#I cling to my hand function with desperation

[vaguely-concerned]

to be distressingly earnest for a moment, I cannot applaud sylvia feketekuty enough for how incredibly well she balances comedy and actual emotional impact in emmrich's storyline. it's such a fine line to walk as a writer, and she does it perfectly to my mind. johanna hezenkoss is a wonderfully cartoonish heightened comedy character whose literal stated goal is world domination by means of necromancy and also this giant skeleton mecha monster I built. her main redeeming quality is that she's SO entertaining and perfectly unrepentantly herself at every turn and never ever does she grow anything we might readily recognize as a conscience; she may be a monster but in such a marvellous way you simply cannot begrudge her for it. we are going full tilt into the yzma zone here and never looking back. and yet! emmrich's reactions to her, and the lingering emotional fallout of their friendship ending clinging to everything, are very real and grounded and genuine, and her functionality in the narrative rock solid. it's still funny the whole way through, but also weirdly poignant.

she is a blunt archetype, but her presence causes nuance in other places. it tests emmrich's inherent kindness to show some of the flaws running through it. it shows quirks in his character you couldn't get at otherwise, exposes what the lines of temptation can get their hooks in him even in all his genuine basic well-meaningness way before the lich storyline gets fully unveiled -- that there is something in him that was drawn to her ambition and unceasing intellectual exploration of the world, even when it edged up on ruthless; that it was only when the line was openly crossed he put his foot down for good. it exposes the darker side of nevarra's political life, especially the mortalitasi -- that it would only take a handful of them forsaking their oaths and morals and deciding that ruling from behind the throne isn't enough. in the words of emmrich, how easily it would make them a new tevinter, except with a skeleton army so arguably much more metal. the slope is slippery. watch where you put your feet, watcher.

and johanna's cheerful and unrepentant spider verse doc ock supervillain antics are emblematic of the way that aside from anything else, this storyline is also -- and I must return to it once more, one cannot emphasize this enough -- so so SO entertaining about it along the way. it sets the tone in that it's campy and over the top and hilarious... a levity you really do need to bring to emmrich's arc, revolving as it does around *checks notes scribbled on hand* ah. the desperate crippling all-consuming terror of death. like um. yes. you need some liberal spoonfuls of comedic relief to make that particular theme palatable enough to get through and process, and providing that feels like both a very kind, a very intelligent, and very wise thing to do as a writer. and also ties in so perfectly with the whole thematic structure and conclusion -- the message that perhaps you will always be afraid of this thing. maybe that fear of cessation, of irretrievable loss, will be with you forever. but there is kindness and connection and fascinating things to discover in this world to make it bearable. it's all very elegantly done and I admire it deeply on a craft level as much as I appreciate getting to engage with it as a player. a masterful balancing act of tone. thank you for coming to my ted talk and goodbye

[cassandralexxx]

yknow I suppose I truly was delusional

I kept being like I’ll know in (count down of 5 years) whether my condition is monocyclic, chronic/polycyclic. Bc all the literature I had read mentioned 5 years as the bench mark of when it’s like certain for the most part. I had such high hopes I’d be lucky. I hadn’t really considered that since my condition acts in a refractory manner (when getting off medications it comes back) that implies that I’m part of the majority.

im in the 2/3 of the population of people with my condition who don’t ✨get better ✨ and I will probably have to deal with medical treatment for the rest of my life.

it sucks yknow I have so many plans, Had so many plans. To hear that it really is only downhill from here (even if not explicitly said) is painful. It’s disappointing

I often imagine who I would have been had I not gotten sick. And I can only think that I would have been Better. Better than I am now, still following my life plan I had so carefully crafted at 14, 16, 17 years old. My plan for the future that I kept charting along when I was 18 and beginning to be sick. All of my choices carefully selected in view of the future, My future. I like my life I truly do. But I will always live in what ifs, picturing a past and future where I am who I always strove to be.

if you showed me two years ago how i would be living now (my uncertainty for the future, my struggles). I don’t think I would have recognized myself. Not even just my mentality and progress being changed but also my actual appearance sometimes I hear someone use a descriptor for my appearance and I’m caught off guard because a year and a half ago I was different.

people often write about change and u agree it’s hard to accept and realize change when it is thrust upon you not as a choice but as reality.

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

I’ll Take Care Of You

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: sick Lando, smut

You weren't supposed to show up at the Las Vegas GP because you had your own business commitments, but knowing the state Lando was in, you decided to drop everything and come with him. You knew he needed you there and there wasn't a second of doubt in your mind whether or not to go with him when you saw how sick he really was.

After Brazil, Lando was not feeling well mentally. He couldn't sleep, he wouldn't eat or drink, his mood was at zero and all of this affected his immune system which resulted in him falling ill just before the Vegas GP.

Your heart ached seeing him like this because you knew there was nothing you could do except be there for him until he got through it. The only good thing about all of this was taking the pressure of being a world champion off his shoulders until next season at least.

Before the Vegas race, Lando could barely function, to be honest. His nose was blocked, his head was pounding, and he could barely hear in one ear.

As you closely followed the race in the garage, it no longer mattered to you which place he would take, you just prayed that he would finish the race safely and successfully so you can get him out of there.

So once the race was finally over, you were relieved, and so was he. When he got out of the car and took his helmet and balaclava off his head, he immediately looked for you with his eyes.

"Baby.." You looked at him sadly, approaching him and extending your arms towards him. "Are you alright?"

"Hey, love" His head fell onto your shoulder as he buried his face in your neck, pulling you closer to him. "I feel so sick" He sighed quietly and you immediately put your palm against his forehead to check his temperature.

"Lan, you're burning"

He was exhausted, so tired he could barely keep his eyes open and head up. He desperately needed to rest and all you wanted was to get out of there as soon as possible.

"Go get changed and we're going to the hotel, okay?" You tell him.

"No, I don't wanna go to the hotel, I wanna go home." He says.

"Lan, you can't get on a plane like this. You need to get some rest first and then we're gonna go home"

"No, please baby, I just wanna go to our home, please. I really need it. I know I'll feel better as soon as we get home." He whines. You sigh for a moment just looking at him as you ponder if this really is a smart decision. "Please" His eyes plead and you finally agree.

He was clinging to you the entire flight, holding his head in your lap and trying to sleep. He still had a fever so you improvised compresses to put over his forehead.

Lando wasn't sick often, but once in a while when he caught a cold, it would wipe him out. It was the same this time. He was bedridden for a week, and you were there every day taking care of him. He wasn't even exaggerating, he was really sick and you were worried he would get dehydrated or his condition would get worse. You even wanted to take him to the emergency room, but he promised he was fine and just needed you by his side.

Once he finally felt well enough to get out of bed and go further than the bathroom, you felt a pair of arms hug you around your waist as you prepared lunch in the kitchen.

"Hey, baby" Your eyes lit up when you saw him.

"Hey" He smiled nuzzling his head into your neck and leaving a kiss.

"Are you feeling any better?" You asked.

"Mhm. My throat is still a little sore, but I feel much better." He says in a hoarse voice.

"Well, good then." You rise on your tiptoes to leave a kiss on his cheek. "You have no idea how happy that makes me. You really got me worried."

"Thank you for taking care of me" He smiles putting your face between his hands.

"You don't need to thank me for that. I enjoy doing it."

"I know, but that's my job - to take care of you and me."

"You know how they say, 'in sickness and in health'." You both laugh considering you're not even engaged yet, let alone married even though people around you keep asking you about it all the time.

"Do I hear the wedding bells?" Lando asks.

"I don't know, do you?"

"I think I do." He smirks biting his lip before pressing his lips against yours knowing it's only a matter of time before he proposes to you.

Although he felt better physically, he still hadn't mentally recovered from the 'defeat', even though he didn't want to admit it. But it gave him away when you looked for him on his side of the bed in your sleep and couldn't find him.

You squinted at your phone to see what time it was and when it showed 2 a.m. you found it strange that he wasn't there because he usually sleeps all night.

You headed straight for the living room where you found him on the couch in front of the TV. He was lying down in his boxers, watching TV, but his gaze was thoughtful and you knew something was bothering him.

"Lan?"

"Baby, what are you doing awake?" He asks extending his arm for you to lie down next to him.

"I have the same question for you." You say taking a place next to him and leaning your head against his chest.

"Couldn't sleep, I was tossing and turning the whole time. I got up so I wouldn't wake you up."

"And why couldn't you sleep?" You ask, but he stays silent. "Baby, what's bothering you? Talk to me, please."

"You already know what it is" He sighs tracing his fingers over your shoulder. "But I don't wanna talk about it anymore. I really don't, I just need to get through it."

"Is there anything I can do about it?"

"You're here with me. That's all I need." He says placing a kiss to your forehead.

But you were determined to do something, anything, to make him feel at least a little better. And what's better than satisfying him to relieve him of frustration and tension.

Besides, it's been over two weeks since the last time you fucked. You'd be lying if you said you didn't need him in the same way and you thought tonight was the perfect opportunity for both of you so you straddled him and started kissing him gently.

He gave in to the kiss, not yet realizing what you were up to. It was only when you slowly started grinding your hips against him that he smiled into the kiss.

"What's on your mind, baby?" He asked gripping your hips.

"Just wanna make you feel better" You said moving your lips to his neck. He moaned throwing his head back and you felt him starting to get hard underneath you.

You soon positioned yourself between his legs and pulled his boxers down. He quickly got rid of them, throwing them aside, and you began to kiss him around his length.

"Wanna please you" You said between kisses.

He took his cock in his hand and tapped it against your lips. You stuck out your tongue and licked his tip making him groan in response. You teased him by slowly licking him up and down and he was starting to get impatient.

"Baby, please" He whispered stroking himself against your lips.

"Please, what, Lan?" You asked innocently, stopping his hand and cupping his balls.

"Put it in your mouth"

His breath catches as your lips finally wrap around his cock. He collects your hair into a ponytail and tilts his head to get a better look at you taking him all the way in.

You keep taking him deeper and deeper until his tip hit the back of your throat and you gag around him.

"Oh fuck.." He moans while his fingers keep raking and twirling in your hair. Your hand soon replaces your mouth as you spit on his tip and stroke him up and down. You don't want him to cum this way, you want him to cum inside you and you know he's close so you straddle him again guiding his cock to your entrance.

"Fuck, baby, fuck" His hands are pulling your night dress up to reveal your ass and grab it. He lets out a low groan as you slowly sink down on him. Leaning back, he shifts his hips up to adjust how he's sitting.

"You feel so good, so big inside of me" You whine as your rock your hips back and forth.

"Yeah?" His eyes are stuck on you as he grips your hips tighter and presses his lips against your neck.

"Stretching me out so good, Lan, shit" You make special effort to compliment him tonight as you keep on riding him quickening your pace.

He grips your ass tighter pulling you down harder on him. His breath is ragged in your ear and it makes you take him deeper and harder needing him to lose control. And you know what's coming next when you feel him twitch inside you.

"I'm cumming" He chokes out triggering your own orgasm. You clench around him as he fills you up biting his teeth into your skin.

He hugged you tightly, kissing your forehead while you lay leaning against his chest, barely catching your breath from the sweet release you both needed so desperately.

"I love you" He whispers. "I love you more than anything"

[muletia]

my brain is literally fried because I’ve been sick with the flu for a few days, but I had to get this off my chest

as it turns out, tormenting your favorite scrimblos to make them feel even worse than you do has surprisingly therapeutic properties lmao

Thinking about obsessed!Optimus being utterly devastated by his own feelings. Withering away from love for you because it no longer allows him to function normally. About attempts at recharge that fail because your silhouette always flickers before his optics. About dreams that are always about you. About the way you constantly fill his processor. About his silent cries in your direction, begging you to free him from this hell, to accept all his flaws, perhaps even overlook them, so he could finally take a full, unburdened breath of relief, knowing he no longer has to suffer from loneliness.

But also about the boundless love he feels for you. About how much he would be willing to sacrifice to make you happy, even if it comes at the cost of his own well-being. About how he would offer you his spark on a silver platter, ripping it out with his bare servo, if you expressed the slightest desire to see it, asking for nothing in return—only to then ask if there’s anything else you might wish for. About how, for your happiness, he would spill hectoliters of his energon just to see the faintest hint of a smile on your face.

About how he would rather let himself be devoured alive by scraplets than cause you the slightest discomfort. How he would rather rust away than bring you pain. He tightens the chain wrapped around his own neck, struggling to protect you from himself and his wretched, impure feelings. Delirious. Haunted. Unworthy. And yet, still so full of love. Needing you more than energon itself, ready to give up everything for you.

About how you have complete control over his life, and yet he will never be able to tell you that. About his trembling frame when he hasn’t seen you in too long. About the incompetence he exhibits when you disappear from his life for even a few days. About the vacant look in his optics, the lack of reaction to anyone’s calls. About the frequent patrols, hoping to catch even the faintest glimpse of you. About the thousands of tears he sheds as his entire being howls with yearning, even though he can’t help himself.

He is indisputably and unconditionally devoted to you alone. Yours and only yours, even though you will likely never be his. Loyal as a dog, returning to you every time, seeking solace. Trapped in a cycle of madness, condemned to eternal torment no matter how sweet the suffering born from you might be. Consumed by love, love that has sunk its teeth into his metal and will never let go. Beautiful but merciless. Addictive and terrifying, yet sweet all the same.

Because despite the agony, the slow destruction of both body and soul, Optimus cannot give up your conversations, your shared drives and patrols. He cannot stop loving you, completely blinded by devotion, desperately clinging to the scraps of kindness you show him when your eyes meet.

Lost, certain that his love for you will ultimately kill him, yet still humble — for death by your hand would be the greatest honor he could ever receive.

[sh1-n0bu]

Can't stop thinking about domming Calcharo

Idk for some reason I see him as breedable-

RAAAGHHH CALCHARO ASKS YEAAHHHHH🔥🔥 its actually super funny cuz ill be going “oh my cutie patootie🫶” “my shy princess🎀” “my wittle baby🥰” and then hes just there, murdering enemies in the background like “STRIKE👹SHIMMER👹unleash the fangs😡whos the prey now?”

service sub. you cannot tell me otherwise. brat? spoiled? nuh-uh. poor man never felt an ounce of normalcy in his life and his job is literally to serve to people who pays him, he’s a service sub

not exactly big on kinks or toys, i think. really likes soft and vanilla sex most of the times in private, in the comfort of your shared home where he can be vulnerable. but if he’s really feeling like it and too damn horny to function, he’ll indulge in the occasional handjob or blowjob behind a stacks of crates or walls

not exactly loud but not exactly dead silent either. not a full blown moaner, but he whines and whimpers so sweetly. likes to hug you or stay close to you so you can hear how quickly he’s turning into a putty in your hand while his hands desperately cling to your biceps or forearms for a little bit of grounding

won’t do anything without your permission, really. you wanna try something? sure. chastity cages? a ring around his cock? or even a vibrator you wanna shove up his hole while he tries to maintain composure? he’s all in for it. just please don’t torture him for too long, he might just lose his facade in the wrong place. would whine and apologize if he cums too quickly or without asking for your permission. weak knees ready to buckle beneath him while he whimpers out how sorry he is for cumming without your permission

he’s so cute :((

really loves markings, me thinks. scratching is fine but he really really really loves bitemarks. on him? on you? doesn’t matter. do whatever you want to him and he’ll take it like a good boy. don’t worry of his men seeing the marks, his clothes will cover him plenty, just hurry up and sink your fangs into his flesh, mark him as yours

might be into some predator/prey thing because of his voicelines,,,,,, and some size difference kink. he’s a big, intimidating guy so the thought of his lover being smaller than him even by a single inch and still being able to catch him or rat him out from hiding gets his pants feeling a little bit tighter. it doesn’t even have to completely sexual all the time too! just brush against him when reaching for something in the fridge, a hand over his waist when moving past him in a small space, guide him to give you some space with a hand on his lower back while you walk past him — and calcharo’s already thinking of how you could use those hand placements to fuck him dumb for the rest of the day

big nose, big dick!! and he really lives up to it. just like his body type, his cock is a bit on the fatter side i think. just a teensy bit thicker all around with a very cute sensitive tip. be sure to suck on his sensitive tip to get your puppy whining about how his mind is melting at record speed! he’ll be thrashing his legs and shaking his head, saying he can’t cum again but he refuses to safe word or push your head away. too bad calcharo, you’ll be crying in no time soon

hips mmmgghhhh… his hips are so squeeze-able when fucking him from behind. push him into a doggy style with his chest down against the bed, ass perched up for you to fuck his puckering hole. or just push him flat down against the mattress while you roughly fuck into him from behind while your hands leave bruises on his hips. he’ll whine about his cock being neglected as the poor thing weeps precum on the sheets, squished between his body and the material of the beddings with no mercy to touch himself. just slap his ass or squeeze his hips and he’ll learn to be a good boy again

also might be into some light pet play or simply being collared and leashed. y’know with the whole hound thing and stuff. leash him up and put him into a mating press and he’s whimpering and throwing his head back like the cute pup he is. will try to deny it, saying things like “n-not a… p-pu—uunngh haah aah annhcg puppy! not a puppy..!” with a shake of his head. just coo out that he does sound like one and he’s voice is sounding a bit higher as he whimpers loudly

idk why but i just have a feeling that he’ll be into sounding… idk whyyyyy okay?? it just,,, seems like something he would be into. has the fastest reactions and dry orgasms when his dick is all plugged up while your hand slowly jerks off his cock. you don’t even have to tease him and he’s already asking for a permission to cum

[poeticallyspiteful]

Hi hi can you do a Luke x reader fic where Luke falls in love with a human reader like one day he had to go out from camp and sees her and it’s like love at first sight and so some days he visits her but then disappears for like what seems like months and reader gets tired of it cause she feels like she barely knows anything about him and confronts him abt it but he doesn’t know what to say cause he can’t tell her he’s a Demi god?? Can you make it super angsty and you can decide how it ends sorry if this was confusing🙈🙈

soulmates, right?

luke castellan x reader

angst

summary: you and luke are supposed to be soulmates, but for demigods, good things can never last— or live.

cw: sad ending, kinda graphic descriptors, vomit, mentions of unintentional self harm?? (scratching and bruising in one’s sleep), so much angst dude

notes: so i went MIA and left this in my drafts cause i thought it was bad but i guess it’s not actually that bad. enjoy 💗

“i don’t think we should see each other anymore.”

luke’s heart stopped— stopped beating, stopped pumping blood, stopped keeping the rest of his organs functioning as he felt himself shut down.

“w-what?” he stammered, clambering towards his girlfriend, his love, his everything, on a hardly working pair shaking legs.

she sat— beautifully, might he add— on the edge of the cliff where he’d first met her and she looked just as perfect as she did back then.

wild flowers gathered around her, so carefully and which such individual purpose that if he didn’t know better, he’d think she was a daughter of demeter herself.

as much as he hated being a half blood, he found himself wishing she somehow, secretly was.

that would make everything so much easier.

“you’re hiding things from me.” she didn’t even seem fazed yet every word you said, every second she spent looking out at the forest instead of at him, was like a knife to the gut. “you haven’t been honest with me, luke, and i don’t like liars.”

luke felt his jaw creak from the way it hung on its hinges, and he found his knees finally giving in as he sunk to the ground just behind her.

“no, no, no, i’m sorry,” he whispered, resisting the urge to reach out and touch her hand. “please, darling, you have to believe me. i’ve never wanted to keep anything from you, i don’t have a choice.”

because how could he ever explain it?

she’d think he was insane.

son of hermes.

greek gods and monsters and dead girls turned into trees.

she’d think he was absolutely out of his mind.

she laughed softly, shaking her head. “i really, really wish i believed you.”

she pulled yourself up off the ground on slow and steady feel and before he could think about it, luke was wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her back towards him like a life raft in a stormy sea. he sat on his knees, cheek pressed against the soft flesh of her stomach, his tears slowly bleeding into her shirt.

“i’m sorry, i’m so, so sorry,” he whispered, clinging to her for dear life because for all he knew, this was the last time he’d ever see her. the last time he’d get to touch her or hold her or hear her voice.

but that wasn’t right. no, she was his soulmate, and weren’t soulmates supposed to stay together forever?

“luke, please let me go.”

he felt his gut wrench, like something was trying to crawl out of him, and he choked on a sob.

“please, i’m so sorry,” he begged, holding onto her tighter as he felt her shift. he knew he should let her go— that it was her choice and that he deserved this— but he couldn’t help but hold on just a moment longer.

he wanted to memorize the way she felt too soft and pure for the world, the way she smelled, like honey and fruit. he wanted to memorize every part of she before he lost it all.

“luke—”

“i love you,” he blurted out, finally looking up and trying desperately to find her gaze. “i know i am so wrong to keep things from you and i’m sorry, i’m so sorry, but i love you more than i’ve ever loved anything and i can’t just let you go.”

when she fell silent, it almost gave luke hope— that was until he felt her hands firm on his shoulders, pushing him firmly, yet carefully, off of her.

“i’m sorry, luke, but i can’t see you anymore.”

luke didn’t leave his cabin for three weeks after that lovely afternoon, when she ripped his heart right out of his chest and threw it off that cliff.

he sat on the cliffside until the sunset, and he cried and cried and cried until the sky started crying back at him, pelting rain drops mixing with the tears. it was almost cinematic— something he might have appreciated if he wasn’t so broken.

he felt a pain in his chest that he’d never experienced before, and while he had to assume is was from the gaping hole she’d left behind after her sudden departure, it was unlike anything he’d ever imagined before.

finally, with swollen eyes and a soar throat, he stumbled back to camp half blood and into the hermes cabin. he fell into his bed and laid there, motionless, until the morning came.

over the next three weeks, he only got up to use the bathroom, choke down some food, or to give chris a short explanation of his behavior.

“there’s a mortal girl,” he muttered, struggling to swallow a bite of porridge. “i love her— she left me— and i’m here.”

chris sympathized with his brother, but he learned very quickly that luke did not want to talk about her.

so he didn’t.

until a month later.

“luke, buddy— i have to tell you something,” christ said lowly, looking oddly grey for such a nice day.

luke hummed, absentmindedly folding laundry, seeming completely devoid of life.

“they— uh— they found a mortal girl in the woods this morning,” chris whispered, approaching him slowly from behind like a rabid animal he was scared to startle for fear of being attacked. “they said she must have been sneaking around the camp’s border and some sort of monster got her.”

lukes hands stopped, the orange camp shirt sitting limply in his hands.

“no,” he replied, sternly, refusing to glance up at his brother. he just stared at the shirt, burning holes in the fabric with his eyes, like maybe if he burnt the shirt it would burn the half blood out of him too. “that’s—that’s impossible, why would a mortal girl be snooping around that close to camp?”

he knew why. of course he knew why, he just didn’t want to say it.

“she… she had something in her hand,” chris choked out, reaching out with a shaking fist, and dropping something in lukes lap.

if luke thought he’d given up before, that was nothing compared to what he felt when his camp necklace, which he’d given to you 9 months prior, fell back into his possession with a rattle.

he couldn’t even check to see if those spots were dirt or dried blood before he felt his vision growing fuzzy, and suddenly, he was scrambling off of his bed and to the nearest trash can.

he hurled up the breakfast he’d barely even eaten, but his body kept trying to reject something that was inside of him. he thought he might actually puke up his guts.

you were trying to find him.

you must’ve followed him.

right to the camp.

right to your death.

it was all his fault.

“luke, you have to breath.” it was chris at his shoulder, wrapping a strong arm around his middle to pull him back to the bed. luke didn’t even realize he’d been crying until he saw chris grabbing the tissues and sitting down across from him on the bed.

“she can’t— it can’t be her,” luke whispered, glancing between chris and the bloodied necklace. “she can’t be gone, chris. she can’t— she— i love her, she can’t leave me.”

chris bit his tongue so hard he thought it would bleed; he couldn’t tell him. he couldn’t look his brother in the eye and tell him a truth that would result in an unraveling that would never end.

he couldn’t bare the news that left luke a torn up heap of flesh and bone with no heart or soul.

he couldn’t bring down his brothers world with just a few words about a girl that he had never even met alive, that he couldn’t ever grieve the way luke undoubtedly will.

he couldn’t.

but he did.

“she’s gone, luke.”

another month later, luke started having strange dreams.

for the longest time after her death, luke had nightmares about the monster that killed her; they said it was difficult to say, since her body was mangled and worn by the elements, so his mind just made up a new one every time.

a minotaur.

a fury.

a hellhound.

a harpy.

his father— that one had some kick to it.

every night was another rerun of her death.

the only part that was never rewritten was that luke was watching, helpless at the sidelines, unable to save her. he screamed, he cried, fought so hard against invisible restraints that he’d wake up with scratches and bruisers from head to toe, but it never changed.

you died, he watched, and he woke up.

that was, until, one night when a deep voice broke through her screams and his cries, and the forest disappeared in a sea of darkness.

there was only him.

and that deep, looming voice.

[l0stglitch]

Platonic yandere lost boys headcannons

Notes- This was supposed to be general headcannons but then I started leaning into the darker side of the dynamics more, so now it’s more focused on the relationships between reader and the boys.

Warnings- Emotional manipulation, Psychosis, Non consensual drug use, Yandere behaviour, Murder

Dwayne

• You mean the absolute world to Dwayne.

• Seriously- every waking thought is spent on you. You’re like a drug that he can’t function without.

• Sometimes the others joke that he has separation anxiety (he 100% does).

• He loves listening to you speak. Often you’ll both lie down on your bed and stare up at the ceiling. You’ll tell him about your day through the rose-tinted lenses of childhood, and he’ll listen. He listens with an interest that you have never been regarded with before. It makes you feel special.

• The two of you go down to the skatepark together every now and again and your dad teaches you how to skate.

• You’d never tell the others, but those are your favourite nights. When it’s just you and Dwayne out at night practicing tricks under the solitary streetlight.

• It’s usually empty, but when there is anyone else there Dwayne warns you of how dangerous they could be.

• He doesn’t mean to scare you, but sometimes the only way you’ll follow the rules is by telling you every other man out there is out to get you.

• His warnings made you paranoid and untrusting of everyone for a while.

• It eventually got so bad that you had a psychotic episode- locking yourself in your room for days because you believed that your fathers wanted to harm you.

• Eventually they broke down your door to find you starving and severely dehydrated, having spent days completely devoid of food and water.

• You were too weak to even fight back when they scooped you up and carried you out your room.

• Dwayne was in hysterics.

• He didn’t leave your side for the rest of the week, and made sure to hand feed you all your meals.

• You protested, but he was relentless.

• He almost made you feel like it was your fault. Acting so hurt that you would take such little care for yourself. Do you really hate them that much? Why don’t you trust them after everything they’ve done for you?

• Days later, you found yourself crying in his arms, begging for forgiveness. Through desperate sobs you sputtered out apology after apology, clinging to his leather jacket.

• Seeing you so needy for him- so desperate for his love almost made it all worth it.

• He just ran his fingers through your hair like you were a scared animal, trying to get you to calm down.

• That’s how disputes between you and your father almost always end. With you begging for his forgiveness for something you know deep down wasn’t your fault.

• After your breakdowns, you often sit alone in your room wondering how you let the same thing happen every time. You’ve always had a soft spot for Dwayne, but sometimes you wonder if his powers have more uses than you thought.

• All those times you’ve awoken from a horrifyingly realistic nightmare, or felt a piercing sense of dread at the thought of sneaking out, a tiny fear itches in the back of your brain.

• Are your thoughts actually yours?

Marko

• Marko 100% plays with you the most.

• He’s just naturally more energetic than the others (which often leads him to getting into fights).

• But when he’s not scrapping with surf nazis, he spends the rest of his time practically worshipping you.

• Sometimes when it’s just the two of you, you’ll stop by a playground to play for a bit.

• He’d never admit it to anyone, but sometimes he gets jealous seeing you play with the kids there.

• I feel like Marko is a very creative person (I mean cmon look at his jacket). One of my personal hcs is that he painted the leopard on Dwayne’s jacket.

• He’d definitely buy (or steal) a jacket for you just so he can customise it. He also sees it as a way of showing that you belong to them.

• You’d sit next to him on the couch, sketching out every little detail you want whilst he listens, hanging onto your every word.

• Despite his need to show everyone you are theirs, he also genuinely loves making things for you.

• He made a bracelet for you to match the one Dwayne stole when you first met.

• Out of everyone he’s the most possessive.

• Sometimes, depending on his mood, he’ll ban you from speaking to anyone other than them (even Max). Other times he’ll outright stop you from going to the boardwalk with them. He’d stay with you in the cave whilst the other three go out to hunt.

• It worked when you were younger and more obedient, however during your teen years you grew to be a lot more rebellious.

• Marko absolutely HATES the thought of you growing up. He doesn’t know what kind of a person you’ll be in the future, and that scares him.

• That and the fact that he knows you’ll inevitably want to start dating.

• He’s kind of in denial about the whole growing up thing.

• Unfortunately when you do become a teenager he literally can’t cope. He refuses to believe you are able to take care of yourself and will baby you.

• On multiple occasions you have lashed out at him for the way he treats you, sick of how he refuses to accept the fact that you have a functional brain and can think for yourself.

• Unfortunately Marko has a particularly short temper. He has, on multiple occasions, accidentally shoved you into a cabinet in the heat of an argument, and left you with dark, angry bruises.

• And then comes the guilt tripping. Sometimes you’d wonder if he secretly likes it when you get hurt because of how happy he always looks when he gets to take care of you.

• You’re father’s mood can switch up in a matter of seconds. Sometimes it feels like you’re walking on eggshells around him, afraid that the slightest mistake will set him off.

• Usually Dwayne or Paul are around to tell him to chill out, but when you’re alone you just have to play along with his delusions of you still being his little girl to avoid conflict.

• It’s hard though, especially when he suddenly brings up a new rule to ‘keep you safe’. It’s practically impossible to keep Marko happy, and with every new rule, you know it’s only a matter of time until you break it (intentionally or not).

• He would never admit it, even to himself, but part of him secretly enjoys it when you break the rules. He likes hearing your heart pounding loudly from your chest, betraying the unbothered scowl on your face.

• It reminds him that no matter how grown up you look on the outside, you’ll always just be that timid little girl they found by the carousel. Helpless and in need of her fathers.

Paul

• He doesn’t mean to be, but Paul is definitely the dad that lets you get away with anything.

• Poor guy doesn’t really know how to act around kids, so he ends up either being a bit awkward around you or just treating you like a mini adult.

• As a result, you don’t really fear him as much as you do the others, but you also don’t see him as reliable as they are.

• You know Dwayne will always be there for you. Paul though? Half the time he’s too high to even tell you what day of the week it is.

• He feels guilty about it. Really guilty. He loves you just as much as the others do, but he just doesn’t know how to show it, so he lets you get away with things.

• Oh- you want a chocolate bar for breakfast? Sure, so long as you don’t tell Dwayne.

• You wanna try his cigarette? Ok, but make sure David doesn’t find out.

• At first it’s great. You love getting to hang out with Paul because of the little secrets you share. He gets high and you get to do what you want.

• It isn’t until you start to grow up, and he begins to enjoy your company more that his behaviour starts changing.

• Out of everyone, Paul (ironically) knows the most of your secrets.

• He’s just so much easier to talk to than the others- and whilst he doesn’t always give you particularly good advice on how to deal with certain situations, you can appreciate him for listening.

• Your trust in him backfires though, as he realises he can use your secrets against you.

• He literally blackmails you into spending more time with him. You don’t wanna hang out? That’s fine- but be prepared to have a stern telling off from David after Paul found a bag of weed under your bed.

• You picked up most of your bad habits from your father. Getting black out drunk and stealing cigarettes with your small group of friends, for example.

• Compared to the others, he isn’t very controlling in terms of rules. He knows that telling you what to do directly will only make you rebel, so instead he takes a slightly different approach.

• He drugs you.

• It took years for you to finally realise why you would sometimes sleep for such long amounts of time, despite not feeling tired beforehand.

• Eventually you connected the dots, and came to the sickening realisation that he would put crushed sleeping pills in your food every time you mentioned wanting to go out with your friends.

• After confronting your fathers about it, you refused to eat any food they had prepared for you. This lasted a while, until you ran out of money and were no longer able to afford cheap takeaways.

• It becomes a lot harder for Paul to drug you after that, however every now and again he manages to slip you a sedative.

• You absolutely hate it.

• You hate feeling completely helpless. Mind dull and emotions muffled by the effects of the drug. Even your body feels heavy, and you find that you only have enough energy to lay in Paul’s embrace, waiting to fall asleep.

David

• Ok let’s be real David is definitely the most distant father out everyone.

• After all, he has a reputation to uphold (and he’s scared of completely fucking up as a dad).

• He prefers spending time with you inside the cave rather than going out to the boardwalk.

• He uses excuses similar to Dwayne- telling you how dangerous it is, but unlike Dwayne he doesn’t actually believe what he’s telling you.

• David knows that it’s very unlikely that anything will happen to you. You’re hardly ever by yourself, so the chances of someone actually managing to hurt you are slim- especially with four overprotective vampire fathers lurking nearby.

• The real reason is that it makes him feel less in control. He can’t decide who you’re friends with, or who talks to you when you do occasionally manage to sneak away from them.

• Your biological family is gone. But who’s to say there isn’t someone out there looking for you still? David can’t help the everlasting paranoia from seeping into his every thought.

• So for peace of mind, he sets rules and curfews. Anything that will ease his worries.

• Practically every minute of your life is dictated by David. He thrives off of controlling you.

• Each and every rule and punishment goes through him first. He’s essentially the backbone of the pack.

• You resent him for it. You hate the way he encourages the others, and how he speaks down at you so condescendingly.

• Your relationship wasn’t always so strained though.

• As a kid you completely idolised David. His hair, his bike, his music. You were like his shadow. Constantly trailing behind him, grasping onto his signature trench coat.

• He loved every minute of it. Your father would spoil you. He’d steal little gifts at every opportunity, and buy you posters and t shirts of all the bands he had gotten you into.

• Unfortunately, as you got older you made friends outside the pack. You developed new interests, and David felt threatened.

• After all, you’re supposed to their little girl. You were supposed to grow up and stay with your fathers- your pack. Not branch out and meet new people.

• So in response, David killed one of your friends.

• One of the boys in your group who he thought you were becoming dangerously close to.

• Of course, you didn’t know David was the reason he had gone missing, so when you broke down in tears, feeling terrified for your friend, David was there to hold you.

• The way he gently rubbed your back and soothingly whispered into your ear almost made you forget about the disappearance of one of your closest friends.

• That brief moment of bliss bringing you back to your childhood as you sought comfort in your father’s tender embrace.

• David could only pray that you would remain ignorant to the truth about your dearly departed friend.

Tag list- @bella-goths-wife (lmk if anyone else wants to be added)

[xesiarah]

𓏵 Yan!Loser x Reader (Drabble)

My favorite animal is Lucian when reader tries to leave him 🤫🧏

HIS INTRO FIC >.<

—

—

"A-am I not enough..?" Lucian's voice was whiney, meek, yet with a hint of menace seething through his words. There's something... something uncanny.. seemingly just right beneath the facade of innocence, the beads of tears rolling down his cheeks swiftly, and the glisten of the tip of the knife pressed firmly against his neck under the illuminating light.

"Why, why, why, why.." he mutters under his breath, repeating manically as if trying to think of a reason plausible enough for him, for his delusional, overthinking, — overbearingly possessive brain cells.

"I-i-i.. just love you so much... you can't do this to me... I just can't fucking breathe—" he trails off, his tears blurring his vision as he swore he could feel his legs weaken, like a victorian child seeing that Snapchat dog filter for the first time. — As if the idea of you being able to just walk out the door and leave him to go fend for himself, continuing on with your life without him being able to breath down your neck every second of everyday, just weakens his overall ability to function.

His breathing growis erratic, it's pattern going inconsistent. "I'll die... I'll die without you." The desperation is evident in the flickers of his eyes, a threatening madness, as if daring you. Daring you to walk out that door and leave his sorry ass.

"Okay, dude. What the fuck." You raise both hands in a defensive manner, your sweaty palms facing him. like yk what people do in movies when they get confronted by the FBI. "I was just fucking asking if you wanted chipotle.."

Maybe that 'i can fix him' mentality didn't work, after all. You think you sort of made him worse. "I just didn't want to drag you along, cus' I'll only be out briefly." You explained, your eyebrows knitted together as you took a step closer, it's as if concern, anxiety, was etched onto your face alltogether.. Just how mentally unwell is this motherfucker?

"I wanted to come a-a-along, and you didn't let me... W-what if you were secretly meeting someone else!? What if you—" his complaints, or more like blabber fall upon deaf ears. He didn't acknowledge the fact you were taking baby steps closer, immersed in his will to voice his worries.

Slowly, you managed to take hold of the knife, separating the dangerous weapon from the very dangerous person, regaining a sense of control of the situation as you coo empty praises in an attempt to soothe his shivered timbers, cupping both sides of his cheek and even wiping a few tears away with your thumb. You don't want to fucking die yet, after all.

He doesn't let you tear your gaze away from him as you gently, fucking finally, place the knife down on a nearby coffee table, your attention solely on him. As it should. According to him, I guess. — as soon as you do, he immediately jumps on you, clinging onto you like a lifeline as the suddenly impact causes the both of you to fall to the floor in a loud thud.

"Lucian..?" You question, raising an eyebrow.

He answers with nothing, scarily just doesn't say anything. Anything at all. The silence deafening. The only sound being his ragged breathing, and your own, mingling together. "Don't go." He mumbles after moments of silence, his breath hot against your skin.

He buries himself further into the crook of your neck, inhaling in your scent deeply. "Stay." He spoke once again, his voice now raspy from allat crying.

He snuggles onto you, as if trying to merge into one, single being. Whilst you on the other hand, lay in defeat. He's heavy. Like a damned boulder. What makes it worse is that you're sweating like a bitch and your head is throbbing from the sudden hit to the ground. — fucking hell. Guess you owe him cuddles now.

And, the price of wanting chipotle... 😞

[seoulzie]

범규; whispers of the unsleeping

───── orphic ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 (adj.) mysterious & entrancing; beyond ordinary understanding

synopsis: in the small city of yeosu, insomniac choi beomgyu seeks refuge in his school's abandoned astronomical observatory to catch some sleep. there, he encounters y/n l/n, a sociable and carefree girl who shares his struggle with insomnia. together, they form an unlikely friendship and revive their school's defunct astronomy club, spending their nights exploring the stars.

彡 pairing: beomgyu x f!reader 彡 genre: fluff, angst, strangers to lovers au, university au 彡 warnings: mentions of mental health & insomnia, parental abandonment (?) chronic illness, strong language, grief & loss

RELEASE DATE; 07/26/24 — this week, friday

index: prologue i. sleepless encounters capella ii. a place of our own vega iii. rekindling the stars proxima iv. phases of the moon, phases of us rigel v. cosmic challenge polaris vi. beyond the horizon altair vii. heart to heart betelgeuse viii. tomorrow's sunrise arcturus the end: epilogue

TAGLIST: OPEN! leave an ask in my inbox, reply to this post, or send me a dm!

CHOI BEOMGYU ( 21 ) ( M )

a student who struggles with trouble falling asleep most nights. consequently, he is irritable at school, always searching for an opportunity to find a secluded place to doze off. despite his gruff exterior, he is well-known around campus for his charming looks.

Y/N L/N ( 20 ) ( F )

a cheerful and enthusiastic student, the astronomy club president, whose secret battle with insomnia leads her to the solace of the astronomical conservatory at night. determined to keep her condition hidden, she finds refuge among the stars until she encounters another night owl, beomgyu.

PROLOGUE: CHAPTER 0 word count: 3.1k

another sleepless night. beomgyu stared up at the ceiling of his room, counting the cracks for the hundredth time. it was a game he played with himself when he couldn’t sleep, a futile attempt to trick his brain into shutting down. spoiler alert: it never worked.  he groaned, the sound echoing hollowly in the silent room, and threw an arm over his eyes, trying to block out the faint glow of dawn creeping through the dusty blinds. the alarm clock on his nightstand blinked 6:00 am in angry red numbers, a mocking reminder of the day looming ahead.

with a sigh that condensed the exhaustion clinging to him like a shroud, beomgyu rolled out of bed. every muscle screamed in protest, a dull ache thrumming through his limbs. he shuffled to the bathroom, his movements heavy with sleep deprivation. his reflection in the mirror looked as shitty as he felt—dark circles under his eyes, hair sticking up in every direction, and a permanent scowl etched on his face. he splashed some cold water on his face, hoping it would wake him up enough to function through another hellish day at school.

he reached for his usual blue and white striped tube of toothpaste, but his fingers met only the cold, hard plastic of the sink. panic clawed at his throat. empty. of course, it was empty. why wouldn't it be? just his luck.

frantic, he rummaged through the cabinet under the sink, desperately searching for a spare tube. nothing. nada. just a half-empty bottle of mouthwash that reeked of peppermint and disappointment. he slammed the cabinet shut, the sound echoing through the small bathroom like a gunshot. “fucking hell.”

defeated, beomgyu straightened up, bracing himself for another blow. he hobbled over to his laundry basket, a tangled mess of unmentionables. he started digging, desperately searching for a matching pair of socks. hope flickered when his fingers brushed against soft cotton, then died a slow, agonizing death as he pulled out a lone, navy blue sock. where was its partner? had it been swallowed by a rogue dryer gremlin? eaten by a sock-hungry monster lurking in the washing machine?

beomgyu stared at the single sock in his hand, a monument to his perpetually bad luck. he was starting to think the universe had a personal vendetta against him. this wasn't just another day; it was a full-blown disaster waiting to happen, and he was just the hapless protagonist caught in the middle.

after throwing on his uniform and grabbing his backpack, he headed downstairs. his dad had already left for work, as usual. the house was eerily silent, a stark contrast to the chaotic mornings of his childhood before—stop it, he thought to himself. beomgyu shook off the unwelcome memories and grabbed a piece of toast on his way out.

he dragged himself to the front door, his feet protesting with each step. a splash of color outside his window caught his eye. mrs. han, his elderly neighbor, was kneeling by her rose bushes, her weathered hands wielding a watering can with surprising vigor. despite his fatigue, a small smile tugged at the corner of beomgyu's lips. mrs. han was a fixture in the neighborhood, a tiny woman with a heart as big as her prized hydrangeas.

"good morning, mrs. han," he managed, his voice rough from disuse.

she looked up, her eyes crinkling at the corners with a smile. "good morning, beomgyu. off to school already? you look a bit pale," she said with a motherly concern that always made him feel a flicker of warmth.

"just a little tired, mrs. han," he replied, offering a weak smile. "those history essays won't write themselves, you know."

mrs. han chuckled. "always busy, that's you. but remember, dear, rest is important too. don't you burn yourself out."

"i'll try my best," he promised, though the words tasted like ashes in his mouth. he knew the truth – sleep was a luxury he couldn't afford.

beomgyu continued his walk, the rising sun painting the sky with streaks of orange and pink. the usual sights and sounds of the morning held a peculiar distance, muffled by the fog in his brain. the bakery across the street, usually a source of enticing aromas, only offered a dull ache in his stomach – a reminder of the breakfast he hadn't bothered with.

as he neared the school gates, the sounds of chatter started to seep in, a rising crescendo of greetings and nervous laughter. he braced himself for the usual barrage of hellos and high-fives, his trademark charm already feeling strained. beomgyu wasn't just tired, he was running on fumes, his charisma a flickering candle in a hurricane of exhaustion.

just as he predicted, a cheerful voice chimed in from beside him. "beomgyu! looking handsome as ever this morning, even at this ungodly hour."

he turned to see yeri, a girl from his class with a smile as bright as her sunflower hair clip. she was notorious for her bubbly personality and her unashamed crush on him. usually, beomgyu would respond with a playful jab or a witty remark, adding to the innocent flirtation. but today, a single word was all he could muster.

"hey," he croaked out, a smile barely flickering across his lips.

yeri's smile faltered slightly. "everything okay? you seem...out of it."

he shrugged, the movement feeling like wading through mud. "just a late night studying." it wasn't a complete lie, but the truth felt too heavy to share.

"well," yeri continued, her voice losing a bit of its usual chirp, "don't let it get you down. math class first thing, right? let's just hope ms. choi isn't in one of her moods."

there was a time when such a comment would have sparked a playful banter, a shared groan about their least favorite teacher. today, beomgyu merely nodded, a hollow feeling settling in his chest.

despite his exhaustion, beomgyu couldn't help but notice the way heads turned in his direction, the whispered greetings, the stolen glances. he was undeniably popular, the school's resident charmer. but the weight of that popularity felt like a suffocating cloak.

a group of guys from the basketball team hollered a greeting, their voices echoing off the lockers. beomgyu offered a weak wave, the movement seeming to drain the last vestiges of his energy. a couple of girls from the dance club giggled as they passed, their eyes lingering on him for a beat too long. all he could do was muster a tired smile, the effort feeling monumental.

he reached his locker, the familiar combination numbers a blur in his sleep-deprived haze. as he shoved his books inside, a hand landed on his shoulder. it was kai, his best friend, his partner in crime (or at least, they were when beomgyu had the energy for crime fighting). kai, unlike beomgyu, was a beacon of energy, his perpetually ruffled brown hair and mischievous grin a constant source of amusement.

"dude, you look like a deflated balloon," kai commented, his voice laced with concern. "another night?"

beomgyu slammed his locker shut with a sigh that spoke volumes. "yeah," he mumbled, leaning against the cold metal for support.

kai's brow furrowed. "seriously, beomgyu. you've been like this for weeks. we talked about this already! you said you’d try anything besides looking like you haven't slept since kindergarten."

beomgyu ran a hand through his hair, a grimace creasing his face for a moment before smoothing out into a tired indifference. "yeah, yeah," he mumbled, more to himself than to kai. "it's whatever at this point."

kai's concern flickered, then died down as he picked up on the subtle shift in beomgyu's demeanor. he knew that tone – the one that said beomgyu was resigned, shutting himself off. pushing wouldn't help.

"alright," kai said, switching gears with the practiced ease, “come on, zombie boy. let's get to class before ms. choi starts discussing the square root of boredom."

the morning dragged on, each class blending into the next in a haze of exhaustion and boredom. beomgyu could barely keep his eyes open, let alone focus on the lectures. 

his first class was math, and he trudged to his seat, slumping down with a heavy sigh. he rummaged through his bag, only to realize he had forgotten his pen.

“hey, taehyun,” he whispered to the boy sitting next to him. “got a pen i can borrow?”

taehyun glanced at him and chuckled softly. “forgot yours again? here.” he handed beomgyu a pen, shaking his head in amusement.

“thanks, man,” beomgyu muttered, trying to muster a grateful smile. he opened his notebook and attempted to take notes, but his eyelids felt like lead weights. the teacher’s voice droned on, a monotonous hum that only made him feel sleepier.

his head began to nod, his vision blurring as he struggled to stay awake. just as he was about to give in to the sweet embrace of sleep, he heard his name being called.

“mr. choi,” the teacher’s voice was sharp and reprimanding. beomgyu jolted awake, blinking rapidly.

“y-yes?” he stammered, sitting up straight.

“care to repeat what i just said?” the teacher asked, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised.

beomgyu’s mind went blank. he hadn’t heard a single word. “uh… something about calculus?” he guessed, hoping he was at least close.

the class snickered, and the teacher sighed in exasperation. “detention, mr. choi. maybe next time you’ll pay attention instead of dozing off in my class.”

beomgyu slumped back in his seat, cursing under his breath. “great. just fucking great,” he thought.

by the time lunch rolled around, beomgyu was ready to collapse. he shuffled towards the cafeteria, his head hanging low. he spotted his friends at their usual table and dragged himself over, the fluorescent lights feeling like a personal attack on his already throbbing head.

"yo, beomgyu!" yeonjun called out, waving him over. "you look like shit, man. rough night?"

beomgyu slumped into a chair, the metal groaning under his weight. a defeated grunt escaped his lips as he slumped his tray onto the table. "yeah," he mumbled, picking at his food with a complete lack of enthusiasm.

soobin, munching on an apple, raised an eyebrow. "again? dude, you really need to see a doctor or something."

beomgyu shrugged, picking at his food without much appetite. "what are they gonna do? prescribe me more useless meds? no thanks."

yeonjun leaned forward, concern etched on his face. "have you tried, like, meditation or something? i heard it can help."

beomgyu rolled his eyes. "yeah, 'cause sitting still and doing nothing is gonna magically cure my insomnia. thanks, but no thanks."

taehyun looked at him, frowning. "you really should try something, man. this can’t be good for you."

beomgyu sighed. "yeah, well, i’ve tried everything. nothing works. now i’ve got detention ‘cause i fell asleep in math."

taehyun winced. "harsh. what are you gonna do?"

"skip it, maybe. find a quiet place to sleep," beomgyu muttered, pushing his tray away.

beomgyu wandered the halls, his mind a jumble of thoughts and exhaustion. the school was a labyrinth of possibilities, each one fraught with its own set of risks and potential rewards. he needed to find the perfect place to nap, somewhere quiet and out of the way where no one would bother him.

places to (possibly) sleep 1) the janitor's closet

the first place that came to mind was the janitor’s closet. beomgyu had passed by it a million times, always noticing how the janitor, mr. lee, would leave it unlocked while he went about his duties. beomgyu headed towards the closet, glancing around to make sure no one was watching. he carefully turned the knob and slipped inside.

the closet was small and dark, filled with cleaning supplies and equipment. the smell of bleach and disinfectant was strong, but beomgyu didn’t care. he saw a small space behind a stack of boxes and decided it would have to do. he crouched down, wedging himself into the cramped space. the floor was cold and hard, but he was desperate for some rest.

he closed his eyes, trying to let the darkness and quiet lull him to sleep. just as he felt himself drifting off, the door creaked open. beomgyu’s eyes snapped open, and he held his breath. mr. lee stood in the doorway, a look of confusion quickly turning to annoyance on his face.

“hey! what are you doing in here?” mr. lee barked.

“shit,” beomgyu muttered under his breath. he scrambled to his feet, his heart pounding. “sorry, i—uh—i got lost?”

mr. lee narrowed his eyes. “out. now.”

beomgyu didn’t need to be told twice. he quickly slipped past the janitor and out into the hallway, feeling his face flush with embarrassment. so much for that.

places to (possibly) sleep 1) janitor’s closet 2) library

next, beomgyu decided to try the library. it was usually quiet, and he figured he might be able to find a secluded corner to catch some z’s. he made his way to the library, the scent of old books hitting him as soon as he stepped inside. the librarian, mrs. tanaka, gave him a stern look over her glasses, but he ignored her and began his search for the perfect spot.

the library was mostly empty, with only a few students scattered around, hunched over their books. beomgyu walked past the rows of shelves, looking for a place where he could hide from prying eyes. he found a spot in the back, behind a tall stack of books on astronomy. it was quiet, and he could hear the faint hum of the air conditioning.

he sat down on the floor, leaning against the wall, and pulled his knees to his chest. the cool air and the silence were soothing, and he felt his eyelids grow heavy. just as he was about to drift off, he heard footsteps. he peeked around the stack of books and saw a group of girls walking towards him, giggling and chatting.

“great,” he thought. “just great.”

the girls didn’t notice him at first, but as they got closer, one of them spotted him. she nudged her friend, and they both started whispering and giggling even louder. beomgyu felt his face heat up with annoyance and embarrassment. this was definitely not going to work.

he got up, brushing the dust off his pants, and made his way out of the library, ignoring the stares and whispers of the girls. “too many people and out in the open,” he thought. scratch that idea.

places to (possibly) sleep 1) janitor’s closet 2) library

beomgyu trudged on, defeat clinging to him like yesterday's gym clothes. he formulated a mental list in his head, each possibility crumpling under the weight of potential interruptions. the rooftop? too exposed. the music room? a rogue trumpet could shatter any hope of sleep.

his weary eyes scanned the familiar halls, a sliver of hope flickering as he rounded a corner. there it stood, a solitary figure against the twilight sky—the astronomy tower.

the tower, a relic of a bygone era of scientific exploration. its once-gleaming silver exterior was now weathered and rusted, the windows dark and vacant. It had been years since anyone had ventured inside, rumors of asbestos and ghosts swirling around it like dusty cobwebs.

but for beomgyu, in his desperate search for a haven, the tower's isolation was a siren song. no students lingered in its shadow, no teachers patrolled its perimeter. in that forgotten corner, a flicker of hope ignited. it might be dusty, it might be creepy, but it could be perfect. as he neared the tower, the details became more pronounced: chipped tiles forming the entrance walkway, a rusty weather vane groaning in the faint evening breeze, and the peeling paint revealing the faded inscription "ad astra per aspera" - "to the stars through difficulties." an odd prickle ran down his spine. the inscription felt oddly fitting, a challenge on this day of immense hardship. could the tower, in its own dilapidated way, be his path to the stars? to sleep, the most elusive star in his current reality? the door was old and creaky, and it took a bit of effort to push it open. just as he was about to reach for the door handle, the bell rang, signaling the end of the school day.

“fuck,” beomgyu muttered, feeling his shoulders slump in defeat. the observatory would have to wait. he decided then and there that he would check it out tomorrow during his free period. he turned and trudged back down the hallway, the prospect of a good nap tantalizingly out of reach.

⋆˚࿔ taglist! @flowzel , @izzyy-stuff , @inkigayocamman , @beombeomlovesme ⤷ want to get notified? click here!

© 2024 seoulzie

[echo-riot]

Loser!Sub Ellie Headcanons

1. Always Begs for Permission: Ellie’s too nervous to take initiative without explicit direction.

“Can I? Like… please? I’ll be good, I swear.”

2. Gets Embarrassed by Her Own Sounds: She tries to stifle her noises, which only makes them louder.

“Oh—shit! Did I—uh, sorry, I didn’t mean to be that loud!”

3. Hyperfixates on Your Reactions: She’s obsessed with pleasing you and needs constant reassurance.

“Is that good? Yeah? Oh my god, you’re so hot like this…”

4. Loses Her Mind Over Praise: Ellie’s so desperate for validation that even a little praise makes her spiral.

“You—you think I’m good? Holy shit, I think I’m gonna die.”

5. Wants to Hear You Talk Dirty: Ellie loves when you tease her, even though she gets flustered.

“Wait, what’d you just call me? Oh my god, don’t stop.”

6. Can’t Handle Being Touched First: The moment you touch her, she’s putty in your hands.

“Fuck—don’t look at me like that I—uh, I can’t take it.”

7. Talks Herself into a Corner: Ellie’s nervous rambling always ends up more degenerate than she intended.

“I-I was just thinking about you earlier—uh, not in a weird way! Or, like, maybe kind of weird…”

8. Gets Off on Being Teased: She loves when you tease her, even though it makes her squirm.

“C’mon, dude, don’t mess with me like that… unless you’re gonna finish what you started.”

9. Can’t Stop Herself from Complimenting You: Ellie gets so flustered that she blurts out awkward compliments.

“You’re, like, stupidly hot, you know that? It’s not fair.”

10. Clings to You After: She’s needy as hell and can’t stop touching you, even after everything’s done.

“Don’t go yet. Just… stay, okay? I need you.”

11. Loves Being Marked: Ellie secretly loves when you leave marks on her, even though she pretends to be embarrassed.

“Oh, shit, you’re gonna leave a mark, aren’t you? Fuck, do it.”

12. Wants to Be Put in Her Place: Ellie craves it when you take charge and tell her what to do.

“Yeah, okay, fine—just tell me how you want me. I’ll do anything.”

13. Gets Flustered When You Take the Lead: She tries to act confident but completely loses it when you take over.

“Oh my god, you’re so—uh, wait, are you really gonna—oh fuck.”

14. Overthinks Every Move: She’s constantly overanalyzing, making her even more awkward.

“Did I do that right? Wait, should I do it again? Uh, just tell me what you want”

15. Obsessed with Your Voice: Ellie can barely function when you whisper in her ear.

“Jesus Christ, you can’t just say stuff like that! I’m already dying over here!”

16. Loses Control at the Slightest Praise: Even the smallest compliment turns her into a wreck.

“Fuck, don’t call me that. Or, uh, do… shit, I don’t know”

17. Gets Embarrassed by How Much She Likes It: Ellie tries to act cool but can’t hide how into it she is.

“Nngh~ shit that feels good- wait did I say that out loud..”

18. Absolutely Melts When You’re Rough: She loves when you get a little rough with her, even if she pretends to protest.

“Oh, come on! You can’t just—fuck—okay, yeah, do that again.”

19. Constantly Seeks Validation: Ellie can’t handle the thought of not satisfying you.

“You liked that, right? You’re not just saying that? Please tell me I didn’t mess it up.”

20. Wants to Be Told What to Do: Ellie loves it when you take the reins and give her instructions.

“Yeah, okay—whatever you say. Just tell me where you want me.”

[fxckn-sxck-fr]

❗❗ HEY ❗❗ I SAUR YEW ADD BUCKY BARNES TO YOUR MLIST 🫵🫵🫵 YOU AINT SLICK ❗❗

anywayssss would you be willing to rank your comic book men on least to most willing to kill for their darling? i know we got your opinion on dick but i wanna see how it compares to everyone else

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐂 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋…

!!! GN reader, mentions of death/murder, violence, breaking bones, intimidation, threats, manipulation, general mental issues, biochemical attack (how the fuck did we get here), mutilation, self-harm, can be translated as either romantic or platonic.

Help, why did the beginning of this ask trigger my fight or flight for 0.2 seconds, LMAO. I dropped my phone like I was caught red-handed or some shit.

So, I initially made an oath to not answer any more asks until I either finish Life With Older Brother IV or my secret side project, but then I got this ask and figured I could use a little creative break. I’m hitting some brick walls right now with all of my writing projects, sobs.

So!! Here we go. Remember, this is in the order of least to most likely in a general sense. Featuring some new faces because I’m finally confident in depicting their comic book counterparts, yippee!!

Jaime Reyes: Obviously, if the scarab had its way, anyone who poses as a threat to Jaime’s beloved would be neutralized. But we’re talking about Jaime. As long as he’s in full control, he’d probably do everything in his power to not kill anyone, even if it’s for you. He knows he’s fucked in the head. No matter how hard he tries to convince himself it’s still just the scarab preying on his anxieties, it’s getting harder and harder to distinguish Khaji Da’s thoughts from his own. This spiral into insanity around his own morality and guilt would have him cling oh-so desperately to the idea that he’s still a hero. To him, the no-kill role is the only way to know for sure he’s still (kind of) himself.

Bruce Wayne: He’s The Batman. Of course he doesn’t kill. Sure, he may be a bit more violent towards potential threats when it comes to you, but he still doesn’t kill. It’s a core belief that he’ll stick to for as long as evil lurks in the shadows of Gotham. Besides, why would he need to kill when cracking a few ribs gets the message across just fine? Most people don’t even want to fuck with him in the first place; both as Bruce Wayne and especially The Batman. In many cases, simple intimidation will do the trick. It’s much neater than violence. Though violence is definitely still on the table when he’s in a mood (Alfred, for the last time, he does not need a therapist. He’s perfectly functional).

Clark Kent: Whereas Batman doesn’t kill, Superman can’t kill. Meaning, Clark is well aware of the image he has to uphold as the ever-so hopeful Man of Tomorrow. Which is actually fine by him. Due to his strong sense of morals, the thought of blood on his hands makes him sick to his stomach. But there are some cases where that dark voice in the back of his mind whispers he could easily snap the neck of that weirdo talking to you. Of course, this is clearly just a strange intrusive thought, and he guiltily shakes it out of his head the moment it appears. He’s Superman, for heaven’s sake! He’s better than that! Stooping to that level is simply not an option. But you know what is an option? Gripping people hard enough that their bones shatter. Accidents do happen, after all…

Wally West: The chances of him killing are very slim. Believe it or not, he’s not against the idea or anything (only when it comes to you), it’s just he doesn’t see the need to get his hands dirty. There are enough tactics in his arsenal that the thought won’t even cross his mind. A silver tongue can work miracles on its own, and standing at 6 feet tall, Wally can be surprisingly intimidating in his own right. Should there be any threat agains you, he’s more focused on getting you out of harm’s way than beating the shit out of anyone (that comes later, away from your prying eyes). At worst, anyone who pushes their luck will get fractures and road rashes as a result. Killing just isn’t an impulse Wally has. But if it absolutely has to happen… well, wouldn’t that be a shame?

Dick Grayson: As mentioned before in a previous ask, killing is off the table. Dick’s still a hero, and heroes don’t kill. It’s just that he miiiight accidentally lose control if he sees you in a critical state. The ask goes into much deeper detail than this, but to sum it up, he would feel devastated afterwards but eventually justify it to himself. It was to protect you… if he didn’t do it, god only knows what would’ve happened. Otherwise, he’s not one to get his hands dirty like that. The most he’ll do is deliver a very ominous threat that doesn’t outright mean he’s going to kill anyone, but the implications aren’t very pretty. And, if he can help it, he’d rather if you’re not in earshot. Unless if he somehow sees it as a good manipulation tactic. Then sure, you can hear all about how he’s going to drown someone in their own bathroom.

Peter Parker: He has a strong aversion to killing. Now, is that an outright no? As much as he’d like to think so, there are situations where no-kill is optional. Most of them involve you being in active danger. While he doesn’t go out of his way to kill anyone, he sure as hell isn’t thinking about the survivability of his rampage to make sure you’re safe. Causalities would be collateral damage; unfortunate, but possibly necessary. He also has a habit of threatening people’s lives when he’s particularly pissed off. As long as you’re not in some sort of critical state, he usually doesn’t follow through with them (and may even feel guilty afterwards). That being said, hearing your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man deliver a cold one-liner about wanting someone dead is still hella scary.

Steve Rogers: Listen, it’s not at all what he wants. He wouldn’t advocate for murdering your problems away both with or without the shield. But sometimes — just sometimes — it’s necessary. Of course he’d kill someone that posed as a threat to your personal safety. That doesn’t make him a terrible person or anything; most people would do that for their loved ones. Where the line starts to blur, however, is when there isn’t any immediate danger. Does that weirdo who was looking at you for too long count? God— no, Rogers. What is wrong with you?! But… then again, there was this look in their eyes… something’s just so off about them. Ultimately, Steve wouldn’t go through with it, but the thought does cross his mind. Not that he’d ever admit it, of course.

Hal Jordan: The answer is yes, but mostly because he’s a Lantern. Sometimes, neutralizing the threat is necessary. He would absolutely kill if it meant saving your life. Is it ideal? Absolutely not. Is it cathartic?… Lowkey. Hal’s not afraid to abuse his right as a Lantern to “neutralize the threat.” But keep in mind that this is a rare occurrence that depends on his mood. Really, he only considers it for situations you’re extremely distressed by, like some piece of shit giving you the creeps. He wouldn’t kill for his own personal gain, as much as he sometimes wants to; this is all about you, not him. I also don’t really see him having regrets. If he wants someone dead, he absolutely means it.

Remy LeBeau: It’s simple; if he’s gotta do it, he’s gotta do it. He’s got not moral hang-ups when it comes to killing. He doesn’t do it often, but he’s willing to clean up a mess or two if needed. The need to kill ranges from your personal safety to just not liking someone’s vibe. If that were the case, he’d give the poor sucker more than enough hints to leave you alone. Murder would be a last resort should they not listen; which is totally on them, by the way. Gambit can’t help it if they’re not the sharpest tool in the shed. Is kinetically charging someone’s car to explode not enough of a warning or something? Man, what is wrong with people these days…

Tim Drake: Okay. Tim is just so versatile. Yes, he’s absolutely morally opposed to killing. Yes, it’s a necessary evil. Yes, the thought of it makes him want to throw up. Yes, he’d do it in a heartbeat for you. Somehow, all of these thoughts coexist in his sick little head. What makes Tim a threat is the fact he’s extremely unstable. One day, he’s got himself in check; god, he would never kill anyone, why would he do that?! Then the next day, he seems to have a change of heart; if anyone even looks your way, he’s dumping anthrax in their cereal. His preferred method is something clean, but if he’s in a particularly bad mood, he may revert to some mutilation with his nails. On those particularly violent days, he’d much rather harm himself than others, but there is something cathartic about scratching at someone else while sobbing about minute problems. Though that’s one hell of a “did I do that” moment when it’s over.

Scott Summers: Yes. And he’ll fucking do it again, too. When it comes to you, this man has killed people by accident before. Did he give a shit? Absolutely not. Why would he care if someone doesn’t know how to protect their spinal column when taking a blow; especially if it’s someone who dared to lay a hand on you? And, yeah, he’s supposed to be a good role model for mutants all over the globe, but a good leader knows how to take calculated risks when needed. Your safety is his top priority, meaning he’ll do whatever he deems necessary to keep danger away. Man, is it just absolutely brutal watching someone’s skin melt away from the friction of one continuous optic blast. Who knew he could cave in skulls with that shit?

Bucky Barnes: Let’s be honest, is anyone surprised? Yeah, that’s what I thought. You could simply point to someone you hate and they’d be gone within the next 24 hours. Bucky isn’t here to fuck around. While he may regret any kills he was forced to carry out, he sure as hell doesn’t regret the ones he’s actively choosing to do. If anything, his conditioning has left him no other way to show his total devotion to you. Yes, this means you he leaves fresh human hearts at your doorstep. Yes, this means he strings up the remains of your annoying colleagues where you can see them outside. Yes, this means he watches you sleep while caked in blood and guts after every nightly kill. Some small part of him knows it’s wrong, but he really could not give less of a shit. So much for trying to reform him…

[iliketangerines]

Maybe make a part two to that Raiden fic? Like he actually has the confidence to go fuck you. My size kink goes wild with that man. This Raiden Fic is now stuck in my head. I love your writing.

desperate for you pt. 2

a/n: i gotchu cuties, and thank god google translate exists.

pairing: lord raiden x afab!reader

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), overstimulation, pussy eating, fingerfucking, blowjobs, cum eating, cowgirl, mating press, slight somnophilia, full nelson, size kink, slight degradation kink, slight exhibition kink, breeding kink

Raiden can’t concentrate

not when you look so beautiful in that dress, it clings to your skin, accentuating your breasts and your curves, and he can see your legs in all their glory

thick thighs that he knows would just be plush and soft underneath his rough fingers

but, he’s also about to crush the glass in his hand because there’s a special forces soldier talking to you that’s nowhere near good enough for you

he’s touching your back, your arm, and his hand drifts back to your ass every so often, and you’re clearly giving him hints to back off, but he just keeps on persisting

Raiden should drag you away from this godforsaken work function at this grimy bar and strike the man down where he stands

even better, he should just bend you over in front of everyone and fuck you to show everyone that you’re his

he shakes off the mental image and approaches you two, glaring at the man, who gulps and gives a pathetic excuse to and fuck off

you sigh and give Raiden a shaky thanks, the soldier from earlier was getting a little touchy with you, and you weren’t really interested in him

Raiden just lets out a hum, afraid if he speaks he won’t be able to stop the lewd things he wants to say to you

he stays next to you as a 7 foot guard dog, shooting glares with anyone that dares to try and get any closer, and he lets you ramble on and on until the conversation takes a turn

you complain about how all the men you’ve been with have never been able to satisfy you, can’t even find the clit, and it’s so frustrating

your cheeks are warm and your head is feeling a little spinny, and you rest your head in your cheek as you bemoan how you’ve never cum before

Raiden feels his cock twitch in his pants, his heart pounding in his chest as he leans in close, and tells you he could satisfy you

you look up at him and your mouth gapes open, unsure if you had heard his proposition correctly, but Raiden stays firm in his question

your eyes glance up and down his form, and you stutter out a yes, and Raiden smiles and hooks your arm with his

he tells the bartender to put the drinks on Johnny Cage’s tab and drags you off outside to bring you to his personal quarters

the both of you disappear in a flash of lightning, and the second you both appear in his bedroom, he can’t keep his hands off of you

he’s enraptured by the way his hands engulf your soft thighs, and you’re just as pillowy as he imagined you to be as he squeezes at your breasts and your hips and your legs

you whimper as he manhandles you to lay on his bed, and he leans down to kiss you furiously, closing his eyes in bliss as he finally gets to kiss your plush lips

you’re so soft and pliable, and Raiden wants to stay like this forever, engulfed in your warmth and your plushness

but he has plans

he releases himself from your lips and kisses down your neck, sucking a hickey high into your neck, hoping that the next time that special forces soldier sees you, he won’t ever try to take what’s his again

he trails down and pulls your dress down to expose your breasts, and he nearly growls when he realizes you haven’t worn a bra

he tells you that you’re just begging to be fucked like this, wearing no bra like some common whore, and you whimper at his words

he latches onto your nipple, sucking and biting at the sensitive nub, and you cry out and grip onto Raiden’s white hair, tugging on his soft locks

he groans at the feeling and suckles on your nipples, bringing his hand up to pinch and pull at your other nipple

you let out little whines, and Raiden is drunk on your sweet sounds and bites a little harder to hear you yelp in pain and pleasure

he switches to your other nipple, lavishing it with the same attention as he licks and sucks on it

your hips buck up into his, and he groans as your thighs press into his aching cock

he squeezes your breast roughly in one hand and detaches himself from your chest to admire the way the fat of your chest spills in his hands

he just squeezes at your chest for a few seconds, and your face warms in embarrassment

he leaves a final kiss on each breast before ripping the dress off of you, and you gasp, whining that the dress was expensive

but all Raiden can focus on is the way you also have no panties on, you truly were a slut

he forces your thighs open and stares at your pussy, wetness dripping down onto the sheets of his bed, and your legs twitch as they try to close

you bring a hand down, a little embarrassed at the way he just stares at it, but he grabs onto your wrist and leans down to get face-to-face with your drooling cunt

he asks whether you were planning on going home with somebody tonight, and you turn your head away, burying it into your free arm

he smacks at your thigh with his large hand and tells you to answer your god, and you whimper and say yes, you were going to go home with somebody

Raiden’s vision slightly blurs at the edges as he imagines some subpar soldier bringing you home and not pleasing you right like you deserved to

he growls out that you’re such a slut, prancing around the bar without a bra or panties, and you whine at the words, begging him to do anything else besides stare at your pussy

he says that you’ll never be able to go home with anyone else again before diving into your pussy, large tongue pressing firmly into your puffy clit

your hips buck, and he lets go of your wrist to pin your hips down and force you to take the pleasure he’s giving you

you grip onto his hair as he sucks and nips at your clit, moaning at the taste of you and swearing that not even all the other elder gods could pull him away

you whine as your grip in his hair grows tighter, and when Raiden’s nose perfectly grinds into your clit as he fucks your pussy on his thick tongue, your back arches off the bed and you cum, your sweetness covering his face

Raiden moans and continues to lap at your pussy, trying to drink you in because he really could stay here forever with how your soft thighs tighten around his head and how sweet you taste on his tongue

you jerk away, clit sensitive, as he keeps on sucking on it and tears prick at the edges of your eyes as he slips in a long and thick finger into your dripping pussy

you whine, his fingers much thicker than yours, and grind into his face despite the overstimulation

Raiden continues to hum into your clit and fucks you slowly on one of his fingers, feeling your pussy spasm around it as you cum on his finger

you cry out as Raiden adds another finger, pressing his tongue into your clit as he fucks you slowly on his fingers, and you whine at the sound of your wet cunt filling the air

the stretch burns deliciously and the mix of pleasure and pain fills your mind as Raiden flicks your clit back and forth on his tongue and curls his fingers into your sweet spot

you can't think, hear, see anything except feel the way Raiden stretches you out on his thick fingers and hums around your clit

you tip over the edge and cry out Raiden’s name as he makes you cum for the third time

he retracts his fingers, licking your cum off them as he crawls back up and kisses you sweetly

he then moves you easily off the bed so that he’s standing, and you’re kneeling before him at his feet, and he files away the thought of you looking needy and pathetic at his feet

he tells you to take out his cock, and your hands tremble as you bring them up and pull his pants down

it springs from its confines, tip flushed and red as your lips part slightly and your eyes look up at him in slight fear at the size of him

Raiden tells you not to worry, that it’ll fit, and you wrap a hand around his shaft, hand barely able to connect at the edges as you pump him

you lick at the tip, and he groans and encourages you, telling you that you’re doing wonderful

you leave kisses on his cock, dragging your tongue on a sensitive vein on the underside of his cock, and Raiden’s hand shoots down to grip onto your hair

you continue to kiss his cock before finally kissing the tip of his flushed dick and taking just the tip into your mouth, tongue pressing into the slit and circling it

Raiden moans as you slowly bob your head up and down, lips stretching around the girth, and it’s better than anything he could’ve imagined

you take him deeper and deeper into your mouth, only able to take him halfway before his dick hits the back of your throat and you come off, gagging and coughing

he lets you cough and drags you up, having to lift you off the ground by your waist, and kisses you, tongue massaging against yours as he tastes himself on your tongue

you whine and Raiden falls back onto the bed and lays your cunt on top of his dick

he slides you back and forth on his dick, letting your wetness lube him as your hips jerk forward to try and get more friction

he loosens his grip on you, telling you to go at your pace and take him

you bite your lip and lift yourself up to align himself and slowly sink down on his tip

he groans as your pussy clenches tightly around his cock, struggling not to buck upward and slam you down, and you whine at the stretch

you bounce up and down lightly, thighs burning as you take more and more of him

Raiden can’t focus on anything but your desperate moans and the way he can see the bulge on your stomach grow as you sink further on his dick

but you stop prematurely, not fully bottomed-out, and you whine, saying you can’t

Raiden grunts and flips you over, staying inside of you, and throws your legs over his shoulders

you groan at the stretch of your legs, but grip tightly on his shoulders as thrusts in and out of you, sinking his cock further and further into you

he growls into your ear that he’ll make it fit, and your mind goes fuzzy at the thought

finally, with one final thrust, he fully bottoms out in you, and he groans at the feeling of your tightness fully enveloping his dick

tears drip down your face at the stretch, and he kisses them away, shallowly thrusting into you to let you adjust to his size

he looks down and sees the outline of his cock on your stomach, and his thrusts start growing deeper and faster until he’s fully fucking into you

you whine as he fully surrounds you and takes up every sense that you have

Raiden gets on his knees, lifting your hips up, and places his hands onto your hips and somehow gets faster

you’re nothing but a doll on the bed, drooling and whining as the new angle hits you deep inside and has your pussy clenching down on him

the sound of your moans, his grunts, and your wet cunt fills the room

Raiden barely feels like a god, he feels more like an animal as he watches how his cock fucks into you and how his large hands cover your hips

he reaches his thumb down and flicks at your clit,and you whine in response

he wants to stay like this forever, fucking into your tight wet cunt, but fuck he wants to cum deep inside of you, fill you with his seed

he wants to see you full, breed you with his godly seed, wants to see you round out, your breasts fill with milk, your thighs grow with fat

he imagines how soft you would be, how compliant and submissive and beautiful, how you would taste so sweet and how you would fall apart underneath his fingertips

he presses into your clit harder, telling you to cum for your god, and you moan at his words and clench down on his cock and cream all over his cock

he groans at the feeling of you and his thrusts grow erratic as he cums inside of you and fucks you through yours and his orgasm

his thrusts slow, and he stays inside of you, plugging his cum inside of you and keeping your hips raised up

you lay on the bed, panting and floating in a reality of pleasure and half-asleep from how fucked-out you are

Raiden lets you down after a few minutes, moving you so that his cock stays inside of you but so he can spoon you from behind

he runs his finger over your body as your breathing slows and you fall asleep

he falls asleep soon after, and when he wakes up, your pussy is dripping around him, and he’s hard again

you wake up to him fucking you, back flush to his plush chest and your legs hooked over his arms as he fucks deep into you

he cums deep inside of you again, and he goes down on you once again and laps at the mixture of yours and his cum

he has you cum on his fingers and tongue a few more times before helping you get out of the bed and into the bathroom

you brush your teeth, wash your face and body while he does the same, watching as the remnants of his cum drip down your legs

he wipes it away with a soft rag, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh, and gives you one of his shirts to wear

he teleports you two back to base, and you change into more acceptable clothes and head to work with a lovesick Raiden behind you

he holds onto your hands, admiring how his hand engulfs yours, and when Raiden sees the soldier from last night pale at the sight of the dark hickey on your neck and the way you cling to Raiden, Raiden lets a smug smirk overtake his face

he finally has you all to himself, and he’s never letting go

[janeyseymour]

Love Thy Neighbor- pt 4

Summary: the aftermath, and your first day of work. good lord.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

WC: ~4.15k

You kiss her back- of course you do. You would be an idiot to pretend that you weren’t attracted to your neighbor turned coworker.

But as soon as you pull away, there’s a look of panic written on your face. “Uh-”

“I- I’m sorry,” the redhead apologizes quickly. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“No. No,” you state. “Don’t apologize. I just, uh…” you turn bright red, nearly as red as the woman’s hair next to you.

She stands awkwardly.

“No,” you sigh. “I- I liked that.”

She sits back down and looks you in the eye. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” you admit quietly. “I did… I just-“ you purse your lips, trying to figure out how to say this without ruining everything that you have going on right now.

“Just say what you’re thinkin’, hun,” Melissa encourages gently.

“I don’t want to ruin our friendship,” you say softly as you evade her eye contact.

“You won’t,” she promises, laying a warm hand over yours.

You suck in a breath before spilling out, “I’ve always thought you were beautiful, but I- I just divorced my husband, I have Ellie to worry about and look after, we’re coworkers now! I- this is all so complicated. I just don’t think now is a great time, and maybe not… maybe not ever.”

Those green eyes look at you with such an understanding that it hurts you- it pains you so much to not be able to give into what you so desperately want to do. You want to be selfish and pull the redhead into your bedroom, tell her that even though you’ve only known her for a short time, she makes you feel more than Jared ever had. But you can’t- because you know there are too many risks involved with this woman, and you do not want to lose a good friend, coworker, and someone that your daughter trusts and loves.

“I understand, hun,” Melissa tells you softly. “I do. It’s okay.”

“Melissa,” you sigh quietly. You stare at your hands, one of hers on top. “I am so-”

“Don’t apologize,” she instructs gently, yet also somehow sternly. “I will not hear it.”

You nod hesitantly before looking into her striking emerald eyes with tear filled eyes of your own.

“Hey,” she says gently. “Don’t cry. There’s no need to cry. We’re okay. I promise.” She tugs you in, allowing you fall into her arms. You cling to her, the perfume that she’s wearing surrounding you.

After a few seconds, you pull back. “Thank you.”

“For what?” she asks. “I didn’t do nothin’.”

“For-” you bite your bottom lip nervously. “For helping out when I need it, and for being there for Ellie, and for helping me get a job, and for… being so understanding about all of this.”

“Of course,” she smiles softly, patting your arm. “I’ll always be here to help in any way I can.” She stands. “I guess I should head back over to my place- school tomorrow.”

“I guess,” you shrug. “Or… you could stay for a little longer? Have another glass and keep watching the movie with me?”

It’s clear that you don’t want to be alone right now.

“You okay?” she asks as she sits back down and wraps an arm around you. She chuckles. “I promise I’m not trying to make any more moves on you- just trying to provide comfort. Barb is a lot better at it than I am.”

“You’re not doing too bad,” you give a choked out laugh, tears still in your eyes. “Y-yeah, I’ll be okay. Just a bit overwhelmed with this new life… missing my old one. The divorce is still pretty raw too.”

“I know that feeling,” she sighs. “My ex-husband and I divorced years ago, and sometimes it still haunts me. So, know that you aren’t alone in those feelings.”

You nod and relax into the couch cushion.

The two of you sit quietly, thoughtfully and neither of you watching the screen in front of you, before she really does have to go get to bed if she’s going to be a functional teacher tomorrow.

You see her out, thanking her again, before sighing. You close the door gently before leaning up against it. Deciding that you still don’t want to be alone, you go to Ellie’s room. She’s fast asleep surrounded by her stuffed animals, but she’s clutching something in her arms. 

You gently arrange her so that you can see what she’s- she’s holding onto a picture of you, her, and your ex-husband. Jared has an arm wrapped around you, his smile is bright. You have Ellie on your hip, and she’s giggling at something that he had said to make her laugh for the picture. You have a clear look of love in your eyes as you look down on your sweet little girl.

Those times were… so good. Simple. Full of what you thought was love. If only you had known he was sleeping around with Sharon, and Sarah, and Heather, and Autumn, and… whoever the hell else he was before finally deciding to dedicate most of his time to Jen and not you.

You wipe the tears that have rolled down your cheek with the back of your hand before you simply curl up next to your daughter and hold her as you try to ground yourself. You fall asleep. holding her protectively- as if you could shield her from all of the terrible things that happen in the world. She snuggles into your body, smiling in her sleep and letting out a soft hum.

The next morning, Ellie is jumping on your chest to wake you up at the ass crack of dawn.

“Momma, momma, momma!” she shakes you.

You groan, keeping your eyes closed. “Momma’s sleeping, baby.”

“No you’re not! I’m hungry, and I wanna go to school!”

You open one eye, just barely, to see that beautiful girl of yours. You turn your head to look at the unicorn alarm clock on her pink bedside table. Next to it is the picture of your torn apart family, and your heart hurts for just a second before you see the time: 5:30.

“Elizabeth, it’s too early to be awake,” you groan as you pull her from off of you and gently set her next to you. You pull her in close to your chest. “Go back to sleep, baby girl.”

“But I’m wide awake!” she tells you.

“And I am not,” you chuckle. “Lay with me until the clock says six, and then we can talk about breakfast and getting up.”

Your daughter sighs, but she does relax against you. You hold her tight, reveling in the fact that while everything has been turned upside down in your world, Ellie is your one constant. You have your little girl- she’s all yours, and you’re going to do everything you can for her.

The next time you wake up, you’re slamming your fist on the alarm clock, turning it off. Ellie is fast asleep on your chest, the smallest droplet of drool falling from her mouth.

“Ellie Belly,” you jostle her gently. “It’s time to wake up for school, my love.”

Her little head pops up, and you chuckle at her wild bedhead. “Mrs. Howard?”

“Yes, my love,” you smile. “It’s time to start getting ready to go see Mrs. Howard.”

She uses you as a launch pad to jump up, and you let out a small groan. She’s opening her closet to pick out her outfit before you can even sit up.

You get her ready before starting on breakfast and getting yourself at least somewhat presentable for the day. You know you’re going to head into the school to set up your new room before you start to DoorDash. You should look at least somewhat professional entering the school.

As you shuffle your daughter out the door, you’re met with the redhead.

“Hey,” she smiles at the two of you, sunglasses already over her eyes.

“Miss Mel!” Ellie absolutely lights up. “Are you gonna take me to school again today?”

“Not today, little love,” you tut softly. “Momma’s gonna bring you. We’re gonna take the bike.”

The redhead frowns. “When are you getting your car out here?”

“Not for another few weeks,” you sigh.

“I can give the two of you a lift if you want,” Melissa tells you. “I really don’t mind.”

“Oh, I have to get back home somehow,” you chuckle nervously. 

“You can bring my car back, so long as you promise to pick us back up at the end of the day,” the woman counters.

You bite your lip, hesitant to accept her offer to help. But Ellie is looking up at you with pleading eyes. So you nod before opening your front door back up and grabbing the booster seat for her.

You get Ellie settled in the car before climbing into the passenger seat. “Thank you.”

She just smiles at you as she pulls out of the parking garage and onto the busy streets of center city Philadelphia.

She hums softly to the music that is coming from the speakers before turning and asking you, “Any big plans for the day?”

You shrug. “I’ll probably be biking back and forth today with the supplies from the storage locker for my new room.” 

“Use my car for the day,” she tells you without any sort of hesitation. “Less trips, more time to set up.”

“I- I couldn’t ask that of you.”

“You didn’t,” she chuckles. “I’m offering to help.”

“I’m paying you for gas,” you tell her, hitting her with a look that leaves no room for argument.

“No you ain’t,” your coworker laughs. “Just make dinner again sometime soon, and we’ll call it even.”

“I like it more when you cook, Miss Mel,” Ellie makes her thoughts very clear.

You roll your eyes at that comment and look back at her. She’s giving you the most innocent little smile, and your heart melts. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Melissa pulls into a spot in the parking lot before grabbing her bags. “C’mon. I’ll show you where your room is.”

It happens to be the room right next to hers. You glance around, and you can make this work. It just needs some brightening up.

“Ellie,” the redhead says softly, gathering the attention of your daughter. “Your momma has to get going, and Miss Mel is gonna head into the teacher’s lounge for some coffee and morning news. You coming?”

Your daughter nods excitedly. “Can I bring my book?”

“Of course,” the second grade teacher smiles softly. “Say goodbye to your momma though first.”

Ellie bounces over to you and flings herself into you. You chuckle, crouching down to her level before hugging her tightly. You release her, and Melissa plants her car keys in your hands.

“Seriously,” you say softly. “Thank you. I’ll be making my poppyseed chicken tonight if you want to join us.”

She nods. “I’ll bring the wine.”

You spend most of your day heading back and forth between the storage locker that has your teaching supplies and the school. You have a thin sheen of sweat dousing your brow by the time the school bell rings to signify that the day is over, but your classroom looks great. It’s bright and full of positivity, and you couldn’t be more satisfied with the progress that you had made.

You gather your purse and a few things that you won’t be needing before heading outside to gather your girl in your arms.

“Momma!” Ellie catches sight of you before you can make your way out the door. She’s holding onto Melissa’s hand tightly with a grin on her face.

You open your arms up wide for her, and she drops your neighbors hand to come running into your arms. “Hi, my love. Did you have a good day at school?”

She nods enthusiastically before looking back at Melissa. “Mrs. Howard let me sneak into the secret room to give her a hug again. I love Miss Mel.”

“I know you do,” you chuckle.

“Can I be her helper while we wait for her to go home?” your daughter requests softly. “She needs help making sure everyone gets to their people.”

“If that’s okay with Miss Mel,” you chuckle.

Ellie walks on her toes back over to the redhead and tugs gently on her sleeve. She asks before raising her arms up for Melissa to pick her up. Of course, your neighbor obliges with a smile. Ellie wraps her arms around her neck and lays her head on the leather jacket gently.

You can’t help but smile as you watch the two of them together. Ellie is so comfortable with Melissa, and it makes your heart so happy to see that she’s content with someone besides you- she had always been a bit more hesitant around new adults. But Melissa had swooped right in and made her way into Ellie’s heart. You know that Melissa has a special place in your daughter’s heart too.

Dismissal is over, and you follow Melissa back into the school for her to gather her things, Ellie still on the redhead’s hip slumped over and clearly asleep.

You offer to take Ellie off her hands for her.

“I got her,” Melissa smiles, holding Ellie with such tender love and care.

You chuckle. “Are you sure? I know she gets heavy after a while, and you’ve been holding her for the past twenty minutes.”

“I got her,” the redhead is adamant as she grabs her purse and slings it over her other shoulder. “How’s your room coming along? Mind if I sneak in and take a look?”

You nod, although you’re nervous. You hope she finds it to be suitable. She walks in and her eyes go wide.

“Wow, Y/N,” she says softly. “This looks incredible. The kids are going to love it.”

You blush and mumble a thanks before following her out the door to head to her car. Melissa puts Ellie in the car and buckles her in with a soft chuckle. She moves the stray hairs out of her face before closing the door gently. You hand her the keys that she puts her hand out for before climbing into the car.

The ride home is peaceful. She tells you what some of your future students are up to, and she explains that they are more than excited to meet you. That makes you smile- although you hope you can live up to the hype.

When you get home, Ellie is awake and feeling refreshed from her nap. She’s immediately asking if she can help you make dinner for her favorite person. You allow her to mix the sauce together, and you can’t help the chuckle you let out when she steals a taste.

“My silly girl,” you say softly. She’s growing up before your eyes.

“Can I go get Miss Mel?!” she asks.

You roll your eyes playfully. “I think someone has a new favorite person… and it isn’t Momma! How rude!”

“No! No!” Ellie is quick to hug you tightly. “You’re my favoritest person in the whole wide world! Miss Mel is just my second favoritest person.”

You squeeze her right back. “That’s so kind of you to say. Go ahead… get Mel.”

She runs off, and you take a deep breath to collect yourself. Hearing that you were her favorite person in the world- it melts your heart. But you also remember a time where a five year old Ellie would proudly announce that Momma and Daddy were her two favorite people in the world. Now it’s just you.

A stray tear falls down your face, and you’re quick to wipe it away when you hear the front door open again.

“-And I helped Momma make it!” Ellie finishes her sentence as she drags Melissa into your kitchen.

You quickly wipe away the second tear that makes its way down your cheek before turning around with a broad smile on your face. Melissa sees right through your act though, and she gives you a questioning look. You silently shake your head, indicating that you’re fine. She doesn’t believe you and mouths that you’ll talk about it later.

Ellie launches herself up at you, and you’re quick to hold her close to you, peppering her cheeks with the kisses that she deserves. “Little miss was the best co-chef,” you let out a thick chuckle.

Dinner goes on as it usually does, and then the three of you settle on the couch. Ellie watches the usual cartoon that she loves in Melissa’s lap before she’s dozing off. You suppose that her nap only kept her refreshed for a bit.

The redhead looks down and laughs softly, rubbing Ellie’s back soothingly. “She was exhausted after recess today… told me all about the crazy game of tag she was playing with her classmates.”

“Sounds like my little girl,” you say as you settle your gaze on your sweet girl. “At least she’ll sleep through the night.”

“She doesn’t let you sleep?” the woman laughs as she looks down again.

“She uses the bathroom at least three times a night most nights… and every time, she bellows for me- poor thing is scared of the dark,” you sigh. “Even with all of the nightlights we have around. And then she’s up at the ass crack of dawn.”

“Sounds like a six year old,” Melissa laughs. “Well, I guess I should get going. School tomorrow and everything.”

You nod and take Ellie off of her. Your little girl scrunches her nose in her sleep, and you pray she doesn’t wake up. If she does, it’ll be at least another twenty minutes before your neighbor can leave for the night. Thankfully, she settles into your hold, clinging to your shirt.

“Goodnight, Mel,” you say softly. “Thank you again for helping us out today.”

“Have her ready to go at the same time tomorrow,” Melissa instructs. “I’ll take her in while you do whatever you have to get done tomorrow.” You go to protest. “And I will not be taking no for an answer.”

You close your eyes and huff. “Okay.”

The next few days continue on the same way, with Melissa taking you and Ellie to and from the school. It’s very kind of her to do. The three of you have meals together, and you and Melissa have started cooking together.

On Friday, you finish your DoorDashing shift a bit early, bike your way back to the apartment complex, and pick up Melissa’s car. You grab the things that you want to place on the desks before heading out. You pull in and get buzzed into the school.

The secretary smiles as she sees you, handing you the badge that they’ve been promising you the entire week, and you head down to your classroom.

You set the little trinkets on the desks for your students and then head over to Melissa’s room.

The weekend is nice. The three of you actually spend most of your time together. You and Melissa take Ellie to the park, you get coffee at the redhead’s favorite little shop, and then you make dinner together. Melissa helps put your daughter to bed, and it’s all good and fine.

Come Monday, you’re a nervous wreck. Ellie is exhausted from the extravagant weekend, and she is not a happy camper. Even Melissa coming over to make breakfast can’t quite wake her up.

“Momma cannot deal with this Elizabeth,” you grit out as she squirms. 

At her full first name, your daughter pauses. Her little mouth forms into an ‘O’, and she stops her protests until it’s time to shuffle her out the door.

“I don’t wanna take the bike!” she groans and stomps her feet. “I wanna drive with Miss Mel!”

“And Momma wants to bike.”

“I don’t care!”

“Elizabeth Ruth,” you say sternly. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, attempting to ground yourself.

Melissa lays a gentle hand on your shoulder, and it’s so comforting.

“Miss Mel will take us today, but we cannot keep bumming rides off of her,” you tell your daughter. You get her into the car, and only when you’re pulling out of the garage does the redhead offer you a gentle smile.

“Hey. It’s all gonna be okay,” she tells you softly. “And you ain’t bumming rides off me. I like giving you guys rides.”

You shake your head and your hands out in attempts to soothe yourself.

“I know you’re nervous, but today is going to be just fine, you’ll be with me, and-”

“Why do you get to spend all day with Miss Mel?!” Ellie screeches from the back seat. The idea of you spending time with the redhead without her throws her into an absolute fit. She’s kicking your seat and crying, and you finally snap.

“Elizabeth Ruth!” you whip around. “Enough! I will only be with Melissa because I will be doing my job, and you’ll still get to see us both when Mrs. Howard walks you down to the staff room, and you will see her during dismissal!”

Your sharp voice makes your daughter freeze. Her tears subside, and she’s reduced to sniffles.

You soften. “I’m sorry, love. Momma’s just a bit stressed this morning.”

“It’s okay, Momma,” Ellie whimpers. “”s ‘kay.”

You feel bad for snapping on her, and when the three of you get out of the car, Ellie insists on staying by Melissa’s side.

“For today, you’re just sticking by my side and observing, but feel free to run out whenever you have to,” the redhead tells you once she’s gotten her stuff settled, and Ellie is sitting in one of the bean bag chairs in the back of the room. “If you need to make copies, continue setting up your room, use the bathroom… anything like that.”

“You nod.”

“I’m heading down to the staff lounge for some coffee and to watch the news if you want to join,” the redhead tells you. Ellie is immediately at her side and asking to be picked up, to which Melissa does immediately.

You follow them down to the lounge silently, nerves coming back full force.

The second grade teacher introduces you to her friends and tells them that you’re Ellie’s mother, but also their newest staff member.

Janine is quick to introduce herself and tell you that she’s willing to help you in any way you might need, that you’re so lucky to have Melissa as your mentor, and that your daughter is just the cutest thing.

Everyone else is just as kind, although not quite as interested in you. Barbara just smiles gently at you and nods- she already knows of you and the interest her work wife has taken on you.

The lounge time is nice, a time for you to recollect yourself, but it’s over far too soon. You walk Ellie down to her kindergarten classroom and give her a warm hug and kiss. 

“I love you, little girl,” you whisper to her, kissing her hairline.

“I love you too, Momma,” she says just as softly. She lets you go and hugs Melissa just as tightly before telling the woman that she loves her too.

Although Ellie had said it before, this one feels much more heartfelt from your little girl, and the redhead can’t help the tears that well in her eyes. “I love you too, El.”

The two of you leave your daughter with Barbara and head back to her room.

“You okay?” the redhead asks you gently.

You nod as confidently as you can, but she can read your body language. “Nervous.”

She reaches for your hand gently and squeezes it. It’s so warm, and full of comfort, and just everything you need right now. Her eyes are soft and you can see the amount of love and care that she has for you in her eyes. You swoon- almost. 

You squeeze hers back, as if to silently say thank you. And then neither of you let go. You just continue on down to her room, your hand in her own.

When you get there and pull apart, your cheeks turn red. You shouldn’t have held her hand the whole way down. But before you can apologize or say anything to her, one of the kids is running in, so excited to tell Melissa all about her day after school yesterday.

You retreat back to her back table where your things are and sigh. You watch her handle this child with so much care, but it’s just not the same as when it’s Ellie. It melts your heart that you now know that your girl has a special place in her heart. But at the same time, it makes it so much more complicated- your feelings for her. 

This is going to be interesting.

[balancethescales]

theres a special pain that hits me when i think about richie and carmy’s dynamic for too long because speaking as a middle child who couldn’t imagine a life without my siblings, it’s so real to shout the most horrendous shit you can think of to their face and expect to move past it with an off-handed apology and quick hug, if that at all, because you know as a sibling that the sibling bond is unbreakable; no matter what, you have been tied together since birth and nothing can sever that. the problem is richie doesn’t have the assurance of a blood relation— he only had mikey. and now, without him, his place, his purpose in the berzatto family, is suddenly no longer clear. in the freezer scene, carmy and richie were functioning exactly as family because that’s kind of who they’ve been to each other their whole life. so carmys half-assed apology makes sense, because to him, that’s how family, specifically his family, apologizes. but richie only had that relationship to the berzattos because of mikey, and they both know it, richie even more so after the s2 finale.

and so, much of the tension between them is because they don’t know how to function without mikey as their tether. mikey was a brother to both of them and now that he’s gone the two of them are clinging to each other to try and fill the gaping hole he left behind and make sense of themselves without him.

carmy and richie’s entire relationship is a desperate attempt to try and keep a dead man alive.

except. neither of them are mikey and they never will be because mikeys charisma, his personality, his spirit was one of a kind. and so, there’s a part of each of them that resents the other for not doing enough for mikey, but there’s an even greater part that’s struggling with not being enough for each other.

[harmonyrae]

Power Couple

CHAPTER 9 - Dirty Work

You can't stop thinking about that night. How intoxicating Sylus was. His aura, his voice, his taste in wine, the conversation. It's definitely making work much harder than it should be...

*NSFW 18+ Content Ahead*

Hazy memories of you and Sylus in the dining room. Candles glowing, the chandelier swinging above you, red wine. You find yourself looking around for the fireplace, you don’t remember there being one in the dining room. The heat was nearly unbearable, sweat dripping down your face, your hair clinging to your neck. You reach for your wine, but before your fingers even touch the glass your core tightens and you can barely breathe. 

Your breathing is punctuated and shallow. You throw your head back and before you register what’s happening, a breathless moan leaves your lips. The breathlessness is accompanied by warmth and… pleasure. 

You’re finally able to lean back and you look down at the table. How could you forget? You weren’t seated at the table. You were on the table. And you are the meal. 

Seeing Sylus’ head between your legs, his hands holding your thighs… The sight is intoxicating, but what he’s doing with his tongue shuts down every thought in your mind. Your toes curl as he traces circles around your clit. He brings a hand down from your thigh and slides a finger into your pussy. You hear him moan your name as his finger swirls and strokes. You arch your back off the table as he slips another finger inside you. He drags his tongue down to drink you in before returning to your swollen clit and sucking, hard. You grab his hair with one hand as Sylus tightens his grip on your thigh and begins thrusting, faster and faster. You slam your other hand down on the table. 

Bang

Your eyes fly open. 

Bang Bang

“Boss, wake the hell up, we have a problem!” Dorian’s voice is loud and angry. 

You stare at your ceiling, breathing heavy. You did not… you absolutely did NOT have a wet dream about Sylus. Of all fucking people. Didn’t you just rip Dorian a new asshole for bringing up the not-date for the 10th fucking time? Jesus. Are you that desperate? You have a vibrator for a reason. It takes care of you just as good as a man. Okay… maybe not “just as good” but pretty damn good.

“Boss! Seriously, you need to wake up!” His voice is getting more irritated.

“I’m awake, just let me get dressed!” You sit up and wipe the sweat from your forehead. You swing your legs off the bed and hurry to your closet to throw on a pair of black sweatpants and a tank top. You just hope whatever this “problem” is, you’ll have a chance to finish getting ready before going out in public. 

You swing your bedroom door open and Dorian shoves a folder into your arms. Glancing down you see Ridgeway Liquors stamped on the front. 

“Ridgeway burned down this morning.” Dorian turns to land face first on your couch. Grabbing a pillow to cover his head. You flip open the file and start to read.

“Who’d you send to walk the grounds?” Your brain shifts into what Dorian lovingly calls “high-functioning boss bitch mode.” Basically, you’re going to sound like a bitch with no heart, only talk about business and there’s a 95% chance you’re going to hurt someone’s feelings.

“Hugh just got back. He’s writing something up.” Dorian’s voice is muffled by the couch cushions.

“Get your face out of my couch and make me a coffee.” Checking your phone, you see you have almost half a dozen missed calls from the CEO of Ridgeway. Thankfully, when you call he picks up immediately.

“We’re on it, I will have an answer by the end of day. Contractors are working on an estimate. And you’ll get the address for your backup location in the next 2 hours.” Before he has a chance to speak, you info dump Ridgeway in an attempt to dampen the hell storm this has, no doubt, started for Himitsu. 

“I want the name of the fucker who lit the match. I want the name of the fucker who gave the order. Hell, I want the name of the gas station attendant who sold the gas to fuel the flames. End of day TODAY or I break the contract.” Click. He hangs up.  

“Yep, that stick is still up there.” Dorian snorts at your comment and focuses on foaming the milk for your coffee. You thank him as he sets it down in front of you. You stare at your mug, the largest in your collection with “Best Boss” printed on it. You immediately look up at Dorian.

“There’s more, isn’t there?” Dorian sits down across from you, looking at his phone. 

Ding

Your phone buzzes with a new message. It’s a picture of a ship with hundreds of containers. Dozens of men cover the boat. You try to zoom in but everything is too pixelated. But there’s a clear logo on the side of the containers. A black bird in a red circle. 

“An Onychinus freight ship? The docks are off limits, who took these photos?” Your voice strained as you try to reign in your frustration. 

“I’ve had a PI looking into Onychinus for months now. He got these last night. Personally, I don’t think it violates your - so called - deal with Sylus.” 

“And if Sylus finds out we have this information?” 

“Then we deal with it. Right now, it’s important you know this. Onychinus is bringing new shit into the zone. And they can dispose of things with that ship too.” Dorian rubs the back of his neck.

“Can we focus on one thing at a time please? The Ridgeway issue is more pressing to us. I need the phone number for our contractor. I also need you to find a new site for them to continue their operations as soon as possible.” Dorian nods and stands up from the table. Pacing in front of the windows making call after call.

Ding

A text message, not from your usual phone. You’re not sure why you decided to start carrying around your burner phone. But on days like today you’re glad you do. 

(Sylus) They’re serving a Chardonnay at this meeting that tastes like I’m biting into a tree. (You) Wine. That’s a good idea actually.  (You) Forget coffee. I definitely need wine at 10am on a Tuesday. (Sylus) Who has you riled up? (You) Besides you? It’s just a normal day in paradise.

You couldn’t tell him anything, but teasing each other via text made you smile. And you needed that, especially today. You sit at your kitchen table for nearly four hours making endless phone calls to get every tiny detail about the fire. You read the reports a second, third, fourth time to make sure you don’t miss anything. You only take a break to make another coffee and eat a banana. Everything is falling into place, but your anxiety is getting worse by the minute. Or maybe that’s the coffee? You’re not sure at this point.

Ding

A text from Dorian. He left about an hour ago to pick up something. You’re hoping this text will confirm delivery.

(Dorian) Delivered. Want me to get started? (You) No. I want to deal with this.

You go to your room to change into black jeans and a fitted black turtleneck. You slick your hair back into a bun and slip on your favorite chunky moto boots. When you don’t get a reply from Dorian you sigh. He always asks, but never listens. You hurry to the elevator and click the basement level button. Show time.

The elevator opens and you’re greeted with the sound of loud thuds and men shouting. You pick up your pace as you head for the door at the end of the all too familiar hallway. The men stationed beside the door give each other a worried look, wondering if they should have intervened when the shouting began. You fling open the door letting it bang against the wall. 

Dorian’s fists are bloody and the face of the man cuffed to the chair is already starting to bruise. Dorian looks up at you, his brow furrowed and forehead glistening with sweat. His eyes burn with anger and he doesn’t lower his voice from a shout.

“He’s close. I’ve got this.” You grit your teeth as you watch Dorian hit the man again.

“I’m not telling you shit you fuck!” The man yells before he spits. Saliva and blood splatter against Dorian’s face and Dorian pulls a knife from his belt. 

“Stop.” Dorian is inches away from slicing the man's nose off. He slowly turns his head to look at you. “Outside. Now.” Straightening up, Dorian tucks his knife away and walks out of the room. 

Dorian loosens his tie and glares at you.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You shove him. He was unprepared so he stumbled backward, but he never breaks eye contact with you. 

“I had it handled.” Dorian damn near growls back at you. 

“I’m taking it from here. Leave.” Dorian stares at you for a moment before turning to stomp off down the hall like an angry toddler.

“Sorry about that.” You say as you re-enter the room. The man in the chair looks up at you, there’s a hint of humor in his eyes.

“No problem princess.” Your smile widens. 

“Do you know why you’re here?” You lean against the wall in front of him, your face hidden in the shadows. 

“Not a clue. Your boy thought it’d be better to just fuck up my face than tell me shit.” And it was true, his face was bloody, black and blue. Dorian worked him over.

“Ridgeway Liquor. What do you know?” You sink your hands in your pockets.

“They have good Vodka.” He chuckles. 

“So good you make late night trips for a bottle or two?” He remains silent, so you continue.

“If it was so good, why did you burn it down?” He throws his head back to laugh.

“Bitch, I didn’t do shi-” Before he can finish the sound of metal on bone cascades through the room. You stand fully in the light, looking down at the man. His nose crumpled against his face, blood gushing down over his mouth and chin. 

“WHAT THE FUCK?!?” The man spits, splattering blood on the floor in front of him. A tooth included.

“Dorian usually goes bare knuckle. I prefer a bit of sparkle.” You stare down at the brass knuckles that adorn your clenched fist. Custom made, diamond encrusted, now painted with a hint of blood.

“The next words out of your mouth will be the reason why your car was in the alley behind Ridgeway last night.” The man looks at you, surprised by your strength and terrified by your question.

“I don’t- I don’t know what-”

THUD

Another punch lands on the man's face. More blood and another tooth falls to the floor.Another punch lands on the man's face. A loud crack of bones breaking and wails of pain flood the small room. Blood gushes from the mans nose and mouth.

“OKAY okay okay okay… I was there. I was there okay?” There’s desperation in his voice.

“What was the job?” You pick up a towel off the nearby table and clean your brass knuckles. 

“I don’t know…” You raise your fist again. “I DON’T KNOW because… because I just had to put a USB in the computer and I don’t know anything else besides that.”

“Who did you deliver it to?” The man drops his gaze. He stares at the floor and cries out in pain.

“I answer that I die. You can hit me all you want, but I can’t…” 

“Die now or die later. Up to you. At least I’m giving you a choice.” You pull your gun from your holster and place the barrel to his forehead. He cries out, his eyes widening.

“Okay, okay OKAY - I delivered it to a man on 2nd and Vine. He only gave me the name Oni.”

“How’d you communicate with him?” 

“A burner phone. Texted me the details.” 

“Where’s the phone now?”

“Bottom of the ocean. His instructions.”

“Where’d you toss it from?” 

“Whitesand Pier.” You turn and walk to the door. “Wait wait WAIT, you gotta let me go. Please! They'll kill me for this!”

“Don’t worry. Oni won’t kill you.” 

Bang

It takes a few minutes for the ringing in your ears to subside. You holster your gun once more and face the door. You swing it open to see Dorian running towards you from down the hall. He slows when he sees you.

“You good?” He glances over your shoulder to see the man slumped forward in his chair.

“Fine.” You stride forward down the hall, Dorian follows you. “We need divers at Whitesand Pier. If you find a phone, send it to Mack. Get a clean up crew in here.”

Lord Almighty Feel my temperature rising

You pull your burner from your back pocket.

“What the fuck is that?” Dorian picks up his pace to look over your shoulder at the screen.

“Elvis Presley.” You answer curtly before sliding to answer the call. “Hello.”

Sylus laughs before saying, “It’s a video call, sweetie.”

“Wait, that’s-” You push Dorian out of the elevator before the door closes so you’re in the elevator alone. You take a deep breath and pull the phone away from your ear.

“What happened?” Sylus looks shocked when he sees your face. You quickly tap the screen to show yourself. Your face is lightly splattered with blood.

“Oh, I’m fine. I was… painting.” Sylus stares at you for a minute.

“Sure.”

“Why are you calling anyways?” You try to clean some of the blood away with your sleeve. Switching hands to make sure your brass knuckles don’t come into frame.

“Just confirming I have permission to enter your territory to pick you up on Saturday?”

“Yes, of course. I still fail to see why a video call was necessary?” 

“I wanted to see you. Is that a problem?” The blood could have blended in with how red your cheeks were turning. When you don’t respond, Sylus continues, his eyes sparkling.

“I’ll see you Saturday, kitten.” 

The screen goes black as Sylus hangs up leaving your reflection in the glass. Specks of blood still splattered on your face, a bead of sweat drips down your back. He couldn’t have picked a worse time.

Tag List (comment if you wanna be added!): @trishiepo0 @not-so-quite-human

[insert-very-generic-name]

after everything...

thorin x reader fanfic

word count: no idea mate

The air hung heavy with the scent of sweat, blood and victory. The last embers of Smaug’s destruction flickered on the horizon, casting an orange glow across the weary faces of the remaining Dwarves. Relief, tinged with the sorrow of lost kin, settled over Erebor like a shroud. Yet, amidst the chaos, a flicker of joy sparked between you and Thorin. Exhausted but exhilarated, you found yourselves drawn to a secluded corner of the reclaimed halls. Dust motes danced in the fading light, illuminating the resolute set of Thorin’s jaw and the glint of triumph in his steely blue eyes.

“We did it,” you breathed, the words catching in your throat.

The weight of the past weeks, the battles, the desperate scramble for survival, all pressed down on you. But here, in the shadow of Erebor, a fragile sense of peace settled in.

Thorin turned to you, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Despite the grime etched on his face and the weariness in his every breath, there was a spark of pride in his gaze. He reached out, his calloused fingers brushing against yours, sending a jolt of warmth through you.

“Aye, we did,” he rumbled, his voice thick with emotion. “Thanks to you, amongst many others.” His thumb brushed over the knuckles of your hand, a silent acknowledgment of your bravery.

You squeezed his hand back, a wry smile playing on your lips. “Don’t downplay your role, King Thorin. Without your stubborn determination, we’d all still be lizard snacks.”

A genuine laugh escaped him, a rich sound that seemed to echo in the cavernous hall. It was a rare sound, a glimpse of the Thorin you’d known before the dragon’s madness had taken hold. The sound warmed you from the inside out. The moment stretched between you, a silent understanding passing between tired eyes. The future of Erebor stretched before you, a vast and uncertain landscape. Yet, in that shared look, a promise bloomed – a promise to face the challenges together, to rebuild a kingdom and a life.

“There’s much to be done,” Thorin finally said, his voice regaining its usual gruffness. “But for tonight,” he paused, his gaze lingering on your face, “let us celebrate what we have achieved.”

A blush crept up your neck. The unspoken words hung heavy in the air – a celebration that extended far beyond the reclaimed halls. A honeymoon, a stolen moment of normalcy amidst the chaos. You met his gaze, a silent acceptance passing between you. The weight of the coming tasks could wait.

A hesitant smile bloomed on your face. "Lead the way, Your Majesty," you teased, a playful glint in your eyes. "Although, I wouldn't mind a bath first. This grime is practically a second skin."

Thorin's gruff laugh echoed through the hall. "Aye, that can be arranged. There are still some functioning baths in the royal quarters, though they may not be as luxurious as you're accustomed to."

The mention of your old life sent a pang of nostalgia through you, quickly replaced by a surge of excitement. Luxury could wait. The thought of soaking away the aches of battle and the grime of the journey in the company of Thorin was far more appealing.

"A bath fit for a king and his…" you trailed off, searching for a playful word. "His consort?" Thorin supplied, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

"His… most capable companion," you winked

An unfamiliar warmth bloomed in your chest as the corner of his mouth curled into a genuine smile. He gestured towards a side passage. "Follow me then, my beloved capable companion. A bath and a meal await."

The walk to the royal quarters was filled with a comfortable silence. Despite the exhaustion clinging to you both, a shared sense of anticipation crackled in the air. This stolen moment, this glimpse of normalcy, felt precious after the tumultuous journey. The bath chamber was surprisingly well-maintained, a testament to the dwarven love for craftsmanship. Thorin excused himself briefly, returning with a steaming pitcher of water and a handful of fragrant herbs. His gaze swept over you, a flicker of something warm passing through his eyes before he quickly looked away.

"Here," he said gruffly, handing you the pitcher. "I cannot… well, I wouldn't want to intrude."

You couldn't help but smile. "Nonsense," you teased. "Surely a king can offer his consort some assistance?"

Thorin hesitated, then a hint of a smile played on his lips. The following hours were a blur of warm water, soothing herbs, and stolen glances. The tension of the past weeks seemed to melt away in the soothing embrace of the bath. When you finally emerged, wrapped in a soft linen robe, Thorin was waiting by the fire, a simple meal laid out on a nearby table. The flickering flames danced in his eyes, painting them with a warmth you hadn't witnessed in a long while.

"You look… radiant," he said, his voice rough with unspoken emotions. The heat from the fire seemed to rise, warming your cheeks as much as his words did. For a moment, all thoughts of the future, the daunting task of rebuilding a kingdom, faded away. All that remained was the warmth of the fire, the comfort of his presence, and the dawning realization that even amidst the chaos, a love had bloomed, strong and resilient.

You lowered your gaze, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "Is that kingly behavior, Thorin Oakenshield? Catching a lady off guard with compliments?"

He cleared his throat, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes despite his attempt at stoicism. "Perhaps not. But the truth is the truth."

The air crackled with a delicious tension. You sank down onto a plush cushion near the fire, beckoning him closer with a tilt of your head. "Then tell me more truths, Your Majesty. Tell me what you see when you look at me."

Thorin met your gaze, his blue eyes searching yours. The flickering firelight played across his face, highlighting the lines etched by hardship yet softening the edges of his normally stoic expression.

"I see courage," he began, his voice low and rumbling. "A fierceness that rivals any dwarf I've known. You stood beside us, faced danger without flinching, and never once faltered."

A warmth bloomed in your chest. It was one thing to hear praise in the heat of battle, another entirely to hear such words from Thorin in this intimate setting.

"And more?" you pressed gently, unable to resist the urge to tease him further.

He hesitated, then a blush crept up his neck, a rare sight that sent a jolt of surprise through you. "And…" he began, his voice dropping to a whisper, "I see… a beauty that rivals the Arkenstone itself."

The playful smile vanished from your face, replaced by a warmth that threatened to consume you. For a king who valued practicality above all else, his words held a surprising depth of emotion. The vulnerability he displayed, the way his gaze lingered on you, sent a shiver down your spine.

Before you could respond, he cleared his throat, breaking the spell. "But enough of such talk," he said gruffly, gesturing towards the table. "Let us eat. Tomorrow, the real work begins."

A touch of regret tinged your heart. You knew he was right, of course. Rebuilding Erebor wouldn't wait forever. Yet, the intimacy of the moment, the raw emotions you'd glimpsed beneath his gruff exterior, made you yearn to hold onto it a little longer.

Taking a deep breath, you rose and moved towards the table. "Indeed," you agreed, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. "Tomorrow, we face the future. But tonight… tonight, we celebrate."

As you shared the simple meal, a comfortable silence fell between you. The weight of the unspoken hung heavy in the air, a promise of a future built on shared battles and blooming affection. Tonight, with the flickering firelight painting warm hues on his face, you saw not just the King Under the Mountain, but the man beneath the crown. And the man you saw, the man who spoke of courage and beauty in hushed tones, filled your heart with a newfound certainty – your honeymoon wouldn't be just a stolen moment, but the beginning of a love as strong as the mountain itself.