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mashkatzi · 3 days ago

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Slow morning with Luigi (fluff)

Something small and fluffy to keep you guys entertained until the oneshot drops. I promise smut is on the way ;) Enjoy.

Let me know if you have any requests bc I'm having a bit too much fun writing lolll.

Waking up early and spending the morning cuddling and showering with Luigi.

You're awoken from a dream. You cannot remember exactly what you were dreaming about but you were happy in your dream. You shift in bed to get more comfortable, nuzzling your head further into the pillow letting out a small groan. You were sure your alarm would go off any minute now. The light from the early morning sun leaks through your curtains, painting your bedroom in a yellow glow. Feeling the bed dip beside you, you hear a soft voice calling your name, so quite it's almost a whisper.

"You awake?" the voice calls out.

"Mm, almost" you reply. Peeling your eyes open, you crane your neck to lay your eyes on Luigi.

He's laying on his side, body turned towards yours. He meets your eyes with a small smile. "Morning, amore".

He reaches his arms out, to hug you from behind, pulling you into himself. Your body slots into the curvatures of his so perfectly. Your ass resting on his pelvis, head pressed against his hard chest. His head rests atop yours. You hold onto his arms and use your fingers to draw small circles onto the flesh of his forearm. he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

"Morning, mio re" (my king) you respond with a cheeky smile. You have been taking Italian lessons from Luigi for a few weeks and this week you had been practicing pet names. "Did I get that right?" you ask cockily. You know you were right but wanted to hear him say it

"Perfetto" he responds rewarding you with another kiss, this time to the back of your neck. You feel him smiling against your skin. "ragazza perfetta" the vibrations of his voice, as well as the prickly feeling of his stubble against your skin send a shiver down your spine.

You turn your head towards Luigi, brushing your nose against his. "perfect girl?" you translate his words back to him.

"yeah, that's right" he says smiling. "My perfect girl".

He loves that you put in effort to learn his mother tongue, loves that you take the time to learn and remember small phrases. Speaking to you in Italian feels so much more intimate to him especially as he is the one teaching you.

He places a small kiss to the tip of your nose and you scrunch your nose is response. Turning your body to face him now you ask "did you sleep well, babe? Why are you up so early?". You wrap your arms around his neck now pulling him closer to you.

"I slept well baby. I feel refreshed" he responds. You know he's been having trouble sleeping the past few months but he doesn't want you to worry about him. But you notice the small changes in him and how he struggles to leave the bed in the mornings, yawning, struggling to keep his eyes open.

It's as if he notices the cogs turning in your brain, trying to figure out if you should be worried about him or not. He leans in to kiss your lips. "I promise you. I slept well" he presses another kiss to your lips as if to indicate that he is indeed, telling the truth.

You smile in response, "what time is it? We have to be up soon, no?" you reach behind to pick up your phone. The bright screen illuminating your face. the numbers "06:27" displayed on the screen.

"Thank god. We have 30 minutes", you sigh in relief. You decide to rest your eyes now, closing them and nuzzling your head into Luigi's neck. You sigh into him, breathing in his scent.

You stay this way for a while before Luigi begins to move under you. "Need to shower. You want to join me?" he looks down at you.

"I'm not really-" you begin before he cuts you off

"No baby, we don't have to do anything. Just want to have you close to me". He assured you. It's not uncommon for you and Luigi to shower together, but it usually ends with you bent over and him behind you, bullying his fat cock into you. But you must admit, you enjoy the soft intimacy of aftercare, standing under the warm water together, him caressing your face whispering praises into your ears.

"I'll wash your hair for you", Luigi attempts to convince you to join him. He slides out of bed, holding a hand out to you.

"Ok deal". you reach for his hand and he pulls you towards him and carries you bridal-style towards the bathroom. You smile into his chest, enjoying the feeling of his arms supporting you.

He places you carefully on top of the bathroom counter, and begins to undress himself. First removing his shorts and then his plain black vest. he reaches over to turn the water on before turning back to you. He helps you to remove your (well his) Stanford top and then instructs you to lift your hips to remove your panties.

Once the both of you are naked, you step into the shower. He lets you go first. You stand under the warm spray of water running your hands through your tangled locks. He steps in behind you, grabbing your shampoo bottle. He squirts a small amount of it onto his palm and begins to lather it into your hair. He instructs you to face away from him and close your eyes. The feeling of his hands running through your scalp brings you bliss and he takes a step forward so that he is now also under the water. You let out a small whine in content.

Luigi works away at your hair, once he's done he pulls you under the water to rinse out the shampoo. "Which one is conditioner" he asks looking over the countless hair products you have gathered on the shelf in the shower. "How could someone need this many shower products, man?" he says teasingly.

You playfully roll your eyes and pick out the matching green bottle to the shampoo. The words 'conditioner' are plastered across the bottle. You point out the printing and laugh at Luigi and he laughs back, rolling his eyes.

"ok furbo" (slang for 'smart/quick witted') he playfully hits back. "tell me, baby, what does that mean?"

You turn to face him, a cocky grin tugging on his lips. He manoeuvres your shoulders to face away from him again as he begins to apply the conditioner to the ends of your hair, just as you had taught him.

"Well, maybe if my teacher actually knew what he was talking about I could tell you", You respond, attempting not to laugh, as you spin to face him once more

He winces and playfully grabs at his chest as if he's truly offended at what you have just said. You laugh at his display of fake offense.

"Ok my turn, we have to let the conditioner sit for a minute" You tug Luigi closer to you and push down on his shoulders. He sinks down to his knees under the water and you run your fingers through his curls, making sure they're properly drenched. He reaches up, gripping onto your waist to steady himself. He places a small kiss to your hip bone and looks up at you.

"Use my shampoo. I don't really want my hair smelling like apples", He instructs you.

"aye aye, captain" You playfully mock his bossy tone. You look over at the shelf and buried behind your countless body washes, scrubs and hair products sits a chunky blue bottle. An image of a man holding a huge dumbbell is printed onto the bottle. The words "3-in-1" printed in bold white lettering. You scoff, contemplating burning the bottle, before listening to your better judgement and reaching for it.

"Surely this doesn't actually work. Look use some of this" you say, reaching for a grey bottle with a palm tree printed on it. "It's meant to help with curl definition."

Luigi stares up at you, then the bottle. "Ok, fine". He can't say no to you, no matter how hard he tries. You toss the blue bottle, making a mental note to burn it at the next possible opportunity. You turn the water off before squeezing out some of the new shampoo and begin lathering it into his hair. He tilts his head down to allow you to reach the back of his head too.

"All done, Lu. Let's rinse off" You turn the water back on and Luigi stands up, the two of you begin to rinse your hair under the warm water. Foamy bubbles run down your bodies, onto the floor of the shower and down the drain. You run your hands through you hair, squeezing out all the conditioner, meanwhile Luigi stands behind you, body pressed to yours, rinsing his hair.

You enjoy the quiet intimacy of your naked bodies being so close, touching but not in a sexual way. Luigi enjoys it just as much. Knowing that you will always be there for him to seek comfort from makes him feel so lucky.

You both finish rinsing your hair and then clean your own bodies. Once clean, you stand under the water, facing each other, eyes locked, big cheesy grins spread across both your faces. You step even closer, bodies pressed up against each other.

"I love you" you whisper into his ear. "Ti amo, amore" you whisper again, this time in Italian. Luigi pulls you into him, lifting you off the floor. You wrap your arms and legs around his body and he switches the water off, stepping out of the shower, carrying you with him.

"Ti amo di più". (I love you more) Luigi responds placing you back onto the counter. He reaches for a fluffy towel wrapping your body and rubbing up and down your arms, attempting to keep you warm.

He reaches for another towel, wrapping it around his hips. You stare at him as he does so. Smiling. thinking to yourself how lucky you truly are. Luigi tilts his head down stealing a kiss before carrying you back into the bedroom to continue getting ready for the day ahead.

#luigi mangione x reader #oneshot #luigi x reader #fluff #luigi mangione fluff

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andy-15-07 · 15 hours ago

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Would you do Pedro Pascal x Racer!f!reader

Pedro was invited to go to SNL 50 anniversary. You on other hand, working as racer. You two secretly dating that chemistry got pretty good luckily. You got text from Pedro, He wants you to be his plus one date. You two couldn’t help it. Few moments later, he came to red carpet himself. Then you arrive, your dress was match as his like brown, very stunning and elegant. Pedro couldn’t help look at you. He was proud and very demure. You two pose like matching brown. He gives you great compliments about your dress and came to him. *fluffiness*

(Hope you will write it, thanks and have a good day mwah)

The Actor and the Racer

PAIRING:Pedro Pascal x reader

WORD COUNT: 2423| requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

The buzz of my phone jolted me from a quiet moment in the pit lane just as the afternoon sun dipped low over the racetrack. I glanced down and saw Pedro’s name flashing on the screen—a message that instantly sent my heart into overdrive. “Hey, love,” it read, “I’ve got an invitation to SNL’s 50th Anniversary. I can’t imagine going without you. Will you be my plus one?” In that split second, the roar of engines and the smell of burning rubber faded into the background. I grinned at the thought of this unexpected but thrilling twist, my fingers flying over the screen as I texted back, “Absolutely. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

That evening, as I prepared for the event in my modest yet meticulously chosen dressing room, I couldn’t help but marvel at the serendipity of it all. My dress—a rich, elegant brown gown—was carefully selected to match Pedro’s style, a subtle nod to the intimate language we’d developed over secret rendezvous and shared smiles. Every detail had been chosen with us in mind: the earthy tone symbolized both the strength of our connection and the quiet, unassuming beauty that underpinned our lives far from the glare of public scrutiny.

Stepping out onto the red carpet felt surreal. The flashbulbs of cameras lit up the night as I made my way through a sea of elegant guests. My pulse quickened with anticipation, each step echoing with the promise of a night that was as much a celebration of love as it was of a milestone event. And there, at the beginning of the carpet, stood Pedro—tall, impeccably dressed in a tailored brown suit that spoke of classic style with a modern twist. His dark hair was perfectly in place, and the moment our eyes met, his smile widened into something both demure and undeniably proud.

“You look absolutely stunning,” he said, his voice low and warm as he reached out to gently take my hand. I felt a rush of electricity at his touch, and I couldn’t help but respond, “Thank you, Pedro. I wanted us to match tonight—it feels like our secret signature.” His laugh was soft and genuine. “Well, mission accomplished,” he murmured, and together we struck a pose that caught the attention of every camera. The flashes created a sparkling mosaic around us, yet all I could focus on was the way his eyes lit up as they roamed over my dress, filled with adoration and a hint of mischief.

As we strolled down the carpet, our conversation flowed effortlessly between playful banter and whispered memories. “Do you remember that charity race where we first met?” Pedro asked, a nostalgic lilt in his tone. I laughed, the sound mingling with the ambient hum of the event. “How could I forget? I nearly ran you off the track, and you swooped in to save the day. I still owe you one for that.” His eyes twinkled with amusement. “Oh, you owe me plenty. I’m keeping score,” he teased, and we shared a laugh that felt like a secret known only to us.

The crowd around us seemed to fade away as we delved into memories of our first encounter—an almost disastrous collision turned serendipitous meeting. “I was so convinced I’d lost control, but then you were there, calm and collected,” I recalled, smiling at the recollection. “And you, with your fearless driving, reminded me that life is about taking risks,” Pedro replied. “Every lap, every twist of fate—it all led to this moment,” I added softly, and for a brief instant, our voices were the only sounds in a world otherwise filled with flashing lights and murmurs of celebrity.

Approaching the entrance of the venue, we were immediately swarmed by enthusiastic reporters and well-dressed guests. A bright-eyed interviewer stepped forward, microphone in hand. “Pedro, you look amazing tonight. And who might this stunning lady be?” she asked, her tone both curious and admiring. Pedro squeezed my hand lightly and replied, “This is someone who races through life with as much passion off the track as she does on it. Simply put, she’s extraordinary.” I felt a flush of pride at his words, and when the interviewer pressed further about how we met, Pedro’s smile deepened. “It was a bit of chaos at a charity race—a near miss that turned into a perfect collision of hearts,” he said, and the crowd chuckled along with us, caught up in the warmth of our shared story.

Inside the venue, the elegant decor and the hum of excited chatter created a cocoon of celebration around us. We joined a group of guests at a private table, where the conversation quickly shifted from casual introductions to more intimate exchanges. Over clinking glasses of wine, Pedro leaned in and said quietly, “You know, sometimes I feel like life is just one long, unpredictable race. But every lap with you makes every twist and turn worth it.” I met his gaze, touched by the sincerity in his eyes. “I feel the same. The adrenaline of the track pales in comparison to the joy of being with you,” I replied.

Our table soon became the stage for a lively dialogue. A fellow guest, noticing our ease, asked with a playful grin, “What’s the secret to balancing high-speed races with the glitz of Hollywood events?” Pedro’s eyes danced as he replied, “It’s about knowing when to speed up and when to slow down. With her by my side, I always know when it’s time to hit the brakes and enjoy the ride.” I couldn’t resist adding, “And knowing when to shift gears to match the pace of life.” Laughter erupted around the table, and even amidst the clamor of voices and laughter, our words seemed to create a little bubble of intimacy.

Between sips of wine and bursts of shared laughter, our conversation took on moments of vulnerability. “Sometimes, I worry about how much we have to hide from the world,” Pedro admitted softly, his tone suddenly reflective. “The public sees us as a racer and a famous actor, but they don’t know the quiet moments—the late-night talks, the stolen glances that say everything without a word.” I reached out, touching his hand lightly. “Our secret may be hidden from the world, but it’s loud in our hearts. And that’s all that matters.” His eyes softened, and for a moment, the noise of the room receded into a gentle hum that underscored the truth in his words.

The evening unfolded in a series of delightful exchanges and heartfelt moments. At one point, as we walked along a quieter corridor away from the main event, Pedro stopped to look at me with a serious expression. “I have to ask,” he said, “how do you do it? How do you manage to be both this fearless racer and such a tender soul?” I paused, considering the question before answering with a gentle smile. “I think it’s because I know that after every race, there’s a moment of calm waiting for me—like the moments we share. It’s knowing that no matter how wild the ride, there’s always a soft place to land.” Pedro’s hand tightened around mine as he replied, “You are my safe haven, my constant in this whirlwind life.” His words felt like a promise, a vow that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would always find solace in each other.

At one point during the night, our conversation turned playful as we recounted the details of some of our most memorable misadventures. “Remember that time when your engine was about to give out, and I insisted we take a ‘strategic pit stop’ just to cool down?” Pedro laughed, recalling the chaotic moment with a mixture of amusement and admiration. I joined in the laughter. “How could I forget? I was convinced I was about to crash, and you were there, quipping that a good pit stop is like a good conversation—a chance to regroup and come back stronger.” Pedro grinned and added, “And you, my love, are the most thrilling conversation I’ve ever had.” The playful exchange drew smiles from those around us, but it was the sincerity behind our banter that made every word resonate.

Later, as the night deepened and we found ourselves in a quieter corner of the venue, the energy shifted to a more reflective tone. We stepped out onto a private balcony that overlooked the shimmering city below—a perfect backdrop for a conversation that felt as infinite as the stars above. Pedro leaned on the railing, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “Do you ever think about what the future holds for us?” he asked softly. I moved closer, my hand finding his in the cool night air. “I do,” I admitted, “and I see us continuing this race together—taking every twist and turn as a challenge we overcome hand in hand.” His eyes met mine, filled with a quiet certainty. “No matter how many laps we run, I promise that I’ll always be here, cheering for you, celebrating every victory, and comforting you through every defeat.” I felt my heart swell with gratitude and love. “And I’ll be there, every step of the way, ready to face whatever comes next,” I promised.

In the gentle quiet of that balcony, our dialogue became a tapestry of dreams, fears, and the hope that only true love can inspire. “You know,” Pedro said after a long pause, “I sometimes imagine our lives as one endless race. There will be obstacles, unforeseen detours, and moments when the finish line seems out of reach. But with you, every lap feels like a win.” I squeezed his hand, feeling the warmth of his truth. “And every victory, no matter how small, reminds me that our journey is worth every moment of risk.” His smile was both playful and sincere as he whispered, “Thank you for being my co-pilot in this crazy ride.”

Before we rejoined the festivities inside, a final playful exchange ensued as we paused to take one last photo together under the soft glow of the event’s exit lights. Pedro nudged me lightly. “I still can’t believe that my favorite racer is out here stealing the spotlight with me,” he teased. I laughed and replied, “Well, you know what they say—if you can’t outrun them, match them.” His eyes crinkled with amusement as he said, “I suppose matching is what we do best.” Our laughter mingled with the ambient sounds of the departing crowd, a secret melody that carried the promise of many more shared adventures.

The drive home was a quiet, reflective journey away from the dazzling chaos of the red carpet and the limelight of SNL. In the intimate hum of the car’s engine and the soft strains of our favorite song playing in the background, Pedro reached over and brushed a stray lock of hair from my face. “Every day with you,” he said in a low, earnest tone, “is like a victory lap in a race I never want to end.” I looked at him, my eyes full of unspoken gratitude, and replied, “And every lap with you reminds me just how lucky I am to have found someone who makes life feel so exhilarating, even when the world expects us to be just a racer and an actor.”

There was a long, comfortable silence as we both savored the beauty of that moment—the gentle reassurance that despite the whirlwind of public life, our private moments were our true victory. Pedro’s thumb caressed the back of my hand as he mused, “I can’t wait for our next race, for every twist and turn that life throws at us. With you by my side, I know we can handle anything.” I smiled, the simple truth in his words echoing in my heart. “And I promise to be your lucky charm, your partner on and off the track, every single day.”

In the soft glow of the early morning, as city lights blurred past and the horizon hinted at a new day, I felt a deep contentment. Our conversation had been a perfect blend of humor, nostalgia, and heartfelt promises—a testament to a love that was both fierce and tender, wild and beautifully unguarded. Every word we’d exchanged that night, every laugh and every whispered hope, had woven itself into the fabric of our shared story. It was a story that would continue to unfold lap after lap, through races won and challenges met, in a journey that was as unpredictable as it was deeply cherished.

I knew then, as I drifted into the quiet promise of sleep later that night, that our lives were intertwined in a way that transcended the superficial expectations of fame and the fleeting nature of public adoration. We were two souls racing side by side through life—each twist, each turn, every unexpected detour serving only to draw us closer together. And as the soft hum of the engine merged with the gentle cadence of our laughter, I realized that the real magic wasn’t in the red carpet moments or the glamorous events, but in the countless, unspoken promises we made in between: the secret smiles, the whispered confidences, and the tender touch of a hand that said, “I’m here, always.”

That night at SNL’s 50th Anniversary wasn’t just another glamorous event. It was a celebration of our shared journey—a race that had started with a chance encounter and blossomed into a love that defied expectations. And as we navigated the winding road ahead, filled with the unknown and the exhilarating, I held on to the truth that every lap, every finish line, was a step towards a future where our hearts would always beat as one.

In the quiet moments of the dawn, as the city slowly woke up to a new day, I whispered to myself, “Here’s to every lap we run together, to every victory that fills our hearts, and to a love that races on against all odds.” And somewhere in the soft light of morning, I knew Pedro felt the same—a promise that no matter where life’s unpredictable track led us, we would always find our way back to each other, hand in hand, heart to heart.

The journey wasn’t about winning every race or finishing first—it was about sharing every moment, every laugh, every heartfelt conversation that made our souls sing. And in that unspoken understanding, our love story continued—vivid, relentless, and as breathtaking as the open road at sunrise.

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fake-mouthstatic · 2 days ago

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valentine's day

@bucktommyfluffebruary, day 14. rated G.

💕

"Uh, hi, excuse me?"

Tommy pokes his head around the door of the chopper he's cleaning to see a delivery driver standing just inside the hangar door, holding the biggest bunch of roses Tommy has ever seen.

He smiles, wondering who'd lucked out with such a beautiful Valentine's bouquet.

"Someone's a lucky lady," he says, wiping his hands on a rag before heading over.

The guy looks down at the card.

"Tommy is, apparently. Tommy Kinard?"

read the rest under the cut or on ao3 // other days here

Tommy just stares at him, surprise freezing him to the spot.

"That's me," he says after a moment, voice thick with emotion.

The delivery guy grins at him.

"Someone's a lucky man."

Tommy laughs, feeling the tips of his ears turning pink.

"Yeah," he says, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah, I really am."

He takes the flowers, inhaling the sharp, sweet scent as he thanks the driver and heads to the kitchen to find a vase.

"Wowza," Dee says, a smirk on her freckled face as Tim lets out an impressed whistle.

"Who's the lucky lady, huh?" he asks, gaze flitting between Dee and Captain Clarke before looking back at Tommy expectantly.

"I am," Tommy says, a bright grin breaking across his face. "They're from Evan."

"Damn, Kinard," Dee says, smiling as she punches him playfully on the shoulder. "You must be doing something right for him to send that many roses."

Tommy blushes again; no one had ever sent him flowers before and it makes him feel pleasantly warm all over, makes him feel cherished in a way that he hadn't felt in an awfully long time.

"Oh ho, you've got it baaaad," Tim says, smirking at him over his coffee mug. "That's a got it bad smile."

Tommy shrugs, still grinning as he brings the roses to his nose, smelling them again.

"Yeah, maybe."

"So when do we get to meet him?" Captain Clarke asks as she rummages in a cupboard, apparently looking for something. "You live together right, I feel like it's been long enough to introduce us all."

"You've already met him, haven't you?" Tommy asks, frowning. "When he came for the tour after the cruise ship thing?"

Captain Clarke turns so quickly she smacks her head on the cupboard door.

"Wait- ow, shit - it's the same Evan?" she asks, rubbing her forehead as she stares at him. "The human ball of sunshine that bounced around the place asking questions at a million miles an hour?"

"Do you know a lot of Evans?" Dee asks, smirking as Tim laughs.

"No, I just-" She shakes her head, smiles. "I'd kinda put him down as straight."

Tommy laughs as she turns back to the cupboard, carefully this time.

"Honestly, me too for a start-"

"Aha!" the captain cries triumphantly, turning with a vase in hand. "I knew we had one somewhere."

She passes it over.

"It's nice to see you so happy," she says, smiling sincerely.

Tommy smiles shyly back.

"Happy doesn't begin to cover it."

#don't mind me being two days late over here #bucktommyfluffebruary #char does fluffebruary #char writes a thing #911 #bucktommy

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harpsinfinity · 2 days ago

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Saw your ask in community! My idea; reader and Leon having to hunker down in a building during a zombie attack. Don't know if you can work something steamy but can you give it a happy ending?

Thank you silly, I want to kiss your brain this is such a good idea

NSFW !! ↓↓↓

God damn, saving the presidents daughter was more of a daunting task that you imagined. If the freaky castle you were currently trapped in wasn't enough for you and Leon, were also lucky enough to stuck right in the middle of a zombie attack.

Lucky you !!

It didn't help that you were pressed tight against Leon, considering the tiny room you had to cram into was your only option to avoid the flesh eating creatures

It didn't help that you currently had a big fat crush on him, he was just so handsome, so strong. oh how you wanted nothing more than to bite down on one of his bulky biceps as he rutted into you wildly

But that wasn't something you could think about right now, what you needee to focus on was the current dilemma you were trapped in

You anxiously chewed on your bottom lip,

"Leon ! What are we going to do ?!"

You whisper-shouted to him,

"we're gonna have to wait it out"

You let out a muted groan, leaning against him. Your forehead was millimeters from his chest, you were close enough to bury your face in-between his meaty pecs. But you couldn't, not now.

You froze when a blood curdling scream ripped through the area, belonging to one of the zombies currently occupying where you desperately needed to get past.

The last thing you wanted was to lose yourself or your partner to one of those carnivorous freaks. A muffled grunt comes from above you, Leon's large hands gripping your shoulders.

"god, stay still"

His warm breath hitting the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You mumble a quick apology, his sapphire blue eyes piercing into yours in warning.

The room you were in certainly was cramped, you were sandwiches against him, not that you minded. Your hips were pressed dangerously close together against him, face nearly buried in his chest with his hands planted on the wall either side of your head.

"how long are we supposed to wait..?"

"a while."

"how longs 'a while' ?"

Leon doesn't provide you an answer, he darts his smouldering gaze to a gap in the wooden door Infront of the pair of you

"don't we at least need something to pass the time..?"

You speak before shifting to get comfortable, you hear a sharp breath from Leon. His large hands instantly gripping your hips, the warmth seeping through from his palms

"I told you to stay still"

You swore you felt something begin to poke your thigh, you swallowed the lump in your throat of what you thought it could possibly be. You were thankful for the dim lighting that concealed the rosy hue dusting your cheeks.

"sorry.."

You murmured, the beginnings of your next sentence were interrupted;

"fuck it"

You barley had any time to thing before his lips were on yours, pressing your hips tighter against his. You moaned as you felt his cock grow and strain against your thigh.

Fuck

He felt big..

You rutted against him, the fabric of your quickly dampening panties catching against your twitching clit. The grunt he let out did nothing to help.

Your eyes fluttered closed, a rough hand shoving in your hair to keep your lips pinned to his as his tongue swirled around yours.

Your hands blindly searched for his belt, clumsily undoing the buckle with a metallic clink. He groaned when you tugged the zipper down and began to palm at him.

You could barley fully cup him with your hand, it was maddening. The way his cock throbbed against your hand, copious amounts of pre staining the front of this boxers

His hand covers yours, pressing further into your palm and grinding his leaky cock against it.

"shit, I've been dreaming about this, about you. Dreamin' about it for so long"

He growls between kisses before shoving your hand away and pulling your pants down to your knees, pulling a gasp from you.

He wasted no time tugging down his boxers, his fat cock springing free. He fed it into you, inch by every thick, mouth watering inch.

"ohh- Leon"

You moaned lowly, you didn't need any undead hearing you while you were practically living you dream.

You had to bite down on a particularly whiny moan when one of the prominent veins on his cock caught on your walls.

His mouth captured yours as he began to rut into you wildly, his pace was uneven but that didn't matter. The curved shape of him slammed into your g-spot every time his hips where plush against yours.

When Leon pulled back, he had to swallow a deep groan, watching a string of shared drool form between both of your kiss-swollen, reddend lips.

His bulky arms caged you in, your face flush against his bicep as you finally got to do something you dreamed off for so long.

Your teeth sunk into the muscle, making you moan and muffling the string of them that followed.

Warmth exploded in your body, your walls tightening around his cock, still pulsing and twitching inside of you.

"i-i'm gonna-"

"come for me, fucking come"

He panted in your ear, his thrusts becoming sloppy and messy as he got closer to his own end

In a silent scream, you soaked his cock. You looked heavenly, eyes rolled back and jaw slack with drool seeping from the corner of your lips.

Leon followed suit, groaning in your ear as he filled you up impossibly full. It was like you were in euphoria. This was perfect.

The air was mixed with both of your hot breaths as you panted for air.

"you think they're gone now..?"

You questioned breathlessly, pressing your forehead against Leon's

He nodded

"yeah, they're gone. It's silent out there now"

After cleaning up and managing to conceal the share passion you pair had, you carried on with your mission: to save Ashley

(you couldn't help the giddy feeling in your stomach every now and then, though"

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yandere-sins · 2 days ago

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Hi! Can we get a short story of Dazai being a Pleasure Dom, giving his bound and gagged darling multiple orgasms?

Anything this guy does is pleasureably terrifying isn't it? Thanks for requesting ♥

Warning for fem!darling

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

"Ah--! No...! No more!"

"It's only been like, what? Four times? Come on, you can take one more, darling."

"No--" you mewled, the sound getting stuck in your throat as you felt Dazai's fingers pushing back into your soaked cunt, forcing you to draw in your breath sharply. Everything between your legs felt raw and exhausted, pleading with you to give it a rest. But you couldn't since you weren't the one in control. "Not again! Please, not again!"

Your pleading did nothing to persuade Dazai to stop. Torturously slow, he slipped his middle finger inside, all the way up this knuckle, twisting and churning the juices inside you. After so many orgasms, it was hard to say where your insides started, and the mess ended, but he didn't seem to mind.

The last thing you wanted was to let your captor get you off again and again. Twisting in your restraints, your efforts and strength did nothing to budge the enforced handcuffs Dazai had produced that morning, taking advantage of your sleepiness to force your hands above your head so he'd have free range of your body. He'd been so nonchalant about it as well, slapping his thighs as he announced he'd send you to heaven before slathering his hands in lotion and going to town on you.

You couldn't even remember the order of assaults you endured. Hands, fingers, tongue. A little round vibrator that still made your pussy quiver from within, and then he started right up from the beginning. The massive bulge in his pants was undeniable, his cock twitching and straining to be released. Almost as if your pleasure gave back to Dazai as much as he was giving you. But you were thankful that he hadn't thought about using his cock to fill you up. Who knew if, after all of this deprivation, he could still control himself. But the threat remained.

"I really can't! I can't, no more!" you pleaded frantically, but instead of accepting your refusal, you jerked as Dazai's pointer finger snug inside. His hand clasped over your entrance, palm rubbing up and down your sex, wet and slimy from all the work he had done. His thumb was dangerously close to your clit. The poor thing was beyond disturbed, swollen, and abused. Every touch more would cause as much pain as it would pleasure, and you were ready for neither.

Your brain simply couldn't take it anymore. As if being abducted and held captive wasn't enough, this freak just kept coming up with new ways to torture you. If it wasn't drugs, it was forcing you to play house with him, and his newest idea of bliss: keeping you happy by fucking you out of your mind.

"I got to give you what you deserve, babe. Aren't you going to let me make you come again? Won't you be my good girl?"

"Hngh--! I'm not-- I'm not your good girl!"

"You sure are, can't you hear how wet you are for me?"

Goosebumps erupted all over your skin as Dazai redirected your attention towards the sounds between your legs. All the squelching and popping as he fucked his fingers into your cunt was nauseating. He even slowed down deliberately, letting you hear every admission of wetness as he gradually pushed his fingers in, curling them upwards and spreading your pussy wide open. His doings were bad enough, but witnessing them with all your senses made it so much more despicable.

You just wanted him to stop, although you feared your hips started moving very hesitantly into his provocations, trying to feel more.

Groaning loudly, your head fell back as he applied pressure to your clit, rolling it beneath the tip of his thumb so the intensity would shift like a wave over it. As expected, every zap of pleasure was underlined by the burning pain of a tortured nerve. Yet, it elevated the stimulation even more. Dazai grinned at the torment written on your face, your writhing body only spurring him on more, which caused you to cry out louder in return. There was nothing you could be accused of to deserve this fate. You didn't even remember meeting your captor before he kidnapped you!

And yet, here you were, forcing your eyes to watch your own torture, hoping it would make a difference. It was easy to tune out, but you doubted you could take your mind off while you were hit by countless explosions of sensations every few seconds. Thus, you had to see. Had to witness the cocky grin playing on his lips, the lewd, obsessive darkness swirling in his eyes as Dazai watched you. And you also had to see him fisting your underwear in his free hand, bringing it up to his mouth and nose to take a whiff, dick twitching in his pants as he momentarily stopped his assault.

"You have no idea what you do to me," he sighed as you stared in horror. You didn't, and you didn't want to. However, it might have helped if you two had better understood each other. Regardless, looking into the mind of a psycho would not help your sanity, that much you were sure.

"Will you just stop, you freak!" you yelled at Dazai, drawing in one of your legs, ready to kick him into his stomach. However, faster than you could attack, Dazai had your foot in his hand, your wet panties smothered between his palm and your sole. His grip around the soft tissue of your foot was painfully tight while the fingers lodged in your cunt curled uncomfortably deep. You grit your teeth as best as possible, but eventually, you were forced to yield, releasing the strength from your leg and allowing him to put it down at his side again.

Immediately, Dazai unfurled his fingers inside you again, scissoring them apart for a little to ease the tension before resuming the fucking. You hated how powerless you were, pain threatening to overtake you almost every time you tried to fight. It was the same reason you couldn't resist him for the last four orgasms—he had ways to get his will, and you could only take so much before you'd go insane. You hated him! Hated, hated, hated him!

And yet you moaned and wound yourself like a bitch in heat.

"I don't appreciate you trying to kick me when I'm doing something so nice for you, sweetheart. Guess that means no more talking for you, pity," Dazai mused gloatingly, faking his regret as you arched your back against the attack on your pussy. It only caused more pressure to your clit, beautiful, delicious pressure with his fingers stirring up your inside and the vibrator making you want to scream.

"Wha--?" you managed to say before a soft fabric was slammed between your teeth, Dazai pressing it in deeper and deeper as you tried to spit it out. You struggled in your holds and fought against the gag, but Dazai kept his hand on top of your lips, nails scratching your skin when you tried to shake it off. Now, one hand clasped over your mouth and one on top of your pussy, he held complete control of your body.

Pushing his weight down on you, you were pinned to the mattress as Dazai picked up the speed. You screamed into the gag, the sounds barely as loud as the slobby cacophony from between your legs. Fluids were flying everywhere as Dazai pounded your pussy mercilessly, tears filling your eyes as the overstimulation reached its peak, vibrator, and finger working together in a cruel display of dominance until they finally achieved their goal.

Helplessly, you were pushed over the edge, the crash into overstimulated madness even longer and even more painful than the last four had been. Sound couldn't reach you, the world coming to a complete halt as if time came to a standstill and meaning left your body before everything bounced back, the pain and pleasure, everything at once and like a myriad of slaps all over your body. You were sure you were crying out into the silence of the apartment, but you couldn't hear yourself. Knew your heart was beating like crazy but you didn't even feel it.

Time simply passed, but it didn't register in your head.

When you finally began to see, hear, and feel again, your pussy was free from all the disturbances. Somewhere the little vibrator buzzed on the ground, possibly ejected with your orgasm, and Dazai sat by your head, his cock freed from its prison as he vigorously stroked it.

"You're so beautiful," he mumbled, over and over, compliments raining down on you.

"You did so well! You were absolutely stunning! You are the best, I knew you wouldn't disappoint me! I love you so much! So, so much!"

And with a groan and no other warning, Dazai leaned forward, ripping the underwear he had used as a gag from your mouth before stuffing his cock between your lips. Your eyes widened, but it was already too late countless spurts of bitter, disgusting cum filled your mouth and throat. Your hands moved to grab his hips and push Dazai off you, but you were bitterly reminded of the handcuffs as you couldn't move, and his cock simply slid further and further down your throat.

Dazai's hips jerked with every spurt, he, himself, holding on to the wall behind the bed for his dear life as he mewled and groaned, his joy and your gulping the only sounds you could hear with your head straddled by his thighs. He had slipped into the position almost naturally. As if this had been a choreography you two had done countless times while you barely had enough air to stay conscious.

Finally, after what felt like agonizing minutes, Dazai looked down at you, finding your eyes between his legs, and grinned. A wide, boyish grin that made your blood freeze. For him, this was all a great experience and not the same torture you had endured.

"You did so well," he praised you. "Let me get you sorted, darling. I'll make sure to reward you well for today."

Lifting his hips, it felt like he was popping the plug from a bathtub, his cock moving out while the cum flushed down your throat. Once you were freed, you immediately began to cough, moving your head and getting slapped by the dripping cock hanging just above you, cum smearing everywhere. Dazai merely laughed, finally producing the key to the handcuffs and freeing you.

With your arms barely strong enough to hold themselves up on their own, you pushed him aside, crawling out from under him and away—as far as possible, preferably. But he followed—of course he did—while you coughed out your lungs, fluids getting everywhere.

Catching your face, Dazai helped wipe off the cum from your eyelids so you could see again, your glare not going unnoticed, but his mood was too good to ruin. Instead, he cupped your cheeks, wiping some leftovers from your lips and forcing his thumb between them and your teeth until he had you lick up the spill forcefully.

"I know it was a lot, baby," he muttered compassionately. "But you really did so well, what do you think? One more orgasm next time?"

"Fuck you!" you spat back, following it up with a mixture of spit and cum that landed directly on his cheek.

With a disappointed sigh, Dazai used one hand to swipe it off, licking it from his fingers without even a moment of hesitation. "That's too bad," he commented before his grin widened menacingly.

"Guess we are back to punishing you if you don't like taking your rewards like a good girl."

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lady-z-writes · 3 days ago

Text

Butcher x you

In which Butcher is exhausted, and you suggest a good lay will help 😏

Cw: spanking, language, biting, unprotected sex.

"You look like shit," MM is the first to speak up and Butcher bristles at the comment.

"Big thanks to ya."

"Looks like you haven't slept," Hughie pipes up.

This just earns a glare.

"Have you tried melatonin?"

Butcher just grunts at Annie's suggestion.

"Or booze?" Frenchie pipes up.

"Or sex?" You throw out.

This stops him in his tracks.

Butcher raises an eyebrow at you before waving it off.

"Few nights 'a rough sleep and you lot are just a parade of fuckin' suggestions, huh? M'alright. Sheesh. Let's focus here, yeah?"

The rest of the day goes smooth- but you swear you catch Butcher eyeing you a time or two.

It stirs something in you.

---

Lights out, everyone's going home. Butcher still sits at his desk, thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose.

You approach slowly, like he's a wounded animal.

"You alright?" You ask softly.

"M'alright," he nods, voice deep with exhaustion.

"I was serious, you know? About the sex. Works wonders."

He looks at you, then just beyond you to where the others are leaving. He lets himself give you a once-over.

"Oh, yeah? You offering?" The comment is soft spoken, you almost wonder if you're imagining things.

But he's standing now, towering over you, his presence igniting that desire in you once more. You've fought this for a long time.

You purse your lips, shrug.

"And if so?"

He tsks his tongue. "Dangerous territory you're stepping in, little dove. Very damning."

"I'm just trying to help," you tease, step closer, feeling bold.

"Ah, s'that it?"

You're toe-to-toe now, staring up at him under your lashes.

You bite your lower lip and he watches with hungry eyes and a soft groan. You practically feel the rumble with how close you're standing.

"If not..." you hum with a shrug, about to spin on your heels to leave.

He grabs your arm roughly.

A blink.

A smirk.

And you're pulling his shirt collar, angling up on your toes, crashing his mouth onto yours.

A low groan leaves him and the noise sends chills through you.

Before you realize, he's picking you up, carrying you to the chair, sitting down and letting you straddle him.

His mouth is on your neck and you're squirming a bit at the sensation of his facial hair on you. You feel his erection against you and a wave of confidence jolts through you.

His kisses move to your mouth again. You can't help but moan, grinding against him.

You make quick work of unbuckling and unzipping him. His warm, hard cock in your hand, you feel powerful as you give him a deep stroke.

You think of sucking him off, but it's as if he reads your mind and shifts your hips to press his tip against your opening. He shifts your panties to the side and begins easing into you.

He takes his time, lets you get comfortable before he starts manhandling you. Even though you're in his lap, he's completely in control - adjusting you, hands on your ass and guiding your speed.

It's maddening.

But so, so good.

He's all hands - all growls and deep groans. He leans back, head against the cushion, neck exposed so you pepper kisses and bites all over him.

"Y'wanted this, hm? Riding my cock. Don't think I'm oblivious, love. Gimme some credit. See you crossin' them pretty legs so tight under your desk. I see the way you wanted this."

You nod against his skin, shift your hips to get a deeper grind.

"Biding my time," you agree. "Wanted you so fucking much."

"Mmm...good girl."

The first time you cum, you're in his lap. After that, he still doesn't let you have any control.

He's shoving you up, pressing you back against the couch, spreading your legs again.

You let your hands wander, touch him as much as you're allowed before this whole thing ends and he changes his mind.

He groans when you dig your nails in, spanks you and squeezes your ass so tight you can't help but hiccup a breath.

"Won't be done with you after this," he admits when you notice his thrusts slowing. "Gonna need to revisit."

"Don't go getting my hopes up, Butch," you laugh. "This is what dreams are made of."

"You're damn right. Fucking diabolical."

He ends up coming on your stomach, a breathy moan leaving him as he strokes his cock over you.

Satisfied but so not, you watch him toss a few tissues your way.

"Clean up. We're heading to my place."

You're stunned - even when you're dressed and in his car.

This night...took a turn for the better.

Even better when you're pressed against the shower wall, soap dripping from you both as he kisses and fucks you again.

The hunger for each other calms down a bit when you're dressed in his shirt, laying beside him under the bedsheets.

Your leg draped over him, you press tender kisses to his bare shoulder. The exhaustion hits him quickly once he settles in.

"Now how's about you do me a favor and ride me again, lovey? Nice an' slow."

Of course, you oblige.

Tender kisses and slow thrusts, he's gripping at you, humming filthy things, and enjoying the view. One powerful orgasm later, he's spent.

You never expected him to let you stay. But, he really didn't have much time to kick you out between when you flopped next to him and when he was finally sleeping.

You'll deal with it in the morning, you figure.

Until then, you pull the covers up, shut off the lights, and snuggle into him.

#billy butcher #billy butcher x reader #billy butcher x you #the boys imagine

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stevesgother · 3 days ago

Note

Thanks for taking requests!!! Could we get some subSteve and domreader after a date and she’s driving him crazy with lingerie and maybes he’s handcuffed or can’t touch 😈

omg i'm so glad you asked bc i've had this idea for ages and now i'm finally executing it @doomsdaybby 18+ below the cut!

Pegging your boyfriend wasn't the first idea that came to mind while you were wandering the intimates aisle at Sears, but that's where the night had taken you.

It was something the two of you had talked about briefly in the past. Steve was generally more vanilla where you were more of the experimental type. You always say you'd try anything once.

You never minded that about him though; you'd even go as far as to say you loved it about him. Sex with Steve was always the most intimate and gentle thing you'd ever experienced. Like the two of your souls intertwining and becoming one; full of hand holding and intense eye contact.

"You wanna what?" Steve asks you, eyes a little wide.

"I think you'd like it, Stevie, and if you don't- we'll never do it again, okay?"

When he doesn't say anything, you push a little, "Do you trust me?"

"Of course I do,"

"Then let's try it," you suggest, rubbing his arm in a soothing gesture, "the second you want to stop you can just say, i don't know, pineapple or something."

He nods and your face lights up. How could he ever be expected to say no to such an angel?

That's how Steve ended up tethered firmly to your shared bedframe with two silk ties, as not to hurt his wrists. You had come sauntering out of your bathroom in the sexiest set of white lace lingerie Steve thinks he's ever seen. The cups hold the weight of your breasts perfectly, giving you just enough cleavage for it to still look natural. It was classically elegant and the hottest thing he's ever seen you wear; even complete with a little lace garter secured snugly to your thigh.

You could hear his breath hitch in his throat as you approached him. One knee at a time, you moved to straddle him on the bed as seductively as possible.

He already looked like a disheveled mess-- his hair mussed in all different directions and a pink tinge spreading from his sternum all the way to the tips of his ears. You leaned down and pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses along that very path before reaching his ear and whispering, "Breathe, baby."

He makes a concerted effort to control his breaths. Out of nervousness or excitement, he's not sure.

You begin by kissing a path from his earlobe to his mouth, deepening the kiss with you tongue once you reach his waiting lips. His instinct is to touch you-- to rove his hands up and down your thighs or grope your breasts, but his hands are met with immediate resistance when he tries to.

You don't flag him for it, trying to go easy on him; simply continuing your ministrations on his mouth and starting a low grind of your hips over his pelvis.

He whines into your open mouth, clearly feeling impatient despite his earlier trepidation, so you lick and kiss a path down his chest-- stopping to swirl a tongue around his perked nipple. You've never done that before, and it sends Steve reeling. His hips buck involuntarily and a whimper of your name escapes him.

"Do-- Do that again," he pants, so you do.

You conclude your journey down his torso by mouthing at his waiting length through his briefs. Again, he tries to fist his hand in your hair before remembering that he cannot and huffing in frusteration.

"I know, poor baby," you mock pout at him, though you really do feel some level of sympathy for his current predicament-- despite your knowledge of how much he'll enjoy what comes next.

You pull his boxers down his hairy thighs, letting his cock spring free. Just from some heavy petting, he's already leaking and a shade of fiery red. He groans deep in his chest as you take his tip in your wet mouth, swirling your deft tongue along his slick and collecting the pearling precum there.

You hum and moan some of your own, knowing just how delicious the vibrations will feel against his shaft. His chest heaves up and down more quickly now, so you decide to check in.

"How're you doin' love? This okay?"

"Yes--" he breathes, "More, please,"

"So polite," you smile before taking his length as far into your throat as it can physically go.

As you bob up and down on his length, your nose brushing the thatch of hair at his base with every downward stroke, you bring a finger to the space between his cheeks; circling experimentally. You didn't want to warn him first and make him more anxious, and he jolts at the sensation.

"Relax, Steve," you hush, "I promise it'll feel so good,"

He trusts you with ever microfiber of his being, so he let's you continue without question. He hasn't been this nervous for sex with you since your first time together.

You bring your index and middle fingers to your lips and suck them into your mouth, getting them properly soaked before bringing them back to his hole and continuing your efforts. His cock tenses and jumps when you breach his entrance just slightly.

"You still with me?" You ask, "This okay?"

"Mhm--" he responds, eyes pinched tightly closed, "Feels good,"

"Let me grab some lube,"

You reach over to the bedside table next to Steve's head and his eyes follow you the entire time. When you acquire the bottle, you pop the top open and squeeze a generous amount onto your fingers.

"Gonna be a little cold," you warn.

Only once you're deemed slippery enough do you take your index finger and fully sheath him on it.

"H--oh, that's good, baby, keep going," he moans from where he lays in front of you on the bed.

You spend close to fifteen minutes just like that. Easing him onto your fingers while mouthing over his cock. Eventually you stop touching him there altogether, only focusing on where your fingers are knuckle-deep inside him. You begin to pump them in and out a bit faster now that he's had a chance to acclimate.

"Good boy," you praise and he whines instantly. You'll be locking that away for future use. "Want you to come like this, think you can do that for me?" You ask in the most sultry voice you can muster despite how wet you're growing between your own legs. Watching him unravel like this might be the sexiest thing you've ever done.

"Yeah, baby-- don't stop," tears begin to brim his lashes, and you can't help but take some pity on him. Your free hand comes up to massage his sac as you continue your work on his ass.

You've never seen anyone come untouched before, let alone Steve, but here you think it actually might happen. So you add one more finger to give him that final push over the edge of ecstasy.

"Ahh!" He cries out and his cock tense that much more, "Gonna come baby, you're gonna make me--" he can't even finish his sentence with the pleasure you're giving him right now.

You bring your mouth to replace your hands on his balls and that's it. The coil in his belly twists beyond it's snapping point and he's coming undone with a shout. It only spurs you on more.

Once he's rode out his high, you pull your fingers from him and he writhes with overstimulation. You crawl your way up his body, peppering his damp skin with kisses as you go.

"You did so good, Stevie," you praise, "love you so much,"

"Love you too, baby," he breathes as he plants a languid kiss against your lips. You can feel his grin against your skin.

"Can you untie me?" He chuckles and glances to where he's still attached to the bedpost.

"Oh, yeah, obviously,"

The second he's free he envelopes you in a suffocating embrace. In any other circumstance, Steve is the giver. You're just glad you were able to give him a taste of what he's always given you.

#steve harrington fluff #steve x reader #steve harrington x reader #stranger things series #series #steve harrington #steve harrington angst #stranger things #joe keery #steve harrington smut #joseph david keery #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington imagine #smut #steve harrington one shot #one shot #oneshot #fluff #request

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dsireland86 · 3 days ago

Note

Can we get some more best friend/roommate Noah?? Pleaseeee <333

More Than Just A Roommate But Still My Best Friend

Tag list:

@philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @thisbicc @lacy1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @mrsnoahsebastian @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @rumoured-whispers @myownthoughts12 @sister-sebastian @missduffsblog @bngurngheart @somebodyllelse @xxkittenkissesxx @dizzylmwahh @kenjipepsi1 @blackveilomens @chey-h @disappearintothegrey @jilliemiw86 @pathion @fear-its-beauty @an0mallly @potterheadquinn @flowery-mess @bloody-spades

It's warm in the hoodie and under the blanket, snuggled up on the couch watching TV. The weather said the snow would start around three, so trusting your better judgment, you chose to stay home from work. There was no chance you were risking your neck for a job that you hated.

"Guess who?" You sigh but smile and play along anyway. "Mmm, Santa?" "Nope. Guess again." "Mmm, the Grinch?" "Seriously? You and your Christmas obsession."

Yanking the hands away that are covering your eyes, you turn and look at the face behind you.

"I knew it was you the whole time, Noah." Noah smirks, bopping you on the nose. "Sure you did." "Dude! You're the only one here!" Noah cocks an eyebrow. "Am I? Are you sure about that?" You pause and look around the living room, skeptical of your assumption. "I'm just messing with you, babe, relax."

You slump your shoulders and sit back against the couch, pulling the blanket up to your chest, warmed by the familiar nickname. You've known Noah for most of your life and has been your brother's best friend since early high school until dropping out and forcing Nick to finish on his own. But that's where you came in. Noah stayed relevant in your family's life because the two of you grew a friendship that blossomed into a relationship that was pretty much unbreakable.

But as the years went by and your brother's little metal garage band got successfully big, Noah hit a massive growth spurt, and before you knew it, he was cutting his long brown hair that he used to let you braid, taking up jujitsu, and working out. Overnight, Noah went from skinny ass white boy to "Oh my god, look at him!" You pretended not to notice, acting like you weren't turned on every time Noah was shirtless or would casually change in front of you in a hurry during shows (thankful only stripping down to his underwear). He'd look at you looking at him and give you that smile that would send the butterflies in your tummy fluttering like crazy. But you'd always look away quickly, scared that he'd notice the way he was making you feel. But it was just Noah. He shouldn't have been making you feel any certain way.

"Wait. Is that my favorite hoodie?" Noah pulls the blanket down, breaking your train of thought and revealing his "Hereditary" hoodie you’ve confiscated. "You little thief," Noah chides. "I've been looking for that hoodie for weeks." "Lier! It is not your favorite!" "It's one of them." "Whatever. But it has not been weeks! I've only had it for... for..." you stop to think. "Shit. Okay, fine! I've had it for weeks. Shut up." You pull the hood up over your head and sink into its deep pocket of comfort.

"It's fine. Looks better on you anyway," Noah smiles, taking the spot next to you on the couch. You stretch your legs out over his lap, and he loops his long, noodle arms around them and begins to rub your sock covered feet.

"You really need new socks." "What's wrong with my "Demon Slayer" socks?" straining your neck to look at your feet. Noah pokes his finger through a hole on the bottom of your sock, tickling your foot. You giggle, squeezing your eyes closed and laughing hard. "Stop! Okay! I'll get a new pair." Noah's laugh fades, but his eyes stay on you, lingering a few seconds too long. You notice, and the way he shyly looks away "Don't bother. I already ordered you some." Your smile turns tight-lipped. "Awe, how sweet. You really do care!" Noah rolls his eyes and hits you in the face with the pillow next to him.

For the next few minutes, the two of you sit in silence, watching Frodo and Sam cross The Dead Marshes when you get a message from Folio telling you that their flight has been canceled because of the snowstorm.

"Matt says their flight's been canceled and has no idea when the next one is." "Yeah, I just got a message from Folio saying the same thing. This freaking sucks." "Yeah, it sure does," Noah agrees, tapping your legs. "Let me up." You slide your legs off his lap, and he gets up, walking over to the window and looking out. "Anything?"Noah shakes his head. "Nothing yet." He turns back and looks at you. "Think maybe we should head out now while it's still clear and grab some extra stuff?"

"Like what?" dreading the idea of having to face the god awful cold. "Water. Batteries. Flashlights." "Noah, we have like five flashlights already." He pauses to think. "More flash lights couldn't hurt," he states, lifting his eyebrows and shrugging. You groan. "Awe, Pretty Princess just doesn't want to go out in the cold, does she?" Noah walks back over to the couch and stands over you, looking down. Over the years, you've caught him staring at you, but not like this. The look in his eyes that you're seeing right now is different. He reaches his hands out to you and pulls you up, wrapping his arms around your waist, picking you up, and throwing you over his shoulder. "What the.... Noah!" Lightly smacking your butt, Noah carries you into the kitchen and sits you on the countertop. "Stay," he orders, walking away. You huff, folding your arms over your chest in frustration. Noah comes back a moment later with your shoes.

"Awe, no! I don't wanna go, Noah!" "Shush. Put your shoes on." "No." "What do you mean no?" "No. I'm not putting my shoes on because I don't want to go and you can't make me." Noah's scowls, irritated that you're not cooperating with him. "I can't make you, huh? Is that what you think?" You turn your nose up at him, hearing his quiet, huffed laugh. "Is that what you think? That I can't make you?" Glancing at him, you see the serious look on his face. "Noah, it was a joke. Relax."

You hear the soft hum that leaves him as his eyes find yours, switching between them and your thighs that he suddenly pulls apart. "What are you doing?" you ask nervously, shifting slightly as he positions himself comfortably between your legs. He's so close to you now, closer than he's been in a long time. You can feel his body heat and smell the faint scent of his cologne and deodorant that make you lightheaded as you stare at the picture of a hand holding a gun painted on the front of Noah's band merch hoodie. The complete silence surrounding you makes the tension thick and has your heart racing. It's just Noah. Your roommate. Your best friend. What's wrong with you? Why now, of all times, is your body, your mind reacting to him like this? You take a slow, deep breath as Noah leans in and whispers, "Put your shoes on, now" into your ear as his cheek brushes against yours. It sends a hard shiver rippling throughout your entire body.

Pushing on his chest, you force Noah back a few steps. "Fine," you reluctantly agree, refusing to look him in the eyes now. You hop down and grab the shoes out of his hand. "See, I told you I could make you," he smiles coyly as you hold on to his arm for support. "Shut-up," you scold, slapping him in the stomach and hearing the faint chuckle leave him.

The snow is beautiful, reminding you of back home in Virginia. The weather has changed drastically since you and Noah came back from braving the madness of supply hunting, which, thankful, was successful. As you wait for Noah to finish his shower, you stay planted in your spot on the couch, still wrapped up in his hoodie and your warm blanket. The house is so empty without your family here, and suddenly, you find yourself feeling pretty miserable to the point that you start to cry. You want your brother's warm hugs and Matt's scowl that he gives on just about everything. You want Jolly's loud guitar playing and Folio constantly drumming his fingers on everything, annoying the shit out of you. You want your family, but you can have them right now. Burying your head in your blanket, you let the tears fall as you cry hard. It feels like forever that you stay this way until you feel the arms around you that were destined to be yours before you even existed.

"Hey, come here," Noah coos. Abandoning the blanket, you climb into Noah’s lap, escaping into the warmth and safety of him and burying your face against his chest. Though the tears are still falling, your heart feels less painful. You know that here in the safety of your best friend, everything will be alright. Noah doesn't ask questions or makes you feel stupid. He makes no snarky comment or is irritated. He just holds you, keeping his long arms locked lovingly tight around you, and making you feel like the safest girl in the world. Pulling your hood back, he kisses the top of your head before resting his cheek against it.

"It's okay to cry. You don't have to act so tough all the time." "I don't," you whine, making Noah chuckle. "Okay. Whatever you say, pretty princess." "Why do you keep calling me that!" you yell," shooting up like a bullet. Noah just stares at you wide-eyed. "And what the hell was earlier about?" Noah scowls at you, confused. "What do you mean?" "Earlier, with my shoes and how you got so close to me. You've never done that before." Noah scoffs, trying to hide the fact that you've suddenly made him nervous. "What, I can't be that close to you anymore? All I was asking was for you to put your shoes on. I didn't mean to upset you." You look away, suddenly feeling a little awkward for lashing out like you did. "Did it feel like something more to you?" he hesitantly asks. You don't want to answer out of fear that you probably read the whole thing completely wrong. "No," you lie, getting up to avoid any more questions. You dry your eyes and turn to leave. "Hey, wait," Noah calls out, but you ignore him. "I'm going to go call Nick. Goodnight, Noah."

You sit up in your room, talking to your brother, really wishing he was home with you instead of a million miles away. Nick tells you about how pissed and irritated everyone is and how they should have listened to you and Noah and came when you did. “Me and Jolly are sharing a room and Folio and Matt are sharing the other. Hopefully by morning it’ll be better and we can come home.” Nick throws out a little more small talk then hits you with a curveball you weren’t expecting about this girl that's been driving Noah crazy and how Noah won't stop asking him questions about how to know if the girl likes him or not. "Do you know anything about her?" Nick asks, but you don't answer. Your mind is too far gone thinking about Noah like another girl; a girl that's not you. Someone else for him to spend time with, to hold him, to tell his secrets to and watch anime with. Someone else for Noah to kiss. You think about those lips and how they always form into your favorite smile or how they've kissed your cheeks and forehead sweetly over all the years, and just the thought alone of those kisses and things that have been shared just between the two of you belonging to another girl scares the life out of you. Suddenly, you want to run back downstairs and throw yourself into Noah, locking your arms around him, and never let him go, but instead, you settle for pulling his hoodie closer to you even though you're still wearing it.

"Hey, sis are you listening to me?" Nick's loud voice on the other end calls to you "What? No. I mean, yes, I am. I don't know what you're talking about. I don't know of any girl Noah's talking to." "Damn, okay, easy. I was just asking." You sigh, heavily. A knock on your door interrupts the conversation with Nick, and you tell him you've got to go, yet on the second knock you’re hesitant to open the door.

"I'm sorry." Noah's voice is soft and low. "Please don't be mad at me. I didn't mean to make you... um... well, whatever you were, I didn't mean to make that happen." You can't resist smiling at Noah's poor choice of words."You wanna come outside and look at the snow with me? It's really pretty... like you... pretty princess."

That feeling in your belly hits you again and you think about that girl your brother was talking about. The one who's stolen your Noah from you. The feeling it gives you makes you jump up off the bed and rush to the door, throwing it open. Noah takes a step back the moment the door swings open and he sees you looking freaked out and panicked.

"Hey, what's wrong? Are you okay, babe? Is Nick okay?" "Um, yeah. He's good. I'm fine. You said something about going outside to look at the snow?"

Noah isn't convinced. As your best friend, he shouldn't be. He knows you too well. But he doesn't press the matter further, only offers you his hand. Looking up at his beenie, you smile. It's the one you got him for Christmas two years ago as a joke, the white one with the cute little mice circling the outside of it; the one that had become one of his favorites. You take his hand and let him pull you into his embrace as you inhale the scent of him. It's your favorite scent in the world. The one that reminds you of home. You tear up at the thought of the other girl again and what she has or has done that made Noah fall for her.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you." You look up at him and smile. "I'm sorry, too. You didn't hurt me, Noah. I overreacted." Noah's shoulders relax and he gives a light, huffed laugh. "Let's go," he says, leading you down the stairs and out the front door.

The night is dead quiet. Nothing can be heard except the faint barking of some dogs and a siren miles away. Street lights light up the street, casting a yellow glow over the freshly fallen snow. You can see your breath, proof of just how cold it is. Noah was right. This is beautiful. Your own private winter wonderland. "What do you think?" he asks quietly, still holding your hand. You shiver from a cold chill, and Noah notices. "Hang on," he says, letting go of your hand and walking back inside the house. He emerges quickly with your big, soft blanket and wraps it around you comfortably, leaving his arms locked around you. The cold immediately goes away, being replaced by the warmth of the arms around you as you relax into Noah's embrace. You stay this way for a little while, neither one of you feeling the need to say anything.

"So?" "So." "It's kind of pretty, right?" You shrug. “Come on," he says, taking you by the hand and walking you out into the cold, soft snow. You haven’t seen snow in so long and just have to touch it, but draw back instantly over how cold it is. "Hell, no!" Noah laughs. "What? You don't like it?" He picks up a little bit and forms it into a ball. "Not at all," you grimace, causing Noah to laugh some more. "It is pretty, though." "Yeah, it is. It's beautiful," you agree. "Just like you." Your body stiffens. That's the third time he's made a comment about your looks. If he's talking to another girl, you can't allow him to continue to say these things, no matter how much you want him to.

"Stop saying that." "What? That you're beautiful?" "Yeah." "Why?" "Because." "Because isn't an answer. It's a statement. Why don't you want me to say you're beautiful?" Huffing with irritation that you have to spell it out for him, you tell Noah what you already know. "Because it's not fair to the girl you're talking to." The silence around you is deafening. Noah doesn't move and judging by his silence, you know there really is someone else. But his response surprises you. "What are you talking about? What girl?" "You know, the one you keep driving Nick crazy with. The one you won't stop asking him for help with.” You hear Noah groan, but he doesn't let you go. "I'm going to fucking wring his damn neck when he gets home," he vows through clenched teeth. "Who? Nick?" You try to turn and face Noah, but he still has his arms locked tightly around you. "Yeah, Nick." "Why? He was just asking if I'd met her or not." There was an awkward silence. "You already know her," Noah finally confesses, quietly. He loosens his grip and you're able to turn and look at him. "What? What do you mean I already know her? I've barely seen you with any girls. Just me. I'm starting to think if the rumors are true and you are actually gay." Noah's face breaks into a wide smile as he laughs, making you giggle too, breaking the tension. "I'm not fucking, gay, you ass. Far from it." "Then how do I already know this girl you've been talking to?" Noah's eyes dart between yours as they soften and fill with a look you're sure you've never seen before. It's a look you've only ever dreamed about, a look you'd give anything for if the right guy would look at you the same way. It's the look of love. "Because, Princess, it's you," Noah confesses quietly. "It's always been you."

Your entire head spins out of control, trying to comprehend what Noah is telling you. Is he saying that you're the girl who's been driving you to the brink of insanity with jealousy and fear for the last hour? "What do you mean it's me?" "It's you. You're the one I want. You're the one I want to come home to after a long ass tour and take out on cute little dates that make you happy, the one I always get to go on adventures and have fun with." Noah pulls your blanket off and caresses your face, cupping it and running his thumbs across your cheek bones. His touch feels different, and it's a really good different. "You're the one I want to stay in with for the night, watching movies and eating our favorite food before we end up making out and forgetting about all of it. You're the one I want to make happy and to love; to hold on to when times get tough. You're the one I want to be there for when everything in your world comes crashing down. All my good days, all my days, you're the one I want to share them with. It's you, baby. You're it. You're the one."

You're crying now. They're happy tears, but tears nonetheless. Noah smiles, brushing your tears away with his thumbs and pulls you close as he leans down and kisses you sweetly yet with enough passion and want that you whimper. "And I swear to you, I have never been so sure about someone or something in my entire life. It's you, and I say this without a single doubt in my mind."

You're utterly speechless. Nothing is turning out the way you thought it would, and it's left you with so many questions for Noah. Your insides are buzzing around like a hive if bees that's been stired up and don't know which way is in or out. But the way Noah is looking at you, waiting for you to answer, it sends a calmness through you, telling you that things are going to be okay. This man holding you knows you better than anyone. He's been your constant rock since the day you met, and if there's anyone you can think of doing life with, it's Noah.

Standing on your tiptoes, you pull him down and kiss him hungrily, wanting each and every part of his long, toned, lanky body all over you. Noah grips your waist, squeezing you and tugging you towards him until your bodies are pressed tightly together. "I've wanted you for so long, Noah, you have no idea," confessing through a choked up sob. "And when Nick told me you were talking to him about a girl, I got so jealous it was almost unholy." Noah's eyes widen, and he gives you a tight-lipped smile. "I knew something was wrong. I always know." Noah leans in and kisses your nose, feeling how cold it is. "Yes you do. Because you're my best friend." "Well, can a best friend become a boyfriend and still be a best friend?" You take Noah's hand and lace your fingers through his, admiring the contrast of skin color as you play with his fingers. Noah hums in approval. "I could get used to that." "What? Me playing with your hands?" "Among other things," he smirks, raising an eyebrow. "Oh my gosh, Noah!" you cry, playfully shoving him in the shoulder. "I'm kidding. We'll take it slow. There's no rush, is there?" You turn with him and begin walking back towards the door, ready for the warmth of the inside. "No, there isn't," you agree. "Noah?" "Yeah?" "Where does this leave us as roommates?" Noah opens the door for you, ushering you in with his hand on the lower part of you back. "What do you mean?" "Well, I always wanted to know what it would be like waking up to your cute face in the morning, and now that I can, I'm not sure if I'll ever want to sleep on my own again." "Are you saying you want to move in with me?" The grin that spreads wide over Noah's face makes your heart race. "I don't know. Am I?" "I think," Noah begins, leaning in and leaving a trail of kisses along your jawline, "that maybe we should go upstairs and see whose room would work best, hmm?" Quicker than a heartbeat, Noah moves away from you, leaving you to contemplate his suggestion. "Hey! Wh... that's not fair!" you yell after him. "Then come and get me and make me pay for my crime, Roomie!" he yells back, heading for the stairs. "If you catch me before I reach the top, there might be a reward. Better hurry, Roomie. I have long legs!" Growling in frustration, you take off running through the house with the intention of never catching him.

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian one shot #noah sebastian fan fiction #bad omens band #bad omens cult #bad omens #bad omens fanfiction

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pellaaearien · 3 days ago

Text

Here With Me (Chapter 7)

Dreamling | E | (no more) Edging, Caretaking, Porn With Plot | ~20k total

In the end, Hob needn’t have worried. The innkeeper accepts or else doesn’t care to examine their story about being a noble and his retainer accosted on the road, willing to accept the gold thread running through Burgess’ rich tunic in exchange for room, board, and some actual clothes for Dream.

“And medical supplies, if you please.” Dream speaks up, his voice shaky but resolute. “Some bandages, and salve if you have it.” Hob looks at Dream in surprise, but the innkeep just nods.

“I’ll send some up with my girl,” he says gruffly, and they hasten to their quarters before they can make more of a scene. The fewer people who can remember the strange travellers, the better.

“I’d rather you have warmer clothes,” is the first thing out of Hob’s mouth, once the door closes behind them. It’s not what he’d been intending to say, but salve especially won’t come cheap. “I don’t know how long we’re going to be on the road, and—”

“And I’d rather you not die,” Dream snaps, whirling on him fiercely, eyes flashing. Hob swallows the rest of his words. “I… I thought I had lost you.” He wraps his arms around himself, and Hob lurches to embrace him.

“I wish never to know such a feeling again,” Dream says into his shoulder.

“Dream—”

They’re interrupted by a knock at the door. Hob opens it, feeling antsy about having strangers around Dream. The girl is shy, however, keeping her eyes downcast as she deposits her burden of hot water, bandages, and a jar of salve.

“Thank you,” Hob says, and she jumps at being addressed, nodding quickly.

“I’ll be up with the clothes soon, m’lords,” she says, and takes her leave before Hob can say anything more. Hob sighs, and turns to find that Dream has already uncorked the salve, and is sniffing at it.

“Does it meet with your approval?” he teases. Dream gives him a withering look, and Hob grins. Dream wasn’t the only one who’d feared that they would never see each other again, and the relief is hitting him in waves.

When he removes his bandages, Dream makes a small sound, leaning forward, hovering his fingers over the gash.

“I’ll heal,” Hob assures him. “I’d have taken worse, to know you’re safe.”

Dream’s hands clench in his lap. “You should not have had to.”

“Dream.” Hob cups Dream’s cheek tenderly. “I knew what I was getting into when I swore my life to your service. I’m just sorry I couldn’t do more.”

“Don’t say that!” Dream says, grabbing his hand between both of his. “You’ve done so much, all for me, and I—”

“Shh.” Hob rests his forehead against Dream’s, ignoring the twinge of pain. “No regrets. I’d have done it even if you hadn’t asked.” It was all worth it, just to be near him.

Dream sighs. “I do not deserve you, Hob Gadling.”

Yes, you do! Hob wants to say. You more than anyone! But he thinks better of it. He won’t be another in the long line of people who have convinced Dream that he needs to earn his place.

“I get to decide that, love,” he says instead. “And it’s a decision I made on the very first day I met you.”

Dream looks away, dipping a cloth in the steaming water in lieu of answering. Hob hisses as he begins to tenderly wash his wound.

“You needn’t—” Hob begins, before breaking off at the fierce glare Dream fixes him with.

“I do.” His tone brooks no argument. Hob subsides. It feels wrong, so wrong, to have Dream taking care of him, but he can’t help but melt into it.

In the end, the spelled thread is merely pulled, not torn, and doesn't need to be resewn, certainly not by anyone with their amount of medical knowledge. Hob’s bandages are deftly rewound by Dream, who presses a kiss to the wound afterwards, as Hob holds back tears.

The innkeeper’s girl returns, bringing a bundle of clothes and a pot of stew. Hob doesn’t want to question where they got the clothes on such short notice, but the girl provides the information herself.

“They were my brother’s,” she says quietly, glancing at Dream out of the corner of her eye. “He died at the front.”

“I’m sorry,” Hob says, finding that he means it. Burgess’ people bear no blame for his wars. She nods, and departs, a certain understanding reached, though that doesn’t mean Hob is in a hurry to reveal their identity. He can only pray that they are far enough away not to implicate these people, should they be discovered. Dream puts the dead man’s clothes on wordlessly. They’re an almost perfect fit.

It’s later, after they’ve eaten and rested, that Hob wakes from a couple of hours’ sleep to find Dream no longer next to him in bed, but standing next to the tiny glazed window, hugging his arms to himself. Hob immediately sits up; Dream turns his head but doesn’t look at him.

“Hob.” Dream’s voice is velvet in the moonlit room. “I need you.” He swallows. The light is so bright Hob can trace the line of his throat. “I need you to make it so I’m not the oracle any more.”

The words hit Hob like a thunderclap, despite their quiet volume. Logically, he knows that this is an important step in their plan, and the sooner the better, so that Dream’s powers can no longer be used against them. In his illogical chest, his heart is pounding loud enough Dream can probably hear it from across the room.

He had long since resigned himself to the knowledge that he would never properly make love to Dream. The vague idea of falling from grace, of failing to stop in time, removing that barrier to being fully together, had been the stuff of his darkest fantasies. He’d known it would never happen. Dream had asked him to be his knight, and so that’s what Hob would be, until he died of it.

Now, Dream was asking something else. And rather than jumping at the chance, Hob needed a minute to catch up, to coax his deepest desires from the darkness and assure them it was safe to come out.

“I do not wish to injure you further,” Dream says, still not looking at him. “But I fear, if I do not do this now…”

Then I never will, Hob finishes for him. He understands completely. “C’mere, dove,” he says, holding out his arms. Dream inches closer, until he melts into his arms with a sigh, bone-cracking tension leeching from his body. Hob holds him close. He can’t imagine what’s going through Dream’s head in this moment, as he contemplates giving up the thing that has defined his entire life.

“Dream,” Hob murmurs into his shock of hair. “Of course I will. If it’s what you really want.” There can be no going back, not after this. While that might be the point, that doesn’t make it any easier.

“I—” Dream’s voice is muffled by his shoulder. “I do not know if this is what you would have chosen. If I—”

“Listen to me.” Hob holds Dream’s face in his hands, pulls back until Dream meets his eyes. “You never forced anything on me. I chose to follow, chose with both eyes wide open, and do you know why?”

Dream shakes his head the tiniest amount, constrained by Hob’s grip, his eyes wide and so, so blue.

“Because how could I let anyone else touch you? Bring you pleasure? Of course I chose you. Who else could it be, but you?”

There’s a taste of salt against his lips, and it’s a long moment before he realises Dream is crying as he kisses him. Despite living as close as two people could be, they have never kissed like this before. Such romantic gestures were for normal people, with normal lives, serving only to remind them of what they couldn’t have.

No longer. The kiss is messy, wet, and perfect, neither of them quite sure what they’re doing but unwilling to stop. The play of Dream’s plush lips against his own is something Hob had never even thought to imagine, and he is instantly addicted.

“Oh, love,” he whispers against Dream’s skin, against the tiny noises and puffs of air Dream makes as he seeks his lips again. “I’m going to make you feel so good. I’m going to take such good care of you.”

“Please.” Dream nods frantically, and Hob’s blood is roaring in his veins at the thought of finally giving into that plea.

He lays Dream gently down on the bed, one of their straw pillows for his head and one for his hips. Dream deserves mountains of pillows, silks and goosedown, every possible luxury. But this is what they have, so Hob will make do.

The tension in Dream’s frame is back; Hob bends to kiss him, tracing his lips with his tongue (inspired by the thought of a very similar act) until Dream opens for him, gasping and arching. Hob soothes him with soft touches, stroking his hair and sides.

“Hob,” Dream breathes, hips already canting. It’s much more familiar territory, but Hob still takes a moment, pressing his forehead to Dream’s.

“We have all the time in the world,” he says. He will make it true. “There’s no need to rush. I refuse to do anything that will hurt you.” He runs his hands down Dream’s arms, waiting for his nod of permission before pulling off his shirt, then caressing the skin that is revealed. The spread of both of his hands nearly encompasses the width of Dream’s torso.

“Look at me,” he says, and Dream does, the trust in his eyes flaying Hob’s chest open. “I promise you, I won’t stop.” Dream’s breath catches. “Not unless you ask me to. Not until it’s over.” No more ruined orgasms. Dream nods, wordless. Hob cups his cheek. “That means, if I do anything that doesn’t bring you utmost pleasure,” here his voice turns stern, “I need you to tell me.” He knows Dream would stubbornly and stoically bear anything it took, now that his mind is made up. He’s been doing it all his life. That doesn’t mean that this experience shouldn’t be as close to perfect as Hob can make it. “I could never live with myself if I hurt you.” His voice breaks, and Dream grips his arm. “Promise me.”

Dream nods, solemn. “I promise, Hob.”

In spite of everything, Hob smiles. “Okay, then.” He kisses Dream again, because he can, and because he thinks if he stops kissing Dream for more than a few minutes he might die. Dream melts into it, hands lighting tentatively on Hob’s skin in turn, his shoulders and back, and this, too, is new, and strange, and wonderful. There’s no one to see, here. No one to wonder if their hands are hiding something. No need to keep Dream exposed. Dream touches him, and Hob feels like he could fly.

He thumbs at Dream’s nipples, pink and perfect, swallowing the keening noise he elicits. He replaces his thumbs with his mouth, licking and sucking, as Dream takes in a shuddering gasp above him. His lovely Dream, still so sensitive, even after all this time.

“You're so beautiful,” he says brokenly, looking down at Dream moonwashed in their bed.

Dream bites his lip, somehow managing to look both coquettish and nervous. “They call my prophecy a gift from the gods,” he says. “But I think their true gift was bringing us together.”

Hob can’t help but agree.

“I know I have… asked the impossible of you,” Dream says, not quite meeting his eyes. “And now I must ask yet more, for once again I cannot embark on the path I have chosen without you.”

“Not impossible,” Hob murmurs, kissing Dream again and replacing the teeth at his lip with his own. “We made it, Dream. We’re here together. And I’m not going anywhere without you.”

Dream takes a deep breath, and smiles. Hob’s heart flips over in his chest. When was the last time he saw Dream smile?

“Very well, Hob Gadling,” he says, looking up at him from under his lashes. “Then prove it. Make me yours, and not the oracle. Make me… Make me come on your cock.”

He hesitates slightly over the unaccustomed filth, and Hob credits years of self-denial with the fact that he didn’t come on the spot, hearing those words in Dream’s voice.

“As you wish, my love,” he manages, strangled. To that end, he leaves a trail of open-mouthed kisses down Dream’s chest, tasting at his sternum, his navel.

“Hob,” Dream begins uncertainly, but Hob soothes him, running his thumbs over his hips, then lower, dragging a finger through his folds. Dream shivers.

“Already so wet,” Hob says in wonder. What a miracle, to have this gorgeous creature willing and wanting for him. “You’ll get what you want.” He kisses Dream’s upper thighs. “I’m going to get you ready first.” There had been no rule requiring Hob to keep chaste, but as the thought of lying with anyone other than Dream had been abhorrent, he has no particular experience with what Dream needs. However, given that Dream has never taken so much as a finger before, he can infer.

And there had been talk. There was always talk, whether the speakers had known Hob was in earshot or not. Defiling the oracle was the height of taboo and therefore a pervasive fantasy.

Well, Dream was his. And he would do everything in his power to care for him.

Dream nods, his eyes enormous, and that’s the last he sees of Dream’s face for some time as he licks between his legs.

Hob brings all of his well-earned skill to bear, everything that makes Dream sing out sweet sounds above him, and it’s so much like every other time, only everything is different. When Hob judges the time is right, he slowly, carefully, slips the tip of his tongue into Dream.

“Ah!” Dream’s exclamations increase in intensity, and he thinks they both need a moment. He raises his head, licking his lips of Dream’s sweet ambrosia. Dream is gripping Hob’s wrists for dear life and looks up hungrily, his pupils dilated.

“All right, love?” Hob makes himself ask. Dream is nodding before he finishes.

“More,” he demands, and who is Hob to deny him? He bends down, daring to press his tongue a little further. Their surroundings make it easy to remember that now his goal is to bring about what had once been forbidden. He exists in a sort of in-between place of what has always been his job — bringing Dream pleasure — and the constant anticipation as he crosses line after line in preparation to break, at last, his former vow.

Dream’s body responds to him just as it always has, and Hob can only pray that he can provide enough stimulus to get him completely out of his head. He wants Dream to have no regrets, only joy.

Finally, when he has worked his tongue as far into Dream as it will go, and his jaw is starting to ache, he regretfully withdraws, Dream’s fluids coating his chin. Dream is panting, staring at the ceiling, though he looks hoodedly at Hob as he registers the pause. He’s nowhere near climax, but the lines of his body are softer, and it heartens Hob to see. He kisses Dream deeply, and it isn’t until Dream’s shuddering moan that he realises Dream would never have had occasion to taste himself before.

“You like that, sweetheart?” Hob’s voice is rough, tuned low with lust. “Gods, you taste divine. Always have.”

“Hob,” Dream whispers. So far, despite it all, it’s nothing they couldn’t take back, if they had to. Hob intends to take them over that line, as promised, but he’s bringing Dream with him every step of the way.

“Still doing all right?” He feels compelled to check in, though Dream is showing no signs of distress. He strokes a hand through Dream’s wild hair. Dream leans into it, like gentling a spooked horse.

“I am… well,” Dream answers. Hob would have hoped to be doing better than that, but he accepts it for now.

“I have never told you,” and there is a spark of mischief in Dream’s eyes, “how much I enjoy your tongue.”

Hob, for his part, is struck speechless. Of course he hadn’t. Why would he? It was a job. But now he just wants to lay himself out in worship again.

He swallows hard and sticks to his plan. “I’m going to start with fingers now, okay love?”

Dream takes in a shaky breath and nods. Hob kisses him again in reassurance, waiting, he realises belatedly, for Dream to tell him to stop, to take it back. But he doesn’t, and Hob has promised. So he continues, bestowing another lick and earning another shiver, before he slowly, gently, slides a finger into Dream.

The way is easy and slick, but Dream still gasps at the intrusion, screwing his eyes shut and almost, almost pulls away, before he masters himself and relaxes. Hob doesn’t move his hand a single inch, he just waits, stroking Dream’s hair.

“Shh, darling, that’s it, you’re doing so well,” he murmurs. “Just relax. No rush, nothing you need to do. Take your time.”

Several deep breaths later, Dream opens his eyes. There are tears clinging to his lashes, devastatingly gorgeous. His hands occupied, Hob kisses them away.

“Hob, I…” Dream says at length, and though Hob waits, it seems Dream has no more words to say. He presses their foreheads together and they share breaths.

“I know,” Hob says. “It’s a lot. Do you want me to stop?”

The shake of Dream’s head is small, but immediate. “Do not,” he says for good measure, and Hob feels better. “I am just…”

Again, he fails to finish the sentence, but Hob understands.

“I have you,” he says. “And you’ll always have me, Dream. No matter what.”

“Hob.” Dream pulls him down into a kiss. At the same time, he twists his hips, taking Hob’s finger even deeper. Hob gives a startled moan.

“Please, Hob,” Dream prompts. Hob nods.

“Okay, love,” he says. “We’ll take it slow.”

Too concerned with Dream’s comfort, he hasn’t really taken the time to process that his finger is now inside Dream, but he does now, exploring with slow circles while Dream takes shaky, hitching breaths.

“You’re amazing,” Hob says, overwhelmed. “So soft and warm and perfect. How lucky am I that I get to be here, doing this?”

“Hob,” Dream whimpers, arching his back.

“That’s it, love.” Unable to resist the temptation of those pert pink buds, he has to get his mouth on them again, and Dream collapses to the bed, whining. Hob uses the distraction to inch a second finger into Dream.

It’s a tighter fit, and Dream’s breath hisses. Hob pulls back, rubbing tiny circles on Dream’s clit with his thumb. His fingers stay where they are.

“You’re doing great,” he says, as Dream writhes and pants. “You’re so tight, but that’s okay, love. We’ll get you nice and loose and open so you can take my cock.” Dream lets out a moan. “You want that, right?” Dream nods desperately. “Okay. We’ll get you there.”

“Hob,” Dream gasps out. “Hob, I’m afraid.”

Hob stills, but doesn’t stop, running his free hand up and down Dream’s side soothingly. “What are you afraid of, my heart?”

“I—” Dream’s cheeks, already flushed, blush a deeper red. “I’m afraid you’ll stop,” he admits, and Hob opens his mouth, but Dream rushes on. “I’m afraid I’ll come too soon.” His voice is smaller as he says it.

Hob can’t help but kiss him, and is reassured by the way Dream melts into it. “First,” he says, kissing the tip of Dream’s nose, “I promised you I wouldn’t stop, and I keep my promises. Don’t I?” Dream nods again. “That’s right. The only one who can stop me is you, my love.” To prove it, he swivels his fingers inside Dream, who arches again.

“And two,” here he kisses both of Dream’s rosy cheeks, “if you want to come, then come. That’s rather the point of this. You’ll still get my cock, if that’s what you want.” Hob’s wounds had never felt further away from him. “And if you don’t, that’s fine too.” He scissors his fingers a little, and Dream’s legs fall open. “There are no rules, here. Nothing you have to do, except enjoy it, and tell me when you don’t. Yeah?”

He rather thinks Dream won’t come early, given how long he’s spent denied, but doesn’t feel the need to say anything. Far better for Dream to understand that he’s free of any roles or obligations, for what might be the first time in his life.

It’s certainly no hardship to worship Dream’s body, the way he’s always wanted to. It feels like a blessing, like they’ve created a little piece of paradise in this bed, just the two of them. Hob is hard, of course, in his braies, desperately so, but it feels irrelevant, in the moment, to working Dream open enough to take three fingers, which he does with utmost patience, as Dream shudders beneath him on a great inhale.

“Hob,” Dream sighs, eyelids fluttering, sweat standing out on his brow. Hob thinks he’s never looked more beautiful. “No more.” Before Hob can pull back, ask for clarification, Dream fixes him with those stunning blue eyes. “Your cock. Please.”

Hob makes a strangled noise. His absolute imperative not to hurt Dream wars with how on Earth he’s supposed to say no to that.

“Okay, love,” he says, taking a deep breath, slipping his fingers out of Dream, who shivers at the loss. “Okay.” He casts about for the salve, figuring that something meant to heal certainly couldn’t hurt. It’s warm as he spreads it on his fingers, and he imagines it will feel good for Dream.

He slicks up his cock with shaking hands, head ringing like he’s taken a blow to the back of it at the thought of actually putting it inside Dream. Even the lightest touch makes him have to take several more breaths so he doesn’t ruin all his careful preparation. Dream is watching him, apprehension deep in his eyes.

“Hey, Dream, can you breathe for me?” he asks gently, leaning down to pet Dream’s hair with the hand not currently coated in salve. “It’s going to be okay. If you don’t like it, I can make you come without it, or we can stop here for now, if you want. I won’t let anyone make you the oracle again, no matter what. You know that, right?”

Dream, still flushed and glorious, takes a few unsteady breaths. “I do want it,” he says. “I just—” He huffs in frustration.

“Yeah. It’s scary, isn’t it?”

Dream shoots him a look like he thinks Hob’s patronising him. Hob grins. “Feel my hand shaking?” He holds it out for Dream’s inspection. Dream subsides, looking awed. “We’re in this together, my love,” he reminds Dream. “Whatever you want, I’ll find a way to make it happen.”

Before he finishes speaking, Dream leaps, pulling him in for a hungry, biting kiss.

“I love you, Hob Gadling,” he says fiercely, and Hob reels anew. They’ve never said the words, never needed to, Hob thought, until hearing them from Dream now. “I want to be yours. Will you fuck me?”

“Oh, my darling,” Hob says, hardly aware of what he’s saying. “I’m going to make love to you.”

Hob can’t resist kissing him once more before reaching for more salve, slicking himself again before tracing his fingers delicately through Dream’s folds.

Dream keens. “Hob,” is all he says, but in that word is a world of urgency.

“I’ve got you,” Hob whispers, his voice fled under the weight. “Ready now.”

He actually has to try a couple of times, because of how much his hands are shaking, and the amount of fluids between them, but it is a temporary awkwardness. Slowly, carefully, Hob pushes his way into Dream.

They both gasp, at the first breach of muscle. Dream freezes, his entire body tensing, and Hob caresses his hips as best he can while not moving from his spot.

“There we are, darling, it’s okay, see? Just breathe, and tell me when you’re ready. Breathe,” he prompts, and Dream’s chest kicks like a resurrection. “That’s it, love, that’s it, is this okay? Am I hurting you?”

Dream shakes his head, almost dislodging Hob from his position.

Relief suffuses Hob’s body. He’d done his job well enough, at least.

“It is… odd,” Dream muses. “Pressure.” He looks down, and then up again. “You are inside me, Hob.” In his voice is a kind of revelatory wonder, as though he has just now realized that this had always been the goal.

The grin splits Hob’s face wide, wide, and his absolute adoration for the creature beneath him only just surpasses his animal instinct to bury himself in warm, welcoming softness. “Yeah, I sure am,” he replies, though it hadn’t really been a question. “How do you feel about it?”

“I feel…” he shifts, experimentally, and their breath catches as the movement slips Hob further inside. “Oh… I feel so much.”

Hob can’t seem to stop shaking, barely holding back ecstatic tears. He has been inside Dream for all of a moment and his lifetime of carefully cultivated control is flying out the window. “Yeah?” he says, thickly. “Move? Tell me when.” He absolutely does not want to rush Dream but his reasons why are dwindling the longer he hovers on a knife’s edge between not pushing deeper and shaking so hard he’s afraid he’ll slip out and won’t be able to get himself back in.

Soft compassion sparks in Dream’s eyes, and he reaches out for Hob’s face. Hob obligingly contorts his spine to facilitate the connection. Nothing else matters as long as Dream is touching him.

“You can move, Hob,” he says, and Hob lets out a sob at being granted permission.

“Slowly,” Hob nods, as much for himself as for Dream. “Gonna go slow, gonna be so good to you, gonna worship you…” His muscles spasm with the effort of holding back as he presses cautiously forward. Dream gasps and arches, drawing him deeper, and then squeezes his eyes shut, his expression not wholly one of pleasure. Hob freezes immediately, cold washing over him.

“Love?” he questions, trying to wring words out of a brain which is rapidly dribbling out his ears.

“Doesn’t… hurt,” Dream manages, not sounding sure enough about it for Hob’s comfort. “It is… a stretch.” He looks down. “Will it really… all fit inside me?”

Hob has never worried overmuch about the size of his cock but he wishes he were smaller now.

“I think so,” Hob says, as gently as he can. “And if not, that’s okay too, yeah?” The fever of arousal in his blood is as nothing to his horror at the thought of making it fit, like Dream’s body and pleasure didn’t matter. He may be making it up as he goes along, but it’s still Dream, and he’s here, allowed to be inside him, allowed to make him come. He thinks they’ll be able to figure it out.

Dream is so tight around him it’s nearly painful, in a way he can’t separate from how good it feels. Moving as little as possible, he presses his thumb to Dream’s clit, rubbing soothing circles. Dream sighs out a moan, relaxing slightly, and Hob glows with pride.

Inch by inch, with lots of caresses and kisses and gentle stimulation, Hob makes space for himself inside Dream. Dream pants, and keens, and bites his lip, and is generally the most devastatingly sexy he’s ever been, because he’s doing it for himself. Because he wants. Hob feels carved out, too, like his heart has expanded to fill his whole body, leaving no extra space.

He’s lapping at Dream’s nipples, where he’d been indulging himself ever since he’d been able to reach them, while Dream grips his hair and holds him there, luxuriating in his pleasure, when Hob suddenly finds he has nowhere left to go. He looks up, stunned, his cock wrapped in the vise grip of Dream’s body.

“That’s it,” he says, breathless. “You did it, love. It’s all in.”

Dream gasps, and clutches Hob closer. “Really?”

“Really.” Hob pushes the sweaty fringe back from Dream’s face, suffused with tenderness. “Doing so well, love. So proud of you.”

“You… always say that.” Dream sounds wrecked, blissed-out and hazy; Hob takes a moment to pat himself on the back.

“Always think it,” he says, nuzzling into Dream’s collarbones. “Can’t stop myself saying things.” This is evidenced, Hob thinks, by the fact that he is still capable of forming words, even while losing his entire mind from arousal, buried inside Dream.

“Will you, still?” Dream asks, his voice smaller. “When I’m not…?”

Hob is in no way eloquent enough to answer the way he ought; he nods, emphatically, against Dream’s chest. “Always. Every day. Best person in the world,” he says thickly. “Can’t wait.”

“Oh.” Dream takes a moment to consider this. Then, “Hob, I think I would like to come now,” he says, in a slightly strained tone.

Hob huffs a laugh. “I’ll do my best, sweeting.”

He makes tiny motions with his hips, but it’s difficult, actually, with Dream so tight. This time, though, Dream is enthusiastic in his reciprocation, pushing back against him with punched out noises, and before Hob knows it — he may have blacked out a little — he’s sliding in and out of Dream. Not fully, but enough that the bed is creaking a little as a counterpoint to their pants and moans.

“Hob,” Dream whines, head thrashing on the pillow. “Hob, please.”

“Oh, love,” Hob says, his blood on fire, “What d’you need?”

“Please,” Dream begs again, and it’s clear that both of them are beyond words. Hob, who by this point has managed to regain a single clue, goes for Dream’s clit again, giving himself over to well-practiced motions while trying to maintain a rhythm. Dream’s mouth falls open, and he lets out a low, continuous wail that Hob can hardly hear over the rushing of his heart.

“Oh, ohh— oh… no!” The discordant note of Dream’s despair snaps Hob out of his frenzy as Dream’s eyes roll back in his head, his mouth moving, making words not his own. “Wind from the east—”

Hob swoops in to kiss him before he realizes what he’s done, capturing his lips with his own, silencing the meaningless syllables. Dream’s eyes are wide and blank, and Hob keeps kissing him, willing him to come back, until Dream sobs against his mouth. Hob can taste the salt of tears. Everything stops.

“Oh, lovey.” Hob strokes Dream’s hair, holding him through the tears. “It’s okay. It’s okay. Just breathe. I’m here. Take your time.”

“It was right there!” Dream exclaims, thumping a fist against the sheets. “I was so close, and then I wasn’t, and then…” He looks up apprehensively. “What did I say?”

“It’s not important,” Hob says, as Dream just stares at him. “I mean it, love. You’re not the oracle any more, it doesn’t matter. I care so much less about any potential prophecy than I care about you.”

Dream’s mouth is an ‘o’ of astonishment. He blinks, several times, as his breath slowly returns to normal. It isn’t until then that Hob notices that he’s still inside Dream, his arousal, once so overbearing, suddenly insignificant.

“D’you want to stop?” he asks, as gently as he can. Dream jolts, likely under the same realization as Hob.

“I…” He visibly considers, chewing his lip. His eyes flick up to Hob. “But you—”

“Fuck that.” Hob has to nip this in the bud. “Don’t you dare worry about me. I’ve been perfectly fine with my hand up to now, and I will be again, because nothing on earth will make me want to keep going if you don’t.”

There is a longer pause. Finally, Dream meets his eyes. “I want,” he says. “To continue. To try again. But—” He spreads his hands, helplessly.

“I told you,” Hob says, returning his hands to Dream’s hair. “We have all the time in the world. I don’t care how long it takes. We’ll try again, and if it doesn’t happen tonight, it doesn’t happen. Not the end of the world, dove. We’ll just try again tomorrow.”

Dream gives him a tremulous smile. Hob begins, with equal parts regret and relief, to ease out. Dream makes a little forlorn noise.

“Just for a minute, darling,” Hob reassures him, kissing his cheek. “I’m coming back, I promise.” He hisses as the cooler air of the room hits his (still quite hard) cock, and Dream shivers, left empty.

Hob pours a cup of water from the jug and makes Dream drink it, and then heaves himself to his feet, groaning as the pain of his injuries return with a vengeance, to see to the fire. Once it’s crackling merrily, he returns to the bed, walking carefully, though it’s all worth it to see the assessing look Dream gives the erection jutting proudly from between Hob’s legs. He licks his lips and Hob thinks he might actually go mad before the night is over. Worth it, if so.

“Was that really inside me?” Dream asks, only looking away when Hob eases himself back onto the bed.

“Yeah,” Hob nods, trying to stretch out the kinks in his muscles. “Should be a bit easier this time, if you still want.”

Dream nods before he is finished speaking. “I want,” he says.

Hob feels a rush of heat that has nothing to do with the fire, basking in Dream’s undisguised lust for him as he sips his own water. He’d known, of course, that Dream found him attractive, but it had been a background thing. Irrelevant. Why torture themselves by expressing it?

There had been a lot like that, Hob is now realizing. Incredible, what you can get used to.

But here, now, they’re free to act and react however they wish, and Hob doesn’t intend to keep Dream waiting any longer. Dream’s eyes are still red-rimmed as Hob gently pushes him back against the pillows.

“Let me know if you’re sore,” he says. Dream gives him a once-over lingering on his injured side, then arches an eyebrow, his meaning obvious. Hob splutters.

“Shut up,” he says. “That’s different.” He kisses Dream before he can voice a protest.

Dream whines as he pulls away, testing Dream's folds gently. “Hob. I don’t know if I can…”

“Shh, love,” Hob says, understanding immediately. “I don’t need to work you up any more. Just promise me you’ll try to relax.” He grabs the salve again — now much depleted — and then it’s time.

He pushes his way into Dream with far less resistance than last time, Dream yielding with an arch and a gasp.

This, Hob thinks, this is worth all of the anguish, as he inches in until he’s fully seated, moaning in harmony with Dream. To be here, now, Dream laid out loose and languid beneath him, nothing expected of him but pleasure.

“That’s it, love,” he coos. “You’re perfect. So fucking beautiful and mine.” His to protect, his to love and cherish. Dream makes a noise he’s never heard before, clutching at his hips.

“Hob, please. Move.” So Hob does. “Ah, ah—”

The sounds of Dream’s pleasure are like wine, and Hob wants to drink them from his mouth.

“Yeah? This good for you, sweetheart?” Dream’s chorus of encouragement makes the question slightly irrelevant. Hob keeps at it; slow, rolling thrusts, and a quiet stream of praise. “I have you. Nothing you have to do. Just give into it. Relax, and feel good. There’s no one here. No one but us.” He breaks off with a whimper. “Gods, you feel so good.”

“Hob. Haah—”

“So fucking good, fuck, Dream, I love you, I love you, I love you—”

Dream gasps, drawing him closer like a particularly determined octopus, and Hob goes willingly. The slick velvet catch and slide of Dream’s body is incomparable to anything he’s ever felt. If he weren’t hard enough to pound nails, he’d stay here forever if he could, to always feel as connected to Dream as he feels in this moment.

He grits his teeth, trying hard to grip the razor’s edge of his composure as Dream meets him thrust for thrust, his hair a riotous shadow against the roughspun sheets.

“Ho-ob!” Dream wails, his belly twitching, and Hob, conditioned to a lifetime of quick responses to this exact moment, does the first thing he can think of, which is to press his hand flat against Dream’s belly to feel it for himself.

Dream jerks like he’s been struck by lightning, every muscle in his body seizing, eyes shooting wide, mouth open in a silent scream. The insistent fluttering of his walls around him turns out to be too much for Hob’s tenuous control and he spills over inside Dream, panting like a racehorse and feeling like he’s been run over by one.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, Dream…” There’s so much of it, on and on, and through it all Dream’s hips make little involuntary motions, taking Hob for all he’s worth until he’s convinced he’ll die of it — but what a way to go. His head hangs down between his shoulders as he shudders through it, holding Dream as close as he can while Dream makes tiny cries in time with the twitch of his hips.

Finally, Hob can take no more of it and gently, gently pulls out, a process complicated by Dream’s body clinging to him for dear life. When Hob does manage to slip free, accompanied by a messy rush between their bodies, Dream keens as though bereft and tries to curl in on himself. Hob barely has the presence of mind to keep from collapsing directly on top of him, drawing him into the lee of his arms with clumsy motions.

“Shh, love,” he whispers. “Shh, it’s all right. You’re fine, I’m here. I’m here. I love you.”

He holds Dream close while they both shake with the force of their heaving breaths, running soothing hands over every inch he can reach.

There are silent tears on Dream’s cheeks. His heart seizes, and he fights through the languor to be able to form words.

“Gods, please tell me I didn’t hurt you…”

Dream squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head, tears scattering like diamonds. Hob crosses the impossible distance to cup Dream’s face in his hand.

“Words, darling, please,” he begs.

Dream reaches for his hand, grasping it after several tries and twining their fingers together.

“I am well, Hob,” he says, voice serene. The tears are still streaming down his face. “I am no longer the oracle. I am… free.” He says it with such wonder that Hob is nearly moved to tears himself.

“Yeah,” he chokes out. “Yeah, you are.” They both are. Hob is free to love Dream as fiercely as he’s always wanted to, and he will never take it for granted.

“During that last moment,” Dream continues, “just before I lost my powers. I saw…”

“It doesn’t matter,” Hob says firmly. “I told you. You’re not the oracle any more. Let it be forgotten.”

“Not this,” Dream insists. “I saw us, Hob.” His voice is hushed. “Sitting outside a house — our house. Together.”

Hob loses his breath as he imagines it. It’s everything he’d ever wanted for Dream, for himself. Everything he’d thought they could never have.

“The sun was setting over seaside cliffs. There was a garden.” Tears are still flowing unchecked down Dream’s cheeks, but Dream sounds as content as Hob has ever heard him. “And in my arms…” He takes Hob’s hand and draws it to rest over his abdomen.

Hob might never breathe again.

“A baby, with… with my hair,” Dream forces out through renewed tears, “and your eyes.”

Hob can’t think of a single thing to say. He scoops Dream up, rolling them until Dream is nestled on his chest. Dream squeaks at the unaccustomed position.

“Really?” It’s official; his happiness could not be more complete. “Dream, you absolute marvel. You’re perfect, I adore you—” He plants kisses on every inch of Dream he can reach. “Wait.” He pauses as the thought occurs to him. “Are you… saying we made a baby? Just now?”

Dream in his arms is loose and relaxed, flushed and happy, and Hob would give everything to ensure he looks like this always.

“I do not know,” Dream answers. “We shall have to wait and see. Or—” A smirk Hob would not have thought him capable of crosses his face. “We could keep trying, until we know for sure.”

Hob finds himself laughing harder than he can remember in a long time. “We might just have to,” he says, once he’s caught his breath. “Wouldn’t do to have your final prophecy not come true, eh?”

Dream just smiles, and nuzzles into his neck. “I love you.”

“I love you, Dream,” Hob replies, already a reflex. He can’t wait to say it every chance he gets.

Well and truly tapped out on adrenaline now, Hob can barely keep his eyes open long enough to make an attempt at cleaning them up, before cradling the most precious thing in the world to his chest. He sleeps.

#pella writes #dreamling #dreamling fic #the sandman #here's where we REALLY earn our E rating #I'm not going to tag for specific things because I don't want all kinds of blogs following me so instead #read on Ao3 for more details

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luthorswildflowers · 2 days ago

Text

Lost love is sweeter when it's finally found

It was their reconciliation after everything with Lex and Leviathan that seemed to give Lena the courage to come out to Kara. She had been closeted for so much of her life that the idea of letting someone in past her walls had felt insane if not impossible. But Kara proved her wrong again, and Lena finally decided that this box would remain open, and she would embrace this feeling head on.

Her queerness was not the only secret she had wanted to concede to the blonde that evening, standing aloft on the Tower balcony together as the sun settled low over the city. This was one of those evenings, where the tenderness of their friendship seemed to pull at something more. They stood quietly together, their elbows touching as they gazed out over the sky beyond them. Lena could only focus on the quiet breath of her “best friend”, her heart hammering in her chest as she realized this was the time to lay herself bare. She had never felt so safe in her life. She was enveloped by warmth from a family that she had to remind herself that she deserved. And Kara was at the forefront of it all, her sunny disposition and bright, bright kindness that wrapped itself around Lena’s heart.

Lena had known for a long time that she was in love with Kara Danvers. It had just taken the pain of heartbreak and the fear of losing the one person she loved most for her to realize that she couldn’t go on any longer without Kara in her life somehow. When Lex had shown his true colors, Lena had known then that she was making a huge mistake, and she would fight until her heart shattered to get back that warmth in her life.

It had worked out eventually, they had taken down Lex together, sending him to somewhere unreachable where he could never hurt Lena, or anyone ever again. Finally, free from one of her lifelong torments, Lena had realized that she was free from that fear too. And it was that first night back together with Kara and their friends that had pushed Lena to decide that she was done letting her fear drive her actions.

As they stood on the balcony together, Lena took the plunge and dared to let her heart win out.

Just as she inhaled heavily to begin her confession, Kara turned towards her, eyes locked on her own questionably.

“Lena, what’s up?”

Lena exhaled dramatically, pulling her eyes away to gaze out towards the city again. “I wanted to talk to you about something,” she began, twisting her fingers together nervously. Her stomach flipped suddenly before she pushed her trepidation down and continued on. “It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while now actually.”

Kara rested her hand gently on Lena’s arm. “Is something wrong? Are you ok?” she asked, a bite of concern in her voice.

“No nothing, like that. I just needed to – well I just want to say something, and we’ve promised to be honest with each other now since everything happened. And I don’t want to lie to you or keep things – or I mean secrets from you anymore but umm, but –” Lena sighed heavily, throwing her hands up and spinning away from Kara. “God, I didn’t realize it would be this hard.”

Kara’s hands were on her shoulders, pulling gently until Lena turned back around. Lena looked up hesitantly into Kara’s eyes, calming slightly at the reassurance she saw in them.

“Whatever it is you can tell me. I’m here.”

Lena reached out for Kara’s hands, clutching onto her tightly as she breathed in slowly. She was thankful for Kara in that moment, the blonde seemed to have a second sense about her, knowing how to ease those around her with her confidence and consideration. Lena was drawn to it, and she tried to let the feeling embolden her.

“I want to. I really do.” Her heart still thundered nervously, and Lena noticed Kara’s quick glance to her chest as she picked up on the sound. Lena breathed deeply, her shoulders falling downwards as she stared at their joined hands. “I’m just scared,” she continued shakily. “So much has changed between us in the last year. I don’t want us to fall back to where we were before – before Lex. But I want to tell you because – well I trust you.”

Lena still wouldn’t meet Kara’s eyes, but she squeezed her hand tightly, hoping to convey what she was trying to say. Kara squeezed back and dipped her head to catch Lena’s eye.

“Lena. I promise, whatever you have to tell me, it won’t change anything between us.”

Lena chuckled at that, even more aware of what she was trying to say. The desire to tell Kara her other secret was not as strong as her desire to come out. Though she supposed that secret could be revealed in time. Hopefully.

“You might be eating those words in a moment,” she muttered.

Kara cocked her head at that, crinkling her brow in that cute way that Lena liked.

Heaving in a deep breath Lena fortified herself, squeezing Kara’s hands again. “I’m gay.” she said, spewing the words out in one breath. “I didn’t really know for the longest time. I guess I suppressed it before. I mean, I felt different growing up and you know my family isn’t the most welcoming. But being – gay – it just wasn’t even something I thought about or even considered. It wasn’t allowed. But a lot has changed and now when I think about it, it makes so much sense.”

She glanced down again and slammed her eyes shut. They were growing tight behind her eyelids as she took measured breaths.

Suddenly, she felt warm arms wrap around her shoulders and pull her forward gently. Falling into Kara’s embrace was as easy as waking to a morning sunrise. It felt natural and familiar, and she clung on tight as she welcomed the feeling.

“Oh Lena,” Kara said, hugging her as tightly as she could without crushing her. “Thank you for telling me and for feeling safe enough with me to share your truth.”

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. It took me some time to figure out. I haven’t told anyone else.”

“I’m glad you told me,” Kara said, squeezing her a bit tighter.

She buried her face on Kara’s neck, realizing that she was shaking slightly. She focused on breathing, and the two of them were silent for a few moments, easily settling into the familiarity of one another.

“What are you thinking?” Kara whispered eventually.

Lena sighed, pulling back a step to wipe the wetness from her eyes. “I don’t know,” she said truthfully. “I mean I was expecting you to ask questions, but I guess considering who you are and who your friends are, you have been through this before.”

“Do you want me to ask questions?”

“I mean, maybe? I’m not sure exactly. This is just all so new.”

Kara grabbed Lena’s hand again squeezing it reassuringly. “It’s ok to still feel nervous about all of this. I think I understand how you are feeling. You feel like you don’t know who you are anymore. Like you should still feel guilty for feeling this way. That maybe you might be wrong because it took you so long to figure it out. Something like that?”

Staring into Kara’s eyes, Lena nodded faintly, her face heating up at how true Kara’s words were.

“I thought you would think I was lying because I was with James so recently. It’s partly why I ended things with him. It didn’t feel real. Most of my life hasn’t felt real to be honest. I felt like something was wrong with me, almost as if I couldn’t feel things correctly or fully. Love never really made sense to me. Not until…” she trailed off at that, thinking about how she had finally come to this realization.

“How did you know?” Kara asked gently.

She breathed out all in a rush, pursing her lips slightly as she tried to put it all into words.

“Everything changed this last year. I’ve never felt so – so vulnerable with Lex around. You and I were on bad terms, and I was alone for the first time in a long time. I had a lot of time to think about myself. Also, Andrea was back and that brought up a lot of unresolved feelings from our youth. Her betrayal hurt me more than I realized, and I don’t know – it’s just –” she faltered, feeling breathless. “I think I loved her once…”

Her voice was strained, and she tried desperately to swallow down a sob. The pain from Andrea’s betrayal had lessened to a degree but her recent realization brought with it a new ache that she was still working to understand.

“Hey, hey Lena. It’s alright. You are not alone here.”

Lena nodded, closing her eyes and leaning into Kara again, who easily swept her up into another hug.

“Losing someone you love; that’s one of the hardest things to live through. Realizing you love them after it’s too late is even harder.”

“You say that as if you have experience,” Lena murmured into her shoulder.

Kara was silent for a moment. Lena could feel Kara’s fingers playing with the fabric of her blouse, clumsily rolling the cloth back and forth as she tried to stammer out a reply.

Lena pulled back softly, looking into her bright blue eyes. “You really understand then?”

When Kara didn’t reply right away, the gears in Lena’s head started turning, and hope flared in her heart so brightly it almost burned. Kara looked like she was warring with herself in her mind. She had a desperate kind of look on her face, as if she were fighting the urge to say something.

“Kara, how much of this conversation is you empathizing with me versus you relating to me?” she asked hesitantly.

Voice quivering, all Kara could say was “Lena.” And how she said it was like the word alone was the most precious thing imaginable. Something so tender and delicate you must hold it in your hands with the most reverent of touches. Something you cherish with a steadfast duty to protect above all else.

Kara said her name like a prayer.

She said her name as if she were in love.

Their breath seemed to mingle together with how close they had gotten. Lena pushed forward just a bit more until their foreheads were pressed together.

“Please, say something darling.”

Shaking her head slightly, Kara didn’t pull away. “I don’t want to make this about me. You were sharing something so intimate with me and I don’t want to take that away from you.”

“Please, Kara.” Lena said breathily. “Please don’t hide from me. You never need to hide yourself from me ever.”

A silence so long yet so short stretched between them, but Lena couldn’t take her eyes away from the woman before her. No matter how hard she tried, her heart belonged to Kara.

Finally, Kara broke the silence. “Do you think it’s ever too late to remedy our mistakes? Is it ever too late to tell someone that you love them?”

“We’ve both made mistakes. Sometimes you have to let go of the past and meet the future head on. Sometimes it takes losing what you love most to realize the truth.”

“And what’s the truth Lena?”

At the beginning of this night, Lena had only intended to share one of her secrets with her best friend. Now her heart was screaming at her to share her most precious secret. And Lena would be damned if she tried to lie to herself any longer.

“I love you Kara Zor-El. I have always loved you.”

Kara was pulling her in before she had finished speaking. The press of Kara’s lips to hers was everything. Kara kissed her with what felt like all the affection and devotion she could, wrapping Lena in the most gentle of embraces as they deepened their kiss. Soon, the soft press of lips became ardent, more urgent and heated as they melted into one another. Lena clung to Kara as tightly as she could, arms warping around her shoulders and fingers tangling in blonde hair.

Pulling back slightly, noses still touching, Kara paused for a moment, a huge grin spread across her pretty face. “I love you too Lena. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize.”

Lena pushed forward again, sweeping Kara up into another kiss. Kara’s hands quickly found her waist, squeezing gently as their lips tried to share every bit of devotion words could not. Small whimpers escaped Kara’s mouth and Lena couldn’t help but smile giddily into the kiss.

They clung to each other like that for a while, sharing kisses filled with more emotion than Lena thought possible. And it almost felt as if they were making up for lost time. Time spent draped in resentment and sorrow that they were just now learning how to shake from their hearts. She pressed her hips into Kara’s, leaving no space between them. Hands wandered as both of them explored this new feeling. Soon all Lena could think about was the feeling of Kara against her, the warmth that bloomed in her chest and the heat that started to pool in her belly.

Hesitantly, Lena pulled back, still clinging to Kara as she took a moment to catch her breath. Kara’s eyes were still closed, and Lena giggled at the blissful look on her face. The blonde opened her eyes and grinned, scratching her fingers up Lena’s back where her hands had unwittingly wandered.

“Hi,” she said as goosebumps erupted across her back and shoulders.

Kara smirked lightly, pressing forward once more with a soft kiss. “Hi there,” she said, pulling back enough to rest their foreheads together.

“You know, I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.” Lena whispered.

“Me too,” Kara admitted. “And I don’t know about you, but I really don’t want this to be a one-time thing.”

Lena’s heart thudded wildly in her chest. Looking down at the organ in question, Kara placed a gentle hand there, feeling the rhythm as it beat loudly. Her touch was solid and steady, and Lena leaned into it. There was no going back. And she honestly didn’t want to.

“I don’t think I could survive without you in my life. I’ve never felt something like this before. You, me, together. It feels real, Kara. I want to try being “us” again. I want to see if we could be more.”

Her feet left the ground as Kara wrapped her arms gently around Lena’s waist. They were hovering off the floor, Kara’s strength more than enough to hold them both aloft. The sun had set below the horizon and the lights from the city twinkled around them in the cool evening breeze. Lena nestled her head into Kara’s neck, breathing in the warm scent that could only belong to the woman she loved.

“Forever,” Kara whispered into her hair. “Until the last star of the last galaxy in the universe fizzles into dust, I will love you forever.”

AO3

#supercorp fanfic #supercorp #lena luthor #kara danvers #supergirl #this is my first time posting a fic to tumblr #this is how I'd imagine Lena would come out to Kara #set sometime after season 5 completely ignoring season 6 in its entirety

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tragic-ships-tournament · 2 days ago

Text

It's over. Oh god, it's over.

It was a close match. But in the end....

MADOHOMU CLUTCHED THE WIN!!!!

WOOO LETS GOOO!! I am so happy for the Madoka Fandom- at least you won something lol

And I am very sorry to the Hadestown fandom- but on the bright side, you still have the proshot to look forward too??? Ehhhh I'm reaching.

But I guess this is where we part ways for now, huh? Tournament's wrapped up and all. But I gotta thank you. Yes, you, reading this post. I know this sounds sappy and all, but this thing wouldn't have been as fun as it was if it weren't for you guys voting, reblogging, and sending in propaganda. I really appreciate the support and each and every one of you who took time out of their days for this. It means the world to me.

However, because of the success of this one, I will be running it again! Of course we have the first round loser's bracket in March, but this tournament itself will be becoming an annual thing, fingers crossed! I'll probably wait a few more months (or maybe even a year!) to do a second one, so don't unfollow just yet.

And one last thing for those who care- yes, as teased way at the beginning, I will be revealing my true identity on main. Stay tuned for that. I'll only be able to answer asks and stuff for a few days though, because next Saturday I'm going on a weeklong camping trip. But fire away till then.

Once again, this has been such a fun experience. Thank you for brightening up at least one person's day with all of this. I'm really glad I got to have at least one special spot in fandom history.

Timmy out.

#timmy talks #shipping #ships #fandom #polls #tragic ships tournament #information #madohomu #fire text #tw fire

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thethunderbringerzeus · 22 hours ago

Note

((I saw the message about the hiatus, but I know i'll forget if I dont so i'm leaving this here for when you feel better, I just didn't want it to come off as if I were blatantly ignoring you!))

[A letter arrives, written in fancy caligraphy]

Dearest grandfather, King of Olympus, Lord of The Gods,

It is I, Theatrocles! I have a...favor to ask of you, and before you read on, please consider I am one of your only grandchildren who make an effort to talk to you and be nice to you!

You see I got into a nasty little fight with Selene, you know the moon goddess? The one who killed my father's lover, Ampelos?

Now i *know* my father used to go on and on about how Ampelos was better than Ganymede, so I'm sure there's a bit of animosity surrounding the whole...situation, but surely I am not to be lumped in with the people who cause such animosity! I wasn't even around during that transgression!

Now for my favor! And remember I have been nicer to you than most of your grandchildren, and even some of your actual kids! Could you make up some bullshit reason for Selene to leave Olympus for like, an hour? Pleeeeeease grandfather, she's threatening to CUT MY HAIR!!!!! THE WELL FROM WHICH MY POWERS AND INSPIRATION FLOWS!!!!!

With love, respect, and a heart of loyalty,

Theatrocles, Son Of Lord Dionysus, God of Theatrical Drama (and ass kissing. like seriously that sign off was SO obviously a suck up move. HES NOT EVEN A GOD HIS MOM IS ARIADNE?????)

((OOC: For context, hermes talks shit and adds insults onto Theatrocles's letters before sending them bc of an argument the two had. Theatrocles does not know)

OOC: You’re perfectly alright my friend. Still currently going through it, but I’m still up to respond. As for the context, it is very much appreciated

“Thank you, Hermes, for your commentary.”

*Zeus proceeded to read the letter, taking in the information as he let out a rumbling sigh, the sound much like distant thunder on the horizon.*

{The king of the gods own handwriting was in its own unique and neat calligraphy. The most notable feature being the larger letter at the beginning of each paragraph, stylized to look like the first line was an olive branch.}

Dear Theatrocles,

I would like to state that the situation between my son, your sire, Dionysus, and I have been working on our relationship. Kindly, please do not bring up the comparison of Ganymede and Ampelos again. It is something we are working on in private and I’d rather keep it that way. Especially since it is a sore spot for my Wife and I currently since we see Ganymede quite often due to him being my cupbearer.

Now, another thing, I must ask you to not put down my children again, or any of your cousins for that matter. They hold every right to feel and react to my actions as they wish. I will not shy from my past, but I will not stand for family putting each other down. Especially since I’ve been subject to uprisings before. Pray tell, do you remember how those went, dear grandchild of mine? Not well for my wife or brother, Poseidon. I highly recommend remembering that I am the strongest of my siblings.

He may be the earthshaker and my wife the queen, but I reign above them. I am the king of the gods. My power isn’t to be undermined, dear child.

As of the favor, send me to her. She has no reason to demand you to cut your hair from which you gain your power from.

-From,

Zeus Basileus

*Zeus hands the letter to Hermes with a hardened, but not unkind expression. A low sigh escaped his lips as he went to go check on his brothers in the meantime.*

Basileus is Zeus’ epithet meaning “King”. Made most sense other than his other epithet “Hypatus”/“Hypsistus” meaning “Supreme”. King felt more fitting for this though since he doesn’t tolerate any amount of potential hubris.

#divine intervention is that what you seek? (rp tag)#show her im the judgement call (ask tag)#epic the musical roleplay #epic the musical rp #roleplay blog #rp blog #zeus rp

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swagyalastorwife · 1 day ago

Text

Yandere!Adam ,Yandere!Mammon x reader

Author notes :hiiiiii guyssss (^-^)/❤️so I made this headcanons after a request I hope you like it sorry for the spelling mistakes 😅

And huys requests are open

⚠️warning ⚠️:sexual allusion, violent vocabulary, kidnapping

Mammon💰

◇ My god, drawing attention of the sin of greed is certainly not the best thing that could have happened to you.

◇He saw you in the public for the first time, your friend forced you to accompany him in one of his clown shows.

◇And when he laid eyes on you, he knew you were the one for him, he wanted you. So he decided to go talk to you after the show I mean who wouldn't want the big, handsome and strong mammon to be interested in them:

" heyyy hello, would you like to come for a ride with me if you see what I mean ;-)"

" yuck no thanks it’ll be fine "

◇ Then you left leaving him alone

◇This only strengthened his love for you he will stalk you on your social media, in the street, whatever he can do to get you he will do it.

◇I sincerely think he will go so far as to kidnap you.

◇He will lock you in this room he will force you to love him, to touch him, to kiss him, he wants you and he will do everything to make you his and his alone!

◇Now let's imagine that you love him too, he will be so happy,

◇He will expose you everywhere to show everyone how sexy his partner is he will touch you and kiss you in public to show the world who the fuck you belong to.

◇He will be a very jealous and possessive partner/kidnapper he will be ready to destroy anyone who dares to look at you too long, touch you or compliment you. My god you are his, and no one has the right to try to steal you from him!

◇Every curve of your body is his, he loves to touch you and caress you in the evening in your shared bed,

◇ He sticks to you then caresses you in a very gentle way, to give you shivers, he loves the way your back arches under his touch, I'll let you guess what happens next

Adam😇

♡This guy you want and will have you no matter what

♡He will stalk you and harass you

♡ He will probably wait outside your house on purpose to pretend to meet you and will follow you all the way and will tell you about these exploits as the first man on earth, about the original cock

♡ he will definitely send you a lot of messages like:

"Hey baby i miss you ~"

" BITCH ANSWER ME!"

" haa~ sorry baby I didn't mean to get angry, you know with you getting stressed, it's really only you who can relax me~ "

♡You understood what i am talking about

♡And if you don't give in to these advances he will find himself forced to kill the people who steal you from him, he will be ready to kill your family, friends and everything else so that you find yourself alone and run into his arms

♡If you don't give in he will force you to love him, he will steal you from the world and keep you safe in his home he wants you and he will fucking have you. he will tie you to his bed, and pretend that you are there of your own free will, he will give you gifts and kiss you.... if you agree to be with him from the beginning he will be in heaven, he will be so happy, he will spoil you he will do everything to make you happy, because his greatest fear is that you will leave him just like these other wife .

♡He is a very jealous and possessive man who wants you and he will always desire you.

♡Like mammon he showed you to all of paradise, he is proud to have you as a partner and he wants everyone to know who you belong to

♤I hope you are ready for this cause, In summary Mammon and Adam his 2 similar yandere ready to do anything to keep the love of their life close to them

I hope you like it(^-^)/❤️

requests are open so Don't hesitate to send me your ideas ❤️❤️❤️

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woozinhos · 5 hours ago

Note

hyy do you mind writing something about dino worshiping fem reader body (esp. the tits) because i think he would sacrificed himself for it. thxx 🫶

Notes: god dino has been wrecking me so much lately it’s bad

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.

Dino is completely obsessed with your body. Every curve, every inch of your skin is a source of fascination and desire for him. He spends hours worshipping you, admiring your beauty and showing you just how much he appreciates you. He starts by kissing your neck, his lips leaving a trail of soft kisses along your jawline and down to your collarbone. His hands roam over your body, tracing every dip and contour as if he's trying to memorize every detail.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers against your skin, his breath hot against your ear. "I could spend all day just touching you." Dino slowly moves down your body, his lips never leaving your skin. He kisses your shoulders, your chest, and your stomach, worshipping each part of you with reverence. He spends extra time on your breasts, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and gently sucking on it, while his hand massages the other one. "So perfect," he murmurs, switching sides to give the other one the same attention.

His hands continue to explore, tracing the curves of your hips and thighs. He kneels between your legs, looking up at you with adoration in his eyes. "You're everything I've ever wanted," he says, his voice full of sincerity. Dino gently pushes your legs apart, his eyes locked on your most intimate area. He leans forward and inhales deeply, taking in your scent.

"You smell amazing," he groans, his fingers trailing lightly over your folds. "And you're already so wet for me." He leans in and begins to kiss and lick you, his tongue flicking against your clit in a slow, deliberate rhythm. "You taste even better," he adds, his words muffled against your skin. Dino's tongue works faster, his moans growing louder as he devours you. He's completely lost in the taste and feel of you, his body responding to your pleasure with a primal need.

"I would die for you," he says again, his voice filled with passion and devotion. "You're my everything, Y/N. My obsession. My goddess." His words send a shiver down your spine, and you can feel yourself getting even wetter at his worshipful tone. You tangle your fingers in his hair, holding him close as he continues to eat you out. Dino doesn't let up, his tongue circling your clit faster and faster until you're on the verge of orgasm. He can sense it, and he looks up at you with dark, hungry eyes. "Cum for me, my love," he urges. "Cum on my tongue."

Dino's begging only adds to your pleasure, his voice desperate and needy. "Please, Y-N," he says, his lips still brushing against your skin. "I need to taste you. I need to feel you come undone." He redoubles his efforts, his tongue flicking against your clit with renewed vigor. He can feel your body tensing up, and he knows you're close. "That's it, baby," he encourages. "Let go. Give me everything."

You can't hold back any longer, and with a loud cry, you come undone, your body arching off the bed as waves of ecstasy wash over you. Dino doesn't stop, lapping up your juices like a man possessed, savoring every last drop. He finally pulls away, a satisfied smile on his face as he looks up at you. "You're amazing," he says, his voice thick with awe. "Absolutely perfect."

"Thank you, Dino," you say, your cheeks flushed and your heart racing. "That was... incredible." Dino grins and crawls up your body, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. "You're welcome, my love," he replies, his hands roaming over your skin again. "But I'm not done worshipping you yet."

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megs-1800 · 7 hours ago

Note

hi i love your fics and may i request something angst about mason's family don't like his relationship with y/n and they also dislike y/n because they think she's not good for mason (she's not an influencer, just a private girl and not from a wealthy family). i wanna know how mason react to that, will he decide to break up or keep their relationship

thanks in advance and you don't have to reply to this x 🤍

Getting Them To Like Me

Note: Please keep sending in your requests and hope you like it!

Summary: Mason's family are not your biggest fans. When you go on a family holiday with the, Mason's Ex girlfriend shows up, who Mason's family love. How will Mason react to all the drama? Will this make or break your relationship?

Pairing: Mason Mount x Reader

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: Suggestive Themes, Angst, Fluff

“What happens if they don’t like me?” I turn to Mason as he has his eyes on the road. I let myself admire him for a couple of seconds longer then I should. He is just perfect in everyway. He drifts his eyes from the road and meets mine “babe they are going to love you, what isn’t there to love about you?” he gives me a reassuring smile. I can still feel the anxiety overwhelming me. Mason and I have been dating for 6 months, its completely new and being with Mason has turned my whole life upside down. It was a life that I never knew. I just work my boring admin 9-5pm job and had my side hustle as a hair dresser. Me and Mason met in a café opposite my office, he had a hoodie on with his hood up and was one in front of me. He went to pay for his coffee but realised he left his wallet in the car, I have had a bad morning and not in the mood to wait so I just agreed I would pay for it so I could get the line moving. Turned out he was having a meeting using one of the office room downstairs so we got chatting in the hallway, one thing lead to another and here we are. I wasn’t ready to meet Mason’s family yet, he had met mine and of course they loved him but meeting his was a whole other level. It is his sister Jaz’s birthday next week so Mason insisted I attend with him to his parents to have dinner to celebrate. I have never been more nervous.

We pulled up outside their house and I can feel my heart beating in my chest I just want to be sick. Mason can sense my nerves as he rubs his hand into mine as we stand outside trying to calm my nerves. Mason’s mum Debbie opens the door and quickly embracing Mason in a hug “Oh I didn’t realise you were bringing company. Whose this?” Mason moves out the way to let me inside, Mason rolls his eyes. “I did tell you I will be bringing y/n. I told you about her months ago. But Mum meet y/n. Y/N meet my mum Debbie” he gestures. Debbie remains still and just gives me a smile. “Oh yeah I remember now. Nice to meet you Y/N” it sounded like she didn’t really mean it but I am just putting it down to nerves.

Mason leads me into the living room where Jaz, Mila, Summer, Lewis and his dad Tony are all sitting. They all quickly get up and hug Mason and look awkwardly at me. Mason gestures for me to sit down as all of them sit down and introduces them all to me. Mila and Summer are climbing all over Mason “uncle Masey who is this?” as they point at me. Mason gives them a big grin and says “this is my new girlfriend y/n” it gives me butterflies when he calls me that, we have only just started calling eachother boyfriend/girlfriend. It sounds childish but I love when he calls me his girlfriend. “Hey Y/N!” both Mila and Summer say in unity and wave.

I allow all of them to chat and I am just sat there smiling and engaging in conversation the best I can, I feel invisible though. It feels like I am not even there. Debbie calls to say lunch is ready and we all go sit and begin to eat. I feel extremely uncomfortable as I am picking up the vibe in the room, Mason places his hand on my thigh to try and reassure me, he must sense the vibe too. Tony turns to me “So tell us y/n what do you do?” all eyes are suddenly on me and I can feel myself going red. “I am a manager just for a little admin company in the city. I also have my own little hair dressing business on the side.” They all nod confirming they are listening to what I am saying. Debbie speaks up “so have you had more clients now they know you are dating Mason” I am a bit taken back by the comment and I can see Mason shoot daggers at her which I am quickly to reply for my defence, “Actually Mason and I are keeping our relationship under the radar at the moment so only family and close friends are aware”. Debbie gave me a small scoff in response and we all continued eating.

I whispered to Mason that I needed the loo and he told me where it was, as I escort myself I stand at the entrance and listen to what they have to say. “Why are you all being so rude!” I hear Mason shout but I can tell he is still trying to keep his voice low so I don’t hear. “I don’t know what you are talking Mason. We are just asking her questions to show our involvement?” Debbie tried to act innocent. That’s when I hear Jaz but in “we are just trying to look at for our baby brother Mase. Come on she is not famous, she doesn’t have a high end job. She is nothing really special Mase are you really trying to tell me she is with you just for love? Like your job and lifestyle had no factor in her getting with you. Come on Mase, you are blind when it comes to love, you cannot generally believe she loves you for you, come on look at this from our side”. Mason doesn’t reply and that’s my queue to come back inside. Its awkward for the rest of the dinner, and not much more is said.

On the way home me and Mason are sat in silence and all that could be heard is the small sound of the radio playing. I look over at Mason “they hate me don’t they?”

“They don’t hate you they just haven’t been given the chance to know you. They are just protective of me that’s all”.

I look at Mason as I know he is just truing to play devils advocate but still “Mason I heard what they said. They don’t want us together.” With this Mason pulled over at the side of the road and took his hand in mine. “Well I want us together and that’s all that matters” and he places a small loving kiss to my lips. I can feel myself smiling into this kiss, I love how he is protecting me.

A couple of weeks have passed since that lunch, Mason has been a little distant but I put it down to us both being busy. Its date night and Mason arranged for me to come round and agreed he would make dinner. I put some flared trousers on and tucked in a nice top so I was casual but still nice enough for the date. As I walk through the door Mason greets me “that smells amazing” I say as he gives me a kiss. “well I got a surprise for you. I wanted to wait until after dinner but I just couldn’t wait” .

I smile at him and bring him closer “oi oi” I wink provocatively. Mason pulls away and giggles “no not like that. That’s for after dinner” he raises his eyebrows teasing. I follow him into the kitchen and perch on one of the stools at his breakfast bar whilst he stands the other side. “Sooo how do you feel about going to Mykonos?” I look at him in disbelief. I jump across the counter and wrap my arms around him “yes yes yes! I would love to go”. Mason leans down and places his lips onto mine. I have never been so excited, going to Mykonos with the love of my life. Life couldn’t get better.

I was on cloud 9 for weeks after that, starting holiday prepping and I was on good vibes. That’s when Mason had to break to me that it wasn’t just us 2 going away and that his whole family would be going away with us. I was now dreading it, I know they don’t like me so its going to be completely awkward. I agreed to meet Mason at the airport as I didn’t want to do the silent car ride with his family. As I arrived I see Mason wave over to me, as I make my over he wraps his arms around me “hey baby” he whispers into my ear. “Hey y/n how you doing?” his mum questions and gives me a small hug. “I am good thank you Mrs Mount how are you? I am excited to go away with you all.” I say nervously. She pulls away “oh please call me Debbie we are all excited to get to know you better”. She winks as she walks away, I look at Mason with a confused look he leans down to my ear as he wraps his arms round my side “I told them to go easy on you”. I gave Mason a massive smile knowing I can try and enjoy the holiday.

The first couple of the days are bliss, Mason’s family are making a complete effort and trying to get to know me. I am having a much needed shower before getting ready for dinner, Mason walks into the bathroom “damn you are beautiful” in which he makes me blush “I might have to join you” which he winks and starts to undress. I quickly turn the shower off and get out “Uh uh we got dinner we haven’t got time for this”. Which I feel Mason pout into the kiss. I decide to wear a long white Maxi Co-Ord which the skirt has a slit up the side showing leg. I look in the mirror and make the final touches to my hair. I feel Mason wrap his arms around my waist “you are the most beautiful girl in the world” I watch in the mirror as he places small open kiss to my neck, I feel myself relax into him as I left out a small moan in response to the kisses. “I’m the luckiest girl in the world” I rely turning around and continue to kiss Mason’s lips. I pull away a let out a small giggle as my lipstick is now smudged over his lips, I use my thumb to wipe it off. “I love you, you know that” I respond. Mason then kisses me again “I love you more”.

We start to walk down the street towards the restaurant for dinner, Mason and I are walking in front of everyone hand in hand. I hear a snap and then Lewis shouts over “you two are so cute!” I can feel myself blush as he shows me the picture he took. “That’s so cute, send that to me!” which Lewis nods in agreement.

We sit down for dinner which overlooks the sea, it looks incredible and looking over at other tables the food looks like its to die for. We are all chatting away when a women walks over to our table, she is wear a tiny mini dress and looks drop dead gorgeous. She looks incredible, she looks like a Victoria secret model, I feel like I have seen her before but I cannot place it.

Tony stands straight up and brings her into a tight hug “Rebecca darling how are you doing?!” I watch as her face lights up as they engage in small conversation and Debbie hugs her and goes to get another chair. I look at Mason and his face drops “who is that?” I ask but he doesn’t respond. The girl now speaks “I am so sorry I am late guys its been one hell of a travel over here, one of my shoots overran so I missed the flight with you guys, then my next flight was cancelled, then they thought I lost my luggage it was such a hell of a ride but I am glad I am here now”. I watch as Debbie reaches over and rubs her wrist. Who is this woman?

Debbie is next to speak “So Becks where are you staying?” I watch as the woman takes a sip of her drink she ordered moments ago. “Oh Debs don’t even get me started! When I arrived at my hotel they said they don’t even have my booking. I guess I wasn’t the best at arranging these, I use to leave that all upto him”. Which they all laugh at, well apart from Mason. I am still looking around confused. “Well we have a spare room in the villa you are more then welcome to stay. I am sure everyone won’t mind one more” Debbie says and looks around for conformation. Jaz then speaks up “it would be amazing for you to stay. We have so much to catch up on”. I look over at Mason who is shooting looks at Lewis which Lewis shrugs in response. I look over at Mason and ask again “Mase who is that?” but again I am met with no response.

Mason is totally quiet over dinner and chit chat is all turned towards that Rebecca, I quickly escort myself to the toilet and once there I google her name which the first news article that came up “Rebecca Green spotted first time since break up with Man United’s Mason Mount” I feel my heart drop. I knew I saw her sometime. She is Mason’s ex. Why is she here? I feel a lump in my throat rising I need to speak to Mason.

Once dinner is finished we all take a walk back to the villa, its not as loving as it was when we were walking to dinner. Everytime I tried to link hands with Mason he would pull away but then give me a loving smile at the same time so my heads is confused. When we arrived everyone agreed that it was late and everyone was going to their respective room. Mason turned to me “I will be up soon I need to have a quick conversation.” I go to kiss him but he turns his head so I only get his cheek, I nod in agreement and then make my way upto our room, I thought I would have a quick bath and by the time I am out Mason should be out, he will probably just ask his parents what they are playing at inviting Rebecca, I have nothing to worry about I keep trying to tell myself. Once I am out the bath Mason is still not up, I look at the time and its been a couple of hours, I didn’t even realise the time as I was engrossed in the book I was reading. I wrap a towel around me, I go to look on the balcony and the side makes me feel sick. Its Mason and Rebecca sat on the table by the fire laughing away. I try to think nothing of it and get into bed hoping Mason will be back soon.

I am woken by the sound of Mason stumbling into the room, he quickly strips and throws himself into bed. “What time is it?” I ask Mason rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. Mason turns his body to me “1ish I think sorry we just got into catching up and didn’t realise the time” Mason pouts and gives me puppy eyes. “don’t be angry at me babyyyyy” he wines. “how can I stay mad at you” I respond giving Mason a little kiss but at the same time my heart still hurting.

I am debating to have the conversation now or in the morning but then I just blurt out “What is she doing her Mase?” I ask sheepishly hoping not to cause an argument. Mason wraps me up “Sorry I really didn’t know she was coming” I nod, it sounds like there is a little bit of a lie in that but right now I am not here to fight. “Don’t you think it will be a little awkward with your ex and your current girlfriend being on the same holiday with you?”

“Only if we make it awkward” in which Mason is quick to reply. I start to kiss Mason as I push my body into his. I pull away and look into his eyes “I was hoping to finish off what we couldn’t earlier in the shower” which I shoot him a wink as I start to kiss his neck. Mason pushes me away “I am knackered baby, its been a long day and I have had a lot to drink. But if you are lucky maybe you will wake up to something jabbing your bum in the morning” which he shoots me a wink. I roll my eyes at his response “how romantic” I giggle and then Mason turns me around as he spoons me and sleeps overwhelms us both.

As I open my eyes I suddenly feel the lack of presence of Masons strong arms around me, I quickly stretch then realise he is not next to me in bed. He cannot have one day off from the gym I thought. I got up and put a bikini on and throw on a dress to cover up as I make my way downstairs. Its quiet and only Lewis is sitting by the pool, I sit next to him. “Where is everyone?” I ask. “Mason and Rebecca are at the gym and the others are by the beach. I told Mason sod the gym in this heat” which we both giggle. “You know that he must be a mad man” I quickly respond trying to hide the twinge of guilt I have.

I didn’t see Mason for the rest of the day, his family are basically acting like I am not there and the only one who is acknowledging me is Lewis. I feel like shit and I just want to go home. I quickly ring my friend Hannah as I sat on the bed. “Hey girlllll! Hows the holiday with lover boy? I am totally jealous and totally hate you right now!” she basically squeals. “Its going alright” I reply looking down trying to hold the tears in. I can see her looking at me trying to figure out whats happened. “Y/N you are literally in Mykonos with The Mason Mount and you are not happy right now whats happened?” as I am explaining everything to her and I can feel the tears running down my face as she tries to reassure me that Mason loves me. I can hear Mason coming back into the villa so I explain to Hannah I gotta go which she understands and we both say our goodbye. I wipe my tears away waiting for Mason to come into the bedroom but nothing is happening. I start scrolling on my phone and I see Mason is tagged on a post:

Rebecca_Green Posted:

The Best Days With You ❤️

I feel myself wanting to be sick as the lump in my throat is formed. At this point Mason now decides to walk into the bedroom. He quickly sees my upset demeanour and runs straight over to me “baby whats wrong?” he asks as he wipes my tears away with his thumb. I show Mason the insta post “you literally went on a date with your ex girlfriend whilst I have been stuck here all day with your family who hate me and haven’t even spoken a word to me! Come on Mason she is wearing your shirt for fucks sake!” I am shouting now as I point at the picture, Mason steps back as he hasn’t been prepared for this argument. “I told her not to post anything!” I get up looking at Mason. “That’s you reply! That you told her not to post anything! So you are not denying you went on a date with her!” I can see Mason started to get fired up and I know he really doesn’t want to right now. “It wasn’t a date, okay, we had a lot to talk about so we did that, I am allowed to have a conversation with her. Also if you want my family to speak to you why not try and put more of an effort into it and they might actually start talking to you” he fired back. I can feel the tears rolling down my face as I leave the bedroom not wanting to ignite the fire more.

As I make my way downstairs the villa is empty and its just Rebecca sitting on her own on the decking. I build up the bravery and I go and sit opposite her. “hey we haven’t had a chance to introduce myself I am y/n” she looks up at me and smiles. “hey y/n! I am Rebecca. So how do you know the Mounts? Are you friend of Lewis’s or Jaz’s?” I look at her confused. Mason didn’t tell her who I am. “I am Mason’s girlfriend” I blurt out with authority. She looks at me with wide eyes like she is shocked at my reply. “I am sorry I didn’t realise Mase had a girlfriend I am so sorry for hogging him since we have been here. We have had so much to speak about” .

“Yeah he said” I scoffed as I replied. She continues to look at me. “I am sorry I am just so shocked that Mase has a girlfriend. He brought me the ticket for this holiday ages ago but then obviously we hadn’t spoken after the breakup, and then Debbie messaged me saying to still come. I wouldn’t think she would do that if you guys were in a relationship and then Mason had to buy another ticket for you”.

I can feel my heart breaking at every word said “I paid for myself I didn’t want anyone thinking I was here for Mason’s money, but also his family are not my biggest fan so that’s probably why they invited you”.

She gives me a smile that I can tell from her eyes is totally fake “sorry I cannot relate on that one! His family have always loved me!” she giggles. I feel the hatred towards her already, and I don’t know why I thought coming down here would make me feel better, if anything it has made me feel worse. I escort myself back to our bedroom which Mason has already disappeared from. I collapse against the door and let my tears fall.

Mason’s POV

I spot Lewis from across the villa “Lew where is she?” Lewis looks at me confused which right now I am not in the mood for this conversation. “Where is who?” I can tell he generally doesn’t have a clue who I am talking about. “Y/n.. we had a kinda fight last night and I left her to cool down but when I came back this morning she was gone all of her stuff is gone and she won’t answer the phone. I am worried about her Lew whats happened?”

Lewis let out a big sigh “I don’t know where she went mate. We had a chat last night as she was pretty upset and you weren’t around”. I am shocked at this, why would you speak to Lewis and not me. “What was said?”

“She was upset about the post that Rebecca put up and I don’t blame her bro it didn’t look good”

“It was nothing like you think Lew. I promise look the one where I was asleep on the beach she said she was going to take a walk and then I fell asleep on the beach I didn’t even know she was next to me. The one she took in the shadow I didn’t even know she was taking the photo I was looking down at my phone. And then one with her on the beach, she asked me to take for her insta.”

“She has your shirt on tho, it does look bad Mason?”

“She didn’t have anything to cover up with, she said she was getting burnt what was I supposed to say no and let her burn?”

“I think y/n’s reply to that would be yes” in which Lewis laugh “she then said she spoke to Rebecca, apparently Rebecca was saying about how you never mentioned that y/n was your girlfriend and how mum invited Rebecca on the holiday as you had already paid for the ticket”. I cannot keep my expression straight, I am now fuming.

“That’s bullshit Lewis! Come on you know that is! You had to of told her that!”

“I didn’t say anything Mase, I don’t know the truth I don’t even know why Rebecca is here so I just listened to her have her rant. Kind of like what I am doing for you now”.

“I told Rebecca that y/n is my girlfriend. That was the first thing she asked me when she arrived was who she was and I told her straight away I was taken. I went to the gym yesterday morning and she just invited herself, and she did the same on the beach. I wanted to speak to her and ask her why she was here. Mum never invited her, she just had the ticket and thought ‘fuck it’ and thought she could come out and I don’t know, rekindle the relationship or something. She is possessive that’s the whole reason we broke up in the first place. Mum just asked her to stay to be polite as she had no where to stay. You know mum always liked her so I think she was just trying to be nice.”

“Oh right, yeah that came up too. Rebecca said about how our family loved her and then y/n said about how much we hated her apparently. I told her we don’t hate her, its just that we are protective of you as you are the baby of the family that’s all. But I know I have got to know her a lot more during the holiday and she is actually a lovely girl and I am sure the rest of the family agree.”

“I told her that!” Then I realise what I actually said “Well actually I snapped at her, and told her if she makes more of an effort then maybe you guys would like her”.

Lewis rolls his eyes and scoffs “Wow that’s nice!” he said sarcastically.

“I didn’t mean it, I let Rebecca get into my head. We always used to argue as she always thought I was cheating and that argument with y/n brought back memories and I just snapped. I didn’t mean anything I said to her I just got angry. I wanted to explain everything this morning but when I got into our bedroom she was gone. Do you think she has gone home?”

“Maybe.. if I were her Mase, I would already be on the next flight home so she is probably doing the same.”

I feel my chest drop as deep down I know Lewis was right. I didn’t want to leave my family as it’s the first time in ages that I have seen them. I spend the next couple of days fighting with my head and heart. I kept trying to call and text you but you continue to read everything that I write and just not reply.

We are sat over dinner with everyone, I told Rebecca to go home after everything I couldn’t cope with her being here, she caused all of this. As soon as she realised it would never be me and her again she couldn’t wait to leave. I told my family everything yesterday as I was moping around and they couldn’t stand my attitude apparently. My dad turned to me as we were eating “why are you still here? The longer you leave it the longer she has to think about all your flaws” that makes everyone giggle.

“You guys didn’t like her anyway” I was quick to respond. Mum give me a sympathetic look, “Mase its our duty to protect you. No girl will ever be good enough for you. Yes I agree we probably didn’t give her the nicest start and we apologise for that. But with your job and fame there are going to be girls who just use you to be apart of that, its our job to filter them out. From this holiday we can tell that she loves you for you Mason and that’s all we want so she has our approval.” My heart melts at hearing that all I wanted was for my family to like you, as I generally think I am proper falling for you. My mum continues “also Rebecca told me when she was leaving, that y/n told her that she paid for her part of the holiday, so you paid for everyone apart from that poor poor girl and she only stayed for half the holiday. I suggest when you get home you give her a one hell of a sorry”.

“In my defence I did offer to pay, she insisted on paying as she didn’t want you guys to think she was using my money.”

“Well then I suggest you go home and make it right Mase. You can see us anytime go home to her”. I have heard all I need to.

I got on the next flight home, it was the longest hours of my life. All I can think about is you, what are you going to think? Are you going to take me back?

Readers POV

Its been a long couple of days, I have unpacked all my holiday stuff, half of it unworn which brings tears to my eyes. It was childish that I left without a trace but I couldn’t be there, its clear that Mason wants Rebecca, why wouldn’t he, she is stunning and I am just little old me.

I am just starting to cook dinner whilst I have my tunes in the background. I am dancing around when I hear a knock at my door. I quickly open it and I am shocked to see Mason standing there, suitcase and all in trail. I am speechless, out of anyone who could be at my door I did not expect him. “W-What are you doing here?”

Mason looks tired from all the travelling “I have a lot of explaining to do. Please 5 mins that’s all I am asking for”. I nod and let him inside, he came back from the holiday early and clearly come straight from the airport the least I can do is let him explain.

“I-If I knew you were coming I would of changed?” I quickly look down at my stained PJs, messy bun and glasses. Mason shakes his head as he takes a seat in my living room “I think you still look unreal” I blush at the compliment. “So explain” I say joining him on the sofa.

“It isn’t what you think okay, Rebecca twisted it all. Let me start from the beginning, so firstly-“

“I know Lewis told me”

“He did”

“Yeah yesterday. He said you had a conversation with him and cleared it all out. He said he wanted me know now as he didn’t want me waiting days and hating you more and more each day. He said that he liked me, and he said that he could see that I meant a lot to you so wanted to make things right.”

“Well he kind of ruined my whole speech that I wrote on the plane” he giggles “but I am glad he told you. I couldn’t stand the thought of you hating me.”

“I could never hate you Mase. I love you. I love you more then I have ever loved someone before. But at the same time you hurt me. Especially when you said ‘if I wanted your parents to like me then I need to make more of an effort’ because I spend all that time on holiday trying to get them to like me and that didn’t work.”

“It did, why do you think I am here. They told me to go fight for you because they can tell you are a lovely girl and wanted to see where this relationship could go. I am sorry for how I acted, but I promise you y/n even if my family didn’t approve I don’t care. I want you and only you. Nothing will ever change my mind”.

My heart melts and I jump across the sofa and wrap my arms around Mason. The kiss was passionate and needy. I straddle his hips as we deepen the kiss. “you have a lot of making up to do.” Mason gives me a suggestive smile. “Don’t worry I kinda thought so. Tomorrow we have date night but tonight I will make it up to you in another way”. Mason picks me up as my legs wrap around his waist as we continue the kiss as we make our way to the bedroom. I am in for a night of apologises and I have absolutely no objections.

#angst #fluff and angst #football #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #footballer imagines #footballer x you #manchester united #mason mount #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagine #mason mount fanfic

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