excuse me?”

“Lucifer won’t stop looking for you. He wants you back and it’s probably better that you’re with him instead of me,” Noah said with his hands on his hips.

I couldn’t figure out where the shift in attitude came from and it had me rising from the bed so I could stand toe to toe with him.

“This is pointless,” he continued. “You can’t feel my touch. You can’t feel anything about me. How would a relationship between us work?”

My face turned to stone, crimson eyes deepening with his words.

“That’s not fair, Noah. That’s not anything I can control,” I reminded him.

“Is that why you just magically dropped here?” He scoffed. “If I was going to fucking die you should have told me from day one.”

“I didn’t know. I swear,” I almost begged for him to believe me.

He didn’t say a thing, simply shrugged before crossing his arms over his chest. The silence between us was deafening and when I felt the tears burning in the corners of my eyes, I stood up straighter. I refused to cry for this mortal, no matter how I felt about him.

“Fuck this,” I grumbled while ripping my jacket from one of the hooks in his room and throwing it on me.

When I brushed past him, slamming my shoulder into his, Noah stumbled back but I gave no indication the push impacted me. But when the lone tear slipped down my cheek, I could hear his soft intake of breath.

“Lethia, I’m-.”

“Save it! I’m going to get some air,” I spat while slamming his bedroom door shut behind me.

By now, his roommates were awake and lingering throughout the house downstairs. As I reached the front door, Michael’s voice called out after me.

“Lethia, are you alright?”

But I didn’t bother saying anything. It wasn’t worth it. None of these mortals mattered anymore. My life wasn’t something that concerned them anymore and in the haste of my fight with Noah, I had one goal in mind.

Find Uriel.

However, my thunderous footsteps stopped when four figures stepped out of the dark street and boxed me in. My head snapped in all different directions and when the one familiar face stepped even closer, a low scowl pulled on my face.

“Ceecee,” I snarled.

The man adjusted the black bandana around his forehead before winking. “Nice to see you as well, Lethia. Although I must say, you’ve changed since we've seen you last.”

I rolled my eyes. “Tell me something I don’t already know.”

The man with spiked up black hair spoke next. “Do you know how long we’d been looking for you?”

“For all eternity, Jake?” I joked with not an ounce of humor in my voice.

“I never remembered you being such a jokester,” said Jinx, one of the other men.

I turned towards him with an unamused shrug. “But I do remember Lucifer always sending his little bitches to do his dirty work.”

The last man, taller than the others, wore a sour smile.

“Always the conversationalist, Lonny,” I faux sighed. “Nothing to say this time?”

His dark eyes never left my face. “I said everything I needed to say before.”

“Oh, that’s right,” I snapped. “You accused me of keeping Lucifer from his true potential. I was a snake in the grass.”

“Was I wrong?” Lonny extended his hands wide. “We all fell for your transgression.”

My upper lip recoiled. “Lucifer led me astray. It’s because of his betrayal to the King we all fell.”

Ceecee made a show of groaning while tying away the long strands of hair from his face. “You can come with us the easy way or the hard way.”

“NO! Please, not the hard way,” I overplayed my helpless voice before a dark chuckle fell from my lips. “We know all of you together are no match for me. I was higher ranked than you four up in the Kingdom.”

“Things are different now,” Jake said, his leather jacket slick from the earlier rain.

“You know, I’m surprised Maraxa isn’t here,” I clicked my tongue.

Lonny chuckled low behind me. “Lucifer was upset with her failed attempts so she’s chained in hell.”

I cocked a brow while glancing over my shoulder at him. “I take it as Lucifer is there, watching her beg for his forgiveness?”

“No, he’s actually been up here in the mortal realm for quite some time. Closer than you think,” Jinxed explained.

My arms were extended wide with a playful smirk on my lips. “I’m right here. Tell him to come and get me.”

“I already have.”

A voice inside my mind spoke and my wings exploded from my back as I turned towards that voice only to be met with darkness as it overtook all of my senses.

NOAH

I sat in my computer chair, knee bouncing so fast I was sure the guys could hear the floor shaking downstairs. I couldn’t stop biting the skin on the pad of my thumb as the worry began eating away at me. Lethia had been gone for almost an hour and with no way to reach her, I was at a loss of what to do.

I never meant the things I said. Us being together, whatever this relationship was, wasn’t pointless. I knew it was wrong of me to use the fact she couldn't feel my touch against her but when Lethia told me that Lucifer was not only after her soul but mine as well, I got scared. If you would have told me last month that I’d find myself falling for a fallen angel and had to worry about Lucifer coming after her, I would have laughed in your face.

My life had been soley Bad Omens until Lethia arrived. Now things changed and Lethia slowly became top on my priority list. For example, finding where she went.

Just as I sat up from my chair, ready to head downstairs and ask the guys for help, Jesse appeared at the open doorway of my bedroom.

“Hey,” he said. “Everything alright?”

No. Far from it. My girlfriend's, who's not my girlfriend, her ex-boyfriend is after her soul and mine.

I shifted on my feet while stuffing my hands in my pockets. “I don’t think so. Lethia and I had a fight. She stormed out of here almost an hour ago and I thought she’d be back by now but I’m worried something is wrong.”

Jesse nodded and held out his keys. “We can take my car.”

Quickly slipping on a sweater, I followed him down the stairs and filled in the rest of the guys in on our plan. To which Jolly and Orie said they’d go out looking as well and Michael would stay in case she came back.

Two hours later after scouring almost all of downtown L.A and our neighborhood twice, there was no sign of Lethia. But it wasn’t until we were walking back up the steps to the house that my eyes caught sight of the large black feather there.

How had I missed that before?

I gently covered it with my shoe as Orie, Jolly, and Jesse walked up.

“Have you tried calling her?” Orie wondered.

“Voicemail,” I lied, knowing she didn’t have a phone.

It was now mid afternoon and I knew the guys had plans to work on the studio for a bit so after thanking them for their help, I told them I was going to hang outside for the time being.

Once alone, I hastily picked up the feather beneath my shoe and felt that all too familiar feeling of my soul being dragged through the dark subconscious of Lethia’s mind.

I landed five houses down from my own to see a group of four men standing over the crumbled body of Lethia, who was protecting herself with her large wings.

“Hm, it’s a shame what she became. Are we sure he’ll even want her back,” a man wearing a bandana asked.

The tallest of the group and dark curly hair snorted. “If he doesn’t, I’m sure we could find use for her down there. We’re always in need of slaves.”

One of the men with spiky hair lifted Lethia’s body with ease and it was then I got a good look at her face. No marks indicating she was hurt but my heart stopped in my chest when I noticed how white and vacant her eyes were.

“Is Lucifer in the same place we left him?”

The man with the bandana nodded. “As soon as he found out where Lethia was staying, he refused to leave. He wanted to remain close.”

“Remember what he said Jake, not a hair on her head is to be misplaced. He wants her in all her glory.”

Jake rolled his eyes while adjusting his grip on Lethia. “How do you think he’ll react when he smells that mortal on her?”

“It will be a death that I cannot wait to experience,” The taller man smirked before all four of them extended their wings, all differentiating in size and color.

My eyes blinked a few times as I felt the earth tilt back on its axis, everything coming back to me with a force that had my breath shaking. Four angels took Lethia and they had plans to bring her back to Lucifer. I didn’t know where but what I did know was that they were close. And that once he found out Lethia and I had been together, it would only mean one thing for her.

Death.

“Fuck,” I raked a shaking hand through my hair. “Fuck!”

The sounds of fluttering wings echoed behind me and I swiftly turned on my feet, expecting to see Lethia but instead saw the crow. It was perched on a branch up in the large willow tree in our yard and its wings were extended wide, showcasing the white stripe between its feathers.

“Where is she?” I asked the bird.

Its response was a simple caw.

“You’re her familiar. You know where she is,” my voice raised.

Now the crow didn’t make a noise. Its dark eyes watched me intently as I did the same to it. I could feel the anger beginning to boil over that stemmed from my fight with Lethia and an afternoon spent trying to look for her, only to be met with this fucking bird that wouldn’t stop staring at me.

“If you’re not going to be any fucking help, then leave me alone!” I yelled while throwing a rock at the bird, hitting its left wing.

It cried out in pain before fluttering out of the tree and off into a direction I didn’t bother to follow. There was only one way I could possibly talk with Lethia and figure out where she was.

I needed to go to sleep.

LETHIA

My eyes slowly opened, a feeling behind them causing a slight groan to fall from my lips. This was a new feeling; pain. I hadn't felt something like this since I fell to earth all those months ago.

So why could I feel my insides burning?

Groggily looking to my left, I took in the chains around my wrist with a curious pull of my brows. There were markings all along the cuffs and my eyes doubled when I recognized those markings.

Ancient markings. Ones that hadn't been seen in eons.

Ancient markings that were created for one thing and one thing only. I knew because it was me who created them.

Power binding markings. To help keep an angel trapped in imprisonment.

"No, no," I whispered, trying with all my strength to fight against my bindings.

It was futile. There was no way out.

When I looked to my right and saw the same bindings, I did my best to remain calm. There had to be a way out of this. I was the one who created these sigils, surely I could find a way out.

I thought back to what happened moments before my capture. The fight, the accusations, and the hurt look in his eyes.

"Noah," I breathed while closing my eyes, trying to dream walk into his mind.

Blocked.

Cursing under my breath, I knew the reason why I was blocked had to be because he wasn't asleep.

A sudden movement from my left made my head snap up and the rage festered low in my gut when those four familiar men stepped into view.

"You were always the ones sent to do his dirty work," I chuckled while rising to my knees.

Ceecee smiled wickedly. "He was tired of waiting. Maraxa clearly wasn't the right one for the job."

I clicked my tongue against my teeth. "Right, you said she’s chained in hell. Was that before or after trying to get into bed with him?"

"No, malach. That place belongs to you."

I froze at hearing that name; it had been so fucking long since it was uttered in my presence.

Angel in Hebrew.

There was only one being that ever called me that.

No. No. No. It can't be.

The dark voice loomed in the shadows and I whirled my head to the right in time to see his face emerge from the darkness; those piercing blue eyes locking into my soul.

"Lucifer," I shuddered while pulling on the bindings, to no avail.

He cocked his head to the side, those eyes drinking in the sight of me before he bent low to his knees. Our faces were mere inches from each other and with one gaze down to those lips, memories of us lying together up in the Kingdom replayed in my mind on a loop.

I couldn’t figure out why he looked different from the images I had been seeing around town lately.

“I played with your mind, creating a different version of me. It was easy to control you, Lethia. Your mind has become weak since the fall,” Jinx said.

I snarled while rising to my feet, ready to attack, but was pulled back by my bindings.

“I should have known you were inside my mind, Jinx. This entire time, I thought it was Maraxa.”

He chuckled darkly while crossing his arms over his chest. “Please, she was weak before the fall. She couldn’t hold a candle to the things I’ve done.”

Lucifer held up a hand when I was about to have a witty remark.

“Enough!” His voice boomed throughout the small room I was held in.

The four men behind him slinked farther back into the darkness, like puppies who were just scolded for chewing something they shouldn’t have.

“Lucifer’s bitches,” I repeated my words from earlier with a smirk.

His hand gently cupped my cheek, forcing me to look at him in those blue depths.

"I haven't been called Lucifer in quite some time, not since the fall. Humans aren't too keen on it when you tell them your name is literally the devil. You can call me my mortal name."

I swallowed thickly. "Which is?"

The grin that spread to his face was a wicked one and made my heart drop with fear.

“You can call me Andy.”

#noah sebastian #bad omens #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian angst #noah sebastian x fallenangel!oc #mercy noah sebastian

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jobean12-blog · 2 years

Text

Boys in Bed with Books (23)-Joel Miller

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

Word Count: 777

Summary: Joel is always the one in control but when he’s reading and relaxing you take the opportunity to turn the tables...or so you think.

Author’s Note: I’ve missed my Boys in Bed so here we are again...had to do Joel and thank you to my sweet Nat @blackwidownat2814 for giving me the encouragement. Love and appreciate you always! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you sweets! 🥰

Warnings: some (d)omish vibes- maybe a little, (o)ral, lots of yummies, some softness too (18+ONLY PLEASE!!!)

GIF NOT MINE: Credit goes to @joelmjller thank you lovely🥰

Boys in Bed with Books Masterlist

Joel Miller Masterlist

“Reading again?”

Joel looks up from his book, his eyes following you as you move around the room.

“You seem surprised sweetheart,” he hums.

“I’m happy. You look relaxed,” you reply, turning away to search for clothes in your dresser drawer.

You start to undress, leaving only your shirt on as you grab your towel and get ready for a shower. Before going into the bathroom you stop by the bed and peer at the cover of Joel’s book.

“The Martian,” you say softly. “An Ellie recommendation?”

“Actually, I picked this one myself.”

He looks proud and your smile widens.

“She’s going to love that,” you tell him before kissing his cheek. “How is it so far?”

“Really good…there’s a lot of Science, I’m learning.”

“Even better,” you tease.

His fingers dance under the hem of your shirt and brush your bare hip before tightening and pulling you closer. He bends his head to yours and his hand trails teasingly down the soft skin of your inner thigh.

“Are you makin’ fun of me darlin’?” he murmurs.

You close your eyes and ghost your lips across his.

“I’m going to shower,” you answer, slipping from his grasp with your bottom lip caught between your teeth.

You can feel the heat of his stare as you walk into the bathroom and with one last look back you see his hand curled into a fist as his gaze devours you.

When you step back into the bedroom, the sight of Joel lying on the bed, one hand behind his head and the other resting on his chest over the now closed book, has you feeling a rush of want.

His eyes are closed and his face is peaceful and at first the thought of disturbing him fills you with trepidation, but as you continue to watch him and he shifts with a whisper of your name you gain the confidence to take control and help him relax even more.

On that note, you let your towel fall to the floor and climb onto the bed. You crawl up his body and place soft kisses along his chest.

He groans and his hands quickly find your bare skin, his touch reverent as they smooth along your curves. His eyes open, mixed with sleepiness and desire.

“What are you up to darlin’? he asks, his voice thick with heat.

In answer you slide back down his body and finger the button of his jeans until it pops open. He stares through half lidded eyes as you drag his jeans down far enough to release him.

“Oh fuck baby,” he moans when your head dips.

Your fingers dig into the muscles of his thighs as they tense and his breathing stutters when you take him into your mouth.

Your movements are deliberately languid and he flexes his hips, pushing himself deeper past your lips.

After a little more teasing, you begin to work him harder, gazing at him from under your lashes and feeling a rush of heat between your legs when you see grab at the sheets with his hands. He curls his fingers into the fabric, a hiss slipping through his gritted teeth as he throws his head back against the pillow.

Just as you feel him drawing close, you release him.

“Darlin’, what are you doin’?” he growls, lifting his head and pinning you with an almost pained look.

“I need you inside of me,” you whisper.

His frustration disappears instantly.

“Then get the fuck up here and ride me.”

His gruff demand makes you clench around nothingness but you steel yourself and give him a demure lift of your shoulders, slowly dragging his jeans off and savoring the desperation in his words.

“Patience,” you purr.

His jaw is clenched tightly and he grinds his teeth, eyes dark.

You make your way back up his body, trailing kisses along the cut of muscle at his hip, before straddling him.

His rough hands reach for you, grabbing your waist and grinding you down over him before his fingers graze your stomach and dip between your legs. Your hand moves to his, wanting to take back control but he brushes it aside.

“Stop it or I’ll stop darlin’,” he warns as he spreads you open.

You gasp his name, your back arching and your nails digging into his skin as you relinquish all power, silently giving in to him.

His eyes fly to yours, his lips parted and his chest rising and falling rapidly. His free hand lifts to curl around your neck and he drags your mouth down to his, whispering against your lips, “don’t forget you belong to me.”

@justkinsey @flordeamatista

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fic #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us #boys in bed with books

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wayfayrr · 7 months

Note

Hello!

If it's alright with you, can I get a spiked Latte and some Christmas pudding to eat in please?

I absolutely love your writings and all of your works! You're definitely one of my favorite authors (*´꒳`*)

I hope you have a great day/night and a Happy Holiday!

- 𐂂 anon (if that's okay with you ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ)

it's more than alright!! welcome to this little corner of our hellsite elk!! (if you don't mind me calling you that ofc) I've seen you over on fir's blog assuming this is the same 𐂂 and it's lovely to meet you myself, I hope you're having a lovely day too <3

I wrote this one as a continuation to the other first request seeing as it flowed well and felt like the most natural thing to do. I hope you'll enjoy your order and your time here <3

[event masterlist]

“My deity? Is this not to your taste, did - did I do something wrong?”

What am I supposed to say to that? I feel like I’m about to throw up or pass out, not to mention the countless things in between. He’s standing in front of me with a bloody heart, all the while looking at me like a puppy begging for approval.

“You - wh- where-”

don’tpassoutdon’tpassoutdon’tpassoutDON’TPASSOUT

[name] if you pass out here then none of the links will be able to help you, you cannot pass out. Just - just ask him to get rid of it, but he looked so proud of it.

“Ple- please can you just… I don’t need that, can you… just - please get rid of it.”

He seemed dejected when I said that but he -thankfully- didn’t question it. Just left without another word with a defeated look on his face now leaving me all alone to settle myself enough to try get some sleep. Just - just have to get the image of that out of my head, else I might never be able to sleep till I do. Maybe the others wouldn’t mind me going to share a room with one of them for the night but there’s always the chance they won’t let me live this down they have gone through worse than I have after all. No, it’s not worth the chance of embarrassing yourself infront of them like that, you’re fine in here on your own all you need to do is get changed and get into bed it’s easy; what chance will you have to get in a normal bed again anyway?

Going through the familiar motions of getting changed is grounding, calming even, throwing myself onto the bed and wrapping myself up in the plush blanket just helps even more. Falling asleep really won’t be hard.

Mhpm why am I up? It’s not that much darker so I can’t have been asleep for much more than half an hour or so and I’ve never been a light sleeper like this. Who’s in the bed with me?

There’s a hand around you - look at that and then panic. Why is it cove-

“...First?”

“My deity? I thought you were sleeping?”

“And I - I - you… I - didn’t you say - didn’t I ask you to get rid of the blood?”

Oh fuck. Why is he holding me tighter now and… he’s sobbing. My back’s getting wet but it's not blood I hope, he’s just using me as a - a pillow. What did hylia do to him to mess him up this badly? From what he said before…she had to have something to do with why he’s like this. He can’t even breathe through his tears right now…

“Firs- link. Can we talk about - you know - all of this?”

Just more tears and half-hearted breaths. Is he forcing himself to be like this? Maybe if I can hold him it’ll help comfort him somehow. He- he has surprisingly strong arms considering, you shouldn’t be surprised, he probably beat that man to death with his bare hands, the fact that he was tortured and starved in a dungeon for who knows how long.

“If not now… In the morning at least? Please?”

A pout and a wet sniffle while he wipes his eyes to calm himself.

“You know acting like this - it isn’t healthy. I - you can’t go around gifting me peoples hearts - that - that is not normal.”

“... if you say I must my deity.”

I’ll take it.

Even with the puppy dog eyes he’s making at me.

#𐂂 anon #I regret making this winter themed LMAO #thought I'd be finished with a lot fewer asks though #so ig hindsight is just a bitch #btw been playing with the thought of opening a kofi? would anyone be up for that? just as a lil hypothetical #yandere link #yandere linked universe #yandere linked universe x reader #linked universe x reader #link x reader #moss✦writes #300 event

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velvethopewrites · 1 year

Text

The sob story with this is that I wrote this yesterday and it got deleted before I could save it. I wanted to die cry, basically. Somehow I managed to re-create most of it, after working on it all damn day. (I basically ended up writing over 6,000+ words in one day. Yowza) I still feel as though the first version was better, but…no one knows that but me, I suppose. (And my partner, who got to read it right before the horrors happened). Regardless, I am proud of this and proud of myself for not giving up when it really would have been easy to. So huzzah to the fickle hand of fate and all that stuff.

For Suptober 2023 prompt “starlight”

I tag @fellshish and @canonblastedships and @clarkenting for being super cool reblog buddies, lol (which is just a thing I made up) This is the longest destiel fic I’ve written yet and it will be my first official AO3 destiel! (As soon as I remember how to do that, oy)

Edited: Now with Spiffy AO3 Link! Here!

The Starlight

There were three types of people that visited the Starlight Lounge — drunks, people desperate to score, and the employees that made their bread and butter trying to tame the other two.

Dean Winchester, unfortunately, was a member of that third group. Oh, sure, Dean had been known to put away a fair bunch of liquor in his day, and sure, Dean had definitely been known to do the Bedroom Rodeo whenever the opportunity presented itself. Hell, back when he’d first started at the Starlight he’d often been three types at once. Work, drink, get laid. Sometimes, not even in that order.

But that was past Dean. Current and newly mature Dean (hah) just wanted to work, go home, eat and fall into his bed. Working at the Starlight wasn’t that bad – it had fairly decent pay and it was often interesting. And like everyone else, Dean had bills to pay and he gave more than his fair share to Sammy. Not that Sam really needed it anymore; he was busy working as a law clerk downtown, putting himself through school. But still, Dean wanted to help as much as he could and besides it was his brotherly duty. Heh. Duty.

Tonight, due to the cold and rainy weather, the bar was fairly empty and business had been slow. There was only one of his regulars, a writer by the name of Chuck crying into his notebooks at the back of the bar. To be honest, Dean had never seen Chuck write a damn thing but the man sure could put scotch away like a pro. There was also a young couple making out in one of the booths near the restrooms. He’d been keeping an eye on them most of the night, actually, making sure no one lost any clothing. The Starlight didn’t need a public indecency charge on the books. At least, not so soon since the last one, at any rate.

Dean yawned and finished cleaning up the bar, hoping Chuck and the couple on their way to Soft-Porn Town would soon be leaving. Maybe Dean could even push them on their way a bit early, so he could get home at a decent time, for once. As he walked over towards Chuck to perhaps lightly suggest the writer hit the road, the double doors of the bar blew open – bringing in the rain, the cold rush of the wind and a new customer in a beige trench coat with seriously fucked up hair. Great.

Dean sighed and turned back around as the new guy slumped onto the first stool at the bar. His dark brown, messed up hair looked even worse up close, and he had a scowl on his face as he glared down at the bar in front of him.

“Whiskey. Neat,” Messy-Hair said, voice low and very rumbly.

Dean pulled down a clean glass and poured some of their nicer whiskey into it. Dude looks like he could afford it, at any rate. He had a nice suit on under the coat, now that Dean could properly see it and his watch was one of those big clunky things that could probably tell the time on Jupiter or some shit like that. The man’s hand reaches for the glass before Dean has barely pushed it forward. He throws back the drink in record time and hits the bar with it so that it makes a loud thunk.

“Another one.”

Dean shrugged as the man kept glaring down at the bar as though it contained all the answers to life and everything else; Dean knew for a fact that it didn’t. It didn’t even have a ‘42’ scratched into it or anything. (RIP Douglas Adams)

This time the man just wraps his hand around the glass, his fingers clutching at it and woah, Dean thinks, dude’s got some huge fucking hands. They’re big and they’re strong looking. The fingers are nice and long and graceful and oh, oh, oh. Maybe it’s a kink, or maybe it’s a preference, but Dean loves hands. Manly looking mitts like Messy-Hair here and even smaller, more delicate hands like on most women, with pretty nail colors. But Dean’s not choosy.

He sees motion out of the corner of his eye and notices Chuck signaling that he’d like to pay up. Glancing at Messy-Hair he figures he has a few minutes before having to pour him another so he sets the bottle down and heads over to the other side.

“All right there, Chuck?”

“Yeah, yeah, thank you, Dean.”

The older man is flipping through his wallet and counting out his cash slowly. Dean wipes the bar and puts Chuck’s last glass into the bucket for later cleaning.

“Write anything tonight?” Dean always asks this question. It’s like a little game he and Chuck play because it always has the same answer.

“No,” Chuck says looking up at him. He places his finger to his temple solemnly, almost like he’s holding a gun. “But I did a lot of work up here.”

He always gives Dean this look as though Dean should know exactly what he’s talking about. But, of course, Dean never does. He likes to read but he sure as hell would never attempt to write. Personally, he thinks Chuck is sort of crazy, but hey, to each their own, right?

Chuck pushes his notebooks into his old canvas bag on the bar. It’s bulging with everything he carries with him and looks fit to burst. Dean supposes that writer’s block is heavy business.

Chucks nods goodnight as he slips his bag over his shoulders, buckling a bit under the weight. Dean watches as he wobbles away and he’s not sure if it’s from the alcohol or the bag. He’d normally be worried (hey, no bar can stay in business if all its clientele got themselves killed), but he knows Chuck lives nearby. He’ll be all right and probably in his same spot tomorrow evening. He puts Chuck’s money into the till and realizes he tipped Dean more than usual. He really did have had a good night, then.

He notices the couple trying to break the world record for smooches in a single night are getting up and putting on their jackets. Maybe Dean can get out early; he’s got the DVR set for Dr Sexy already, but he wouldn’t say no to catching it live for once.

Glancing over he sees Messy-Hair is now resting his head on the bar, but he lifts it as the doors bang shut behind Chuck, the cold burst of wind making his hair looking even more disheveled. Dean heads back over to see if he needs a refill and is suddenly struck dumb by the other man finally looking at him. Holy Mother of Blue, those are some eyes. The dude is handsome. Like old-time movie handsome. Strong jaw, with a smattering of scruff, pink soft lips and eyes that look like they can see into your soul, no, scratch that, not see, but pierce. Dean swallows roughly and picks up the whiskey bottle.

“Hey, uh, it’s getting late. One more for the road?” Dean assumes the dude doesn’t know the Starlight is technically open until midnight. Assumes, hah. More like prays.

Blue-Eyes stares at him and frowns. “I thought this establishment closed at midnight.”

“Er, yeah. I suppose it does.”

“Then I’ll take another,” Blue-Eyes pauses and holds out his glass. “And keep them coming for the next forty-five minutes, barkeep.”

Dean blinks at the old-fashioned word and pours another round. They stare at each other until he hears a giggle and a clearing of a throat. He looks over to see the couple and wonders how long they’ve been waiting. Judging from the churlish look on the guy’s face and the barely contained laughter emanating from the girl, it’s been awhile. He settles their tab and takes their money (lousy tip, of course) as the two saunter past Blue-Eyes and escape out into the night. Well, at least Dean can see it’s stopped raining.

Making up his mind, he follows them from behind the bar and locks the door after them. He flips off the sign, too. He may be stuck here with Blue-Eyes, but he’ll be damned if he’ll let someone else come meandering in to make him get home even later.

He comes back to stand in front of his customer and makes a decision. Pulling down another glass, he pours some of the whiskey into it and sighs as the warmth of it hits his system. What do they always say about good whiskey? It should warm the cockles of the heart, or something like that. Not that Dean actually knows what a cockle is, but hey, it went down smooth.

He realizes Blue-Eyes is watching him and Dean decides to bite the bullet. He’s tired, bored and probably on his way to cranky town if Blue-Eyes keeps his word about the next forty-five minutes.

“So, what brings you out on a cold and rainy night like tonight, Mr, uh…what’s your name? I can’t keep calling you what I’ve been calling you in my head.”

The other man squints and tilts his head at Dean like a tiny, confused bird. And no, Dean doesn’t find that adorable at all. Nope.

“What have you been calling me in your head?”

Dean purses his lips. Sometimes he’s really an idiot. He gives Blue-Eyes a shaky laugh.

“I said I wasn’t gonna keeping doing that.”

They stare at each other again, neither one budging until Blue-Eyes releases a breath and blinks, shoulders slumping a bit more. By the end of the night Dean expects this guy to be melted into the floor.

“Cas.”

Dean frowns. “Your name is Mr Cas?”

“No, just Cas.” Blue-Eyes, no, scratch that, Cas then holds out his hand so Dean can shake it like they’re fellow professionals meeting at a party or something. As he grips the other man’s hand in his own he realizes Cas’s hand is warm, dry, and, yep, strong. The dude is seriously ticking all of Dean’s boxes without even trying. It’s a bit unnerving, really.

“Is that short for something?” Dean asks, wondering what type of name that is.

Cas just looks at him over the rim of his glass. “Perhaps.”

Neither of them say anything else for a long moment and Dean shakes his head. “People ever tell you you talk too much?”

“Yes. All the time,” Cas says with a smirk.

Dean laughs. “Well, whatever. It’s officially nice to meet you, Cas. I’m Dean. Humble and professional barkeep at your service.”

“Hello, Dean.”

Cas’s voice is deep but there’s a warmth to it that makes Dean happy. They chit-chat for a bit, just like Dean would do with any newbie to the bar. He pours them both another round and then tries his question again.

“So, you seemed a bit upset earlier. What brought you through my doors, Cas?”

Cas sighs and glances away. He taps his fingers lightly on the polished wood of the bar. He stares at Dean as though assessing him and then looks as though he’s made up his mind.

“My…er, the person I’ve been dating, dumped me tonight. We went to an expensive restaurant and ordered far too pricey food for the serving size and drank outrageously fancy wine. Then they ordered an expensive bottle of cognac, drank it all and then told me I wasn’t worth it.”

Dean winces. “Ouch. How long were you together?”

“Six months.”

“Well, it’s not too long for a relationship, but it’s long enough to hurt.”

Cas nods, looking sullen again.

“What special occasion was it?”

Cas stares at him. “How could you possibly know that?”

“Fancy restaurant, the way you’re dressed, the cognac. Nobody orders that unless there’s been a birth or an anniversary or both.”

“It was my birthday,” Cas says, looking down again.

“Fuck,” Dean blurts out without thinking. “And they dumped you? Seriously bad juju, man.”

Cas nods and takes another drink of his whiskey, looking miserable. Dean tops off both of their glasses and hums.

“What was his name?”

Cas whips his head up, suddenly looking confused and more than a little worried. “I never said it was a he.”

“It was your distinct lack of pronouns, dude. Always the dead giveaway. Trust me, as a guy who plays for both sides, I know. Pronouns are key. Hey, relax, Cas, this is a safe space.” Dean points to the small pride flag he keeps above the bar and watches as Cas visibly relaxes.

The silence that falls between them is comfortable now. Welcoming, even. Cas clears his throat and rests his hand on his chin, peering at Dean.

“So…you’re bi, I assume or, pan, perhaps?”

“Got it in one. Just another bisexual loser ruining the world one lay at a time.”

Dean winks to show he’s only kidding. He’s proud to be bi, but it doesn’t mean he can’t make a joke at his own expense. Of course, if Sam or his friend Charlie were here they’d both tell him what they thought of that.

“His name was Bartholomew.”

Dean snorts. “It fits him. Douche-y name for a douche-canoe.”

Cas barks out a laugh and it completely changes his face into something truly beautiful. Dean suddenly feels the need to always make Cas laugh like that. He can’t imagine anyone not wanting to – his laugh is infectious. And the light it puts in his eyes is irresistible.

Cas looks serious again as he swirls the rest of the whiskey in his glass. “To be honest, Bart was just the last in a long line of failed…connections. I’m doubting my own self-worth at this point. Everyone ends up leaving or they get fed up with me. I’m too introverted…too socially awkward to deal with, I suppose.”

“I don’t know, you seem to be doing okay right now.”

“I’ve been drinking,” Cas says, deadpan. “And also I’m paying you.”

Dean chuckles. “Not really, I decided to stop charging you as soon as I poured my first one.”

“Your hospitality know no bounds. Truly.”

Dean laughs. Cas’s dry delivery and poker-faced expressions really are the limit. He feels that familiar warmth he always gets when he meets someone new. A someone new that excites him. But he pushes the feeling aside because he knows on some level that trying to get into Cas’s pants is so not what the other man needs right now. Dean shivers as he realizes how damn mature that sounds. Next he’ll be looking into 401ks and cemetery plots.

“Well, consider them birthday drinks. Of course, this stuff doesn’t cost a small fortune or anything, but I figured you’d already paid out enough tonight.”

Cas smirks and shakes his head at Dean. “Thank you, Dean. It’s actually very kind of you to…take pity on me.”

He says it jokingly but Dean gets the sense that he means it. He reaches forward and touches Cas’s hand.

“Hey, no pity here. You are ridiculously attractive and if I didn’t have a conscience, I’d definitely be throwing out my best lines here to help you relieve some tension, if you know what I mean. And you are not awkward to me, but even if you were, it wouldn’t be enough to stop me from asking for your number or seeing if you wanted to meet up sometime. I barely know you but you seem like a decent guy, Cas. And I think all of those people that don’t get you can just fuck right off. You need to keep trying, man. Don’t give up just because a few losers couldn’t see what they had.”

Cas blinks at Dean, blue eyes getting huge. “You think I’m ridiculously attractive?”

Dean thinks back. Did he say that? Yeah, he said that. Figures that would be the only thing to register with the dude.

“What sort of line would you use on me? I mean, if you were going to, that is.” Cas shyly glances away and then back, a curious look on his face.

“Oh, uh, probably something like, well you know what they say — the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.” Dean waggles his eyebrows and smirks, faking a leer.

“I’m not sure that would work with me,” Cas says, mirth clear in his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. You’d make me work for it, I know. But seriously, you need to regroup, clear out the douche-canoes from your life and find a new guy, man.”

Cas smiles at him in fondness, and nope, Dean is not going to do it. He will not break his rule about dating people just out of relationships. Not even for big huge blue eyes that make him feel sappy like a love song. Cas, however, clearly has other plans.

“This may be forward but, um, Dean would you allow me take you out for dinner? As a date, in case you were wondering how I meant it.”

“Oh, wow, Cas, um, I mean…”

Cas’s face takes an interesting journey in two seconds – from hopeful joy to miserable and wretched. Dean feels his heart break a little bit for him in that moment and mentally kicks his own ass for being a tool.

“Oh, I see. I…I’m sorry, Dean. Thank you for hospitality.” Cas fumbles with his wallet and places far too much money next to his glass. “I won’t keep you anymore. Go home and enjoy whatever is left of your night.”

Dean watches dumbly as Cas sits up straighter and then turns in his seat, his broad shoulders unyielding, suddenly. Dean knows he just can’t let it end like this.

“No, wait, Cas!”

Dean practically flings himself around the bar to reach Cas before he can unlock the door and leave without a backwards glance. He rests his hand on Cas’s shoulder, stopping him.

“It’s only because I have a rule about dating people that just got out of a relationship. It has nothing to do with you, I promise you. You need to focus on you, dude. Figure out what you’re looking for. If this one was just the last in a long line of guys who don’t understand you, try and see what people you’re going for. I mean, I’m no expert, and God knows I’ve had my fair share of jumping before looking moments, but I think you just need some Cas time right now, you know? If we ever start something I do not want to be rebound guy and you deserve something better than a one night stand.”

Cas stares at him, blue eyes half in shadow. Dean holds his breath, hoping he didn’t just lose something. All he can hear is the clock ticking behind him and the pounding of his own heart in his ears.

“That was quite the speech,” Cas finally says. “You sound like you know from experience.”

“Cas, man. You have no idea.”

“I have some, like I said, a long line of rejections. Still…” Cas’s eyes search his face and then nods to himself. “Maybe you’re right. I do tend to do things without thinking in this area of life despite being very practical usually. And you’re also right on anther point, Dean. You do not deserve to be “rebound guy”.”

Dean can’t help his grin as Cas makes the quotes motion with his fingers. They stare at each other for a bit longer before he unlocks the door. Cas steps out as the cold air filters in between them, causing them bother to shiver. Dean pauses, and then holds out his hand. “Let me have your phone.”

“My phone?”

“Yeah, you have one, right? Or have you moved on to something flashier like sky writing?”

Cas snorts and shakes his head. He fumbles in his pockets and then pulls out a slim, black smartphone. He unlocks it and hands it over. Of course, it’d be that kind of phone that can help you bake bread or turn off all the lights in the world with just a click or something. He finally finds what he’s looking for and puts his contact information in.

“There. There’s my number. Text me to let me know you get home, okay? And as for the rest, we’ll take it one day at a time, Cas. Let’s be friends, first.”

Cas smiles shyly as he looks down at his phone and nods. “Friends, first. I like that. Goodnight, Dean.”

“Goodnight, buddy. Be safe.”

Cas slips out and away, leaving a coldness in his wake as he takes his body heat with him. Dean watches him go, the black of the night almost swallowing him up. Cas pauses to pull his coat tighter, the glow of the streetlight lighting up his profile. To Dean he looks pure—angelic, almost, like a painting or a sculpture. With one last look at Dean, he eventually fades away, disappearing back into the world. Soon all Dean can see is his own breath in the air and the twinkling starlight from the surprisingly clear sky above. He locks up again and finishes his routine for the night. After he’s put the money in the safe and headed out back to his car, he feels happy inside. Like something good just occurred — like some new path has been cleared for him to travel. His drive home is quick and easy, there’s hardly any traffic mostly due to the earlier rain. It’s just as he’s pulling into his driveway that he feels his phone buzz in his pocket. It’s from an unknown number and his heart beats faster as he reads the message.

From unknown: I arrived home safely, Dean. Thank you, again. Would you like to get coffee tomorrow, or, perhaps I should say, later today? Oh, this is Cas, by the way. In case you didn’t know. :)

Dean saves the number and then returns to the message to reply, a grin creeping onto his face before he even realizes it.

Dean: Of course, dude. Coffee sounds great. Around 1pm?

Cas: Perfect. Do you know the Blue Java Café on Marion and Elm? It’s across from the park and one of my favorite places.

Dean: Sounds good. Can’t wait to talk to you sober, ya lush… (lol j/k hah)

Cas sends him a sticking-tongue-out emoji as a response and Dean chuckles as he locks up his car. He has a nice, happy feeling in his heart as he thinks of Cas. Like maybe this is something special. Or maybe it’s just that it could be and has the potential to be. He knows he told Cas friends first, but Dean’s willing to see where it…where they, can go.

#suptober23 #destiel #prompt:starlight #dean and cas #meet-cute #my writing #biting nails here #like posting stuff is scary #wth #I am not used this anymore #castiel #dean winchester

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rodeoxqueen · 2 months

Note

Howdy rodeo, may I request some hc of Vergil with a fem s/o who's experiencing extreme hair loss? Life has been hard for me recently and i couldn't bring myself to get out of bed and do basic hygiene. In the process, i noticed that my hair fell so much- too much even. It makes me even more sad bcs im planning to grow my hair... now that im all clean and had showered just a few days ago, i get even more devastated because i can feel my hair is not as full as before when i try to tie it up... i hope you don't experience the same thing as me rodeo. Have a nice day, anyway 💙

Howdy darl,

I'm real sorry that happened. Truth is, I experienced the same thing as you. Not all cowboys stay on their horse, we all fall off the mare worse for wear at times. I used to have some thick hair that never wavered but after a few months of sadness and not taking care of myself, it finally gave in with the rest of me. It's okay, hair is hair. Process is not linear. It can't be all bad sometimes, as we are lucky to relate about something across this plane of the internet. It's important to know that you are up and at it again, and that is a victory in itself. Since I went through the same thing, I made sure to write this with extra love.

Vergil With a Female S/O Experiencing Extreme Hair Loss

Firstly, Vergil isn't really one to take great stock into appearances. But he does take stock in your comfort.

It was very hard to see his loved one who usually brings great strength and vigor into his own life one day be unable to leave the bed.

He's glad you were able to get up again and take some care into your needs, but isn't blind to the fact that there were some lingering effects of your sadness ad difficulty.

Your hair was something you care about and now it is lesser from its previous appearance. Vergil notices your emotional reaction to this change.

Sometimes he notices how your touch your hair to feel it, as if in disbelief it is no longer as full of life it used to be.

His beloved had been talking about growing out her hair, and this felt like a setback to her endeavor.

Vergil understood setbacks very well, and he also did not take to having a setback very well.

So one day, while you were still stroking your hair and trying to style in a way that best suited your hair now, he came up behind you.

His callused hands that always firmly carried his sword gently brushed your hair behind your ears and his knuckles barely stroked the back of your neck, and he kissed your nape with his lips.

You simply leaned your head the other way, letting his touch distract you.

"I don't know if it's ever going to come back the same." You worry, and Vergil simply continues stroking your hair.

"Maybe it will, maybe it won't. But is your hair all that you are?" Vergil says aloud, absent-mindedly brushing your hair around away from your face.

"Truthfully, there is still a beautiful woman, who I remain proud of calling mine, before me. Is there not? Am I incorrect?" Vergil asks of you. You shake your head, that you are more than one trait but a woman of many facets, including one of resilience even during hard and trying times.

"I know this is hard, but some battles we leave with a few scars. There is no shame in that."

Vergil kisses where your hair parts, and you feel complete.

#vergil x reader #dmc vergil

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vbecker10 · 2 years

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Hey could you do a Loki x reader where reader is insecure about her body after giving birth and Loki is doing everything he can to reassure that he finds her beautiful?

Hey anon!! I love this idea so much! I'm sorry about the wait, I didn't mean for it to take me so long to get to this one. I've never written anything where Loki has a child before but I've been wanting to. I hope you like this! 💚💚

You Are My Queen

Pairing: Jotun Loki x plus size female reader (y/n)

Warnings: self depreciating thoughts, issues with self image... but I promise lots of fluff (let me know if I forgot anything)

Summary: You and Loki are the proud parents of a beautiful one month old baby girl (Luna, I stole the name from a friend). You couldn't be more in love with your daughter and Loki but you can't stop the negative thoughts that have been plaguing you recently. You do your best to hide your growing concerns from Loki but one morning you reluctantly open up to him about how you really see yourself.

A/N: So... I added in Jotun Loki cause I literally couldn't help myself. I also made the reader plus size and added a bit of background into why she is feeling this way... enjoy!

Dividers by: @harlequin-hangout

You groan lightly as a hand gently touches your shoulder, pulling you from your dreams. Opening your eyes slowly, a smile creeps across your face as you look up at your boyfriend. You rub your eyes as his illusion melts away, leaving his skin a rich shade of blue and his eyes a deep red. "Hi Loki," you mumble sleepily.

"Hello darling," he says with a smile then he leans down to kiss you. You reach up and touch his cheek, running your fingers over the raised markings and keeping his lips on your for a moment longer.

"Did you just get home?" you ask, sitting up on the couch as he stands up again.

He nods, "I texted you about half an hour ago to let you know we landed."

"Oh no. I'm sorry I missed your text," you tell him suddenly feeling guilty for not responding. You had forgotten you put your phone on vibrate so the text and call alerts wouldn't wake Luna. "I must have fallen asleep after I put her to bed..." you explain as you get up from the couch.

"It's alright love, I imagine our daughter kept you quite busy these last few days," he assumes and you nod in agreement. This was the first mission Loki had been on since you had given birth and even though it was only for three days, you were exhausted. He extends his hand towards you and you take it, intertwining your fingers with his. "Come to bed darling," he says in a soothing voice, "I've missed you."

"I missed you too," you reply as the two of you head towards your bedroom but suddenly your attention is drawn to your daughter's room. She begins to cry loudly and you let go of Loki's hand. You reach for the door knob and pause for a moment, covering your mouth as you yawn.

"Go back to sleep, I'll take care of our little princess," you hear Loki say from behind you.

"Are you sure? You just got home," you ask.

"Of course. My brother was pestering me for pictures of Luna as soon as we began our return flight. I pretended to be asleep so he would leave me alone and I must have actually fallen asleep at some point. I'm probably less tired than you are, dear," he tells you and you can't help but laugh. He kisses your cheek then opens the door to Luna's room. "I'll be in shortly," he says.

You go to your room and get into the bed, pulling the covers around yourself. You fight to stay awake, hoping you will have a few moments alone with Loki but you can barely keep your eyes open. You smile as you hear Loki singing softly to calm your daughter back to sleep through the baby monitor on your night stand. Yawning again, you roll onto your side and give in, closing your eyes.

You roll over and reach for Loki, opening your eyes when you don't feel him in the bed with you. You sit up, stretching a bit as you look at the clock.

When you walk out of your bedroom, you see Loki standing in the middle of the kitchen with Luna in his arms. He is swaying from side to side slowly while he hums to her, the newspaper he is reading on the counter flips to the next page with a light green glow caused by him nodding his head. The kettle on the stove begins to whistle, Loki keeps one hand on Luna's back and with a wave of his other hand, a green glow picks up the kettle and turns off the stove. You shake your head with a smile as the kettle pours water into two mugs on the counter and Loki looks up from his reading.

"Good morning, darling," he smiles. "Did you sleep well?"

"I did," you tell him as you walk over to where he is standing. He leans down to kiss you and when he pulls back you look at your daughter. "Good morning princess," you say softly, kissing her nose as she looks up at you with her bright red eyes. Her tiny blue fingers reach for you and she grabs onto one of your fingers. "She looks so much like you," you say to Loki.

He jokes, "I think that might be because we are both blue my dear." You laugh and shake your head. "She is as beautiful as her mother," he tells you and you suddenly feel the need to force yourself to smile.

You look away from Loki abruptly and walk to the fridge to get milk for the coffee. "Are you alright?" he asks and you nod but still don't look at him. You add milk to both mugs before handing Loki his. You avoid eye contact with him, instead you pick up one of your daughter's books from the counter and flip through it. You can hear the familiar voices trying to force their way back into your mind, the voices that insisted you were never good enough, smart enough, pretty enough, thin enough. You had worked hard to get past them but it took almost nothing for them to reappear again.

"Hmm?" you ask as Loki finally gets your attention.

"I said, you should relax this morning," he suggests. "Luna and I have some reading to catch up on, don't we little one?" he asks your daughter and she smiles at him.

You consciously smile again, maybe relaxing wouldn't be such a bad idea. The voices were harder to push away when you were tired. Loki walks over to you and touches your chin lightly so you are looking up at him. "What is going on in that pretty little mind of yours?" he asks, obviously able to tell something is wrong.

You shake your head, not wanting to tell him. He strokes your cheek lightly and kisses your forehead. "Go unwind, love, we can talk after," he says, taking your coffee from you. Before you can reply you hear the water running in the bathroom. You nod and say thank you quietly.

You open the door to the bathroom and look around, Loki's magic never ceasing to amaze you. Steam rises off the nearly filled tub and there are lite candles lining the window sill. You can smell the lavender and oils which have been added to the water, causing a thick layer of bubbles to appear on the surface. A glass vase with an assortment of green flowers sits on the edge of the vanity.

You take off your pajamas quickly, careful not to catch your reflection in the mirror as you undress. You slip into the tub and sink under the bubbles as you close your eyes. Breathing deeply, you feel your body slowly relax in the warm water. You can hear Loki reading to Luna faintly, his voice changing slightly to match the various characters in whichever book he had chosen.

Gradually, your mind begins to wander. You had never thought much about your weight while in high school but when you first started college you realized you were always the heaviest girl in your classes. You tried all four years to control your weight but between your hectic class schedule and working full time there was little room to do things for yourself. Your weight never deterred you from making friends easily but it had held you back from ever being in a serious relationship. You dated occasionally but you found you had a hard time believing anyone was ever interested in you.

After you graduated, you got a job at SHIELD and excitedly moved to New York City. You were nervous about moving so far from home but you quickly became close with Wanda and Natasha, spending almost all of your free time together. The two of them had helped you arrange a schedule where they would go to the gym with you three or four times a week to keep you on track. About a month after you arrived, Loki and Thor joined the Avengers and you soon developed a crush on the God of Mischief. Your two best friends noticed of course and you did little to deny it, although you were adamant that he only liked you as a friend.

Eleven months later, you were still going to the gym several times a week, eating healthier and hopelessly in love with Loki who you had grown close to. Natasha and Wanda watched you get off the scale in the gym with a broad smile on your face. "Not much longer now," Natasha said, referring to your goal weight. You nod dramatically, you couldn't believe you were actually going to make it this time. "So, I think we should make this a little more interesting," she says and you look at her curiously. "Once you reach your goal, you have to ask Loki out on a date," she says and you look at her wide-eyed. You have no idea what possessed you to agree but almost a month later, you reached your goal and found yourself knocking on his apartment door to see if he wanted to go to the movies. Next month will be your three year anniversary, you think with a smile but it fades slowly.

You will need to buy a new dress if he wants to take you out to dinner like he usually does. Would you even be able to find a dress that would fit you now, you wonder. You open your eyes slowly and look at the clothing you had discarded by the door. None of your clothes from before the pregnancy fit anymore, it was a month since you had given birth and you hadn't lost a single pound.

In the beginning, you tried to continue going to the gym, desperate to keep the body you had worked so hard for but you were often too tired to stay long or your feet and back would begin to hurt. Your friends suggested you relax and pick up working out after the baby came and you reluctantly agreed. Your food choices also began to slip as soon as the craving started. Things you hadn't eaten in years were suddenly all you could think about and Loki would get you anything you asked for, day or night no matter how odd or hard to find. In the nine months you were pregnant, you had put on almost half of what you had originally lost and you felt as if you were a failure. Your biggest fear was that Loki would no longer find you attractive unless you lost the weight quickly.

A soft knock on the door causes you to jump in surprise. "Y/N," Loki says from the other side of the door. "Can we talk for a moment?"

A wave of worry spreads over you, whether it is rational or not and you respond, "Just let me get dressed." You hadn't let Loki see you without clothes on since you were almost seven months pregnant. You step out of the tub and grab a towel to dry yourself, sighing when you try to wrap the towel around your body and it barely closes. Holding it in place, you walk over to the vanity and suddenly realize you hadn't brought clean clothes to change into. All you had was the ill-fitting towel and the clothing you had worn the night before.

Loki knocks again, "Can I come in?"

"No," you respond quickly and you hear him take a step back from the door.

"Darling, are you alright?" he asks, the concern heavy in his voice.

"I'm fine, I just..." your words trail off as you see yourself in the full length mirror. You hold the towel as tightly as you can, wiping away a tear that streaks down your cheek. "Loki?" you ask quietly.

"Yes love?" he responds.

"I'm sorry I'm not..." you pause, searching for the right words. "I'm sorry I don't look the way I did before I was pregnant. I know how much you loved my body then and now it's..." You gesture to yourself in the mirror as more tears begin to fall.

"Y/N, what are you talking about? You know I think you are beautiful," he says and you hear him turn the door knob.

"Stop, please," you say and the door remains closed.

There is silence from the hall for a moment then Loki says, "Darling, I wish you could see yourself the way I see you." You wipe your eyes again using the back of your hand. "Are you standing in front of the mirror?" he asks and you nod then say yes. "What do you see?"

You take a deep breath, to try and calm your breathing as you look at yourself. "I see stretch marks everywhere," you say unable to hide your disappointment. "My stomach is flabby and my hips have gotten wider, none of my old pants or shirts fit anymore. Even your clothes, I tried to wear one of your shirts the other day and it wasn't loose like it used to be, it barely fit. My thighs are thicker and my arms jiggle, I see the spider veins on my legs and even my fingers feel swollen," you list all of the things you hate about your appearance and wait terrified for Loki to agree with you.

"Do you know what I see?" he asks and you stifle a sob. "I see the love of my life and the mother of my child. I see the woman who means more to me than anything in the nine realms," he says through the door. "I see someone who is full of strength and determination, who is caring and selfless, quick witted and exquisite. Y/N, my queen, you are a goddess."

You wrap your arms around yourself as you listen to Loki, etching his words into your mind in the hopes that they will keep your thoughts at bay.

"I know you don't feel proud of your body in this moment darling, but your body has given me the greatest gift I have or will ever receive," he tells you. You close your eyes and think back to the day you told Loki you were pregnant. That was the happiest you had ever seen him but it paled in comparison to the day you both met your daughter.

He then asks, "Do you love me less when I am in my Jotun form then you do when I am in my Asgardian form?"

"What? No, of course not," you tell him honestly. "I love you the same no matter which form you take."

"Then how could my love for you vary based on something as simple as your weight?" he asks and you struggle to find an answer. "Please, come out," he says and you wipe your eyes again.

You sniffle and bite your lip, "I don't have any clothes." A small green flash appears on the vanity and you slip on the jeans and t-shirt Loki conjured for you.

You open the door and find yourself frozen as you look down at Loki, kneeling in front of you. He smiles as he reaches to take one of your hands in his, your other hand quickly covering your mouth. "I wanted to do this next month for our anniversary but..." he pauses, opening his free hand to reveal a small velvet green ring box.

"Loki?" you ask, feeling your heart begin to race.

"I have loved you since the moment you awkwardly asked me to see a movie with you," he says and you giggle. "Y/N, you mean more to me then I could ever put into words, you are the one I've been waiting for my whole life. You are my queen, my love, my everything and I want to know if you will do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

"Yes!" you answer excitedly before Loki can even open the ring box. He stands up, wrapping his arms around you as he pulls you to him. He presses his lips to yours but the sudden sound of your daughter waking up hungry causes you to pull away.

"One moment, my little princess," Loki says with a laugh as he opens the box and slips the ring onto your finger.

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