#and then waking up in the aftermath and being made to remember what i did...

[random-fandom1984]

Can I have some g1 soundwave x reader please😅😅😅😅😅

Being the only femme Cybertronian on the Ark can be... something. Especially when some of them try hitting on you without getting to know you; quite annoying really, but you keep it pushed down; but some people can tell because of your alt-mode.

You stayed in the Ark because of your job as a medic. Your alt-mode is a heartbeat monitor, which also corresponds with your sparkbeats, which is how some people, very few, can tell what you're feeling.

You made your own little base of operations under an abandoned amusement park. You'd bring in people who were injured and left behind in the ruckus of the battlefield between the two factions. Human or Decepticon.

Whenever it's a human, you'd ask them to promise to not tell your Autobot friends about your place of escape, and they do. But with Decepticons, you make sure that they are knocked out, and you just give them a few amounts of anesthesia because they would break in, destroy the place, kidnap you and hold you for ransom against your friends.

One day, when looking through one of the many aftermaths of a battle, you found a minicon in the rubble, Soundwave's minicon: Frenzy. When you took him back to your base, you realized you've forgotten to stock up on more anesthesia, so now you have to worry with the fact that he might wake up soon as you did the procedure of fix-and-repair.

As you were putting your tools away, he woke up with a fright, and you quickly explained the situation to him, which slightly calmed him down. Key word: Slightly. He was suspicious of you but is slowly diminished as you continued to work on the minor injuries that just need a new paint job and be buffed. The last bit disappeared in an instant when you gave him an Energon Goodie.

When he came by again, to your surprise that he remembered the way here, you gave a tour of the place above, he somehow managed to get the place up and running again; thank Primus that your location was miles away from the nearest civilization.

As time went by, Rumble found out, then Ravage, then Laserbeak. When they come to visit, it would be like as if there was no war, they're having a good time in the amusement park.

Sooner or later, Soundwave got suspicious. Where were his kids minicons going late at night?

Being the best spy he is, he followed them, and was surprised that they were hanging out with an Autobot, weren't fighting like there was a war, stopping a fight between Rumble and Frenzy as calm as possible- and somehow easily get them to make up?! He couldn't do that without them continuing to squabble with each other.

He used his telepathy powers to look into your thoughts to see if you secretly had ill intentions with his sons minicons, but there wasn't any!

When his minicons return back to base, it's an instant interrogation the moment they step foot back in the habsuite: How long has this been going on? How did this happen in the first place? What do she always do with them? The only questions that were about you were answered back with positivity.

Curious, he decided to look more into your file when the Decepticons fight the Autobots near the Ark. When he does, all he finds is all good things.

When it was the next time they decided to visit, he wanted to meet her in person. And so he did, and by Primus were you nervous. You were worried he might blow your helm up. You, Soundwave, and his minicons walked through the park, watching the minicons play games, ride the rides; he began to trust you.

The more you all hang out in private, at your secret location, the more you begin to bond closer together, mainly you and Soundwave; the minicons noticed it as clear as day.

So, being mischievous little ones they are, Rumble and Frenzy decided to stage a lil' something. In private, the minicons would call Soundwave Sire, or dad in human terms. So, when the next time you and they met up, they would unexpectedly drop Carrier, mom, at random times in the night. When they first did it, they'd put on an act like as if they didn't mean to say it and it just slip. You fell for their act, so did Soundwave because it was unexpected.

They see you? An Autobot medic? As a parental figure? I mean, sure, you heal up their injuries, you give them Energon sweets if they be good and behave, calmly deal with their fights, gives them sweet head pats, have the most caring optics he's seen, the most beautiful smile- Oh, scrap! He's in love.

He would lie awake at night, questioning why he found you attractive. For starters, your gently touch that he felt when you repaired him, your smiles seem to shine brighter than any star, and sound from your vocalizer was like a siren's call and he was the sailor that was lured by its enchanting melody, your optics the prettiest shade of blue that rivals with this hunk of rock's sky, have the spirit of a Carrier with his kids- Primus, he was hooked, lined and had sunk deep.

After he came to terms with his newfound emotions, he started noticing something about you. Every single time he was close to you, he'd see the screen of your alt-mode, on your chassis, start getting taller. One time, he danced with you as music played in the park, and he saw that the big spikes became frequent, and a subtle blush would be on your cheek plates that you try to hide with your servo and turning your helm to the side. He found this adorable, so much that he became addicted to having that cute blush on your face.

When back on the Ark, you would get pings from an unknown comm-link number, only to realize it's Soundwave, and he's sending you something. When you are finally alone in your habsuite, you would take a look to see that they were poems; they were so sweet, you reread them, laying on your berth, kicking your feet as you excitedly giggle from how nice, sweet, and adorable they are that they might as well be invitations for Cupid to continue to shoot arrows into your spark, making you fall harder for the Con.

When they spent the night in your secret base, you all had fun doing any activity that comes to mind: pillow/blanket forts, teaching the little ones the steps on how you make your glorious Energon Goodies, etc. The last activity was a horror movie marathon. Every time a jump scare would pop up on the screen, you would hug the closest bot, and it just so happened to be Soundwave. During the horror movie marathon, you, Soundwave, and his kids ended up in a cuddle pile, scared, all but Soundwave, Ravage, and Laserbeak.

They decided to spend the night here before returning to the Decepticon base at the break of dawn. You decided to put the little ones to sleep. He decided to start cleaning up the mess that was made, and when he finished, he came back to you telling the ending of an old Cybertron bedtime story.

To him, it looked so nice and peaceful, and you looked so motherly that he just wanted to confess right there, right now. What sealed the deal was you placing a goodnight kiss on the top of their helms, tucking them to sleep before leaving the room they were occupying, only to be dragged off to somewhere by Soundwave, into the place you slept in from time-to-time.

You wondered what was happening, until Soundwave got on one knee plate, servos holding your own, visor looking up into your optics, glistening as he let out a very poetic, charming, delightful, exquisite of him telling you about his feelings, everything about you that made his spark soar: your voice, your optics, your touch, everything.

He carefully watched the screen on you chassis to see if there was any indication of making you uncomfortable or not. And by the end of his heartfelt confession, he watched the heart monitor didn't make any giant spikes. Oh, no. It made a heart at the center of the monitor as blush covers your entire faceplate.

Part 2 coming soon!

[transmascfucktoy]

hmmm. im probably into hypnosis

[hanafubukki]

Can be seen as a part 2 to this fic

You were avoiding Lilia.

Ever since the Malleus overblot, you had tried your best to stay away from Lilia.

It helped that everyone was busy dealing with the aftermath. In addition, the four from diasomnia that caused all this needed time to heal and deal with their relationships.

It didn't mean that you didn't see them on campus, but you had a group of first years who would negate anyone that made you uncomfortable.

And that turned out to be Lilia in this case, though this was all thoughts they assumed and not confirmed by you.

But it did let you run away.

Surprisingly, even Sebek helped. He had mentioned he did not agree with your methods in the dream world, but you had helped him and those he cared about. He said that he would help until you were comfortable to talk with them, with him.

You don't know if you would ever be ready to talk to Lilia.

To confess your thoughts and your feelings. To be vulnerable in such a way.

But you knew you would have to be.

It is during these moments when I’m glad I don’t have magic and I can’t overblot.

You knew eventually you would have to talk to him.

Maybe that’s why you had worn your comfiest clothes, and taken a blanket with you to watch the stars outside today of all days.

A feeling called you outside.

“Couldn’t sleep, YN?”

“Hmm…you could say that. How’s the boys?”

“They are recovering, many feelings are being expressed.”

“Family communicating? Working? Wow, who would have thought?”

Lilia laughed as he settled next to you.

“Should you be speaking?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“The cliff?”

“Maybe I was feeling jump-OW!”

You rubbed your cheek as Lilia smiles at you, the hint of danger in his eyes had you shutting up real quick.

“I just wanted to wake you…without unneeded heartbreak.”

“Yet you believed your actions wouldn’t cause any?”

You couldn’t meet his eyes.

You remembered how Grim scrambled to you, crying and calling your name.

You remember shocked faces, guilt, and tears.

You remembered Malleus and how he looked somehow even paler than when he put you all to sleep. How magic circled around him uncertainly.

You knew you hurt them, but at least they were awake you reasoned to yourself.

At least, they were able to stop Malleus.

You couldn’t bring yourself to apologize.

Finally, finally, you were able to do something.

Finally, you were able to help.

You weren’t stuck on the sides, watching helplessly.

You heard a hum from next to you.

“Taking such heartbreaking actions. And for what? A foolish crush?”

That had your attention. It had you turning, heated.

“Its more than a crus-”

You abruptly stopped yourself.

The look in Lilia’s eyes spoke of the hunter catching his prey.

He brought up his hand, tilting your chin up towards him. The look in his eyes has you slightly shaking.

Anticipation? Excitement? You couldn’t tell.

“My dearest, faes love intensely. I won’t ever let you go. If you wish to be free, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

“I love you. Who said I wanted to be free?” You finally spoke the words you were afraid to say before.

The glowing magenta eyes were the last you saw until you were enveloped in warmth.

Bonus:

“Let me go!”

You tried to leave Lilia’s room to attend class but he was literally holding you down with all his strength.

While his bed was comfy and you wouldn’t mind sleeping more, you had class!

“I can’t miss class! We have potions today! Grim might burn the school down!”

“I told you I wouldn’t let you go khee hee hee.”

Silver, Sebek, and Malleus watched as you struggled against a clingy Lilia.

“Why not join their class, Lilia? Would that not be the obvious choice?”

“Tsunotaro, no!”

“Human, you should know better than to take deals made with fae lightly!”

Silver smiled, his family was complete and whole again.

They were healing.

He felt the love for those around him increase.

And it seems, his family had a new addition as well.

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Home for the First Time

It was early when there was a knock at the door of Wayne Manor, Bruce was still in his nightgown because even though it was nearly noon he’d been out late. He stayed back while Alfred opened the door, curious to see who it was and hoping he hadn’t forgotten he was supposed to meet with press or something today. But no, it was two children, nearly identical besides the fact one had blue eyes and the other green.

“Hello,” The blue eyed one greeted with a bright, charming smile, he had one arm out slightly, subtly shielding the green eyed boy who was hanging back a little, a serious look on his face and a stubborn set to his jaw. “My name is Danyal Al Ghul and this is my brother Damien. Perhaps Bruce remembers an ill advised dalliance with our mother Talia roughly 11 years ago? We are the result, and she says it’s time we meet our father and learn what we can from him.”

“Of course we’ll submit to a DNA test to prove our lineage,” The green eyes one, Damien, put in. Danial didn’t look at the boy as he nodded along.

Behind Alfred Bruce choked on his coffee and started to cough. Alfred was unflappable as always and simply nodded once. “I see, why don’t you two come through into the sitting room? The paternity test shouldn’t take long using our equipment, we’ll just need a bit of your hair,” Alfred said as he stood back and usured the kids in. Bruce deciding now would be a good time to disappear and compose himself before he had to meet these unexpected children.

---------------

Danyal was nervous and excited as they sat in the drawing room, cradling mugs of tea neither of them had drunk. Damien was probably suspicious of an attempted poisoning, but Danyal was just nervous! Not that he showed it, his hands didn’t shake and an impassive little smile stayed on his face as he observed every inch of the room. That was the difference between him and Dami really, Damien had been raised the heir to the Demon Head, Danny to the Bat and Wayne industries. They had gone through the same physical training of course but they had different behaviours ingrained in them.

Damien had been taught to repress all emotion and not show it at all where as Danny had been taught how to mimic them. Hide his true emotion and show the appropriate ones. A ‘press smile’ as they say, to charm and manipulate and give just the right half answers that truly gave nothing away. He excelled in science and technology which would be perfect for running Wayne Enterprises, so it mattered less that his reading skills flagged behind Dami’s a bit, or that he had been the weaker combatant.

Had been, until he had been struck by lightening and then revived by Lazarus. It had been a disappointment, but thankfully not something he could have been faulted for, an act of god to punish their grandfather for his avoidance of death and because even the gods feared who they would become. He remembered the strike, the unimaginable pain of it, and the aftermath as he lay on the ground, his heart stuttering and thumping to hard, then not, then fluttering, then not, then nothing as he had passed out.

He did not remember being dropped in the pit, but he did remember waking up within it. It burned through his veins, seeping in to the hand that had been struck holding his weapon, racing up along the fractals of energy, collecting the currents that still had him twitching uncontrollably and curling together into a hard ball in his chest. A wash of cold spread over him from his new centre, soothing the burn of the acrid, acidic pit. It made drifting there… comfortable.

He knew it shouldn’t have been, he had seen multiple people break the surface, gasping and screaming and clawing their way to shore, but it wasn’t for him. Then again Ra’s bathed in the pool, so maybe this was alright? It made him wonder about the people who never surfaced again, did they choose to stay because this was how it felt to them too? Drifting listlessly in comfortable… What? What was this feeling. Danny had turned and dove deeper into the pit, seeking answers as he always did, even when it wasn’t wise.

He didn’t know how long he swam before he could see the edges, the pool narrowing closer and closer till he could barely make it through, and then he found an exit. It was small, a porthole into a void of stars and doors. It was unlike anything he’d seen and he realised immediately it was calling to him, that was why he had dove. It wanted him to enter, it called it was where he belonged, it terrified him. When something far to large drifted by his little vantage point he fled back towards the surface, the life he knew, and the broken family he still loved.

He was a bit surprised to find that Damien and mother were still there but grandfather had already left. That was fair really, Danny didn’t know how long he had been down there, but his brother and mother are still there. It seemed Damien was being allowed a rare moment of weakness, on his knees by the edge of the pond, staring blankly into the water with their mother crouching next to him, rubbing his back though Damien’s eyes were still dry. They were… grieving him.

He burst through the surface of the glowing pool, gasping for air he scrambled up onto the bank, coughing up the disgusting liquid clogging his lungs. His ears were ringing and his sight narrowing to a green blur, completely unaware of what was going on around him until two hands, one the size of his own, and one larger land on his body. The smaller set held back his hair while larger rubbed his back, slowly sound returned and he heard his mother’s soft cooing and Damien’s panicked breath.

He gasped for breath and looked up at the two of them, the green retreating from his vision as he blinked rapidly. “Damien? Mother?” He had gasped seeing the relief overtake both of their faces that Lazarus hadn’t stolen his mind.

It hadn’t, in fact he was just as sharp as ever and had found that since then no one could detect him when he wanted to remain unseen, no door could stop him or keep him out. He was what any assassin dreamed to be, but it had also come with new awareness since he had been overhearing things no one would usually let him hear. He had heard the conversations Grandfather had with mother going back and forth about which of them should go to their father, since it was always meant to be Danyal but now with his new abilities he was clearly chosen by Lazarus so maybe he should be the true heir.

Danny known Grandfather was manipulative for as long as he could remember, not like Damien, who still had faith in the league and their grandfather. Damien was smart, and talented, he was suspicious enough for both of their physical safety, but he had a much harder time realizing when they were being manipulated, or when they were being used. That was alright, Danny could make up for this weakness as Damien had done for his unwillingness to kill. It had taken him a while of carefully planted seeds in both Grandfather’s ear and Mother’s to bring them around to the idea of both of them going to father.

Danyal didn’t know if father would be any better, but he would probably be easier to escape from then the league and maybe with some distance he would gain the courage to point out to Damien how it was wrong.

That was how life found them both sitting on their fathers couch, Danny’s tea long since having grown cold. He surfaced from his thoughts, seeing his eyes shimmering unnatural green in the reflection within the cup, as it usually did when he thought about his death.

He blinked it away in time to look up and see Bruce entering the room, he put his smile back on and stood, Damien following suit and looking sullen. They had agreed Danny would take the lead, but Damien still didn’t like it. “You must be Bruce, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Danyal said offering his hand to shake. Bruce blinked looking a little startled and shook his hand, Danny did his bast to give a good, firm handshake, hopefully his hands were too cold. “Mother always speaks highly of you, and even Grandfather admits there’s much we can learn from you,” He said, stepping back to let Damien shake Bruce’s hand as well.

“And anyone who can impress grandfather must be half a god,” Danny joked causing Damien to hiss and elbow his side as he usually did when he though Danny was speaking out of turn. Danny made a little oof sound and then gave Bruce a conspiratorial look, pleased to see he had made the stoic man crack a smile.

“It’s good to meet both of you as well, I’m sorry I didn’t know about either of you until today. The paternity test confirmed that you are my sons, Alfred is already setting up rooms for you next to each other in the family wing. In the mean time how would you feel about meeting a couple of your siblings? I believe Tim, Cass, and Stephanie are home at the moment? You’ve had a long trip, if you’d rather wait till tomorrow then I understand.”

“We’d love to meet them,” Danyal said, a little louder then usual to cover his brothers scoff. Damien scowled at Danyal who scowled back just as fiercely and tried to step on Damien’s foot, he knew the other boy would move out of the way before he could but it would make his point not to be disrespectful! It was clearer then clear that their father didn’t care much for blood given how much he loved all his adoptive children no matter what Grandfather thought. If Bruce wanted a biological heir he could have easily have gotten one, their blood might give them a slight advantage but they would have to prove their merits. But of course Damien believed everything Grandfather said still.

Damien dodged and then kicked back, Danyal rolling his eyes and dodging as well. Before a full fight could break out they both heard Bruce chuckle at them, Danyal gave the man a sheepish smile and while Damien blushed and looked down at the floor sulkily. “Alright, well then follow me. I’ll call Dick as well, I’m sure that when he finds out he has two new brothers to meet he’ll come running, I’m sure he’ll be here for dinner as well.”

“We’ve heard a lot about him too,” Danyal said with an impassive smile, they had to know about those who might be their competition after all. Danyal knew a bit more then Damien but they both knew what they needed to, like strengths and weaknesses. Danyal wondered if he was going to have to come to their adopted siblings defences, he fully expected Damien would try to assassinate them, whether or not it was actually wise to do so.

“Alright, then lets go see Tim first, he’s playing video games in his room. Steph and Cass are in the studio together,” Bruce said as he ushered Danny and Damien out of the sitting room and up a set of back stairs into the family wing of the manner. Danny and Damien following, having a silent argument of signs and dodgable blows about how exactly they should be handling this. What finally ended the argument was Danny flashing fang, his eyes glowing green and baring his teeth at Damien. Both to remind Damien of his true strength and to show how important this was to him, which made Damien relent for now he wasn’t sure.

Either way they had sorted it out by the time Bruce opened the door. “Tim, how do you feel about two new brothers?” Bruce said almost sheepishly and Tim groaned, pausing his game and spinning around in his chair.

“Damn Bruce where did you find these two?” He asked giving his adopted father a tired glare.

“On his doorstep,” Danny said promptly.

“We’re his biological sons,” Damien said at almost the same time, then glared at Danny who shrugged, both were true.

“Damn really?” Tim asked as he finally got up, examining both of them.

“We already did the paternity test,” Damien said with what Danny would call an unwarranted amount of pride.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Danyal. You can call me Danny if you want,” Danny said, stepping forward and offering Tim a handshake and his best smile. Tim blinked and shook his hand. “I’ve never played a video game, they didn’t allow such frivolities in the compound. They look like fun though, perhaps you could teach me?”

“Uh sure, sounds fun. What about you? You want to learn other little bro?” Tim asked looking to Damien.

“Why would I want to learn a skill with no practical use,” Damien scoffed. “My name is Damien, and I do not approve of nicknames,” He said, giving Danny a haughty look as he shook Tim’s hand. Danny just rolled his eyes.

“Whatever you say little D,” Tim scoffed. Damien gave an indignant squawk and before he could go for a weapon Danny grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and yanked him back.

“Okay that’s enough of that,” Bruce said, grabbing a knife Danny had missed Damien drawing and twisting it out of Damien’s grip as Danny got his brother in a headlock.

“Sorry about him, the League of Shadows doesn’t care much for social graces, I barely escaped being just as feral as him,” Danny joked before letting out an oof as Damien elbowed him in the side and escaped his hold.

“Eh it’s not the first time a brother has tried to kill me. I can look after myself,” Tim said, which was clearly a warning to Damien judging by the look. Danny knew that Tim could, but also knew he was still underestimating them, and he hoped that wouldn’t bite him before he figured it out. “Let me know if you change your mind, I’m sure you two have a lot of catching up to do with tech and media, I’ll be happy to be your guide.”

“Tt,” Damien scoffed and stomped out of the room.

“Well I’m looking forward to learning about all of that, I think it’ll be fun! Ignore him, he’ll come around. Just, uhh, watch him, That won’t be the last time he tries to stab you. If anything it’s a bonding activity for him,” Danny joked as lightly as he could before hurrying after his twin, Bruce on his heels.

Part 2: here

[sorcerous-caress]

Can you do an aftercare breakdown of how all the dommy mommies might treat Reader post-fuck/kink session? This is Mintharaheart anon, I’m baptizing myself.

After care | bg3 women

[ Fluff, smut, nb!reader, blood in Orin's part ]

[Karlach, Minthara, Shadowheart, Laezel, Orin ]

Karlach

You're out of breath, as if you've ran a long tiring marathon. The ache in your bones pleaded for you to lay down on something soft, something warm, something-

"I've got you, soldier, just relax."

Karlach is very warm to the touch, a comforting embrace that washes away all the aftermath of the adrenaline pumping in your veins. Her large fingers slowly caress your body, making you melt against her touch and relax all of your muscles.

It's only when she speaks again, do you realise you were falling asleep. "Awh man, i really wore you out, huh?" Your eyes open up, you don't remember closing them, attempting to meet her flaming eyes but it's being proven a struggle as of now.

"Shh it's alright" she cuddles more against you, her warmth becoming your whole world. And what a comfort inviting world it was. "I've got you" she repeats, "sweet dreams."

Minthara

Something you've noticed about her, is that her breathing always faded in with the background. No matter how many times you laid beside her with your eyes closed, it was hard to pick up on where the night started and where the Minthara ended.

She blended in too perfectly. If it wasn't for her head laying on your chest, then you might have suspected she wasn't breathing at all.

But you could feel it, her heartbeat, the one thing she couldn't silence away.

The way you held her, as if she could slip away from you, as if the wind might carry her off. You held her as if you could put her whole together again with your embrace alone in case she ever breaks.

Minthara rarely spoke during those times, the quiet, tender moments where she let herself be vulnerable. Bared weakness and tore her wall down for just a couple minutes before the harsh world pulled her back in the front lines of duty.

Shadowheart

Laying together on the soft covers, the two of you have been gazing into each other's eyes for a while. Memorising each other's faces and embedding the other's eye colour into your own souls.

Who knew green could look so beautiful, so mesmerising.

She'd normally tease you for this, call you a love struck puppy. But she can't manage to form any clever combacks now, not when your face was so close to her, your lips glistening and neck covered in all the marks she's left on you.

She swallows down, your eyes follow the movement of her throat.

"We should get cleaned up." she makes no point to move, "maybe a bath."

You nod.

Neither of you gets up just yet. She doesn't call you out on it, and you don't mention how it was her own idea.

Just a little bit more, a little time more for the both of you before you have to wake up from this dream.

Laezel

She doesn't see the point in cuddles, she made it clear to you long ago.

You wonder how would the old Laezel feel if she saw the current Laezel now, clinging to you with her head buried where your shoulder meets your neck.

In a way, you've also changed. You've gotten better at handling it, her intense raw emotional in bed. The ache in your body is much easier to manage now, even feels a little refreshing.

Both of you made space for the other, both of you adapted to be able to hold each other even closer now.

Her hair is very soft, brownish strands sliding through your fingers as you play with it. She makes no effort to stop you.

Orin

The smell of rubbing alcohol has stopped being so harsh to your nose long ago, it's more of the norm now. Although that might have been the light-headedness caused by the bloodloss doings.

Disinfect, dry, and then bandage the cuts. It was the usual routine.

Orin did most of the work. You could relay on her expertise to take care of your wounds, it even gave her a chance to admire her own work, she said.

It actually kinda grew on you, seeing her all giddy and giggling away at the sight of red in your veins. It was almost endearing in her own twisted way.

Her long hair swished behind her as she moved around you in excitement steps, tending to every wound that she was personally the cause of.

Being extra careful in getting in bed with you after, making sure not to press against any sore spots, for now, at least.

She always sang your praises afterwards, told you how simply ravishing you looked, truly a masterpiece of art.

You'd always drift off into slumber on her lap before she finished her speech, she never minded.

[lawchwan]

Don't Cum, Only I Will (zoro)

summary: with zoro being out of town, you miss him bad, so you gave him a phone call.

reader: AFAB genre: smut disclaimer: phone sex, masturbation, talks of what zoro would do to the reader when he gets back (restraints, somno, breeding, etc) teasing, edging, slight hand fetish

crossposted on ao3

You wake up at an unknown time, and all clues lead to midnight; dark exteriors with the moon gleaming into your room, the only hint of liveliness is the minimarket located ahead of your apartment building where the signage is bright with yellow and red tinting the streets.

You glanced at the time by your nightstand and saw that it was 1 am, already expelling away your statement of haze you get when you first wake up. You didn’t remember when you slept, all you remembered you were watching a show, and all of a sudden everything went dark. You extended your arm out, looking out for your boyfriend, only to feel vacancy on his side.

You turned to your side only to see that your brain wasn’t playing any games, he wasn’t here, and you remembered that he’d be gone to a kendo tournament for a few days that he had been training for. You saw the effort he placed himself in, seeing the way he effortlessly swung the bamboo stick and how sharp and fast his attention span was when it came to his fighting skills.

While you found his athleticism and sportsmanship commendable and highly respected, you didn’t care about all of that but the aftermath. You could call yourself morbid but the way Zoro would remove his mask to catch his breath as he throws his head back truly does things to your brain it shouldn’t be. He was exhausted and exerted so much energy onto the sport, even perhaps slightly injured himself, so why did that turn you on?!

It didn’t help that Zoro had caught on to your gawking expression post-training, and he would smirk at you as you eye him with a flustered expression, as he pushed his hair back, removed parts of his gear, and loosened the top of his kimono. Oh, he knew what he was doing.

“what’s up, (y/n)? why you so flustered, hm?” Zoro teased before he began drinking his water. You only bit your lips and clenched your fist with his comment, he was going to be the death of you.

And the memory after that encounter has resided in your mind at this moment; when he pulled you into the shower with his mouth attached to yours, with such vigor and fire adjacent to his training. His large hands held onto your thighs as they wrap around his hips, where his cock nestled inside of you perfectly as he thrust onto you, creating impactful skin-to-skin sounds, with your moans and his groans beautifully mixing as a dub.

“oh, gosh, gorgeous—fuck! your pussy is—shit~ perfect…mmm!”

he groaned out as his grip on your soft plushy skin become harsher, resulting in you yelping and whining out about how his cock stretched you out so well.

That memory caused goosebumps and made your desire for him increase exponentially. You feel your body slowly heating up with your stomach causing heat motions as your adrenaline increases throughout your body. Furthermore, you feel your underwear getting soaked as the sinful thoughts of him become more vivid.

As you began stripping down your underwear, you heard vibrations coming from the nightstand next to you. You eyed the caller and saw “hubby” with a picture of him looking to the side, giving smiling.

Perfect timing.

You answered the phone and you laid back, still half bare on your lower half with your legs spread, one hand on the phone and the other stroking your leg.

“Hello?” You answered

"Hey, babe, how's it going?" You hear Zoro's deep voice echoing out of your phone and that results in you biting your lips. This man does the bare minimum and he drives you nuts.

"I-I am fine, Zoro, how was the tournament going?" You tried your best to sound as put together as you should, but your stammer at the beginning might've ruined it for you.

"umm... It's doing well, I got up to the next round, and I'm almost reaching the finals..."  Zoro spoke, as he sensed your breaths being hitched but he didn't think too much of it, at first. He's not super far, only an hour's difference, so it's nighttime where he is. He sounded like he was lying down, and almost getting ready for bed, and your brain imagined the way he lay spread naked, as he usually does when he goes to sleep, which makes your hands lower south.

You allowed him to speak while you feigned concentrating on him when in reality your fingers were busy gathering your wetness and spreading it around. You were merely getting off to his voice, and as bad as it was, you couldn't help it, you wanted him, really bad. You tried your best to keep your moans to yourself and not make any suspicious sounds, whether it was coming from your lips or your pussy, but you still hope to God he has not noticed your disgusting action.

"(y/n)..."

"y-yes, Zoro?"

"Are you touching yourself?"

Shit.

You weren't as discreet as you hoped to be, and you sort of wanted to beat yourself for it but how can you? When you have a hot boyfriend like Zoro, and he's not around to fuck you brainless, you can't keep your hands to yourself. And although he caught you, you still proceeded to play with yourself, your middle finger attempts to sneak a finger inside you.

"mmm~ no?" You say, unconvincingly as you gasp and hiss as you insert your finger inside of you. Zoro isn't sure if you're lying on purpose or not, either way, he just chuckled darkly at the thought of you simply getting off to his voice.

"So... you miss me that bad, huh?" he spoke through the phone, you could almost hear the teasing smirk he had plastered on his face, which gave you the green sign to give up the act of seeming attentive. With that, you put him on speaker and placed your phone near you as you began inserting your finger in and out of you while your other hand with your breasts which you rode your shirt over you. You let out a hissing and dragged out a moan, feeling the bubbling pleasure coursing through your body.

“Yes, Zoro. Ah!~ Fuck!~ I miss you so bad… I need you~” you whimpered out as you began to tease your other finger in while you pinched the nipple that you were grabbing.

“Fuck…” Zoro whispers.

He hears your moans and the wet sounds that come out of you, which causes his cock to harden and twitch. He looks down at the imprint through his boxers and his large hand begins to palm and tease through it, making him grunt lightly as his thumbs his covered tip. He bites his lips as he lowers his boxers down while he listens to your moans and whimpers and sees his glistening tip slapping him in his bare abdomen. The effect you had on him was potent and nothing nor anyone could have put him in this state, and he learned how to discipline and resist himself through his training. You were like a siren; you drove a man like him crazy and left him on his knees only to get him to have you engraved in his brain. Especially at a time like this, where he is in the final round, he is screwed, but he doesn’t care; all he wanted was you.

He started to bob his hand up and down as he hissed at the sensation of his cold touching his sensitive cock. It was a pleasant sensation, but it could never be comparable to your pussy being wrapped around him. He heard your fingers going on vigor speed, making you almost scream out his name and telling you how close you are.

“Stop… moving…” he spoke, but he wasn’t loud enough as you were going faster to reach that high point. When his command went on deaf ears, he growled, loudly,

“I said fucking stop moving your fingers!”

Even though he was on your phone, the way he yelled made it seem like he was right next to you, and you stopped your fingers almost immediately. You huffed as you felt yourself falling from your peak, but you were eager and separate for any sort of motion and command Zoro gave.

“You better not move those pretty fingers unless I say so… got that?” He spoke, and his speaking voice began to rasp as he groaned at the feeling of his hand stroking and pinching his tip in the process.  

“Y-yes, sir…” You spoke, your fingers still inside, “Can I keep my fingers in?”

“Take them out.”

“Zoro! Ple—”

“I said, Take. Them. Out!” he emphasized each other words with his found motions following along with harsh strokes. You huffed and pouted as you removed your fingers and placed them on your pelvis. You heard him moaning with strings of cussing, making you whine at the lack of stimulation from your end.

“Oh, god, what I would do to you when I get back… fuck!” He spoke gravelly, “Maybe I’ll tie you up while I fuck you, restraining you and making it impossible for you to make any movements…” He moans before he proceeds

“mm~ or maybe I’ll book a flight in the middle of the night, where you’re sleeping and I just spread you open and start eating you out like I haven’t eaten in days… or I fuck you deep until I come inside and fill you to the brim, making you pregnant for me… how does that sound like?”

Zoro’s words were driving you insane and you wanted to curse him for not letting you touch yourself. You felt yourself dripping onto the bedsheets and the cold air hitting your wet cunt is not helping the situation. Your hips bucked and you rubbed your ass into the sheets, striving for any sort of stimulation, but you knew better than to disobey him.

Meanwhile, Zoro’s stroking was beginning to pick up its pace, his words were becoming more incoherent and were just letting out strings of “shits” and “fucks” along with your name. He threw his head back as he let out the loudest groan coming out of your phone, which made you gasp and drop your jaw as you realized what was going on.

Zoro’s hand and lower abdomen were covered in pearly yet translucent liquid while he caught his breath. After he collects himself and looks at the mess, he simply just laughs, menacingly as taunts you for not being able to come.

“Oh, would you look at that…” Zoro spoke, “Look at the mess I made… If only you were here to use that pretty tongue to clean me up…”

You hated him at this moment. He teased you only for him to come without you. You certainly were not going to let this go. You began whining at him and telling him about how much you need your release only for him to laugh again.

“As much as I want to help you, I have a final to win, so I better have some sleep,” he spoke as if he didn’t just pull that sadistic move on you. You were pleading for him to let you do anything, but he just tsked and let out a denial sound. When he spoke to you, you felt chills run through your skin, goosebumps pimpling up as his husky voice began echoing in his room.

“You better not touch yourself until I get back… Everything I’ve mentioned to you wasn’t empty words; they’re a promise, so if you want that, you better listen… you got that?”

You simply only gulped and closed your legs in obedience and slight disappointment, as you realized you wouldn’t get what you wanted after, “Y-yes, Zoro…”

“Good girl… now I’ll talk to you tomorrow, good night,”

You say with a pout disgruntled, “Alright… good night.”

After you two hung up you just huffed as you looked up at the ceiling disappointed as you hadn’t gotten what you wanted from Zoro, and you were about to disobey him.

‘He’s not here anyways, so why should I follow through?’ you thought to yourself and your hand darted down where you wanted it to be only to receive a message from Zoro. You contemplated ignoring it but something told you to open it, and you don’t know whether you want to thank or curse yourself for doing so.

Zoro simply just sent an image of the aftermath; his veiny, masculine hand was covered in all white, perfectly created an art piece, followed by a message that says, “I know you wanna lick this so bad… you better not touch yourself…”

You’re gonna kill Zoro when he comes back for the damage he caused.

characters are owned by oda. i will not tolerate nor accept translation, reposts on other websites, or plagiarism. divider made by mmadeinheavenn.

[saltofmercury]

Part two <3

Pairing: König x reader

Summary: Aftermath of Games

A/N: just kidding!!! Here's part 2! Happy February fools!

Games part ii

König stood inside his empty house. He never understood why you were so childish sometimes. He never understood why he couldn’t communicate. He wasn’t upset at you, he just assumed you had wanted privacy when reading a card addressed to him. Shit, he would want privacy reading a Valentine’s Day card. 

He walked to the end of the couch, seeing the discarded card on top of his coffee table, with your mug next to it. The blue and yellow pieces of Sorry!, had been left untouched, seeing that König was going to win one more round.

He smiled at the game, the colorful mug you left, and then, at the card. What a shitty way to end the night.

He sat down and reached over to open the card again, small colorful hearts surrounding it. He knew what this meant. The card clearly wasn’t a token of friendship. Making friends was hard for him. The minute he found someone like you he just wanted to keep that platonic relationship he had craved so much as a child.

He loved how you two created a friendship from the start. He felt so comfortable and secure around you. He could sit around his house and do nothing. He never had to think about entertaining you; he could just be him at his house.

You guys would play games on the nintendo switch, or you would watch him play games. There was a comfort between you two that you shared. He waited for phone calls from you to talk about your day, sometimes he felt like you were so far away when you stayed at your place, went to work, and then called him at night.

Although, there were many cases where your “friendship” crossed the line into “lovers.”

He knew what you did to him. He couldn’t help how his heart ached at night when you wouldn’t spend the night. How waking up in the middle of night because of a nightmare had him reaching for you, feeling your warmth next to him, calming him down. 

He loved the way his body gravitated towards you, wherever you were in the house. How he needed to take a hug from you, steal a kiss from you, even just the way you touched the small of his back trying to get through when he was standing in the kitchen. 

Especially when you guys made love in the dark, he remembered the curves of your body, the sounds emitted from you, the placement of your hands on him wanting to touch all of him, and breathy moans and slow exhales you exerted.

Friends did not do this.

He knew he liked you, but he loved your friendship as well. Most of his relationships either ended as friendships that never blossomed, mostly in part of the men and women that were being polite telling him “I think I see ourselves as friends” and did not want to continue the relationship, or quick hookups that would fizzle out because he could not  reciprocate what they wanted in a relationship.

He opened the card, god… he felt like such an asshole. Scribbled across the entire card was your perfect penmanship, confessing to how you appreciated this relationship but wanted more.

*

You stared at the ceiling in your room. 

God you felt stupid. Taking a leap of faith based on what you had felt. It was clear that you misread things, but you weren’t going to continue being in a situationship. You had made up your mind. 

Embarrassment filled your chest and head, and you could feel the tears welling up in the corner of your eyes.

Your phone next to you pinged.

Well so much for space.

“Checking you made it home okay. Are you alright?” 

Read the message from König.

You kind of hated how he didn’t chase after you. He always lets you storm off during an argument. It wasn’t like in the movies or books you read about romance.

Another ping.

“Can we talk?”

It was now or never. 

“I’m fine, I can talk.” You typed out.

Your phone began to buzz and your heart started to beat so fast and loud in your head. You answered it.

“Hi”, the hoarseness in your throat sounded awful.

“Hi schatz, man.. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“I’m not crying” you lied, 

“I know when you’re crying, I know when you’re upset.” He said sternly.

“Okay m’sorry” you exhaled, feeling reprimanded instead of comforted.

“I want to come over, can I?”

“I just want space right now, I think it would be best if you don't, I don’t like crying in front of you.”

Fuck why were you so stubborn?

“Hartnäckig…” he mumbled. He knew you were being stubborn. 

“Okay then I’ll stay on the phone with you and tell you this,”

A brief inhale and exhale. 

“I’m sorry I made you feel like this, I didn’t mean for this to blow up the way it did. I just thought, maybe it would be embarrassing for you to see me read this letter in front of you.”

Silence

“I never want to make you feel embarrassed for something as thoughtful as you did, I’m kind of an awful person for —“

“You’re not an awful person König.” You managed to put out.

“I feel like I am. I’m just trying to say, I know it took a lot from you to write these things down and for me to dismiss them without really knowing what was inside the card, it’s awful.”

You sniffled. You wanted to forgive him, but part of you realized he hasn’t brought up where it would place you two.

“Schatz, are you still there?”

“Yeah”

“Can I tell you a story about Valentine’s Day?”

*

After he had explained the story of the kids teasing him, now you felt bad for even thinking that he was trying to dismiss your feelings.

You guys stayed up until 4 in the morning mumbling to one another childhood stories. 

You laughed softly.

“I love when you laugh,” he said softly over the phone. “I miss you, I wish you were here tonight.”

“I know I’m sorry for the miscommunication on my part.”

“On our parts…” he started up again.

“Why don’t we go to sleep?” You suggested trying to finally let go of the miscommunication that happened.

“I can’t sleep without you, ” he responded.

You sighed, “I know, I’m sorry.”

“I’m coming over” he blurted out

“No don’t it’s…” you briefly checked the clock by your bedside “it’s 4 in the morning crazy.”

“You’re going to let me sleep alone?”

“Yes just for tonight” you teased.

You could hear him shuffling on the other end. You knew he was up to something.

“Don’t come over here! I’m serious, it's so late and I don’t want to risk an accident.”

“Schatz please, I want to make it up to you I promise I’ll be safe.” 

He couldn’t bear it any longer. Everything was better when you were next to him and he wasn’t going to let a small squabble prevent him from seeing you or sleeping next to you.

“König…” you started, knowing he was probably looking for his scarf to hide his face, and looking for his shoes.

“Give me 15 minutes.” He hung up the phone.

You sighed, felt shy again.

Within 15 minutes, his black g-wagon pulled up the curb. You saw him climb out in the darkness, his blondish hair glistening in twilight. 

He had barely tied his shoes, some of the laces hanging loose and you could see the scarf hanging down, not wrapped around his face. He practically jumped from the car, to the curb, and jogged toward your door. There was anticipation, no control to see you.

You opened the door before he could knock. His wide legs stumbled in and he had wrapped his hand around the back of your neck connecting his lips with yours. The kiss was urgent, feverish. He opened wider to have your tongue inside his, his other hand pushing, crushing your body onto his. 

You had pulled back, exhaling out of breath. His bare face was there in front of you.

He looked at you, smiled and kissed your lips again.

“I’m sorry I’m such an asshole.”

You kept breathing hard. Mesmerized by his face.

“It’s okay, you’re not”

“I read your letter…” he continued looking down into your eyes, looking at your lips 

“You don’t kiss your friends, and I don’t want to be.” He exhaled, picked you up and carried you to bed.

Dumping you on the bed he pulled off your clothes to just down your underwear and then stripped himself down. 

He smiled, “I know, I know no outside clothes on your bed.” 

Climbed on top of the bed and pulled you close to him. He breathed a sigh of relief, bringing himself to the crook of your neck. 

You also felt relieved, playing with his hair. Everything was okay now. The twilight soon turned to early morning and you fell asleep.

*

When you woke up in the morning, the warmth next to you was cold. Your side freezing and missing him. You reached out for him or the blanket, but König was gone…

You sat up and looked around.

Was it all a dream that you had played in your head? You checked the clock on your phone, 10:15.

You stood up, you could’ve sworn he was here. You felt him last night. You walk into your living room.

Standing in the middle of the living room, surrounded by what seemed like thousands of red, pink, white roses was König, gently placing the vases everywhere. Your entire living room covered in petals, and a floral scent surrounding you.

“König?” You say in shock. How did he get so many?!

He turned around sheepishly and smiled

“I told you I would make it up to you.”

[heartpascal]

fight the tide

▹— joel miller x platonic!reader

▹— summary: you face the consequences of going to seattle

▹— a/n: hello, this ended up being different to what i had planned. i hope yall enjoy anyway. its very angsty. very sad. at least to me. be careful with what you read. mind the warnings. love you.

▹— warnings: MAJOR TLOU 2 SPOILERS, suicidal ideation, or thinking about dying, almost hoping to die, major character death (referenced), canon-typical violence, eg murder, descriptions of blood / being covered in blood, kinda religious imagery / talks of divinity (no explicit religion mentioned), hints at a possible romance with jesse

▹— taglist: @rhymingtree @sleepygraves @wnstice (everything!) @auggiesolovey @just-kaylaa @evyiione @lemonlaides @fariylixie0915  @faceache111 @randomhoex @canpillowscry @pedropascalsrealgf @star-wars-lover @coolchick333 @soobsdior @rvjaa @sunflowersdrop @definitely-not-a-seagull-i-swear @miss-celestial-being (pedro)

MASTERLIST

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Setting off from Jackson was a distant memory, by now. It was hazed over, an image in your mind that didn’t seem to fit into reality, no matter how you tried it.

The past few weeks didn’t seem real to you, either.

More than once, you had found yourself waiting to wake up. As if all of this could be some sort of bad dream. A nightmare that you couldn’t escape, no matter how many times you pinched and clawed at yourself, trying to figure out how to prove that this wasn’t real.

Because, really, how could it be? This world, this city, it didn’t feel like it could be true. You didn’t feel like you, and this certainly didn’t feel like it was your life. Wherever you looked, the terrain showed the aftermath of a rampage.

Bodies strewn across the ground, puddles of red dripping down curbs, down cars, down buildings, down your hands. It was beneath your fingernails, caked into your hair, drying on your clothes. For a moment, you thought it was yours. It was the only plausible reason for why you were feeling so empty, wasn’t it? The only explanation for why your heart felt as if it would burst at any given moment.

This rampage was an act of such violence, such rage, it seemed unfathomable to you. You couldn’t remember a time where you had felt something so deeply that it presented as destruction. As a massacre.

That was the word for this, too. Massacre. All of these bodies were once people, once held love and life and the ability to hurt and kill others, just as you did. And when you looked closer, when you looked at their guns and their knives, the bows and the arrows, you knew they had been trying to kill you.

It made sense.

You didn’t want it to, but it did.

These people had tried to kill you, had tried to slaughter you, and they had ended up dead for it. It wasn’t the first time that had happened, either. Joel had killed more people than you could count, just for the crime of trying to bring you harm. It made sense that he would do it again.

“Joel?” You called, your voice echoing in the empty surroundings, bouncing off of bodies and weapons, off of the tangible feeling of death that hung in the air.

Your chest was heaving, breath entering and leaving your lungs so rapidly that it didn’t have time to supply the oxygen you so desperately needed. You hadn’t noticed how unsteady your breathing was, until you had spoken, until you had called out for Joel. It made you feel dizzy, all of a sudden, like everything was hitting you all at once.

For a moment, you didn’t notice that he hadn’t answered you.

But his silence lingered, and the only thing you could hear through it was the sound of your own panicking breaths.

That feeling from earlier — the one of your heart, which had been feeling as if it would burst at any given moment, revealed itself as a choked sob. It jumped out of your throat when you opened your mouth to call for Joel again.

Your devastation didn’t register, for more than a moment. Until you remembered why you were here, why there was a gun in your hand, empty of ammunition. When you looked around, you didn't find Joel. Instead, all you found was blood and death and your machete lay on the ground, a dent in the grass, covered in blood and gore.

There was something hanging over your head, something which felt as if it was holding your head underwater. It felt like the water was forcing its way down your throat, into your lungs, filling them up until all you could do was choke, heave on the lack of breath. Your head was exploding, pressure against the sides of your skull, pushing out, out, out, like a fungus was bursting through you. Only the vague feeling of your hand pressing against your head reassured you that you weren’t Infected.

The memories flashed before your eyes, distorting the image of destruction ahead of you, filling your mind with reality. Joel. Cracked skull, insides out. The unrelenting taste of iron on your tongue, your teeth. Getting on a horse in Jackson, and leaving. Fighting your way through Infected, people, even past Tommy. All in your search for vengeance, for Abby.

And all it had led you to was before you, laid out in death.

Did this make you a monster? Was it evil? You’re not sure if you believe in such a thing anymore, but if you did, you think it would look like a woman, braided hair, golf club raised in the air. But there’s this nagging feeling at the base of your skull, asking you, are you better?

You don’t know what it means. Are you better? Than what? Because of this? You want to ask Joel, but when you turn, he’s still there. Still lay out on concrete, skull scattered around the room, blood staining your skin.

It’s all you can think of. It’s all you can see. Even in the bodies around you, the people that you killed, you see a flash of white, a splatter of blood, and it’s all Joel. There’s the imprint of his boot in the grass, the sound of his voice in the wind, but the only heartbeat you can hear is your own.

Your knees press into the grass, and you stain your jeans with blood, but it feels soft. Softer than the concrete in that basement, softer than the frozen dirt in front of his gravestone. It’s welcoming, or something like it, and your heart aches with it.

A sound breaks through the air, pierces through the air that carries Joel’s voice, and it takes you more than a moment of your throat aching to realise it’s you. And there’s disappointment in that, you realise, that the only person here is you. Nobody is here to kill you, and nobody is here to protect you.

The sound coming from you doesn’t sound like your voice, doesn’t have any familiarity to you. It doesn’t convey words, but rather something harsher, something deeper, a sound which traverses language and time. It breaks these barriers, and empties the chest of something ancient, something eternal.

It wavers as time passes, it comes and goes, much like your recognition. Sometimes, you’re here, belting out something that doesn’t fit into words, and then you’re there, screaming out for mercy that never comes. And all you can hear is Joel, and he’s yelling at you, to you, but you can’t tell what he’s saying.

All you can see is his lips spelling something that he couldn’t say, that you couldn’t translate. You want to tell him you love him. You want to scream at him for going down there. You want him to pull you away from these corpses, but he can’t, and neither can you.

No matter how hard you try, there’s nothing you can do to pull yourself up, to overcome that weight that continues to drown you. It presses down on you until your nose is against the grass, and all you can smell is iron and dirt.

You stay there, one palm pressed against the machete that had been resting on the ground, the other gripping the dirt, for what seems like eternity. There’s no escape from it, nowhere you can turn to pull yourself from this mourning, this hell. And you know that nobody is coming to save you.

It sends a chill down your spine — tingling and bringing feeling back to limbs that had long-since turned numb, the realisation that you are going to end up just like Joel.

Here, against the ground, reduced to something less than human.

And — like Joel — there’s no fighting it.

If Abby approached, golf club raised to the heavens, you would accept it. You would welcome it.

Because surely, whatever would be waiting you, it would be better than this. This endless moment of suffering, of pain and grief so deep it encompasses your whole being. You wonder—hope that Joel would be waiting for you.

You feel guilty, a moment later, because you know that Joel deserves to rest—whatever that meant. And you also know that he had never done that, when he was around you. It was selfish to hope for him to be waiting for you, to hope that he would put whatever was awaiting him on hold, all for you.

Joel had been waiting to die for a long, long time.

Ever since Sarah.

And that fact sends a fresh wave of guilt through you, as if you could hold on to any more emotion, because Sarah was his daughter. She was everything he had wanted, since the moment she was born. And he had been waiting to join her. He had waited for Tommy, for Tess, and then for you and Ellie.

Maybe, Sarah sent Abby for him.

Maybe she got tired of waiting for her dad, whilst he feigned dad for two orphans, left alone in the bitter end of the world.

You try to think of her like that. Some sort of angel, a gift sent from Sarah, all to give Joel the mercy of death. To give him the easy way out. Because Joel didn’t have a choice about dying, Abby had made sure of that, so he couldn’t feel an ounce of guilt for leaving you and Ellie and Tommy to pick up the pieces, to carry his body home to an empty house, a dip in the earth.

It made sense to you, somehow.

Abby seemed so… unmovable.

She was like the force of nature. Nothing you, or Joel, or anyone, had done would’ve stopped her from doing what she did.

If you thought of her like this, as something divine, something above yourself, it was easier. It was easier to forgive yourself for failing to stop her, and now, for failing to end her.

But it also makes the guilt so much heavier.

And you don’t know how you can carry it, anymore.

Because if she was that, if she was something like a divine intervention, then you were doing everything that Joel had never wanted, for nothing. This, right here, this explosion of death, this blood, staining your hands, was what Joel had tried to steer you away from.

He didn’t want you to turn out like him.

Angry, burned, covered in blood.

Monstrous.

He was covered in the scent of stale blood, of death so old it had decayed to nothing, to earth and ash and life reborn. He was stained with it. Distorted by it. It had made his vision red, for as long as he could remember.

Joel didn’t want that for you.

Joel didn’t want you to end up here, knelt in the grass, drenched in blood and sweat, in guts and gore and everything wrong with this world.

And there’s even more guilt in that knowledge. You’re disappointing him. You can practically hear his voice ringing through the air, asking you what you were doing, why you were doing it. You could hear him telling you that he’s not worth all of this. It hurts that you can’t tell him otherwise. If he was here, you could have screamed at him, told him he was worth everything. But he’s not.

How do you carry that around with you? How can you? Are you supposed to drag the weight of Joel’s dead body behind you for the rest of your life?

He would tell you to let him go. He would tell you to live your life. But Joel had never really understood just what he meant to you, to everybody. He could never quite grasp the concept that he was loved, that he was one of the reasons you got up in the morning, one of the reasons you always fought to go home.

The problem is—you don’t want to let him go.

Your hand curls around the grass beneath it, sticky with blood, as if you could physically hold on to him. More than anything, you’re worried about losing the memories. If you let go of Joel, if you let his death fade to the back of your mind, would his life follow? Would you start to forget everything he had done for you? Everything he had meant to you?

Would you forget the sound of his laughter? The smile that only appeared on occasions, which lit up his entire face? The hug he greeted you with when you came home after a particularly hard day? The embarrassing talk he gave you about liking people your age? The feeling of having a father?

If you could, you would stay in those memories forever.

A ghost in your own past, haunting the man who had gone somewhere you couldn’t quite bring yourself to follow. You would go through all of that, the good and the bad, all over again, if it meant you could stay with Joel. Because despite everything, all of the things you had lived through, Joel Miller had become your home.

How could he expect you to let go of that? How could you be okay with that? After the life that you had led, you deserved to go home. It was hard not to resent Joel for expecting you to be okay with letting him go—divine intervention or not.

And you know, that if the tables were turned, if it were you who had been buried, if it was Joel who was here right now, he wouldn’t let you go. He would hunt Abby down, and he would make her suffer for what she had done, because Joel Miller was a force of nature, too.

Either way, he would have to find her.

So, shouldn’t you?

You think that you need to know. You have to find out if she’s this unearthly being that you have made her out to be. You need to know if you could’ve stopped her. If Joel could be alive, right here, right now.

There’s something so poetic about it all, you think.

Maybe, if you were in a better headspace, you could’ve figured it out. But really, what use was poetry in this world?

You’re working up the courage, the ability, to move, when you hear the footsteps crunching gravel just behind you. They’re heavy, purposeful, and you realise you’re still weeping, still screaming out for someone who can’t come. You think—hope—that this is Abby, here to put an end to this suffering. To these unending questions.

But there’s a warm hand against your back, a moment later, and no golf club swung at your skull.

“I’ve got ya, kiddo.” A voice says to you, hands grasping your shoulders, the twang of an accent so familiar that you’re reaching out, eyes closed, waiting for the person to reach back. When they do, your eyes open, but it’s not who you thought it was. You hadn’t died on this grass, and Joel wasn’t here to get you. Instead, Tommy stood in his place, his hands cleaner than your own.

When you look around, you wonder if you’re the monster that people will tell their children about. The person who ripped people to shreds, who tore them apart for no reason other than a quest for vengeance, one that wasn’t even fulfilled. Maybe, you think, you will become a cautionary tale. A warning for others. An example of what not to become, even in the apocalypse.

This was senseless. It was a slaughter.

All of these people are dead, and you don’t even know their names. They fought to protect themselves and the people around them, something of a team, maybe even a family, all because you are angry, and you are hurt, and you miss your dad. How many of these people have families at home? Families who will never see them again, because of you.

You know you’re not a divine being.

There was no otherworldly reason for your massacre. There was nobody behind a curtain, choosing your actions. No—there was just you.

What right did you have to decide these people should die? What right did you have to end their lives? Was one man—one dead man—truly worth this? Did he deserve to be the reason for your murderous rampage? Would he have wanted this? Would he be proud?

“C‘mere.” Tommy says, kneeling on the ground beside you, and shifting you until he could hold you tightly in his arms. If you don’t focus so much, if you let your mind wander, this could be Joel. It could be your dad hugging you, staining his clothes with the blood you’re drowning in. They’re similar enough, brothers, that you can imagine it is.

He’s holding you together.

“We need to get you out of here.” Tommy tells you, breaking the illusion you had been hoping to live in forever. You know he’s being patient with you — you can tell with every gust of wind that rustles the grass below you. Each one could bring more people, more bodies, yet Tommy refuses to rush you. Instead, he holds you tightly, like the cracks in your surface may lead to you bursting.

You suppose he’s right to worry.

His brother is dead. Joel is dead. And here he is, holding you in one piece, as if that wind could shatter you.

Selfishly, you don’t want him to be patient, or gentle, or kind. You want Tommy to show you some kind of mercy, to bring you peace of mind, of soul. But he can’t, unless he has some kind of insight that you don’t, unless he has ripped Abby apart and seen the divinity in her creation.

“C’mon,” Jesse says then, appearing out of seemingly nowhere. You hadn’t realised he was even nearby. Didn’t hear him approaching, though that could’ve been because of the unearthly wailing that had surrounded you. “I’m sorry,” He says, hand wiping at your face where it rests against Tommy’s shoulder. “We have to go. We have to go now. I’m sorry.”

And he does sound sorry—god, he sounds more apologetic than you had ever heard him.

You don’t know if he’s sorry for making you get up, for making you face the world again, or if he’s sorry that you’re even here, sorry that Joel is dead. You don’t know which you would prefer. You try to decide, and realise not long after that the two of them had pulled you to your feet, hands gripping you, waiting for you to hold yourself up.

“Jesse,” You choke out, reaching for him, as if seeing him for the first time. His hands are holding your own before you can even get out another word, uncaring of the blood that covers them. He squeezes once, twice, thrice, before he lets go to press his hands to your cheeks, grounding you, almost.

“It’s okay.” He says, and you can see in his eyes that he knows it’s a lie.

He takes your hand, pats your cheek, his forehead against your own for no more than a moment, before he’s letting Tommy take over, letting the man soothe his fatherly instincts. Uncle Tommy. You imagine a life where you would have called him that.

Tommy leads you away.

Away from the bodies, the gore, the guilt, hopefully. He grips onto you the whole way, pulls you along every time you stumble, holds you up whenever you long to fall. All the way until you reach a theatre, where Ellie and Dina have been bunkered, one of them tells you. We’re going home.

You wonder if they’re going to bury you in the ground, beside Joel. Home. You think it sounds nice.

[volturissideslut]

Hii!! Can you do Jane x reader where she’s Jane’s mate but still human. One day some important information gets leaked out and everyone in the volturi thinks the reader leaked the info. (Aro can’t read her mind) So they question her for a long time and when she still says that she didn’t do it they make Jane torture her with her power. As Jane is torturing her someone walks in and says that she didn’t do it. By the time Jane stops the reader is passed out. Everyone and mostly Jane regrets what they’ve done. The reader doesn’t wake up for a few days and Jane is in absolute sorrow. And when she finally wakes up she doesn’t even look Jane in the eyes bc of the betrayal she feels. Just a lot of angst yk:))) Buuut they make up in the end. Thank youuu🫶🏻

𝕵𝖆𝖓𝖊 𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖎

This is more of the aftermath than anything. Mentions of looking thinner

"Get out"

Though your voice was hoarse, it didn't lessen the impact. Not one bit. Jane didn't think it was possible to vampires to have panic attacks, yet what else could this be. Why was her chest so tight? She doesn't need to breathe. And though she can't sweat he skin feels clammy behind all her layers. She's a vampire, their brains go fast - she could finish a novel in five minutes, but this feels too fast. It's making her dizzy. It's making her sick.

"Please-" her mouth feels dry. Is she panting? Why does it feel like Felix is cracking her chest again? You two can get through this. You can move past this. The thought is the only thing keeping her semi-rational right now. "I can't even look at you right now. Please leave, Jane. I can't see you anymore" and god you look so broken. And she did it. Your skin looks sickly, at least seven shades yellower. And your eyes - so dull - are dragged down by the bags she gave you. Are you thinner? You look thinner, you look malnourished. Definitely unhealthy.

It's the shakey movement of your hand accompanied by a wince that pulls her from her intense observation. And she remembers what you want. She wants to stay - absolutely has to - but she can't ruin this even more. She needs to save this and even now she recognises that her being here will be detrimental to that. So she does leave.

Out the door, she sits on the floor and stares at the ceiling. Not that her eyes are recognising anything though. No. Her head is leaned back against the big double door to your shared chambers and all she can bring herself to do is listen intently to your heartbeat. You're still here. You're still safe.

You, on the other side of the door, can no longer bring yourself to stifle your own sobs at the betrayal. Your mate, your love, the one who promised to always protect you, had actually been the only vampire to hurt you. The only one you ever truly trusted. Though her gift is mental, the rough treatment had still hared you. But it was hard to tell what hurt more - the mental scar on the one on your heart.

Could you even stay?

Maybe it was time to leave

--------

That night you packed, leaving through the window. Were you as strong as them? No. But could trust Jane and be in the same place as her? Also no.

It was killing you just to be in that room, with all of them memories. All of them were now tainted, and now you could see all the similarities between her room and the dungeons.

Bag at your side mainly just filled with your previous belongings you couldn't part with, you climbed out the window only to be face to face with Alec. For fucks sake.

"You shouldn't be here," his tone was more concerned than accusing. Was he actually worried for you, though, or was he more bothered about his sister? that seemed like the more likely answer. "come. Ill walk you back" he takes the bag for you and begins to guide you gently back, hand delicately on your arm as if you were made of porcelain. He looked guilty. Remorseful even.

He led you back the longer way round as if he was giving you time. He even sat with you in the garden for a few minutes - until Jane cane storming through.

"There you are! Your heartbeat grew faint and the window was open and I-" and her hand are on your face. She stops speaking when you flinch back, heart dropping to her feet, until she feels you lean into her.

Damn mate bond and damn exhaustion because you let yourself fall into her. She can feel your heart rate speed up in fear but feels frozen when you make no effort to move away.

"Let's- let's get you to bed, yeah?" she turns her head, face frightened as she mouths a 'thank you' to Alec for keeping you here and safe. He just nods, head down as he shares part of her shame. A drop in the bucket compared to hers, though.

--------

Here she lay, back in your shared chambers, sat up against the headboard of the bed while you lay on their lap asleep. Icy fingers comb through your hair and scratch lightly at your scalp.

"We'll be okay, right? We'll be okay."

[osaevsky]

CONGRATS ON 100 NIKO!!!!! maybe some nsfw + atsushi + prompt 18? <3 enjoy the rest of your break friend

niko's 100 followers event.

'cause when i'm around you, i tend not to changin' my mind ⚝ included: atsushi nakajima.⠀;    ♡

🥮⠀⠀·⠀⠀⚝⠀⠀⠀;  word count: 1.1k + warnings: gn reader, nsfw, friends with benefits / unestablieshed relationship, kinda dom atsu, degradation (slut, whore, cockslut), petnames (lovely, baby, precious), spooning, finger sucking, slight choking, cumming inside, edging. lmk if i forgot anything.

🥮⠀⠀·⠀⠀⚝⠀⠀⠀;  author's note: thank you reid !! <3 i can't really say i didn't write this with my cunt so i pretty much got carried away in some parts oops. i hope you enjoy it anyway lol.

Being friends with benefits with Atsushi was not a premeditated thought, but rather something spontaneous that left his mouth mid-fuck. And as you thought he got too carried away with his feelings, he asked you once more during the aftermath of it all. 

Agreeing was something just as spontaneous. Why would you say no to this, or Atsushi himself? There was not an actual reason to avoid it. He got you to show him the ropes after trial and error and you took care of your needs with someone as pretty as him, a fair exchange in the end. 

Oh but how he loved to show you how much enthusiasm he had. How he wanted to learn your body, and how desired he felt when you reciprocated the same feelings as him, especially when he left his needy hands to take a grasp over your shirt, tracing over the expanse of your chest, or hooking one of his fingers into your belt and pulling you closer. 

Atsushi was a charmer, even with his awkward manners and that occasional attitude he was able to put out when he wanted to take the reins.

He had you enamored by everything he did from just a few months of spending intimate moments together, but it was because of him, as you were very much aware that if it had been anyone else, it would not have been the same, not even close. 

After spending another night at your apartment, waking up to him disheveled, his back facing you as the rest of him laid under the sheets of your bed. It wasn’t long before he was the one turning over, his eyes partially closed as his arm wrapped around your waist so casually, like he had memorized the movement by now -you were sure he did-, and pulling you closer to his chest. 

Atsushi’s breathing was now right on your neck, soft and composed, as his nose nuzzled into your skin while he held you as if you were ready to break. A different touch to when he got to spend those mornings next to you, even if nothing had happened the night before, Atsushi was so careful with everything: where he put his hands, how hard he pulled you, how overall rough he was. It made your heart melt and he knew it. 

As you tried to close your eyes once more, he began to peck down your nape, his hand moving upwards to pull your shirt just slightly and expose your shoulder. You could swear you heard him chuckle under his breath, already seeing how receptive your body was to his touches: goosebumps appearing over your skin with just a few kisses, and your head tilting to leave more space for him to bite afterwards.

‘’Feels that good already? They’re just a few kisses, I didn’t remember you being this sensitive’’ He asked, not stopping his little chatter before he finished off with a small love bite, close to one of your shoulder blades. A pained whine escaped your lips, catching him off guard for once, wondering what he did wrong. 

‘’Why did you stop?’’ Oh, so that's what it was. 

He didn’t do anything wrong, of course not; you were just needy for more, just like he had been for weeks to no end when this agreement started. He began to wonder if he could love you more than he already did when he saw you like this, asking for more in between whines and pushing your hips back to meet his.

‘’You’re gonna start acting like a greedy slut now? That’s what’s about, huh.’’ Although he degraded you, who was he to not comply, pushing his hips a bit more into yours, making you feel the outline of his dick under his pants. His cock was beginning to harden and throb against your body, looking for more friction, for it to be inside of you already.

The hand that played with your shirt earlier grabbed your chin for a split second, meeting your eye as he forced you to turn your head back at him. You could tell he was asking if he could move forward, and you nodded. 

You could already tell how eager he was about it, too: how fast he pushed your pants down slightly and his, how his fingers brushed over the swell of your ass and got to grip your hips right after, steadying you while your leg moved upwards, waiting for him to slide in. Atsushi’s free hand traveled over your stomach, caressing your chest in the process as it reached your mouth, his thumb softly pressing on your bottom lip. 

‘’Open up, lovely.’’ Atsushi did not waste any time in getting his finger right inside for you to suck on it as a way to shush your little cries when he decided to slide inside, pressing down on your tongue a little harder when he saw you already clamping down on his dick. ‘’Relax, baby, take it easy, you always do so well for me- yeah, just like that, so proud of you.’’ 

The throbbing of his cock as he settled inside of you was beginning to grow painful, but he was doing his best to remain patient for you, waiting for your body to adjust. He slowly removed his thumb away from your mouth, bringing his fingers down to your throat and wrapping them there. 

‘’Please, please, move, need to feel you more, please, Atsu-’’ He tightened the grip around your throat as you spoke, slowly making your voice sound weaker, while his was surely trying to mock you. 

‘’You sure act like a whore. All that blabber just from my dick? Tsk, I thought you knew better. Begging already like a desperate cockslut. You sure missed my touch that much, did you?’’ 

But Atsushi would indulge you, even if you thought he wouldn’t, making you think like you needed to beg some more.

There was not an actual need, as he began to thrust his hips into yours with sharp movements, not waiting anymore as he had enough himself. The squeezing around your throat went lighter as he lost his grip, slowly losing himself inside your walls as Atsushi felt his own climax approaching. 

Just a tad quicker than yours would, as he was purposely looking for his own peak, selfishly fucking himself into you without regard, cumming deep, deep inside like he liked to. 

At the sight of your confused -and pained- expression, various ‘’wait, wait, atsu- i didn’t- atsushi, please-’’ coming out slurred, wondering why he did not let you cum, watching how he pulled out, leaving your hole to spasm around nothing, his lips pecked your cheek from the side, slowly but carefully moving to settle between your thighs as he accommodated you on your back. 

‘’Looks like you’re about to cry, precious. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, I just wanna make sure you cum on my tongue instead, alright?’’ 

[dirtytransmasc]

concept, cause the dynamics at play would be super interesting:

when Tuk and Neytiri are sucked into the hold of the Seadragon, what if Spider, unwilling to watch another one of this baby siblings, nor his siblings mother (despite everything cause he's a good kid), die without doing anything, jumps in after them?

they're now stuck in a flooding ship, spider knows his way around to a decent extent, they're all tired, they're all scared, they're all hurting. they have to depend on each other for survival.

Neytiri has to not only trust Spider, but has to follow his lead, has to trust him to guide her around a demon ship, has to untrust not only her own life, but the life of her youngest child to this boy.

Maybe they're separated, they have to find one another (my personal favorite scenario is that Tuk and Spider are together and he has to try and find her/guide Neytiri to him)

Spider taking Neytiri and Tuk's arms so they aren't separated by stray currents and raging waters (a parallel to "Sully's stick together"). Spider talking them through the breath holds he learned as a kid in case his mask malfunctioned before bringing them through the depths of the submerged ship (parallel to Jake and Lo'ak)

anyway. I just can't stop thinking about it. think about it.

Neytiri is faced with the fact that Spider jumped in after her and Tuk. he came for them, he put himself in danger to save them, to save her daughter. even after what she did to him. even after she held a knife to him, after she cut him, after she intended to kill him even after Kiri was released. he still jumped to her aid, even if he could have stayed with Kiri above deck where he was safe, he could have just aided Tuk and left her behind, but he didn't.

and there's so many ways to play with it and the aftermath. like.

Spider dragging both Tuk and Neytiri up the surface, trying his best to keep the trio afloat (namely Neytiri who was much less adjusted to the water and is exhausted by the night they've had) as they hope and pray to be reunited with the rest of their family.

maybe the stress gets to them and Spider just starts apologizing. I should have fought them harder. I shouldn't have let Lo'ak and Neteyam try and leave with me, I would have been fine. I should have seen it coming, should have taken it myself. it should have been me. my baby brother shouldn't be dead.

maybe he becomes partly delirious as he too gives into exhaustion, the big brother in him being the only part of him left coherent, so he takes Tuk close, whispering prrnen tsmuke [baby sister] over and over into her braids, assuring himself that she's safe and unharmed. he keeps praying to the Great Mother for his siblings to return to him unharmed. maybe he keeps asking where they are, if they're safe as his awareness fades and his memory weakens. all of his siblings. asking if Neteyam is ok, only to remember he's gone the second the words leave his tongue.

Jake and Lo'ak finding them when they come up with Payakan, both worse for wear, exhausted, clinging to one another, the only thing keeping their heads above water being spiders life vest, Tuk cradled between them. what a sight.

Neytiri watching as Spider looks over each of his siblings, taking them close, holding onto them as if they will be ripped away from him. the realization that he would die before he let that happen again hitting her like a ton of bricks the second she sees the look in his eyes.

a peace being made between the two in the wake of this event. spider silently claiming the role of big brother (he always was, but he had to pretend he wasn't. with Neteyam gone, he can't pretend he's not anymore), Neytiri silently agreeing.

idk man. it would be interesting.

[vxntagedior]

hello! i've got a request if you don't mind. could you please write xavier x reader who's kinda like wednesday (in a way she's afraid of being seen vulnerable) but is really easy to make cry if it makes sense(?) maybe they're some kind of rivals and one day (a really bad day for the reader) xavier is a little too harsh on her (comparing her with some other girl so her competitive side who's rival with him is all "!!!") so she wants to go away to hide the tears but the boy is to mean this time so he follows her and see her crying. then she ignores him for 2 weeks bc boy needs to suffer a little. you really can do whatever you want with it it's just a thought. i always see reader being written as a badass but when a boy literally mocks her bad she's all oh please let me make out w/you<3 but cmon boys need to suffer a little too. deserve to be forgiven you know?? that's why i liked your aftermath the best! you're so talented i want to thank god for your brains! thank u in advance! take care! (sorry if anything's wrong, never wanted to make you uncomfortable)

adding salt to a wound

summary | after a harsh day, xavier just had to take another jab at you

pairing | xavier thorpe x fem!reader

warning | academic rivals to lovers, angst with a hopeful ending insecure!reader, their relationship is unclear at the end

word count | 1.2k

Just waking up in the morning, you already knew it was going to be a bad day. You spent the entire night last night on the phone arguing with your mother. What started as a normal catch up, turned into a screaming match between the two of you that probably woke up all the girls on your floor. 

Your eyes were still puffy as you cried yourself to sleep, your cheeks still a little swollen. You always hated crying, hated the pity that people gave you when they saw those tears, how it brought down your emotional wall, and letting people see you in a state that you hated. 

Your roommate didn’t comment on the subject which you were thankful for, hoping the rest of your day would go as smoothly as possible. Marissa, your roommate, the two of you weren’t always friendly with each other, constantly competing for that top spot in classes constantly. 

Going out for classes, skipping breakfast, trying to clean up your face to make it seem like you didn’t ball your eyes out for the whole night. 

Classes went as good as they could, none of your friends commented on your appearance, nor did they ask about your day yesterday. You stayed quieter than usual, listening to everyone instead of talking, something that they didn’t seem to notice which you were happier for. 

Coming back for the day, you liked the little moment of solitude you had before a Nightshades meeting. You were never good at keeping track of your time, constantly running late for everything, like you were now. 

Running from your dorm, trying to be as quiet as possible knowing curfew was coming up, making your way towards the Poe statue and down to the library. 

“You’re late.” God you hated his voice. Xavier had been a pain in your side since as long as you could remember. The two of you had just clashed the moment you met. It started as academic rivals but you soon were able to surpass him easily and since Xavier had made his mission in life to make your life as miserable as possible. 

“I was doing my history project.” You rolled your eyes, joining Yoko and Divina, as far as possible from Xavier. 

Before Bianca could start again, Xavier had interrupted her. “I don’t even know why you’re trying, we all know Marissa is gonna get a perfect score, showed it to us earlier.”

He knew that hit a nerve, everyone at Nevermore knew the academic rivalry you had with your roommate.

Ignoring him, you turned back to Bianca, Xavier letting out a smirk knowing he was able to get to you. 

Bianca continued to talk about the Rave’N and such, none of you really listening anymore. 

So you know who you’re taking?” Ajax was never the best whisperer, thinking he was, but everyone could hear their conversation. 

Turning his head slightly, Xavier could see you out of the corner of his eye, listening into his conversation. 

“Don’t know yet, I’ve been hanging out with Marissa a lot, maybe her.”

Your friends constantly teased you that your relationship with Xavier was soon to turn romantic, finally taking all your hate into passion. You thought about it, Xavier was handsome, he was an amazing artist, you couldn’t take that from him, and his personality was nice to anyone but you. 

As the meeting ended, you were the first one out of the library, making a beeline out towards your room. It was still fall, so the sun was starting to set, light still out. 

“Did you have to do that?” Divina glared at Xavier, “Look whatever relationship the two of you have is odd, but did you really have to hit her when she’s already down.”

Frowning, Xavier watched the rest of the Nightshades, making his way towards your room. Sliding past the housemaster and Weems, he knocked on your door praying you were the one to answer. 

Swinging the door open, your eyes widened seeing Xavier in front of you mid-cry. Xavier was just as shocked as you, never seeing you cry. 

“What do you want?” You sniffled, knowing you couldn’t keep your tears at bay. “Here to compare to Marissa again, go ahead, I’ve heard all day.”

Opening his mouth, Xavier tried to speak, his sentence never coming out. 

“Leave.” Your voice wavered, never giving him a chance to speak, you slammed the door in his face. 

Xavier stood there for a few minutes, taking in all that happened, reflecting on the two of you. It was best that he left you alone, leaving and going back to his own dorm. 

Going out for breakfast the next morning, Xavier watched as you came out, seeing you silently sit with your friends, giving them all a small smile, one that didn’t reach your eyes, making a face for everyone. 

During classes, you ignored him, during activities, you ignored him, during Nightshade meetings, you ignored him. He didn’t know how long it was going on, maybe almost 2 weeks at that point. 

Not keeping to his words, Xavier went to the Rave’N with Bianca, not that he truly wanted to. Seeing you walk in alone, your dress coming down to your thighs, you were beautiful. 

Xavier kept his eye on you during the dance, Bianca being annoyed, leaving him alone. All your friends were dancing with each other and their dates, seeing you sitting across the hall, seeing at a table alone. 

Your chin rested on your hand, just watching the sea of people dancing. 

Hearing the song change, a slower song, everyone eventually starting to couple up, holding each other close. 

Xavier saw how your face slightly dropped, seeing your eyes sullen, swallowing, Xavier got up walking towards you. 

Seeing the shadow in front of you, you looked to see Xavier standing in front of you, offering his hand towards you. 

Before you couldn’t even reject him, Xavier beat you to it. “You don’t have to talk to me, you don’t even have to look at me, but please dance with me?”

Looking down at his hand, looking back at him, before placing your hand in his. You let Xavier bring you out, standing closer to your friends, all who were looking at you and Xavier. 

Letting his hands fall to your waist, you wrapped your hands around his neck, happy that you wore heels. 

From the start of the dance, the two of you were barely close to each other, seeing a prominent gap between the two of you. Slowly, the two of you became closer and closer, ending with you, resting your head on his shoulder. 

Xavier rested his head on top of yours, swaying the two of you together. As the song came to an end, the two of you stayed together, still swaying together. 

Your face was turned to your friends, seeing the look on their faces seeing you and Xavier together. 

Still not talking to him, you pushed your face away, just simply looking at him. Xavier just smiled, looking down at you, seeing you give him a small smile before leaning back down on his chest. 

Wrapping arms tighter around you, Xavier continued to dance with you hoping the relationship the two of you had was mended.

fin.

[selfindulgentpixies]

Part five is here! I had some trouble getting going with this one. Figuring out how to follow up the aftermath of the Toji fight was a bit of a challenge even though I already had an idea of how I wanted to go about it. This is one of the more dialog heavy chapters. Some background is given for reader. Master List The next couple parts will be covering the events between Hidden inventory and Premature death. A whole lot can happen in a year after all. Suguru x reader x Satoru, GN!reader CW: Implied past child abuse though nothing is explicitly stated, descriptions of injuries in the aftermath of the fight from last chapter.Reader cries a lot which i mean is understandable. Word count:4K (Give or take)

Broken… You looked so broken laying on the ground with your arms at unnatural angles. It made Suguru feel sick as he takes several shaking steps toward you. He forces all his focus on you. He can see you’re breathing at least, shallow rapid breaths that shake your chest. He can’t say the same for Satoru. There’s no way he’s alive with how much blood has pooled all around him. Suguru tells himself he has to focus on who he can save.

Through his own pain he picks you as gently as he can. The blood from the wound in his chest mixes with the blood on your clothes. He wonders if it’s yours but doesn’t actually see injuries that would cause so much blood. His eyes flick over to Satoru’s still form and then back to you when you whimper. He feels both guilt and relief as he watches your face screw up in pain. You have enough life in you to still react to pain. You don’t wake up though. It’s for the best, he thinks bitterly. He doesn’t know how to face you right now. It’s because he and Satoru wanted you to come along that you’re like this now. Unbidden a question passes his lips, “Why’d you fight him…? You had to know you didn't have a chance.” He cradles you to his chest, gritting his teeth. He needs to get the both of you to help. The fact that you’re still alive, still with him, is something he refuses to let slip away. The bastard who did all this clearly has no qualms killing, he can only assume you’re still alive for the same reason he is but that probably won’t last if you don’t get medical attention.

____

When you wake it’s in a too stiff bed with scratchy sheets. The air smells like a combination of antiseptic and cursed energy. You’re slow to open your eyes, your head is throbbing and your eyelids feel heavy. Why are you here? And where is here? You flex your hands and your arms throb dully. 

“You’re awake.” The voice is both so familiar and so relieved and then he’s leaning into your space, dark hair loose and falling around you as he leans over, a gentle hand lightly pushing at your sternum to keep you from sitting up. “Easy, you shouldn’t move too fast even with Shoko’s healing.”

Suguru. Why is the sight of him so shocking, what happened- Memories of the mission come crashing down on you all at once. “Suguru…” your voice spills brokenly past your lips just like the tears down your cheeks. Your chest rises and falls rapidly and though it hurts, your body sore as you can ever remember it being you try to sit up, to get further into his space. 

He seems to realize what you’re doing and leans down further over you. His hands cup your face and he rests his forehead against yours. “Shhh, I know, just breathe. It’s okay, you’re okay. “

Under normal circumstances having him crowd into your space like this would have left you terribly flustered but not now. “It’s not okay though!” Your voice cracks. He gets what he wants though in the form of you staying down now that he’s close. He can feel you trembling like this. “We… the mission… We’re the only ones who..” You swallow hard. Despite the nerves in your arm’s protesting you raise them, shaking, to cover Suguru’s hands with your own. 

He squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head. “Not quite.” He’s glad that he at least can give you some good news. 

“What do you mean? I saw the bodies myself, Suguru.” you close your eyes and tears flick from your lashes onto his face. “I saw Riko! I saw Kuroi. I- I… fuck, Suguru I saw Satoru’s body. I cradled his hea-

Someone gently clears their throat in the doorway and Suguru pulls away from your face, the curtain of his hair lifting to reveal Satoru himself standing in the doorway to the infirmary. Suguru very carefully helps you sit up this time when you attempt it. He doesn’t think he's ever seen you look so stunned before. At least with him you’d never thought you’d seen his body, he imagined that made wrapping your mind around him being alive much easier. Especially knowing now that you’d held Satoru while thinking he was dead. “H-how? I- when I-”

Satoru takes three strides into the room and pulls a chair that had been pushed out beside the bed with him before plopping down next to you across from Suguru. You finally tear your eyes away from Satoru to glance back at Suguru and then back to Satoru when you confirm Suguru was looking where you had been, his face somber  but at least confirming he sees what you do and without any surprise. You begin to reach a hand toward him and Satoru takes it, holding your smaller hand in his. It’s warm and undeniably full of life as he squeezes your hand.

“How?” you swallow hard, fighting another wave of tears beginning to cloud your vision. “I held you, you were dead! There was no.. you weren’t breathing-” 

“I know.. And I can explain it I promise. Just try to calm down.” 

“Calm down? How can I calm down? I thought everyone died!” Your shaking intensifies, entirely overwhelmed. You should be relieved, you know that but instead your mind is left struggling to process everything.

“Both of you out. I thought seeing the two of you first thing may be too much.” Yaga was standing in the doorway, a severe look on his face. You weren’t aware of it but he’d already said his peace about the boys taking you along without permission. Given how the mission went he wasn’t as harsh as he could have been. You’d all been through enough. 

Suguru clenches his fists against his pants before getting up and Satoru doesn’t look any happier but releases your hand and gets up to follow. “W-wait-” Your voice comes out small and with fresh panic at seeing them leaving. 

They both look back at you and Suguru forces a smile. “We’ll be back later, promise.” And with that they push past Yaga who closes the door and goes to take Satoru’s seat. It probably takes at least an hour to get you calm enough to talk in a meaningful way but you get there. Exhausted, eyes red from crying, you look at the man who’d taken you in and been your guardian for the last two and half years. 

“I shouldn’t have let you stay on that mission. You were never meant to be in that situation.” He sits there, hands folded in front of him. 

“Wasn’t I though.. If not now, then later right? You told me that… that I'd see awful things.. That I'd see friends die if I became a sorcerer..” He wants to say something but he lets you continue, wants to know where your mind is going with this. “Afterall it’s only because of my potential use as a sorcerer you were able to take me in with the higher ups cutting through the red tape. Otherwise I'd still be in…” You wrinkle your nose and your eyebrows draw low when you think of your circumstances before. “I’d still choose this.” It pains you to say it but it's true. You draw your knees up to your chest and hug them, ignoring the way you middle protests with being scrunched up. You squeeze your eyes shut fighting back fresh tears, though Yaga is unsure if it’s from physical pain or emotional.

The large man’s heart breaks a little seeing you like that. It reminded him of when he’d found you. It had been an overseas trip to try and locate a foreign sorcerer that had once been affiliated with Jujutsu tech. Instead all he found was their grandchild in terrible circumstances. It was an extremely unorthodox situation but that’s what the jujutsu world was right? When he’d realized you’d inherited your grandparent’s technique he’d seen an opportunity to help and had taken it. Technically you’d ‘gone missing’ in official reports and had a new identity forged as a citizen in japan. Sometimes he wonders if he was giving you a worse life than you’d had before but that was a pretty low bar to try and dig under. 

“That doesn't mean you should rush to see the worst of what our world has to offer.” It pained him that you viewed yourself through the lens of how useful you thought you needed to be to justify being taken into a better home. That seeing hell was just the price that had to be paid. He thinks maybe he failed in a way since you were still thinking that way two and half years into your new life. 

“I’m not… “ You look at him over your blanket covered knees. You would struggle with the after effects of this mission for years if not the rest of your life. Even now that’s something you understood. Whenever you closed your eyes you saw the people you failed to save as well as Satoru. God you’d been so sure he was dead when you’d held him. Taking a shuddering breath you ask. “May I see them.. I think I’ll be okay.” 

“I think it’s better for you to rest at least until tomorrow.” 

“But-”

He rubs at his temples. “I won’t keep you from them. You will get to see them later but for now just do as I ask and rest.” He can tell from the look on your face that you want to argue and maybe you would if not for being so exhausted. You knew he was right about you needing rest. 

“Tomorrow for sure?”

He sighs. “Would you actually listen if I said no?” 

You crack the barest of smiles. “You’ve told me I'm a terrible liar. So no, I probably wouldn’t.”

He snorts. “And here I hoped Geto would at least be a positive influence.” He actually had, in ways both older boys had. You’d been getting more confident, coming out of your shell more than he’d seen you do in almost all the time he’d taken care of you. 

He makes sure you’re able to take care of yourself, waits to make sure you’re capable of at least getting to the bathroom on your own. It wouldn't do to leave without making sure you can actually get up if you needed something. Walking makes your insides throb but you’re able to manage. Once you’re settled in bed he takes his leave, closing the infirmary door behind him. Finally alone for the first time since waking up you take stock of your body, you were sore, arms aching but all put back in their proper place. That man had meant it when he’d said he’d cripple you. You were certain that without Shoko that would have been the outcome. You smooth your hands over your midsection. You only vaguely remember the impact of his fist compared to the stark memory of your arms being dislocated and broken. The bastard’s smug face as he’d made you look at him flashes in your mind. You don’t even know his name, only the pain that he’d caused. Was he still out there? Your hands start to tremble and you close your eyes and give your head a shake. You weren’t going to think about him right now.

You look around the moonlit room until your eyes land on the little side table next to the bed. On it is a glass of water along with your phone. You grab the device. It’s only got a five percent charge. It had been fully charged when you’d left the hotel the other morning and you wonder how long you’d been unconscious. At least since mid afternoon.. You check the date. “Ah. Over a day..” you murmur to yourself. Suddenly you really don’t care how tired you are, you’re not sure how long Suguru and Satoru have been waiting for you to get up since you’re unsure how long the both of them were down themselves but you decide it’s been long enough regardless. 

“Besides he never asked if I’d listen and rest tonight, just if I would tomorrow.” You may be bad at lying if directly asked something but a little lie by omission? You could do that. You’re about to at least attempt to get your dying little phone to text one of them, you’d probably only need to text one of them since they often stay with eachother, but your lil brick of a phone decides to flash you a picture of a battery and shut down right at that moment. Now perhaps you should have taken that as a sign to go back to bed but you were feeling stubborn and knew you wanted to see them sooner than later. 

___

The room is lit only by the movie playing in the background, casting shifting light over the faces of the two young men who perhaps had never been paying attention to it in the first place. Suguru sits against the headboard near obsessively checking his phone to see if maybe you’d text once Yaga finally left you alone. Crystal blue eyes peer up at him from where Satoru rest’s his head on his dark haired companion’s shoulder. 

“They may have actually wore themself back out and went to sleep, Suguru.” It was a bit strange seeing Suguru be the fidgety and impatient one out of the two of them. Perhaps Satoru was less eager to see you simply because of how panicked you’d gotten when you saw him. It made guilt twist up in his chest and he knew he’d have to answer a lot of questions if you were calm enough to ask. 

“I should just go back down there… “

“Suguru-”

“They were such a mangled mess when I found them. I just need to see them be whole and awake.” Suguru’s expression is pinched, pained really. 

Satoru is quiet for a moment, he knows all too well the condition you’d been in. Broken as easily as if you were a porcelain ball jointed doll. Then he blinks and sits up from Suguru’s shoulder and looks to the door of the room. “I don’t think you’ll need to go to them.” 

And with that there’s a soft knock at the door. Suguru nearly flings himself off the bed and almost trips in his haste to get to the door. When he opens it he sees you standing there, looking a bit startled, probably by how quickly he’d gotten to and flung open the door. His eye’s scan over you taking in the small beads of sweat on your forehead and your arm wrapped about your middle. You’re still clearly in some pain but came over here by yourself instead of calling one of them. His relief at seeing you is mixed with a bit of frustration. 

“___, what’re you doing walking around? You should have just texted me or Satoru-”

“I was going to but my phone died…” You glance away sheepishly and lean against the doorframe for support. “Still wanted to see you though, didn’t want to be alone all night.” You don’t meet his eyes as you speak and are caught unaware as he scoops you up. “Suguru?!” You squeak his name in surprise. 

He turns with you in his arms and pushes the door closed behind him with his foot before carrying you toward his bed. He’s about to tell Satoru to scoot over but he does it without being told and you’re gently placed in the middle of the bed. He follows moments after and you find yourself suddenly propped up against the pillows snug between the two of them, your admittedly still sluggish mind struggling to process the sudden closeness and you can feel some heat rising in your face. You’re very much aware that you've become the literal center of attention for the two of them. It doesn’t make you panic though like it did the last time you found yourself in a similar position in this room, and there’s no teasing in any of their actions as they somehow crowd further into your space. Though it still leaves you at a loss for words when Suguru slides down a bit so he can tuck his face into your neck and Satoru wraps an arm around your shoulders, his fingers resting on Suguru’s neck. You’ve been enveloped by the two of them, pulled into a precious and private place. 

It’s oddly quiet for the three of you, with only the sounds of your breathing, the low murmur of the tv and the beginnings of rain tapping at the window. You can really feel them though. Warm and alive. Suguru’s breath fanning over your neck, the sound of Satoru’s heart beating next to your ear. You swallow thickly. All three of you were really alive. You hadn’t lost them. You’re so lost in your thoughts that it surprises you when Satoru brushes a thumb over your cheek, wiping away a tear you hadn’t realized had escaped. You’d thought you’d already wrung yourself dry honestly. 

“Hey-” he begins, concern filling his uncovered eyes.

You shake your head. “No it’s,” you take a shaky breath and Suguru pulls back from your neck slightly so he can examine your face. “It’s a.. It’s a good cry. “ You reach up and rub roughly at your face. “You’re both really here.. I’d been so sure that you were both dead when that-” Another shaky breath and you cut yourself off. You don’t want to think about that bastard. Not right now. “I’m just so relieved you’re both still alive,” you breathe out, seeming to regain your composer.

The two of them share a look and without saying anything seem to agree on something, Suguru nodded to Satoru. “I was aware of everything, you know?”

You look at him wide eyed. “But how? I mean I’m still not even sure how you’re alive. You weren’t breathing when I got to you.” 

“Yeah it’s a lil hard to do that when one of your lungs get’s cut in half,” he tries for humor but notices how you blanche. Quieter he says, “Sorry.”  with the arm that’s not wrapped around your shoulders he reaches for one of your hands, when you don’t pull away he continues. “On the brink of death It finally clicked how to use reverse cursed technique. It was slow at first. Just enough to keep me from death. Then you showed up. It was comforting and I wanted to tell you I was still alive, to do anything in that moment to let you know.” 

The idea that he’d been alive and aware of you while you held him, his blood soaking into your clothes was making your mind reel. You open and close your mouth and when nothing comes out he speaks again. 

“My awareness wasn’t perfect. But I still knew what was going on.” Some anger creeps into his expression. “When he showed up and you drew your weapon I was screaming inside. Wondering what the hell you were doing. Fuck if Suguru and I couldn’t beat him why would you fight him? He was going to ignore you and leave.” His voice raises slightly and you flinch. 

“He’s not the only one wondering that you know. At first I thought maybe he’d decided to have a go at you just because he could and tried to rationalize that normally you’re smarter than that until Satoru told me what happened.” Suguru’s words stung but you knew neither of them were wrong. 

You stare down to where your hand is being held by Satoru and your other clutches your pant leg. “I know it was stupid,” you admit quietly. “The truth is I wasn’t really thinking at that point. With how the whole mission had gone sideways and I was trying to wrap my head around one of you being dead already and when that monster spoke to me I lost it. In my mind that meant both of you were dead.” You bring your free hand up and push your hair back from your face, tugging at it a little. 

“You almost died.” Suguru’s voice is quiet. “Shoko said If you’d gone much longer without healing you would have bled out internally.”  You wince, more at the underlying pain in Suguru’s voice than anything. 

Satoru looks away from you for the first time since this conversation began and looks at the rain streaked window. He was glad that Suguru at least hadn’t gotten a front seat to your beating like he had. The memory of the  sounds of your limbs breaking and your ear shattering scream make bile rise in his throat.  And while he really wished you hadn’t further provoked the man he’s not sure that bastard would have left you with just your arms wrecked even if you hadn’t spit in his face. Normally he would get a kick out of you getting feisty like that but in this situation it in all likelihood got you a good deal more hurt. The injuries to your arms wouldn’t have been lethal but the crushing blow to your stomach had been like you’d been hit by a truck but the impact had been focused entirely into the diameter of that man’s fist. He had no doubt you’d reinforced yourself with cursed energy otherwise there’s no way Suguru would have gotten to you in time and you might have actually had a hole through your stomach instead of your organs getting battered.

When you remain quiet, thinking over their words Suguru speaks again, drawing Satoru’s gaze back. “How do you think we would have felt if you’d died and we both survived? After we decided to bring you with us? Your death would have been on us.” He sits up so he can look at you more directly. 

You’d already admitted you hadn’t been thinking in the moment but that question really struck you. You hadn’t thought either of them were alive but he’s right, you’d been wrong in your assumption and had nearly died for it. Almost left them behind like you thought you had been.  

“You went into a frenzy because you thought we’d died right? Because you thought you lost us both and that feeling overwhelmed you?” Satoru questions you and glances away when you look toward him. “Neither of us wants to lose you either. So just…” He roughly runs a hand through his hair, making it spike out wildly. The anger that had pinched his expression fades and turns into something softer, his cheeks tingeing just a bit pink in the low light of the TV’s glow. “Keep yourself safe even if you don’t want to do it for yourself, do it for us. Even if you think one or both of us has died you need to keep living. Because what's the point if you’re not alive and happy?” 

Suguru chuckles and Satoru gives him a somewhat annoyed look, “What?”

“Nothing. You just put that very well. Almost sounds like you were making a confession for the both of us.” A smug sort of smile etches its way onto Suguru’s tired face, his first smile since what happened in the depths of Jujutsu tech. 

You’re glancing back and forth between the two of them with large eyes, gears turning in your head overriding some of the guilt that had been building. A confession..? The puzzle pieces begin to fall into place for you.  All the time spent training with you, the movie night, taking you on that mission even though they knew Yaga would be pissed at them, all the moments you’d shared with them leading up to going back to the school, your position now snug between the two of them-  You let go of Satoru’s hand and dip your head, covering your face with your hands. Okay maybe you’re a little stupid.

And that's it for part 5! I really hope you guys like it. And yes we're finally hitting the relationship part of things! If you find any errors please ignore them, I've gone over this so many times already to catch everything that I nearly went cross eyed.

@strawberrystepmom @icy-spicy @nanamikentoseyebags @gojoest @porridgesblog

[muddyorbsblr]

talking in your sleep pt 2

Summary: You wake up 14 hours after your Melatonin-aided much needed sleep and face the aftermath of your confession to Loki. A confession you believed was a dream.

Pairing: Loki x Reader (friends to lovers)

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: implied smut, Loki being hot (not sure if this needs to be a warning but it's there), mild angst (?) [let me know if i missed anything!]

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was that it was dark outside. You'd slept the day away. Maybe even more. But you felt rested, fully energized, ready to go back to your office and face the behemoth that was the security system of the Ten Rings.

Just as you were about to stand up and head back to said office, you vaguely remembered Tony's words about not wanting to see you in your office for the next seven days. That was when you noticed the next thing. This wasn't your home. You didn't even remember leaving the tower. But you did remember bits and pieces of a conversation between Loki and Natasha arguing about whose room you would sleep in.

"FRIDAY?" you called out into the dark empty space. 

"Yes, Miss Y/L/N?" the AI answered. 

"Could you tell me what day it is, how long I've been asleep, and then turn the lights on at 50%?" 

"Certainly, Miss Y/L/N. It's Friday, the 16th, and you were asleep for fourteen hours. Turning on lights at 50% brightness." As light slowly filled the room, you took note of your surroundings. The neatly organized shelves, the helmets hung on the walls, the emerald green bedspread that was an almost exact match to the clothes you were wearing.

You groaned. "I'm in Loki's room?" 

"Indeed you are, Miss Y/L/N. And I've been instructed by Mister Laufeyson to tell you to meet him at the kitchen when you wake. Will that be all?" 

"Yes, FRIDAY, that will be all. Thank you." You took a look around the room, trying to remember anything more than fleeting moments of the last two hours before you fell asleep, to no avail. So you decided instead to follow FRIDAY's words and make your way down to the kitchen to meet Loki. 

Once you reached the bottom of the stairs, you noticed that the tower was strangely quiet for a Friday night. "Lo?" you called out into the quiet space, your voice echoing from the walls.

"In here, darling," you heard him call out. When you walked into the kitchen, you had to catch yourself at the sight of him wearing only a pair of green silk pajama bottoms, a match to the sheets upstairs. You willed your eyes not to roam, not to appreciate his literal godly form, to keep them trained on his face. Big mistake, because once he turned around and his eyes met yours, a devilish smirk crossed his features and his eyes roamed your form. "You are quite the beguiling sight in my colors, dear Y/N. I may have to tell Romanoff she's not getting those clothes back." 

"You plan on keeping them for yourself?" you quipped, trying your best not to let his gaze affect you. But then he set the plate in his hand down and made his way over to you, crowding your space. 

"You have your wits about you again. That's good," he said in a low almost whisper. "You should tell her you're keeping this for yourself." His tone was almost authoritative, as if he wasn't giving you room to protest. You suddenly get flashbacks of him declaring that you would stay with him while you slept in that same tone. Except this time there was a softness to his words, like he was trying to wrap you in them, in his presence. 

It's like he's seducing me, you thought to yourself. But there's no way; you're being delusional, Y/N. Of course you were. He didn't see you that way. He never would. 

You struggled to compose yourself. "I thought you had a thing against people wearing your colors." 

You felt your heartbeat at your fingertips as you watched him raise his hand and slid his finger under and along the strap of your camisole. "Perhaps under the correct circumstances, I would be willing to share." And then he looked at you through his lashes and you could've sworn your heart stopped beating altogether. 

The way you saw it, there were two options. Keep the flirty banter going and see how far he'd take it, or stop it where it stood and play it off like a joke between friends. You didn't trust yourself not to get hurt with the first choice. "Pssh," you chuckled. "You know for a second there, Lo, I could've sworn you were flirting." And you gently nudged his hand away and sat down on a stool  by the kitchen island. "Where is everybody, by the way?" 

"They went out to one of Stark's many clubs to intoxicate themselves on inferior ale and gyrate all over strangers they will cease to remember by morning. Maximoff left that out for you and told me to make sure you ate it once you woke up." 

"Why didn't you go with them?" 

"Nothing in that image fit my rendition of an enjoyable time, darling. And there are far more important things to attend to." 

"Such as?"

"Ensuring that someone I care for is taken care of after she endangered herself the way she did this week." There was no mischief in his eyes as he said the words, as he stared into yours, like he was trying to see into your soul. "Y/N, swear to me you'll never be that reckless again. When you nearly fell earlier…" He seemed to fight back his sentiment.

You placed your hand over his. "I promise," you said softly. "I just forgot--"

"You cannot afford to forget these things, Y/N." His voice sounded almost desperate. Then he took a deep breath. "I don't want to live in a world bereft of you a day sooner than I absolutely have to. I do not wish to even contemplate that world, do you understand?" You had no words, no witty comebacks, no jokes, nothing. All you could do was nod as he held on to your free hand, returning your nod as he raised your joint hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. He then let go and motioned to the plate of pasta in front of you. "Eat, darling." 

You did your best to focus the next several minutes solely on finishing your plate, rather than allowing your mind to wander in the direction of the smoldering shirtless god standing by the counter pretending to leaf through a book, when in reality he was watching your every movement. 

Once you were finally done he ceased his charade and walked over to place himself behind your seat. You visibly stilled as you felt him reach from behind you to slide your plate over to the side, and then proceeding to lean over and rest his chin on your shoulder. 

"What’s up?" You did your best to sound casual. He wasn’t ever like this with you. Whatever this was. So to have him behaving like this now? It was jarring, that was for sure. 

"Did you know you talked in your sleep, dear Y/N?" Your breathing hitched as you both felt and heard his words, what with him having his lips so dangerously close to your ear. The effects he and that absolutely sinful voice of his had on you felt like they were magnified. Tenfold. 

You took a deep, slow breath, trying to find your footing, finally taking notice of how he’d placed his hands on the marble top, effectively trapping you between him and the kitchen counter. You let out a half-hearted chuckle. "Nice try, Lo. I know I don't." You made a motion as if to step off your seat, but his next motions kept you right where you were, as you watched his his forearms flex ever so slightly and he stepped even closer to you and you felt his chest pressing against your upper back. It was clear the message he was trying to send across to you. Don't move an inch.

"That may be so," he started speaking again. He let go of the island and proceeded to sweep your hair over your shoulder with one hand and wrapped his other arm loosely around your waist. "But you say the most interesting things when you're under the influence of that medication, in the moments before you succumbed to its full effects." 

Your blood ran cold as you got flashbacks of the most wonderful dream. You were laying in bed, in Loki's arms, as he asked you if you were his. And you told him you were and that you were defenseless against his perfection, that you fell in love with him. Such a damn shame you don't feel the same way. 

"That wasn't a dream," you whispered, barely even able to breathe properly as you felt his nose tracing along the length of your exposed neck. "You know." You were doing your best to choke back the sob that threatened to escape you. 

"I do." 

"I'm sorry." Your voice was barely audible. Any louder and you were sure to be a sobbing mess in his arms.

"What ever for, darling?" His words came out so softly, so lovingly, with just a hint of longing. But surely you were imagining it. Right? "You've done nothing wrong."

"I don't know," you whispered, on the verge of hysterics. "I just feel like I should be apologizing for something." And then another flashback. A dream – no, a memory – of you pressing your lips to his neck right before everything went black. Your breath hitched. "I'm sorry I kissed you."

"Don't be, my precious girl," he crooned. "I quite enjoyed it. The feel of your soft, luscious lips on my skin. It was as if the universe stopped; I wanted it to. I wanted that fleeting moment to go on for eternity." What? "The only thing I did not enjoy was you succumbing to slumber before I could return the favor." Oh, you were sure you stopped breathing now. Was he really saying what you think he was saying? "No matter. You're awake now."

You went near frigid in his hold as you felt him press his lips softly to your skin, and he let out an audible exhale that felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. If you thought he would stop at one, you were adorably naive.

He proceeded to press kiss after kiss to your skin, each getting less chaste, more frantic. You began to question if you were still dreaming, but feeling the edges of the stool you gripped so tightly in your hands digging into your palms told you you most definitely were not. This was real. This was all real. 

"Relax, darling," he whispered into your skin before pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your neck. You could've sworn your heart stopped beating the moment you felt his tongue flick against your skin. His hold on you tightened so slightly as he moved his lips to your jaw. "You have nothing to fear. You've done nothing wrong, my little mortal." His lips moved closer to yours, stopping at the corner of your mouth and pressing a kiss there. "All you've done is the impossible." 

"Which is?" you breathed out, surprised there was any air in your lungs at all after receiving this kind of attention from him. You never thought he would; you often forbid yourself to even dream it. You wouldn't dare, because even in your dreams where you were undoubtedly the best version of yourself, even there you never saw yourself worthy of him.

"I won't tell you until you relax, dear Y/N," he teased, his lips moving against your skin, so tantalizingly close to your lips. "Let go of the breath you're holding and lean in to me." 

"I'll fall." 

"You won't. I'm here. You're safe with me. You always have been." That did you in and finally you slowly felt yourself loosening your grip on your seat, exhaling and doing exactly what he asked, leaning against him. "Good girl," he murmured, pressing another kiss to the corner of your mouth, gently tilting your head back to rest on his shoulder. "All you've done is love me. As I've loved you." 

Before you could respond, he captured your lips with his in a kiss that was heated but held such restraint, as if he was still testing the waters with you. Your heart felt like it was soaring as you started to wrap your head around what was happening, as if a fire was ignited in you that warmed your entire body. 

When he pulled away from you, you immediately felt the loss, craving his kiss once more. If you'd thought you were intoxicated by being in his presence before, you were downright drunk on it now. Addicted, even. "Oh, my love. My darling Y/N. It seems one taste of you and I've become insatiable." The feeling's mutual, you thought to yourself, unable to form words. There was that word again. Love. He turned you around in your seat so that you were facing him. "Look at me." You tilted your head up to look into his steel blue eyes, your breath hitching as you saw all the emotions swimming in them. "I want you to say it. Say the words that made me whole. I want to gaze upon your ethereal perfection as you say it. Please, Y/N." 

You took a breath, and the words spilled out of you, as if you couldn't say them fast enough. "I love you, Loki Laufeyson." 

You watched as the brightest smile lit up his face before he leaned in to kiss you again. "I love you, Y/N Y/L/N." He lifted you into his arms and you wrapped your legs around him, as if by instinct. Like you were meant to do this. Made for it, even. "The only damned shame is that we failed to tell each other sooner. I could have had you so much sooner." 

He began to walk you back up the stairs when the elevator doors dinged and opened to reveal Tony and the rest of the team coming back. He took one look at the two of you and blurted out, "I don't even wanna know. I'll see you the week after next, Y/N." 

"Keep the clothes, Y/N," Natasha hollered. "Suits you better anyway." 

You couldn't be bothered to respond, not like you could anyway. Your lips were otherwise occupied. So you gave a half-hearted thumbs up and waved goodbye at the team watching what was transpiring from the common area. 

"Well it's about goddamn time," you heard Wilson boom from the doors. "So who had money on tonight?" 

"I did," you heard Wanda answer him. "I told you all to never bet against me, but none of you listened. And now I'm rich. Should I silence Loki's room?" You didn't hear the response. You didn't care.

You faintly heard a door closing before you felt your back hit the silken sheets of his bed. "I must remember to thank Stark for giving you a week away from your duties," he murmured as he pressed kisses to your jaw and neck. "We have an abundance of lost time to make up for, my love." 

"Everyone knows exactly what's happening right now," you gasped out, your filter going completely out the window once again.

He pressed a kiss above your heart before looking up at you through his lashes. "Does that bother you? That they know?" 

A devious smirk graced your lips as you coyly shook your head. "Not really, no." 

A/N: Does this still count as fluff? I don't know anymore lol

Taglist: @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @imalovernotahater @redbluekjw @lucylaufeyson3 @thomase1 @springdandelixn @ficitve-sl0th @mochie85 @laliceee @xorpsbane @gigglingtigger @silverfire475 @cabingrlandrandomcrap @vickie5446

[ashintheairlikesnow]

I know you have little time on your hands for writing atm but I might just sneak in here anyways to give input. Who knows maybe you have time some day :D

I remember you posting about this Au where Chris won‘t get saved and Branch throws him on the street when he‘s "too old" and Chris encounters Kauri and he brings him to Jake and it‘s much harder to recover from there on.

Can‘t stop thinking about it it made me so sad!

Maybe you can write a piece about them meeting this way sometime when you feel like it 👉👈🥺

CW: Aftermath of spice, some dubcon implications, brief internalized ableism, drug use

Kauri wakes in a pile of bodies, briefly content simply knowing that if anything is the opposite of being alone, it's this. He still aches in all the right places from last night, and stretches his arms above his head, arching his back. His eyes are closed.

Someone next to him mumbles and rolls over, rolls away. Mourning the loss of even one point of contact, Kauri sighs and sits up. His head hurts, but that's normal on a Sunday morning, especially when his Saturday nights had been so fun. Sober now, he knows it's time to dress and disappear into the daylight, off to find the next drink, the next pill, whatever will soothe the way even now, he feels hollow.

He makes it to the door before he realizes he isn't the only person awake this early.

A flash of blue is slipping out ahead of him, hunched over in clothes too big for his frame. The man's profile is oddly delicate, strikingly beautiful.

Kauri had a hazy knowledge of someone with blue hair the night before, his back against someone's shoulder, another man between his legs. Or had it been the other way around, had he been between some man's legs...? It's hard to remember details. Kauri had been between two men himself, never the same two men twice.

Man, last night was fun.

Still, yeah, he remembers the hair. And a vague recollection of a sweet smile and soft pleading. The way his hips had rolled riding someone, hands splayed out on a sweat-soaked chest, biting his lower lip with his eyes closed. Making noise like it was forced out of him, but it'd been... yeah.

It'd been a performance.

Kauri had figured he was probably a hooker called in for the fun, but... now he wonders.

Hookers don't stay overnight.

"Hey," He calls out, and hurries to catch him. "Hey, wait up." He grabs the man by his arm. "Wait-"

The man goes still. He's short, skinny, swimming in these clothes. His hair's dirty and dull with copper roots showing through. But he turns to look back, and his irises - at least what Kauri can see of them around the dilated pupils - are the brightest green that Kauri has ever seen.

He's also clearly still high. Or maybe high again.

He has pale freckles in a scatter across his cheeks and his nose. Kauri wonders if you could play connect-the-dots with them, make something, maybe just a constellation.

"... what?" The word leaves the man slowly, like he has to consciously think about it first. "They... they said I could... have more before I left. I... didn't steal." He hesitates. "Did I?"

There's a scar over one cheek, somebody cut him with a knife. Not too bad - just for show. Just to make the scar.

Kauri swallows, and puts on his brightest, friendliest smile. "No, no, you didn't. And even if you did, I wouldn't say anything to anybody. But, just. I didn't get to say much to you last night. We were busy, right?" He winks.

"No." The man's gaze never meets Kauri's own - it dances, shifts from looking past his left shoulder to somewhere over his head, down to the right. Eye contact comes in brief flickers, as if he can barely stand it. He smiles, but it isn't real. It's false and faint. "Busy... last night. Having fun."

"Yeah, uh, it was a good time."

The man hesitates. Then he turns away again, pulling himself free of Kauri's grip, rubbing at the place where Kauri's hand had been nervously. "Good," He murmurs, as if reminding himself. "A good time. I had... a good time. I w, wanted-... I wanted... this. Always..." He trails off.

Then he starts walking, as if he's forgotten Kauri was even there.

"Want this," He's muttering. He sways from side to side as he walks, then stops, then starts again. His hands rub constantly, compelled, against the seams of his jacket.

Kauri's intuition prickles like a physical touch to the back of his neck, the weight of a shock collar, and he moves fast to catch up. "Hey, uh, are you-... um... let me buy you some breakfast, yeah? I got, like, forty bucks to my name. That'll get us some food. You look like you could stand to eat more."

The man pauses, briefly, looking over in Kauri's general direction. His hands bury themselves into his pockets and he hunches himself so much he seems inches shorter than he really is. "... okay. You, um. Want, want-..." He winces. "Wait. Silence is better than stammering, silence is better than stammering," He whispers, a recitation, and Kauri swallows as his spine chills from the nape of his neck down to the small of his back, all at once.

He's heard that chant before.

"... you're one of us," Kauri says, and it isn't a question. As soon as the other man tenses, he has his wrist up, looking side to side to make sure they're alone before he snaps open the leather bracelet and shows his barcode.

The man goes very still. Green eyes wander over the sight, and then he pulls his sleeve up to show his own. "WRU, Facility 001, Romantic 223499."

It's irresistible. Kauri hears another pet give theirs, he has to give his, too. He can all but feel his handler breathing down his neck waiting for it. "Right. Facility 001, Romantic 645898. But, uh. I'm Kauri." He tries for his bright smile again, but the other man doesn't return it. "What's your name? What do people call you?"

The man swallows. Then, he offers quietly, "My Sir... called me Baldur."

[oh-saints]

sweetest devotion (prologue)

it was only supposed to be another one night fling for mason. being married was never the aftermath he'd imagined himself to be, not when he's nothing but proud of his hit-and-run reputation around the town.

playboy!mason mount x princess!oc

word count: 1.5k

tw: as mentioned in the masterlist only

note: i know, i know. i'm not supposed to make this rabbit a bad guy but the tatler interview still rang well in my ears. and he won this poll anyway, so here it is. and the country name's taken from ana huang's twisted series teheeee but as usual, i happen to write at dawn so this is yet to be beta-read.

tag list: @mehrmonga who'd told me to do it anyway <3 (but lemme know if you wanna be added!)

this series' masterlist here part 1 here! >>

it all happened so fast.

as fast as the sound of his pen carving the cursive of his signature against the papers. as fast as the sound of mason mount giving what felt like his entire life away to a bunch of papers.

mason mount was only supposed to find another rebound to pale his heartache from being left behind by his girlfriend. he was only supposed to find another rebound to fuck before deserting them like a used piece of clothing that was covering his body against the cold of the night, and against the cold of his frozen heart.

he was only supposed to find another rebound to numb his recurring pain, just like a dozen of times before.

he thought he did exactly that in the morning, his modus operandi. and she never contacted him back either, despite knowing where to reach him. they were still following one another in Instagram anyway.

so of course, he didn’t expect anything drastic when the owner of the club he loves asked for his presence on one fine day at the cobham.

however, as he stepped inside the four walls made of glass, he certainly didn’t know what to make of himself. hell, he could guarantee any common living thing that they’d have no clue what to do when it was you and the king of eldorra himself.

a seething king of eldorra, mason should rather add.

the monarch didn’t waste a single breath as soon as the owner stepped out of the room for some privacy. “my daughter’s pregnant, mr. mount, and it’s yours.”

“I’m sorry?” mason had to mask his nervousness behind the pathetic excuse of a laughter. “I’m actually not following.”

“of course you are not,” the king sat up straighter, his posture telling everyone he wasn’t mad, except his eyes blaring fire so big it could burn down the amazon. “you don’t keep track of your one night stands, after all.”

if that was declan, mason would’ve heeded no mind. but coming from the man before him… mason couldn’t lie if that comment didn’t place a deep claw on his pride.

“father…”

“I suppose you might not remember her,” and mason couldn’t fault the king flaring his nostrils at each words spat. mason would probably be acting the same way, had this involved his own daughter. “you met her at a nightclub in london before you took her to your home and bed her.”

it didn’t escape mason, the disgust slipped into the last two words of the king’s sentence.

you’d be surprised to hear your daughter’s reaction to my cock was everything but disgust, mason smirked inwardly as he scanned the distinctive face of the said daughter. who, by the way, sported a faint hint of displeasure—at and of what, he didn’t know. he could only pray she wasn’t thrilled about the whole ordeal, so he could make a pity party out of them both.

of course, he remembered her—serena, final year student in king’s collage. he remembered her because no one as smart as her had pulled the same face card, and he was drawn in by the classic beauty she sported in her face and the royal elegance she exuded before he could help himself.

he remembered her because in bed, she was a beast long waiting for someone to wake her up. and mason loved nothing more than a duality striking on and off the bed.

“father, I appreciate if you grant us some space,” contrary to the faint warning she gave earlier, she was firm—rather stern, even—this time. “I’m sure it’s not an easy news for him either.”

the king spared his daughter a momentary glance before he stood up from his seat, buttoning the lapels of his suit back to its immaculate place. all while throwing lasers at mason’s way. if the footballer didn’t have his life at stake, he’d definitely succumb to the pressure.

there was a reason why the salt-and-paper man was the king, after all.

as soon as the powerful man went out of sight, mason shot his own daggers. “how are you so sure it’s mine?”

mason was only met by the profound proof that she was the king’s daughter and the princess. the woman in black slid a manila envelope towards his way ever so calm—as if the tension around them was as high as spending a mere summer together—without compromising his personal space. “your DNA test, as well as your contract.”

“contract?”

now, mason didn’t see this one coming.

“my father expects nothing less than you to man up and marry me,” shit, mason knew where this was heading. “it’s actually a crime in my country to be pregnant out of wedlock. combine that with the fact that you accidentally knocked up a princess, you can imagine the mess you’re about to ensue in my country,”

despite knowing the direction of this conversation, mason’s heart still dropped at the sight of marriage contract written in big, fat bold letters.

“however, I understand you have another life outside the well-being of your… child and mine,” if this wasn’t a dire situation in need of immediate attention, he’d praise her for how well she chose her words to simplify matters at hand. “so I took the liberty to construct this agreement so it will benefit us two. feel free to add your own terms.”

“what do you get out of this… arrangement?”

“I get to live another day, which means your child does too,” right, a punishable crime in the eyes of eldorran law. “and I get to provide only the best for my child. bar the father, of course, should you choose to walk away from the child’s life after this contract ends.”

dagnabit, she’d covered that part too under the agreement. she certainly had thoroughly thought about this. “is this what you both are planning from the beginning?”

“my father knows nothing of this existence and I wish to remain that way,” that’d explain why she asked for privacy for both of them, and somehow that relieved some parts of mason. “except for our lawyers, it’s only going to be between us until the end—whichever end may be—so I need you to put on some excellent acting when needed.”

rights and obligations… dang, mason should have a day off to discern all this. mason inwardly cursed himself for putting himself through this, all rooting from letting himself swayed and distracted by her sultry voice that he forgot to tap before he dabbed. wait, did I have a way out of this…

nope.

mason was raised better than to desert his own flesh and blood. and he was also certainly raised better than to have the mother of his child to be punished severely on her own when the child was obviously a joint creation of them both.

“we’ll figure out the nitty-gritty along the way,” sensing the footballer was weighing his thoughts, the princess stood up this time, reaching for her purse along the way. “after all, time is what we’re going to have until deaths do us part.”

mason could feel the tip of his mouth curving up slightly—credits when it’s due.

“have a thorough look at them and give me your answer when you’re ready. for now I will tell my father that you’re figuring out how to break the news to your kin first before saying yes.”

but before mason could bid her goodbye, the woman fourth in the throne line of eldorra had closed the mahogany door shut behind her, leaving mason alone dealing with the aftermaths of his rendezvous immediately and the tears of the girlfriend he recently rekindled later into the night.

“I promise you we can be together again, my love,” mason repeated those words like a mantra, in hope to soothe the heartbreaks both he and his girlfriend were respectively having inside. in hope it could build a foundation, a purpose for him to truck through a year of hell with a stranger he never dreamt of having to share his ultimate dream with. “I promise you that. we’ll figure it out meanwhile, okay?”

but mason didn’t get to hear whatever it was that came out of his ex’s mouth as a reply, as he took the hardest steps away from his girlfriend’s house. and he couldn’t seem to be able to recall them now, especially when the priest standing before him asked him the million-dollar question in front of thousands of people important for the existence of the eldorran kingdom.

“do you, mason mount, take serena, princess of eldorra, to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

his wife.

the woman standing in front of him, who was staring back at him with a pair of eyes he couldn’t read at all. the woman standing in front of him, who actually enticed a bit of fear in him for such uncomprehensive orbs she owned.

the woman standing in front of him, whom everyone dubbed as calm beauty like her name, was to be his wife.

the woman standing in front of him, who he had no idea about aside from her name and her reputation of a princess from a conservative country, was to be his wife.

all because a stupid, drunken one-night stint.

he let out a sigh that might be perceived as letting of the nervous steam. just when he wanted to organise his life and start fresh…

“I do.”

well, at least the princess was an exquisite sight to wake up to every day.