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just saying... if they didn't want us to ship wanderlumi, then why did they make the ballerina in the Wanderer: Ashes retelling of The Steadfast Tin Soldier look like Lumine hmm????
#scaralumi#wanderlumi#scaramouche#genshin wanderer#wanlumi#lumine#not to mention that in the original fairytale the thing that makes the tin solider fall in love with the ballerina#is that he's missing a leg and has always felt its loss#but then he sees the ballerina on one leg too#and feels a kinship with her#he feels understood for the first time#and like maybe there's a place he could belong#f; genshin
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as it was ; suguru geto.
pairing suguru geto x f!reader word count 4.2k synopsis suguru comes back, only to find that you've been waiting and wanting this whole entire time. content contains modern no curses!au, gojo's sister!reader, brother's best friend, creampie, pet names (good girl, baby), most of the fic is geto's introspection, possessive sex, mutual pining/longing author’s notes im not even horny for geto like that, but i wanted to write angsty smut abt spreading ur legs for a guy that left u & who else is better for this than geto <3
First words are always a bit tricky to get right, especially whenever he has to take into account that he essentially ghosted you a couple of years ago, after taking your virginity no less, and now he’s back in the godforsaken city he swore he was never coming back to, and he’s just at a loss about what to say and more importantly, how to say it.
He supposes an apology, for starters, would be a good first move. And maybe it would be, could be, should be, if only he wasn’t him and you weren’t you, and the two of you were not something so confusing and intricate that it’s hard to put into words and harder still to describe with emotions. The two of you are something raw and painful, both of you taking turns playing both sadist and masochist.
Even to himself, the extent of your relationship sounds twisted, but there was always an underlying purity to it, something that justified its existence. To this day, Suguru Geto is certain that you’re the only person who ever loved him for him, with a love so pure and just that he tries to hide it from everyone else before they can get their filthy hands on it and taint it, twist it into something it’s not.
Sorry I left won’t cut it, and Geto doesn’t even bother trying to come up with any other variations of apology because it’s not necessarily your forgiveness that he’s come back for. The opportunity to say “I’m sorry” and have it actually mean something has long since passed. All that’s left to say is the truth for why he left, which for some odd reason, seems even harder to do than his original disappearing act.
I missed you — that’s a slight improvement. It’s the truth, if not an understatement of it. He doesn’t regret leaving Tokyo, he just regrets leaving you. Which he could say, if you would actually open the door to face him.
He figures it’s what he deserves. He deserves worse, if he’s going to be entirely honest. He deserves a slap to the face, or a kick to his balls, or for you to tell him that you hate him, that you never want to see him ever again.
He knocks on your apartment door, harder this time, as if it’s something urgent. And maybe it is. He’s felt more like himself than he ever has after moving, but the solitude of the countryside got boring soon after, leaving him only with the ghosts from his past to keep him company. He thinks if he doesn’t see you, in the flesh, he might actually go insane.
He knocks again, only to be met with more silence and a door that’s starting to become more of a familiar sight than he would like. Fuck, what is he even doing? Showing up here was a bad idea to begin with, and it’s only seemingly getting worse by every agonizing second that ticks by. Even if you do open the door, there’s always the chance that you won’t let him get a single word in — that’d be the smart choice, anyway.
And you’re a bright girl, don’t get him wrong. Something about the Gojo bloodline makes your family incapable of producing anything less than prodigal sons and daughters. If you’re not proof of this fact, there’s your older brother.
Yet another reason why showing up here is such a shitty plan. Satoru will catch wind of his visit, and when he does, he’ll show no restraint in showing Suguru what all of his private boxing lessons are good for. A broken nose and missing tooth would be a fair exchange to see you for at least a second, though. A tradeoff that he doesn’t need to debate on.
You have to leave your apartment eventually. Suguru dances with the idea of just making camp outside your door and waiting for your stubbornness to fizzle out. It’ll be embarrassing, and your neighbors will surely have something to say about it, but it would be well worth it.
He hears the ding! of the elevator opening and human reflex causes his head to turn at the sound of the noise.
Oh.
The world becomes contradictory at this very moment. The air suddenly stills, but the atmosphere itself seems to come alive at the same time. Stagnant air, bursting with electricity and something awe-inspiring. Everything seems to slow down, but suddenly he’s acutely aware of just how alarmingly fast his heart is beating. It’s been a while since he’s last seen you, not even bothering to check up on your social media because he knows one DM from you would have him crossing the ocean to be back by your side.
The reason why you weren’t answering your door was simply because you weren’t even home. Relief floods his body, makes him less tense, only for him to stiffen up once more whenever his eyes trail over to the warm body awfully close to you.
Or maybe it’s the other way around, since you’re the one clinging onto him.
You and Kento Nanami both look like you two have seen a ghost, and all things considered, you wouldn’t be wrong.
“What are you doing here?” You’re the first to speak, with Nanami’s arm wrapped protectively around your waist, and it’s this closeness that’s the only thing Suguru finds himself able to focus on. It’s been years. He shouldn’t feel this way. You’re free to do whatever you want with whoever you want. It’s your life. He’s the one that chose to walk out of it, anyway.
“I just wanted to talk,” he answers. Which isn’t a lie. He wanted to talk. He wanted to fight and make up and fuck your brains out and beg for forgiveness and cook you breakfast in the morning and warm your bed, amongst other things, too. But, he figures the condensed version of his list will do, especially considering that three’s a crowd, and most of his itinerary was for your ears only. “Did I come at a bad time?”
You bite your bottom lip, slowly removing yourself from Nanami’s grip. Nanami looks at you first, concern evident in his warm eyes, eyes that you wish were just a bit darker and colder, so that they would be the ones you’re so accustomed to drowning in.
You like Nanami well enough. He’s kind and looks out for you, and sometimes you even consider making a move on him first since he’s too much of a gentleman to cross any boundaries. Then again, you don’t think Nanami sees you as anything more than a little sister, and the last time you fucked one of your brother’s best friends…
It’s why you just give Nanami a smile, one that tells him that you’ve got this under control. His facial expression doesn’t give any indication of what he’s thinking, but the glare he sends Suguru’s way says enough.
Suguru can appreciate the fierce protectiveness Nanami has towards you, but it doesn’t mean he likes it. Especially when it’s Suguru that’s considered to be the threat.
You move to unlock your door once Nanami makes his reluctant exit, and when you enter your apartment, you conveniently don’t shut the door. Suguru trails behind you.
You turn on the lights, your living room and kitchen blending together in an open-floor plan, bathed in the stark, white lights hanging from your high ceilings. Your apartment, at least what Suguru can see of it, is tastefully decorated. Courtesy of your mother, he’s sure. He would ask about her, ask how she’s doing, but he figures now’s just not the right timing.
It doesn’t seem to be the right timing for anything he wants to say. He wants to mention that he’s thought about you, thought about reaching out — sometimes to explain himself, and other times just to discuss the mundane aspects of life — but he thinks that would be even worse than apologizing. It would be cruel of him to dangle this information in your face, haunt you with the knowledge that all this time, he’s truly been avoiding you. Knowing you, you would have questioned him on why he didn’t bother reaching out, and he would have been stuck admitting that it’s simply because he was too scared that you wouldn’t answer.
“Want a drink?” You ask him, back facing him as you peer into your fridge. He catches a glimpse of shiny glass bottles, water bottled in Europe and with the optimal pH balance, he’s certain of it. His throat feels a bit dry, but he tells you no.
“I drank enough water on the drive up here,” he tells you, which again, isn’t a lie. Suguru feels a bit pleased with himself, even if it is a bit narcissistic of himself for expecting a pat on the back for doing something so simple. He supposes it’s just because he’s gotten so used to never being honest with himself — or others, for that matter — so his current streak for telling the truth seems like something to celebrate.
“I didn't drink enough.” You say, and he can’t tell if it’s alcohol you’re talking about or water. You’re a lightweight; yet another trait that seems to be passed down the Gojo family. That explains Nanami escorting you home, then.
“Aren’t you going to ask how I found you?” Suguru helps himself to taking a seat on the white couch in your living room. Because there’s no walls separating the two different spaces, he can still look at you from this position as you rest your elbows on your kitchen’s island, as if needing the support.
“If you wanted me to know, you’d let me know.” It’s the way you say it that reveals that this comment isn’t made just in reply to his current question, but for everything else Suguru was going to follow it with. Don’t you want to know where I went? Don’t you want to know why I left?
It’s amazing what humans are capable of. Nearly six years since the two of you have lost contact — since Suguru broke all contact — and yet, you can still read him just as well as he can read you. You see him for what he is, not whatever mask he wants to disguise himself with, and it’s scary, he thinks. Scary to be seen by someone. And nice. It’s nice to have someone know you’re a monster and still not run away.
He’s not quite sure what that says about you.
“It’s a bit of a funny story.” He says, trying to steer this conversation to a more lighthearted tone even though the two of you are nowhere close to feeling light and the jury’s still out on whether or not Suguru Geto has a heart. “You don’t need the reminder, but don’t ever tell Mei Mei a secret you want to keep.”
The mention of your shared friend — if Mei Mei can even be considered one — makes the corners of your pretty mouth tilt upward. Mei Mei was born with a silver spoon, but the running joke is that it wasn’t in her mouth because she bartered with the doctor and blackmailed him into giving her a gold one. If you have the funds, Mei Mei has the information you’re looking for.
She’s the only number Suguru saved in his phone contacts, and it’s only because he knew that if he needed anyone else’s number, Mei Mei would readily give it after her Venmo request goes through.
“Of course she would tell you my address.” You say, but you don’t sound upset at all. Just amused, like this whole situation is something endearing, and you don’t harbor any ill feelings towards either of them, even though both Suguru and Mei Mei technically violated your trust. Suguru more so than Mei Mei, but, well, semantics.
“Aren’t you mad?��� The “at me” is unspoken.
“Mei Mei is a free spirit.” It’s a joke, and Suguru makes a sound from his throat that resembles a laugh. Mei Mei may do whatever she wants, but nothing about her comes free.
He knows you know what he was actually asking. He’s been trying to gauge your reaction to everything he says, trying to see if you hate his guts or not.
“I missed you.” You tell him suddenly, and while he’s imagined those words coming out of your mouth, it still shakes him up a bit. It’s hard constantly posturing as if he’s cool and collected, nothing ever bothering him, his body and expression never betraying him. But it’s his heart that gives him away, and it’s heart that you hold, and no matter what face he puts on, he knows that you’ll know what the words he won’t say are.
“Don’t apologize.” You continue, closing the distance between you two and opting to take a seat next to him. There’s about six inches of space separating you two. The distance shapeshifts in his mind, sometimes becoming mere millimeters and sometimes feeling more like there’s an ocean between you both.
The sorry was on the tip of his tongue and it traveled all the way there from his heart. It would be a waste of a journey for him to not say it, but he’s certain the apology would do more harm than good, even if it is genuine.
Suguru stands out against the stark white of your apartment. Your mom likes the aesthetic of it, and since it’s your parents’ money, you merely shrugged and let her do whatever she wanted. In his black pants and black sweatshirt, he looks almost out of place in your home.
The thought that he doesn’t belong makes your heart hurt more than the burn of the alcohol from tonight going down your throat.
You don’t waste time wondering where Suguru went because for all intents and purposes, you never even knew where he came from to begin with. You knew him since you were children; your favorite out of all your brother’s friends because it was always Suguru who let you tag along and trail behind them. No one really knows much about Suguru’s life, his past, present, and future all a big blur to anyone but himself. From the way he slowly turns to face you, dark eyes meeting yours, you start to think of the possibility that maybe not even Suguru is an open book with himself.
Suguru looks like a shadow, standing out from the brightness of everything that is surrounding him in your living room. You want to ask him the questions that plague your mind ever since he’s been gone, but you don’t, because you’re scared he is a shadow. One wrong move, and he just disappears from your grasp once again.
There are the hard-hitting questions, of course. The ones that search for why he left and why he told no one and why he didn’t bother taking you. Then there are the gentler ones that would still require him to rip himself open and bare himself to you, things like how’s your new place and meet anyone interesting? You feel his gaze travel from your eyes to the slope of your nose and the apples of your cheek, downward to your lips. The intensity of his stare makes you nervously lick your lips, a tiny, quick action, but his eyes greedily take in the sight of the tip of your pink tongue casually making an appearance, only to retreat behind your pretty pink, glossed lips.
“Are you mad that I came back?” Suguru finds himself taking the role of interviewer, since it’s evident to the two of you that you know better than to bother asking him any questions. He feels like you’re treating him a bit like a stray cat, all cautious and scared of provoking him or forcing him to run away. He wants to tell you that this is not the case and that he actually plans on staying this time around, but he hasn’t entirely convinced himself yet, so he’s not going to break your heart with any more empty promises.
“No. Like I said, I missed you.” He wants to be able to blame your honesty on account of you being drunk, but he knows that you’ve just always been honest to a fault.
“You shouldn’t.” He tells you this, and you scoff. Probably because Suguru is the last person who should be giving any sort of life advice.
“Guess what I’m thinking.” You say, and Suguru feels something come alive from within, like he’s been frozen for the past six years, and the more he gets to bask in the warmth of your presence, the more he starts to defrost. There’s not a single hint of anger or malice in your tone, just the familiar, lighthearted, girlish tone of yours.
“That you think I’m a creep and want me to get the hell out.”
You frown, rolling your eyes, tucking your feet beneath you to get more comfortable on the couch.
“I’m thinking about that last time you told me I shouldn’t be doing something.” There’s a gleam in your bright eyes that clearly spells out desire, and Suguru is very, very close to defrosting. In fact, there’s a heat that’s beginning to settle deep in him, and maybe he should know better than to indulge in it, but it’s been years, and you are sitting here in front of him, pretty and fresh, and his hindbrain takes the driver’s seat.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But he does know, and he knows that you know that he knows, just as you seemingly know everything about him. Maybe not about his childhood — or lack, thereof — or what he’s been up to, but you know the important stuff. The things that make him tick and all the words he fails to say. Three words. Three words that he doesn’t think he’ll ever muster enough courage to say to you, but from the look in your eyes, you already know.
“I’ll jog your memory.”
And suddenly, your lips are pressed against his. You’re kissing him, and like the lovesick fool he is, he’s kissing you back. It’s pure muscle memory, maybe even animal instinct. He thought that leaving Tokyo was the right thing to do, and for the most part, it was, but with your lips perfectly melding with his own, he thinks that leaving was stupid.
Making out is such a juvenile ordeal, but he relishes in it because Suguru feels like he’s spent most of his youth trying to outrun it, and now he’s trying to take advantage of what his boyhood should have consisted of. The kisses are now bordering on sloppy and hazy, and somehow, you end up straddling his lap. He’s hard, and he should be embarrassed at popping a boner just from wet kisses, but it’s you. You have an effect on him that no one else does. His Achilles. The one weakness only he can feel.
Suguru knows that he is not a good person because a good person doesn’t go behind their best friend’s back and fucks their little sister. He had told, thirty minutes before introducing you to the feeling of his cock stretching you out, that the two of you shouldn’t be doing that. Suguru knows that he is not a good person because he cannot be any happier at the fact that history has a funny way of repeating itself. Six years later, and the two of you are back in a similar position.
You’re starting to rut against him, your dress riding up your thighs and exposing more of your skin to him. Suguru helps himself to handfuls of your soft flesh, squeezing in a manner that can’t be defined as gentle, but he loves how you take him as he is without any sort of complaint. All you do is let out a low moan, your pantyclad pussy grinding against his equally clothed bulge.
Your movements are a bit desperate, frenzied. You’re getting lost in pleasure already, and he hasn’t even done much to elicit such a reaction. The idea that only he can get you this riled up with doing so little makes him impossibly harder, and he looks down, realizing that you’re so soaked, your panties are practically translucent.
The two of you have the option of taking things slow, but neither of you want to do that. When you spend some time starving, you don’t savor the meal, you scarf it down.
That’s what the two of you are — hungry, greedy — as you both hastily strip as much clothing as you can bear to spend time getting out of. Your minidress is tossed carelessly on the living room floor, and Suguru can only bother with unzipping his pants and pushing down his briefs just enough to free his cock.
The intrusion of the tip of his cock entering your wet, needy cunt is less of an intrusion and instead akin to something rightfully returning to where it belongs. Your hands are tangled in his hair, and he relishes this feeling. This wholeness, this concept of being complete.
The inviting warmth of your pussy makes him want to cum right on the spot, but he can’t waste it. He’s spent years pining after you, missing you, and he wants you to feel like the time apart had been worth it.
“I missed you.” This time it’s him who makes the admittance. You tighten up at this confession, and it evokes a low groan from him, almost as if you had forced the sound to come from all the way down his throat.
“I know.” You gasp out, not able to speak clearly with how deep Suguru is hitting. Your living room is filled with the wet clicks and slaps of skin against skin, your juices coating his cock every time he pulls out.
The vein on the underside of his cock rubs against your walls, and the slight curve of it enables him to hit that gummy spot inside of you that has you seeing stars. You’ve never given much thought to cocks, but you know that Suguru’s is the prettiest of them all.
“Tell me you’re mine.” He grunts out, lips brushing against the soft skin of your neck before biting down; gentle enough not to draw blood, sharp enough to still leave a mark. You rock against him, hips moving in tandem with his thrusts, the steady hum of pleasure continuously building up in your lower belly. You are dizzy with pleasure; blanketed in it, being spoon fed it.
He doesn’t need you to say it to know it’s true, but you moan it out anyway, both to appease him and because there’s a sort of pride in knowing that you belong to him.
“I’m yours. I belong to you.” The words are separated, punctuated, by the little gasps for air you give out because with every word, he thrusts up even harder, hitting that special spot that will have you cumming all over him, making a mess.
“Yeah?” It comes out sounding like a shaky breath, and he’s close, you know it, you can feel it.
Calloused pads belonging to fingers much larger than yours are being pressed against your clit. You’re soaked, and the dryness of his hands combining with your overall slickness gives way to delicious friction that has you cumming with his name as a broken moan filtering through your swollen lips.
“That’s it, baby. Good girl. Good fucking girl.” He mutters, relishing in the way your walls tighten, spasm, clenching and unclenching sporadically as your body loses its energy and you press yourself up against his chest.
He follows after just a few more sloppy thrusts, the last one forcing himself as deep inside of you as possible. His cum is hot and thick, and it’s filling you to the brim. If he pulls out now, it’ll flood out of you, and the thought is both sad and hot at the same time. You want his cum inside of you, to serve as a reminder that this is real, that he’s real.
But seeing the physicality of him staking his claim, white seed dripping out of you, turns you on. Him, too, with the look of fascination and boyish wonder he has in his eyes as he stares at how the two of you are connected.
Before he can bother with confirming a round two, a sharp knock on the door has the two of you comically jumping a bit in surprise, both of you glancing at the door and then at each other.
“[Name], I know you’re in there!” You freeze.
Satoru.
Suguru wants to try to calm you down, whisper to you that everything’s going to be fine, but the anger laced in his best friend’s — former best friend’s — voice is enough to make him freeze up, too. Not just his icy tone, but what he says.
“I know you’re back, too, Suguru.”
#suguru geto x reader#suguru geto x you#geto suguru x reader#suguru geto smut#geto suguru smut#one shot#jjk x reader#jjk smut#angst#drabble#imagine
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But what happened to Ingo that he got al bloody??? Was he attacked by something??? By someone??? And why was Elesa alone on the last panel, where Emmet go? To sleep maybe? To look for his brother yet again somewhere? Does Ingo has memory loss or he does not? If he does, does he remember everything when he gets back? And forget about the adventure he just had? How much time was he missing? He is still all bloody and his leg is still not looking great so I'd say not very much?? His leg is looking awfull I love it.
(Post in question)
XDD I'll take this ask as an opportunity to go into much more detail on the story and answer all your questions!
So for starters, in my AU The Wilds isn't some far off island as its seems to be in the game. My version of The Wilds is 100s upon 100s of acers of land somewhere on the far far range.
Also, Elesa has her own ranch separate from the twins. She has a big lab on her ranch with welding equipment and tools and what not.
ANYWAYS! So Ingo and Emmet had been out exploring when they happened upon The Wilds. Excited to see this uncharted land, they charged right in. They explored together to start, but at some point they split up. Neither of them really even remember why they split.. they both regret separating looking back..
Ingo found a big open field and began walking across it. considering there was literally nothing ahead of him he felt confident to take out his Rotom and type away on it while walking.
Suddenly he fell into a big gaping hole in the middle of the field. Looking at his Rotom he didn't see it coming..
He tumbled down several feet and crashed into the cave floor. The result was a mild concussion, blood pouring from his forehead and a nasty sprained ankle..
He laid there unconscious for a few minutes before waking up dazed and confused. Looking ahead of him he saw a dim light. So he just.. instinctively crawled towards it.
It turns out that dim light was an old teleporter that led him miles and miles into The Wilds. The teleporter deactivated behind him.
About an hour passed when Emmet started look for Ingo. When he couldn't find him right away he tracked him on his Rotom. Following the signal he found a hole in the ground leading to the enormous cave..
Carefully making his way down the hole he found Ingo's abandoned Rotom, a trail of blood leading to an old broken teleporter.. but no Ingo.
It was pretty clear what had happened. Ingo had gone through the teleporter. But it was deactivated so he couldn't follow him.
He called Elesa in a panic, and Elesa told him to bring the teleporter to her ranch. There she had welding supplies and tools to hopefully fix the old teleporter and bring Ingo home. Or maybe go through it themselves and find him..
While Elesa worked on the teleporter, Emmet still had a ranch to maintain and slimes to feed. At the moment there wasn't much else he could do to help in finding Ingo anyways.. So he went back to his ranch and maintaining it.
Now its at this point I should talk about Celebi.
I had this idea that Celebi is this mischievous slime that lives in The Moss Blanket. Ingo and Emmet have become obsessed with trying to capture this slime so that they can study it. Though this slime always escapes somehow. After months of failing to capture it, this cat and mouse routine has turned into a game for both parties.
Celebi will appear and temp the brothers into chasing after her. The dinguses always give in and make chase, only to tire themselves out and end up empty handed.
This routine has become so casual that there have been somedays where they go to The Moss Blanket and Celebi appears. The boys will shake their heads. "Sorry, no games today. We actually have chores to do.." Celebi will pout but then confidently approach them and help them with their chores and allow them to pet her. The next time they visit it'll be back to trying to catch her and her always slipping away. XD
So with that context, it had been about 3 days or so since Ingos disappearance. Emmet was back at his ranch waiting for any good news from Elesa.. At some point he had to stop by The Moss Blanket for his usual chores and to empty him and Ingos extractors.
Emmet had tried to stay calm through all this. He tried to tell himself that Ingo would be fine. he was tough, capable. Surly he would be fine.. though being in The Moss Blanket.. perhaps he saw something that reminded him of Ingo. And just thinking about how his brother was bleeding, and all alone out there..
It was just too much. He was so worried about Ingo and he missed him so much.. Emmet fell to his knees and started crying.
Celebi heard the crying and came to investigate. Only to find.. just one of the brothers.?
Celebi tried to comfort Emmet by nuzzling up against his arm. It helped some and he was able to compose himself.
"Sorry,, no games today.. Ingo's not here... maybe some other day.."
Celebi wouldn't leave his side though. Emmet couldn't help it and kind'a vented the situation to Celebi, even though he thought she couldn't understand him.
He talked about this new land they discovered. He talked about how he turned away for only a minute.. and then Ingo was gone.. But most importantly, he talked about the pink trees..
After Emmet left the Moss Blanket, Celebi turned around and went straight to The Wilds in search of Ingo.
Around 2 weeks give or take have gone by when Celebi finally finds Ingo. And by this time Elesa had fully repaired the teleporter and reactivated it.. but the teleporter didn't connect with another. Ingo did not appear..
Celebi began to try to lead Ingo home. It was tough considering how slow Ingo moved and all the dangers The Wilds presented.. but they managed.
A few days go by and its at this point that Emmet and Elesa are completely defeated. They don't even know where to begin looking for Ingo. They have no way of knowing where that teleporter took Ingo. Although Elesa tried to hack into it and find its last coordinates..
Emmet was back at his ranch, and to be honest.. he was falling apart. Each day that went by he spiraled more and more. There was talk about packing up a bunch of gear and supplies and venturing into The Wilds looking for Ingo.. though there were a lot of problems that presented..
Meanwhile Celebi, Ingo and Lady Sneasler saw a glint coming from a nearby cave..
It was another teleporter! And although it was currently shut off, it looked to be functioning! Ingo said a heartfelt goodbye to Celebi and Lady Sneasler. he thanked them for all their help and care. He activated the teleporter, and stepped through..
All in all Ingo was gone for about 3 weeks or so. He didn't suffer any memory loss or anything thankfully. His concussion and sprained ankle were generally mild and healed on their own over those 3 weeks. Although his leg was still pretty sore since he was constantly walking on it..
I have some ideas in mind for what happens after Ingo returns and what the reunion with Emmet is like. I plan to draw it sometime soon so stay tuned! :}}}
Also thank you for your interest in this Au and for your ask! It gave me a great excuse to ramble about the story and go into more detail! XDD
#my response#pokemon legends arceus#slime rancher#ingo and emmet#submas#elesa pokemon#nimbasa trio#tw blood#tw injury
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Forever
@loose1cannon Thank you so much for your request! I was so hyped with the Ace one, but I need to apologise because my angsty wired brain might have made a poo-poo. I'm so sorry if it's too sad! 😫 I promise that the other part of your request will be happy, okay?? I hope you still enjoy it! ❤️
Source for pic
Forever
Word Count: 1270
Tags: fem!reader; angst, so much angst; NSFW; feelings; hurt; sorrow; grief; spoilers for what happens at Marineford; slightly NSFW
Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.
Summary: It has been a year since Marineford and you still can't cope with the loss.
Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil (guys if you only want to be tagged for specific characters, please send me a message! I don't want to bother you with excessive tagging!!🙏)
|Masterlist|
Rain poured down from the skies mirroring your inner turmoil exactly. The steady downpour cast a sort of halo over your figure. It felt like a shroud. The site was eerily quiet aside from the sounds of the heavy drops crashing against the stone graves.
And for the thrumming of your heart.
An unsteady rhythm beating out of sync, skipping a beat now and then, as if it were missing something to make it whole. And it was.
Ace.
One year had passed since he left you, or since you lost him. Honestly, it felt like the world itself had lost him, since he belonged to everyone. He was life itself. And without him, there was only demise.
“Did you miss me, baby?” His tongue swiped against yours in desperation while his scalding hands roamed your clothed body. “I missed you so much. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. All day, every day.”
Ace was always so eager for you that his touch singed your clothes, leaving small burn marks on the hem of your shirts or on your jeans. It used to piss you off. You’d scold him saying you didn’t have berries lying around just to buy new clothes and that he should be more careful. He laughed it off, or kissed it off, murmuring that he could buy or steal all the clothes you wanted, or better yet, you could just walk naked.
A sob clawed its way up your throat and scratched it, yearning to get out, needing to be free, but you clamped it down and pushed it back into your insides to fester and rot like all the other feelings of grief, sorrow and despair.
No more crying. No more sadness. Ace wouldn’t want that. Ace loved your laugh.
“Laugh for me, Sunbeam!” You were both lying on his bed, sheets tangled on naked limbs and sweaty bodies, heaving from exhaustion and pleasure.
“No. I’m mad at you.” But you weren’t, you were just downcast.
“It’s just a month. I’ll be back before you know it.”
No, no. You can’t go there, this one is too painful. If only you insisted, if only you had pushed further. He wouldn’t have gone after Blackbeard and he would still be here with you.
Your knees hit the muddied floor with a soft thud as your hands clutched your chest. Slim fingers crumpled the drenched fabric as your breath left your lips in shallow, ragged heaves. “You weren’t supposed to leave me, Ace! Not like this!”
Your arms circled your torso in the only hug you allowed yourself these days: your own. It was nowhere near enough, but then again, there would never be another hug like Ace’s.
It was crushing, bone-breaking, suffocating. It was home.
“Ace!”
“I’m back, baby. Missed me, Sunbeam?” With a little jump you were straddling his lap, legs wrapped securely around his waist as his hands rested on your ass. Your mouth devoured him while your fingers tangled in his unkempt greasy hair. “I guess that’s a yes.”
That smirk. Those freckles. The mischievous glint in his eyes.
Gone. All gone. Buried in front of you, six feet under and beneath layers of cold, unforgiving dirt.
Alongside your heart.
You tried to stifle your moans against the pillow, but he would have none of that. Stopping that sinful lapping of his tongue and removing his fingers from inside you, he lifted himself onto his knees and threw the pillow to the other side of the cabin. “I want to hear you scream my name.”
“Ace!” You whisper with a groan of frustration. You were just about to unravel when he left you feeling empty.
“Yes, sweetheart, just like that.” He aligned his leaking tip with your wet entrance and teased, pulling a little mewl from your lips. “But way louder.”
And you did what he told you to.
Was that the last time?
There’s no stopping the tears. You tried, you really did. But they were relentless. You have a million memories from the past and a million and one memories of Ace. You can’t afford to lose any of them.
"God, Ace, why?” The clenching in your chest expands and swells, taking up all the space inside. Filling you like a balloon and you feel ready to pop. How are you supposed to survive without him? One year was already hell, how can you survive another one?
And another one…
And another one…
“Smile, Sunbeam!”
“You’re shining, love!”
“Ah, that laugh right there, I could die a happy man.”
“You make me feel worthy.”
“I can’t live without you, baby.”
“Don’t ever leave me. I wouldn’t make it.”
You didn’t leave him. You kept your promise. He was the one who left. And now how are you supposed to move on with your life as if what made you live wasn’t ripped apart from you? How is a sunbeam supposed to shine when there is no reflective surface?
How can you be light, when all you feel is darkness?
“Ace… This was never supposed to be easy, but I didn’t expect it to break me…"
“I love you, baby.”
“I love you.”
“You’re my life.”
“My happy, little Sunbeam.”
“My love.”
Getting up on wobbly legs you took another two steps forward. Your tears mixed with the rain, salt and water. Pain and grief. Hurt and sorrow. Reaching with trembling, frail fingers, you grabbed the remnants of Ace’s hat. It was torn and tattered, the beads were barely hanging on, but it was still there.
A desperate wail left your lips as you fell back down, your legs no longer supporting the weight of your misery. This time, you let the sobs climb all the way out. And you cried as you had never cried before. Sobs, hiccups and ragged breaths mingled with the sound of approaching thunder.
But none of that compared to the tempest inside. It roared, raged and crashed, drowning you in its violence, dragging you to the pits of sorrow and darkness and you had no idea how to climb out of there anymore. Not without him.
But then there was a sudden calmness. A break amidst the most violent of storms and then the echo of a whisper, soft and unmistakable.
“You’ll be okay, Sunbeam.”
Ace’s voice. A gentle murmur in your soul. Perhaps a conjured thought your troubled mind had made up, but you’d take it.
You clutched his worn-out hat against your chest, wishing there was still a lingering scent of him anywhere, but he had disappeared so long ago. The rain slowed down and was now just a gentle pitter-patter against the leaves and the graves.
A sunbeam peeked from behind a dark cloud and landed on your lap, near Ace’s hat and for the first time in a year you felt a sliver of hope on the horizon. You didn’t have Ace anymore, but your love for him would never fade or wane.
Your memories together would still be a part of you.
You would carry him inside you and remember him in those missing, uneven beats of your heart.
Maybe… just maybe, that would be enough to carry you through.
“I’ll be okay, love.” You forced a laugh. A bright smile like the ones he used to love. “For you, Ace. I’ll fight for you.”
The sunbeam on your lap flickered, faded behind a cloud and reappeared on Ace’s grave. Hope filled you and took back some of the space that grief and sorrow had claimed as territory. You’d learn to shine again, someday…
For him.
For Ace.
For your love.
#one piece#one piece x reader#x reader#op#ace x reader#ace x you#portgas d ace x reader#portgas ace x reader#portgas d ace#reader insert#Spotify
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Love and Loss
Summary: Despite being married for centuries, the two lovers have yet to produce an heir. Desperate for a child, she makes a deal with Phanes, God of Life, unbeknownst to her that motherhood has its own complications much like love and marriage. Now she must find a way to save both her child and her love.
Notes: ~11k words, only lightly edited... so yeah. Also, this is my first time posting any of my writing so I'm nervous as fuuuuck. I keep switching between past and present tense but I think I caught them all but idk. Let me know if I miss any tags or warnings! (There's so many plot holes but shhhh)
Warnings: MDNI - 18+ content, one use of Y/N but written in 3rd person, Reader has a "name" that's only used twice, pregnancy, loss of pregnancy, metaphorical use of surrogation, usage of miscarriage themes, jealousy, P in V, oral (F! receiving), unprotected sex, jealous Dream but that's to be expected really, regency-esque, diverges from cannon
Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist
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Despite having been in the Dreaming for so long, its frigid air was something she could never get used to. The temperature always fixed itself somewhere between an unheated house on a winter’s day and a spring day in the shade. Despite her title in the realm, she always felt like a child walking to the kitchen late at night to grab a snack whenever she meanders into the great hall.
The castle of the Dreaming was her home, and she was the owner in every right as her husband. A small black cat accompanies her, its green collar and bell jingle with each step in its preppy trot. Her Lady wore simple garments, a dark green dress with slits to match her feline friend. Its light-weight fabric billows around her with a breeze that never seems to stop and some golden jewelry decorated her neck and arms, all gifts from his Lord. She opted to walk barefoot, skin to soil, so as not to hurt her feet necessarily before the upcoming dinner the Dreaming would host later today—the idea her own entirely that her husband agreed to for her sake.
Her legs move her toward the throne room, where she is certain her husband presides. Still, her feet are cold and thus she picks up the pace. Her steps are lighthearted as she prances on her tiptoes, heels dangling from her fingers.
Lord Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, King of the Nightmare Realms, Prince of Stories. She was sure there were more, but if she were to start listing them all in her head, she’d be stuck there all day. Morpheus was as old as humanity itself, perhaps even older. But as she sees him spread out on his throne, the air of authority is never questioned. Age has only made him more intimidating.
Morpheus commands any space he enters. His shadow fills each nook and cranny it seemed fit, aura chilling and distant. Yet he himself was a beautiful creature indeed. His modern form molded himself into a lean body, distinct muscle lines, and a strong jaw. His dark hair always looked tousled as if he had rolled out of bed a mere minute ago, and despite how often she would run her hair through the silky strands, they never behaved as they should have.
“Wife, mine,” Morpheus greets as she nears the bottom of the stairs. “What ails you to seek me out?”
The Lady smiles and gives a small curtsy before she ascends the curved stairs. “Nothing ails me, my lord. Must one have a reason to see her husband?”
Morpheus lets out an entertained breath before opening his arms in invitation. Another graceful smile appears on her lips as she sits comfortably in his lap, his arms encircling her.
“No, I suppose not,” He replies. He watches as she makes herself as comfortable as she can, leaning her head on his shoulder in a way that wouldn’t mess up her hair. The handmaidens would not stop fussing over it if a single strand was out of place from their original design.
“I simply wish to spend some time with you before our feast. I fear that I will be whisked away as I entertain guests for the evening.” She closes her eyes and steadies herself on the patterned breathing of her husband.
“I will stay by your side if you so command it,” Morpheus says. He runs his thumb in circles on her bare shoulder.
“And have everyone afraid to approach me? With your dark and brooding act?” She jests, her eyes opening briefly to look into his.
He can’t help his eyes rolling at her slight tease. “As you wish, my love.”
The two lovers sit for a moment. The sounds of her cat purring and their breaths mingling fill the air. But serenity such as this never lasts long in a castle like theirs. Lucienne comes from a hallway, presumably, the library’s, dressed up as well. Her coat was tailored to fit her body, her shoes freshly shined, and her glasses cleaned.
She gives a curt bow to the two sovereigns. “My lord, my lady,” She addresses. “The guests will be arriving soon.”
“Thank you, Lucienne,” Her lady says. She reluctantly releases herself from the warmth of her husband and uses the throne as a brace to put on her shoes. Her husband’s hand rests on the small of her back to further assist her.
“I will see you very soon, my king,” She says leaning down to peck his cheek before descending the stairs. She looks back once with another smile and then follows Lucienne to greet the arriving guests.
Morpheus’s eyes watch her figure until she turns a corner. He was still underdressed, his day previously preoccupied with trying to find a certain nightmare. He was simply idling on his throne in a simple black attire with his long coat. After all, a king need not worry about how he looks if he commands respect without golden bribes. With a wave of his hand, sand befalls him and covers him like ivy to a broken wall. When they recede he is dawning a tight button-up undershirt and vest, its fabric weaved with intrinsic cloud-like designs. His coat is now replaced with another of a similar shape and design but resembles cotton instead of the original felt. He fastens the raven cufflinks and smooths down his pants before rising from his throne and going to the Dreaming’s castle garden.
When Morpheus enters the gardens he immediately spots his wife at the entrance, standing underneath a pergola of purple wisterias and climbing hydrangeas. The flowers slowly lean towards the goddess as her presence fuels them by simple proximity. Her cat is nowhere to be seen and probably ran off into the gardens after a rodent caught his eye.
Morpheus slides up beside his wife as she greets the last of the guests arriving. He turns his head towards the decorated table and can see a great spread of gods, goddesses, fairies, nymphs, and other mystical creatures that his wife had managed to befriend—the feeling of her arm wrapping around his redirects his attention.
“Shall we, lord husband?” She gives him another one of her smiles and he understands how the hanging flowers feel. How he had ever lived without her before was still a mystery to him. To be him without her, it is like the Earth without its Sun - and he wishes to always feel the gravitational pull of her love.
Morpheus leads them towards the aggregation of guests, all of whom devote their attention to them.
“Beloved guests,” His wife starts speaking in her nectar-like tone, “Despite what is currently happening in the waking world, we are pleased that you could make time and attend this wondrous dinner.”
The goddess pauses for a brief moment as her guests clap in agreement. When they stop, she continues. “The feast is served buffet style, please eat and enjoy yourself to the fullest content. The Dreaming is here for your convenience.”
With her open palm, a long table appears with dishes of all types. Wreaths and fresh flowers decorate any empty space, which is to say, not much. Lambs, beef, and several types of poultry and fish take centerpieces along the table. Fruits, vegetables, and freshly baked bread weave in between the large plates as palate cleansers and small plates appear on the very corners of the table. A satisfied smile appeared on Her Lady’s face as the guests began grabbing food.
As the dust settles and smaller niches of guests start grouping, Morpheus is displeased when his wife leaves his side to mingle amongst the other gods. He watches from the shadows, small fruit plate in hand, glooming as she smiles with her guests. A hand comes up to hide her mouth as she laughs at something Phanes, God of Life, said. Jealousy brews and grows bitter like spoiled milk.
Morpheus stands, ready to come to his wife’s side in hopes of deterring the god, but before he can a nymph comes forward and gives an exaggerated curtsy. He can’t help the slight roll of his eyes as she begins to talk him up. The nymph’s voice carries a small lithe to it and he becomes unfocused, only noticing the movement of his wife’s green dress and Phanes walking off into the hedge labyrinth.
A frown etches itself onto his face. The nymph choosing to ignore the frown finds the courage to lift a mossy hand to caress his coat’s lapel, to which the Endless notices. Morpheus looks down at the nymph, his hand tightly grabbing into her wrist and dropping it away from him.
“Do not presume you may touch me, insolent child.” His voice is deep and grave as his frown deepens.
The nymph’s face contorted into embarrassment as red poppies boom across her cheeks and ears. She briskly walks away, forgetting to curtsy, with her tail tucked between her legs. The forest nymph looks forward to the next time she meets the Dream King, but she does not know that this will be the last time the doors of the Dreaming will open to her.
Dream makes a beeline towards the hedge labyrinth, taking a right turn as he had witnessed his wife doing moments ago. But, as something as lucid as the Dreaming, the labyrinth path twists and turns in new ways each moment. Morpheus turns left and right based on where he could feel his wife’s presence, but seems that she does not want to be found.
As a deity in her own right, should she so command it, she would not be found. Something that the Endless found infuriating at the moment. What could she possibly be doing with Phanes? Did she invite him for a personal reason? Was the dinner event a ruse so she could speak with him without raising any questions? Well, Morpheus surely was starting to ask questions.
Jealously turned into guilt quickly like the crack of a lightning bolt. Has he not been a good husband? Was she getting bored of their marriage? It has been several centuries, after all. Guilt turned into sadness as the questions he asked started bringing down his spirit. Surely there is something he can do to make her happy again. Surely she is faithful, surely, surely, surely…
Morpheus stands still, the drive to find his wife lost. The hedge leaves shiver as the temperature grows colder from the king’s mood. The lovely sunset leaves the last of its warmth before disappearing, leaving the sky full of stars. He turns around and retraces his steps, if his wife does not want to be found, he will grant her this wish.
Morpheus would never admit to anyone that he mopes. But with his sluggish walk and downturned lips, he clearly was. He sees his wife had made it out of the labyrinth quite some time ago and is already waving her guests goodbye, Phanes nowhere in sight. When she sees him emerging from the hedges, she perks up and excuses herself from her conversation.
“Dear husband, where did you run off to? Too many people in your presence?” She jokes, latching herself onto his arm.
“I was merely looking for you,” Morpheous murmurs. He starts walking with her back to the castle.
He waits as his wife takes a pause, slowing down in step. “You followed me into the labyrinths?”
He wasn’t sure what he was expecting her to say, but it certainly wasn’t that.
“Yes…” He draws out, trying to tread lightly, hoping that she would open up without much prompting. “I saw you and Phanes entering together.”
An amused huff escapes her. “I see.”
The silence lingers like the plague: uncomfortable and heavy in the air.
“Will you not speak as to why?” He questions and he almost hates how desperate he sounds.
The lady takes a seat on his throne, only to lean down and take off her shoes with a satisfied sigh. She rubs the ankles of her foot when she speaks again. “I believe it to be a personal matter.”
The answer was vague, and Morpheous hated it. Angry, gray storm clouds formed overhead and the ice-cold rain started to hit the stained glass behind her.
“Am I not worth sharing with?” He asks again, but he doesn’t stop to let her answer. With her eyes wide in surprise, he continues. “Am I not good enough? Faithful enough? Am I not devoted enough to you, my love? Will you command me to beg on my knees, I shall if you so ask.”
He falls to his knees before her and runs his hands from her ankle to her knee, slowly, deliberately. His lips follow soon after, tracing the same path his fingers had. Her breath hitches and her hearts start beating faster.
“How can I show my devotion to you, my love?” He kisses.
“My wife?” He kisses again.
“My forever goddess?” And again.
“Morpheus,” She breathes out, and it’s all he ever wants to hear. She is all he ever wants to breathe and all he wants to taste.
“I pray to Daleena, Goddess of Husbandry, for forgiveness. I have left my wife unsatisfied and feel the crop of our love withered. I shall repent for my sins by your guidance.” Morpheus says in a hushed tone as he slowly inches higher on her leg.
The goddess feels power surge through her as the prayer leaves her husband's lips, and she craves the touch of them on her own. Heat pools between her legs as her husband’s breath fans across her lower regions. Her dress slits exposed her legs deliciously to Morpheous but there were still her undergarments, which he removed slowly, keeping contact with her silky skin as it slid down.
Her Lady looks down at him with uneven breaths and waits for him to give her what she wants. Morpheus, however, is patient. He traces his lips higher, he kisses all the spots she wants, but not where she needs it the most.
“Morpheus,” She pleads, and it is all he needs. One moment it is the cold air of the Dreaming and the next it is the warmth of his lips, tongue languishing the length of her slit.
She jerks in place, strong hands holding down her hips. Her own hands shoot out, desperate to grab onto anything. One, bear-clawed and desperate, on the arm of the throne and the other weaving itself into the silky strands of her husband. She gasps at the wet sensation and her head is thrown back in pleasure.
The Endless is unmovable, driven solely by the purpose of satisfying his wife. A low groan emits from deep in his throat at the unapologetic sounds she cries, babbling in a series of his name and other obscenities. He tilts his head higher until he finds her clit and relishes in the pain of her nails in his hair, lapping at her arousal with contentment until it drips down his chin. He is a starved man and she is his salvation.
Morpheus continues his demonstrations, alternating between her clit and her needy cunt. She clenches her thighs hard as she feels the impending rise of her orgasm. Her fingertips buzz with excitement as he continues to ravish her sensitive clit. His pace continues, and her eyes roll to the back of her head.
She calls out his name again, and a high-pitched whine leaves her lips as he easily adds two digits into her weeping hole. He moves them slowly, slightly curved to touch that delicious spot inside her that has her arching her back taught like a bow. From below, Morpheus looks at her through his lashes, and he can’t help the smirk that tugs on his lips as his wife tries to thrash from the sensations. She tightens around him, cunt pulsing sporadically, and he is flooded with her orgasm where he drinks greedily from the taste - sweet like a plentiful summer wine.
He places a final gentle kiss on her clit before looking at her again, the skin of her extremities glowing ethereally as she tries to control her ragged breaths. She is still in the midst of her orgasm, trying to calm herself from the high and he finds it the perfect time to leave a bruising hickey on the inside of her plush thighs. Morpheus gets up, dick painfully hard as it brushes against his pants. He takes hold of her hands to help her stand on wobbly legs and leans back.
He leans until he falls, through the throne room floor and then onto the plushness of their shared bed. His command dematerializes both of their clothes and he basks in the sticky warmth of his wife on top of him. He runs light fingers down her spine, shivers following behind like a loyal companion, whispering sweet nothings into her ears.
“Come back to me,” He murmurs, kissing her sweat-filled brow.
“Hmm,” The goddess exhales after a few more seconds of silence, eyes opening languishingly, lashes tickling the skin of her husband.
She looks around the dimly lit room for a moment before realizing that she is in their bed. Using her husband’s chest, she props herself up, effectively straddling him beneath her. Morpheus remains unmoving, ignoring the way his tip brushes against her lower lips, only messaging the meat of her hips with his thumb.
When she meets his eyes again, he speaks. “Have I proven myself, dear wife?”
It takes a moment for the goddess to remember what he was talking about and her feelings crash down again. “You had never needed to prove yourself to me, Morpheus. What happened between me and Phanes will remain between me and Phanes.”
She lifts herself on sore thighs, but can’t get far as gentle hands turn rough. The next moment, she is lying down with her husband looming over her. There was not enough light to illuminate his face, leaving only the impression of his merciless, mercury eyes. Deep down, she knows no harm will ever befall her, but in this moment, something primal presents itself.
Perhaps it is how his eyes bore into her very soul, to the very moment she was born several millennia ago. Or perhaps, she was just crazy about how his touch was driving her mad. She was very aware of the appendage that settled between the two of them and the way that her slick was coating it. His hands cup her cheek and slide down her neck and her head tilts back at the ticklish and yet pleasurable sensation. She swallows thickly and a broken sigh escapes her as his hand ghosts over her nipple.
Shivers bloom once more as his mouth incloses over the perk nipple, suckling at it in a way that has her legs wrapping around his waist. Her arms come up and snake over his shoulders, fingers gliding over the smooth marble-like skin, then resting behind his neck. One of her hands finds itself back into his hair, clenching as he gives continuous pleasure to her body.
Her hips buck up, her pussy clenching down on nothing. Cold fingers glide down the center of her stomach, going lower and lower until they cup her heat. A thumb gently circles her clit, understanding the overstimulation it recently received. They trace over her outer lips, downwards, then upwards again, coating themselves with a mixture of spit and arousal.
Morpheus removes himself from her breasts and presses his lips at the junction between her neck and shoulder. He licks at the sweat that accumulates on her collarbone and continues up her neck. When he faces her again, he speaks.
“Beg for it.” He commands.
Her Lady remains silent, slowly chewing on the inside of her lip, weighing the options in her head. Morpheus, as always, is patient and he continues running his fingers between her folds, keeping his pace but occasionally rubbing his pointer finger in circles around her clit. When she realizes that he really would just keep rubbing her and nothing else, she opens her mouth.
“P-please,” She stutters, the mere idea of begging or pleading foreign on her tongue. As a goddess, one would never allow such lowly behavior. Nevertheless how her husband will give her whatever she asks for.
Morpheus hums in approval, removing his hand to hold his dick instead. He rubs it this time in lieu of his fingers around her cunt and the goddess almost begs again. Before she can, a moan releases from both of them as he inserts himself into her and she whimpers at the familiar dull ache of being stretched out. Morpheus dips his head between her neck and shoulder again and remains stiff, feeling the warmth that only his wife can provide.
He pulls out and she mews beneath him in pleasure, ushering him to fill her up once again. Her cunt sucks him back and he wraps one of his arms underneath her waist to ground him. The other slams against the headboard of the bed, and he grabs on for all he is worth. His thrusts grow harder as her cries grow louder and he feels the way she clenches down on him.
“How divine you are, my love,” He says with a shaky breath, kissing more bruising hickeys that he hopes will last for millennia. He blows cold air over them and goosebumps rise in place, her back arching again and he can feel each perk nipple rubbing against his chest.
She moans his name again, losing herself in each drag of his cock, screaming curses when the head brushes against her sensitive spot, and whimpering when it kisses her cervix. Morpheus rises, looking down on his wife with half-lidded eyes, running a hand down between the valley of her breasts, feeling each desperate breath of air. He goes lower and groans when he sees how the two of them are connected.
Each thrust creates an unholy, slick noise and he can see the inflamed clit begging for attention. He presses his fingers on her lower stomach and she cries out for him.
“Can you feel me, my Queen?” He growls down at her, feeling the way his dick moves within her.
“Yes!” She cries back, her brows furrow and her cunt pulses around him, gripping him like a vice.
“Do you love me, my Queen?” He asks again.
“Yes!” She cries again. She starts begging again. Please, please, please, please. “Don’t stop, please my King. Please, don’t stop!”
“Will you tell me why you spoke with Phanes?” His last question.
Her eyes snap open, all the build up from her orgasm lost in the question. With her legs still around his waist, she twists her hips and topples Morpheus over until he is beneath her again.
“No,” She whispers, rocking her hips back and forth to regain the momentum they had lost.
This time, it is him who pleads. “Please,” He whispers back. His hands cup at the roundness of her ass cheeks, loving how soft they were.
She increases the ferocity of her grinds, looking down at her husband like he had just done with her. His head tosses back and she loves watching his Adam’s apple slide up and down his throat as he moans for her. His eyes are squeezed shut and his grip tightens but she doesn’t relent.
That familiar searing hot feeling appears again in her lower stomach and with one final grind she releases her orgasm all over him, falling onto his heaving chest. Morpheus cums right after, shooting his release into her in hot loads and she feels each jolt inside of her.
Her orgasm rocks through her body, feeling both too hot and too cold at the same time. It tingles in her fingers and toes and when she closes her eyes, she sees the stars of the Dreaming shinging back at her. When she comes back to her senses (again) she can feel her husband’s hand running through her bed hair, untangling it as much as he could with the one hand. The other hand holds her waist flush with his. The two lovers share a quiet moment after their throw of passion before she speaks again.
“Phanes and I…” She starts, and she can feel Morpheus stiffen under her. She groans as his cock is still deep in her, semi-hard and the only thing keeping them together.
She shifts a bit and some of their combined release pool down onto his abdomen. He would never admit to her how filthy he thought it was, nor the fact that he loved it all the same.
“Yes?” Morpheus urges, looking down at her on his chest with full attention.
“We made a deal.” She finishes her sentence.
Everything stops as Morpheus sits up. “What deal did you strike? I can do it instead, terminate the deal at once, my love.” He says with anxiety.
His wife grabs onto him as she is rocked back and a smile appears on her face. “Morpheus, my love, you have done your part.” Her smile turns sad and a forlorn look cloaks her face and she casts her gaze downwards. “We just needed some extra help.”
A confused look crosses Morpheus’s face. He brings a hand to lift her chin to look at him. With the raise of an eyebrow, he doesn’t have to say anything for his wife to know he wants a better explanation.
“I asked for a child, Morpheus.”
When her husband remains quiet, her lips start to tug downwards and his heart lurches at the sight. Her waterline soon floods with tears.
“We have not been able to produce an heir once.” She says, voice wavering. She dares not to blink for she is afraid if a single tear were to fall, all of them would.
“What in return?” He asks.
“I look after his pet snake for a weekend.” She replies simply. Morpheus has returned to his previous position.
The tears start to fall, each fat drop hitting his skin seemingly striking him directly in the heart. “You need not worry, wife. This time it will take, with Phanes’s help or not.” He whispers into the crown of her head.
She nods once, sniffling as her nose starts to run, too. The rhythmic breathing below her and the continued brushing of her hair rocks her to a dreamless sleep. Morpheus wraps his arms protectively around her frame and should he have known, he would’ve stayed longer. He would’ve held her tighter, kissed her longer, and promised her that he would be there when she woke. Alas, there was a missing nightmare, rampaging through the waking world, something that was his responsibility as king.
When she wakes up the next morning, with a satisfying ache throughout her body, the bed was cold and empty, and her husband was nowhere to be seen. To say that this was new behavior would be a lie, unfortunately. The number of times that a night of passionate love-making ended in a cold and lonely morning was more than she could count on her fingers and toes. That isn’t to say that Morpheus didn’t want to stay in bed with her, it’s simply a sovereign that understands his responsibilities, and she could never blame her husband for that.
Avoiding the difficult conversation the two lovers shared last night, her Lady avoids the locations her husband is most likely to reside in. Instead, she chooses to look towards her duties in the Dreaming. She finds herself amongst a simple dream from a small farmer who looks after sheep, who struggles with getting their weight to increase during the harsh winters. Carefully, she admits herself to him, dressed in a light yellow dress, sunflowers decorating the fabric and her hair. Her hands were covered in dirt, and she held a shepherd’s crook that had a bell attached to the end.
The farmer looks up from his rocking chair, prized sheep chewing lazily around him, and smoke from his pipe circles him. His face was rough - old and wrinkled from long days in the sun during his youth. But she smiles gently at him when his laugh lines appear around the edges of his eyes and mouth.
She stands next to him and they stare out on his flock together. He shares his life story. The story of a young boy whose father was also a farmer, and his father before him, and his father before him. He talks about his first puppy, named Barkly, his first love, whom he lost after he was drafted into the First World War, and how he now finds solitude with his late wife’s grave and his grandchildren.
He mentions that he needs to fatten his sheep up for the winter as he can’t lose any more stock so he may afford medicine for his sick grandson. He confesses that he has tried everything and nothing seems to have worked. He looks up at her now, tired, and slumped over, and realization dawns on his face as she smiles down at him.
She whispers at him a simple solution, one he can’t quite hear over the muddle of a dream. He stands abruptly as her figure distorts, the dawn is rising and a farmer’s body rises with it. He thanks her - he offers a sheep for her, which she nods at before he wakes from his dream.
The goddess visits a few more dreams, each giving her ethereal presence. Some were like the one she was just at, some needed comfort from the loss of animals, and some dreamed of a new pet to have. By the 5th dream, she realizes that several days had passed in the waking world, and her husband was nowhere to be found.
She admits to herself that she had been avoiding him longer than she intends, but perhaps it was time to face him again. She teleports to the castle, summoning herself before the drawbridge of the magnificent building. The ivory dragon perks up at her arrival, but otherwise pays no attention to her, going back to hoarding its gold coins, a few of them falling when she crosses the large doors.
As always, the castle is slightly colder than what she likes. A small sense of deja vu encapsulates her as she walks to the all-familiar throne room. This time, however, it was empty. No figure on the throne, nor the stairs as he sometimes preferrs it. Odd, she thinks, but not impossible. So she turns a corner to the library, she often finds him here as well, looking over the books of his dreamers. She searches high and low, through each aisle and reading spot, but still nothing. Anxiety and thoughts of doubt begin to fill her. Perhaps she did mess up, making that deal with Phanes.
Her last stop was Cain and Able’s homes. She finds the two brothers in front of their own homes, tending to their garden and playing with the gargoyle that Morpheus had given them. The two were of no help as they were unable to answer something worthy of even a hint of where her husband was.
She rolls her eyes as the walk away from their homes was accompanied by the sound of a scream and the resolute bang of a metal shovel hitting a skull.
As her last resort, she calls for Lucienne. Often, she hopes to never bother her, understanding that the work she puts into maintaining the Dreaming is never-ending. And, she knew that if she were to ask something of her, Lucienne would stop everything to help her.
“His Lord left several nights ago to fetch the Corinthian,” She spoke, pushing up her round glasses.
“And since then?” She questions, her hands wringing with themselves. She hopes for an answer she knows she won’t get.
Lucienne shakes her head no. “My Lady, Jessamy hasn’t returned either. Perhaps his Lord is simply taking longer than usual.”
“Let us hope,” She says defeated.
For the next few months, the goddess stays within the Dreaming. Each day that passes, more hope was lost for her husband's return. Doubt and anxiety cloud her mind at the uncertain future.
She looks down at her stomach, a distinguishable bump had made its appearance and she rubs it gently with her hand. The deal with Phanes went through, she is with child. She should be happy right? Except for the obvious fact that Morpheus still had not returned.
Her cat lounges at her feet where she sits and she pets its head. With a trill, it looks at her, similar mercury eyes of her husband stares back. She had no choice but to find him herself.
“Go,” She asks of it. “Go to the waking world, find Morpheus.”
The cat sits up and stretches, hind high in the air. Its claws grips into the plush carpet it rests on. With another stretch to its lower back, it trots off, the jingling sounds of its bell disappearing as it crosses over to the waking world.
All the goddess could do was wait and hope. She runs another anxious hand across her stomach and a tear escapes her.
Lucienne had mentioned it to her in passing a few days ago. The librarian stated that it probably was nothing to worry about, but the conversation had stuck with the goddess since.
The Dreaming is dying.
As much as the Dreaming is hers through marriage, it is suffering without its true ruler in the realm. She could see it in the dying leaves and small cracks of the castle. The ivory dragon that rests above the castle has gotten more restless in the past few weeks. And despite her best efforts to comfort the animal, the dragon did not listen to the Goddess of Husbandry.
This brings up a second concern of hers. The child she carries is as much a part of her as it is the Dreaming’s. It embodies a part of the Dream Lord and if the Dreaming is suffering, there stands to reason that her husband is suffering as well. If both of these entities are suffering, what is to happen to her child?
This child that she already loves until she is forgotten and nothing but stardust and she had been asking for centuries. This child that Morpheus is finally ready to love after the untimely death of his son. She must find Morpheus, and soon.
For the sake of the Dreaming and her child.
Several more weeks pass and her cat had yet to come back. She only hopes that it was due to the difficulty of finding an Endless and not because it got distracted with a family whose heart was big enough to take in a “stray” cat. Each day that passes, she grows significantly weaker. The prayers of her followers still ring in her ears, but she could not leave the Dreaming to help her devotees.
Another war broke out among the humans, the one they call World War II. Less and fewer people were crossing over into the dreaming and slowly, the once beautiful realm was losing its colors. The goddess couldn’t stop the residents of the realm from leaving its gates, the Dreaming was no longer a place they wished to stay. Furthermore, there weren’t enough dreamers for them to bother staying. She only remains thankful for those who decided to stay.
She sits on Morpheus’ throne, the castle colder than ever. Behind her, the once beautiful stained glass had shattered. The Corinthian had still not been captured, or else her husband would have been home and Fiddler’s Green had decided to leave. She runs a hand through her hair at the issues that seem to keep piling up. As she ignores her prayers, her powers start to wane. Fewer and fewer people were still believing in her.
And how could she blame them? She hasn’t made herself present in any of their prayers and with the war, people were less concerned about animals and more about themselves. She sighs.
A sharp pain yanks her out of her thoughts and a scream rips from her throat. She doubles over from the throne and kneels, hunching over on the floor. The pain spreads across her lower abdomen and a shaking hand holds her stomach. Immediately she knew something was wrong and it involved the safety of her child.
For a moment, she couldn’t breathe, too focused on staying conscious. The throne room was empty, her fall echoed around and bounced across the wide walls. When she thought the pain was over, she took in a large breath, inhaling shakily in gulps.
Salvation lasts a few seconds before another wave of pain overwhelms her. It wraps around her like a hot blanket on a sweltering day, sticking to her skin and making her overstimulated. Too much was happening at once and it was almost too hard to bear.
“Lucienne!” She screams between cramps. Tears fall in fat drops onto the floor and wets the hand propping her up.
Lucienne appears quickly, followed closely by Mervin. Hands grab at her weak body and hoist her back onto the throne. Where she had fallen, blood pooled and more fell from between her legs.
Her whole body shakes with shivers and a whimper leaves her.
“My Lady,” Lucienne says with concern. The librarian couldn’t stop from staring at the growing pool of blood below her.
“What do we do?” Mervin asks. Even though he was a glorified janitor, constructor, and destructor for the Dreaming, he didn’t know how to fix this.
“Call for Phanes,” Their Lady said weakly. Sweat begins to appear like morning dew across her forehead. For once, she was grateful for the cool temperature.
“Mervin, take her to his Lord’s chambers,” Lucienne instructs. She doesn’t stay to watch as she sprints to the library.
She flips through leather-bound books, old and new until she finds the correct summoning spell she was looking for. The loyal librarian could only hope that a god would listen to a dream like her.
She hauls the large book into the room her Lady lays in. Labored breathing came from both women, although for two vastly different reasons.
“Forgive me, my lady, but I require your assistance,” Lucienne said next to the goddess’ bed.
The goddess gives her a hand limply and Lucienne starts chanting the words on the page while holding her cold fingers. The wind whirls around them and Mervin holds onto his pumpkin head to not have it knocked off.
Lucienne finishes the spell and looks down. Her Lady was glowing with power but she could not have looked any more weak. Nothing happens for a few bated breaths, only the sound of howling wind around them. Then nothing, not even the sound of crickets could be heard.
Enters Phanes, golden and warm like the sun. He materializes in a cloud of golden dust. He slams his staff down, and his golden snake slithers up from under his robes.
“Who dares summon m-”
“Lord Phanes,” Lucienne interrupts, something she knows she would be punished for, if not for the more important matter at hand.
A glare is thrown her way and softens at the familiar face. Phanes’ eyes travel across the intertwined fingers and land on his friend.
Weak eyes open and meet his. The godly figure is almost too much to stare directly at.
As if understanding what was happening to his friend, he drops the golden light he had been shining. The Dreaming returns to its cold blue, and it was just two deities and two dreams in understanding.
“A new deal,” Phanes announces and the goddess wants to weep again. Judging by how her husband acted the last time she had done this, she was going to be doomed. But the decision was easily made.
“Anything,” she whispers. Her eyelids are starting to feel heavy. She had delivered countless calves, kittens, and cubs, but never another deity. Was she supposed to feel this weak?
Silky scales slide across her feverish skin and she is face to face with Phanes’ serpent.
“Give your child to him, he will keep them safe until they may come to fruition. Until then, you must look after the serpent as if it is of your blood.”
The goddess could barely pay attention but understood in a way without words. She nods in agreement and the relief begins almost immediately.
Pain seeps out of her body, slow, like molasses and her body starts to glow again. Lucienne shields her eyes and peeks through her fingers. The goddess’ stomach glows and deflates.
A small glowing ball releases itself from the warmth of her womb, its dim light is warm and lights the room like a lantern on a foggy night. A weak hand cups it and it sits in the palm of its mother.
“Hello, darling son,” She whispers. The ball stays still, a small high-pitched noise emitting from itself.
The goddess smiles. “Darling daughter, then?” This time, the ball bounces gently a few times in response but otherwise doesn’t do anything.
The golden serpent is slowly making its way up the arm that holds the glowing orb. A tongue flicks out and smells it. Then with a nod from the goddess, the serpent unhinges its mouth and swallows the child whole. The light shines through the crevices of its eyes and ears as it makes its way down the serpent's throat. Eventually, the light dissipates and the serpent looks all the same, save for the bulge in its stomach.
A sense of longing borrows itself into her chest where her heart lies. Quite literally, the light disappears right in front of her. Physically, her pain had been removed, only the dried blood between her legs reminded her of what had happened just moments prior. And yet, a dull pain resides. Something she couldn’t put her finger on, but she could feel it behind her eyes and how it lodges in her throat.
Her gaze is unfocused as she pets the golden snake, her golden snake now, her child. For the rest of the night, she rests and Phanes leaves without a word. Lucienne stays by her side the whole time, eyes only moving when the serpent shifts. Mervin went back to work after a few hours, the castle’s foundation still cracking under their feet. He left with a sorrowful look, well, as sorrowful as a pumpkin head could be.
As the sun rises the next day, the goddess wakes up to not only the snake by her side but the librarian and her long awaited cat. Lucienne wakes up at the first shift that her Lady makes and stands.
“Let me draw you a bath,” She said before any debate.
“Lucienne,” Her Lady calls after her anyway in rejection. All of her handmaidens had left. They were only there to help the goddess under the instruction of the Dream Lord who created them. Without him here, no one would punish them for leaving and not attending his wife.
Still, the librarian doesn’t listen and disappears into the joined bathroom. Meanwhile, the goddess looks down at her cat and raises an eyebrow. It has certainly gotten fatter. And a new name tag was attached to his collar next to his bell.
“Buttons,” She said out loud, reading the new name. At that, the cat perks up and stares back at her disappointed face. “You got distracted on your mission didn’t you?”
She pets his rounder stomach and scratches his head. “Well, they certainly loved you…” The hidden passive-aggressive message was evident.
The cat, now Buttons, doesn’t bother with a response. Instead, it lays back down, flicking its tail aggressively at her comment.
She rolls her eyes. “Did you locate his Lord?”
Buttons rolls onto his back and stretches, belly exposing to her, and opens his mouth in a yawn. “Burgess Manor,” He says and turns his body away from her.
Finally, an answer. She throws the blanket off her body and goes to stand. She looks at her closet, thinking of what to wear to the waking world to retrieve her husband.
“My Lady!” Lucienne exclaims as she walks out of the bathroom. The goddess looks over at her and notices her staring at her dress. She looks down as well and remembers all of the blood that she spilled last night. It had caked itself into the fabric and was still crusted on the inside of her legs.
The librarian’s shock was still on her face when she realizes that her Lady fully intends to go to the waking world looking like that, having overheard the conversation between her and the cat. Lucienne insists she take a bath first and that she would find something for her to wear.
Her Lady doesn’t disagree and disappears into the steaming bathtub that was made for her. She doesn’t regret it for a second the moment she steps in. The warmth was comforting like a mother huddling to keep its cub warm. The water washes away the filths of yesterday and within the embrace of the water, she finally cries.
It’s not a gentle cry, it is hiccups and gasping for breath. The pain of yesterday that she felt behind her eyes and in her throat spills out. Her bathwater which used to smell of apples and cinnamon now turns into a maroon as her blood washes out. It starts to smell of iron and salt and it reminds her of war.
Her hand runs over her stomach and a whimper leaves her again at the lack of the bump she had grown so accustomed to. Logically, she knows that her child, no her daughter, was safe. But, one would have to admit that having their daughter in the stomach of a serpent was a bit unnerving.
A golden head peaks at her over the side of the ceramic bathtub and flicks out its tongue.
She sniffs the last of her tears away and pets its head with her index finger. “I’m sorry for leaving you already, dear daughter.”
The serpent’s stomach had grown twice as large since last night and since this is new territory for her, she must make haste so she may be back in the dream to witness the birth of her daughter.
Before she left, though, she walks into the castle gardens and gets to work. From her fingertips she grows a birch tree, its white branches and muted green leaves fit right into the dying realm around them. She sprouts flowers and brushes for scenery and a bed made of straw under a tunnel that she dug out.
The golden serpent follows her and slithers up her body, wrapping around her curves. When its head was next to hers, it let out a rattling-like noise in agreement with the small open enclosure the goddess had made for it. It slides back down her body and makes it home in the tunnel.
“Mommy will be back,” She whispers to it when it settles in and gives it a quick peck on the top of its head. It flicks its tongue at her and moves further into its nest.
The goddess stands back up and dusts off any dirt that could have gotten on her dress. Lucienne helps her pick out an appropriate attire for the waking world. Something she wouldn’t personally wear, but it certainly helps to blend in with the mortals. She quickly had to locate her husband. After all, she has no idea how long it takes for a snake to incubate a child.
It was easy to find the Burgess Manor when she arrives in the waking world. Everyone who was anyone spoke about the grand magus who managed to capture the devil in his basement. That the devil had granted him eternal life and some other rumors. All she had to do was flaunt a smile and go where the fingers pointed.
The rumors, of course, were mere rumors. The devil? No. Without knowing it, Rodrick Burgess managed to capture something even more powerful. How he had managed to keep him captured was a different question entirely and the goddess had a sneaking suspicion that he had some help.
It was nightfall when she arrives at the gates of the manor. Thousands of people clamor in the front garden, talking amongst themselves. Suddenly, the clothing she had worn was not fit for the environment she was walking into. Using a little bit of her powers, she changes the outlook of her clothing into something else. It was a bit more formal, growing longer and softer to the touch. However, if someone were to squint and stare hard enough, they would be able to see the original dress she had worn.
She weaves her way to the front and listens carefully to the words around her.
“I had arrived this morning, my feet are killing me.”
“Ha, me as well. But anything to get into the manor. I want to see what the Great Magus is hiding.”
“Not to mention the party of your lifetime!” They joke together.
Someone taps her on her shoulder. Another young man was waiting to be let in.
“You are a new face,” He comments and takes her hand. He presses his lips to the back of it. She takes her hand back and wipes it away on the back of her dress while keeping a smile.
“Yes, I wish to see the Great Magus himself.” She half-lies through her teeth. The young gentleman offers an arm to her which she reluctantly takes. Perhaps he will be the key to getting into the manor.
The doors of the manor open and people slowly trickle in. She peers over shoulders into the manor but couldn’t immediately find anything of note that would be dangerous. The warmth of the building fans over her as she enters through the large doors and a breath of relief escapes her.
“Isn’t it everything you could ever dream of?” The gentleman asks. He looks down at her with a smile.
She looks around, the manor was certainly lively. Foods of all kinds sprawl out on tables, fresh flowers almost too sweet to smell, and candlelight flickers and dances from the sudden wind. There were some party tricks as well, the flames seem to sparkle a bit more, bubbles were floating around in the air without popping, and the statues follows her with their eyes. But, they were all small party tricks, nothing to indicate this holier-than-thou man.
Through the buzz of it all, she could feel it. The string of fate that connects her to her husband. It was faint, but it was there and she knew she was in the right place. She just had to find out where.
A man emerges on the top of the stairs to the second floor and opens his arms in a flourish. She frowns at him because there he was, Rodrick Burgess, the man who took her husband. By the end of tonight, she promises herself, there will be no Rodrick Burgess.
“Ow, dang you’ve got a grip on you,” She breaks eye contact with Rodrick when her escort for the evening exclaims out. She releases the iron grip she had wrapped around his lower arm and apologizes.
“I am terribly sorry,” She apologizes. “Actually, I am parched, can you be a gentleman and fetch me some lemonade?” She bats her eyelashes and gives a smile. His face lights up in a blush and runs off to fetch her the lemonade she wants.
As soon as he was out of eyesight, the goddess began moving. She moves between bodies like wind on the beachfront - gracefully, wistfully, but with purpose. She uses her senses to locate where her husband could be. It was like an invisible dance.
When the sense weakens she backtracks, when it strengthens she moves forward. She was so lost in her quest that she almost did not register when she ran into a wool-covered chest. Surprise overtook her face as she looks up, ready to apologize and continue on her way. But she stops when she realizes that the man she bumps into is the very host of the party.
“Rodrick Burgess,” She says almost breathlessly. Oh, how she wants to commit a grievous crime to this mortal.
The old man chuckles above her and grabs onto her shoulders. His fingers are cold when they come into contact with her bare skin and she wants to cringe away from his touch, but he holds on strong.
“You seem like a curious creature, my little dove,” He comments and starts to walk. Without much room to budge, she is reluctant to follow him.
“Yes,” She drawls out much like how Morpheus tends to do. She suddenly acts with interest when she realizes that the bond strength between her and her husband increases. She holds on tighter and presses her body against his arm.
“I heard that the great Magus kept the devil in the basement of his manor. Can we see it?” She fakes a supple voice and looks up at him with an innocent smile.
“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t think a small thing such as yourself would want to see the devil.”
“No!” She belts out, a bit too quickly. But she recovers smoothly. “What I mean to say is, I am far too excited to see him. Please don’t deny me this one pleasure Great Magus.”
“How loathsome,” She thinks to herself.
“Very well, I can’t deny you anything if you keep looking at me like that.” He confirms.
Rodrick Burgess leads her away from the party, down a long and quiet hallway. It is decorated with antique and rare collectibles. The older man talks about each one, dragging on his time that leads to her husband, but she nods along anyway.
She had waited decades to be in the arms of her husband again, a few more minutes surely wouldn’t hurt. Soon, she is led to a dark and demanding set of double doors. Locks and bolts seal it from top to bottom. With a nod of Rodrick’s head, the guards stationed outside open the door slowly and a cold air seeps out and blows her hair back. The basement smells musty of old water and stale air. A cough emits from further down the stairs and she frowns.
“Scared yet, child?” Rodrick says to her mockingly.
She only shakes her head no as she continues down the steps.
The smell grows stronger as she gets closer and she can also make out a small portion of dirt and sand amidst it all. Despite it, the air was crisp and cold, suitable for a stone basement.
A light emits from the end of the long staircase downwards and she can’t stop her jaw unhinging as she finally sets her eyes on her husband. Tears well up in her eyes as they dart across the room.
Arches supported the basement throughout the floor and a moat still separates between her and her husband. A singular fluorescent light is cast on him in a glass prison as if he were some circus animal on display. Below the glass prison were some sort of gold runic markings and even from far away, she could feel the real magic emitting from them.
Rodrick releases her hold on him and turns to the two guards on duty that night. “You two may go,” He instructs, and the two leave without debate.
At the sound of his voice, Dream opens his eyes but remains in his laid position. His gaze pierces into his corrupt heart, if he even had one left, but quickly notices his wife by his side. With this, he sits up and gently places a hand on the glass barrier.
“Would you look at that!” Rodrick boasts. “He moves, he doesn’t do that much. Perhaps he has feelings for a pretty thing like you.”
The goddess doesn’t hear him and walks up to the glass cage in a trance. How does she free him? Tears fall restlessly down her face and her stature dejects. She snaps out of her trances on the small bridge above the stagnant water when a rough hand squeezes her upper arms.
“Stop, you must not get any closer. He is trying to seduce you into releasing him!” Rodrick hashes out between gritted teeth.
She opens her mouth to tell him something, anything, to release her husband but stops when she hears Dream’s voice again.
“Wife,” He calls simply and her body fills with all of the love and adoration she had been missing for decades.
Rodrick’s grip tightens at his voice, the first time he remembers hearing it. With a shocked face, he looks down at the woman in his grip. “Wife?!” He screams at her furiously.
She takes a deep breath and steels herself, ripping herself away from his bruising grip, and stands between him and her husband. The tears had dried and only anger left in its wake.
“The one before you is Daleena, Goddess of Husbandry, Mother of Agriculture and Protector of Animals, Saint of Farmers, Queen of the Dreaming, wife of Dream of the Endless. You face me now, mortal.”
Wind swirls, somehow, in the basement but it is the least of Rodrick’s worries. He plants himself firmly as the wind picks up and sand envelops the two of them in a vortex of anger.
“I have captured something more than a god! I have an Endless!” He points a finger at her, eyes scrutinizing. “What makes you think you can defeat me? The Great Magus Rodrick Burgess?”
Walking a few steps forward, her shepherd’s crook materializes in her hand, the bell jingling violently in the wind. Her extremities start to glow their familiar light as she musters power. She points the staff at Rodrick as billets of wheat start growing around his feet and crawl up his legs, the nice wool of his pants long forgotten against the harsh stalks of the plants. The plants bloom as it sucks the life away from the very thing they grew on.
Rodrick starts chanting in Greek.
“Prostasía,” He chokes out. “Prostasía.” He chants again and he breathes easier. “Prostasía.” He chants one more time and he’s back to standing at his full height. The plants that were wrapped around him wither away and fell into dust, sucked into the sand vortex around them.
The goddess frowns, she did not realize how much power she had lost until now when a simple protection chant could stave off her attacks. Rodrick lunges at her, hands open and clawed, ready to grab onto any piece of her clothing. In turn, she slams her crook into the ground and a fissure opens up, but not before he can shove her further and her body slams into the wall of the glass prison. The fissure separates the two opponents away from each other and Rodrick steps back before he falls into the Earth.
She braces herself on the glass wall at the impact and loses her breath for a moment. She could feel the warmth of her husband’s hand and she turns away from Rodrick to look at him. His hand was aligned with her own, so close, only inches apart.
“The runes, my love,” Morpheus tells her. She looks down at looks at the graphics that surround them, the sand had erased some of it through the abrasive nature of itself. The magic within the runes would still be strong if not for the defiant smudge she creates with her foot, just in time for the fissure to finish opening. With a final look at her husband, she walks closer to the fissure, pulling the sand vortex smaller so it was just her and Rodrick again.
From the fissure glows a golden light, soft and merciful but quickly overshadowed by the growing dust. The light expands as the golden serpent which holds her daughter emerges. It had grown in size since the last time she had seen it. Its length and mass have nearly tripled in size and the baby bulge it used to flaunt was now merely a small bump.
Rodrick’s stare grows higher and higher as the snake continues to emerge, it stares at the man, tongue flicking angrily at him for daring to harm the goddess. The snake lunges, all fangs and dripping venom, its large scales clattering against each other like gold coins. Rodrick moves to the side and the serpent misses. It hisses in retaliation and comes around again, this time wrapping its body around the legs of the Great Magus.
Panic sets in as the serpent starts to constrict around the man and he can feel his pulse pounding against his head and the blood circulation gets cut off. The bones in his knees pop as they press together.
“Father!” A young boy’s voice screams across the vortex and the goddess sees a glint of silver cross into the vortex arena.
The serpent is halfway up Rodrick’s body when the goddess notices the sharp dagger that Rodrick now possesses. He rises it high in the air and with a large gasp plunges it into the flesh of the serpent. The golden scales provide little to no protection against the artifact.
“No!” She screams and takes a step forward, only to be stopped by the protective tail of the serpent.
The metal hisses as it melts against the golden scales, melting the scales together until they become smooth around the wound. Rodrick slides again and again until the weapon becomes too slippery with blood and he loses grip. The snake is now a mosaic of gold and red as it tightens one last time.
“Curse… you…” Rodrick strains out, his face turning purple as the last bit of air leaves him. The serpent weakens and falls in a slump like an inanimate rope and the sand around them falls like rain.
The goddess leaps over the fissure and after making sure the man is dead runs to the head of the golden serpent. Its eyes were dim, mouth agape as its muscles weakens and she can no longer feel it breathing on her skin when she places a hand above its nostrils.
“No, no no,” She mumbles to herself. She grabs her dress up and away from her feet as she makes her way down the length of the serpent. When she reaches where she last saw the small baby bump, she runs her hand along its underside, soon becoming slick with cooling blood.
She finds a particular cut that was deeper than normal and when she sticks her hand in there, they grab around a small appendage. A cry of relief leaves her lips as she digs deeper. She pulls her baby from the dying body and cradles it to her body. Golden scale imprints are decorated across her arms and legs and a few more along the spine of her back.
Her breath hiccups as silence fills the air. She pats her daughter’s back and wipes her mouth clean and panic seeps into her bones when still she remains quiet.
Morpheus appears behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder. She turns to him, tears streaking down her neck.
“Crying, why-why isn’t she crying?!” She wails and clutches her child harder against her chest.
Morpheus hugs her from behind and holds the two of them to his chest.
“Y/N,” He calls her name, her real name. Not her titles, or what the mortals call her, but the name given to her since her creation.
She weeps into his form, salty tears mixing with blood and the amniotic fluid that covers her child. Her tears fall into her daughter’s mouth and feed into the child her grief, regret, and guilt as well as the hope she still had in her.
A soothing hand pets her and the silence disappears. Loud wailing comes from below and her eyes shoot open. Her daughter was finally crying, her hands in fists as they move around in the air.
“Praises,” She sobs again, this time tears of joy. Her child's eyes peel open and smiles as she grabs at her mother’s hair.
Morpheus smiles, a rare one, all teeth showing as he touches his daughter’s head gently. The three, now a family, return home to the Dreaming. There will be more to do, especially for Morpheus but for now, a small victory lies within the hope that is their daughter.
Extra:
“Well I’ll be baffled, bamboozled, and befuddled,” Phanes says, hands on his hip and his staff leaning against one of the walls of the basement.
He stares at his serpent covered in dried blood and dearly departed, lying alone on the cold basement floor.
“Look at how they massacred my boy!” He screams to no one in particular, arms out in disbelief.
He lets out a huff and crosses his arms. “I’ll let you borrow my snake, blah, blah, blah, take care of it like it’s your own, meh, meh, meh,” He mocks.
Phanes runs a hand across the top of the snake’s head and watches as the dried blood rehydrates and moves thickly back into the cuts. The gnashes done by the weapon stitch itself back close and the gold scales return to their original form.
The snake shrinks smaller and smaller until it is back to its original size. At which, it perks up and flicks a tongue out in thanks to its god.
“All right, let’s go,” Phanes says with a sigh as if this was a mundane chore. He extends out a hand for the serpent to slither up to.
“I am never making a deal with those two ever again, that was crazy.” He says to his snake.
The snake flicks its tongue again and rattles the scales on its back.
“Ohh, that’s nice that she made you an enclosure.” He responds, then remains silent as the snake says something else. “What do you mean she forgot to put mice in the enclosure for you to eat?!”
Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist
#morpheus#morpheus x reader#morpheus x reader smut#the sandman#the sandman x reader#dream of the endless#dream#dream x reader#dream x reader smut#angst with a happy ending#light angst#the sandman fanfic#morpheus x wife!reader#morpheus x wife reader#dream of the endless smut#dream of the endless x reader
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homelander + bear hugs? 🥹
Apple Pie
A short interlude between Homelander and his favorite baker.
1 2 3
Homelander fights the urge to throttle Ashley as she follows behind him like an anxious chihuahua, yapping some nonsense about some Gala he’s contracted to show up to this evening. He can’t even remember what it’s for, just that it's more of Vought sucking its own dick while he endures hours of buttering up senators and shooting bright smiles at the ever present cameras. He’d been excited at first because he thought you might be there. He could just escape to whatever sad corner you would be working in if it all got to be too much. Except you won’t be there because someone approved your request for time off. He shoots Ashley a sideways glare.
The leather of his gloves creak as he clenches his fist. You won’t be back to work again until Monday and it is still only Friday. You’ve already been gone since last Monday. It’s driving him insane. The two of you don’t even get the chance to talk everyday normally but knowing that you won’t be there if he needs you… It makes him feel itchy and out of sorts. He misses you.
He’s so close to snapping as Ashley prattles on but the rapid sound of running footsteps has his brow wrinkling. His heart flutters in his chest as a familiar scent wafts through the hallway. It can’t be…
He turns.
Eager arms wrap around his neck, warm and soft and so so so incredibly close.
He doesn’t notice Ashley scurry off out of sight. He doesn’t notice much of anything other than you. He’s vaguely aware that he’s in a public hallway and that anyone could turn the corner and witness this. He frankly doesn’t give a shit.
He’s never been this close to you before. He can see every freckle, every pore, every imperfection and blemish. He doesn’t concern himself with any of that. As far as he is concerned, you’re the most perfect thing he’s ever seen. He’s holding you tight around the waist, your legs dangling, heartbeat pressed against his. Your chapstick smells like warm apple pie.
It’s like he manifested you from thin air by sheer wanting. Perfect. Soft. You.
Your eyes crinkle at the corners as you beam at him. He spins you around just so he can hear you giggle. He’s pathetic. He’s pathetic and whipped and fuck…He can’t fucking think when you look at him like that.
“Surprise!” You grin.
“It certainly is.” His answering smile is blinding.
He commits every inch of you to memory. You’re not wearing your typical work clothes, instead you’re in shorts and a top with straps so thin that it wouldn’t take any effort for him to grab one and tug it apart. The previously hidden expanse of deliciously smelling skin has his mouth watering.
He should put you down. He should.
But you aren’t pulling away or wiggling around. You seem perfectly content to be held in his arms, fingers shyly brushing the nape of his neck. He doesn’t know why you’re back early. He doesn’t care.
“I wanted to bring you something from my trip.” You respond shyly.
“Aren’t I the lucky one?” He winks and there it is. He’s flustered you. He loves flustering you.
He feels himself beginning to harden in his suit and it takes a second to realize that you’re pressed so closely that it won’t be long before you’ll be feeling it too. It’s so tempting to stay just like this. He wants you to feel what you do to him. He needs you to know that he wants you too.
But the timing and setting isn’t right. So with a burdened sigh, he lets you go. He laments the loss of you against him. So he reaches out to lay a steadying hand on your shoulder, although he handled you so carefully that you felt no jostling at all. The contrast between the crimson of his glove and your soft skin only serves to fuel the fire burning inside him. His suit is becoming uncomfortably tight but he’ll have to take care of that later.
“So I went back and visited my home town. Every year they have this HUGE baking contest. I’d always wanted to do it but I never had the confidence,” Your words are spilling out like water from a jug. You’re talking way too fast but you’re too cute for him to interrupt, especially when your hands start getting involved too as you gesture. “Well this time I did it! I entered my chocolate cake recipe, the one you helped me with. Guess what!!!”
You pull something out of your back pocket and happily show it off. You’re bouncing on your heels as his eyebrows wrinkle in slight confusion. You’re holding out a cheap blue ribbon. The fabric is polyester and one of the tails is already starting to fray. The plaque is flimsy plastic with a bold #1 printed on it. But you’re looking at it as though it was made of silk and gold. You gesture for him to take it and he does, regretfully removing his hand from you.
“I couldn’t have done it without you! So I wanted you to have the ribbon. Since we both kinda won it. I don’t want to take all the credit.” You beamed.
You… You came all the way back to the Tower when you still had time off to give him a shitty ribbon? He appreciates the gesture even while he looks at it with barely veiled disdain. What he really enjoys is your words. They were absolutely correct of course. Your old recipe was a stinker. He doubted you’d have even gotten an honorable mention without his impeccable palate helping you. But the real gift you brought him wasn’t the ugly ribbon. He’d just wanted to see you.
It wasn’t until later, after you’d had to leave, that he truly appreciated the ugly little ribbon. He ran it through his fingers as he lay naked in bed. It was cheap but it meant something.
We both won it.
He sits straight up as a realization hits him. He remembers painfully that stupid fake house they’d made for his fake childhood. How his bedroom had been so infuriatingly “perfect.” He remembered how much it hurt to talk about all the trophies he’d won. Well…
He looks down at the ribbon in his hands. It looked exactly like that fake shit they’d put in his room. Except this was real. He’d won this. You’d told him so. It was his, ugly as it was.
He clears off the table next to his bed, just to make a little spot for his new trophy.
#1
Yeah he fucking was.
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Remember Me
Cassian X Fem Reader
Summary: Reader's Grandmother's memory is deteriorating. When Gram has an aggressive episode, Reader falls apart at the realization she is losing her best friend. She misses family dinner and Cassian feels the devastation through the bond checks on her.
Content Warning: Memory loss of a loved one, Death of a loved one, crying.
A/N: I've been thinking about my favorite Angel lately and apparently I needed to get some feelings out. Some of these are based off real memories though its mostly fiction but the love for my gram is real! I cried a lot while writing this, so please be kind.
ACOTAR Masterlist
“What are you doing here?” My Gram sneered. I stood frozen mouth agape, Madja warned me things had begun deteriorating quickly. I just hadn’t realized that it was impacting her personality. Her voice brook me from my thoughts, “Well, what do you want? Why are you here?” I took a sharp breath for the first time in my entire life my gentle loving grandmother held ire in her eyes, and they were glaring down at me. It wasn’t always that way.
“I win!” A younger me howled as I cleared my hand of card. My grandmother smiled and snapped her fingers in mock disappointment.
She opened up her arms and I ran right into them, her scent of cookies we made earlier and clean soap filled my nose. Home. She was my home, “Good job, my lil’ Princess.” She kissed my cheek with her pink lipstick smudging my cheek.
I grinned widely, “Can we play again?”
Gram let me go and started reaching for the Cards, “Let’s play.”
My chest felt tight, and I doubled checked to make sure that the bond was shielded on my end, not wanting to worry your mate. Her face held nothing but rage and fear of a stranger in her room. It was like a whole different person. Shaking the surprise of her behavior I took a breath, and reached out to her, “Gram.”
She swatted my hand her she yelled, “Don’t touch me, where’s my granddaughter? What have you done with her?!” I froze and blinked and blinked once more. “Healer! Healer!” She looked back at me and the broken sound of her scream, “Get out! GET. OUT.”
I bolted out the door and ran into Madja who was rushing in as I was speeding out. She gripped my arms, “Are you alright?” the healer’s brows knitted together in concern. Not trusting myself to speak I shook my head. “Her condition is worsening. There is nothing I can do. She’s fading fast I fear she may only have a few more weeks with us.”
I stepped out of her grip as the news sunk in. I dodged her attempt at an embrace and sprinted home. My legs wanted to give out, but I pushed forward and was trying to keep myself together. I ran through the door, and once I was in the confines of my home, I slid down the front door and fell apart. Tucking my legs to my chest I buried my face into my knees as sobs racked through me. Memories of my childhood, flooding to surface.
Laughter filled the room as Gram, and I were baking cookies and dancing in her kitchen. As she spun me around, we heard the door slam open. Male voices filled the room and Gram gave me a knowing smile, as excitement bubbled over as Cassian, Azriel and Rhysand barged through the kitchen. I had met Rhys in school, and he introduced me to his brothers when they would come to visit Velaris the four of us becoming fast friends and Gram had instantly welcomed them in her home and required them to visit before they went back to the Illyrian camps whether I was here or not.
The moment I saw Cassian’s shaggy hair I leapt into his arms. Quick to hold me, he gripped onto me in a bone crushing hug his wings tucked in, He turned to face Rhys and Azriel. “See, Princess, here knows how to say hello.” He kissed my check and gave me a full grin, “Hello, Princess.” I rolled my eyes as he put me down. He heard Gram call me that once and had not stopped calling me that. There was a point where it stopped bothering me and I began to enjoy it.
“Stop flirting with my grandchild and give your gram a hug,” Cassian put me down and gave her a hug, kissing the top of her head as I hugged Rhys and Az. Gram laughed, “I swear every time you three come home you get bigger.”
Rhys and Az both walked over and hugged her as one of Az’s shadows sneaked him some cookie dough. Gram playfully swats at him, “The fresh ones are on the cooling rack.”
The boys all lunged for the cookies. When I elbowed them for one of my own, I frowned as they cleared the way and found they took them all. I sighed crossing my arms as two muscular hands caged me close to his chest delicious cookies in my line of sight. “Help me out, Princess.”
I smiled and grabbed both treats from his hands. He casually snaked his arms around my waist pulling me closer, whispering in my ear, “One day, when we are exchanging Gram’s cookies to accept the mating bond.”
I leaned my head on his chest taking a bite of the baked good, “Bold of you to assume we will be mated one day.”
He kissed the pointed part of my ear, “I’m not assuming smart ass. I’m just hopeful.”
There was a lot of laughter that caused my gaze to drift to the table where Gram was smirking behind the cards she was holding in her hand as Azriel’s shadows passed out the cards. I placed my hand over his, “Me too.”
~Later that day~
The house was almost quiet, the not so soft sounds of the three Illyrian’s snoring. I walked into the dining room where Gram patted the seat next to her. Taking the open seat her hand found mind giving it a comfort squeeze. “Time for girl talk.” I perked up as this was My favorite time of the day where it was just the two of us talking about all topics. She leaned over and watched the three soon to be warriors snoozing in her living room. “They are good males, Y/N. Promise me that you four will take care of each other when the time comes for me to see your grandfather again.”
My brow furrowed, “Of course. Though that won’t be until centuries, right?” Gram patted my hand.
“Yes, Princess, though I do miss your grandfather very much. I long to be in his arms again. Hopefully one day the mating bond will snap between you and a certain Illyrian when you are old and gray you will understand where I’m coming from.
I took a glance over at the sleeping long haired mail. His face so peaceful in his sleep. The stress of the world is no longer at the forefront of his brain. “Gram, do you think we could be mates?”
Gram grinned, “I do, it will snap in the right time.”
“I hope you’re there for the mating ceremony if it does.” I say leaning my head on her shoulder.
She laid her head on top of mine, her curls grazing my forehead. “Me too, Princess. Me too.”
I had no memories of moving from leaning on the door to lying down on the floor. I felt like I was drowning in my tears and was swept in the undertow. I heard a soft-landing upstairs and the boom of a male voice, “Princess!” He ran down the stairs, “Princess, where are- “He abruptly stop and then his hazel eyes meet mine, “Baby. What’s wrong, are you hurt?” He scanned me for injuries, and he cupped my face wiping my tears.
“Cass.” I hiccupped and he picked me up off the floor and carried me to the couch in our living room. “Why are you here?”
He snorted, “Leave it to my mate to ask me why I am in my own home.” He sat down and held me on his lap, my head laid on his shoulder and I could feel concern down the bond. “You put your shield down on the bond and I felt your overwhelming sadness. Then Madja told Rhys you visited Gram.” A fresh wave of tears started, and Cassian ran his fingers through my hair. “She wouldn’t tell him details but I could put it together.
“She’s dying Madja, said she only has months. Today she didn’t recognize me, “I whispered as Cass pulled me closer to him and pressed his lips to my forehead. “She asked what I did with her granddaughter. I’ve never seen such anger in her eyes.” I began to sob again and buried my face in Cassian’s neck.
Cassian rubbed my back and made sure to cocoon me in his wings, whispering soothing words in my ear. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. What can I do? Should I get Rhys and Az?” I shook my head.
“Just hold me. Please.” I clung closer to him gripping his leather tight and his free hand wrapped around mine.
“Of course, Princess.” Cassian kept rubbing against my skin and humming a little tune that lulled me to a dreamless slumber.
Cassian and I finally reached Gram’s table after the mating ceremony, she gave me a smile and kissed my cheek and Cassian kissed the top of her head. “You look lovely dear.” Gram patted my head confusion sparked in the elder fae female’s eyes. “What’s the occasion?”
I tilted my head, “Gram, we talked about this yesterday. My mating ceremony today.” I exchanged a worried glance to Cassian to find his face mirrored mine, his hand gripping mine a little more tight than normal.
Gram’s face lit up, “Oh how wonderful, I knew you would find your mate, who is the lucky fella.” She asked and her question was genuine and true.
Cassian bent down and gripped Gram’s hand, “It’s me Gram, Cassian. You’re favorite Illyrian.” He smiled.
She patted his cheek, “Well you’re so handsome, are you going to take care of my pretty princess,” clearly the memory of him asking for her blessing gone.
Cassian kissed her hand, “Yes and I will make sure she is well cared for ma’am.” It took everything in me not to burst into tears. I felt Az and Rhys behind me, and Cass must have too, “Rhys and Az will too. We made you promise to be there for each other. We’re going to keep it.”
Gram nodded her head in approval and saw the two handsome males behind me. “Oh hello, aren’t you two handsome fellas too.”
Rhys and Azriel gave a sad smile and instead of dancing the four of us sat around my favorite person and just talked about our lives and our adventures and she started talking about me but like she was a stranger. “My granddaughter, she’ll find a mate one day and I hope her mate loves her like you love yours, Sir.” She spoke to Cassian, and I could see his own heart breaking.
He squeezed my hand under the table, “I’m sure she will and the male or female that does will make her feel like the most important person in the world.” We spent the first night of our mating ceremony holding each other and crying over the interaction.
~A month Later~
We were having brunch with our friends, as I tried not to think of the looming cloud of losing my Gram. Rhys came into the dining room of the river house with a somber look on his face. His gaze met mine, and suddenly the food in my mouth turned to ash. “Madja just reached me. She says its urgent.” Dread pooled in my stomach. “It’s about Gram.”
Cassian’s wing curved around me, I swallowed my food and tried to level my breathing, I felt the cool kiss of Azriel’s shadow around my ankle. “It’s time, isn’t it?” Rhys’ eyes lined silver, and he nodded.
The four of us and Feyre were around her, her breathing was labored, but her eyes for the first time were cleared. Madja had informed me she is lucid and that she most likely had enough fight to say goodbye. She said it was a rare to see in memory loss severe as hers but it can happen. “My, you four have grown up.” Her eyes reach Feyre. “Rhys who is that lovely lady?”
Rhys let a tear fall down his cheek, and held out his hand for Feyre to take, “This is my mate, Gram. This is Feyre.”
Gram weakly raised her hand and Feyre took it. “You keep this boy in line okay, he always tries to get into trouble.”
She smiled and squeezed Rhys’ hand, “I will, Ma’am.”
She pointed to Rhys, “And you, take care of this beautiful female, don’t let her go.” He held her hand for his and he knelt to take it. “You have been an outstanding High Lord. Your momma, would be proud.” Cassian pulled me close as Rhys nodded and kissed her head, whispering in her ear.
Azriel stepped forward next and Gram’s smile brightened, “My shadowsinger.” He gripped his hands, “You are so strong and so brave, but it’s your kindness and your loyalty that sets you apart. And if a partner of yours can’t see that or appreciate you, they are not worth your time.” She cupped his face and he leaned into it kissing her palm, “Also tell those shadows of yours to stay away from my lil’ Princesses, cookie dough.” Azriel laughed through the tears and promised also kissing her forehead.”
Gram’s eyes met mine, then Cassian’s as if she could see the gold bond that tethers our hearts together, “I always knew you two would be together.” She smiled and opened her arms and Cassian released his grip and I ran into her arms. Sobbing into her night gown. “Oh lil’ princess, don’t cry over this old bag of bones. Your grandfather, came to me yesterday, and told me to come home soon.” I sobbed hard and she soothed my hair. “Shhh, Cassian come here.” My general steps forward and she grips his hand. “I am so proud of you. My sweet Cassian. You have grown into a fine male. Take care of her you hear me?”
“Don’t worry Gram, our Princess is well cared for. I’ll make sure it stays like that.”
“Good.” She pulls me away from her shoulder and walks her shoulder, “Remember what I said all those years ago. Take care of your boys. You’re all each other has now.” She coughs and I gripped her hand in mine. “If there is one thing, I’m most proud of in this life. It’s being your grandmother.”
I whimpered and sniffled, “Being your granddaughter is mine.”
“I love you more than the stars in the sky, my lil’ Princess.”
‘I love you too.” I whispered as I held her hand in my mind and watched as she leaned back her breathing labored, as if her conversation with us cost her so much. Cassian gripped my shoulder as we watched as her breathing slowed and it stopped all together. Her hand loosened in mine, and I couldn’t hear her heartbeat anymore, and the scream that erupted from my chest was broken.
Cassian grabbed me and pulled me to his chest, rocking me as his own tears soaked my hair. The room was filled with sniffles and hiccups for what felt like hours and Cassian had held me tightly.
It was Rhys’ voice soft and somber that pulled me away from Cassian’s chest to look at my High Lord, my brother, “Cauldron save you. Mother hold you.”
He walks toward the bed grabbing the blanket, and Az voice joins him, “Pass through the gates, and smell that immortal land of milk and honey.”
Cassian was the one who joined next as Rhys raised the blanket tenderly over her face, “Fear no evil. Feel no pain.”
I wiped my tears as there was a pause and the three of them looked at me and I felt a light hand intertwined with mine. Feyre looked at me eyes lined with silver understanding in her gaze as she led me to my grandmother and through my tears I finished the prayer, “Go and enter Eternity.”
#cassian x reader#cassian acotar#acotar#acotar fanfiction#cassian x you#cassian imagine#cassian fanfic#hurt/comfort#i cried while writing this
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Heavenly
18+ Minors DNI
Danny Wagner/Reader
Summary: Danny's just gotten home from tour, and you show each other just how much you’ve missed one another.
Warnings: smut, kinda fluffy, sweet sex, dirty talk, pet names, dom/sub undertones, Danny being a needy mess, marking, protected penetrative sex, a little bit of overstimulation.
Word Count: 3.6k.
A/N: Hello, everyone! Here is a completely self-indulgent fic about post-tour sex, featuring a slightly subby Danny (my fav). I hope you enjoy!
You weren't quite sure what had woken you up. Perhaps, you were gently roused from your sleep by the distant hum of traffic from the street in front of the house. Or, perhaps, it was the toasty rays of sunshine streaming through the sheer curtains covering the bedroom window, kissing your eyelids. Either way, it didn't really matter. You were more than content to be exactly where you were. After all, waking up and finding yourself tangled in your boyfriend's arms was a delightful thing, and even more so that particular morning.
Danny had returned home from a few months of extensive touring just last night and oh, how you had missed him. While a few months away from your lover seemed so trivial in comparison to the grand scheme of things, it had always felt like your world was devoid of a certain piece of joy when he was gone. Of course, if you could, you would go with him. You would sleep in a bunk and follow him to the ends of the earth and lose your hearing every night if he so much as asked you to. And, he has. However, life had its own ways and more often than not, you had to stay at home when your sweet Daniel went on tour.
Your heart ached incontestably for him when he was away, but it was these close, serene moments that made that ache more bearable.
After a few moments of moments of cherished stillness, you blinked the fuzz from your eyes and turned your head to see if Danny was awake, yet. You surmised he was still asleep; his pretty eyes were still closed and his breath was coming in slow, steady drifts. His arms--in their sleepy state of being--tightened around your middle and pulled you closer. Maybe, he was beginning to gain a bit of consciousness. But you didn't dare make it known to him that you, too, were awake. No, you wanted him to rest as long as his body would let him; he needed it.
You let your head rest comfortably against your pillow, burrowing your face into the soft cotton pillowcase and closing your eyes once more. Basking in the lovely little wave of affection his simple movement sent crashing over your heart, you sighed softly. It had been far too long since you had gotten to wake up with him by your side.
You weren't sure how much time had passed before you heard Danny's low murmur, "Honey? You awake?"
"Yeah," came your reply, as you drew your hands towards your body and weaved your fingers with his. "Sleep alright?"
Danny's forehead fell to your shoulder, his curls--made unruly by sleep--tickling the skin left uncovered by the worn hem of your pajama shirt. He pressed a few gentle kisses there, punctuated by a few soft words in response to your question, "Amazing. Missed our bed... missed you."
It was then that you decided to free yourself from his hold, unlatching your arms and untangling your legs. He let out an adorably disgruntled huff at the loss of physical contact, but you made it up to him by rolling over so that you were face to face, and embracing him again. In what was clearly yet another effort to get as close as possible, he nuzzled his nose into the skin of your neck and pressed his chest to yours.
You brought your fingers to his curls, tangling in and gently rubbing your fingertips against his scalp--just how you knew he liked it--and he gave you a little hum of appreciation. Then, you settled with each other once more, staying blissfully still and intertwined until Danny stirred again. He tilted his head upwards and planted a kiss to your jaw, then another to your cheek, and another to your temple. Before he could land another, you turned your head, causing your nose to brush against his. You saw a sweet smile form on his lips and then, he was kissing you sweetly. He held you tightly, with silver-painted fingertips digging into your skin, as if he were afraid you'd float away if he didn't keep a steady hand on you. And that was alright; you knew he had missed you, and that he needed you close. You held onto him just as tightly.
You pulled away after what was hopefully long enough for Danny to have gotten his fill. You had always found yourself a little bit dumbstruck by the fervor with which he kissed you. When you spoke, your voice came in soft puffs of air, "You wanna just say in bed?"
Danny nodded assuredly, leaning in once again, and then giving a pitiful little noise when you stopped him with a hand on his chest.
"Can I brush my teeth, first?" you asked.
"Do you have to?"
You giggled. "Well, I would like to."
"Fine." He freed you, pulling himself away and sitting up. "I guess I should, too."
So, you dutifully hauled yourself out of bed and Danny followed begrudgingly. You and Danny brushed your teeth side by side (per his sweetly-voiced request), shoulders touching and elbows bumping. When you were finished he hurried back to bed while you splashed water on your face and ran a comb through our hair. And moments later, you were back in the bedroom, settling besides Danny.
He was on you in what must have been even shorter than an instant, his lips pressed to yours and his fingers hooked beneath your jaw. You pressed you body to his, and he deepened the kiss a little with a tilt of his head. Danny kissed nothing like he played. Not raw or loud or rough. No, he kissed you ardently, as if he wanted to drink of you. You'd gladly offer to him every drop.
It wasn't long before you were practically melting in his arms, your bones going all gooey with affection and frankly, unbridled need. Beneath your fingers, you felt his muscles relax, too. At that point, the only thing keeping you and Danny upright was your desperation to have one another as close as could be.
In what was a swift and rather urgent motion, you swung a leg over his thighs--adorably clad in blue plaid pajama pants--and settled yourself in his lap. It drew from him a soft noise, and it warmed your stomach a little. It had been far too long since you'd had him like this; all willing eyes and needy hands.
He let his tongue poke at your lips, asking your permission as if you could ever deny him anything he wanted. You opened your mouth and then his tongue was slotting against yours, relearning what he'd been without for months and effectively pulling all the breath from your lungs. He tasted of minty toothpaste, and you were sure you did, as well.
Abruptly, you tore away from him to shove your fingers into his curls and tilt his head. You began to press kisses to the skin of his neck, intoxicating and still smelling pleasantly from his shower before bed. He made another one of those delicate noises of his, and it had a gush of slick flowing forth and dampening your underwear.
Unable to really help yourself, you bared your teeth right beneath his Adam's apple, biting quick and soothing the spot with your tongue. It had been too long since you'd been able to mark that lovely tan skin of his, too long since you'd been able to look at those marks with a possessive kind of pride when they peeked out from beneath the hem of his shirt. You were absolutely depraved, you realized, as you moved further down and sucked until you saw a satisfactory shade of red.
He gave a pleasured whine As much as you delighted in giving him a few marks, you knew he enjoyed receiving them even more. His pleasure was evident in the ways his cheeks were flushed and how his bottom lip was pulled between his teeth and how his breath came and went in stilted huffs.
You spoke in a sultry sigh, "It's been a while since you've had a few marks, hasn't it?" He nodded in response, you continued. "Did you miss it? Having bruises all over your pretty throat, that is."
Delighting in Danny's shuddery intake of breath, you grinned against his skin and left him with another bruise against his collarbone before pulling away to admire him. Your Daniel was precious; much more so than a glinting gem hanging from a gold chain or the sweetest and oldest bottle of red wine. No, he was as valuable as freshly-spun stardust.
And he was beautiful beyond anything you had ever seen, especially so when he was lying beneath you with your marks on his neck. When he cast his eyes upon you--as sweet as honey and oh so pliant--your core wept for him. With his messy hair and swollen lips, he was the picture of everything lascivious.
You loved him so.
"You're heavenly, Daniel, you know that?"
"Oh my gosh, baby," he objected with a bashful grin that tugged at your heartstrings a little. "If you don't stop saying things like that, this is gonna be over before it starts."
You giggled as you leaned back down and pressed your lips to his for only a moment, before slipping your fingers beneath his shirt and pushing upwards. He tossed his shirt away, before ridding you of your own. He reconnected your lips, his hands traveling hotly from the curve of your waist to the swell of your breasts. He thumbed at your nipples and the action sent little tingles racing up your spine.
When you gasped softly against his mouth, Danny pulled away and teased you, "Feeling a little sensitive?"
"Maybe a little." You shrugged, squirming as he took one of your buds between his forefinger and thumb and gave it a gentle roll.
He shifted and sat up, then began to litter kisses along your chest; between your breasts, upon your collarbone, and just above your ribs. Your eyes fell closed and you allowed yourself a moment to bask in the warmth of his lips on your skin. His kisses moved to your neck, and his hand traveled from your waist to the small of your back. Eventually, his mouth found yours again, and he kissed you with such a need that it pulled an noise from the back of your throat.
You slid one of your hands between your bodies and pushed against his chest, guiding him to lay back against the bed without your lips never once leaving his. With a steady hold on your waist, Danny drew your pelvis flush to his own. You gladly took his hint, tentatively grinding your hips into his and delighting in the feeling of his hardening cock against your core.
With a particularly firm jerk from you, Danny broke the kiss to moan sweetly against your lips. Driven by the sound, you hastened your movements and breathed out a whine in return. He worked to match your pace, rolling his hips and sending a warm rush of arousal straight to your stomach.
Then you found yourself on your back, with Danny trailing kisses along the skin of your torso as he moved downwards. Your thighs fell open and he took his place between them, swiftly slipping your sleep shorts and underwear from your body. He pulled you close with his arms wrapped around your hips, then nipped at the delicate skin of your inner thigh.
"Fuck- Danny," you whimpered out.
He chuckled a little as he bit gently again, right below your hipbone. Your hand shot down into his hair as you writhed in his hold, your chest alight with apleasured pain. He moved to your other thigh, peppering the skin there with kisses and nibbles wherever he saw fit.
"Some nights," Danny started, his thumb rubbing at your skin. "This was all I could think about."
You spread your legs wider, prompting him to continue with a breathy, "Yeah?"
"Yeah. I missed your pretty noises- and the taste..." he trailed off, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. "It was fucking miserable."
"Oh, my poor baby," you breathed. "It must've been so hard to not have anything to do with that needy mouth of yours, huh?" His breathing hitched pitifully as he nodded, and your fingers tightened in his hair. "Show me how much you missed me, sweet boy."
Without another word, his tongue was between your folds and he reacquainting himself with your taste. You moaned, your head falling to the side of your pillow as your hips squirmed in his hold. His tongue worked to unravel you, sloppy and astoundingly desperate as he did. You'd missed this, too; Danny had a mouth like no other. You figured it was some sort of divine intervention to have been blessed with a man who was as eager as Danny was to take you apart with his tongue.
He sucked your clit between his lips, babying it with rapid flicks of his tongue and drawing a sharp whine from your throat.
"That- ah, Danny, that's good."
He let out a soft moan, the vibrations of the sound travelling from the bottom of your spine to the tips of your toes. He pulled away from your clit with a sloppy suckle and a rattling inhale, then dove back in. His tongue shot down with a squelch, paying special attention to your entrance with pendulous motions. Pleasantly, the tip of his nose touched your clit, drawing an unrestrained moan from your throat.
Danny returned the sound with one of his own, low and shuddery. You glanced downwards, wanting to catch a glimpse of his sweet eyes, and you did, but you also saw the desperate jerking of his hips against the mattress. The sight was too much to bear; you tossed your head back with a shaky breath and sang his praises to the ceiling, "You're doing so good, baby. Fuck- you were made to eat my cunt, weren't you?"
With a muffled, drenched groan, Danny nodded. He then angled his tongue upwards and began to lick circles over your clit, messy and determined. You felt a familiar and always-welcomed heat beginning to pool in your stomach, and you knew you were approaching your orgasm much more rapidly than you would have had it been any other night. But who could blame you? Danny's divine lips hadn't brought you any pleasure in months; you couldn't help that you were a little eager for him.
With a firm yank on the curls between your fingers, you forced him upwards and away from your core. He whimpered, his eyelids fluttering and his tongue lapping your wetness from his lips and chin. You throbbed, both from denying yourself and arousal.
"As amazing as that was, I want to come on your cock," you purred, releasing his hair and allowing him to sit up. "You want that, sweetheart?"
"Always," he whined, already hurrying to take his pants and underwear off.
Within seconds, Danny had tossed the rest of his clothes away, retrieved a condom from the bedside table, and slipped it on. He wrapped his hands around your waist and dragged you close, your thighs cradling his hips. He didn't waste a single second lining himself up and sliding in. He'd been without you for months; he couldn't bare the thought of waiting any longer. With a debauched moan that caused your stomach to stir, he buried himself to the hilt.
"Fuck," you gasped. "I forgot how pretty you sound."
Danny's response to your words was a breathy little sound, and you saw that his cheeks had flushed a silky pink. He began to move his hips, taking absolutely no time to build up to a rapid, shuddery pace of movement. With his fingernails digging oh so deliciously into your skin, he hauled you closer. He needed you as close as he could possibly manage, and that alone drove you to open you thighs to him even more as soft moans fell from your parted lips.
"You're so tight," he gasped out. "So tight and so warm and wet and- shit, honey."
He gave a brutal thrust, then, and the hard tip of his cock nudged that spot deep inside, sending bolts of pleasure up your spine. You clenched around him with a whine, reaching out for him. When your fingers found purchase on his forearm, he shook you off, and instead laced your fingers together and held them tight.
You were captivated by him, both in how he held you and how he made you feel. He was a summer's night thunderstorm, striking quick and then sounding off with pretty moans and sharp gasps. His movements were practiced, yet made unsteady by the force of his desperation. That didn't matter, though, you were just as desperate as he was, and unable to do anything but squeeze around him and bask in him, who you'd so sorely missed.
Then, he faltered. His hands abandoned their hold on you and pitched forward, bracing himself on the mattress. His pace didn't slow, however. He endured, thrusting with the same, hasty, yet shaky force. When his head dropped to rest on your collar bone, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled his chest to yours. He sang a sweet song of pleasured noises and curses into your skin and you turned your head towards his, desperate to hear more.
You could feel the tremble of his muscles between your fingers and you stroked the warm, soft skin of his back, purposefully low to run your fingers over his dimples. He was close; you knew all of his signs. You could hear it in the pitch of his voice, feel it in the wavering rhythm of his hips.
You asked, "Are you gonna come, baby?"
"Not yet- wanna keep going, honey, please. Don't want it to be over."
"Okay, baby, okay," you breathed. "Let's switch?"
Danny nodded, pushing himself up and pulling out of you with a hitched breath. He flipped over, settling up against the headboard and tugging needily at your waist. You went, swinging a leg over his hips and gently sinking down onto his weeping cock.
Once fully seated, you brushed a few stray hairs from Danny's forehead and spoke to him gently, "There we go. Is that better?"
"Yeah," Danny responded, his breath ragged.
"Good," you smiled. "Relax, sweet boy. We're gonna take it nice and slow, now."
You began to move, rising and falling leisurely, but forcefully. Noises began to tumble from Danny's lips almost instantly, and you just barely got to see his glossy eyes before he buried his face in your neck. Your core gave a tortured throb, and you stroked at his hair. You had always found it both endearing and delectable that when he felt so good he could barely stand it, he took comfort in you.
You couldn't even help yourself, then; you dropped down in a particularly hard manner and rolled your hips, allowing the blunt head of his cock to nudge fiercely against your g-spot. He let loose a lovely, broken cry, his fingertips digging into where they'd come to hold your waist. You relished in the sting of it.
You kept up, keeping your movements slow but ruthlessly firm, drawing the most delicious sounds from his mouth. They were depraved, sobbing expressions of bliss, and you had to valiantly fight against the warm tingles throughout your body and the urge to just take him hard and fast.
Much to your relief, however; it didn't take long for Danny to mumble a warning into your skin, "I'm close."
"Please, honey- please, get me there," he whimpered.
You slid your hands between your bodies and tilted his head upwards with your fingers hooked beneath his chin. His lips were parted and his eyelids hung low, looking so fucked-out, your heart skipped a beat. As you graced him with another roll of your hips, his fell shut with a breathy groan. You clicked your tongue; you wanted to see those pretty eyes of his.
"Sweetheart," you called to him. "I want you to look at me when you come. Can you do that?"
Always so willing to please, he forced his eyes open. You grinned and praised him, "Good, baby. Come whenever you're ready, okay?"
You managed to rise and fall only once more before Danny was coming hard and with a broken, honeyed cry. You worked him through it with gentle movements, all while he held you so tight, you knew there would be fingertip-shaped bruises in your skin, later. You began to slow, trying to allow him to catch his breath and come down, but he jerked his hips upwards.
"Keep going, baby, please," he rushed out. "I wanna make you come. Please? Can I, please?"
You picked up your pace again, and he sobbed beautifully from what you knew was overstimulation, but brought his hand to your core regardless. His fingers slipped between your folds and began to circle over your clit, all while you ground against his softening cock. It was rushed and sloppy and totally euphoric and you couldn't even give a warning before you reached your peak, fueled by the motions of his fingers and the wracked noises falling from his lips.
For a moment, you and Danny were nothing but still, holding each other close. And you were silent, save for the ragged intakes of breath and the barely-audible sound of your fingers roving comfortingly over each other's skin.
He was the first to break the silence, giving you a kiss and murmuring, "I missed you so much."
"I missed you, too."
"Can we just... Stay here? For just a little bit."
You tucked a piece of hair behind his ear, giving him a smile. "Whatever you want, sweet boy."
#danny wagner#greta van fleet#jake kiszka#josh kiszka#sam kiszka#gvf#danny wagner x reader#danny wagner fic#danny wagner smut#greta van fleet fic#greta van fleet smut#greta van smut#danny wagner x you#danny wagner x y/n#danny gvf smut#danny gvf
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Telling Sanji and Zoro to Go Faster/Deeper(NSFW)
Black Fem Reader in Mind
CW: Sex, also breaking the bed because that’s my new favorite thing to think about
Ft. Sanji, Zoro (seperate)
Sanji
You’re right in his ear , he has you nearly in a matting press from how deep he was—
“You feel so good! ‘So good!” His voice was so hot and Whiney on your neck drooling from how much he was pumping into you.
But you wanted more. Everything about Sanji in this moment you wanted more of and you usually never had to request what you wanted because Sanji Just knew. He always knew, he knew your body like he knew food.
Maybe something was in the air though because now you can’t get enough
“MORE, SANJI DEEPER!”
He never heard you ever ask for him to adjust anything he’s doing so his hips stuttered a bit as your request.
However you may or may not have activated something new in this man from your begs and cries for him.
“PLEASE FAST—AH!”
Your needy blonde waisted no time quickening his pace, your breath was knocked out of you from each thrust, your breasts were barely contained from his hips snapping back at you with force it all was too good. He rose up to get a good steady hold of your ankles, decorated with the golden jewlery with his name on it, your toes curled with impatience to feel more speed, and he gave you just that.
“Just. Like. This? Ah-sweetheart!?”
You felt the headboard bang with vigor on the wall, you seen stars trying to look through you blurred vision of tears, Sanji was just too good at making you feel what you needed to feel.
He knew if he pushed your legs behind your head he could get hit a spot that would send you over the edge and so he held your thighs down so he could make you take all that he had,
And feel how deeper he was.
“Oh my fuck—!” You whined out but it was muffled by Sanji’s lips meeting yours, he licked and sucked on your tongue, your felt his damp wavy hair rub against your cheek, trying so hard to get eye contact with him, but with each thrust you couldn’t help but to shut your eyes tightly.
“You’re so beautiful…fuck you make me feel so good baby..”
Your inner thighs were slapping so harshly against his , bouncing off the wooden walls of your room you couldn’t help but to ignore the worn bed frame below you.
“FUCK!” Sanji groaned snapping his hips one last time before the end of the bed slammed to the floor. He should have known he wasn’t just hearing things. But fuck it, he thought. His princess was looking too pretty all worn out and panting with your arm covering your face, not even caring the broken bed .
Once you both were done, it was probably the first time Sanji ever put you to sleep RIGHT after sex which boosted his ego just a bit.
He’d have to do more of that again
Zoro
That’s a dangerous game.
Zoro knew his strength so it didn’t bother him to have to hold back when he is on top of you, tonight though he felt very lazy to do most of the work, he was laying on his back watching you fuck yourself on his cock. His right hand would roam all over your body, stopping at your jiggling breast to squeeze them so firmly, thumb pressing on your stiff nipple.
“Getting tired?”
“N-no.” You halted your movement to breathe. You were tired and just wanted Zoro to take you himself, but you knew how tired your big boy was and your selfish needy ass he told you to fuck yourself on his cock if you wanted to cum. His cocky smirk slowly turned into a small frown, his eyebrows furrowed scanning your face before looking down at your dripping cunt.
His hand glided to your breast, his middle finger leaving a trail against your skin to give a firm squeeze making you gasp. Zoro used the opportunity to rise up and kiss you, his tongue not missing a beat in flicking and wrapping around yours.
Your body began to move on its own earning a curl of a lip from your greenhaired boyfriend. Thats when he pulled away to grip your hips to pump up inside you.
“Zo!” You nearly could have loss balance if his hands werent keeping u steady, his hips bucking inside you until your mouth agaped and your toes curling slightly, “F-faster!”
It wasn’t Something you usually request, its always “slow down” or “wait wait” but who was zoro to deny such a request?
But he needed a better position.
“So fucking pretty.” He huffed holding your arms down cris crossed on your tummy, legs over his shoulder, and eyes rolled back you felt all of him, “You always get like this, too fucking lazy to do anything huh? Need me to take care of everything for you, my pretty Pillow Princess.”
As much as you wanted to argue back the only words that were exchanged were “FASTER!”
And faster he went until you felt the bed shift. You and Zoro both paused at the sudden dip in the middle of the bed, staring at each other blankly partially out of breath zoro chuckles
“Still want me to go faster?…because i can keep fucking you into this broken bed…”
#one piece#TimikosSanji#TimikosZoro#one piece headcanons#black reader#one piece smut#one piece x female reader#sanji#sanjionepiece#sanji imagine#sanji x black reader#sanji x reader#one piece x black!reader#zoro headcanons#black foot sanji#zoro hcs#one piece scenario#female reader#sanji smut#x female reader#luffy headcanons#ronoroa zoro#one piece zoro#zoro x reader#zoro smut#op zoro#zoro x chubby reader#zoro x black reader#zoro x female reader
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"I Found You (too)" - EREN/READER - REINCARNATION AU (chapter 2)
eren/reader
reincarnation & memory loss
rating: T
word count: 2378
<- CH 1 | CH 3 ->
There’s a weight against your chest when you wake up.
A solid weight.
It’s warm. Soft. And it lifts, just slightly, before something tickles your nose.
“Mrr…”
As you blink awake, two wide yellow eyes with pupils in straight slits stare at you.
The cat, with brown striped fur and a single canine sticking out from between its lips, moves forward to nuzzle its face against your cheek.
When you don’t react, it yawns, stretches, and then crawls off your chest before hobbling on three legs to the end of the bed. It sits down, looks back at you, and then hops off the bed with another “mrr” as if to say: “It’s time to get up.”
You blink away the sleep in your eyes as you sit up and glance around the room.
When you’d fallen asleep last night the room had been unfamiliar.
And now, as you’re waking up, it’s the exact same.
It’s unfamiliar.
But there are photographs of you and Mr. Kruger on the walls. A shelf full of books that look very well-read. A pile of laundry. And a warmth that surrounds you, immediately making you feel calm.
This place is home.
Even if Mr. Kruger hadn’t told you that last night, you felt like you’d still know.
Without needing to be told, you’d just know that this place was home.
A small home. No war, pain, or death. A warm bed. A cat and the smell of good food wafting from down the hall.
It won’t last long- this beautiful dream, because the beautiful dreams never last long. So you make up your mind that you’re going to cherish it. Every moment of this dream you’re going to cherish.
The cat sticks its head back into the room:
“Meeeooowwwwwwww…”
The dream is too nice to let it go to waste.
“Good morning, Mr. Kruger!” The sound of your cheery voice pulls Eren out of his sleep. He grumbles as he squeezes his eyes shut, pulling the crisp white hospital sheets over his head.
You laugh in response and he hates it so damn much.
Your dumb laugh.
Your stupid smile.
The way you always greet him with a ‘Good morning, Mr. Kruger’ as you pull open his window and say:
“It’s a beautiful day out!”
Yeah. That.
Fucking hell it’s awful.
And yet he still lowers the sheets and, with a groan, he sits up.
His head is pounding, it always is, and he takes in a deep breath as he forces the pain to continue.
…don’t heal, don’t heal, don’t heal…
It’s been his mantra for two weeks.
His missing leg is an annoyance, but his missing eye is a pain. He constantly has a headache as his body begs him to let it grow back. To fix itself. To regenerate and return him to his full potential. But he can’t do it yet. He has to wait for the perfect opportunity and lay low until then.
So, the headache.
And because of the headache, pretty much the only good thing you bring him:
“Here,” you say with that same cheery smile as you hand him a paper cup holding three pills.
Blue, antibiotics.
Chalk white, a multivitamin.
And of course, red, for the pain.
Did he have his suspicions that that wasn’t all those pills were for? Sure.
Was he about to compromise his position by questioning it? No.
He’d play the part of the good little traumatized soldier as he waited for Zeke to contact him. Then things would really get going and he’d kill every last Marleyan in sight.
“Can you hold your arm out for me?” You ask, jotting something down on your clipboard as your words ooze with fake kindness.
Eren fucking hates it.
He knows what you really think of him. What all Marleyans think of anyone that had the misfortune of being born Eldian.
You think he’s a devil.
And you’re right, he supposes. He is a devil. Which is exactly why, as he holds out his arm so you can measure his blood pressure, he fantasizes about the day he can burn this hospital to the ground with you and every other person that’s been poking and prodding him for the last two weeks trapped within it.
“There you go again,” you say with a lighthearted laugh, “slipping off into one of your daydreams. Where are you always slipping off to, Mr. Kruger?”
He normally doesn’t reply to you because there’s no point.
He prefers your days off when one of the more quiet nurses has this job.
Despite it, for some reason, he answers you. With a short sigh, he says:
“Somewhere nice.”
You remove the rubber strap from his arm and go back to your clipboard. “I know what you mean,” you tell him with a soft smile. “I like to go somewhere nice too.”
Eren has a feeling these two nice places are very, very different.
“You take a suspiciously long time with Mr. Kruger every morning,” Myra tells you as the two of you walk down the hall on the way to the break room.
“I- I do not!”
“Yeah, okay.” She rolls her eyes as your cheeks flush pink.
“I’m just being thorough. Unlike you I take pride in my work.”
Her loud laugh bounces off of the bleak walls. “Did you know that you always get feisty when you’re being defensive? All you’re doing is proving my point~”
“Well, sometimes he can be- difficult. Everyone knows that.” You say, not wanting to argue with her and further “prove her point”.
“Yeah,” she scoffs, “not with you though.”
You roll your eyes.
“Maybe he’s got a crush on you or something.”
Immediately you stop walking.
“What?” Myra asks.
“That’s- I-... don’t joke about that. Someone might hear you.”
Myra scoffs. “Who gives a shit.” She dismisses with a casual wave of her hand. “That kinda thing happens all the time.”
She’s right, of course. Plenty of the soldiers at the hospital have indicated that they’ve developed-... something for those caring for them. It was natural, you supposed, given the trauma they’d experienced in battle. A terrible experience like that followed by someone treating your injuries, regardless of how cruel they may be while they do it, would seep into someone’s mind and turn into-...
Whatever it turns into.
It’s a mess, regardless. A mess that you would never let yourself fall into.
“It doesn’t matter if it happens all the time.” You mutter as you storm past Myra, “I could still get in trouble.”
She rolls her eyes again as she catches up with you. “Only if you do something about it.”
“I wouldn’t.”
“Good.” She says simply. “And not just because he’s your patient. You know what happens to people that get tangled up with Eldians.”
The way she says it makes your breath catch.
The reminder always does and why wouldn’t it?
You do know. You know exactly what happens with people who get “tangled up” with Eldians because you’ve seen it first hand and you’ll never forget it.
No matter how much you wish you could, you'll never forget the way your brother’s body hung limp against the fence outside the internment zone. The way he was left there, for days, to rot against the wall. The way the birds picked at the skin of his face, his fingers, tearing away bits of flesh to the point that his body was turned into something else entirely.
You’ll never forget the words ‘ELDIAN LOVER’ painted in deep crimson against the brick wall behind him.
“You have to make something of yourself.” Your mother had told you that night as she sobbed for her loss. Not the loss of her son, but for the loss of your family’s reputation. “Make something of yourself that we can be proud of,” she cried, “make them forget about him… you owe it to your family…”
Flesh. Rope. Red spray paint.
Your stomach turns at the memory.
And suddenly, you’re no longer interested in your lunch.
It traps you in a daze for the rest of the day.
It always does.
The reminder of why you worked so hard to get this job, why you slave away working extra hours and rarely ever taking a day off unless it’s absolutely necessary. You had to work hard for your family. For their reputation. So you could undo the sins of your brother and make up for what he’d done.
It exhausts you.
Your life here exhausts you.
You’re supposed to hate your older brother, you know you are because he betrayed you. He betrayed your whole family and put them in danger for his own selfishness.
It would have been easy for your whole family to be executed for what he’d done, even though none of you had any idea it was happening. You could have been seen as accomplices and punished as such. The only reason you were still alive was because your family had been fortunate enough to pay for your lives. And your lives were a hefty payment.
You’d grown up in a large house in the countryside with pretty dresses and expensive toys. Servants who did whatever you wanted and enough money that you’d never know what it felt like to go to bed hungry.
Your father had been a banker.
Had.
Because after your brother’s affair with an Eldian maid was found out, your family lost it all.
So, you should have been mad at him. You should have been livid. You should have hated him and spent the rest of your life cursing his existence for what it’d brought you.
But you didn’t.
Despite where your life was after all of it. Despite the pressure that was suddenly put on your shoulders. Despite every moment of agony after it. You couldn’t be mad at your brother.
Because…
…your brother had been in love.
“I’m leaving soon.” He told you, the night before he was found out. The night before he was hung on that wall and left to rot.
But neither of you knew that would be his fate. So you just scowled as you clutched your doll tightly to your chest, watching as he darted around the room and packed his things.
“Father said you don’t start university for three more years.” You pointed out.
“I don’t.” He laughed. “But I’m not going to university.”
“You aren’t?”
“No.” He stopped in front of you and knelt down so he could look you in the eye. “Can you keep a secret?”
You nodded.
“Promise?”
You nodded harder.
He chuckled softly before he pulled a ring out of his pocket. “I’m getting married.”
You gasped. “To who?”
He got a far-off look in his eyes as the smile on his face turned to something else. Something softer. As if he was suddenly swept up in a daydream that took him somewhere completely new. “I can’t tell you.”
“Why not?”
“Because I-...” He sighed as he slid the ring into his pocket. “Look,” the wishful expression he had been wearing slipped away as his gaze hardened. “Sometimes adults are wrong.”
“No, they’re not.”
“Yes.” He said pointedly. “They are.”
You stayed quiet.
“Sometimes they’re wrong and the reason they’re wrong is that they’ve never taken a moment to think about what they’ve been taught. I’m going away soon, but don’t ever forget that, okay? Don’t you ever forget to think for yourself when someone tells you something, no matter who they are or how much confidence they have when they say it.”
You scowled. “What does any of that have to do with you getting married?”
He laughed as the smile returned to his face. “It has everything to do with it.” He patted your head and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead before he went back to packing.
As he packed he told you about the life he was leaving to create for himself and his special person.
A small home, just big enough for two. Far away from war and pain and death. Somewhere they could be happy. A warm bed. Homemade food. Maybe even a cat, if they found one that was nice enough to keep.
“You should have more than one!” You told him as he described the kitten he would find in this made-up fantasy, tucked under a rose bush in a rainstorm.
“I should, shouldn’t I! How many cats should I have?”
“Four!!” You exclaimed with a giggle.
“Four!?!” He said in mock surprise, which had you laughing all over again.
It was a beautiful dream. A fantasy.
But that’s all it would ever be because nice places like that, no matter how desperately you wished they could, didn’t exist.
Still. It’s where you always found yourself, when you stared for a little too long out the window, when you walked home after a hard day, or when you struggled to fall asleep at night.
That small house in a faraway world without war. Without pain. Without even death.
It was warm.
And it was where you found yourself.
You push open the door to Mr. Kruger’s room with his evening medicine. You’re smiling as you carry it to him. Smiling at the world you’ve created in your head. A special escape, just for you.
“You’re late.” Mr. Kruger tells you as he closes his book.
“Yeah,” you say softly. “Sorry, I had to go somewhere.”
“Hm.” He hums. “Where?” You don’t know if he actually cares. Maybe he’s just in one of his rare moods where he wants to make brief conversation.
You pass him a paper cup full of pills and the tips of your fingers brush against his. Just the tips.
It sends a rush of warmth up your arm.
You watch as the paper cup meets his lips and he tilts his head back.
A small home. No war, pain, or death. A warm bed. Good food. Cats.
You slip away just long enough for him to finish swallowing his pills and when he lowers the cup, you finally answer him:
“...I went somewhere nice…”
It’s a shame, really.
A shame that you’ll only ever be able to visit such a nice place in your dreams…
like this post to be added to the tag list for new parts
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Caption Series - Empty Bets
"You kidding? Nah faggot I ain't giving you this back. This body was meant to fuck pussy and pass on its godlike genes, not be wasted on a fairy like you." Marcus sneered as he flexed.
Brad had a worried look in his eyes as he looked up at his own body. "Please Marcus, you can't just steal my body like that! It's not right! I put 10 years of work into looking like that, not you!"
Marcus strode up to Brad and grabbed the front of the now smaller man's clothes. He lifted him off the ground with ease, almost a foot off the floor because of their height difference. "Listen here. I'm Brad Manning now, not you. You were wasting this on being a faggot, so I'm putting shit right." He spat out. "Can't believe I was friends with a closet homo this whole goddamn time, makes me sick."
"But..." Brad could barely get a word out as he was forced to dangle off the floor. "What about us? I'm your best friend Marcus, are you really going to throw that all away over this?? I've told you so many times I'll help you workout and you always said no!"
Marcus rolled his eyes. "Well I guess you ruined that by being a fag didn't you?" There was a little flicker of sadness in his eyes, but that was soon replaced by anger. "I'm gonna miss you man, but I can't be seen around a cocksucker. Unless that cocksucker has a pair of tits!" Marcus laughed.
"Would you at least put me fucking down then asshole?" Brad scowled, too angry at Marcus to mourn the loss of their friendship.
Marcus' eyes flicked down to the front of Brad's shirt as the cogs in his mind started to turn. He still had a little lingering magic from what he used to switch them, just enough for what he was thinking of doing. "Now I'm on the outside, my old body really was a piece of crap. It would be much better with a couple of additions.."
Without any warning, Brad let out an involuntary moan as he felt his chest begin to swell outwards. Softer and larger as his nipples tingled and grew, whilst at the same time he felt his cock start to pull inwards. He wasn't an idiot, he knew what was happening to him. The long hair that flicked down in the edges of his vision all but confirmed it; Marcus was turning his old body female.
"Now, if you looked like this on the other hand... Then I could see us definitely staying friends." Marcus pulled the newly female Brad closer. "Way more than friends, if you catch my drift..."
Brad gulped. There were so many alien sensations going on in his body at the moment he barely knew how to process any of them. Least of all the sensitive tits that had his new pussy wet with every shift of his now too small t-shirt against his nipples.
"My old body you're in looks far better female, and I bet a fag like you has always wanted to know what riding your own cock would be like..." Marcus whispered. "What'd you say? Get your old friend back, and a hot boyfriend? All you gotta do is give in baby..."
"Fuck... This is such a bad idea...." Brad said as he glanced down at Marcus' bulge. The bugle that five minutes ago had been his. The bulge that he was heavily considering letting Marcus fuck the new hole between his legs with.
"That ain't a no..."
Brad's fragile willpower snapped. He reached down and started to rub his clit whilst the other hand squeezed his new sensitive chest. "Fuck me Brad, before I change my mind. If you don't make me believe we're better like this we're switching back, okay?"
Marcus, now officially Brad, grinned. "Deal baby. But you know how good this body can fuck, especially now it's straight like it was always supposed to be!"
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Pairing - Eddie Munson X Gareth Emerson X Plus size Fem-reader 18+ content
Blurb- Friday nights are yours, Eddie & Gareth's smoke sessions, but after enduring the sexual tension of being the third-wheel to yours & Eddie's heavy petting something changes for virgin Gareth.
Warnings- SMUT - Over 18’s ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!! M-F-M (P in V). Cream pie. Drug use Eddie, Gareth & Reader (Weed). Smoking. MMF threesome. Assplay. Squirting. Oral (M) Fingering. Loss of virginity (M). Daddy-kink. Consensual sharing of a partner (established relationship & best friend). Dom/Sub. Pet names. Choking. Possessiveness. Voyeurism. Pervy (if you squint). Reader has nipple piercings. Eddie has a PA piercing. No use of Y/N. Please let me know if I’ve missed any others.
Word count- 6.3k
Reader is referred to as "Bunnie" and is described as a plus-sized beauty (thick thighs, tummy & large breasts are all adored and worshiped here) and is referenced to have blue eyes. No description of hair colour.
*Please don't copy my work or repost on any other platforms without my permission. *Although I do appreciate likes, reblogs and comments if you've enjoyed my work!*
Authors note- This was a labour of love, its the first fic I started to write in the Bunnie-verse, but I couldn't seem to get it right and I'm somewhat of a perfectionist & terrible self critic so this fic has been in my drafts for well over 18 months. Finally I feel I did my idea justice. I hope anyway. Please enjoy and let me know, if you enjoy my ramblings again! Big thanks to my girl @bexreadstoomuch for proofreading (many many many times)!
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Your heavy eyes blinked through the smoke haze which filled the inside of Eddie’s bedroom. At the foot of the bed, Gareth sat crossed legged, rolling another joint, before licking a wet stripe across the paper’s edge, sealing the green inside, twisting the end and lighting the tip, in what felt like one smooth swift move. You both giggled at the dumb jokes Eddie was chackling behind, you sat nestled in your boyfriend's lap, passing the joint between the three of you. Nearing the roach, you could feel Eddie’s hands start to wander, as they always did after several joints. Not wanting to make Gareth feel like the third wheel for what felt like the billionth time when you hung out, you pushed Eddie’s hands back towards your waist into the familiar hug from before.
Eddie, unhappy with your wriggling, squeezes you tight into his chest, almost too tight causing you to whine. “Eddieeeee, I can’t breathe…” you sign out, your face turning to the side. Which in hindsight only opened your neck up to be attacked in sloppy wet kisses by the floppy haired boy. “Sweetheart, you just make me so, so, well I think you can feel how you make me feel” he whined back into your neck as the kisses trailed down from behind your ear to the top of your collar bones. He was right, you could feel exactly how you made him feel, the firm reminder grinding into your lower back. Turning to face him you smiled, biting your lower lip between your teeth, muttering a small “hmmm” in agreement. “Such a tease” Eddie whispered only loud enough for you to hear.
Gareth fiddled and bit the skin of his fingertips, anything but to draw his attention back to the two of you, close, Eddie’s hands caressing the curves of your hips up to your breasts. Where he ghosted over the fullness of your tits, in an attempt to see your nipples peak at the touch, which successfully they did. Glancing over you to the bottom of the bed, you see the awkward boy fumbling with his hands, jealousy painted over his soft face. “Aaargghh come on guys, please don’t make me witness your stoned, horny foreplay again” he muttered, pulling himself off the bed and stumbling out of the room.
Feeling guilty you turned to face the wolfish grin painted on Eddie’s face, “Come on Eddie '' you sighed “Gareth’s right, he’s seen the outline of your boner waaay too many times already. It’s not fair on him, and I don’t wanna make him regret coming over to hang out again. I just don't see why the girls don’t flood to him though, he deserves someone he can blossom with. He’s cute, caring, smart and I remember from the pool last summer, those shorts didn’t leave much to the imagination” you smirked “I mean if we ever break up, hey I’ll give him a ride anytime”. Eddie started howling just as Gareth’s stunned face came into view, as he walked back in the room after grabbing a beer, hearing the majority of your confession.
“You know these trailers aren’t soundproof Bunnie, I thought you learnt that last time Wayne caught us, you know after the incident with the cuffs and the vibrator, the one whereee….” Eddie playfully teased. “EDDDDIIIEEE!” you whined cutting Eddie off before he could confess all your sins, “stop talking!” sealing it with a kiss, smiling. Gareth stood blindsided in the doorway, too stunned to speak, before butting in “You’d fuck me?! You? Bunnie, Eddie’s girl. The hottest chick I know would fuck me? I know I’m not swimming in pussy Bunnie, but don’t mock me. I can’t take it, and not with you guys banging like rabbits. You know I’m still a virgin, there’s me just beating off, into my hand off every day, that shit’s just cruel!” Gesturing to the growing lump between his legs.
Eddie turned to smile at you, whispering in your ear “you know we could always try that fantasy we spoke about?” taking your earlobe between his teeth nibbling at the soft skin between his teeth, before kissing down your neck, causing shivers to run down your spine. “Go on baby, tell Gareth again, how much you’d like to ride on his virgin cock. How you want us to take it in turns fucking your pretty pussy, until you’re scream both our names for the whole trailer park to hear”.
Red eyed and brain still hazed from the weed, you half lidded smiled at the thoughts swimming in your head. The dirty thoughts of Gareth’s shy face pressed deep between your legs as Eddie guided him on how to please you, until your vision got blurry and tears streamed from your eyes in blinding white hot pleasure.
Releasing you from his grasp Eddie watched from his place on the bed as you rose from his lap, feet gliding across the carpet over to Gareth. Grasping his shirt in your hands, your hands pressed into his chest. You leaned your forehead on his, your warm breath causing goosebumps to prick onto his skin and the baby hairs on the nape of his neck to erect. “Kiss me Gareth” you whispered into his mouth, before crashing your plump soft lips on his boyish chapped ones. A smile grew across your lips as you pulled back to stare into his glazed over eyes.
Eddie groaned from the bed behind you. Looking over your shoulder you saw him, rubbing his hard, thick cock over the rising tent of his sweats. Biting your lip and sliding your dewy tongue across, slipping your silver tongue bar between your teeth you giggled back at Gareth. Still shocked Gareth stared blankly into your eyes, almost forgetting to blink entirely.
“Cat got your tongue Gare-bear” you giggled, “Or was it Bunnie” Eddie interjected. The wolfish grin, ever present on his angular face. “Kiss her again Gare, she likes it when you’re rough. Go on, and slip her some tongue this time. I wanna see her squirm like she does for me”.
Snapping out of his state of shocked hypnosis, growing in confidence at Eddie's encouragement, he placed his hands on your waist as he pulled you in. Placing a hand on your cheek, “Are you okay with this Bunnie?”, enticing a nod from you he smashed his lips back on yours once more. You feel his silken tongue skim across your plump bottom lip, probing for entry into your warm mouth. Inviting him in you suck on the tip of his tongue, eyes falling closed with delight as you feel him tangle it back with yours. Gareth’s kiss was tender and encasing, making the world outside of your field of vision drift away to nothing.
Only the groans of Eddie bring you back to reality, as he approaches you from behind, smacking his big firm hand on your ass, rubbing the fat rounded curves. ”Sweetheart, you’re making me jealous all alone over there. Sprinkle some of that sugar on me, would you?” Feeling his curls tickle your shoulders you broke away from Gareth’s lips, to turn back to kiss Eddie’s inviting puffy lips instead. Eddie’s hands slid over your round hips, following your curves down your thick thighs. “God Bunnie, you’re so fucking sexy, you ass looks sinful in those jeans” pulling the tough fabric against your legs, feeling the denim snapping back to your skin causing you to jump. “Undo the front button Gare, let us see you in all your beautiful glory baby” Eddie said.
Reaching for the front button of your jeans with shaky hands Gareth undid the offending jeans as Eddie pulled them down your legs, leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses down the backs of your legs, until they pooled at your ankles on the floor. Standing between the two men in your black lace panties, one of Eddie’s old tattered Black Sabbath shirts now barely covered your voluptuous cheeks. “So, so fucking sexy, don’t you agree Gare” Eddie’s gruff voice growlled for you both to hear. Gareth hummed in agreement, still in disbelief of the situation he found himself in on a usual Friday evening hangout, with the unusual added twist of his best friend allowing him to share his girlfriend for the night.
Turning back, leaning back into Eddie’s touch you found yourself rubbing your hands over Gareth’s chest following the lean lines of his little podge tummy, luring the familiar squirming Eddie had commented on before to his friend. “Lose the shirt too Bunnie, you know I can’t resist those perfect big tits you’re keeping from us, and I know Gareth’s had many a night thinking about them too. I’ve caught him staring enough times, drool practically dripping from his chin” Eddie teased, pulling the hem of the shirt up over your head lifting your arms to allow him to remove it. You complied with his actions. “You’re being so good for us Bunnie” Eddie cooed.
Succumbing to Eddie’s words, you felt exposed and vulnerable between the fully clothed men boxing you in. Eddie pulled at the hem of your shirt, tugged the tatted item up and over your shoulders, allow him to fully remove the offending clothing. Your soft breasts falling out, jiggling with the movement, pert pierced nipples hard from the cool air you’d been exposed to. Silver bars catching Gareth’s eyes, his focus now solely on your tits, a vision he thought he’d never see outside his own head, silver bars through each, causing Gareth’s cock to grow ever harder. Eddie pulled you back onto the bed, placing himself at the headboard, inviting you to sit between his legs once more. Gareth followed, stumbling forward, kneeling at your feet. Eddie thrust your milky thighs apart, fully exposing your wet, ruined panties to Gareth.
“Awww sweetheart you’re soaking, what’s got you this worked up already. Was it thoughts of your little Gare-bear taking care of you?” Eddie patronised in your ear, hot breath dancing over the skin. Open mouthed kisses landed on your neck, as Eddie’s nibble fingers wound into the hem of your panties. Running his nimble fingers through your folds, his fingers now covered in your slick. “Gonna take these off now Bunnie, s’that okay with you?” Eddie checked in for your welcomed consent. You nodded again. “Gonna need some words baby, if you want this to go further '' Eddie encouraged, chin tucked in, looking over his brows. “Yes”, you huffed out “please, please I want this”.
Hooking his thumbs over the top of the lace, he slowly pulled your panties down over your plush round hips. The slick, soaked centre sticking to the centre as he pulled them down your smooth inked legs, before throwing them in Gareth’s face. “You alright there Gare” Eddie ridiculed, “You’re staring bud, what’s wrong never seen a pussy this pretty before, is that it? Better than any of porn mags is this, ain’t that right Bunnie? Bestest pussy I’ve ever tasted” he groaned “so sweet, so warm, so tight, so inviting”.
Eddie ran his fingers through your glistening folds again, through the lines of your sweet cream. Fingertips grazing over your entrance, causing a light shudder to fall down your spine and a yielding moan to fall from your lips. Your head fell back again into Eddie’s shoulder as his fingers pushed back up to your swollen bud. Tracing small figures of eight over the hardened nub, tingles and deeper moans falling from your mouth once more. The echoing pressure building in your stomach, the coil tightening with every relentless pass. Swift fingers dipped into your entrance fucking you onto his thick appendages, whilst his thumb took over the tight circles on your clit. A long groan spilling from your lips. Eyes slammed shut you breathed through your gritted teeth, coaching you through the satisfaction of what you were craving. “Don’t stop baby, I’m close” you whined into Eddie’s neck.
Eddie reached forward grabbing Gareth’s hands, bringing them to your throbbing core. “Touch her Gare, she’s so close, go on, feel her.” Gareth’s fingers almost trembled at the lightest touch on your slick folds. Eddie guided his fingers up to the swollen bud again, rolling the nib between both their fingertips. “That’s it Gare, just press right there” Eddis softly spoke. Gareth’s face shone with amazement as you writhed under their shared touch, breathy moans singing from your throat. All of a sudden you shuddered, shaking, climbing rapidly towards your high. A silent moan echoed as you hit the peak. Your face contorting, eyes squeezed tightly shut and pressed to O shape.
“That’s it sweetheart” Eddie cooed in your ear “Gonna give us another?” You nodded, head still swimming under the water. Continuing the punishment on your clit, and pussy, another strangling moan reverberated out your pink lips. Eddie plunged his fingers in and out, the pace intoxicating you further down the rabbit hole into pure sinful pleasure, overstimulation is starting to set in. “Eyes open Bunnie, I want Gareth to see those baby blues when you come for us again”. Peeling your eyes open to meet Gareth wanting ones, staring back into your tearful ones. Tear drops threatening to overspill your lashes as you came with another cry. Intaking heavy breaths to try and keep yourself grounded.
“Good girl, you’re doing so well for us baby” Eddie muttered into your ears through his own heavy breaths. The constant bulge in your lower back twitching pressed into your damp skin. Glancing down you could the same reaction from Gareth, a growing damp patch of pre-cum seeping through the fly of his jeans. Eddie smiled a merciless grin again and your eyes widened at the sight, your strong tongue gliding across your lip taking it between your teeth as you looked back up to his boyish face.
“I wanna taste you” you said in awe to Gareth. “You heard the lady, Gare. You don’t wanna leave our little Bunnie waiting any longer, do you? Eddie enlivened. Gareth began stripping himself of his clothes quicker than you thought humanly possible. Ripping the hem of his Judas Priest shirt over his fluffy curls, shaking his hair down like an excited puppy through the neckhole. Fiddling with the button and fly of jeans with sticky fingers, ripping them down his strong muscular thighs, sprinkled with sparse brunette hairs. Kicking them off to the side, throwing his trainers with them. Leaving him in his red checked cotton boxers, large protruding tent front and centre.
You reached forward the palm over the clothed bulge, wiggling your fingertips tickling his balls, causing the boy to groan and gasp. “Always wanted to taste you Gare, you have such a pretty face. I’m glad I’m the one who's going to ruin you for every other girl after. I’m gonna blow your mind Gare, an’ your cock. Do you want that Gare? Your big fat cock stuffed in my pretty mouth” you purred, your fingers creeping over the elastic reaching down to grasp your fingers around his length. Gareth’s firm cock, didn’t feel as thick or long as Eddie’s but it definitely wasn’t small. You ran your fingers up and around his shift, feeling around 6 and halfish inches, with thick pulsing veins running up the sides.
Gareth gasped as you held a firm hold on his cock, slowly moving your hand up and down the shaft to get him used to the sensation. Your nails brushed against the curls at the base, running your fingertips through the hairs before going down to cup his aching balls. The soft skin was warm in your palm.
“Fuck” Gareth whispered out, head falling back to the ceiling,“your hands feel so soft Bunnie”. You giggled, looking up at the blissful blush painted across Gareth’s cheeks.
“Take these off for me please, Gare-bear. Wanna see you in all your glory now”, you parroted Eddie’s words. Gareth slowly pulled down his well-worn cotton boxers, his cock springing out and to attention. Your eyes fixated to his leaking cock, drool gathering in your mouth at the taboo thoughts of two best friends fucking you.
“Aww Bunnie, you're teasing him” Eddie cooed from the headboard, hand now palming himself over his jeans. “Why don’t you show him what a good girl you are, like when you suck Daddy’s cock”.
Your pleading eyes met Gareth’s blown out pupils. “Can I use my mouth on you Gareth?” you sweetly asked. “Sure Bunnie, I erm, sure yeah, I’d love that” he mumbled, still unbelieving this was happening. “Just sit back, if there’s anything you don’t like, let me know, yeah” you softly spoke. Placing a tender kiss on his lips.Gareth nodded in agreement.
Leaning down you kissed the tip of Gareth’s leaking cock, licking the pearls of pre-cum and swallowing them with a “hmmm”.
“Does he taste good, Bunnie?” Eddie called from behind, now folded over your back, placing a line of kisses down your spine. Shivers rickersahed through your body. Eddie’s fingers danced over your hips and waist and you pushed Gareth cock into your warm, wet, wanting mouth. Tongue licking the underside from base to tip, flicking Gareth’s frenulum. A hiss through his teeth at the sensitivity. Grinning you swallowed him, taking his whole length in your mouth, head beginning to bob up and down. His mouth curls tickling your nose on every bob of your head. You could hear encouraging hisses and groans from above.
Eddie now face buried in your ass, lips left wet open mouthed kisses across your peachy fullness, firm hands pulling your cheeks apart to see your tight hole. “Fuck Bunnie, you gonna let me play your ass, while you play with Gareth. Daddy loves watching you squirm, Princess.”
“Mmmm yeah Daddy, please” you moaned in replied lips leaving Gareth’s cock moment, as a big glob of spit travelled down your ass welling in your tight hole, lighting your super sensitive hole on fire with desire. Eddie’s fingers circled your puckered asshole, teasing the pressure as his finger slipped into the first knuckle, A loud moan ripped through your throat “Fuccckk” you cursed, your body shuddering as your mouth wrapped again round Gareth’s dripping cock, head bobbing back into a steady rhythm. Eddie continued to massage your tight hole, slowly pushing his fingertip in and out, spitting down between your cheeks again occasionally, to keep it slick. Teasing nibbles landing on your ass cheeks, as Eddie’s firm hands massaged your voluptuous peachy behind and slipping below to tease your clit some more.
Gareth was rapidly falling apart, soon to be losing control. His hands grasped your head, fingers tangled in your hair. “Fuck Bunnie, its to good. I don’t wanna cum just yet” he blurted out, worry slung across his face.
Releasing his cock from your flushed lips, you smiled, pulling yourself back and sitting on your heels. “Good boy” you praised, “so sweet for me” your sweetly smiled. “Do you want me to give me Teddy some attention whilst you calm down a little, then you can fuck my pussy when you feel ready, hmmm? I just wanna take care of you, don’t feel pressured though. We can stop anytime”. Honey dripped from your words.
How could you be this sweet to him, after all the times he’d heard you and Eddie fucking, it seemed slower, more sensual, all soft edges for him. You cared for him, you really cared he felt comfortable and safe. The decisions were his, but guided by you and Eddie. His best friend and his best friend’s insanely hot, sinfully curvaceous, loving girlfriend.
Gareth nodded in agreement, your sweet smile reassuring his anxiety. Turning your head to Eddie, your sweetness illuminating his face, sacrilegious smile fixated on his gleaming back at you. “Show me the goods, Big boy” you purred, crawling up the bed towards Eddie’s lap. “Someone’s awakened the minx in you today, Bun” he teased, as your hands hastily pulled his blue plaid boxer shorts down his thigh, unleashing Eddie’s rock hard cock. Hitting his stomach with the wet slap, precum beading at the tip. “Offft” Eddie gasped “easy Princess, don’t damage the goods!” Eddie joked. Eddie’s big hands encasping your face pulling you in, chapped, bitten lips meeting your plump, fleshy ones. Eddie’s tongue lazily swept over your bottom lip, before pushing forward into your soft, wet mouth. Releasing you with a smack of his lips again, a saccharine smile stretched across his face. Dreamy pools of chocolate stared back into yours, losing yourself in the black irises.
Gareth’s chokes shook you back to reality, “Fuck Ed’s, I didn’t know you’d got a piercing down there?” Gareth’s shocked questioning made you giggle. “Yeah, got it a few months back, when I was last up in Indy at the tattoo shop” Eddie laughed, “Thought fuck it, heard it good for the ladies and I know Bunnie here agrees” Eddie’s eyes flicked to your blushed face, “...and I mean why not adorn the trouser snake, it’s pretty metal right?” Eddie gestured to the circular ring through the end of his hard cock, the silver twinkling like a beacon in the dim light. Gareth was definitely straight that he knew, but he had to agree it did look great.
Your small hands gripped Eddie’s shaft, fingers running up the length and back down, teasing touches before you kissed the tip, featherlight. Kitten licking his slit, tongue wrapping the ring before softly sucking on the bulbous head. Eddie groaned in pleasure, head thrown back into the headboard, if he wasn’t so high and distracted he would definitely be in pain from the impact. “Fuck that’s hot” is all you hear above Eddie’s moans. Gareth’s awestruck face watching the scene before him. Stroking his own cock, whilst he switched between gazing at your puffy wet pussy, slick covered plush thighs and head bobbing up and down the length of Eddie’s cock.
Hollowing your cheeks you sucked harder on Eddie’s dick. Gathering your hair in a makeshift ponytail in his hands, lightly guiding you up and down on his length. “Shiiittt, Bunnie, your mouth feels so good princess” Eddie praised above you. “Always such a good slut for Daddy, that’s it, always take my dick so well.” Humming vibrations swelled in your throat as you took Eddie deeper in your throat. Your free hand drifting lower to cradle Eddie’s full balls in your hands, rolling them between your nimble fingers, gently squeezing the skin in your palm.
Usually you could spend all night with Eddie’s firm cock weighing on your tongue, but right now you were so turned on, the thoughts of two sets of hands caressing your skin, two mouths lapping over on your erect nipples and two piercing cocks splitting you open, watching you crumble and come undone. You needed more. Releasing Eddie’s cock from your lips, you satback on your knees, pushing your hair over your shoulder as Eddie let go and replaced your mouth with his own guitar calloused, motor oil stained hands.
Glancing over your shoulder at Gareth with wide eyes you softly spoke, “Want you Gare-bear, want you inside me” seduction dripping from every word. “Want you to fuck me, want your cum”, your hands playing with your budding nipples, lightly squeezing the bars through each, pulled and pressing into your heavy breasts, teasing yourself. Turning yourself round you crawled back over Gareth, sitting firm in his lap. Leaning in hot breath on his neck, placing wet kisses up the column of his throat. “You want me to ride you pretty boy?” you questioned, wide doe eyes looking at him.
Nodding Gareth placed his trembling hands over the podgy skin of your waist and hips, finger tips pushing into the squishy flesh, massaging the fat there adoringly. “Yeah Bunnie, please, please ride me, it’s all I’ve thought about every time we’ve smoked. Always wanted this, wanted you, but I thought I’d never get this, Eddie knows that. Always been jealous of you two” Gareth hushed out, glancing over to Eddie behind now behind you kissing your upper back and neck, his rough hands running up and down your spine. “It’s true Bun, should have seen his face after I told him we made it official, felt like I’d kicked a puppy”.
Rolling your head back to meet Eddie’s shoulder, Gareth’s hands wandered up to grasp your breasts, replacing yours mirroring your previous movements. “You want me to fuck you raw or I can get you a condom, we have some, Eddie can you grab one, I mean its your first time so it’s not like your not clean, I’m on the pill so ya know that’s not a issue…” you began to ramble, serious undertones checking consent before taking the plunge. “Yes, god yes” Gareth abruptly interrupted, “Jesus yes, I wanna fuck you so bad, please I wanna know what it really feels like, no barriers Bunnie please!”
Gareth’s impatience filled you confidence, adjusting your legs, your doughy thighs straddled Gareth’s hairy muscular ones, tense from years of drumming. Hovering your awaiting sopping pussy over his pearling cock, you rubbed his pink mushroom head through your soaked folds, rutting against your overly over-stimulated, sensitive clit. Causing all the air in the lungs to escape you, a deep breath you didn’t realise you were holding. “You ready, handsome?” you whispered in his ear, lips tickling the shell of his ear, before looking into his eyes to check consent. Gareth’s hands held your hips as he nodded, his own breath stuck in his throat, stuttering a simple “yes, please”.
Lowering yourself down until Gareth’s mushroom tip pushed past your slick folds, you moaned at the intrusion. “Congrats Gare, you’re no longer a virgin” you giggled, sinking further down to hilt. “How’s it feel, buddy? Like warm apple pie? Like kisses from ya momma?” Eddie joked from behind you, cock in hand lazily stroking himself. “Fuck off Eddie” Gareth breathed out laughing. Reaching back you playfully shoved Eddie, shaking your head and rolling your eyes. After giving Gareth a minute to adjust to the wet warmth of your cunt, you began to move. Grinding down against his slender hips, building that sweet friction you desired to climb the hill of pleasure. “Fuck” Gareth sighed out, lolling his head back. “Jesus, this feels good”. “Mmm yeah, you feel good Gare, stretching my tight pussy out” you moaned out, placing your lips on Gareth grounding yourself as you rocked back and forth chasing your high.
Eddie’s deft hands found their way up your waist, rub and up over your tits, rolling your pert nipples between his fingers, you squeaked in pain and pleasure. Pulling and massaging the supple fullness of your supple breasts. Feeling the knot in your stomach begin to tighten again you started slowly bouncing on Gareth cock, letting him almost slip out before smashing your hips back down, the drag of his cock rubbing against your spongy spot, erupting gasps and moans falling from you lips as Gareth kissed your neck. Sinking deeper in the drowning pleasure of two mens attention entirely on you. “Good girlll…such a fucking good girl for us Bunnie” Eddie growled, extending the sound of the first L. Feeling needy you whined tilting your head back onto Eddie’s shoulder again, chasing his kiss.
Locking lips with Eddie, his cock now nudging your lower back and he helped guide you bouncing on his best friend cock. Gareth’s face was scrunched in concentration. Endless moans and gasps harmonising with yours, hands glued to the fat of soft your hips, grabbing the flesh and holding it tight. You knew you’d probably have bruises from his fingertips, but it was worth every purple mark he’d leave you as a reminder.
The knot in your stomach felt impossibly tight now. “Need to cum Ed’s, please” you whined. “Oooohh Sweetheart, so soon, you’re such a good girl letting us know. Go on, cum for us princess. Reward Gareth for making you feel so good with your cum, cream on over his big, thick cock for me” Eddie cooed. More harmonic whimpers and moans fell from your open lips, “I’m gonna cum… oh mmm… I’m cumming” you sweetly moaned. Eddie rewarded your permission by kissing your cheek as you fell forward, your body quaking in Eddie’s hands gripping firmly over Gareth’s shoulders to keep you upright.
Your nails leaving crescent moon imprints in his skin, as your orgasm washed over you. Your pussy cramped, milking Gareth’s cock as you chanted his name as you came. “Good fucking girl, look at you. All messy for us'”, Eddie praised as he kissed your shoulder, one, two, three times on a descending trail. Gareth immediately came after you, white spurts white washing your quivering, gummy walls. “Fuckkkkk Bunnie.” Gareth panted, trying to catch his breath gathering his thoughts, as he came back to earth. “That was amazing, God you’re so hot, I can’t believe we did this. Woah, shit, uh huh, yeah? Gareth John Emmerson, virgin no more. Certified sexually active male!” Thanks Bunnie, that's the hardest I’ve ever came. Does it always feel that good? Like, shit, wow” Gareth grinned, rubbing the back of his neck. You replied “You’re welcome Gare '' giggling, “Lost ya V-card now, finally. You stud! It was good yeah, you made me cum, so you’ve better than the guy I lost my virginity too. But you'll have to excuse me, I gotta take care of my Teddy now", a saccharine smile painted on your face and you turned your head to face your floppy haired sex demon of a boyfriend.
Feeling your combined spends dripping from your stuffed, spasming hole, you lifted yourself up off Gareth’s softening cock, placing a kiss on the tip of his nose before turning your attention towards Eddie. “Ooh Bunnie, are you still feeling lovey-dovey and fuzzy, or do you need your Daddy to show you who you really belong too?” Eddie’s hushed tones made chills run down your spine. Placing a messy kiss on your lips, all teeth and tongue. His hands grasp at the soft meat of your thighs, “Get over here now” pulling you into his lap.
Harsh kisses engulf your mouth as his hands come to hold the side of your head, fingers slayed to temples, thumbs tucked under your jaw. “My sweet girl” Eddie growls, pushing you back onto the worn threadbare sheets, under his weight. The instant your skin touched the butterscotch cream cotton, Eddie was on you, wet kisses and stripes of spit now adorning your neck and chest. Leaning back on his heel, head forward, his hair curtaining the devilish smirk prancing across his brow.
He plunged himself in you, leaving you no time to adjust, fucking into your sopping, creaming heat. Hands pinning you by the throat, to the mattress, your eyes spun back into your eye. Wrapping your legs around his slim waist, you pushed against his perfectly tight ass, driving him even further inside your spasming, saturated cunt.
The possessiveness of Eddie shook you, but you’ve never felt so exposed and turned on. Gareth’s eyes wide, softening cock now rapidly refilling with blood, blush creeping deep pink, up his neck and cheeks. Eddie fucked his best friend’s spend further inside you, the wet squelching sounds echoing throughout the room, as Eddie’s heavy balls slapped against your dribbling ass cheeks and sticky thighs. “Fuck Bunnie, you feel fucking amazing sweetheart. You like it when Daddy fucks Garebear’s cum inside you? Yeah, yeah I bet you do, I’m good to my princess, letting her play with her fuck toys. But don’t forget you’re mine!” Eddie growled through gritted teeth whilst pounding into your aching pussy. “My little sweet fuck toy. Daddy’s…little…cum…slut”, Punctuating each word with a harsh thrust.
Eddie fucked you at a relentless pace, he’d never been this rough before, it almost scared you, but definitely thrilled you most. Your pussy was throbbing at an alarming rate, the usual pattern of your orgasm being overtaken by an unignorable pressure in your pelvis. Every stroke of Eddie’s cock against your gummy walls, ascending you higher to your rapture, until it became too much to handle. “Eeeedddddiiiieeee, Mmm, Eddiie” you whimpered between harsh deep breaths. “Can’t hold it any more, I need to cum. Need to cum for you baby, please I need to cum” you pleaded. “Yeah cum for me princess, cum all over Daddy’s cock, my sweet girl.”
Releasing a silent scream, your eyes clamped shut. You suddenly felt a flooding wetness pouring between your thighs. Your own spend expelling from your creamy cunt, and dripping down your tighter hole below. “Ffffffuuuuuccccckkkkk Bunnie” Eddie gasped. “You’re fucking perfect, squirting all over Daddy’s cock. Sweetheart, I fucking love you Princess. I fucking love these perfect, big tits, I fucking love this fat ass and I fucking love this tight pussy” Eddie grappled and grabbed the fat of your waist as he sat back on his heels, watching his throbbing soaked cock, pumping in and out of you your wetness. Your spend still gushing down his cum gutter hips while each thrust forward. Your creamy spend matting the tight brunette curls at the base of his aching cock. Tilting his head back in pure bliss himself as your pussy massaged his cock. “That's it princess, keep squeezing my cock. Milk my cock. You want my cum, Sweetheart? You want Daddy’s cum too? Where do you want me to cum, my sweet girl?” Eddie questioned. “Inside Daddy, fill me full of your cum too, please. Please I want your cum Daddy, please, please, please. Need it please” you babbled, between soft whimpers and moans of ecstacy.
Eddie pounded into you a few more harsh thrusts, snatching all the breath from your lungs, until a throaty growl ripped from his own chest. One fuck into your pulsating soaked sex, he erupted inside you, coating your aching centre with his scent. Followed by three shallow jolts, fucking his spend deeper inside, a shiver rolling down his spine at the force he came with.
“Christ, Bunnie” Eddie huffed, head hanging down, catching his breath as his heart rate began to steady. “Fuck you trying to kill me here, since when could you squirt!? I’m a mess baby, you’ve made such a mess, my dirty, sweet girl” Eddie leant down over your heaving boneless form, placing a soft kiss to your lips, you giggled breaking the spell of haziness.
“Fuckkkk.” Another voice spoke.
Remembering the last hour of your life, both you and Eddie suddenly remembered the third in the room. The man you’d just taken the virginity of. In front and with the permission of your boyfriend. The man who’s now softening dick was slipping out of you. The crash back to reality dawning on your slightly stoned, post-orgasmic, purple hazed brains. The complications which could occur following this impulsive, drug-fueled decision.
“That… That, was hottest shit I’ve ever seen. How’d you do that man? How’d you make her do that? Bunnie, Bunnie how?” You could see Gareth’s mind untangling, the bewilderment evident on his face. The complete confusion baked into Gareth's face, made you and Eddie break into cackling laughter. Eddie rolling over and falling off the bed in a fit of convulsing giggling, kicking his legs at his friends expense, His sweaty mane, stuck to his pretty features.
After regaining his composure Eddie replied, “Just the prize of being a pure, unadulterated sex god, like me I guess Gare. You'll get there buddy, it just takes some practice, right Bunnie?” He chortled.
“Sure thing Eds, if you say so” you grinned back, hiding your face in your hands. Gareth's face is still frozen in a picture of awestruck shock. Standing off the bed, you addressed your lovers, “Look boys, I’m gonna grab a shower. How about you put your dicks away and roll me another blunt, I deserve to be doted on hand and foot after that performance, I also require a dr pepper and candy, please” your pleading eyes looking at Eddie & Gareth, before heading off to the bathroom of the clammy trailer.
“Welcome to the world of women Gare, this is the price we pay. You’re gonna be a slave to the pussy now, buddy.” Eddie joked, slapping Gareth on the back and he jumped up and followed you to the bathroom. “Gareth’s got it honey, I’ll help scrub your back sweetness”, Eddie threw a wink at Gareth before shutting the bathroom door and sliding the lock.
Gareth groaned looking down at his softening cock, realising he’d come a second time over his stomach, too frozen by the scene in front of him to register his own excitement spill again. Ropes of dripping white down his abs and in his treasure trail of curls. “Slave to the pussy? Shit, he’s got that right!” Gareth muttered to himself, cleaning his pearled stomach with an abandoned shirt. Reaching for the papers, grinder, Eddie’s weed and tobacco. “Slave to the god, damn, pussy! And it's not even mine! Whipped for another man’s girlfriend. I’m so fucked.”
“Edddddiiiiieeee, stop! Stooooop! No more! You’re insatiable!” Gareth could hear your giggles from inside the shower, Eddie’s wet kisses and lips circling, sucking and licking over your peaked nipples under the water stream. Groaning, he fell back onto the bed, closing his eyes to dull the ache that shot straight to his stiffening dick again.
“I’m so very FUCKED” he thought to himself.
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#eddie munson#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fanfic#eddie x reader smut#stranger things#eddie munson fucks hard. facts#eddie x reader#eddie munson x plus size reader#eddie munson x gareth emmerson x reader
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MHA Fumikage Tokoyami x Reader - Dangerous - I
Summary: After losing your quirk, you confide in Tokoyami that your situation does, in fact, bother you.
Warnings: Angst, fluff, comfort, mentions of trauma, reader has a specific quirk, fem!reader, loss of quirk
You sat on the balcony of Heights Alliance, hugging your knees close to your chest as you stared up at the stars with glossy eyes. From inside, you could hear cheering. Your classmates were having a party to celebrate everyone coming home somewhat safely from a terrifying encounter with the League of Villains. The party was actually meant to be in your honor, mostly. To commemorate you finally coming home from the hospital after such a long stay. That being said, it didn't seem like anyone minded you not actually attending.
The previous weeks had flown by for you, almost as if you were on autopilot. You hadn't had any kind of time to accept the things that had happened to you, but everyone seemed to have already moved on, so you did your best to pretend you had as well. You didn't want to rain on anyone's parade.
Tears welled in your eyes as you twirled a dead strand of hair around your finger, pulling it from the follicle almost instantly, and you stared at it, pinching it between your fingers. Heartbroken at the frailty and dullness of it, you blew it out of your hand, letting the wind carry it away.
Suddenly, you wiped your tears onto your sleeve, hearing the sliding glass door hit its frame as someone stepped out. You didn't need to look, you already knew who it was. Heavy footsteps were a dead ringer for the identity of the person. Only two people in class wore combat boots casually- Jiro and Tokoyami, and you could hear the former's distinct laugh coming from inside.
"You'd think if someone threw you a party, you might show up," Tokoiyami said, sitting beside you, one leg straight out, popping between the bars of the railing and the other bent with his knee to the sky as he rested backward on his palms.
"Yeah, kinda rude, don't you think?" A raspy, graining voice chastised from behind him, only to be waved off by the raven.
"Enough," He said, willing Dark Shadow back within himself.
"No," you protested, a bit too late. "He's right, you both are." you replied, finally acknowledging him. "It is rude of me not to attend my own party, especially when everyone went to such trouble..." You had to stop faking a smile as it was making your lip quiver. You felt a sturdy hand on your shoulder, and a staticky feeling on the other.
"Are you alright?" Tokoyami asked, giving your left shoulder a reassuring squeeze as Dark Shadow rested his head on the left.
"I-I'm fine, why wouldn't I be?" you answered, conviction wavering greatly as you stifled sobs. "You all went to such trouble to make sure I felt welcome when I came home, I'm just so happy to have caring friends." You were only half lying. Throughout your entire hospital stay, someone was always there with you. A few students rotated spending nights with you or sitting with you to ensure you didn't get lonely. Sato kept you in supply of so many sweets you were sure you'd gained weight as a consequence, and the girls kept your room cute and full of fresh flowers to lift your spirits. They had all gone out of their way to make you feel cared for. "I'm just going to miss you all so much..." You finally confessed almost silently.
"We aren't going anywhere, I promise," He said, comfortingly, eyes softening. "Why would you think that?"
"I know you aren't leaving, Toko," you corrected with a sniffle. "I am."
His vermillion eyes widened in pure shock. What did you mean, where you running away?" "No you aren't," he said in disbelief, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling your back against his chest. "You're still a part of class 1-A, no matter what happens."
"I'm getting expelled, Tokoyami." You stated flatly. "I'm quirkless, I can't stay here."
He was silent for a moment before speaking again, softer than you'd ever heard him. "That won't happen, it's in the bilaws. A quirk isn't required to be enrolled at UA anymore, ask Midor-"
"Nezu said it himself," you explained matter of factly, feeling honestly numb about the whole thing. "He said I'm in more danger here as a student and without a quirk I'm a liability. I can't protect myself or anyone else if the villains were to attack us again. He's sending me home tomorrow and my family and I will be placed in witness protection."
Suddenly, everything made so much sense to him. Why you had mentioned wanting to stay in the hospital, why you didn't want to join the party. For the class, it was a welcome home party. For you, it was for going away.
"I-I see..." he muttered into your back, tucking his head between the two of you to gather his wits. "That's...unfortunate, I'm going to miss you...very much." He confessed, his stomach dropping to his stomach at the revelation.
"I'll miss you too," you replied softly, gazing up at the stars. "Probably the most out of everyone."
"Is that so?" He asked, chuckling sadly. "I'm glad I could be your favorite."
"Nobody else ever had a chance of being my favorite," you confessed with a relieved smile. This all did feel good to get off your chest. "I liked you since day one."
You could feel Tokoyami freeze against your back, his eyes shot wide open. "Y-You...liked me?" he asked carefully, almost as if asking for confirmation would scare you away like a deer when approached by a human.
"Present tense," You responded sweetly. "I still do. Just thought you outta know."
You felt his grip on you tighten as his head perched on your shoulder. "How bittersweet..." He mused lightheartedly.
"What is?" you asked, cocking your head away from his in a feeble attempt to look his way.
"I always thought I'd have more time to collect myself beforehand..." he answered cryptically. "I thought I might wait to tell you until we're older."
"Tell me what?" you pressed, becoming nervous and annoyed at once.
"That I am..." you could feel him inhale through his nostrils. "Irrevocably infatuated with you." He finally admitted, sanguine as he held you in the peaceful cover of night.
"Would have been nice to know." You laughed, cheeks running hot, but not as much as they would have been under better circumstances. "Maybe we'll find each other later in life, maybe in another life entirely. Sometime after this is all over."
"I'd wait eons to be with you, (Y/n)." he accepted, knowing the time wasn't right, but that you were the right person.
"I think I would too," you agreed, nuzzling his feathered cheekbone lightly. "I suppose there's no point in asking you out now, is there?"
He unfortunately shook his head. "I'm afraid not, but at least until morning, we can be one, even if day break means separation."
"That sounds nice..." you cooed, resting against him as your gaze naturally lilted upwards to his, already waiting. "Fumikage...can I call you that?" You asked, almost sure of his answer, but wanting to be respectful none the less.
"You may call me anything as long as you call me yours." He replied, nodding.
"Wanna kiss...?" You could tell the suggestion caught him by surprise by the way he withdrew slightly, and you thought for a moment that you'd ruined everything. No matter if you did, after tomorrow, you'd probably never see him again.
"More than anything, yes," he answered breathlessly. "But I can't kiss you...by conventional means." He confessed, suddenly bashful. It was then that you realized it never dawned on you that Tokoyami's beak may not have been pleasant to kiss.
"Why don't you kiss me then..?" you suggested serenely. "That way you can show me how to kiss you back, it's not like I've ever kissed anyone anyhow."
"A-Are you sure...?" he asked, swallowing hard as you shifted in his lap to face him.
"I am," you confirmed with a smile, leaning closer expectantly. Tokoyami suddenly felt incredibly nervous.
Slowly, he leaned in to meet you, first nuzzling his forehead against yours and then your cheek. "I-It's called preening..." he said softly, beak parting as he took the gentlest nibbles at your cheeks and bottom lip. You couldn't help but blush as you struggled to stifle a giggle, failing miserably, making him yank back in embarassament.
"Thank you..." you smile sweetly at his fluster. "For sharing that with me, I could tell it was special."
"It's how birds show affection," he explained halfheartedly. "We clean each other's feathers, though, obviously you don't have any feathers, so I improvised..." Tokoyami felt like he was digging his own grave as he withdrew from you.
"It was precious..." you murmured, bringing your fingertips up to your lips, as if to hold his kiss there for as long as possible. "I loved it."
"T-There is something else we could try..." he suggested sheepishly. It's a bit more human but its...also a bit more how do I say it...?"
You tilted your head, eyeing him curiously. "Passionate?"
"Something to that effect..." He muttered, on the verge of humiliation, until you nodded your head with a glint in your eye that made his knees weak. With trembling fingers, he raised his hand, trying his best to imitate things he'd read in gothic romance novels. Hooking your chin, he pulled you infinitely closer, tilting his head opposite of yours as he guided you to do the same, and he parted his beak again, this time wider than before.
Nothing could have prepared you for the sensation of his tongue pressing against your lips, but you tried to adjust quickly so as not to embarrass him further. Letting your lips give way, your own tongue inched beyond them, touching his so very gently. Shocked, he almost pulled away but willed himself still, letting his tongue gently brush against yours with a furrowed brow. He had to concentrate in order to keep his beak from hurting you, but he was finding it so easy to lose focus as you crawled closer and grew bolder, pressing your face against the side of his in order to explore more of his mouth.
"My lark..." Tokoyami sighed, feeling lost in the moment as he shivered at the sensation of your tongue grazing the back of his teeth. As his hands slithered around your neck to cup your jaw, he couldn't help but feel his attention split at the overwhelming warmth that sat there on your shoulders. Eyes fluttering open, they suddenly snapped wide at the sight of you, magenta locks aflame.
"Lark," he repeated, pulling away, breath dripping with astonishment. "Your hair!"
#mha#mha x reader#tokoyami fumikage#fumikage tokoyami#tokoyami x reader#fumikage x reader#fumikage tokoyami x reader#tokoyami angst#mha angst
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Phantom Pain
Genji Shimada x Reader
Most of Genji's time at Overwatch has mostly been the same. He always would go to Dr. Ziegler, when something would happen with his many prosthetics. Missing an arm and 2 legs was something he never really could accept. His reflection always put him off even after coming to terms and accepting his new life. Genji still was able to do what he was able to before, I infact better with his range of motion heightened in his legs, making jumping easier and his jumps holding more power than they did before. But there would be days he felt the loss of his limbs, stings of pain would shoot through his missing extremities. Aches would plauge his day. Sometimes, it would just be a feeling for a moment, and others it would last for hours with seemingly no end to the pain. Those days were always his worst.
Angela always helped him, always giving him explanations on why it's happening and she would treat him the way she could. Genji always knew it was something to expect. In fact, when he first woke up with his limbs replaced, he was told the news and what to expect. But with how much mirror therapy and medications sometimes they never worked, Genji hated the fact they never truly worked.
He knew stress could impact the severity of how painful it could be. Meditation was something that grew to be just as important as training for him. Genji thought he was at peace with himself, with his life, but deep down, he was still lonely. He went from a man with a family, maybe not a good one, but Hanzo was there when he was younger and had the time. And Genji would always have a girlfriend, someone to talk his mind to and someone to be there for him. At Overwatch, that wasn't there.
Sure, at Overwatch, he had friends. Angela was friendly, and so was everybody else. But he never had someone close to someone who made that spark in his heart and someone to hold close.
Those days where he would lay there in pain, each stump of his throbbing made it hurt to walk or let alone stand in place. His whole body ached, the metal feeling like in was still his flesh, and every single cell was in pain. He just wished someone was there for him. He wished he wasn't so alone. Meditation felt impossible, and he just needed to be grounded. But nobody could willingly hold someone more metal than skin. He was accepting of himself, but that didn't hold true to everyone.
Genji kept everyone's at arms length. The only individual he spoke his mind to was Zenyatta, and even then, it wasn't about his love life. Any desire he pushed down, he focused on the blade rather than his heart. That was until he saw someone who caught his eye.
Usually, he would be cordial with anyone he saw as attractive, but he couldn't shake it away when talking to you. The way you smiled at him, the way you played with the hem of your shirt when talking to him, the way your face flushed when he said your name. You blushed when he spoke, and he couldn't help but smile when you did. Weeks passed and you two continued to get closer and closer, he didn't open up much but you could tell he was comfortable around you. He loved how much you had in common, a similar sense in humor and a bond over shared interests.
Genji had caught feelings, and as a leap of faith, he asked you to go on a date. Of course, you said yes. It was Genji, after all. He brought you to a secluded spot out of the city, a place with a perfect view of the night sky. You saw his face for the first time, and after that, you two were inseparable. Eventually, he would start staying the night at your place, always helping with any chores or watching a show together. Nights every once a while turned to once a week, and then all of a sudden, your boyfriend was living with you.
Genji was a joy to live with. He did his part of chores, and rent was always paid in time. But some days, he would be slightly off. He always would brush you off, either saying its pain from training or a rough nights sleep. Eventually, he would say it was medical things to do with his injuries, but it was nothing to worry about. He was used to it. He told you of his past, his near death, and the remnants of his body after his fight. He told you about phantom pain, but brushing it off by saying he has medication for it and you never really questioned him. Genji was an honest man and partner. He never had a reason to be dishonest.
But one day, you both were home. It was one of those days he seemed off. Genji looked horrible. His face was pale, and he was distant. He was just laying on your shared bed.
"Genji, what's wrong? You can tell me."
Genji's eyes shifting slightly to look up to you, he gulped for speaking.
"It's nothing.. just health things."
He told you about his flare-ups of pains, the feeling that his body was still one piece, and it would feel weird or hurt. But you never saw him like this before. You sighed before sitting the bed beside him, running fingers through his hair.
"I can help you, just say the word, and I'll do it."
You felt Genji melt into your touch, a soft hum coming from him.
"Just hold me.. please."
You shifted so you were lying down beside him, his back facing you. Wrapping an arm around his stomach, you nuzzled into the back of his neck, his black hair tickling your face. You felt Genji's body relaxed a bit. You ran your hand up and down his stomach, which seemed to relax him more. He let out another content hum, his human hand reaching to pat your arm.
"Thank you, this.. this helps. It helps me alot more then anything else I've tried for this."
Genji never really went too far into what it was like. You only knew what the internet had to say of what it was like to feel phantom pain. But anything to help your boyfriend was something you were willing to do. Hearing his fast-paced breaths turn to slower and more relaxed ones was enough to make you want to stay there for him. And the soft snores that came from him after only a couple minutes was enough to make you want to stay there forever.
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hey girlll could you do a gin and sprite one please🤭🤭
josh allen x reader
watch your fucking mouth
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JA: It’s Wyoming-OU Hate Week, baby!
You rolled your eyes as you read the text from Josh, already typing a response.
Y/N: Wyoming has to actually be good enough for it to be a real hate week.
JA: Watch your fucking mouth! >:(
Smiling, you walked into the training facility, greeting the other athletic trainers. You’d been with the Bills for a couple of seasons now and had quickly become a player favorite, partly because you were the only trainer under 30.
You set up your table, ready for Keon Coleman to come by for his pre-practice wrap. He greeted you as you were finishing up and hopped onto the table.
"Josh was pouting this morning," he told you with a grin. "Guessing you did something?"
"Why would I be involved?" you asked innocently.
"Hmm, let’s see..." Keon pretended to think. "Maybe because he’s obsessed with you."
"He is not obsessed with me," you said, focusing on his ankle. "It’s Wyoming-OU Hate Week, that’s all."
"I didn’t even know that was a thing," he said, confused.
"It’s not," you deadpanned, making him laugh.
"Are you talking bad about me?" Josh’s voice came from behind you. He was frowning playfully.
"Never," you smirked. "Why are you here? What’s wrong?"
"Nothing. I just came to hear your apology," he said, and you rolled your eyes.
"You’ll miss practice if you wait for that," you shot back. Keon laughed as you tapped his leg, signaling that you were done. He hopped off the table and walked off.
"I think we should bet on this weekend’s game," Josh said, raising an eyebrow.
You crossed your arms, intrigued. "Okay, I’m listening."
"If my Cowboys win, you have to come to a game with me during our bye week," Josh said confidently.
"And if my Sooners win—which they will—you have to take me to Lombardo," you countered.
Lombardo was a fancy Italian restaurant in Buffalo you’d been dying to try. While you made good money as a trainer, it wasn’t quite enough to justify splurging there.
"Deal," Josh said, holding out his hand. You shook it, sealing the bet.
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You grinned widely as you slid into the passenger seat of Josh's car, dressed in a nice red dress with matching heels. OU had kicked the shit out of Wyoming.
"I’ve fasted all week for this," you joked, smirking at Josh, who pouted beside you. He was dressed up in a button-down shirt and slacks, clearly still a little sore about Wyoming’s loss.
The restaurant was even more stunning than you’d imagined. Your skin tingled as Josh gently placed his hand on your back, guiding you to the table.
As you browsed the menu, you stole a glance at Josh. You’d always had a small crush on him—his golden retriever energy had won you over from day one. Seeing him dressed up like this, looking every bit the gentleman, made your heart race. You felt yourself growing warm, thinking about how you had his full attention tonight.
"Should we get a bottle of wine to celebrate?" you teased. "Maybe the $300 one?"
Josh shot you a pointed look, and you laughed.
"I’m just joking. I’ll behave," you promised.
When the waiter came to take your drink orders, he turned to Josh first. Without hesitation, Josh said, "We’ll split the Château Angélus."
You froze, snapping your head up at him. The waiter left, and you were quick to protest. "Josh, that’s way too expensive!"
"You wanted it, princess," he said with a teasing smirk, making you blush.
Your cheeks were still warm from his “princess” comment, and the two of you fell into easy conversation as the night went on. The food was incredible, and the wine tasted just as luxurious as its price tag suggested.
As you finished the last bites of dessert, Josh leaned back in his chair, watching you with a soft smile.
“You know,” he started, a little more serious now. “I’ve been thinking about something.”
You raised an eyebrow, curious. “Oh? What’s that?”
He hesitated for a second, then met your eyes, his voice gentle but sure. “I think we should call this what it is—our first date.”
Your heart skipped a beat, and you blinked at him, stunned. “Our...first date?”
Josh nodded, his expression sincere. “I mean, we spend all our time together anyway, and... I’ve liked you for a while now. I just didn’t know how to say it.” He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “But sitting here with you tonight, it feels right. Feels like it’s time.”
Your heart swelled at his words, warmth spreading through you. “I’ve liked you too,” you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I just didn’t know if you felt the same.”
Josh’s grin widened, his eyes lighting up. “Well, now you know. So, what do you say? Think we could make this official?”
You couldn’t help but smile back at him, your nerves melting away. “I’d like that.”
He reached across the table, taking your hand in his. “Good. Because I don’t plan on losing any more bets to take you out again.”
You laughed, squeezing his hand. “Guess I’ll have to think of another one then.”
The two of you stayed like that for a moment, your hands intertwined, feeling like everything had just fallen into place.
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Nightmares
Pairings: Wandanat x R, Pepper x R (platonic)
Word count: 1.1k
Summary: R has been having trouble sleeping, can her girls figure out why?
TW: implied insomnia, nightmares, night sweats, anxiety, mentions of loss and death, trauma discussion (hydra),
A/n something a bit different. Plus I added in some pepper content because I think she’s cool :)
For the fourth time this week you woke up in a cold sweat. Your pjs sticking to you uncomfortably. Nat and wanda were away on a mission for the week and despite being reluctant to leave you they had to. Director fury’s orders.
It was almost becoming normal for you to spend hours tossing and turning trying to sleep only to wake up in the morning even more tired and feeling gross in the damp sheets and clothes.
With a sigh you pulled back the covers knowing you had to change the sheets again so the room didn’t smell bad. Trudging into the bathroom you peeled off your clothes dumping them in the wash and making a mental note to wash them and the other three pairs of pjs you had soaked through. With am exhausted sigh you stepped into the shower melting at the feeling of the warm water washing off the remnants of an awful sleep.
After a shower, you had changed the sheets before going off in search of breakfast.
Shocked to see pepper standing in the kitchen tapping away on her tablet.
“Pep?” You asked.
“Oh hi y/n/n long time no see huh?” She said looking up. “I had to come remind Tony about the meeting and thought I’d stick around a bit. He was ignoring my calls thinking it would get him out of his work.”
You laughed slightly, their dynamic was adorable. Pepper was motherly to all the avengers and worried a little too much sometimes. On top of the stress of running stark industries you often made her take breaks.
“Honey you look tired, are you feeling ok sweets?” She asked coming and laying a hand on your forehead.
“Im fine, just haven’t slept well lately.” You shrugged as she removed her hand and frowned.
“Well, I know a but about not sleeping from Tony’s late night adventures in the lab. And i know how important it is to sleep. As well as how stressful it can be for your partner to be risking their life somewhere off grid.” She smiled softly.
“Yeah, it’s tough. But I’m doing ok.” You said.
“Well the bags under your beautiful eyes say otherwise.” She smiled, pepper had always been a flirt, it was her way at getting back at tony for his earlier days as a playboy. Of course you and pepper were just friends but it was fun to get under Tony’s skin. He was very protective of pepper and probably always will be. “i think wanda and Natasha might be getting back early as well. I’ve had Jarvis keeping tabs on them for you and he says their work was almost done around lunch time yesterday.”
“We got back last night actually.” A voice came from the doorway and you turned launching yourself into Nat’s arms. “Hello my love.” She said placing a kiss on the top of your head. “Now whats this about not sleeping?” She asked tilting your head up to face her.
“Its nothing.” You said and before she could reply you felt a tap on your shoulder. Spinning around you launched yourself at wanda, wrapping you legs around her waist. She chuckled and stabilised herself against the wall.
“Sweets you look tired. And i know you missed us and probably haven’t eaten breakfast.” She said studying your face.
“Why don’t you and natty take a nap in our bed and I’ll make breakfast for the three of us and pepper. Because we all know she hasn’t eaten.” She said shooting pepper a look returned with a sheepish smile. The only one who more of a mother than pepper was wanda despite being one the youngest of the team. She just had a natural caring instinct.
“Alright. Sounds good to me.” Nat said as wanda passed you to her. You laid your head onto her shoulder and closed your eyes. Wanda cooed at your sleepy form.
“Go take our baby to get some sleep and I’ll call you down a bit later.” Wanda said.
“And you.” She turned to pepper. “Are going to drink a glass of water and not just coffee and take a shower while i get breakfast ready. God knows you could use one to relax a bit.” She said and pepper saluted and walked off to her part time room in the compound chuckling to herself softly and still tapping away on her tablet.
You didn’t remember falling asleep but you woke up to a hand on your shoulder and a familiar wetness on your clothes.
“Baby are you ok?” Nat’s worried voice came
“Yeah ‘s normal.” You said slurring slightly
“Baby how long has this been going on.”
“Four five nights.” You said sitting up and getting up to change again.
After another shower and Nat had changed the sheets you walked back down to see how wanda was doing with breakfast.
“Hello sleepyhead, just in time.” She smiled and you saw pepper sitting at the table with damp hair freshly showered and beaming at you and the promise of real food and not just coffee.
After the four of you had eaten and wanda began to clean up you were sat chatting to pepper as wanda and Natasha were in the kitchen.
“Y/n/ns been having trouble sleeping. She’s exhausted and when i woke her up she was covered in sweat.” Nat said to wanda frowning.
“Oh poor girl, i forgot this time of year is always hard for her. But she’s been doing so well lately it completely slipped my mind.”
“Why is this time of year hard?” Nat asked drying off a plate with a towel.
“Its the time of year that hydra killed her brother. I held her for days in that cell until she couldn’t cry anymore tears.” Wanda said with a sigh. “Its been five years but i think us being away only intensified her anxieties about loosing loved ones, she’s most likely been having nightmares and hence the sweating.” “Aww our sweet girl.” Nat said shaking her head.
After the kitchen was clean wanda and nat led you back to your shared room. Promising they would never leave you in this time of the year again. You had teared up, thanking them and as you fell asleep in their arms that night you didn’t have nightmares for once. Knowing your girls were safe in your bed.
MASTERLIST
#pepper Potts#tony stark#marvel#the avengers#wanda maximoff#wandanat#natasha romanov#natasha romaoff#wanda marvel#hurt/comfort#whump#fanfic#sickfic#fluff#wandanat x r#wandanat comfort#pepper comfort#marvel comfort fic#fic#pepper Potts x reader#stark industries#nightmares#trauma#comfort#sicfic#tony stark x pepper Potts#marvel comfort#insomnia#anxitey#anxious reader
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