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2knightt · 4 months

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may u do the gang with a significant other who is in a popular band or actor? up to four preference of course. lots of love!

୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ darling, can i be your favourite? ⋄ 𓍯

REQUESTED: reader’s the coolest person ever and the gang’s their biggest fan!

tags/warnings: headcanons, gn!reader, reader is a singer/popstar!reader, gang is obsessed, reader is big time famous, near the end they got shorter because my tumblr started lagging.

ೃauthor notes⁀➷ hey my love !!! seen this after i posted and knew i had to get to work 🙂‍↕️ also while i was working on this, i got a req for actor!reader..ur in luck🤭

—

johnny cade

╰┈➤ now playing. — espresso, y/n l/n

how he bagged you, the world may never know. like seriously.

YOU’RE ON THE BIG SCREEN AND YOU’RE IN THE RADIO AND YOU GO AFTER JOHNNY CADE??? everyone was shocked. lives were CHANGED.

“you’re dating who?”

“..y/n l/n?”

“in your dreams maybe???”

“fuck you?”

nobody believed him because you confessed to him over the phone when you were touring 😔! you realized you really liked johnny when you had to be away from him for so long.

so for like that period of time, it was just call after call of you two giggling back and forth.

the gang, swear to fucking god, knew he was talking to someone but they thought he was lying about who he was talking to

UNTIL YOU CAME BACK!!!!

Then they were all,

“what the fuck….”

“can i like—borrow a 20?”

“DAMN”

spoil him. take him with you. protect johnny cade with ur money or else. i find you.

but seriously, pleaseeee make sure johnny lives the life he deserves ☹️ since you’re a singer, you make a FUCK ton of money

put it to good use (spending it on johnny cade)

hey! you’re all he talks about!! HE DOESN’T STFU THAT HE’S DATING SOMEONE THAT’S FAMOUS.

“what ‘bout you, lil’ boy? you got someone?”

“hell yeah. y/n l/n.😇💯”

“..the singer?”

“damn right, ‘the singer’!”

listens to your music when he misses you!!

OH MU GOD WRITE A SONG ABOUT JOHNNY CADE PLEASEEEE AND WEAR HIS JEAN JACKRT ON STAGE PLEASEEEEEEE

i can’t stress how much he loves you

he has photos of you everywhere. and anywhere.

steals magazines you model for to promote your albums<3

dallas winston

╰┈➤ now playing — nonsense, y/n l/n.

why would you pick him.

shame on you. you have celebrities flocking to you and you pick some guy in tulsa who��s in jail every friday.

tsk tsk. whatever makes you happy!

ANYWAYS

also, never shuts the fuck up about you. like seriously, somehow, you’re always the topic of conversation.

“yeah, that’s crazy that she slashed your tires. my LOVELY Y/N would never tho. did you know they sing? you’ve probably heard of ‘em-“

MAKES YOU WEAR HIS RINGS WHEN YOU PERFORM!!! AND SOMETIMES HIS LEATHER JACKET!!! DALLAS DGAF IF IT’S DIRTY OR NOT

He needs those freaks in the crowd to know you’re HIS—not theirs just because you’re famous.

if you ever collab with a dude he’s gonna fucking lose his mind i’m not kidding

“YOU’RE GOING TO THE STUDIO WITH WHO???”

“i told you-“

“yeah, i know. lets go.”

dallas invited himself btw.

dedicate a song to him and he’s literally gonna make EVERYONE listen to it. when it comes on the radio, he’s IMMEDIATELY turning up the volume.

“looking at you got me thinkin’ nonsense.”

“that’s about me, by the way.”

“WE KNOW.”

“YOU TELL US THIS EVERY DAMN DAY”

“yeah. where’s your partner that write songs about you? huh? take that shit up with someone else.”

IN HIS ROOM HE HAS SOOO MANY POSTERS OF YOUUUUUU

cannot believe he got so lucky and bagged you

he used to pray for days like these😭😭🙏

ponyboy curtis

╰┈➤ now playing — work song, y/n l/n.

yes, i did make your song more poetic than the rest. that’s just what ponyboy is into and gets him crying.

did he get lucky? yeah. does he acknowledge that every waking moment of his life and devotes himself to making sure you never feel the burden of having to perform daily?

yeah

helps you write songs sometimes. ponyboy naturally has a poets soul so USE IT TO YOUR ADVANTAGE

GUVE HIM A FUCKING OEN AND PAPER AND HE’S WRITING A HIT SINGLE

omgomg if you credit him while at your concerts he might faint<3333

spoil him and his brothers.

his brothers are included because you see how much they’re struggling and it literally pains you to see the love of ur life get so frustrated over money

sneakily put money into darry’s wallet when he isn’t looking and ponyboy might just kiss u right then and there

it’ll take awhile for him to accept the help, but when he does—he’s so grateful to have an angel like u in his life😭😭💔💔💔

“i love you. did you know that?”

“of course i do, pony.”

“i should tell you that more often.”

uses a photo of you as a bookmark btw. it’s you in his favourite outfit you ever wore, performing the song you made for him.

ponyboy’s obsessed.

shoves ANYONE off the tv to watch you perform. he doesn’t care. and the gang lets him<3 cuz they know how much you mean to their little pony!!

not without teasing. never without teasing. ponyboy is never fucking free

“soda, it’s my turn on the tv.”

“what? you tryna watch your girlfriend?”

“…shut up.”

“look at you! what a loverboy, huh? you loveeeee her, don’t you?”

“man, just get off the tv!”

watches & listens to everything you’re in. wether it be interviews, music videos, etc—he can probably quote it. every part.

he’s so obsessed with you it’s not fucking funny

sodapop curtis

╰┈➤ now playing — that boy is mine, y/n l/n.

it couple. genuinely.

you got soda more publicity and modeling agencies have definitely hit him up LMFAO

he most definitely has modelled with you for covers :3c

BUT OTHER THAN THAT

oh u better fucking believe that the DX is always playing your music

SODA DOESNT CARE IF HE’S NOT ALLOWED TO TOUCH THE RADIO

he will. and he will be playing the song you made about him to remind the girls that go to flirt with him that he’s yours.

HE HAS A NECKLACE WITH YOUR INITAL ON IT AND YOU HAVE A NECKLACE WITH HIS INITAL!!1!1!1!1!1

flash it when paparazzi takes photos and he WILL put that photo in his wallet to show people when they ask about his partner.

CANT STFU EVEN IF HE FUCKING TRIED

soda makes u his whole personality

“sigh😔 y/n would’ve loved this beat..”

“SHUT UP ABOUT Y/N😒”

“NO?? I LOVE THEM!!!???”

LOVES PRACTICING UR CHOREOGRAPHY WITH YOU LMFAOOO

it’s so cute☹️☹️😔😔 soda might trip over his feet every once and awhile but he’s always laughing so hard with you when he does<3

darry curtis

╰┈➤ now playing — say yes to heaven, y/n l/n.

tries SOOOO hard to act like he doesn’t gaf that you’re singer but it’s so tough to not brag about it

the boys at work could be talking about their partners but when they go ask darry, he hides his grin and blush by looking down, running his hands through his hair.

“what ‘boutchu, kid? how’s the lover?”

“ah, y’know. they’re busy touring or in the studio.”

“eh?”

“oh—y/n l/n. they’re-“

darry cannot be stopped now. he won’t shut up about how great of a person you are, never letting the fame get to you.

ERAHHH HE STAYS UP LATE AT NIGHT TO WATCH YOUR PERFORMANCES WHEN YOU’RE AWAY!!!!!!! HE LOVES WATCHING YOU SWAY ACROSS THE STAGE!!

hehehehehe slow dance with him in the kitchen to ur unreleased songs you made about him…. 😈😈

PLEAEE HELP HIM FINANCIALLY PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

im begging you to just sit darry curtis down and try to convince him that, you giving him money to help around, isn’t an issue.

i don’t see darry moving out of the curtis house unfortunately, i think he will always view it as his parents house and it’s too sentimental.

so, don’t even bother asking him to move. but—do give him money. or sneakily pay the bills. whatever you have to do to help darry relax, please do it!!!

loves it when you sing slower/more relaxing songs

darry thinks it’s so attractive to hear your like soothing, breathy, and smooth voice.

he has a photo framed of you bowing toward the crowd below you, tightly holding the microphone that you had his name engraved in.

it’s currently beside his bed on his nightstand.

he looks at it every night before bed and every morning before work. <3

steve randle

╰┈➤ now playing — art deco, y/n l/n.

he’s feral. he’s fucking crazy about you.

“PUT ON THAT NEW Y/N SHIT‼️”

“why??”

“CAUSE I SAID SO?!1”

number one supporter. nobody comes close to him

AHHHH HE HAS A TATTOO DEDICATED TO YOU!!!! IT’S DEFINITELY A SONG LYRIC YOU WROTE ABOUT HIM IN UR HAND WRITING

when steve’s nervous he traces over it :3c

steve always finds himself, unconsciously, humming your songs while he works on cars!

i like to think his favourite colour is blue, so plsplsplspls wear blue (even if it’s a small accessory) to your concerts just so steve knows you’re always thinking about him.

he keeps little gifts, or rather the accessories you leave at his house, in a little box. he thinks they’re so cute and he will burn a building down before he lets anyone find out

two-bit mathews

╰┈➤ now playing — melting, y/n l/n.

“DID YOU KNOW I’M DATING Y/N? THE FAMOUS SINGER? YEAH, BET YOU WISH THAT WAS YOU😭😂!”

that’s every other sentence from his stupid lips!!

KNOWS EVERY LYRIC TO YOUR SONGS AND WILL SCREAM HIS FUCKING LUNGS OUT TO THEM!!!

attach a mickey charm to ur mic while you sing on stage and he’ll start foaming at the mouth..

two-bit’s all, “that’s for me.:mickey….me….me…mickey….”

he literally begs you to sing him to sleep

STEALS YOUR RECORDS/VINYLS???!!! HE HANGS THEM UP ON HIS WALL WITH SUCH CARE IT’S SO ADORABLE ☹️☹️

teach his little sister some of your dance moves and he might marry you tbh.

two-bit dreams of you and i’m so fucking serious

#2knightt #spotify links for songs you’ve written about them under their names btw #click them #or don’t #whatever #the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #dallas winston x reader #johnny cade x reader #ponyboy x reader #ponyboy curtis x reader #sodapop x reader #sodapop curtis x reader #darry curtis x reader #steve randle x reader #two-bit x reader #two-bit mathews x reader

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bywons · 8 months

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୨୧ NERD!CLASSMATE! — lee heesung ( headcannons )

pairing. nerd!classmate! lee heesung x f!reader w.c. 0.7k tw/cw. kissing genre. non idol au, highschool/college au, fluff

sru's note. find me a boy like this cause I NEED HIM!🗣️ kinda long fic lolol feedbacks and reblogs are always appreciated!

requested by this sweet anon ☆

m.list ⏐ requests are open! ⏐ navi

nerd!classmate! heesung who is oblivious to all the girls' infatuated eyes around him, whispering and giggling about him whenever he passes by.

nerd!classmate! heesung who is always seen with his books and projects almost every time.

nerd!classmate! heesung who rejects to tutor all the popular girls or even go on a date with them, coming up with the unchanging excuse that he's always occupied with studies. but he knows they're all infatuations.

nerd!classmate! heesung who only has his eyes on you, secretly admiring you from afar for god knows how long, he's just drowning in your beauty, your kindness, your smile, just you.

nerd!classmate! heesung who's heart is beating out of chest everytime the group projects or lab practicals are around, afterall he wants to be partners with only you :(

nerd!classmate! heesung who hides secret love notes throughout your spent time in the project together, which are obvious yet opaque.

nerd!classmate! heesung who proposes to tutor you in maths cause you're weak at it :( but obviously he has his own motives.

nerd!classmate! heesung who gives you tough and long numericals deliberately just so he can admire your pretty face, so he can brush your hair back softly or even pinch your cheeks in the meanwhile, just to see your flushed and embarrassed face which makes his pupils dilate.

"you know, i really wondered how your cheeks are always so flushed," "oh? i'm using a new blush---!", "i hope it's because of me one day,"

nerd!classmate! heesung who has you folding and fawning over his genius pick up lines, he has you blushing the most!! the other bois can't compete!!

your friends often make fun and poke at you for spending too much time with nerd!classmate! heesung nowadays, but you can't help it! he's too wholesome with his rants about his fav movie the toy story, about buzz lightyear! you could listen to him for hours!

not a second spent with nerd!classmate! heesung is boring or flat. he's always got you occupied with his antics, whether it's movies or deep talks with you.

nerd!classmate! heesung who sends you all the class notes you missed when you were sick, drawing a heart on each page <3 but he also gives you his own notes too tho >.<

nerd!classmate! heesung who lets you draw over his notebooks anytime, sometimes he also cuts them up and saves them!

nerd!classmate! heesung who writes you cute letters and drops them in your locker whenever you're feeling down or insecure, he appreciates every feature of you in those letter :( sometimes he also drops chocolates :(

nerd!classmate! heesung who offers to carry your bag around school and back home, saying it's too heavy for you.

nerd!classmate! heesung who attends your extra classes for you when you're not feeling well, he also offers his shoulder for you to sleep on :(

nerd!classmate! heesung who buys your favourite snacks and stationeries for you, and no matter how much you tell him not to he won't stop! he just wants to spoil you :(

nerd!classmate! heesung who pulls you aside from the booming music at the party, and takes you to quiet place of fresh air and tranquility, so he can confess to you >.<

nerd!classmate! heesung who can't help but be all reddened up when he's proposing to you, stuttering and mumbling in his own words as he keeps looking down, yet holding your hands in his.

"y/n, i don't know for h-how long but, I've always been in love with you."

and when you flush back and whisper your mutual love back to him, nerd!classmate! heesung cant help but smile in glee and pick you up in his strong arms, twirling you around while you two laugh like idiots in love <3

nerd!classmate! heesung who takes your breathe by pushing you against the wall and stealing your first kiss. it was so sweet, yet it made your heart beat like crazy!

nerd!classmate! heesung who's not a green flag, but the whole green forest <3 he makes you believe in love, in soulmates and destiny.

nerd!classmate! heesung is your one and only <3

taglist: open! CLICK ON THE LINK TO BE ADDED!

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artstatues · 1 month

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sweet boy. - a.w‎‎‎‎‎

wc : 339

pairings : aaron warner x fem!reader

synopsis : unfortunately, aaron's been extremely busy the past couple of days.

warnings : workaholic aaron, nothing much tho.

a/n : short drabble. writing mood today but had 0 ideas for the last hour or two, finally came up with this lmao

taglist : @never-enough-novels @reminiscentreader @kozumesphone @lxvebelle @shuhuaspookie

@off-to-the-r4ces @starrynightsxo @flowers-for-em

you sat on the office couch, eyes directed at your too focused boyfriend rather than the book in your hands. you loved aaron, you really did, but he’s been awfully busy for the last few days, too busy to give you any attention. only short good mornings, or good nights. he’d be gone when you woke up, and absent when you went to bed. you were sure he’s absolutely exhausted. the bags under his eyes becoming more prominent day by day. only did he look up from his laptop screen, or his papers say “oh, hello love,” or something like that.

you understood him. you knew he wanted to rave about how much he loved you, you knew how he wanted to lay in your lap and watched as you went on about your day. yet, he couldn’t. he has a full time job as the supreme commander. oh how you missed your aaron.

every time you’ve called him over to take a break, he’d simply say “5 more minutes love, i promise.” but did he fulfill those promises? no. just sweet nothings.

“love?” he called.

“yes aaron?” you smiled down at him, staring at you from your lap.

“how was your day?” he inquired, causing you to put your book down.

“so-.....”

“aaron?” you tried, looking up from your book, some form of despair in your eyes, and your tone. “yes, love?” he looked up from his screen. you’re sure that was the first time he made full eye contact with you in the last 7 hours. you've been on this couch for 3. it’s 10.36 pm. “c’mere?” you patted your lap. his eyes looked dead, his eye bags only slightly covered by the frame of his working glasses. he unexpectedly got up and walked closer towards you. soon enough, he found peace on your lap, laying down sideways, staring at god knows what. you gently ran your hands into his hair, playing with a few strands. “oh my sweet boy.” you hummed.

how you’ve missed this…

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thoughtsfromlayla · 6 months

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Dreamweaver's Heart

Summary: The Dream Lord takes fascination to a new lucid dreamer in his realm, his Dreamweaver. The waking world is less than kind and he will travel dimensions to make sure you are safe.

Notes: ~8.6k, this was a request sent in by Anon based on this post! Otherwise, I'm sorry for having this fic take such a dark turn? It was supposed to be sweet but then in my search for more Tom Sturridge films, I came across Like Minds and it fucked with me. So now it fucks with my writing until further notice.

Warnings: Don't ever get attached to the characters I make for the plot, graphic descriptions of gore, death, murder, and drowning, betrayal of a friend, nonconsensual kissing (not from Dream), graphic serial killer activities, run in with a serial killer. Dream's a dream tho, a knight in black armor <3 Happy ending :D

I'm not going to say it's 18+, because it's not NSFW, but some of these themes can be disturbing. Please read the tags carefully.

Masterlist

“One, two, three, four, five, okay,” You count your right-hand fingers to yourself. Then cast your eyes on the watch you always carried on your wrist.

“8:13,” You take another look at your surroundings and take in the fresh air and kind sun. “AM,” you concluded.

You look back to your fingers and count again. “One, two, three, four, five,” You listed off in your head. Then one more time look at your watch. This time it read 5:15 PM, but the sun hadn’t moved. A grin crawls up to your face as you realize that you were dreaming. Lucid dreaming to be more specific.

When you first heard about lucid dreaming in some off-handed news article you rolled your eyes and went on with your morning. There wasn’t much time in your life to worry about those things, not when another project was due, you had another meeting to attend, or another email to look at. But then life got unbearably hard to live with, stress kept piling up, and your vacation hours kept being declined.

Your dreams turned from weird but forgettable dreams to nightmares of being chased, drowned, or murdered, only for you to both feel and witness again and again. When you wake up in a sweat at the ungodly midnight hours, you open your phone to find the news article again. It took you well over a month to get the hang of lucid dreaming but it was all worth the cognitive effort. Each time you go to sleep you count your fingers, then your clock, then your fingers, and then your clock again. There are always telltale signs that you were dreaming, dreams tend to never make sense so you look for those things.

You intake another fresh breath of air and smile, head tilted towards the sun. The city air was polluted with car fumes and sewage smells, and while you loved the city, you do miss the easier days back in the countryside. You imagine the lush meadows, old trees, and the house that your grandfather hand-built for him and his wife. Before you the scenery changes and you’re sitting on a hand-carved rocking chair in a thin shirt and shorts.

“This is the life,” You groan out to yourself as you begin the rock back and forth, thighs and arms trembling from a stretch. You stay like that for god knows how long, the waking world not a priority of your thoughts as you had the next day off.

You only get up when sweat begins to collect along your hairline and the sunhat you are wearing begins to become itchy. A farm dog comes up to you and pants at your side urging you to go inside the house, maybe for a cup of lemonade, which sounded delicious the more you thought about it.

When you look into the house from the windowed front door, a black figure briefly catches your eyes. It walks within the kitchen, running a finger across the worn wooden table and tracing lines of chipped paint over the tops of chairs. Confusion eclipses your face as his figure distorts on the thick glass and you open the door quickly.

Much to your surprise, there was no such figure when the door opened. Your heart beats inside your chest and you look down at your fingers again. One, two, three, four, five… six. Six fingers, which is odd. You exhale slowly, it’s just a dream you say to yourself and carry on.

While sitting at the kitchen table you pinch your index and thumb together then bring both hands until they meet the other’s fingers. You pull them apart and a delicate golden string connects the fingers together. With a calming inhale of breath you move your fingers purposefully, drawing a picture of lemonade with a glass cup. If only it were this easy in the waking world.

Lemonade appears on the kitchen table in a glass pitcher and you pour yourself a cup, chugging down the citrusy-sweet drink with a smile. You sit for a while, not particularly thinking of anything, your job had you doing enough of that. The kitchen window was open and you could feel the summer wind and hear the leaves rustling and mourning doves cooing. It was a scene straight out of your childhood, and if you concentrated enough you could hear the lawn mower going in the distance, the smell of freshly cut grass invading the house.

A bark interrupts your serenity and you look over to the farm dog. He’s patiently sitting by his food bowl with a wagging tail. A small box of dog food appears on a nearby shelf and you go to him with a smile.

“Are you hungry, boy?” You ask and reach for the kibble. He barks back in return and watches you intently as you pour a small serving. You then thought to yourself that, well, this is a dream and can dogs get diabetes in dreams? Probably not, so you dump the rest of the kibble into his bowl. It piled higher and higher and you can see a satisfied glint in the dog’s eyes as it begins to chow down on its food.

You wipe your hands off on your shorts and toss the empty box into some unknown void in the hallway and go back to the kitchen. This time, however, two glasses were accompanying the pitcher. One, the glass you just drank out of, and the other, a half-drunk glass of lemonade. The condensation of the cool drink was still on the glass and you could see a clear handprint of where someone had grabbed it.

You look back at the dog and notice that he is missing and panic sets in again. You look outside the window and the sun disappears, clouds rolling in with a sheet of rain. The ground around you starts to become wet despite the intact roof and it floods over your feet. The water fills up the space quickly.

You try to calm your breathing and will the water to go away, for the sun to come back, anything to have your hours of peace before you have to wake up. But, nothing worked and the water came over your hips, and you’re hyperventilating now. The rain comes in through the windows in large gushes of water and you find yourself stuck in place, unable to move.

“Wake up, wake up!” You chant to yourself, tears beading along your lower lash line. You pinch at yourself and are exasperated when you still don’t wake. The water felt too real, it was cold and piercing and you could feel the twigs and leaves of debris that brushed against your legs now and then. “This isn’t funny, wake up!” You cry to yourself again as the water rises higher.

Behind you, in the shadows, the Dream Lord watches with intent. He always had a fascination with lucid dreamers, after all, they were able to minorly manipulate dreams to their whim. Something that the Dream King wouldn’t admit hurt his ego a little bit… just a smudge. But he had been watching your dreams lately and found it fascinating that you never dreamed of anything grand. No mystical adventure, no aspirations, and certainly no dreams of a more… sexual nature. Which, if he was allowed to comment, may be the reason why you were so stressed in the waking world and needed to find peace in his instead.

“This dream is over,” He commands and waves his hand over the scene.

You wake with a start, the sweat you produced while sleeping made your shirt stick to you uncomfortably and reminded you of your dream. You’re quick to get rid of it and throw it into your laundry hamper, now topless and rushing to the bathroom for a cold shower to calm you down. When you were done, your weekend alarm still hadn’t gone off and you were tempted to go back to sleep again.

Eventually, you decided against it, unless you wanted to repeat what just happened. Purposeful, dreamless sleep hasn’t found you in a long time and you doubt it would come back just on a whim. You watch the sunrise in your apartment, sighing as sleep tugs at your body still. The cup of hot coffee in your hands felt more like decoration than anything useful as it didn’t give you the energy you craved.

Thankfully you had nothing to do on your day off and you pat your past self on the back for going grocery shopping last night instead of making you do it today. You spend the rest of the day in bed, reading books on your Kindle and taking breaks by mindlessly scrolling through different forms of social media. Sleep tugs on your eyes but no matter how much you try to sleep, even a nap escapes you.

The day goes by at a molasses-like pace, you don’t even remember eating. But once the sun has set and the stars made their debut, you happily resign as sleep overcomes you. The Kindle falls somewhere off your bed as you lose consciousness. When you come to your dreams, you’re greeted by a whale… in a tutu.

Your laughter is hard to contain at the sight as you watched it dance on its fins to Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy, part of your favorite ballet to watch when you were younger. It splashes some water on you and you use your hands to cover your face. It’s then that you remember to count your fingers.

“One, two, three, four, five,” All five fingers. What time was it? You repeat the ritual that has been so ingrained in your head and when you notice that you only have four fingers on your second count, you know then that you have control over the dream.

“Thank you for your entertainment tonight, my friend,” You wave goodbye to it as the scenery changes around you.

You’re back out in nature. A low-hanging tree greets you instead and a white and red checkered blanket is laid before it. The blanket had a mighty spread of slices of bread, jams, cheeses, meats, and tea. You make your way over and sit on the soft blanket, slowly picking the foods to taste. The atmosphere was perfect and the wind blew the smell of fresh water into your nose from the nearby pond. Ducks and geese honk at each other in greeting as they swim by.

Deeper in the picnic basket was more food, but you found them in pairs. Two sandwiches, two teacups, and two dessert cakes. You quizzically stare at them as you hold the two sandwiches, one in each hand. You didn’t eat that much, did you?

“I see that you have started without me,” A voice comments.

You jump in your skin at the sudden intrusion and look up. You see a man, dressed in casual black with an impressive coat.

“Isn’t it a bit too warm to wear such a long coat?” You ask instead.

You don’t protest when he sits next to you and hand him a sandwich instead. He places the wrapped food gently on the ground before taking off his jacket.

“Better?” He asks as he goes to grab his sandwich again.

“Hmm,” You only hum in agreement and start to unwrap your own. It’s a few minutes of silent chewing before you realize how weird this is. “Wait, who are you?”

“No one you haven’t met before,” He answers vaguely. His sandwich was left untouched except for the bread which he threw at the ducks near the pond.

You chew slowly as you try to digest his answer. He pours you a cup of tea which you drink freely from, murmuring a thanks as he hands you the fine china. The smell of vanilla and peaches invades your senses as you sip on the sweet tea. The favor takes you by surprise at how wonderfully it paired with the sandwich. By the end of the picnic, you have learned two things, your mystery man was great company, and that carbs made you comatose.

“Oh, my god. I don’t think I’ve ever eaten that much food in one sitting,” You sigh happily as you lay down on the blanket. Your head hits the hard ground and an idea sparks in you.

Once again you pinch your fingers together and then bring your hands together. You intertwine and loop the golden strings that emit from your movements, much like an old childhood game of yours, Cat’s Cradle, and produce a small pillow.

You place the pillow down and give it a good smack before laying down again. The sun envelopes you in a kind warmth that makes you smile. You see dancing shadows behind your eyelids when you close them to enjoy the moment.

You hear rustling beside you and turn your head towards the man lying down beside you. He really was quite beautiful, something more than a man, perhaps a deity. He is lost in thought, almost, as he thinks about your abilities, but he keeps his thoughts to himself.

“You have a great side profile, you know?” You don’t know why you said that, but rarely in dreams do you know why anything happens.

Your comment makes him chuckle, a sound that you wish to hear again. It was light-hearted and pure, something that you wouldn’t expect to hear from someone who looked like him. You couldn’t help but laugh along, finding his happiness contagious.

“Thank you,” He says when he is done laughing.

When the giggles leave your body, you go back to relaxing and soon you doze off. The rest of the dream is peaceful and pure, no more nightmares to haunt you tonight. The Dream Lord looks at you fondly as the wind blows some of your hair astray, happy to assist you for once in his realm. As long as he is here, you won’t have to fight your demons on your own again.

The next morning was the first time in a long time that you felt energized. The old coffee pot is nearly forgotten as you get ready to go on a morning walk, something you have done in a long while. Afterward, a shower, and then lunch with an old friend you haven’t seen in months. He had decided to drop by after his work allowed him to come into the city.

You meet with Oliver at a local cafe and you order tea this time around, along with some soup and a side salad. The AC is on full blast as more and more people come into the small building. You were lucky to find Oliver already waiting for you at a small table by the large windows. He waves at you when you come close enough and then pushes his glasses back into place.

“How have you been, Poppet?” He starts right off the bat with a smile, using the same nickname he’s been using since grade 3. That smile brings you back all the way to your younger days when you first met him as your new neighbor.

You think briefly about possibly mentioning your horrid dreams to him but decide to skip it, seeing as you didn’t want to ruin the mood for today, not to mention the peaceful dream you had last night all but almost made you forget it in its entirety.

“Oh, you know me, running around like a chicken with its head cut off.” You joke with a self-deprecating laugh. Your comment makes you realize that you have to go to work the next day and deal with annoying clients all over again. “Same shit, different day,” You mutter in conclusion.

Both of your foods arrive just in time for you to ignore the glare he sent your way. Instead, you find fascination in the soup you choose, the same soup you had for the past three years of your life.

“What brings you into town?” You ask as you pick apart the complimentary bread.

“Work, of course. Though I never thought it would bring me to this place.” He gestures to the city around him.

Oliver works as a farm veterinarian so, rarely, does he come into a large city where each piece of green is covered in concrete or chewed gum. And, of course, there are no farm animals around. He goes on to talk about a conference that he was invited to, something to do with the fight on farm animal antibiotics. You only nod along as you ate your lunch, your talents lie elsewhere but don't want to seem rude.

Only scraps of your meal are left when the two decide that it is time to depart ways.

“How long are you staying in the city?” You ask outside the cafe. The weather was almost perfect today, save for the slightly chilling wind that came every now and then.

“About a week.” Oliver puts on his jacket and then pushes his round glasses back in place.

“A week, huh?” You thought out loud before a smile came to your face. “You should come by the exhibit later this week. My client is showcasing their art, and going together would be fun.”

“I’ll be there.” Oliver takes the business card you hand him, the heavy paper turns from warm white to gray as the sun disappears behind some clouds.

Rain begins to drizzle and splatter on the card.

“Aw, man. What?” You complain and put your jacket over your head as the rain continues to fall. “There wasn’t a rain forecast today,” You grumble to yourself.

The two of you step under the cafe awning, the thin fabric providing little protection.

“Do you want to stay at my place until the rain lets up? It’s just a few blocks from here.” You offer.

“Lead the way, Poppet,” Oliver says with a smile.

You smile back as you hype yourself to run through the rain. Thank god you wore sensible shoes today. With a squeal, you run in the direction of your apartment. You hear Oliver laughing behind you as he follows closely behind. Your laughter and giggles continue when you two find the comfort of your apartment and quickly turn up the thermostat when you get inside.

“Wow, you’ve decorated the place nicely,” Oliver whistles his approval.

He kindly sets his dripping jacket on the coat rack before you do the same and thank him. He shakes his head, much like a dog, you mused, to get rid of the water as his hair splays out from his actions. You, the more sensible one, simply wrung it out over the kitchen sink.

“Yeah, if work can’t destress me why should my own home be?” You nodded along.

The storm had raged harder ever since you got inside, the rain pelting on the window. If you didn’t have company over, you would’ve tossed all chores to the side and huddled up for a nap. Sleeping has been wonderful ever since you figured out lucid dreaming.

“Poppet, you got a remote for this giant T.V, or what?” Oliver says as he pokes his hands between couch cushions.

“Erm, yeah, somewhere on the T.V. stand.” Your comment was absent minded as you poke around in your small pantry for some snacks.

Your eyes lock on packets of hot chocolate you didn’t know you had and what could be more perfect than a rainy day and hot chocolate with a friend? You squint at the box, looking for the expiration date. When you find it, and see that it’s been expired since last christmas, you pretend you don’t.

There’s probably enough preservative to make the powdered drink last until the end of days, right? Plus who is throwing out food like this? In this economy? You scoff to yourself.

“Want hot chocolate?” You ask, peeking at Oliver’s form in the living room.

He stands in front of the T.V., hip slightly popped out to support himself with a hand on his hip and the other on the remote. The news comes on instead of your usual menu of different streaming services and a confused look takes over Oliver’s face when he turns around.

“No, not that remote, the other one,” You laughed and went ahead to the fridge to warm up some milk anyway.

“Which remote, you have, like, 13 for no reason!” He cries out exasperated but goes to the stand to find the correct remote.

The news continues to play and with nothing better to do, you listen in while you wait for your milk to warm up.

“There has been a recent murder here in our lovely city and we encourage citizens to remain vigilant. The killer has not yet been caught and there is no pattern as to what kind of victims they take.” The news anchor speaks.

“Oh, shit.” Oliver stops his search as he, too, starts listening in to the news.

“Welcome to the city, I guess,” You shrug with a defeated sigh. The milk starts to shimmer before you turn off the stove.

“Still, you should stay safe,” Oliver comments as he finally finds the correct remote, turning in to a streaming service and picking a light hearted movie. You’re mixing the chocolate powder, spoon clinking against the non-matching mugs, and when you don’t answer right away, Oliver presses again. “You will be safe, right?”

“Yes, mom,” You sarcastically groan. “I’ll be safe.”

“That’s my Poppet,” He chides, some of his accent slipping through, and sits down. He opens an arm for you to sit next to him before you hand him the hot chocolate that you made.

“Careful, it’s ho-”

“JESUS!” Oliver exclaims as his face flies away from the mug. His shocked face makes your own burst out into laughter, so much so that you have to set down your mug so that you don’t spill it all over yourself.

“Are you laughing at my pain?” Oliver jokes and pokes your sides.

The ticklish action only makes you laugh harder, if that was at all possible. Seeing your reaction, Oliver goes to poke you again, and you defend weakly as your laughing makes you all but weak.

“Sto-stop, you’re going to make me pee,” You choke out between fits of giggles. Your hands were clenched to your sides as a last ditch effort to conceal your weak points. Your cheeks were starting to hurt and your smile was so wide that you couldn’t even open your eyes anymore. You were simply at the mercy of feeling true happiness.

Oliver eventually stops and the T.V. goes into a mandatory ad break (I mean, you’re not going to pay for no ads after already paying for the streaming service, let’s be real). Your energy is sapped out of you and you deflate into the couch with a satisfied sigh.

“That was the first time tonight I heard you laugh that hard. Has the city been that mean to you?” Oliver asks, now cautiously sipping his drink.

“The city is not mean, it’s just different than home,” You reply with a roll of your eyes. “I wouldn’t change it for anything though.”

Oliver hums in response, whipped cream stuck on his upper lips. You could tell he wanted to say more but decided to keep quiet instead. Eventually, the two of you fell into a comfortable and familiar silence as you watched the rest of the movie.

You ended up crying at a particular scene and Oliver, same old Oliver, poked at you again to try and get you laughing. The rain still hasn't stopped and you’re glad to live on a higher floor of the apartment complex or else you would’ve had to worry about potential flooding.

At the end of the day, you ended up cooking dinner for the two of you as well, convincing Oliver to stay and have a warm meal before going home alone. Especially considering the news about the killer on the loose. You’re on your third movie when the two of you finally finish your late dinner and you fall asleep on the couch against Oliver’s much warmer body.

The body underneath you shifts and your eyes snap open.

“Sorry, Oliver, didn’t mean to fall asleep on you,” You apologize before you’re completely awake.

“It is nothing of note,” Someone else’s voice responds instead.

You rub your eyes and take a closer look at him and are surprisingly greeted by your mystery man. He wears the same clothes as the last time you met, only this time it’s warranted as you feel the chilling wind brush against your prickling skin. Unconsciously you crawl closer to him again and he wraps a protective arm around your body.

Looking around at your surroundings you notice that the two of you were huddled amongst the clouds. Stars and nebulas dance around the two of you in sparkling wonder. When you reach out your hand to touch a star and find it surprising when you are greeted with a cold feeling. Your hand snaps back quickly and you tuck it under your arms to quickly warm up.

“Guess I’m dreaming again,” You comment nonchalantly and lean back. The clouds seem to know where to stop and you’re lying comfortably by the man’s side again.

“Ever the perceptive one,” He responds back.

“I didn’t know I could dream of something this… spectacular,” You think to yourself, taking the risk to rest your head on his shoulders. Besides momentarily stiffening under your touch, he doesn’t move away, something you took as a good sign.

“You did not, I did,” He says slowly.

“Hmm, it’s nice, thank you.” You close your eyes and enjoy his warmth.

Besides you, the Endless smiles to himself at your compliment. To him, it was nothing more than the wave of his hand to gift you this dream. He would be lying to himself if he were to say he hasn’t been waiting for you to cross over to the Dreaming since your last dream. His fascination for your abilities grows stronger yet.

Yet, he has created a beautiful enough dream that you didn’t find the need to change anything, something he takes pride in. Your waking world has left you tired and weary, and he is here to provide. A tugging sensation pulls at him and he remembers why he is here.

“My Dreamweaver, I have something to tell you. You must listen carefully.” His words were calculated when he spoke. “You are in danger, be cautious.”

“What?”

“This dream is over.”

You wake up in your bed with a dry mouth and a pounding headache. When you roll over to look at the glowing digital clock, it reads 3:00 AM. With a groan, you leave your warm bed to tread the treacherous cold apartment for a glass of water.

You fill up a small cup with some water and notice that by your sink is a small note, scribbled in red crayon. Your tired eyebrows shoot up at the note and grimace at the atrocious handwriting that was undoubtedly Oliver’s.

“Poppet, I can’t find your pens but I found this crayon by the TV remotes Don’t worry I called a cab I won’t get murdered tonight cause I’m vigilant unlike some people Mwah, Oliver”

That night, your mystery man didn’t visit you again. He only leaves his vague message that echoes in the empty chambers of your heads. You’re plagued with dreams of drowning and despite all you can do to take control of the nightmare, there is nothing you can do but subject yourself to the violent, crashing waves. To constantly inhale gallons of gallons of salty water, to feel your muscles tired out, to feel yourself lose control.

Your only salvation throughout the week was seeing Oliver again at the art exhibit. The murders haven’t stopped and it’s gotten enough traction for everyone in the office to talk about it, too. Yet, you could turn to your dreams instead to find relief.

The man clad in black follows you still into your dreams, any mention of his message is quickly shut down or ignored completely. At the end of the day, you don’t mind, his company is more than enough to make your dreams sweet. He accompanies you through wildflower fields and stardust skies, he brushes your hair by the seashore and tells you the myths of old. Each day is a new dream and brings forth a reason to keep going.

“A few nights ago,” He starts as he watches you gently touch the petals of a flower made of snow and glass. You turn to him expectantly and urge him to continue silently. “You did not call for me when you were having that nightmare.”

It takes a few moments for you to realize he was talking about your drowning nightmare. The one you so “wonderfully” had after an amazing time in the swirling cosmos. You begin to walk again, your shoes making no noise against the cold snow. The man follows beside you, face tilted towards yours in anticipation. His question had been burning at the back of his mind since it happened and he held on, barely, for the answer.

“You can’t really scream when you’re drowning.” Your lousy excuse comes out and even you flinch at the words.

You don’t dare to look at him, knowing the disappointed look he was surely giving you. Everyone knows that anything is possible when you dream, even more when you can lucid dream. After a very pregnant pause you give you real reason.

“I don’t know your name, how would I call out for you, my sweet mystery man.”

It’s now that he stops walking and after a few steps, you too pause and turn to look at him. In the cold mountains of your dream, the snow is stark in contrast to his ebony form. It is here that you recognize how different he was, like the snow pulls away from any distractions and you look at him, really look at him. The facade of just a man falls away, and within, you see a being beyond your comprehension, held together by sheer will. You were right, he was more than mortal, more than a god, something more in every sense.

“I am Dream of the Endless,” He says, voice slow, calculated and raspy as he closes the gap between the two of you. “I am the very dream you are in, the voice inside your head, the person you think you’ve met before while walking the street.”

You’re very aware of how close he was to you now, to see the precipitation of his breath, and the way his eyes are never truly one color. His form keeps the winter chill away from your body, warming the very spot you stood in where snow turns into sunlight and the ground beneath you turns to soft valley grass and wildflowers made of toffee candy and sour rope candy.

“Would you really have come if I called for you?” You ask timidly, head turned down and away from his gaze.

“Yes.”

“Okay.” You say with a smile, cheeks crinkling your eyes as you look at him again. All Dream could think about was making a sun that shines as brightly as you.

Your dreams seem to start leaping out into your waking life as the words of the Endless follow you. Every now and then you would notice a flurry of black and alabaster skin in the peripheral of your vision, but when you go to look it’s nothing but a chair, or a stack of books. His familiar face haunts you when you space out on the bus ride home, or when you’re simply walking down the street and someone bumps into you that just barely looks like him.

Each time you shake your head no, it was impossible, he was only a dream.

The night before the exhibit, Oliver gives you a text message that explains that he would need to be picked up from another location. A client had called him for an at-home euthanasia early in the morning right before the exhibit. You agreed and were sent an address. You brush your teeth and wash your face before turning into bed, sleep coming easily.

Your dream starts, as always, with you counting your fingers. Then you look at your watch, and then you count your fingers again. Your clock had 5 hands instead of two and with control over the dream, you find yourself standing in an Asian inspired pergola surrounded by water for miles around. The only sounds that accompany you are the sound of the sloshing water and the wind’s percussion between the mountain cracks.

You sit on the wooden flooring, cooled by the water, and inhale the scent of fresh water. You bring your fingers together, just like always, and watch as the golden strings move with your movement, producing a pouch of fish food. Large koi fish swim beneath you and you run a finger across the water’s surface and watch with a small smile as they chase your fingers as you sprinkle some of the golden kibble along the water's surface. A koi leaps up and bites your finger and the sharp pain flings your arm away from the water.

“Ow, what the hell?” You frown and look at your finger, the pouch dispersing into gold dust. Pressing into the digit allows blood to leak from the wound. You don’t have time to think about it when your alarm blares at you and you wake.

Your day starts in a rush, slamming your hand over the off button of the alarm clock. You skiddy your way into your bathroom, brushing your teeth, combing your hair and doing your makeup. Your outfit was ready on the door of your bedroom. The casual formal wear was perfect for the day ahead. Comfortable but respectable and easily spotted if someone were to come looking for you.

You look at your watch before briskly walking out the door, a few minutes ahead of schedule and traffic. When you arrive at the house Oliver had told you to, you stand outside the door as you hear murmuring from inside the door. You remember why Oliver was here in the first place and slowly lean against the wall to wait for him.

“He was the most perfect dog, he was loved, he was cared for. And it gives me great honor that you allow me to ease his suffering so he may continue to run in the never ending fields of the afterlife.” Oliver’s voice carries through the thin wall.

Sobbing follows after and hushes of comfort as the dog passes in the arms of the owner. Uncomfortable that you were involuntarily eavesdropping in such a private conversation you start to play with your hands, picking at the nails and the cuticles around them. It’s now that you see, with a quickening heartbeat, a closed over wound on your finger. When you run your thumb over it, the pain long since subdued, you are reminded of a feisty koi bite from a certain dream.

Was it real then? The dream, or merely the pain?

“Ah, Poppet, you’re here already,” Oliver’s whisper pulls you out of your thoughts slowly. “Is your finger hurt?” He notices and reaches for your hand.

“No,” You say quickly, perhaps too quickly, and move your hands away. “It’s just a scratch. Shall we go?” You turn before you give him a chance to answer.

The exhibit, while productive, was blanketed over by a feeling of grief and melancholy. Your artist was soaking in the praises of success, but you find yourself sticking by Oliver’s side, drinking mimosas hoping the little alcohol could erase the uneasiness in your throat. Your finger gives phantom pains now and then, reminding you of the breaking cracks between dreams and real life.

It’s only noon and you’re exhausted, giving the keys to Oliver to drive you back to your place. As if to taunt you even more, the elevator was down for repairs and so arm in arm, you and Oliver make your way up the seven sets of stairs until you reach your own apartment.

“Oh my God, I can taste blood,” You whine, leaning all of your weight onto Oliver by the fifth floor. He, on the other hand, could not have looked more pristine.

“When was the last time you exercised?” He chuckles as he lets you rest for a moment.

You groan as your hand grasps onto the worn metal railing. “I briskly walked to my car this morning,” Your voice is gravelly and hoarse as you use your arm to continue upwards. “After the elevator ride down to the main floor.”

“Good grief, woman,” He jests. “We need to get you to the gym.”

“Over my dead body,” You huff as you make your way again, steps heavy and stomping, the sound echoing in the empty chamber.

The barren of your door gave you the last bit of energy to finish. The sight of your couch was enough for you to flop onto it and simply wish to perish. You’re breathing heavily out of your mouth, face to the ceiling and bounce when Oliver sits down next to you with exaggeration.

“Don’t be dramatic,” Oliver teases, barely winded by the seven flights of stairs. You on the other hand felt like you had just come from a week at sea with nothing but a row boat and canned crackers.

“I’m going to go shower, do you want to stay for lunch?” You ask, already halfway to your room after you caught your breath.

“No, I’ve got my own thing to do, packing mostly.” You hear Oliver’s voice from the bathroom. You turn on the water to let it warm up and peek out of your bedroom. “Alright, I’ll see you off in a few days, yeah?”

Oliver’s outside your door and the sudden proximity makes you jump in your skin.

“Geez, you scared me. I thought you were still in the kitchen,” You say behind a small laugh.

“I’m going to head out, alright? But yeah, let’s meet one more time before I leave later this week.” Oliver smiles and pokes your forehead.

“Sounds good,” You agree, staring at the finger.

“Stay safe out there, Poppet.” He waves and goes for the door. “I’ve got a cab waiting for me downstairs.”

You use the shower to cleanse yourself of not only the physical properties of today, and more importantly the sweat you accumulated walking up the steps, but also the more emotional toil. The warm water seemingly soaking up all of your depressive thoughts. It runs down the water and out the drain, and you feel lighter when you step out.

You’re drying your hair with your towel when you see the brown square that is Oliver’s wallet sitting on your couch - opening it and seeing his ID card clarifies it. You groan as you know that he can’t get anywhere without his wallet, especially if he wants to leave.

An internal debate was settled with going to his place before you pick something up for dinner. You place the wallet by your keys near the front door and make yourself some lunch, and put some much needed laundry into the washer while it cooks. You watch a small episode while you eat before returning to your work laptop and answering emails.

The day goes by quickly and the rumbling of your stomach tells you that it’s time for dinner and more importantly, returning Oliver’s wallet. You redress in the same clothes you wore earlier that day, deciding to just deal with the high heels as any other shoe wouldn’t tie in well with your outfit, and you were not going to go out looking anything less than put together.

How lucky you were when you walked down the hall to find the elevator back in operation. Down, down you went, seven flights of stairs to the parking garage. The echoing beep of your car tells you where Oliver had parked for you and you climb in.

Traffic was a pain in the ass and you couldn't take another slow minute during dinner rush. Beeps and honks accompany you all the way to Oliver’s home and it takes a solid 45 minutes to travel 10 miles. You knock on Oliver’s door and you don’t know why but you’re nervous. There wasn’t an answer and you knocked again. Nothing. The door is unlocked and with a shrug to yourself you enter.

All of the lights were turned off when you entered, fumbling about to turn on the lobby light near the door. The rented home was much bigger than your medium apartment and you seriously start to regret your career choice.

“Oliver?” You call out, taking off your shoes and putting them aside.

No answer.

“Ollieeee…” You sing out as you make your way further into the house. You drop the wallet on the dining room table and still nothing. You knew he was here, somewhere, the rental car he had was still in the driveway when you pulled up.

You bring out your phone, about to call him, when a small noise directs you to a staircase that leads downstairs and you make your way into the finished basement. When you open the door, something you never thought you would see greets you instead. Yes, Oliver was there but so was another woman. She’s tied down to a wooden table and you think you’re interrupting something if it wasn’t for the way her teary eyes snap towards you. Despair is washed out with a small glint of hope as her trembling hand reaches for you.

“Help me,” She pleads.

Oliver calls your name, almost breathlessly, and walks closer to you. In his hand holds a small knife, blood already smeared on the glinting metal. He greets you with a smile, but your attention is on the woman on the table.

“Please.” She sobs again.

You’re numb, on the brink of hyperventilation, and you’re sure that if you had gotten dinner before coming here you would’ve thrown up all over the vinyl flooring.

“Oliver,” You gulp down as you take a step back.

He advances with another step, knife still in hand as the blood drips down onto the floor. He approaches you like a predator to scared prey, and he wouldn’t be wrong. His weaponless hand wraps around your wrist, warm and alive just like all of the other times he has done since you became friends all those years ago.

“Come here.” He guides you closer. “This is our guest, Poppet.” He introduces.

The woman squirms against her restraints and cusses. “Stop calling me Poppet, my name is fucking Alora, let me go!”

Oliver guides you closer and then slinks behind you, using his body to trap you from the exit. From this distance you can see the cuts and bruises Alora endured and you lean away in denial. Bile crawls up from the bottom of your throat begging to be released, it’s acidity painful to swallow. Alora’s tear stains seem permanent as another one follows its path as she watches the two of you lean over her.

“Let.. let her go,” You say with a shaky breath. It’s the opposite of assertive, the opposite of a demand.

Oliver sighs behind you and slams the blade down on the table and both you and Alora flinch at the sudden noise. He laughs behind you, the breath tickling the nape of your neck.

“I thought we could… share her,” He responds. You feel his lips on the junction of your neck and your body trembles again.

“Share… her,” You echo.

This wasn’t real, there was no way this was real. No, you were definitely dreaming, Oliver took you home and then after your shower you fell asleep. He never left his wallet at your place. Oliver heals, he would never…

You look down at your fingers, they’re shaking but still countable. One, two, three, four, five. You look at your watch, and with dread you notice that everything is in its place. One, two, three, four, five. It’s still the right time. One, two, three, four, five.

“A dream, this has to be a dream. A nightmare.” You lie to yourself. Your thumb presses into each of your fingers and to your dismay, there are still five.

You look down at Alora again, her eyes wide and begging and her fingers go to grab at you.

“Ah, ah, none of that.” Oliver notices and pushes her fingers away from the two of you.

His attention turns back to you again. “What do you think of it?” He asks, his hands resting on your hips and to your further disgust inhales your scent.

“What do I think of it?” You echo again except this time it was more harsh, judgemental as it should be.

Oliver scoffs and leaves your side. He walks to the other side of the table, knife back in hand as he points it to Alora’s face.

“Look at Poppet here, notice anything?”

That’s when you look at her, really look at her. At first you didn’t see it, or maybe your mind was simply trying to prevent you from seeing it, but under Oliver’s scrutinizing gaze you notice with teary eyes. Her hair was the same color as yours, so were her eyes, they even mimicked the way yours were shaped. Her lips curled just like yours as they’re upturned in agony.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” You gag, your hand flies to cover your mouth as you dry heave.

“No, don’t be, my sweet Poppet,” Oliver comes to you again and holds your face steady. His eyes have always been like they are now, caring, soft, non-dangerous, but seeing his actions made you doubt everything. “Here, you can watch for the first time instead, how about that?”

“Wh-what?” You gape and he pulls away from you. He places the knife over Alora’s throat and her sobbing and pleas grow louder.

“NO!” You scream and go to reach for the knife, unsure where the sudden bravery comes from. But, it’s too late, he slices, you feel the way his muscle moves under your palm, how it grips the blade, how it ticks when it kills.

The blood sprays and decorates you in its red and sticky liquid and you’re left stunned. Beneath you, you hear as Alora chokes on her own blood as her body trashes as a last ditch effort of escape. Oliver looks at you with a smile, his white shirt decorated just like yours. He looks at you with adoration and something like pride as he places the knife down and comes to you again.

“You look even more beautiful in red, Poppet,” He compliments, but it falls on deaf ears. His lips press to yours in a one sided kiss and you weakly push back. “Let me clean everything up and then I’ll take care of you, okay?”

You stand still as you watch him, rag in hand as he begins to clean.

“You were the most perfect person, you were loved, you were cared for. And it gives me great honor that you allow me to ease your suffering so you may continue to live free in the never ending fields of the afterlife.” Oliver’s familiar eulogy snaps you out of your shock, if not for a brief moment.

It’s enough for you to run out the door, adrenaline blazes down your spine and pumps to all of your limbs. The door almost flies off its hinges as you open it into the dark night. You don’t know where you’re going to go, but anywhere is better than here.

“Poppet! Wait!” Oliver screams behind you and he’s fast to catch you.

Your bare feet scrap across the concrete sidewalk as your vision blurs with salty tears. You trip into an alleyway and sob, your pristine clothes now covered in dirt and blood, and you hear the crack of your watch as it breaks under the fall. At the edges of your mind, a small girl with wild and colorful hair peeks at you in fishnets, the world warps, distorting the difference between reality and delirium.

A moment of clarity comes to you as you remember something. It tries to fall between the crevices of your mind but you grab onto it and hold it close.

“Would you really have come if I called for you?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“Dream,” You cry out into the darkness. Oliver finds you on the ground and his arms pick you up. “No, no, let go of me!”

The man clad in black doesn’t show his face and you beat yourself over it, because of course he doesn’t. It was just a dream. This is reality. Despite it all, you try one more time. A name falls on your tongue, one you didn’t previously know.

“Morpheus!” You scream and the calling echoes in the suburban neighborhood.

Oliver pays you no mind and hoists you onto his shoulders. You’re pounding at his back but his muscles never falter. He walks back with heaving breaths to his house when he is suddenly stopped and drops you. You unceremoniously roll and then sit quickly to run away again. You’re stopped short at the sight.

In front of Oliver stands a man, his form fuzzy at the sides and blends in to the night around them. He wears a helm made of bones, accompanied by a bright ruby necklace, and a leather pouch of sand.

“Dream?” You question and his gaze turns to you. You can’t see his eyes past the large bug-like design of the helm, but you know he sees you.

“Who the hell are you?” Oliver sneers at him.

Dream doesn’t reply and instead he shrinks back into the shadows and wisps around until he stands in front of you. You hide behind his back as he protects you from Oliver.

“Hey, get away from my Poppet.” Oliver takes a step forward but is stopped by Dream’s words.

“Be quiet,” He commands. It’s two words, but it renders him speechless. “I turn you into prey. Your judgment upon you is to be hunted. Even after you wish for death, you will form into another and be hunted again. This is my gift to you, Oliver Barlowe, make good use of it.”

The curse is etched in stone as he speaks. He pours from his leather pouch and sand falls between his fingers. He curls then unfurls them before blowing the particles into Oliver’s face. You watch with horror as his form shrinks under the swirling sand and he turns into a shrew. He runs into the grass, his brown fur lost amongst the foliage.

“Hello, my Dreamweaver,” He whispers and crouches to your height on the cold concrete. He extends a patient hand and you grab hold. “Come, nightmares shall hunt you no further.”

“You came,” You say, still in disbelief as he helps you stand.

“I kept my promise. I do not break such vows, ever.” His fingers gently wipe away the tears from your face.

"You're real," You whisper, still not believing that he stands before you.

His fingers trace across your bottom lip as he comes closer to you still. Dream doesn't say anything, he simply soaks in your presence, drawn to you in a way neither of you could comprehend. His fingers still trace your face, running over your nose and the apple of your cheekbones.

You feel the swirling of sand around your feet and the world changes around you. You’re in the meadows again, surrounded by flowers made of snow and glass, and you see the cabin your grandfather built. Dream sits you down on a white and red checkered picnic blanket with two glasses of lemonade.

“Will you stay?” You ask as you grab the cool glass cup of lemonade. Your gaze turns to the sweet yellow drink and you rub the smooth glass as a way of calming yourself.

“Yes.”

“Okay.” You smile.

Alsooooo, very inappropriate use of being a veterinarian, we don't kill people and we don't make that much money, sigh

My Sandman comics came and they're so heavy... Second also, Comic Dream is such a mood

Maybe a more lighthearted fic for next time, hmm?

♡ Yours, Layla

#the sandman #dream of the endless #morpheus #morpheus x reader #dream x reader #the sandman fanfic #dream of the endless x reader #the sandman x reader #sandman x reader

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auras-moonstone · 1 year

Text

august — ethan landry (part two)

word count: 1,674

pairing: hockey player!ethan landry x fem!reader

summary: after a couple of days filled with avoidance and sadness, y/n and ethan finally talk.

author’s note: there was obviously no other way of ending august season than with part two. i loved writing these august stories, and i hope i didn’t disappoint with this second part <3

part one part two

DAYS HAD GONE BY SINCE THE TALK AT THE PARKING LOT, SINCE Y/N ACCIDENTALLY TOLD ETHAN SHE LOVED HIM AND SINCE DREW FOUND ETHAN CRYING IN THE HALLWAY. The boy had been completely honest with Drew, telling him all about their summer. At first he was really pissed at Ethan, but then realized that, even though the boy had messed up badly, his intentions were good. He didn’t want to humiliate Betty in front of the school, but he could’ve handled things a bit better.

The day after the fight, Ethan broke up with Betty, and the news flashed around the school in the blink of an eye. Y/N had heard the rumours from Inez, but since most times you couldn’t believe a word she says—she was the gossip of the school and her data was almost always wrong—, she tried to ignore it.

“I think this time it is true” Willow said, talking about the break up rumour.

Y/N shrugged “I don’t know. Mr. Golden Boy doesn’t want to cause any unnecessary drama near the match” she said bitterly.

“I can’t believe he said that” her blonde friend shook her head in disbelief. “I honestly thought you’d be together by the end of the day.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s hard to resist those puppy brown ey- holy shit you look like you’re going to kill me” Willow laughed. “I’m just stating a fact, Y/N/N. I don’t have a crush on him or anything.”

“I was just too hurt to be deceived by his gorgeous, irresistible brown eyes” Y/N said.

“Even when you’re mad at him you’re simping” Willow laughed in amazement.

Y/N groaned “I’m hopeless. Everytime I compliment him, you have to pinch me in the arm.”

“Deal”

Y/N LAID ON HER BED STARING AT THE CEILING WISHING TIME WOULD SLOW DOWN. It was the day of the match, she had her brother’s jersey on—which made her sad because it reminded her of when she wore Ethan’s—and was waiting for his brother to be ready to go to the venue.

She wanted time to freeze, she wanted to avoid that hockey game. Obviously, the reason why she was dreading to go was Ethan. She hadn’t seen his stunning face since the parking lot disaster, she had been playing hide-and-seek with him, doing everything not to cross paths with him. Not that Ethan had tried talking to her—which made her both relieved and angry.

“This is too close” Y/N sighed, as they sat on the bench, very near the ice rink.

“Relax, he will be wearing a helmet. You’re safe from his charm” Willow tried calmed her down.

“His charm is also his ridiculous tall frame” Y/N replied.

“God” Willow groaned in frustration. “You two need to talk cause you’re driving me crazy.”

Y/N looked at her guiltily “I’m sorry, Willow. I’m the worst.”

“Fuck, no no. Now I feel bad, I was kidding, Y/N/N” she hugged her. “But seriously, are you ever going to talk about it properly?”

“I don’t know” Y/N looked down at her lap. “He hasn’t tried to… maybe he’s done with me.”

“I doubt that.” Willow said confidently.

“Do you think I should be the one who makes the first step?” Y/N asked.

The blond girl shook her head “No, he’s the one who should be apologizing.”

“Right” she said, shifting on her seat.

Willow eyed the action carefully. “You’re actually thinking about making the first step.” she accused her.

“It has crossed my mind several times, but I’m not going to do it” she assured her. “I really miss him, tho.”

“I know” Willow took her hand in comfort.

The players entered the rink, and Drew instantly searched for his sister, waving at her. She waved back just as enthusiastically as him.

“Golden boy alert” Willow whispered from beside her.

Right behind Drew stood Ethan. Y/N couldn’t see his face, as it was covered by the helmet, but his broad shoulders and large frame were recognisable. For a moment, she forgot what had happened between them, and she almost smiled. It was like a reflect, because that’s what she used to do every time he looked at her from the rink.

Ethan would be lying if he said he had forgotten how pretty Y/N looked on that hockey jersey, because the image of her in it lingered on his mind. Everything about her was tattooed on his mind. He wanted to skate towards her and hug her until his arms grew restless, and he probably would’ve, if the whistle hadn’t blown.

When Ethan scored the first goal, Y/N’s chest bursted with proudness and happiness and celebrated loudly with the rest of the spectators. And then, Ethan broke the group hug to look towards the seats—towards her. He raised his hockey stick to point it at her, and Y/N stood frozen on her place as she felt countless pairs of eyes glued to her frame.

“Did he just-“ Y/N whispered, to no one in particular.

“Holy shit, Y/N/N” Willow said, almost as shocked as her. “He dedicated you his fucking goal. In front of the whole university. And you thought he was done with you.”

She couldn’t help but smile widely. Was she weak? Maybe. But she just missed him too much to be mad anymore.

THE CELEBRATION PARTY WAS APPARENTLY HOSTED BY DREW, SO Y/N ARRIVED HOME AND SOON IT WAS FILLED WITH DRUNK PEOPLE AND LOUD MUSIC. She locked her room and decided to stay in her porch listening to her own music. People that passed by looked at her weirdly. Everyone was partying in their nice outfits and she was sitting outside alone, in her pjs and cardigan.

Ethan saw her as he got closer to her house, and his chest compressed. It was like he couldn’t breathe. He just showed up to the party to talk to her. The speech had been rehearsed in front of the mirror ever since he got home the day of their fallout. He had dreamed about this countless of times, and he had seen every possible outcome. Hopefully, the night would end with both of them kissing on the porch.

Y/N raised her head at the sound of the wood creaking, and there he was—standing in her front porch light, with his sequin smile, Levi’s and a hoodie.

“Hi” she said softly. Her voice felt like a caress to his ears.

“You’re here alone” Ethan said confused, leaning against the wooden railing, right in front of her.

“I hate the crowds, you know that.” Y/N said simply. “You’re not dressed for a party.”

“I didn’t come here for the party” Ethan confessed. Y/N looked at him expectantly. “I know that what I did to you was the worst, but I swear I didn’t mean to hurt you. I… I don’t have feelings for Betty, but I didn’t want her to be humiliated in the hallways, so I thought I should wait until the end of classes. And then she pulled my arm around her, and you saw it and-shit I messed up so badly, Y/N. I’m not proud of how I handled things. I don’t know if you’ll forgive me, but I don’t want you to doubt that I love you. Because I do, so fucking much. The only thing I want to do is make it up to you, so tell me what you need—time, not to talk to you ever again, punch me. Whatever. But I really am sorry and I miss you.”

There. He finally explained things, and now it was up to her. Would she have him? Would she still want him? Or would she tell him to go fuck himself?

“I’m not going to say I overreacted, because I didn’t. That day felt like a punch in the face, but I understand what you did. We both handled things horribly, we were so consumed by us that we should’ve realized it was something that needed to be addressed before classes started.” Y/N said, and then smiled so beautifully that Ethan wanted to cry. He didn’t want to stop having the privilege of seeing it. He needed her back. “You’re a good person, way better than me, because I didn’t even think about what it would be like for Betty.”

“Well, she has always been mean to you…” Ethan spoke.

“Yeah, but still. It was bitchy of me, and sweet of you. I’m sorry, I should’ve let you explain way earlier but…”

Ethan shook his head. “You were hurt, I get that. I understand, and you shouldn’t apologise for that.”

Y/N stood up, cardigan sliding from one of her shoulders, and slowly made her way to him. “Hi”

Ethan chuckled and the corners of her lips turned upwards. She had missed making him laugh, but above all she missed the way his eyes shone when he laughed. “Hi… hey, what happened to your arm?” he asked, dragging the fabric of the cardigan even lower to inspect her bruises.

“Oh… that was Willow” Y/N said, and the boy widened his eyes.

“Willow hit you?!”

“No, she just pinched me a lot… because I asked her to” she explained, but Ethan looked even more confused. “Never mind, just don’t worry about it.”

“Your kinks turned weird” Ethan laughed when she bumped her shoulder with his. Then, he patted the wooden rail next to him. “Sit here.”

“What are we doing?” she asked when he took a step closer, stepping between her legs. Ethan just lowered his head to press kisses on her bruises.

“There, I kissed it better” Ethan smiled. Y/N couldn’t believe how a human being could be so adorable.

She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested the side of her face on his chest. “I missed you. I love you”

“Missed you too, and love you even more” he put his forehead on her shoulder, embracing the confort that the girl’s touch gave him. A few minutes passed, and Y/N called his name to make him look up. “Yeah?”

“I want to kiss you” Y/N whispered.

“Do it. I’m certainly not opposed.”

Their lips met with eagerness after days of pining and longing, and they didn’t stop moving until a group of drunk players stepped on the porch.

“Want to go my car?” Y/N asked, and Ethan nodded immediately.

The back of her car was a bit small for both of them, but they didn’t care. Being with each other was all they needed.

tags: @yookayyo @kn1n3 @midnightmystic @1horrormoviewhore1 @bugballer @hwalllllllelujah <3

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myunghology · 3 months

Text

࿐ knights members and taylor swift songs i think describes them! + lyrics <3

— ✦ knights x gn! reader (seperate!) , pure fluff, tw — reader is implied to be in a abusive relationship in arashis part

— ✦ TSUKASA SUOU + the way i loved you

“he is sensible and so incredible, and all my single friends are jealous.” — people have seen the way tsukasa treats you, like the absolute prince/ss you are, he always gives you amazing treatment and he would drop everything just to help you any time.

“he says everything i need to hear, and it's not like i could ask for anything better.” — would gladly give you reassurance anytime you need it, when you're over thinking, when you're jealous, or even if it's something personal, he'll always be there for you. (more under the cut <3)

“but i miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain, and it's 2am and im cursing your name.” — you two have probably fought many times; not about anything financial or something with his idol work, but probably about your mental health- tsukasa screaming that you should take proper care of yourself more especially when he isn't there, but he knows it isn't your fault.

“he respects my space and never makes me wait, and he calls exactly when he says he will.” — respects your personal space even though he badly wants to know something, your comfort is more important than his curiosity, no? and he truly calls whenever he says he will, at the exact time. he always keeps his promises, yk?

“he's close with my mother and talks business with my father.” — your mom definitely loves him, he's probably like the son she wishes your brother was or the son she never had, he's such a suck up to both of your parents oh my god. and of course he talks business with your father, he's the heir of his family, isn't he? your father loves him too.

“he's charming and endearing and im comfortable.” — is anyone even surprised.. he's a part of a wealthy family and he's a gentleman, of course he's charming. but especially to you- especially when he was courting you. plus, you feel oh so comfortable whenever you're with him, he's like your safe space if it was a person.

this song screams tsukasa suou so bad it's crazy.

— ✦ LEO TSUKINAGA + i think he knows + king of my heart

“he got that boyish look that i like in a man! i am an architect, im drawing all the plans. its like im 17, nobody understands.” — we all know his features are incredibly handsome, his sharp and green eyes, his long orange hair that's always tied. it's a stupid crush- i mean out of all people, why him? you silently scold yourself.

“he got my heartbeat, skipping down 16th avenue, got that ah, i mean. wanna see what's under that attitude, like..” — you're embarrassed the way his stupid self got you falling horrendously. the way your heart skips a beat whenever he says 'i love you' but then he probably says that to everyone he meets.. and of course you want to see what's under that silly little attitude of his. you wanna see his caring side, which he has shown to you multiple times, but you definitely wanna see it more!

“he's so obsessed with me and boy i understand!” — when leo has a crush, he'd definitely be obsessed with them. bugging and annoying them 24/7, shouting out that he has inspiration whenever you walk into the same room that he's in to the point where you have to stop him from writing all over the walls and the floor; screw it, maybe even the ceiling.

“lyrical smile, indigo eyes, hand on my thigh.” — most charming eyes, the way his eyes also smile the same time he does. tho he does not obviously have indigo eyes, but he has the prettiest eyes either way. as for the smile, he's always smiling, no? + he's always touching you somehow, hugging you and giving you headpats.

“and you move to me like im a motown beat and we rule the kingdom inside my room.” — we all know leo likes to complete, i know this isn't technically what the lyric means but he looooves dancing with you! especially inside the little fortress inside your room you two made, that's made out of pillows <3

“never quite took me where you do?” — leo is very random at times, a lot of people know that. but to the point that he drags you to a place where he found "pretty"? once you're there with him, ideas for composing fills his mind while he looks at you with awe, the beautiful sunrise and you, just sitting there. leo likes pretty things.. and people ♪

“and all at once you are the one i have been waiting for, king of my heart.” — ou-sama~~ we all know he was the previous king of knights, but he forever stays your king in your heart, even after suou takes his place ^3^.

couldn't decide between i think he knows and king of my heart so i went with both since i think he knows was too short by itself.

— ✦ IZUMI SENA + style

“i should just tell to to leave cause i, know exactly where it leads but i, watch us go round and round each time.” — you two definitely bicker every time you see each other. arguing on what the hell the others wearing today saying it's 'not appropriate' for the occasion. literally everyone else knows that you two admire each other from afar, except yourselves.

“you got that james dean daydream look in your eye, and i got that red lip classic thing that you like.” — everyone knows izumi sena is gorgeous, the same goes for you. it's just that-- he won't admit it. buttt it's probably pretty obvious to the people he's close with tho. (e.g : knights)

“and when we come crashing down, we come back everytime.” — every. single. time. you two fight, literally the next day you two act like nothing ever happened with izumi asking you if you ate yet, and with you answering without saying anything mean.

“i say, ‘i heard, oh, that you've been out and about with some other girl.’ he says ‘what you heard was true but i, can't stop thinking bout you and i.’ i said ‘ive been there, too a few times.’” — obviously as a model and having to work with other people, there would be dating rumors. it was only natural. but you really can't help but to get jealous. although being izumi— he'll harshly (and affectionately) tell you that he's seeing you and nobody else.

“you got that long hair, slicked back, white t-shirt.” — but instead of slicked back his hair is definitely messy. but either way, he's still handsome! with a plain white t-shirt he wears at home, perfect for watching romcom dramas with you, and snuggling with your pet cat or dog!!!

THERE WASN'T THAT MANY OPTIONS FOR IZUMI ARGHHH 🏴‍☠️

— ✦ ARASHI NARUKAMI + gorgeous

“and i got a boyfriend, he's older than us. he's in the club doing i don't know what. you're so cool it makes me hate you so much.” — HONESTLY you could give less of a shit about your shitty boyfriend once you meet arashi, it's given she's a literal angel, saying that you should just break up with him because he treats you like crap.

“whiskey on ice, sunset and vine, you've ruined my life, by not being mine.” — it pains you and her that you're still with your 🤢boyfriend🤢. you want to be with her so bad, you just don't know how to break up with your current boyfriend.

“you're so gorgeous, i can't say anything to your face. cause look at your face.” — you stutter around her whenever she's with you, and she finds it absolutely adorable, definitely teases you about it!

“and im so furious, at you for making me feel this way, but what can i say? you're gorgeous.” — you're not that mad, but you're just frustrated at yourself for liking her when you have a boyfriend.. but your boyfriends an asshole anyway.. right? it's not your fault.

“and you should think about the consequence, of you touching my hand in the darkened room.” — whenever she touches you, you get extremely flustered, blushing sooo hard your face is practically all red.

“if you've got a girlfriend, im jealous of her. but if you're single, that's honestly worse.” — she has so many people pining over her, which obviously makes you jealous. but she just laughs it off and reassures you, that she doesn't like anyone at the moment. or does she?

“i guess ill just stumble on home to my cats, alone. unless you wanna come along?” — you sulk whenever you see her laughing with other people. once she sees you walking away she follows you around for the rest of the day, giggling at you for feeling jealous.

— ✦ RITSU SAKUMA + paper rings

“went home and tried to stalk you on the internet, now ive read all of the books beside your bed!” — headcanon ritsu reads lots of books— which leads you staying at his place a lot to read, and also to see him.. also, the first time you've met him you most probably stalked him on the internet because you found him neat. (UNDERSTATEMENT)

“cat and mouse for a month or two or three, now i wake up in the night and watch you breathe..” — playing a game of cat and mouse with ritsu is always fun! especially if he's the one chasing you everywhere for your love <3. but now, you randomly wake up in the middle of the night beside him with nothing to do but watch him sleep peacefully.

“kiss me once 'cause you know i had a long night! kiss me twice 'cause it's gonna be alright! three times 'cause ive waited my whole life!” — you nor ritsu can't tell how long you two have been waiting for this moment. once you or he places a soft kiss on your lips; he feels like he's in bliss and he can pass out any second now as his vision turns hazy and his eyes are half-lidded whilst a smile is on his face.

“i like shiny things, but id marry you with paper rings!” — ritsu is SO desperate for you it's so funny. he kisses you the first time he gets to— so why not propose with paper rings as well? made by he, himself of course ^^ also he would gladly get on his knees for you no objections

“i want your dreary mondays, wrap your arms around me, baby boy!” — his sleepy mondays with you are always a blessing to him, in rare occasions in which he wakes up first, he always fixes his position in cuddling you as he plants a small kiss on your forehead (screw that, more like all around your face.) whilst runs his fingers through your hair.

“in paper rings, in picture frames, in all dreams.” — swore to love him all your life with those paper rings you got married with.. technically. and he has little picture frames of you guys in his room too, and don't act like he doesn't dream about you everytime he goes to bed, too!

myunghology : PINK THEME BC THIS WAS AN OLD WORK AND IM TOO LAZY TO CHANGE IT😭😭

#ensemble stars x reader #ensemble stars #enstars x reader #enstars #jian’s works!#leo tsukinaga x reader #tsukinaga leo x reader #leo tsukinaga #tsukasa suou x reader #tsukasa suou #izumi sena x reader #izumi sena #arashi narukami x reader #arashi narukami #sakuma ritsu x reader #ritsu sakuma x reader #ritsu sakuma

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littlexscarletxwitch · 10 months

Note

hii! can i request a florence pugh x reader where the reader and flo are out at a club but have not met before, and then someone tires to make a move on flo that she doesn’t want so the reader protects her? if not that’s okay! :)

── ༊*·˚⋆ 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝘂𝗰𝗸 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂?

paring: florence pugh x fem!reader

tag(s): kinda fluffy, flirty flo and r, protective (more like possessive lol) r, i hate men :)

warning(s): some dude harassing flo, mentions of alcohol, grammatical errors, unedited

word count: 1.2 k

note: So sorry it took me so long to get back to you, nonnie. I really hope you like it, tho I'm not sure if I did you idea justice lol. On the other hand, I fished all of my exams so that means more time to write. Therefore I might update twice a week, or as I keep on finishing up fics. Lots of love, M <3

requests are open! + check my rules + masterlist <3

The loud music, the low colourful lights and the cold drink in your hands felt like heaven but nothing could compare to those lovely soft green eyes.

You had been watching her the entire night, unable to take your eyes off of her. The way she would laugh with her friends scrunching her nose, the way she would swing her hips, the way she would gulped down her drink made you all flustered and bothered. Maybe it was just the alcohol but she was really beautiful to look at, so you didn’t mind at all.

Florence knew you were watching, she could feel your eyes burning holes all over her body. But the thing was that she loved it. She took glances at you as well, when she felt like you were not looking at her. And she was really pleased by the sight: bright smile, kind eyes and lips she would love to taste.

But neither of you dare to make a move, god only knew why the two of you were being so silly. And so the night went on, the two of you stealing glances at each other, Florence from the middle of the crowd and you from your stool at the bar. It was really stupid, but it also felt like a game, a secret code only the two of you knew about.

As she took her glass to her lips, her eyes searched for your frame. But as she gulped down the last of her drink, she realised you were nowhere in sight. She frowned, was it over? Did she miss her chance? She should have acted sooner, now all she had was a bitter taste in her mouth and the need to wash it away with some more alcohol.

“I’m going to get a drink,” she said to Ashley, her friend, showing her the empty glass with a fake pout on her lips.

“Get me something too,” the girl yelled to her friend over the loud music, to which Florence only nodded with a thumb up.

She made her way to the bar, gently pushing people out of their way and smiling at some of them as she watched them dancing and enjoying themselves. She called a bartender and asked her for an ice-cold martini and a beer for Ashley. As the girl prepared her drink and five more at the same time, Florence felt an unknown presence next to her. The thought of you quickly crossed her mind, so she turned but her smile flattered as she didn’t meet your kind sweet eyes, but a pair of cold blue eyes.

She pushed down the uneasy feeling growing in her stomach and put on her best fake smile. Sure, it wasn’t who she was expecting but it wasn’t the strangers fault. He didn’t deserve to be treated badly, he hadn’t done anything wrong.

“Hey,” said the man nodding to her. She cursed herself for getting his attention, he mistook her politeness for flirting.

“Hi,” she went along nevertheless, not wanting to come out as rude.

And that word was all it took for the man in front of her to start talking nonstop.

The bartender had already given her the drinks she had asked for and he still kept on talking. Florence had already drunk her martini and he was still talking. She ordered a second martini, the beer going hot beside her as he told her about his amazing job. She couldn’t take it anymore, but she didn’t want to cause a scene.

You, who had come back from the restroom, had found yourself sitting next to said man. You had heard the same boring talk as Florence, but you didn’t realise it was her until you quickly looked at her. She seemed unease and bored, she was biting her bottom lip and nodding along to whatever he was saying. But her eyes weren’t as shiny as they were before, when she was dancing with her friend, having the time of her life, and smiling at you from time to time.

“Hey, why don’t we go somewhere more private?” the man said, reaching out for Florence’s hand. She slightly backed up.

“No, I think I’m good here,” she said as she gently shook her head.

“Oh, come on,” he insisted. “Let’s have some fun.”

“Thank you, but I’m just fine exactly where I am,” she said harshly, with a tight smile on her lips. She was done being polite.

“Don’t be a buzzkill. Come on, I promise you’ll have a lovely time,” Florence cringed at his words.

“I think I should go,” you noticed the worry with a tint of anger in her tone, and you didn’t like that one bit. Especially when the guy just wouldn't take the hint.

You gulped down the rest of your drink, hoping the alcohol now running through your veins would give you more courage, and hopefully it would help you not think things through or else you feared you would back down.

You quietly stood up without him noticing, turned to him clearing your throat and spoke up through the loud music. “Oh, there you are, honey!” you plastered your best smile on your face. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” you hugged her, whispering in her ear to play along.

“Hi, baby. I missed you” she quickly said as she wrapped her arms around you.

Both of your heartbeats were beating a mile per hour, this was not how either of you would imagine to talk to the other. As Florence placed her head in the crook of your neck, your sweet fresh scent filled her nose, erupting butterflies in her stomach.

“Baby?” the guy scoffed. “Excuse me. Who are you?” he raised his brows at you.

“I’m Y/n, her girlfriend ,” you raised your brows back at him, playing the part. “Who the fuck are you?” you said with a fake smile on your lips as you wrapped your arm around Florence's waist.

“What?” he scoffed again. “This is bullshit,” he shook his head as he walked away from the two of you.

You sighed and rolled your eyes at him. “Men. Am I right?”

“Tell me about it,” Florence smiled at you.

“Oh, sorry,” you said as you realised your arm was still looped around her.

“No worries,” you had just dropped your arm and she was already missing the warmth of your skin. She cleared her throat, pushing away her thoughts. “Thank you for getting me out of that.”

“You’re very welcome,” you couldn't stop the blood rushing to your cheeks as your eyes were fixed on hers. “I, um, I actually wanted to talk to you earlier…”

“You did?” her eyes seemed to light up, but maybe it was just the flashy lights.

“Yeah! But I… I just thought… I…” you were babbling, a sign of how nervous you were.

“I wanted to talk to you too,” she quickly chimed in.

You couldn’t hold back your smile no matter how hard you were trying. “I know you just got out of a messy situation,” she chuckled, and you could have sworn that you felt your heart flutter. “But, um, can I buy you a drink?” you shyly asked her.

“I would love that,” she responded, mirroring your smile.

Florence was so mesmerised by you that she hadn't realised that she had completely forgotten about Ashley’s beer. But, oh well, she was sure her friend would understand. After all, a pretty girl saving your ass from a creepy dude wasn’t an everyday thing, and she wasn’t just going to let you go that easily.

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

-M

#florence pugh #florence pugh x reader #florence pugh x fem reader #florence pugh x y/n #florence pugh x you #florence pugh imagine #your fav florence pugh blog <3 #requests by lovely anons ‘๑’#littlexscarletxwitch's fic

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pixelatedraindrops · 3 months

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Happy 1st Anniversary RainCode!

☔️6🔎30👻

Thank you for bringing me so much joy 💜💕

(and thank you for giving me the gift that is yuma kokohead)

I didn’t think I’d make art for it at first, but I figured this game has done so much for me, so I’ll give back by drawing the duo that started it all 💜🩷 These two are such an iconic pair and I will draw them together as much as possible c: (tho Shinigami will be mostly in her ghost form if I do)

First time drawing human form Shinigami non-chibi, and I admit she was a little tricky with that outfit. But I think I did it decently enough… xD

little bonus for the kokogami enjoyers 💕

miss death god is too much woman for this little boy to handle~ 🤭

i know he's an adult but can you honestly look at him without context and say this is a man??? he's just an eemey meemey little guy.

Personal Rambling below (because I love this game so much)

WARNING MINI ESSAY INCOMING (lmao)

Oh RainCode... Where do I even begin...

RainCode is a game that has changed my life along with likely many other people’s lives. Although the premise of it is fairly straightforward, the characters and atmosphere make this game so much more. The successor to Danganropa is honestly its own unique story and structure, and tbh I think I love and enjoy it far more than Danganronpa. But this game…is just so much more for me.

I truly never expected this game to be such an impact on my life, let alone become my next fixation.

So, for history, I was honestly in no real hurry to get the game on its release date last year, so I got it a day later. On July 1st, I played the game for the first time. And I didn’t think much of it at first. The only thing that was on my mind when I started this game, was that I was positive I was going to be treating the protagonist like Makoto Naegi and Kyoko Kirigiri’s son the whole time.

This was the first post I made about RainCode back on twitter in 2023.

Yeah... Kinda silly when I look at it now... XD But I do still beleive this headcanon.

When I started the game my 2016 fixation of Danganronpa came back a bit. As a previous DR lover, I did make comparisons here and there to all of the characters. Yuma was very much like Naegi with his shy and timid demeanor at first due to having amnesia, and it felt like déjà vu when playing through the start of the game. But then it happened. The moment that solidified Yuma as my next and now permanent target. When he got sick/dizzy on the train... God that moment still lives rent free in my head. (I know the cause of it was different/related to the first mystery/case, but as someone who enjoys any sort of sick whump moment, regardless of if its little crumbs or a whole-ass meal it still counted for me) I was still shy and hid in the shadows with my silly little niche back then, but I told myself. Yep, once I finish this game, I’m writing a sickfic for this game and he’s the victim. (though what surprised me was that I wasn’t alone on that, 3 other people made sickfics with yuma before I did so that was a pleasant surprise xD)

As the game went on it shocked and impressed me in many different forms. I realized that this game isn’t the Danganronpa clone I thought it would be. Sure, it had a lot of similar elements and mirrored mini games like Hangman’s Gambit, Spot Selection, and of course the Conclusion Comic of the whole case, but the story the world and the mysteries were honestly different from the way DR structured them. And it pleased me when not many people from the main team had died. Most of the deaths were of side characters that had appeared in their respective chapters. Which honestly was a breath of fresh air for me, and I think that’s the real reason it’s separate from DR. It’s not as cruel and not as stressful. It’s a lot more chill, but the mysteries were still enough to get me excited and look forward to the next maze I would enter. The mystery labyrinths were probably my favorites elements of the game. They were just so much fun. And every single character was so likeable, (yes even some of the peacekeepers were fun aside of one or two that I absolutely despise. mostly yomi and guillame lol but I guess I kinda like yomi a bit more bc of the fandom)

And I grew to love Yuma EVEN more. He is honestly one of the best written protagonists I’ve seen in a long time. It’s hard to do timid protagonists right, but RainCode definitely nailed it with Yuma. He had his moments, but it wasn’t enough to be obnoxious. He also shined in more ways than one. And my god, so many relatable moments… (I have anxiety too xD) He was so charming and cute the whole time and even had his badass moments. This little guy is the whole package and I LOVE him for that. Truly a unique and fun main character that blows every DR protagonist out of the water.

(Yes, I said what I said.)

And the ending, GOOD LORD THE ENDING?? It was so well executed, and the ending twist villain was immediately my second favorite character after the protagonist. I could go on about how much I loved the ending but if I did, we’d be here all day and I don’t want to spoil the entire game…so… I’ll leave it at that.

When I finished the game, I was so satisfied. (Yes I love it more than DR, what are you gonna do about it?) It left me super happy and made me want to make some fan content for it. Though I was still very quiet on twitter and had a feeling since twitter is a more complicated platform, I couldn’t gush about the game too much due to fear of spoiling other people…and when one of your favorite characters is just the whole secret of the game’s core mystery, I couldn’t talk about it too much… >.>

So, then I did the unthinkable. I went back to tumblr… It’s a little embarrassing but this account is actually my old one I had from years ago. I was on tumblr more 2013 to 2017 before I abandoned the site when it no longer seemed fun and there were times that I’d rather forget... (let’s just say that I used to RP with my OCs and…one of my RP ex friends catfished me and it made me feel VERY uncomfortable. I wanted to forget it, so I ran away and never returned.) I was super nervous to come back and try to post again, so my first RC related post was about him being a naegiri child.

After that I began making more edits once I gained access to the sprites and full body arts. I made some Pokémon AU edits because those were always fun, and then I started making feverish edits of Yuma’s sprites. My first post ended up becoming a hit and I caught the attention of some people. They liked what I was doing so it gave me a bit of confidence to continue. I got even more attention, and it made my confidence go up even more.

And then I started trying to draw art again, something I gave up long ago. My first few arts were a little rocky at best, but so many people enjoyed it! One of my older arts ended up becoming pretty popular. Through this my few pieces of art, my many sprite edits, and my first fan fiction (Home Is Where The Heart Is) got me pretty well recognized in the Rain code community on here. So much so that I felt confident enough to give myself a title. The CEO of RainCode Whump or “Whumpcode” and all of this confidence made me decide to turn my blog into a fandom and sick whump blog. It became a full blown obsession that possessed my mind that I've become TOO passionate about. Never thought making these little guys suffer would bring me this much joy... XD

Over time, I’ve drawn more art and written more fics than I ever had for a fandom. Before I never ever made fandom art, and I would usually only write one sickfic per fixation. (my last ones being demon slayer and spy x family) But here I am, making more art pieces than I ever have before (hell even doing a MONTH ART CHALLENGE) and improving even! And having 7 fanfictions of RainCode, 6 with Yuma and one with Makoto. And those two became my prime targets and muses for my art. Drawing them is easier for me and they’re my favorites so it brings me such joy to draw them. I love MakoYuma so much. Maybe not so much romantically, but friendship and familial. They have such potential to be so much, and I adore them. Plus putting them in sicknarios and situations is fun (I think we can all agree on that haha)

I think I’m talking too much, so I will say one more thing. I never thought my fixation on this game would last this long. I was positive it would go away after just a few months at best. The game is great but nothing amazing to keep thinking about for too long for me. But I think the main reason I was able to keep my fixation on this game for almost a year (and ongoing) is because of the fandom. (specifically, the Tumblr fandom, but some people on twitter are cool too) I’m honestly so happy I returned to tumblr and was able to make a name for myself in this community. I have met so many talented artists and creators and even made some new friends (and even got a few apprentices to take under my wing) If it weren’t for everyone’s support, I don’t think I would have ever done this much and made it this far.

I’ve essentially made a platform for myself, and I didn’t think tumblr would be a place I’d check daily ever again. To think this silly little game…would change my life so much and make me happier than I’ve ever been in such a long time. I feel recognized and like I belong, I’m finally able to be loud and proud about my passions for sick whump and not worry too much about it, I’ve finally found my prime target and I have fun with him every time, I’ve gotten back into the arts of drawing and writing again and I think I’ve made some of my best work yet, and I’ve met so many wonderful people and even collaborated with them on some fun projects too! (Here's the most popular one and also the first one I did!) It’s just been…so wonderful… I am so happy to be part of such a chill talented and fantastic community TwT So thank you everyone… this is all thanks to your support… <3

Sorry I’m getting a little mushy here aren’t I… x’D I just couldn’t be more grateful for this game if I tried… So, thank you so much Rain Code, for existing and doing so much for me and making me so happy… I have never had this much fun in a fixation before, and I never felt like I was ever truly part of any fandom and was always just a lurker. It feels so good to finally feel like part of a fandom you love, and also be well liked, admired and accepted by others despite your niche being a little on the odd side… XD

I really hope there will be a sequel for this game, and we’ll see all these wonderful characters again. After all I’ve been through with this title and how much joy and purpose it brought me, consider me a fan for life. I will be dedicated to every future title in this series and play the hell out of it. And I hope it gains a wider audience come October when it is released for more consoles. (Just hoping no weirdos take over and ruin it with stupid drama and horrible things like the DR fandom…)

Though once new fans come in and are also tumblr users…I wonder what they’d even think of me and my place and takes when it comes to this series… XD (hopefully they’ll be nice to me… XD)

Anyway, I’ve said enough.

Happy Anniversary RainCode!!

☔💜👻🔍

#rain code #master detective archives: rain code #yuma kokohead #shinigami #kokogami #pixeldoodles #my art #mdarc #mdarc fanart #raincode #I won't say much here... just what a game <3 #thank you for existing and thank you all for being so supportive of what I do it truly means more to me than you'll ever understand <3 #also this post has links to my history and growth with this fandom #so I hope you enjoy seeing the pixel museum of all things raincode :3

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idksmtms · 7 months

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You Are Not One Of Us (Poseidon x Norse Goddess!reader) - Part 3

Full Request - Part 2

Part 2 << PART3 >> Part 4

AN: I’m so sorry this is so late! I’ve been so busy with life and then I was so tired I kinda lost the motivation to write but I’m back now!!! Also, sorry this is so short, it's kind of a filler before all the big stuff happens!

Side note: I’m so proud of the way I choose to show their messaging systems - will continue in ending note -

Summary: Forced apart, you and Poseidon try to find ways to communicate.

Word count: 2,604

Trigger Warnings: she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, profanity, innuendo, age gap (even tho they are both thousands of years old), god racism?? Idk they act like “foreigner gods” is a bad thing, lusting, liking the fact that he looks older (is this a warning???), (please let me know if I missed any)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians characters. I do not claim to own any of the Percy Jackson and the Olympians characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so.

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

After you were thrown from Olympus and forbidden to even be near your love, it stormed for two weeks straight. With every day of the storm, more houses were destroyed, more people hurt, with no sign of an end. The people trekked to Poseidon’s temples every day with offerings, they prayed until their voices were hoarse, but the rain didn’t cease. The people believed he had given up on them, that they had done something to anger him. They didn’t know the utter heartbreak that coursed with the ichor in his veins. They didn’t know that this was the true despair of a god, that it could destroy them all.

You had been taken back to Asgard and cared for like you were newly-made, the Aesir tip-toeing around you and hoping not to set off any catastrophes. You had become numb since you had been brought home, moving around the halls of Valhalla like a lost spirit. Odin and Frigg tried so hard to bring you back, to do something that would return you to yourself, but it was all in vain. The only thing that you could possibly want was him.

Every day you walked the fjords, standing right on the edge of a cliff, the breeze pressing on your back, hoping to push you off. You had roamed every inch of the fjords, combed every cliffedge. You waited for Pegasus to find you, to whisk you away to your love, but the winged stallion never came. You hoped for a sign, any sign that both of you weren’t lost to each other, but nothing came.

And then, when you were beginning to lose all hope, you looked down over the edge of the cliff, straight down and into the swirling waters that frothed and smashed against the sharp rocks. There was no pegasus, but a huge clump of seaweed. You had never seen the seaweed come up near the fjords before in your whole existence, not this much anyway. It was always deep under the water, or only a few specks of it floated up and washed ashore. But there was so much of it floating near the edge that it created an island on the water.

Your heart stopped in your chest as you watched it float to the cliff wall and bump against it. Again and again it floated into the cliff, as if waiting for something before it would allow itself to disperse. You clenched your hands together, breath suddenly shallow, then took a run and jumped off the cliff.

The water was icy, and your skin began to tingle as the bubbles floated up around you and to the surface. You waited until they had all disappeared then allowed yourself to push to the surface as well, treading water and staring up at the sky for a moment. It had been so long since you had gone swimming, since you had enjoyed the sea as you once had, and it felt immeasurably good to be immersed in it once more. You smiled, wider and brighter than you had ever done since being back from Olympus. You allowed yourself to drop into the water again and again, ceasing the swirling of your arms and legs to just float in it. It felt like a hug from Poseidon. Then you swam over to the island of kelp and began sifting through it.

Carefully pulling each piece away and gathering it into your other hand. If it truly was a message from him you wouldn’t let any of it go to waste. It was slippery and a little slimy but you just held on tighter as you straightened out each piece and lay it in your other hand. Right in the centre of the bundle, you found five oyster shells. They were placed in a perfectly straight row in the perfect centre of the kelp and they were… perfect. You had never seen an oyster like that, perfectly black on the outside like a mussel but still rippled so you knew it was an oyster. You reached out and gently picked one up. Your hands shook and tears filled your eyes until the oyster became blurry. You wiped at them haphazardly, blinking until you could see again and the tears had mixed into the seawater.

The oyster was just barely open, a thin crack that you tried to peek through, but you couldn’t see anything inside. You dug your nails into the opening and used whatever godly strength you possess to pry it open just enough without breaking it fully. It was a rather delicate task and you had to stop a few times for fear of cracking the shell, but when you got it open you found a beautiful pearl sitting in the centre. It wasn’t perfectly round (as you found that natural pearls rarely were) and was actually rather flat with its edges poking out here and there so it looked like a splash of water in pearl form. You picked it out of the shell, the oyster within not giving any resistance, and you held it in your palm. It seemed smooth, and glinted different colours in the grey light. You flipped it over, and you found that there were little scratches on the pearl. They were much too small for you to decipher at first, but as you brought it closer to your eye and realised that it was writing, your heart began to thunder. ‘To have and to hold’ was all it said. You stared at it, heart in your throat, and gently placed it back in the oyster, shutting it and resting it on its bed. The next was the same, except this pearl was smoother around the edges, almost like a flat oval. ‘For better or worse’ it said in the same small writing. The one after it was almost perfectly round but also flat and thin like a drachma. ‘For richer or for poorer’. The next pearl was sharp, its edges jagged and spiking out. ‘Until death do us part’. You caressed it, allowing the sharpest edge to cut into your skin and the bead of blood to stain the pearl. You whispered each word aloud as you opened the pearls, hoping that since you were in the water that he could hear it, that he would know. The final pearl was a perfect sphere and as large as the first segment of your pinky finger. The writing was inscribed around it, and you spun it over and over, reading the words until they were screaming inside your head, until you couldn’t read them anymore because your eyes were streaming with tears and you were sobbing so heavily that water splashed up and into your mouth. ‘I love you’ it read, inscribed over and over around the pearl so that it looked like it was scratched all over.

You floated there for a moment, staring at the vows, at the pearls, then let yourself sink under the water, eyes closed. You screamed the words into the water, bubbles floating around your face, voice garbled, but you screamed until you had no air left and even your body began to tire. You wanted him to hear you, needed him to know. Then you surfaced, breathing heavily and feeling lighter than you had before coming to the cliffs. You looked at each pearl again, caressed them, then gently placed them back into their shells. You wrapped the shells up in the seaweed, creating a tight parcel and tying it up with the seaweed you had stripped away before. You stayed in the water a while longer, feeling the caress of it on your skin, pretending it was his arms wrapping around you, his fingers running up and down your arms. Then, when it became close to the time of the nightly feast and knowing the others would begin to worry if you did not show up, you grabbed the parcel and made your way back to your new home, a small house built at the bottom of the hills that led to the cliff edges.

It was more of a hut, built in the viking style and furnished sparsely. You had lost all your taste for glamour in the last weeks, lost the feeling of being a goddess, and had conjured this place, quiet and secluded and right by the cliffs you had once enjoyed. You left the pile of seaweed in the hall of the house by the entrance, thinking of ways to decorate your house with it. You placed the shells in order on a shelf just above your bed. You didn’t want the pearls themselves to be exposed, just in case someone came snooping. You looked at them longingly and kissed each shell before making the journey back to Valhalla. You had to find a way to send a message in return. You had to.

Poseidon sat on the beach he had once brought you to. He stared out at the water’s edge, watching a happy couple walk along it, a woman in a beautiful dress kicking up splashes of water and the man staring down at her with such devotion in his eyes. He watched them press close to each other, walk further into the water, let it roll over them. He watched them kiss, felt it on his own lips, then a wave crashed over the shadows and they disappeared into seafoam and the sparkle of sunlight on the water.

Poseidon pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, sighing heavily and shaking his head as he muttered angrily to himself. Though he had been forced to stop the storms lest he flood all of Greece, the one in his head never ceased. You were his every thought, consuming him from the inside. He had gone to the lake on Olympus everyday for the week he had been forced to stay there after your banishment. Zeus has wanted all the gods together to feast and be merry for the return of his bolt. Poseidon had not spoken a word the entire time, glaring at his brother with such fire that even Hephaestus could not conjure a flame with such heat. The rest of the time was either spent watching Hermes, trying to figure out if all of this was really his doing, or making the trek to the lake to sit on one of the boulders, feet dipped into the water, and reminiscing on the time he had with you.

Even since had returned to his domain, nothing felt right. The usually comforting embrace of the water now felt hollow. The feeling of the sand under his feet did not mean anything now that he couldn’t share it with you. He no longer felt like the god of the seas, just a god of… nothing. Everywhere he looked he saw something that reminded him of you. He could not escape your memory even if he were trying. Even now, sitting on the beach where you had first kissed, he could only hope you had received his pearls, his vows of marriage.

A butterfly, blue and shiny, fluttered into view. He watched it flap its wings and fly in little twirls, as if looking for something. Then it began to flutter closer, circling its way to him. He watched the little creature with a sad smile, wishing you were here to see it. He knew you would love it. But the butterfly kept coming closer, flittering and fluttering until it sat itself on the tip of his nose. His eyes crossed as he tried to stare at it, eyebrows knitting in a frown, as the insect flapped its wings once, twice, then laid them out flat and stopped moving entirely. Without the strength of its little legs gripping to his nose, the butterfly fell away and into his lap, laying on his thigh as still and dead as he felt. His frown deepened, staring at the creature with its legs poking up into the air and wings perfectly flat.

The structure and pattern suggested it was a monarch butterfly, but they didn’t come in blue. It was old, at least for its species, around 6 weeks if he were to guess, right at the end of its life. With the gentlest movements, he dug his fingertips under the wings of the dead butterfly and lifted it closer to his eyes. He flipped it over and examined the backs of its wings, the beautiful blue that somehow shined even brighter now that it was dead. He stared at the black lines that swirled over the wings, creating little pockets of blue and edged with dots of white. It was in the black lines that he found writing, in the smallest letters possible. Where the lines swirled and made pockets, letters followed them. And there, on the wings of this butterfly that seemed to randomly appear on this beach and randomly choose to land on him, he found his wedding vows. Each one he had sent, returned in the beautiful writing of a goddess. And right at the bottom, in the biggest letters, ‘I love you’. He could almost hear your voice, a whisper in the wind, and he closed his eyes lest the tears fall.

Years passed without a word from neither him nor you. You had settled into your life with the Aesir again, comforted by the pearls that sat above your bed. You opened the shells every night and gazed at them, whispering the words and hoping that somewhere in the sea he felt your love. He too returned to his palace underwater, the butterfly encased in clear ice to be frozen as long as he lived, a reminder that you had said yes, that you had married him. Both of you felt safer knowing he was yours and you were his. It was not a traditional wedding by any means, but it was yours, and you would cherish it until the end of your days.

After the first three decades of peace and no sign of anyone knowing that you had sent messages to each other, you sent one more, another butterfly with a simple reminder that you loved him. In return you received a conch shell, not too large but still a hefty weight in your palm. When you lifted it to your ear, in the whisper of the ocean you could hear his voice, telling you he loved you. Every night you put it to your ear and let it lull you to sleep.

So many years passed in this way, changes coming and going, empires rising and falling. Suddenly the modem age arrived, bringing its technology and skyscrapers and all of you gods into each other’s vicinity once more. Now the Greek gods were huddled in New York, living lavishly atop the Empire State building while the halls of the Aesir occupied Boston, hiding in plain sight. The battles continued, the monsters still roared, but things had become slow, the gods became lazy. While you kept your cabin in the fjords, your connection to Poseidon and your homeland, you were forced to spend much of your time in Boston to keep yourself alive, to keep your facade with the other gods.

The clashes between the worlds of the Greek and the Norse became more frequent, though all the gods kept their promise of staying away from each other. It was not until the battle of the Draugur that this promise was broken. That after millennia you were face to face with your love once more…

A/N: I chose things from the sea as his messaging system because obvi he’s the god of the sea. But I chose butterflies for Y/n because I see her character in so many ways that I feel the butterfly embodies. I was thinking of the butterfly effect (a butterfly flaps its wings in one place and a storm starts in another) and that’s literally Y/n because she’s this small thing who’s seen as gentle and underestimated but she causes all these big things simply by existing. And then butterflies are seen as small and gentle and colourful but there’s literally a species of butterfly that drinks the tears of turtles and that felt so accurate to her character because she’s seen as small and pretty and colourful (and she is) but she can also be vicious and violent for survival. Anyway, thank you for coming to my ted talk.

Taglist: @thicficbich1, @pasta-warlord

#percy jackson show #percy jackson x reader #percy pjo #percy series #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #perseus jackson #poseidon pjo #poseidon #poseiden #poseidad #poseidón #pjo poseidon #poseidon fic update #poseidon x reader #posiedon #posideon #poseidon deity

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justwonder113 · 5 months

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Head over heels - Lee Know pt2

First part here (Can be read as a standalone)

Warning: Cursing(I can't help it). mentions of drinking. The reader is overthinking in the beginning but the end is fluffy. Minho is a menace and I love him for it. I can't think of anything else please tell me if I missed anything. Reader is gender neutral.

Word count - 1.4k

Masterlist

A/N- Hey lovelies, I'm back with the continuation of the previous Minho drabble. I wasn't thinking of writing the second part but I got inspired so here we are. I really hope you'll like it. Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated. I'd love to hear what you guys think. Thank you for all the love and support you give me, it really means so much to me. Please take care of yourselves, love you all so much!! <3 <3

The one and only sun, the sourse of light and basically all life on earth was sometimes a huge dick. Like what do you mean you're brutally waking someone up from their sweet slumber on 8 am on sunday? That's just evil. Do you know what they were up to all night? Maybe they need their much needed rest. Talk about inconsiderate.

Grumbling curses at the bright rays of sunshine which felt like you were being poked in your eyeballs you turned to your side, trying to escape them. You furrowed your face into your pillow hoping to fall back asleep. But you couldn't. Because you realized couple of things. First of all your so called pillow was clearly breathing. Second of all the familiar comforting smell clearly belonged to your best friend. Third, how the fuck was Minho's chest so firm yet so soft?

Hold on, hold on. Why were you sharing a bed with Minho? Normally whenever he slept over he opted for using the guest bedroom or the couch if he was too lazy to get up. It was rare of you to share a bed. Wait did you do something?

You tried to recall the events of the last night. You were at the club. Minho got a bit drunk, you went to get him some water. Some deuchbag tried to hit on you but Minho scared him off. You got to your apartment. You asked him to help with detangling your Chains and you two made out for hours, you talked in between and some time into talking about some random stuff Minho fell asleep.

You made out wit your best friend! What were you thinking?! You're clearly into him, you have been for a while, but what about him? Okay you knew Minho wouldn't just kiss you out of nowhere but still! You have been extra flirty lately but he hasn't given you a hint or a clue that he romantically likes you like that. Maybe it was just a spur of moment thing. Let's say he wanted to test things out. Maybe he wanted to test if he liked you like that? Oh god, what if he regreted it? What if you ruined everything. Oh God, what if this messed up your friendship. You couldn't live without him in your life. Maybe it was an overdramtic announcement but he was too dear for you. He was the reason you believed in suolmated be it platonic or romantic. God you shouldn't have indulged in kissing him when you knew he was still a bit tipsy. But he was so close tho and his lips looked so pretty and kissable... Oh what the hell?

The hands tightening around you stopped your train of thoughts. Great you woke him up now. You were mad at the damn sun for waking you up and now you were the one to wake him up? Great job.

Minho's groggy yet soft morning voice startled you. "I can physically feel you overthinking. It's too early, go to sleep."

"But Minho." You cringed at yourself at how whiny your voice sounded. Minho opened his eyes to give you an unimpressed look. He wrapped his hands more tightly and brought you even closer. You both loved and hated how at peace you felt whenever you were around him. Being between his harm made every cell in your body relax, except your heart, which felt like it would burst any second. When did you even manage to fall so hard for him?

"Do you like me?" The suddenness of his question startled you. You couldn't with him sometimes.

Unimpressed with the lack of answer Minho opened his eyes and full on glared at you. Normally you would laugh it off or try to make him well not upset but now all you could think about was how could a human look so breathtaking first thing in the morning. With messy hair and slightly dark circles from the few hours of sleep he got. He was like a walking renaissance painting what the hell? Minho was about to let go of you when you started talking. Well you had to say something.

"It pisses me off how pretty you look first thing in the morning."

You blinked at you once, then twice then rolled his eyes. His hand came up to your cheek and you thought that maybe it was one of those rare moments when he was sweet and affectionate, but no, you were proven wrong when he slightly pulled on the skin of your cheek.

"First of all, I'm always pretty. Second of all I could say the same to you." He let go of your skin and now slightly grazed your soft skin. "Third of all you're getting distracted sweetheart." This smooth fucker. You could feel your face start to heat up.

"You have never called me sweetheart."

"Hm, do you not like it?" Minho mused and looked at you with eyes full of mischief. The fucker knew he was getting you all flustered up.

"I didn't say I didn't like it."

"You're cute." Why was he so keen on teasing you today?

"Shut up!" - You couldn't help but groan. You didn't fully appreciate how flustered he made you feel.

The smirk on his face grew even wider if that was possible."Make me!"

If he thought that you wouldn't retaliate! You looked at him with challenging eyes. "I just might!"

"So you do like me." He said so casually while playing with strand of your hair you were taken aback for a second. God you hated how your heart basically did a backflip at his soft voice.

"You're infurating." You wanted to hide your face now, you knew this little asshole was having the time of his life watching you get this flustered.

"And you're not denying." Why would you? He knew you liked him.

"One fact doesn't exclude the other smartass!"

"So you're admitting it." How was he so casual about it?

"Maybe I am. What are you going to do about it?" You challenged him. Proud of yourself when you saw that your comment got to him and suprised him for a second.

"Then, I am going to kiss you senseless like you're pretty butt deserves to. And I'm going to take you some place fancy for our first date." To make his point across he even took your hand and softly kissed it.

"Aww you think my butt is pretty." This was the only response you could muster up. At this point you were amazed how was your heart still working.

"Well of course I think my partner's butt is pretty." Did he just say what you thought he did?

"Partner?" You couldn't hide your surprise as well as your hopefulness.

"Bold of you to assume You have any way out of this relationship." What a romantic. Why was he so him?

You decided to tease him a little, after all that's all he did all morning. "What if I'm tired of you?"

"You can always sit the fuck down." Again, so romantic.

"What if there's no chair?" Based on the smirk on Minho's face you knew he was going to make it dirty. "Okay never mind, I got it. Okay, what if we lose chemistry?"

"I have seen breaking bad, we will cook something up."

"Okay you're clearly quoting that one tiktok I sent you."

Minho glared at you for a second. "Doesn't mean I'm not being genuine."

"What if your cats hate me?" Minho rolled his eyes at you.

"They love you and you know it."

"Yeah, I'm way too adorable for them to not love me. Okay what if..." Minho didn't let you finish.

"No what if's. I love you and it's clear you feel the same. I knew what I was doing when I kissed you last night and I know what I'm doing right now. You're mine and I'm going to treat you like a royalty until you let me. Don't overthink your pretty mind now. Let's just cuddle for a while and then I will take you out for the fanciest breakfast ever." Again not really romantic but the butterflies in your stomach still decided to have a French revolution in your tummy.

"I still hate you"

"Whatever you say sunshine." He leaned in and sealed his lips with yours.

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girlboybug · 1 year

Note

writing request for a smut fic with established relationship with javi x reader? dialogue prompt: javi: “he looked at you funny” reader: “i didn’t know you were the jealous type..”

OOO i like this muahaha >:) i hope you enjoy hehe, thank u for requesting!! <3

art deco

"shining like gunmetal, cold and unsure. baby you're so ghetto, you're lookin' to score."

or the one where jealousy happens to be a good look on javi.

what’s playing 🎧 : art deco by lana del rey

content warnings : SMUT, jealous!javi, blowjobs, face fucking, car sex, semi public sex (?), unprotected sex (extremely unwise w javi idk wtf he got goin on down there), creampie, breeding kink, dirty talk, themes of slut shaming, threats of exhibitionism, threats of restraints e.g cuffs, brat tamer!javi (been dying to write that)

trigger warnings : mentions/threats of gun usage, alcohol, both reader and javier are tipsy at best, if there is anything i missed pls lmk!

word count : 4k

a/n : im pulling SO MUCH out my ass w this bc i havent finished narcos and only rlly pay attention when pedro or boyd is on screen and even tho im half mexican my ass cannot speak spanish for the life of me teehee sorry yall

you’re a bad actor.

you’re also bad at lying and honestly, just generally bad at the things javier happens to be especially good at.

but that’s okay, javier likes you like that. it’s refreshing, endearing, to be with someone who hasn’t gotten good at lying or pretending to be someone they’re not. and actually, he’s currently watching you fail at that right now.

you’re at the bar, swirling around your drink that he bought for you, pretending to not notice the way he’s eyeing you from across the club. he thinks it's cute how you keep stealing glances at him, giggling to yourself whenever he catches you.

you two do this little song and dance every now and then, it keeps things exciting and fun, and you never have complaints about it.

you pretend to be the single, bored girl sitting alone at the bar, and javier just so happens to swoop in, introducing himself as the man who’s been ordering drinks for you all night, ready to charm you into his bed for the night. it’s stupid when you say it out loud, but the way he fucks you when you do this little act makes it seem like the best goddamn idea he’s ever come up with.

it’s harmless fun between a couple, and the tension you two create throughout the night is always a recipe for mind blowing sex. however, it seems things are going a bit off script tonight.

a man invites himself to the empty barstool beside you that was reserved for javier, but he’s oblivious to the little game you’re playing right now. “hi there,” he says, grinning, and you try your best to hold back a long sigh while you greet him back politely.

javier’s hand tightens around the beer he’s got, wishing the neck of the bottle belonged to the man staring you down. he decides he’ll keep watch for awhile, he trusts you, and wants to see how this’ll play out, despite his patience already wearing dangerously thin.

“can i buy you another drink?” he asks, motioning towards the dwindling liquid in your glass. its not a difficult question, but the answer isn’t coming to you like it should be.

you are playing the role of a single woman tonight, and you won’t let anything go further with this guy than receiving a free drink.

eh. why not?

“yeah, sure, thank you.” you smile back, and he hurriedly calls over the bartender, asking for two glasses of whatever it is you ordered. javier shifts in his seat, his jaw coming down harder than it was just a moment ago as he watches you share a drink with someone that isn’t him.

javier follows his wandering eyes, how they trail up and down your figure, making it obvious he’s wondering what you’ve got on underneath.

javier wants to walk up to him to tell him how he knows what you’ve got under that dress, because he picked it out.

god, this night fuckin’ sucks so far.

“i noticed you for awhile now, what’re you doin’ here all alone?” he asks, and you get a little nervous with the way he gets closer to you. “i’m just waiting for my boyfriend to show up.” you answer, deciding the single woman role didn’t feel as fun anymore.

“ahh, i see.” he replies, and you expect him to scoot farther from you, or better yet, leave. but much to your dismay, he stays.

“it’s just,” he starts, and you glance down at your shoes, saying a silent prayer for him to get on with what he’s got to say before he leaves you alone for good.

“you’ve been here for awhile now, you sure he’s comin’ honey?” he questions you, faux concern in his voice and you close your eyes for a moment to hide the way they roll at him.

“yeah, i’m sure.” you reply curtly. “how about i keep you some company while you wait for him then, how’s that sound?” he gets closer than you would’ve liked, boldly resting his arm around your shoulders, and yep, that’ll do it.

javier’s beer clatters down onto his table as he shoots up from his seat, stalking over to you. he’s quick to join you, standing tall behind your seated figure, his strong chest a familiar surface against your back.

“uh who’re you–”

“her boyfriend.” he answers, eyes lowered testingly, practically itching for him to give him a reason to swing. “hi baby,” you beam, turning around and craning your neck up to give him a kiss. he leans down, holding your chin while he kisses you.

with your lips still connected, he stares at the scoffing man that just sits and watches.

“yeah well i wasn’t the one who kept her waiting all night so why don’t you get lost? we were havin’ a conversation, weren’t we sweetheart?” he looks at you as if you’d actually agree, and you open your mouth to defend javier, but he doesn’t need you to, he’s more than eager to put this guy back in his place.

he steps away from behind your back, moving right in front of you now, leaning in close to the man. he reaches around to his lower back, sliding his gun to the side of his waist before he’s got it in his clutch, pressing it to the man’s ribs.

“you have 3 seconds to get the fuck out my face before i stop being so polite.” he whispers in his ear, and the man stiffens with immediate fear once he registers what’s being pointed at him.

he swivels out of the stool, hastily hopping out to make his way out the club all together. javier turns back to you once he’s out of his field of vision, expecting a profuse thank you javi, but he gets quite the opposite.

“what the hell was that?” you question, sounding angry, and uh oh, you saw that.

“baby,” he starts off but you just huff, climbing off the stool. “that was way too far,” you point at him and he sighs, holding your arms, rubbing them up and down, trying to settle your irritation down.

“but he was making you uncomfortable, and you didn’t see the way he was looking at you–”

“and what way was he looking at me for you to pull a gun out on him?” you whisper yell and he starts to join you in your frustration.

“he looked at you…funny, like he was just thinking about fucking you the entire time.” he sounds upset that he even has to explain himself to you about this, and you catch it, deciding to throw it back at him when you turn on your heel to leave.

he growls with annoyance as he follows you out the club, grabbing your arm and forcing you to turn back and look at him.

you exhale sharply, looking up at him, switching your weight onto your left foot. “i knew you could be a little…impulsive sometimes but jesus jav, i didn’t realize you were the jealous type that would do something so…stupid.”

his annoyance is fast to turn into a hard glare, and you see the sudden shift, instantly feeling regretful. he purses his lips to the side, laughing dryly. “stupid huh?” he clicks his tongue and you shake your head, walking closer to him now.

“javi, i’m sorry,” you try to remedy the mess of this situation, but unlucky for you, what little patience he was holding onto is now gone.

he grabs the hand of yours that’s reaching towards his jaw, he isn’t in the mood for it. he pulls you along by your wrist to the parking lot.

“yeah, you’re about to be baby,” he mutters, and your heart picks up, your heel clad feet in turn picking up speed to keep up with him.

he ushers you into his backseat, slamming the door behind you once you’re both in. he tugs you into his lap, your legs on either side of him, your knees making contact with the cold vinyl. his hands find their way to your ass, squeezing it hard.

you gasp a little, arching into his chest. the second you move in closer, his lips are on your’s. it’s not gentle, it’s not slow paced, and it’s not soft, no, that’s for when you’re good. and you’ve been anything but.

you’re grinding in his lap, his growing bulge feels perfect right up against your dampening panty clad cunt, too perfect that you can’t stop yourself. you’re moaning in his mouth, struggling to keep up the pace and intensity in the way his lips are moving with your’s.

he tastes like beer and cigarettes, smells like it too, with traces of his cologne that you love. he’s like paradise incarnate and you want to live in him forever.

when he pulls away you're left panting in his hold, lips parted, brushing against each other, stealing the other person’s breaths. “you know,” he sighs lowly, his words trailing up your spine, leaving shivers in their wake.

“just because i let you pretend you’re single for the night doesn’t mean you actually are,” he says, and he sounds serious, but there’s something hidden in his air, something challenging, like he wants you to argue just so he can put you right back where you belong.

you nod heavily like he speaks words of righteousness, cupping his jaw in your hands. “i know javi, i know,” you pepper his face in kisses, but he remains still, outwardly unphased.

“guess you just got too excited at the thought of bein’ a slut huh?” he breathes out flicking a brow at you, keeping you in close when you try to inch away from him at his accusations.

“i’m not a slut–” he unfolds your offended arms, hands leaving your wrists to hold your thighs that rest on either side of his lap. “no baby it’s alright, s’not a totally bad thing. i like sluts. they let you do whatever you want to ‘em,” he grips your thighs, forcefully sliding you off his lap and letting you land down on your knees before him. you gasp, holding onto his legs for steadiness.

“and they let you all while tryin’ to convince you they aren’t sluts. isn’t that funny? he chuckles, caressing your cheek, peering down at you while he does so.

“javi,” you say, you don’t know what to say next, the only certainty that remains is that his name never sounds wrong coming from you.

“if you wanna be a slut so bad then go ahead, i won’t stop you.” he shrugs, leaning back into the seat, arms stretched out beside him. you swallow away your stuttering, running your hands up and down your thighs. “what do you want me to do?” you ask smally, looking up at him from under your lashes.

he readjusts, lifting his hips in the air, settling back down closer to you. he tilts his head, eyes flickering from his crotch back to your gaze, “what sluts do best baby.” he says under a gravelly breath. your thighs close just a little tighter at that, feeling eager to oblige to his insinuations.

you unzip his levi’s, unbuttoning them before you’re pulling him from out his boxers, throat getting tight at the way he pulses in your hands. precum is already beading at his tip, and you lean forward, flicking your tongue over it. he hisses quietly, a hand coming behind your neck.

your lips envelope the tip, shutting your eyes when you trail down until you can’t take any more of him down your throat. he groans, throwing his head back, bucking his hips into your mouth. you gag around him, hand trembling while you try to jerk off what you can’t fit into your mouth.

he rolls his head forward, holding you by the back of your head, starting to thrust further in, chuckling to himself at the way you gag. he lets you slide off him, jerking his slick cock off while you catch your breath.

you’re staring at each other in the thick air, the night breeze sneaking in from the cracked windows, making your nipples perk from behind your lacy bra.

the moon glimmers through the side window facing javier, and it panels his cheekbone, across his jaw and down his chin, trickling over the curve of his collarbones.

he looks so beautiful like this, sitting tall in front of you, looking at you like he could tear you apart with one hand, jaw clenching when your thumb slides over the head of his cock.

the way he’s looking at you elicits a reaction from your body before your mind can reach it. you lean back down, taking him deeper into your mouth.

you don’t mind the way he keeps your head still, using your mouth the way he likes.

he fucks your mouth like he wants to prove a point, and at this moment he doesn’t even know what the point is, he hardly even remembers where he’s currently at, the only thing that makes sense is how fucking good you’re taking him down your throat.

you’re being so good, so perfectly compliant for him, and what’s fueling you is the tingles exploding between your thighs at the way he’s using you.

the grunting utterances of your name in his spewing breaths adds propellent to the roaring fire building in your lower tummy.

his groans get a little airier, picking up in quantity, coming out one after the other, fucking your mouth so deep your nose brushes against the brown curls sitting just above his cock. “look at me,” he instructs through gritted teeth, and you listen, blinking away your teary eyes to look up at him.

he sends one, two, three, hard thrusts into your mouth before he pulls out, resting the tip over your lips. he pants to himself, shutting his eyes closed while you take this time to do the same and catch your own breath. “what’s wrong?” you sound a little rasped, and he can’t fight the smug look on his face at your voice.

“as much as i’d like to let you continue, i got better things planned baby,” he chuckles breathlessly, pulling you back up into his lap.

he pushes your dress up, exhaling when he sees how wet you are in the panties he picked out for you. “javi, i didn’t bring any condoms, do you have one?” you press your hands to his chest, momentarily halting him, and he looks at you, scoffing quietly.

“huh. sluts don’t usually care about that kinda thing.” he rubs the head of his cock over your clothed clit, watching your lowered eyes fully shut, a moan slipping out at his ministrations, proving him right. “s’not gonna fit like this,” your whimper when he moves your panties to the side, flicking himself up and down your folds. “it will baby, i’ll make it fit.” he promises, pressing a kiss to your lips.

you rarely ever got on top, he was always very adamant about taking care of you, whether that means you’re on your back, legs thrown over his shoulders or you with your wrists being hoisted by his tight grip while he fucks you senseless.

the constant is, he’s always on top.

he’s big, no matter the position he’s got you in, it’s always a stretch he has to ease you into. which is why you’re typically reluctant to get on top, but right now he isn’t asking, he’s telling.

“javi, s’not gonna go in like this,” you whimper nervously, curling into his chest. head on his shoulder. he rolls his eyes, fingers gliding right over your clit to shut you up. and it works, naturally, he chuckles.

your breath gets faster when he swirls over your clit with his fingers, squirming around in his lap. he holds himself from the base of his cock, circling over your fluttering hole. your arms wrap around his broad shoulders, fingers playing with the back of his hair.

he starts crowning into you, pushing in the fat head of his cock, pausing the breath in the middle of your throat. it rumbles out as a pained moan when he continues pushing in. “god javi,” you whine, legs on either side of him flexing with nerves at the intrusion.

“doin’ all the work for you baby, jus’ take it for me,” he mutters in your ear, his mustache tickling your jaw while he rubs your clit to ease you into it.

“actin’ like i haven’t fucked this pussy before, know you can handle it, sè una niña grande para mí,” he murmurs, kissing your cheek, and you melt, nodding desperately. “i am,” you mumble, bracing yourself for when he bottoms out inside you. he thrusts upward, holding you by the fat your ass, pulling you down onto him.

the air is knocked out your lungs, and all you can do is hold on to his leather clad shoulders for dear life. your hips start moving in sync, rolling into each other, and you feel insane, it feels so good, you start thinking maybe you’ll do this more often.

the sting from the stretch subsides soon, but the feeling of being full stays, and you keep it, loving how good it feels. the head of his cock nudges deep inside you, bobbing up into your throat and you fall apart, fucking yourself on him, addicted to the way he hits every little spot inside you that you need.

you’re moaning, panting loudly in his ear, and he eats every single one of them up, gripping your hips when he guides you down onto him. kisses lay wetly across the side of his neck, teeth graze over his ear, praises of how fucking big he is, and how good he feels inside you, relay to him over and over, making his cock twitch when he picks up the pace in his thrusts.

“you’re so nice while i fuck you baby, maybe this is how i should shut you up more often huh?” he teases, but you don’t care, you’d start arguments with him if it meant he’d always feel this good in you.

“in so deep,” you whimper more to yourself but he hears you, he hears it all. he hears how fucking soaked you are around him, hears every little breath, every little moan that comes out of you.

he smacks over your ass, chuckling to himself when you whine and clamp down around him. “maybe i should go find that guy huh?” he leans forward, lips on your shoulder when he ruts up into you deeper, right there to hold you closer when you keen into him at the hard thrust.

“ ‘should find him and fuck you in front of him, show him how its done, what do you think of that baby?” he grunts, hands tightening over your hips.

you just moan, babbling something incoherent when you grind down onto him, his words acting as a lighter underneath the growing flame while you bounce on him. you squeeze around him, your body unashamed of how much you like the idea of such a dirty act.

he feels the way you clamp down around him, chuckling breathlessly, his hand traveling behind your neck to force you to look at him. “or maybe it’s you who’d like that,” he taunts, expecting a shy shake of your head, but you just nod, trying to meet his thrusts. "i'll do whatever you want javi," you whimper pathetically, and god, that does something to him.

"know you will, so sweet baby," he groans, leaning back to watch where you both meet, loving the sight of his cock entering and disappearing into your cunt.

you tug at the hair from the back of his head, messily kissing all over his jaw and cheek, and he takes it all, adoring how clingy you are with him right now. he pulls the front of your dress down, hooking his fingers under the cups of your bra and groaning to himself when he sees your tits, pretty and pert under the bra, he of course, picked out for you.

black see-through lace, his favorite.

"gonna be the death of me, mi vida," he murmurs to himself, latching his hot eager mouth over them. he assaults the soft skin with his tongue, teeth grazing over your sensitive nipples, a smirk forming around the flesh when he teases the ghost of a bite, wanting to laugh when you squirm and arch your back at his actions.

his fingers find their place back to your clit, rubbing over the nerves like clockwork, syncing the way you bounce on him with harder thrusts, making the pleasure surrounding you inescapable.

breathing is getting harder, but it feels unimportant, everything does when it comes to javi. in this moment if he told you to stop breathing altogether you honestly just might listen to him.

but it's so much so soon, and you want to hold onto the moment for as long as you can, enjoy each stroke of his cock deep inside you longer, and if he keeps touching you like this, you know you won't last. you paw at his hand, trying to push the relentless wrist away. "no more javi, m'gonna cum too fast please," you whimper, but he doesn't agree. you're finished when he's finished.

"do i need to cuff you to the headrest or are you gonna keep those hands to yourself?" he spits, sounding harsh, sounding serious. you whine like a wounded puppy, shaking that empty little head of yours.

"but javi," he grabs your chin, guiding your gaze downward when he moves his jacket to the side, revealing the cuffs that hang from his belt loops. "think i'm kiddin'? hands to yourself or around me. otherwise you get these. your choice," he's still inside you, and you can't take it, you throw your arms around him, hugging him close while trying to get him to move again.

"gonna be good, gonna listen, m'sorry, please move javi, please?"

he senses your desperation, and gives in, continuing his thrusts. you sigh in relief, following the way his hips piston up into you with your own.

"can i touch you?" you whisper, unsure if you're allowed to, but javier relents, nodding with a kiss to your neck. you slide his jacket off eagerly, quickly unbuttoning his shirt before your hands are running along the warm skin of his shoulders, squeezing them when he thrusts right there.

your hands drag down his chest, nails lightly digging into his tanned skin when your head falls back, rising and falling up and down on his cock. his mouth is on you again, tongue swirling over the curve of your chest, gripping them roughly in his wide palms.

he watches you from this view, how you lose yourself when he's got his cock in you, and he thinks maybe he should have encouraged you to ride him earlier.

he's getting close, watching you has only pulled him closer to the end, his cock twitching the more he imagines how good you'd look dripping in his cum. he imagines your trembling thighs being parted by his hands, your abused hole just leaking and leaking from his cum.

"m'close, gonna let me finish inside mi vida?" he grunts, and you nod heavily, clamping harder down around him when he asks. "please, please javi," you beg, and who is he to deny you?

his fingers run around your clit once more, those tight circles from the pads of his fingers bring you right there alongside with him, moaning his name in an incomprehensible voice while his face rests in the crook of your neck, bouncing you on top of him.

"always wanted to cum in you baby, always wanted to fill you up nice an' good —fuck—, make you fuckin' full of me, just know you'd look so fuckin' good just drippin– shit," you're squeezing him like you never have before, his confessions, the ferver in the way he fucks you is just too much, your body acts before you can even process what’s happening.

you cum all around his cock, and the pulsing of your walls, the whimpers of his name from your pretty lips is all he needs to join you in your blinding orgasm. he's cumming inside you, grunting your name and how fuckin' good you are for him, his mouth hot on your neck while he fucks you through your shared orgasms.

he doesn't let up on your clit until the pleasure bleeds into pain, and you can't take it. with heavy breaths you collapse in his arms, panting like you've just ran a marathon, sweaty forehead resting on the cool leather of the seat.

he gently shifts your hips backward, looking down at his cum that pours out of you. he likes the mess, likes how your cunt looks when he rubs his cum across your throbbing clit, you jump at the stimulation, begging him in a tired voice, no more javi.

he listens, taking sympathy on your spent body. he puts your panties back over you, tucking himself away before he repositions you so you're properly sitting in his lap, letting your legs stretch across the rest of the backseat.

"you okay mi bebita?" he murmurs softly, and you hum a sleepy yes, still buzzing from your orgasm. "still mad?" he asks jokingly, pulling a hazy giggle from you.

“i think you just fucked any anger i had left out of me." he laughs proudly at that, rubbing your back. "yeah? maybe that's how we should settle all our fights then."

#javier pena x reader #javier pena narcos #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena #narcos #narcos fanfiction #javier peña #javier pena fic #javier pena x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #javier pena smut #narcos smut #narcos netflix #requested #requests open #open requests #reqs open #javier peña x reader

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lilliths-httyd-blog · 2 years

Text

Summarising every single HTTYD movie, short and episode in roughly one sentence:

HTTYD 1:

ADHD incarnate befriends Death: The Dragon and with the power of friendship they OH GODS OH FUCK OH HOLY SHIT WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT

Legend of the Boneknapper:

Gobber likes to tell campfire stories

Book of Dragons:

DreamWorks attempts to write a reader POV fanfiction

Gift of the Night Fury:

Critical series lore in a Christmas special?? Yeah seems normal for this franchise

Riders of Berk:

1. Mildew tries to get a bunch of teenagers executed or some shit

2. Solidifying Gobber as a total madlad: The episode

3. Hot take: You can skip this episode, it's arguably the worst one in the franchise, but you WILL miss a penis joke so there's that going for it.

4. Toothless develops an Older Sibling complex over Beyblade: The Dragon™ and HOLY FUCK WHAT IS THAT???

5. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU, MILDEW?? I mean I knew you were an ass but I didn't expect THIS??

6. "The films aren't anything like the books!" UM, ACTUALLY- (aka the episode where Hiccup goes full-on Book!Hiccup mode and Alvin is nothing like his book counterpart but the rest of the outcasts are)

7. "Look at this super dangerous dragon I found! I'M GONNA WRESTLE IT!!"

8. Hiccup has body image issues

9. Mildew gets bitten in the ass (SATISFYING)

10. The Mary Sue: Part One

11. The Mary Sue: Part Two

12. Oh yeah Snotlout's dad is an abusive cuck who can go fuck himself I'm not even joking. Love Snotlout tho I gotta say.

13. "IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT?! STRIKE ME DOWN, ZEUS!! YOU DON'T HAVE THE BA-"

14. Toothless has a mortal enemy apparently and it is fucked up

15. (Dagur fanboys start screaming in the distance)

16. Snotlout fixes his mistakes (they were very big mistakes)

17. VALKA??? VALKA MENTION??? HICCUP HAS A DRAGON PLUSHIE??? (silently weeping by the end of the episode)

18. Fishlegs and Snotlout piss off some helicopter parents who are also Invisible Acid Dragons™ (ohhhhhh no)

19. Are there... other Night Furies????

20. Lol no BUT I'LL TELL YOU WHAT THERE IS-

Defenders of Berk:

1. Fight Club reference

2. That one time Meatlug became magnetic and almost died

3. Dagur is gay for Hiccup but like in a yandere way

4. Whoever designed the Screaming Death must have been on a particularly fucked up slice of magic mushroom because I've never seen something more in need of holy water than that dragon (my childhood favourite :D )

5. Snotlout's dad is a fucking asshole but I never thought he'd stoop that low

6. Behold: My second favourite dragon who canonically killed Astrid's uncle

7. They tried to train Terrible Terrors in this episode, guess how that went lmaooo

8. (grabs more holy water) IT'S BACK.

9. Hey remember Tiny Beyblade Dragon? Yeah now he's kinda sorta the size of a house. Meanwhile everything is on fire (twin's fault)

10. Behold: My favourite dragon's frozen carcass preserved in ice- I mean my favourite dragon is hibernating in ice- I mean OH SHIT OH FUCK HOLY FUCKING SHIT OH NO-

11. Dagur subjugates my favourite dragon and then karma bites him in the ass

12. Snotlout and Gustav are an anxiety/adhd wombo-combo

13. Ruffnut cuts her hair short to save the life of a really cute dragon and Dreamworks was too pussy to keep it like that for the rest of the season.

14. (darude sandstorm plays)

15. The dragons get high and try to kill each other

16. Toothless is on drugs (I'm not even joking, during the Toothless POV shots you can literally hear stoner music playing)

17. Dagur with helmet hair Dagur with helmet hair Dagur with helmet hair

18. THORNADO NOOOOOOOOO T-T

19. ALVIN, DAGUR, SNOTLOUT AND THE SCREAMING DEATH. HOW IS THIS SUPPOSED TO GET BETTER THAN IT ALREADY IS???

20. IT GOT BETTERRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!

Dawn of the Dragon Racers:

The gang got new fits and invented a sport

Race to the Edge S1:

1. Oh shit, Dagur's out of prison, better go chase him down and OOOH, SHINY TELESCOPE THINGY?? (Hiccup is a magpie apparently)

2. Gothi once again proving herself to be an absolute madlad

3. Hiccup and the gang move out of home because telescopy thingy told them to. What could possibly go wrong? (GONE WRONG)

4. Welcome to our new home on Dragon's Edge! It's been years since we've been able to function effectively as a team, and Tuffnut's been smoking way too many hallucinogens lately OH FUCK HE WASN'T HALLUCINATING OH FUCK ME

5. Snotlout is gay for Fishlegs

6. NOT GUSTAV NOOOOOOOO

7. Basically what happens when you put me in charge of anything

8. "Look at this super dangerous dragon I found! I'M GONNA WRESTLE IT!!"

9. Fishlegs and Snotlout are gay

10. THE MARY SUE IS BACK AND I LOVE HER SO MUCH

11. WELL THAT PLOT TWIST CAME OUTTA NOWHERE

12. (darude sandstorm vocoded to running in the 90s plays)

13. they made girl dragon pink

Race to the Edge S2:

1. Astrid becomes that "SHOW ME YOUR WAR FACE" guy basically

2. SCOTLAND FOREVER!!! 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 (new villain alert and he is AWESOME)

3. MARY SUE IS WORKING FOR THE VILLAINS NOW???

4. Dreamworks introduces Dragon Werewolfism and does NOTHING with this concept after this episode?? What a ripoff!

5. Fuck Snotlout's dad so much

6. Hiccup punches Snotlout in the face and knocks him out which is no surprise considering he is God of Dragons

7. MARY SUE WAS SPYING ON THE VILLAINS ALL ALONG NOW???

8. Two people and a singular dragon try to fight off an entire armada

9. They succeed somehow

10. Oh hey it's a HTTYD 2 dragon (Free Willy parody? You couldn't have done anything more original?)

11. SKRILL!! SKRILL!! SKRILL!! SKRILL!! SKRILL!! SKRILL!!

12. Prepare to thirst in 3... 2... 1: (Viggo appears)

13. If you thought Dagur was homosexual, you aren't prepared for how gay Viggo gets

Race to the Edge S3:

1. Dagur did WHAT NOW???

2. Fuck Cavern Crashers so much but SNOTLOUT SNOUTLOUT OI OI OI!!!

3. Sword in the Stone parody?? Are all the Fishlegs episodes story parodies now??

4. Did... Did they try to portray Snotlout's dad as being in the right in this episode?? Ew fuck that.

5. Viggo almost caused Covid-19

6. Hiccup forgets that not everyone has ADHD and the dragons go completely fucking feral

7. This show loves to force romances, doesn't it?

8. I think these people took HTTYD/Pokemon crossover fics a bit too far

9. A musical episode which has a reason to exist. Sarah Z was right all along?

10. Favourite Fishlegs episode :)

11. DAGUR DID WHAT NOW???

12. My go-to introductory episode for non-fans. It's got everything. Including Viggo.

13. OKAY BUT THAT CLIFFHANGER WAS METAL

Race to the Edge S4:

1. OH THAT FINALE WAS METAL MALA IS JUST SO METAL I LOVE DEFENDERS OF THE WING

2. If you listen closely you can hear TJ Miller in absolute hysterics in the recording booth

3. At this point in time Viggo only values Hiccup as being worth 1000 gold coins

4. I love Snotlout so much... Spitelout can go suck a bag of rocks

5. Oh fuck yes Dagur's back

6. Viggo throws a hissy fit and kisses a man and Toothless is willing to die just so Hiccup doesn't have to die alone (sobbing)

7. Everyone is high in this episode

8. "You didn't think after all we've been through I'd expose myself without some... added protection?"

9. Jumping into a volcano on purpose: The episode

10. Viggo takes a sip of water in this episode (very important)

11. It took Hiccup and Astrid over four years since their first kiss to officially start dating, but they finally did it and it was one of the best episodes in the whole show

12. Ryker has had enough

13. Viggo confesses his love for Hiccup and then fucking dies (or did he?)

Race to the Edge S5:

1. "The volcano on Dragon's Edge is a dormant volcano" THINK THE FUCK AGAIN, FISHLEGS

2. How the fuck did Gen Z: The Dragon get ahold of Viggo's sword?

3. Savage needs therapy

4. Snotlout's casual sexism almost gets him killed: Lesbian Island edition

5. If you've ever watched an elderly person try to escape a nursing home then you've seen this episode before. Just without as many bones and corpses

6. The Gays Are Back In Town ft. Gay Snotlout, Gay Fishlegs and Gay Viggo

7. "my city now" - Krogan

8. You cannot watch this episode and tell me that Viggo isn't in love with Hiccup

9. Krogan insulted Viggo's hobby and Viggo got mega salty about it

10. Astrid punches a dragon with poisonous scales and almost dies because Save Stormfly Make Anditode™, turns out she did this for no reason whatsoever because Stormfly Wasn't Dying

11. Tuffnut fakes his own death in order to make Ruffnut happy

12. Dagur not-so-casually finding his fathers dead body

13. Rage.

Race to the Edge S6:

1. My blood has never boiled so hard as it did watching this episode

2. Stoick gets played like a cheap kazzoo and regresses back to how he acted in HTTYD 1 out of sheer stress

3. THIS SHOW LOVES TO FORCE ROMANCES, DOESN'T IT?

4. Fishlegs can't believe that his ancestors were Dragon Hunters as if he wasn't once enrolled in Dragon Killing School

5. Nothing solves a sibling rivalry like teaming up to kill the annoying cousin

6. THIS EPISODE GOT AGE RESTRICTED ON NETFLIX BECAUSE ASTRID SHOOK HER TITS AT HICCUP AND DAGUR AND MALA HAVE A MUTUAL PAIN KINK

7. The twins are just. So ride or die for each other it's not even funny.

8. Viggo confesses his love for Hiccup and then fucking dies for real this time (Viggo fans start sobbing as The Winner Takes It All by ABBA starts playing in the distance)

9. Snotlout writes a book

10. What if the gang had never left Berk? What if Hiccup never shot down Toothless at the start of HTTYD 1? What if Spitelout actually loved his son?

11. Protecting an island filled with a bunch of dead dragons

12. The satisfied smirk on my face knowing what the characters don't

13. The most satisfying death in the history of mankind.

HTTYD 2:

Way to straight up ruin Hiccup's life, am I right?

HTTYD 3:

Ruining every character and spitting in the face of all that I love

Homecoming:

20 minutes of my life that I'll never get back

Snoggletog Log:

Half an hour of a fireplace and the wrong voice actors. This shit plays like a DVD menu.

#httyd #riders of berk #defenders of berk #race to the edge #httyd 2 #httyd 3 #long post #vigcup

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