#but my dream is getting to a point where all of this is presentable somehow

[thewistlingbadger]

Season two fumbled many things but out of all the things they could have possibly fucked up I'm upset at how they messed up Silco. Yes, because he's my favorite character but also because he was the one holding everything together in season one. He was such an integral part of s1, to the point where when you examine acts 2 and 3 most of everything that happens can be traced back to Silco in a way. Season one ended with his death, and the implications and effects that was going to have on the story were truly fascinating.

But season two does, probably, the worst thing they could have possibly done. They almost COMPLETELY ignore his existence! Despite the fact that Silco was known by many and was running the undercity, the only character that is acts somewhat accordingly to his death is Jinx. None of Silco's vast number of employees react to his death, they're never seen again despite the fact that some of them had been with him since day one. Sevika only mentions Silco once despite being the person he was closet with outside of Jinx. What's worse about this is the fact that Sevika mourning his loss is never explored, it's only used as a plot device to get Sevika and Jinx to team up in early s2. We only get three episodes with their dynamic and then it's completely abandoned, SEVIKA is completely abandoned. Jinx remembers Silco but...does she really? When you compare the way Jinx understood Silco in s1 to how she understands him in s2, it's a night and day difference. In season one, Jinx understood that Silco was like her father and she was like his daughter. In season one she is able to see the flaws in his thinking when it comes to betrayal and she's able to understand his hurt, something he himself has ignored. But in season two Jinx is under the impression that she was like a friend to Silco, and she somehow thinks that Vander's apology would have been enough for Silco to forgive him. She's also under the impression that Silco only wanted her to continue what he started, which was never a concept presented in s1. It was very clear that Silco had no intention of turning Jinx into the heiress of Zaun, yet this is how Jinx thinks of him in s2. In season two Jinx's subconscious uses Silco's memory to convince herself to end her life. We see "Silco" say a bunch of shit he would NEVER say, once again highlighting how Silco as a character is completely misunderstood in s2.

Silco's relationships with others isn't all that's forgotten, his impact on the world around him is ALSO forgotten. The absence of Silco in Zaun is never explored. We see the chembarons fighting for less than an episode and then NOTHING. Shimmer, the popular drug that loads of people were addicted to, the drug that boasted Zaun's economy up, the drug Silco was producing? Suddenly irrelevant. Silco's dream of an independent Zaun? An idea that is never revisited. The peace deal that was offered to him? Never mentioned again. It's like the writers completely forgot how important silco was in season 1. Or like they made the assumption that because he was now dead he didn't matter to the story.

[moe-broey]

Contained. (Not pictured: Two different WIP folders bc they're a secret 😌)

And since I've learned I have zero object permanence and three ring binders are where all my art goes to die very painfully in purgatory

I'm hoping. This will resolve that (Load Bearing Takumi and Henry Fire Emblem)

Finally ran out of pages in my sketchbook, you know what that means!

The. Pile

I think I should like. Get into scrapbooking or something 🫡

[omgthatdress]

Just a little considerations for those still grieving Liam Payne

So, right now, you are probably still lost in some very real grief over someone you never met but has still been a major part of your life since you were thirteen. You feel like you've lost an extremely close friend. It's hard to imagine your life where he isn't somehow present.

I know all this because felt the exact same way seven years ago when Chester Bennington died by suicide. And I do have a little bit of wisdom to share with you all right now, wisdom that I really wish I didn't have.

First of all, it's okay to be sad. To cry. To feel like shit and wish this had happened to someone else, someone who deserved it. Give yourself the time and space to feel all that because it's the only way you can start to move on. Feeling sad is only a problem when, months later, you simply CAN'T move on. That's depression, and that's when you should seek professional mental health treatment.

Secondly, there aren't going to be ANY easy answers in this. Right now a lot of people are looking for fingers to point, people to blame, and even finding conspiracy theories that Liam was murdered. While it may be initially comforting to fall into the idea that Liam didn't do this to himself, he was murdered for some reason (usually because he was going to expose a pedophile ring of some sort), conspiracy theories are always wrong and will NEVER give you the satisfying answer you want.

It was Liam's decision to step out onto that balcony, and his alone. It is no one else's fault. Accepting that is incredibly hard to do, but it is ultimately what will grant you the most peace.

As for what lead up to that, well, there's a lot. Fucked up celebrity deaths are kind of my Roman Empire, so while I never knew Liam, I DO know a lot about what leads up to huge, terrible tragedies that play out in the tabloids in extremely ugly ways.

Becoming famous at a really young age is an incredibly mixed bag. While you do get to live out this shit 99% of people on earth can only dream of, it does mean you often find yourself at 30 with a career that's basically over. A lot of young celebs simply don't know what to do with themselves once the fame and adoration has dried up, and the answer is usually to do an absolute fuck ton of drugs.

Drug and alcohol abuse changes your personality. I know this from personal experience. Someone very close to me developed a serious problem with alcohol, and turned from a kind, funny, wonderful person to someone nasty, abusive, and resentful. Someone I didn't recognize at all. While I and my person were very lucky that they were able to quit drinking, not everyone is so lucky.

Liam deserved better. He was so young and he still had ample opportunity to turn his life around. But he made one terrible decision, and now he's dead, and there simply is no changing that.

So what do you do? Remember him, and love him. Be grateful for the joy that he brought into your life. Sing his songs, and stay close to the friends you made because of him. The fact that you are so fucking sad right now is a beautiful thing, because it only shows how deeply loved Liam Payne really was.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can I please request Bill thinking he finally found a human who won't betray him, someone he really enjoyed the company of (but would never admit to that because Bill) only to find them trying to destroy the portal?

This is long as shit, be warned and I tried to keep bill in character as much as possible but he might be ooc at some points.

Your first meeting with Bill was one he didn’t expect. When faced with something you know isn’t normal, the response Bill was expecting was you running away until you were out of sight, talking off the ears of anyone who’d head your warning but you instead smiled at him.

‘Nice bow tie and top hat sentient triangle.’ You said.

‘The names Bill Cipher, so you can stop calling me that name, I find it rather insulting, and thanks! I dress to impress but most people just run away or scream bloody murder to appreciate my effort to look presentable’ he replies, finding himself a new human pet to play with after swearing to himself that Sixer would be the last, Bill was a liar and he knew it, messing with humans and destroying their physique was the most genuine fun he’s had in a long, long while.

This was merely the begging of yours and Bills weird friendship and it was only going to get weirder from this point onwards.

Being friends with a sentient triangle dream demon was…a experience indeed as you’d often wake to him floating above you, drinking something through a silly straw and wearing a hat unlike the usual slim black top hat he wore, only to find out that he had somehow snuck several chicken into your room that had scaly dragon legs and could breath fire.

That took a while for you to get ride of them with a wooden broom and not have it set on fire when the chickens retaliate with fire.

‘How did you find such things?’ You’d ask Bill when sitting down to eat breakfast.

He shrugs. ‘You search for a realm that swaps certain anatomy of animals and play a demented game of mix and match to see what monstrosities to humanity could be made and bingo! Infinite possibilities of scaring or scaring people for the rest of their lives! ha ha!’

‘And chickens with dragon feet and could breath fire is your go to choice, wasn’t there anything else you could’ve chosen from?’ You inquired as you took a bite of your breakfast and immediately grimacing when you felt something was off.

‘Oh sure there was and- oh you’ve found where I put my mealworms from last week.’ Bill casually told you as he plays with his silly straw while you spat your breakfast out into a nearby bin, wiped your mouth before pushing the plate away from you as your appetite was ruined.

'glad to be of help. buddy.' you replied as you decided that it would be best to wait for bill to disappear before attempting to eat and or drink again.

As the weeks progress Bill found himself enjoying your company more than he originally suspected, sure you were fun to mess with and play impractical pranks on from time to time. However -and he’ll never admit this ever- he had come to actually enjoy spending time with you and getting to know you outside of his personal human plaything.

Bill begrudgingly remembered your least favourite family member and why, your favourite colour, your first pets name and so much more that he would deem unimportant; to things that were deep and personal to you such as your fear of being alone or not taken seriously enough. To which he offered some -albeit questionable- advice.

‘Listen if everyone takes themselves seriously or someone wants everyone else to take them seriously, then who’s going to laugh at kids when they fall over, or at people who make an fool of themselves as they fall upon their own sword of hubris.’ Bill tells you once as you both sat on the roof of your home, star gazing.

‘And what am I meant to take away from all that ?’ You asked, not understanding what he was getting with this.

‘Don’t take yourself too seriously or expect others to either when you know that version of yourself will be someone you’ll sooner regret wishing for.’ Bill responded.

‘Do you miss home?’ You then asked him out of the blue and Bill couldn’t help but be a little taken aback by it.

‘Home..’ bill trailed off as he took his hat off, reached a hand inside and pulled out a glowing atom, the remains of his home. ‘This is what remains of my home.’ He tells you rather sombrely, remembering the last time he told a human of his origins, only for him to dedicate himself into destroying him.

‘I’m..I’m so sorry I didn’t-‘ you’d tried to apologise but bill held up a hand as he returned the remains of his home back into his top hat before putting it back on his head.

‘It’s fine. I was bound to tell you about that sooner or later.’ He waves his hand but you could tell you struck a nerve.

‘Sooo…what happened to your home, only if you don’t mind me asking.’ - you

‘It was destroyed by a monster.’ Bill answered with a distant look in his eye.

‘As stupid as this will probably sound to you but you’ll always have a home with me, I hope you know that.’ You told him with the most genuine smile across your face and Bill couldn’t help but feel…touched by your words. He’s thrown and done everything to push you to the brink and all you’ve done was withstand him and his shenanigans all the while standing your ground.

‘You’re a strange human and your sentimentality makes me physically sick but…I guess I appreciate the thought.’ Bill had to force himself to say, he might as well have swallowed down stones with how hard it seemed for him to say anything remotely considerate. You were quite possibly the only human that showed him kindness and compassion and that made the dream demon feel weird and out of his depth.

Now that Bill was thinking about it not once had you ever given him a reason to distrust you, sure he was suspicious of you at first, but overtime you have proven yourself to be the most trustworthy person in his long, long life. You had made him feel unlike anything he’s felt before and that made him on edge, just in the case that he was being lured into a false sense of security later down the line, but nope you didn’t do such a thing and stayed open and honest him no matter what.

It almost made bill feel bad about the shit he put you through but soon he’d come to regret saying these words, for not even a week later and Bill caught you red handed destroying his portal after searching the house for you when you didn’t greet him like usual.

‘WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!’ He screamed, his body burning brightly at the betrayal you’ve just committed, was everything you said a lie? Were you just as good at pulling people along as he was? How long have you been waiting for this exact moment to get back at him?

‘What does it look like, I’m destroying the portal.’ Your reply was stone cold as you continued to dismantle the portal piece by piece while Bill shouted profanities at you.

‘YOU LIED TO ME!’ - bill

‘That’s cute coming from someone who takes sick enjoyment in breaking every human he comes across, pushing them into utter madness with no remorse!’ You chuckled humourlessly as you looked at the dream demon who looked about ready to either cry or combust.

‘YOU LIED TO ME!’ Bill repeated as his anger only grew stronger the more he began to think back on all of your heart to heart moments and wonder whether they were fake too? Did you not mean it when you said that he had a home with you?

‘I didn’t lie, I just didn’t tell you the whole truth.’ You retorted. ‘Now are you going to shut up and kill me or keep ranting on how I somehow betrayed you because either way I don’t care.’ You added as you watched the triangular demon closely.

‘Kill you? Oh no sweetie, you’ve just earned a fate WORSE THEN DEATH! Eternal torture until you speak the truth and then torture you so more because I find your pathetic humans pain funny!’ Bill laughed maniacally. ‘And to think I was starting to like you, you just had to go and stab me in the back!’

You shrug, trying to hide how scared you were in this moment, knowing that even if you did scream for help it would be far too late by the time Ford, Stan or either dipper or Mabel to save you and you were okay with that. ‘First time for everything right?’ You asked with a smile. ‘I’m sure you’ll get use to it sooner or later.’

Bill’s eye was wide and looking maniacal in the moment as his voice was oddly and unnervingly calm that it froze your blood. ‘You humans might act brave in the face of danger, but what I’m capable will have you wishing you never picked up that wrench or tried playing the hero. For playtime is over.’

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

I would love a smut koing x reader,

Where like they were childhood friends to lover thing

Rekindled Flames

Pairing: Konig x reader

Warnings: FLUFF WITH SMUT

Authors Note: I hope you enjoy, this is my first ever request and I genuinely hope you liked it (I’ve never wrote so much oh god) (also my birthday is in 2 days so I’m excited!)

Word Count: 3k

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

You couldn’t help but glance at your watch again, your heart thudding with each passing minute. The train was late. Typical, you thought, even as your mind tried to focus on anything but the reunion about to unfold. König was coming home, and you hadn’t seen him in person in years. Letters and phone calls had connected you across the distance, but nothing could quite fill the void he left behind.

You shifted on your feet, tugging the hem of your shirt nervously. Would he look different? Would he see you differently? The questions hung in the air, refusing to leave your mind until a shrill whistle pulled you back to the present. You turned, eiyes searching the crowd until you found him—towering, broad-shouldered, and unmistakably König. He scanned the platform, his face softening as his gaze settled on you.

A shy smile crept across his face as he made his way toward you, and for a moment, you were transported back to those sunlit days of your youth, when things had felt so much simpler.

It all started with your mothers’ friendship. Best friends since college, they’d practically planned your childhood for you. König was only a year older than you, and from the moment you could walk, you were both destined to be together, in some way.

You remembered the first day you met. He’d clung to his mother’s hand, hiding behind her leg and peeking out at you with wide, wary eyes. You’d been bolder, grabbing his hand with a grin and pulling him along to the sandbox in the backyard. From that day, he was by your side.

As you grew older, the two of you became a package deal. You were there for his scraped knees and awkward stammers, and he was there for your wild ideas and adventurous spirit. Nights were filled with hushed laughter as you lay side by side, pointing out constellations and dreaming of the future. In some ways, you had always been each other’s safe place.

By the time you hit high school, you couldn’t deny the spark that had always lingered between you. Sometimes it was in a gaze held just a second too long, or the comforting warmth of a hug that lasted just a bit longer than it needed to. You’d both dated other people, of course. It was never the right time. When you were single, König wasn’t, and vice versa, and somehow the right moment always seemed just out of reach.

Konig gazed at you from across the room, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief just like when you were kids. But there was something different now - a heat that made your breath catch. You'd been best friends since childhood, always inseparable. Now, after years apart at different colleges, you were finally reunited.

"Remember when we used to play knights and dragons in your backyard?" Konig asked with a grin, moving closer his blue eyes lighting up with a playful glint.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the memory bringing a fond warmth to your heart. "How could I forget? You always insisted on being the dragon."

“Of course,” he said with mock gravity. “Dragons are misunderstood creatures. The knights just don’t see it.”

You rolled your eyes. “You were a little too convincing, König. You made a pretty scary dragon, stomping around and growling. Sometimes I’d forget we were playing, and I’d get so scared.”

König’s grin widened. “Good, that was the plan. Besides, I was only trying to convince you to join me and be a dragon, too.”

A memory surfaced, making you chuckle. “There was that one time I managed to tie you to the tree with my scarf. Mom was horrified when she found you.”

He laughed, the sound filling the room. “I think I still have a scar from that battle,” he joked, rubbing his arm with mock seriousness.

“Serves you right for kidnapping me,” you teased. “You were always taking me to your dragon lair, stacking up pillows and chairs as your ‘fortress.’ I thought I was such a brave knight, charging in to rescue myself from your ‘evil clutches.’”

“Little did you know, I was just waiting for you to join my side,” he murmured, a hint of something deeper in his voice, “dragons always had tricks up their sleeves, and I’ve grown since then.”

“Oh? Have you now? What does that mean Mr. Dragon?” You’d asked him with your voice still holding that teasing tone to it.

"Well, I've learned some new tricks since then," he murmured, his voice low. König’s gaze settled on you, his expression softened by the warmth of the memories but there was something else lingering in those crystal hues —a quiet intensity that made your pulse quicken.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice breaking the silence, “do you ever think about those days?”

“All the time,” you replied honestly, your smile fading into something softer. “It was so simple back then. We just… fit.”

He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. There was a look on his face you couldn’t quite place—hopeful, maybe even vulnerable. It felt as if there were countless words and emotions swimming just beneath the surface, things neither of you had ever said.

“Remember when you’d chase me down, shouting about ‘brave knights’ and trying to ‘rescue’ me from my ‘evil dragon plans’?” he asked, his grin wide and boyish as he leaned in closer jumping back to the previous memory.

“Oh, I remember,” you replied, meeting his gaze, a laugh slipping from your lips. “You took your dragon role very seriously. I always enjoyed the way we played.”

“You were the only one I ever wanted to play with, The only knight I wanted to take. Maybe I just wanted you for myself,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Suddenly the air between you felt charged. Before you could respond, he reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek. His gaze held yours, and for a moment, the years and distance melted away. The warmth in his eyes was familiar, but there was a new intensity that sent a flutter through your chest. Your heart raced as years of buried feelings came rushing to the surface.

Your breath hitched at his touch. "Konig," you whispered, unable to look away from his intense gaze.

He leaned in closer, his lips just inches from yours. "I've missed you," he breathed. "More than you know."

Time seemed to stand still as you teetered on the edge of this moment. Part of you wanted to pull away, to preserve the friendship you'd cherished for so long. But a stronger part longed to close the distance between you, to finally act on the attraction that had simmered beneath the surface for years.

Konig's hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you gently towards him. Your eyes fluttered closed as his lips met yours in a soft, tentative kiss. A jolt of electricity shot through you at the contact. The kiss deepened as years of pent-up longing poured out.

You leaned into his touch, your skin tingling where his fingers made contact. when you pulled yourself back from his feverish kiss words slipped past you for a moment before you recalled his previously mention of some ‘new tricks’ You found your voice, though it was barely a whisper. “You mentioned something earlier… about new tricks?”

Konig's eyes darkened as he stepped even closer, the heat from his body enveloping you. "The kind that might make a knight surrender willingly to a dragon," he said, his lips curving into a seductive smile.

Your pulse quickened as memories flooded back - stolen glances, lingering hugs, the ache of wanting more but never daring to cross that line. Now, the years of separation had stripped away your hesitation, leaving only raw desire in its wake.

"I think I'd like to see these new tricks of yours," you said boldly, surprising yourself with your forwardness.

Konig's eyebrows rose, a mixture of surprise and hunger flashing across his face. He slid his hands down to your waist, pulling you flush against him.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice husky. "Once we cross this line, there's no going back."

You wound your arms around his neck, reveling in the solid warmth of him. You nodded, your heart pounding. "I'm sure. I've wanted this - wanted you - for so long. I've never been more sure of anything," you breathed.

With a low growl, Konig captured your lips again in a searing kiss. His tongue swept into your mouth as his hands roamed your body, igniting sparks wherever he touched. You threaded your fingers through his hair, reveling in the softness as you pulled him closer.

"I've dreamed of this for so long," Konig murmured against your skin. His hands roamed your body, igniting sparks everywhere they touched. Konig broke the kiss, trailing his lips along your jaw to your ear. "I've dreamed of this," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. “Of touching you like this, of finally showing you that dragons… never let go.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine as he nipped gently at your earlobe causing your breath to be caught as König's words sent a shiver down your spine.. You gasped, arching into him as his hands slid under your shirt, tracing patterns on your bare skin. His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You tilted your head, giving him better access as your fingers tightened in his hair.

"König," you gasped, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through you.

He pulled back slightly, his blue eyes dark with desire as they met yours. "Say it again," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "Say my name."

"König," you breathed, savoring the way it felt on your tongue after so long you breathed out his name once more, your head spinning with desire. "I want..."

"Tell me," he urged, his voice low and husky. "Tell me what you want."

You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, seeing your own longing reflected in his eyes. "I want you," you said firmly. "All of you. No more holding back."

A slow, predatory smile spread across his face and a growl rumbled in his chest as he claimed your lips again, the kiss deep and possessive. His hands slid down your sides, gripping your hips and pulling you flush against him. You could feel the heat of his body through your clothes, igniting a desperate need for more. He separates from you, pulling you into his arms, lifting you with ease over his shoulder and a gentle tap to your ass as he carried you towards the bedroom, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

He laid you gently on the bed, hovering over you with a look of pure adoration. His fingers trailed along your cheek, down your neck, leaving goosebumps in their wake. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his eyes roaming your face as if memorizing every detail.

You reached up, cupping his face in your hands. "I can't believe this is really happening," you whispered, a smile tugging at your lips.

König leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, before capturing your lips once more. This kiss was slower, deeper, filled with years of longing and unspoken feelings. His hand slid under your shirt, caressing the soft skin of your stomach before inching higher.

You arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping you. König took the opportunity to trail kisses down your neck,

König's lips blazed a trail down your neck, pausing to suck gently at your pulse point.

You gasped, arching into him as pleasure coursed through your body. His hand continued its upward journey under your shirt, fingers skimming the underside of your breast.

"Is this okay?" he murmured against your skin, ever the gentleman even in the throes of passion.

"Yes," you breathed, tugging at the hem of his shirt. "More than okay."

He sat up, quickly pulling his shirt over his head before helping you out of yours. His eyes roamed your newly exposed skin hungrily, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

"Gods, you're beautiful," he said, voice filled with awe.

You reached for him, pulling him back down to you. The feeling of skin on skin was electrifying, and you both gasped at the contact.

This feeling was almost ethereal, just the two of you as König’s hands, rough with years of experience carved into every callus, explored your body. His lips travel down your neck, going further south down your body with his lips leaving marks everywhere on your body it made contact.

His hands traveled further to your pants as his tongue slides out and circles your nipple. Audible pops are heard as he undoes the buttons and he slides them off, his hands resting at the edge of your underwear as he switches now giving your other nipple his attention with your back arched at the feeling. He looks up at you through his lashes before releasing your nipple with an audible pop. He steps back as tiny pants escape from your lips, admiring you and the wet spot in between your legs. König's hands wander down your body, his touch leaving trails of fire in their wake. He pauses at the waistband of your underwear, fingers toying with the elastic.

"May I?" he asks, his voice low and husky.

You nod, breathless with anticipation. Slowly, teasingly, he slides them down your legs, revealing you completely to his hungry gaze.

A breath is sucked in on your part as he just stands and admires you before kneeling in front of you, gently wrapping his hands on your legs before pulling you to him.

"Exquisite," he murmurs, drinking in the sight of you. His hands skim up your thighs, thumbs brushing maddeningly close to where you need him most. A kiss is left on the inside of your legs refusing to give you more.

Relief isn’t immediate, instead he teases you. Kisses are left on your thighs, his nose nudged your bud before ignoring it once more and kissing around your waist. A whine leaves you as your hips thrust upwards towards his face before one of his hands pin your waist against the mattress and he says “I’ve waited for you for so long, I plan to take my time with you meine liebe”

His mouth follows the path of his hands, lips and tongue worshipping your skin. He takes his time, mapping out the curve of your hip, the dip of your waist, the swell of your breasts.

You writhe beneath him, lost in sensation. His hair tickles your skin as he travels lower, teeth grazing your sensitive flesh.

"König, please..." you whimper, hands fisting in the sheets.

"Please what?" he teases, breath ghosting over your core. "Use your words, Liebling."

"Touch me," you beg, hips canting upwards. "Make me yours."

A low growl rumbles in his chest. "As you wish."

His tongue delves between your folds, licking and stroking until you're trembling on the brink of release. Just as you're about to shatter, he pulls back, leaving you desperate and aching.

"Not yet," he commands, voice rough with desire. "I want to be inside you when you come undone."

He positions himself at your entrance, the head of his cock nudging your slick folds. You're so wet, so ready for him.

"Look at me," he demands, blue eyes boring into yours. "I want to see every expression as I claim you."

Slowly, inch by tortuous inch, he sinks into your heat. You gasp at the stretch, walls clenching around him. He groans, head falling forward to rest against your neck.

"Fuck, you feel incredible," he pants, hips twitching as he tries to maintain control. "So tight, so perfect. Made just for me."

You wrap your legs around his waist, urging him deeper. He responds with a fierce thrust, burying himself to the hilt. You cry out, nails digging into his shoulders.

He sets a relentless pace, each snap of his hips driving you closer to the edge. The bed creaks beneath you, headboard slamming against the wall with the force of his thrusts.

"That's it, take it," he growls, angling his hips to hit that special spot inside you. "Take everything I give you."

Your orgasm builds, coiling tighter with each passing second. König leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. You moan into his mouth, tongue tangling with his as your bodies move together.

"Come for me," he commands against your lips. "Let go, Liebling. I've got you."

With a final thrust, he sends you flying over the edge. Your vision whites out, pleasure consuming you as you shatter in his arms. König follows soon after, spilling himself deep inside you with a guttural groan.

For a long moment, you simply cling to each other, chests heaving as you come down from the high. König presses tender kisses to your face, murmuring words of praise and devotion.

"I love you," he whispers, voice rough with emotion. "I love you so much it hurts."

You cup his face, coaxing his mouth to yours for a soft, sweet kiss. "I love you too," you breathe against his lips. "Always have, always will."

“Be my knight?” He asks as he caresses your hair, admiring you.

“Anything for you my dangerous dragon. Just come home to me?” You say as you rest your head on his chest.

He smiles, the expression so full of love and contentment that it makes your heart ache. “I’ll always come home to you, even if it means I have to set a castle on fire” he says and you both laugh before kissing each other once more. This is everything you've ever wanted, everything you've ever needed. Your König, your soulmate, your forever, now he's finally yours.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

[sainzproductions]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 ⋆ 𝐜. 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐳

where you belatedly realize, you and carlos may never want the same things in life

INSTAGRAM 🔒

liked by lewishamilton, landonorris and others

yourusername favorite time of the year🌅🧜🌊🩷🍷

carlossainz55 eres mi chica favorita todos los días

translation: you're my favorite girl every day

landonorris i think my invite got lost in the mail..

yourusername sorry i didn't want my competition on a trip with me🙄

landonorris why are you so jealous of me

landonorris carlossainz55 tell her who came in your life first🤨

carlossainz55 y/n did. '10. she was wearing a black cami top, with a dark navy blue jacket with a nets print in the front.

yourusername 💅💅💅

landonorris okay... you weirdos🙄 go and be disgusting off my timeline

yourusername you want me to fly you out huh?

landonorris so badly... i'll do anything for it😩🙏

maxverstappen1 can i fly out with lando? 🙋

yourusername depends, can you make it clap?🤔

maxverstappen1 i can make it go wooo!!

↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-

You'd somehow, found yourself entrusted with a bright eyed, enthusiastic baby who was blowing bubbles from his mouth; chubby arms flailing by his side, as you held his small frame cautiously. His mother, one of carlos' many cousin had dropped the baby on your lap, before clamoring towards the bathroom in a haste to relieve herself.

“Don't look so stiff, y/n.” Blanca laughed at your shaken expression, crossing her arms in a resolute manner when you tried to hand the babbling baby to her. “Consider it practice, hermosa. He loves you, look.” she raises her eyebrows, gesturing with her hands to the baby who's bright eyes were intent on your face, giggling and muttering incoherently to himself.

You held the baby like it was a foreign object, hands hoisting him up by the armpits— your posture betraying your lack of finese in handling a fragile human being. In all the years, you've maintained a safe distance from any and possibly all soft headed creatures called babies. You've always appeared scared, and cautious when presented the opportunity to hold other people's children, opting to, instead politely decline and shrink behind whoever was accompanying you at the present moment.

“He's... something.” You tilt your head at the baby, slightly taken aback by the way he mirrors your movement. Blanca laughs, clearly enjoying your predicament.

“I don't know who's more charmed.” She teases, leaning back in her seat as she watches the hesitance slowly, but surely transform into fascination. The young one, as if sensing your initial reactions to his person, garbled more nonesense as if to maximize his cuteness— his chubby cheeks buldged, lips wobbling as he giggled, appearing delighted by your complex expressions.

“He's drooling, blanca.” You state, exssperated yet somewhat amused.

“Babies drool, y/n. They aren't the most intelligent creatures at that point.” You faintly hear the distinct sound of a shutter clicking, and you snap your head towards her— catching her with a phone in hand, a sheepish expression present on her face. “You looked identical, i'm sorry! I've always thought this would be you, someday. I mean, you went at it like bunnies when we were all younger—”

“Blanca, eso no es algo que digas en voz alta,” that's not something you say out loud. you chide, feeling your cheeks warm.

“Lo siento, hermosa.” She giggles, nudging your shoulder in apology, although you couldn't help but notice her expression shift slightly. “You can't blame me. When i think of you and my dear brother, i see you with ten little juniors running around your yard whilst the rest of us just borrow one of your children.”

You roll your eyes playfully at her ridiculous dream, “If i ever let it get to ten, you should tell him to get off me.”

The baby you were holding whines, wriggling to rest his head on your hands while blinking slowly. He was incredibly well behaved despite his drooling antics; and you couldn't help but notice the distinct features of a sainz in his face. Those warm brown eyes... and he was growing into his tall nose and matching trademark grin. He was adorable, you begrudgingly admit.

In a lapse of proper judgement, you allowed the baby to rest it's head on your shoulder. The toddler melting into your arms, quietly. Well behaved. Making himself comfortable in your arms. He was so tiny, you muse. So fragile and weak, you'd easily understood why there was such a thing people call a mother's instinct.

“You should have one first.” Blanca states, a soft smile on her face while you have your moment of realization.

“What should she have first?” Carlos asks, raising an eyebrow at your hushed conversations, pressing a chaste kiss on your cheek as he takes the seat beside you.

“Kids, carlos. It's impossible you have never thought of it.” Blanca answers like it was the obvious.

“I don't think it's anywhere near our future.” Carlos chuckles as if his sister had just told a joke, appearing taken aback as he belatedly notices the toddler on your arms who'd easily amused himself with the strands of your hair.

“How can you say that?” Blanca chides, hints of reproach evident in her tone. It is, afterall, somewhat strange that he thought of it in such a way— your relationship had been longer than any of hers had lasted, and it left a truly icky taste in her mouth.

“It's a converstation between y/n and i, Blanca. I don't think it's any of your business.” Carlos turned civil all of a sudden, snapping at his sister.

You bit your tongue to stop yourself from saying anything, the atmosphere suddenly becoming charged with tension.

“Oh muchas gracias, chica! I'm sorry i shoved him in your care,” the unnamed cousin thankfully interruped, oblivious to the tension in between you three as she took the baby from your hands. “Carlos, i haven't seen you in some time! How long will you be in spain?” she started chatting up to your boyfriend casually.

Blanca saw your eyes cloud briefly, she could distinctly class the change in your visage to longing.

Perhaps you weren't at all allergic to babies. Maybe she'd read you wrong. Maybe Carlos read you wrong.

↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 1, 894,929 others

carlossainz55 you and me against the world

landonorris called me single in every language

username taking a toaster bath later🚶‍♀️🚶‍♀️

username my unproblematic parents🥺😭😭

username i'd trade a limb to have a love like carlos and y/n🙃

↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-

The drive to your home was silent. Neither of you spoke. You allowed yourself to bask in the tender, but welcomed ache in your limbs as a result of a day spent under the sun and swimming for the better part of the eventful day. You'd thoroughly enjoyed the time you've spent just frolicking in the water and playing around with Carlos. It was always worthwile, there weren't many opportunities you had to spend some uninterrupted time together.

If he wasn't on a racetrack, zooming by in a blur, he was occupied with meetings, press and proper workouts inbetween, leaving you with scraps of his attention.

“Y/n?” Carlos repeats your name, failing to snap you out of your thoughts. With one hand on the steering wheel, and the other in your grasp, he tugs at your intetwined hands. It made you look at him. “I've been calling your name a couple of times, querida. Is there anything wrong?” He worries.

“Nothing's wrong.” You assured him, trying to muster a smile. He pauses, as if measuring his words. “You've been quiet.” you hum in response, looking out of the window as the car moves again.

“Talk to me y/n...” he utters, resembling a plea.

You take a deep breath, clearing your throat. “I'd rather not.”

His jaw clenches, muscles tensing at your short responses. “Is this about the conversation with Blanca? We've talked about this a million times; there's no one else i'd want all the permanent shit other than you. But you know right now is a very delicate time of my career and i can't—”

“risk jeopardizing any of the opportunities that comes my way.” You repeat monotonously, looking at him. “I know, Carlos. I know where i stand.” you said it with such certainty, the fact itself ingrained in your very being after so many years of falling behind his priorities.

He's made it clear, time and time again.

“But i don't want to wake up one day, and realize i have to start all over again because i spent all my time waiting for a moment that would never happen.” you weren't loud, nor were you screaming. Yet it dealt the same weight and hurt, that made him unable to refute you.

[rebelspykatie]

The Gift That Keeps on Giving - Part 4

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Steve’s had enough of the teasing and drags Eddie into the dressing room by his wrist for some privacy, locking Robin and Hopper outside. Laughter reaches his ears but he doesn’t care. Hopper raps his knuckles on the door again and yells ten minutes. It sounds like they shuffle away from the door until all Steve can hear is the low thrum of the baseline again and his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. 

As soon as the door closes, he crowds Eddie against it. Even though he hasn’t been on stage yet, Eddie’s glistening with a sheen of sweat that Steve wants to lick off his neck. He angles their bodies together, one hand on the door beside Eddie’s head, the other lightly resting on his hip. 

“Is this okay?” 

“There’s probably some mistletoe lying around here somewhere if you need an excuse.” 

That’s all the permission Steve needs. The distance closes between them and he’s not sure who moves first, but something hot coils in his gut when their lips meet. The culmination of all his feelings over the past few weeks flooding out into all the places they touch. Somehow, it feels different with Eddie already. That first touch feels like a lifetime of longing coming to fruition, despite only knowing each other a few weeks. Such a short amount of time to fall for someone, but he has. 

Electricity zaps from where his fingertips graze that pale skin of Eddie’s abdomen all the way down to his toes. It feels a bit like floating. One swipe of Eddie’s mouth against his and he could take flight. But it’s also anchoring him in place. Eddie is frenetic against him, but it’s like the world around them has stopped, giving them space to work this out before continuing to let the minutes tick by. 

Hands slip around Steve’s body, one fisting into the back of his sweater and the other gliding smoothly over the nape of his neck, toying with the ends of his hair. Steve melts into him, getting impossibly closer and still not close enough. It’s delicious and everything Steve dreamed of, but they don’t have enough time to get into anything more than a few heated kisses. That insistent warning from Hopper still ringing in Steve’s ears. Ten minutes. 

When he pulls away, Eddie’s lips chase him with a soft whine. 

“No, wait- come back,” he paws at Steve’s sweater trying to drag him back in. 

Steve puts his hand over Eddie’s face and pushes back. “You have a show to do.” 

“Who cares about a show?” His smirk turns downright lascivious. “I could get a show right here.”

“There will be plenty of time after the show for more of…whatever this is, right?” He’s hesitant, despite all signs pointing to Eddie being in all the way on this, too. 

“I’ll make time for whatever you want.” 

“I’m being serious, Eddie. You’re a rockstar, and I’m just some guy.”

Eddie jostles him a bit, grabbing onto his shoulders and shaking gently. “You’re way more than just some guy to me, Steve. It’s like I’ve had my own personalized present delivered to me in a dorky Christmas sweater by Santa Claus himself.”

“Hey! My sweater isn’t-”

“It is, and it’s adorable.” He accentuates this point with a kiss to the tip of Steve’s nose. “And we have all the time in the world to figure it all out. We don’t have to have all the answers right now, five minutes before I go on stage. But this is the last show of the year, kind of a hometown thing. So, I’m all yours after tonight.” 

“You live in Indy?”

“When we’re not recording or touring, yeah. I told you about my uncle.” Steve nods, remembering that late night conversation about the uncle that adopted him. “He’s my home. Lives about an hour outside of Indy. It’s a good place to hide.” 

“So you’ll be close?” Steve lets himself lean into Eddie again, whose arms wrap around him and hold him tightly against his chest. 

“For as long as you’ll let me be.” 

“Merry Christmas to me, then.” And he kisses Eddie again. Soft and sweet. Perhaps it’s Steve’s turn to get the gift he deserves.

END

Now on AO3

Thanks for reading my loves, merry christmas!

[artsninspo]

FORGIVELESS - XI - I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU BEFORE, IT'S NOT GON’ END HOW YOU WANT 🥀

« previous part

➨ rio's library - good girl nbc

「 ✦ full library & archive ✦ 」

MOODBOARD 🖼️

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) X Reader

Word Count: ~4.3K

Warning: NSFW, 18+, this one's 🌶️ 🌶️ 🌶️

Authors Note: The finale is here, this is the series' last chapter. I don't want to spoil anything so enjoy 😊

XI - I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU BEFORE, IT'S NOT GON’ END HOW YOU WANT 🥀

You look around at all the smiling faces as the party dies down. Exhaling you find your eyes at the dessert table only to find them absent of all the sweet treats you’d spent the morning agonising over. There was hardly any food left in the aluminium trays either but people seemed satisfied enough. You find your mother and Tia’s sharing a laugh and everyone else enjoying themselves similarly. You can’t remember a time in recent years where you’ve felt this peaceful and sure about where life was taking you. When you first discovered James’ infidelity it had been heartbreaking. You felt like your marriage or at least the image you had of it was over and so were the happiest times of your life. You felt like your next chapter would have been tears and shame for being a divorcee, being unable to keep a man or worse yet, not being able to leave and somehow being convinced to stay in misery. It was the reason you sought to get even in the first place. You’d have been comfortable with a subtle betrayal. A betrayal all the same, not equal to an affair but equally as devastating to James’ ego. Whether or not you decided to share your indiscretions in the beginning it was enough just to know you were no longer giving him your all when all he had was pieces for you, and not even the best parts. If only you had known then what you know now. You’d been selling yourself short of endlessly appealing possibilities right around the corner. There was no need to cry. James didn't deserve you and he was far from the big fish he positioned himself as. He didn't have enough good qualities for you to be as wrapped up in him as you were. If you had vision then you would’ve left the minute he started acting up. 

You read the final divorce decree one more time and smile seeing you’ve won all the contested points along with all your entitlements. James has been a kitten since hisincident. He’s been pleasant every single time you’ve come across him for a hearing and signed the papers no problem. There’ve been no more stupid messages and you’ve been free to move forward without prying eyes and stress. Even James’ mother had relaxed her tone and all of the betrayal talk. You know it's because of Rio, although you’ve never talked about it. Being a part of his life for these past few months has made one thing clear; he’s ready for war about anyone he loves. You were free to move on officially. Freedom had ever felt so good. It was slow mornings without the need to prepare lunches or rushing to look presentable only for it to be disregarded and unappreciated. It was teaching classes at the yoga studio in the afternoons and sometimes shopping or lavish dinners and cafes in the evenings. It was the kind of life most dream of - especially after something so tumultuous and you were acutely aware and infinitely grateful for your new reality. You smell his cologne and the hair on the back of your neck stands up before you feel familiar hands take your hips pulling them gently to rest against him. Your body relaxes further as you look at everyone in your new place enjoying themselves.

“You did so good decorating this place they don't want to leave” Rio mutters, placing a kiss on your cheek.

“It’s only nine” you defend your guests.

“The food is gone and they’ve been here since three” he complains and you turn to face him amused with his possessiveness. The past few weeks had been wearing him thin. He’d been working so hard managing his establishments and deliveries to your place he was stressed.

“Oh shit, my cousins’ back. That means we gotta leave before the not so subtle remarks start” Tia says aloud. Instead of awkward silence there’s laughter. Rio’s never been one to hide who he is or make apologies for it.

“Oooh look at the time! I’m missing my show” Your mom says shooting up from her seat, you roll your eyes knowing she’s headed to the guest suites in your building to watch her crush on television.

“Let’s help clean up this housewarming, divorce party” Marisol remarks, always considering others.

“Ladies, it’s taken care of. Drive safe” Rio interjects, waving them off. It shouldn’t surprise you that he’s got it handled but it does.

“There’s that personality we know and love” Tia scoffs now in front of you. “Drive safe? That’s pretty polite Y/N, your manners are rubbing off, usually it would be it’s time to leave, go”  Tia teases, hugging you.

“Thanks for coming Tee and I know, I’m going to love whatever it is in that huge box” you smile.

“Oh I know you will. Call me tomorrow love” She smiles, kissing your cheek.

“Bye Tia” Rio rasps as she adjusts her purse on her shoulder.

“Stop stressing it doesn't look good on you. People always love the Rio experience the restaurant will do as well as all the others”  Tia says giving Rio a hug.

“She’s right” you add with a smile, Rio does the same. More of the same goodbyes happen until the place is empty. Then like clockwork four women wearing cleaning uniforms walk in, getting to work.

“Did I tell you I love you today?” You ask looking up at Rio.

“You did, love you too” Rio responds lowering to pull you into a kiss. It’s slow and just as meaningful as his first I love you’s. That had occurred on your first real official date and on a beach. A replica of the night James had stolen from you in Mexico with that stupid message. The beachouse was gorgeous as was the experience. No matter how busy work got Rio never missed an opportunity to show his love for you. It was something you didn't know you needed until being with him.

“How long are they gonna be?” you whisper and Rio chuckles knowing what’s on his mind is the exact same thing that's on yours.

“About an hour, they’re the best. It'll be like no one was here” Rio whispers in response. You watch as your presents are piled into a corner, and you can't remember the last time you were loved so generously but a community of people.

“Your family is sooooo good to me Rio” you tell him honestly. Each of the few women that had been invited to celebrate the day with you came with full hands. While the women in your family came with mostly envelopes from the older crowd. They’d already given you so much after your wedding, it felt wrong to ask for more during your divorce. The invitations were devoid of requests for gifts but still no one came empty handed. Everyone in attendance had decided that the joint venture Housewarming and Divorce party deserved both gifts and commotion.

“Family knows treating you right goes a long way with me” Rio mutters as you move out of the kitchen to let the cleaners have their space.

“Have you eaten?” you ask Rio.

“Not hungry” he says, stopping you from making him a plate before the food is discarded.

“Baby, I need you to take the day off tomorrow to spend it with me. No restaurant talk, no stress, just good food and us” you tell him. It’s your first request of this type and you know Rio will oblige it.

“Ok” he agrees at the same time as his work phone sounds. Exhaling, he answers with his eyes closed and his shoulders fall. “I’ll be there in thirty” he sighs.

“I’m sorry, I gotta go handle this” Rio says, giving you a little PTSD.

“Okay, let me change out of this dress and come with you” you swallow.

“It can't wait Mama, if you're coming it has to be now” Rio responds. Nodding you grab your phone and a purse before grabbing his hand. You know it's gonna be bad with how silent he is. It’s something you’ve learned about him. He gets silent and then he’s in the zone which can be either really good or bad depending on where you fit in the spectrum. Always the gentleman he gets the door for you and you ride off into the darkness with him in the G-Wagon. The drive into the heart of the city takes you thirty minutes giving Rio time to stew in his anger. There are bustling business all around and you cringe having overheard a few calls of Rio admonishing contractors for the delays and imperfections. Rio was ‘bleeding money’ as he put it and you could visualise what that meant now more than ever.

“Baby, when we get in there let’s try to be calm” you interject as he parks out front.

“I love you and your softness but that’s not good for business” Rio says getting out of the car. He gets your door and you hold his hand hoping to transfer some good energy to him as his body stiffens. He opens the door and your jaw drops at the fruit of his labour. It’s the most gorgeous restaurant you’ve ever set foot in. Something straight out of a dream.

“I’ll be back” he says, kissing your forehead and striding off as you look around. The place looks like a tropical oasis. The rich green foliage on the walls and ceilings put the hairstylist salon walls to shame. It’s like a lush upscale botanical garden. You just know it’ll be all over social media once the door’s open. There are three levels as far as your eyes can see and two glass pod booths that seem suspended in the air. You know Rio and that the experience of being up there probably costs a fortune.  Hearing Rio’s footsteps return you exhale in admiration of his accomplishments.

“Christopher, you gotta take it easy on this team, it's gorgeous here. I think it’s your best work yet” You tell him honestly.

“I need this one to be prefect and they fucked up the sign” he snaps. Frowning you follow him outside.

“Nobody’s gonna care about the sign when inside looks liiiiii-” your words hitch as the sign lights up. Your heart races and body heats as you read your name in bright lights that are your favourite colour in fluorescence. You’re at a complete loss for words and feel tears stinging as you turn to Rio who you find on bended knee. 

Your heart hitches.

Breathes cease.

Vision blurs.

Sound becomes muffled and you blink to everything happening in slow motion. 

Rio, the proudest man you’ve ever met is on one knee in the middle of the city for you. Outside of the most gorgeous venue, restaurant, whatever, you have ever laid eyes on, that is also named after you? You can feel your brain begin to short circuit.

“I’m not good with speeches. All I know is that this is the happiest I've been in my entire life. You make me better in every way baby, and I want forever to experience life with you. Forever you make you happy, to appreciate you and love you. Please Y/N, say yes and be my wife” he says with his brown eyes shining in the well lit street. Your eyes have been locked on his the entire time you haven't looked at the shimmering rock waiting to grace your finger. The literal ring of your dreams. 

Perfection.

“Yes” you tell him, nodding furiously. Smiling Rio stands and you kiss him hard before he puts on the ring. There's cheering outside from strangers and onlookers. You smile looking at your ring as Rio takes you inside only for you to be startled by the cheering of both of your families. Including the ladies you just said goodbye to.

“Rio, baby it’s perfect” you swallow about to lose it and he hugs you tight. Family and friends give you a moment to enjoy the proposal and this time when Rio kisses you the hooting and hollering is from loved ones.

Your heart is beyond full.

Turning back to Rio you wonder how he managed all of this, how he’d managed to make this happen so perfectly in so little time.

“No wonder you were stressed” you smile, kissing him again. “How’d you keep all this from me?” you ask.

“Tia helped” Rio smiles holding you.

“Congratulations baby girl!” Your mom beams taking you and Rio into a group hug. “Christopher baby, I love how you love my daughter and I’m so happy for the both of you” your mom smiles giving you a kiss on the cheek each.

“Thanks Ma.” Rio smiles melting your heart even more. 

The ground floor is turned into a dance floor and after the congratulations are in order people begin to party.  You mingle and smile for pictures while letting people see the ring. It's exciting, it's overwhelming, it's heartwarming, it's real love. Processing the day you sit still on your fiance’s lap trying to piece together how he’d managed such an expression of love. How he’d seamlessly put together a proposal far better than anything you could have fathomed in so little time. How there were details to reflect your personality all over the space. You place your palm over his as he holds you close. Your life has changed so much in so little time. The difference between then and now is so glaring. One man, if James could be called that, was constantly busy and made up excuses to inflate his ego and importance of his job. All while while he was cheating and left you at your anniversary dinner alone to appease his mistress. The other man, Rio really was busy as an entrepreneur and yet he did not exploit your lack of questioning, he’d honoured your trust with loyalty and devotion. While James had been whoring outside of your marriage, Rio had been toiling away to build a strong covenant.

“Rio, tell your staff to lock up. Let them party, I want to go home” you tell him ready for some one on one time.

“Tia and Granny said there are supposed to be speeches” Rio informs as you turn to face him. No response is required as you raise a brow countering his point with one of his infamous raised brow ‘Rio’ looks. Smiling in an instant he stands with you.

“Come on mama” he says walking you out of the venue. There's no time for goodbyes, only time for a last look. “Tia says the announcement photo should be your hand held up wearing the ring against the lit sign. Her reference was Rihanna holding the football for the superbowl” Rio laughs getting your door and you smile.

“Her mind is something” you laugh, shaking your head as Rio closes the door.

Looking down at your ring again you smile holding it out in front of you. It’s the last thing you expected and a very pleasant surprise. You and Rio had spent little to no time talking about marriage. He’d been there as you found your apartment, looked through catalogues for the furnishings and decorated. He’d helped when it was asked of him and he had his key coming over on whatever night you weren’t over at his house. He’d given your space and freedom, never complaining or applying pressure.

“You like it?” Rio asks, drawing you from your thoughts.

“Yes but I love you more” you respond holding over to kiss him at the red light.

“I know,” he nods, holding your hand. “But it was good? The proposal?” He asks.

“Yes!” You swallow, nodding vigorously. “I’m the luckiest girl in the world” you beam believing your words as your ring hits the light glistening once again.

“I love you” he repeats heading into the underground parking of your building. Once in your spot you unbuckle your seat belt and grab his face  and smother him in kisses until he changes the pace, slowing things down so you can feel them in your toes. Your hands fall as things heat up. Rio's hand goes to your neck holding you feel his fingers fasten his hold stabilising you for the kiss. You feel the goosebumps first before the sensations start between your legs. There’s nothing like being with a man who wants you this much. The kiss only breaks when the two of you are panting and breathless. Catching your breath you can see Rio is as ready as you are with the tent pitched in his pants.

“Come on” he says, seeing people walking to their cars. You take his hand once out of the car and head to the elevator. Another couple comes in and you stand in front of Rio hiding his predicament until they step off then you turn to face him. You hope it’s always like this. 

“Promise me it’ll be like this forever” you whisper looking up at him.

“Like what?” he asks as his hands rest on your ass.

“Like you're always happy to see me. We keep our chemistry. I want us to never lose the love and the kindness or the intimacy we share. I don't want to pretend around you or you around me ever. I don't want us to lose us.” you explain and he holds on to your every word. Rio nods, unable to figure out how it seemed everything he’d ever wanted was wrapped up in one person.

“Promise” he affirms without hesitation as the elevator door opens. Smiling, you turn to exit hand in hand. The need to kiss you is too much to wait for the door to open. Crowding your space Rio backs you into your front door kissing you right there. Everything about him makes you feel incredible. You both get lost in the moment and only break a part when breathing takes precedence over passion.

“Anything else you want from me?” Rio asks, ready to make you happy. You tug at his belt playfully in response.

“Babies?” Rio teases.

“Eventually” you laugh.

“Alright mama” Rio smiles unlocking your door and you gasp again completely surprised by another grand gesture. It’s dimly lit and tea light candles are twinkling in vases with red roses and petals adorning your living room and leading to the bedroom you assume.

“Baby” you laugh happier than ever. You hadn’t put any thought into the cleaning staff as another set of people doing Rio’s bidding. He smiles at your surprise. You walk in more feeling the petals under your feet and admire all the effort he’s put into making today special. “Thank you” you smile and he nods accepting your thanks without protest for once.

“You’re welcome” he says into your ear as you look out to see more decor on the balcony. Rio’s hands run down your thighs before coming up with the hemline of your dress. He steps forward leading you against the glass. You’re already wet for him after all the kissing and the day. “Tell me how you want me to fuck you baby?” He asks, calling back to your first time together. There are no words for how it makes you feel. 

He’s everything.

“I want you to tell me how you want me” you whisper placing your full trust in him. His eyes flicker and he backs up sitting on the couch. Excitement flashes in yours and you sit on his lap first.

“Unzip me?” you ask and he does, slowly. Turning you kiss him teasingly before slinking down onto your knees in your undergarments. You unzip him without direction nestled between his legs. He springs free ready to give new life and you kiss your king's sceptre. Your newest accessory sparkles in the candle light. Accentuating every hand stroke. Your eyes stay fixed on your fiancé whose eyes are fixed on you. It had taken some getting used to in the beginning but with practice you were becoming a pro at handling his size. Your head and hand slides to stroke his ego. Soft whispers of praise keep you inspired and aroused. You go to work feeling his body tighten, a precursor to his climax and when his hand guides your head you release control following his lead. You bob to his rhythm, sucking and licking his length to illicit praise. 

“Fuuuuu-” Rio’s words fade, his lids closing shut as the pleasure hits its climax.

You apply more suction continuing to your own rhythm as his hand falls from your head leaving you to your own devices. Looking up at him you take him as deep as you can and it’s his undoing. You stay in place as he tries to save you from the onslaught of his orgasm - you swallow every last drop. The sensation is too much for him. Fiery eyes watch you as his stomach rises and falls. He’s in awe of you. Pleasantly surprised and ready for round two. Kissing his tip having completed your task you revel in the way Rio looks at you. Every day your actions solidified more and more that you were the only one for him. Shaking his head he smiles as his energy returns. He must be the luckiest man in the world to have the most beautiful woman on her knees in front of him ready to do whatever he asked out of love. He feels you take hold of his manhood again as you wait patiently for him to return the favour of an orgasm. The thought alone makes you shudder, that’s how much effect he has on you.

“Are you trying to make my head explode?” He asks, sitting up and forward.

“I did” you tease with your mind in the gutter. 

Rio smiles, “Not that one mama”

“I was trying to please my fiancé” you smile testing out the new title. Rio’s chest burns with pride.

 “Fiancés don’t fuck like where about to mama” Rio promises. “This is too good,” he smiles. Way too good. “Now tell me what you want?” he asks, ready to oblige.

You stand making your way to the floor to ceiling windows and rid yourself of your panties. 

“I'd like you to help me enjoy the view” you smile politely. Rio finds you there unclasping your bra. The coolness of the glass against your nipples adds to the sensation. Anticipation swells as his hands trace your skin, teasing you for time. Rio’s need for you is at ten. There could never be anyone else. Ever. He didn't know what he’d done in a past lifetime to deserve a woman like you but he was thankful. He needed to taste you first, to make you come in waves until your delirium and arousal were so intertwined your lids would shut and moans were his only compass. Nothing tasted sweeter than your arousal and tonight you were wetter than usual as he turned you back to face him, propping one of your legs over his shoulder to better his access to your centre. These past few months he’d learned your body to the point of expertise knowing exactly what to do to get you to your climax. The feel of your hand on his head is another one of your tells. The visual of you swallowing flashes, giving him fuel to make you feel just as good or even better. He needed to make the start of forever special.

“Rio” your moans are breathy as your head arches back against the glass window. Your body goes stiff, only supported by Rio who doesn't let up. The sensations only further your already shallow breathing but do nothing to satisfy your want or need for him. You didn't understand how the by-product of excellent loving was insatiability.

“Right there, come for me” Rio says into your core. He watches you come and matches the same energy you had for him. He allows you to recover wearing a satisfied smirk before standing again. His eyes are on your lips but two slick fingers enter you the very moment he meets you in a kiss. You gasp making room for his tongue to slide in and claim its space.

“Rio” you moan against his kiss as his fingers send you into overstimulation. When he finally enters you your hands flatten onto the cool glass as he groans in pleasure. Rio felt like your body was made for him. Everything about you turned him on. The way your walls clung to his manhood made keeping a clear head hard. He wanted to be inside you all the time. It didn't matter how he delivered his strokes, both of you enjoyed the sensations equally. Placing a piss at the base of the back of your neck he grabs your waist bringing your hips back to meet his rhythm. Looking up, the ring on your finger catches his eye in the light. It ignites something in him and he fucks you lovingly into the glass fogging it up with the heat from your bodies. Eventually the two of you make it to the bed where you make love with a sensuality and awareness that only affirms you’re exactly where you're meant to be with a man that's ever better than your dreams could conjure. 

Showered, exhausted and happier than ever, your eyes watch the blackout curtains close to block out the sunrise. Rio pulls you into his arms and your body settles knowing you're in safe, capable hands. He leans in one more time and his kiss lays a claim to you. You meet him there, happily his; now and forever.

Author's note: Ladies and gentlemen thats all folks. FORGIVELESS is over and out. Thank you so much for reading my story, for commenting, reblogging and voting. You've made this process so much fun. I usually stay away from longer series because the fall off with the readers in the last few chapters kills my motivation to keep sharing but you guys have stuck beside me!!! It's infinitely appreciated. An Epilogue should be posted shortly I just didn't want this post to be overwhelmingly long.

Don't forget to like comment, reblog and vote - you all know the drill by now 😉

➨ epilogue

The story is also on wattpad you can read it and follow me HERE

TAGS: @meadows5 @wnbweasley @becauseimher @ariiaeltheedonn @woahthatshitfat @miniaturehideoutmentality @kokobells @ffenthusiastt @sowhatariyana @1xtral1983 @theegoddessofmelanin @fictionalreads @roxytheimmortal

[reverieblondie]

I can feel it in my bones, he was MEANT to be a girl dad

Okay...I know I should be writing my WIPs but GIRLDAD ROLAN!!!

I mean look at him! He would have the most gorgeous daughter! I would give him as many as he wanted...

I know for a fact he's the type to aways hold his little girls hand when they go out for walks. If she is pointing at things he will explain what it is with a sweet smile. Does she want to pet the kitty cats? With a quick spell she's talking to them and letting her feed the cats treats.

His daughter only wears the finest and softest of clothes, that he has a matching outfit with, because when she wears blue she wants to match with daddy and it always puts the biggest smile on her face when he does.

Every morning after Rolan wakes you up with a sweet kiss and a cup of tea or coffee whatever you prefer. He will go to her room and wake her up so gently rubbing his hand softly on her back to have her wake. Once she is up and had a big morning hug from dad, she's brushing her teeth with him, having him set out an outfit for her, then explaining to him how she wants her hair done for the day. (please imagine his daughter with her holding her hair in pigtails and Rolan just listens patently with a smile on his lips while crouching down on his knees with a brush in hand)

She attends the best primary school in the city and makes top marks due to Rolan wanting her to have every opportunity he never had the chance at. Never pressures her however, if she seems upset or over whelmed they will have a nice daddy daughter talk with her telling him how she feels as he holds her in his arms. Loves to call her his smart girl.

Often gets swept up in impromptu dances after dinner, spinning her around and dipping her so much till she is just a mess of giggles. Tickle fights and hide and seek are some other of her favorite games to play with dad.

Don't let Rolan find out a kid has a crush on his daughter, will defiantly send him into a pout of "she's too young, my little baby!" Will defiantly death stare said kid at drop off where you have to nudge him to stop.

During thunderstorms or scary dreams its always dad she is crying to first. Though she wants to sleep in your bed with you two Rolan is the one to give her a glass of water and walk her back to bed. She has to be his brave girl, but he will wait their with her telling stories of him and mommy till her little eyes get heavy.

Learns spells like how to make flowers bloom to always give her a surprise. Learns how to make her favorites along with yours, this will be the first spell she ever learn she made daddy's favorite flower: Orchids

Will begrudgingly let her do makeup on him and do his hair for practice, then if he needs a little break will send her to do the same to auntie Lia because "She told me she was jealous and wants a make over as well..."

When she starts developing hobbies he will always be in full support of them, like when she tried baking. Rolan endured eating a batch of burn and somehow raw cookies that she had spent all day trying to learn. He couldn’t take seeing her face flush and cheeks stained with tears of defeat. He told her that they were very good, but next time he will teach her his secret recipe instead and they can bake it together. Rolan will help teach her and support her always, he wouldn’t dare crush her dreams.

Tries his best not to spoil her, but she is just such a sweet and polite girl he can't help but what to shower her in anything she could ever want. He is wrapped around her little finger and everyone knows it. He is always bragging about her. Praising her achievements, just like she is always bragging about him to the other kids in her class.

Rolan always makes sure her birthday is exactly what she wants, a huge breakfast all her favorite people invited to the tower for a party to celebrate her. Gets so many presents anything she wants, one year she even got a kitty from Rolan

Everyday when he puts her to bed he reads a story to her till she gets sleepy, when he thinks she is asleep he will close the book and pick up her room for her. Before he walks out he leans down to give her a kiss on the forehead, and no matter how many times it happens when she mumbles out "I love you daddy." in her sleepy voice it always makes his heart swell.

"I love you too, my sweet girl."

(cut to Rolan coming to bed holding you tightly kissing your neck till finally whispering in your ear, "I want another baby...")

[harleys1nhawaii]

VALENTINE’S HEAD

pairing: dabi / todoroki touya x fem!reader

warnings: established relationship, +18 content, minors dni, smut, oral s3x (m receiving), mentions of killing, swearing, heavy language, fluff at end

a/n: i actually wrote this on his birthday (jan 18th) but my acc got shadow banned right after i posted it and it took days to get my acc fixed so i changed some parts and now this is somehow a valentines day fic

you have your own ways of pleasuring dabi, in both ways.

you’ve known him better than you’ve known yourself. you knew the every little inch of him from his neck to his ankles. from the areas that could be easily teased to the hard muscles under his mismatched skin. from the places he lets out the most groans when you touch, to the way of his blue flames ignite and encompass the whole dark room, letting him to see where your bodies meet with his one hand on your stomach, feeling the bulge in his palm.

but then, there was one thing you really haven’t tried on him before. you haven’t really given it much of thought and have decided to get back to the grind. truth be told, you had never been an “innocent” nor “coy” typa girl. even sometimes you’d be so straightforward and dirty with your words that it would leave dabi in a pure state of bewilderment. so the reason couldn’t be that. and you also weren’t unwilling or anything, either. so it also wouldn’t be this. but then, what was it?

why couldn’t you just wake your boyfriend up with his dick stuffed in your small mouth? what was the fucking reason god dammit?!

your eyes blink open as your back rises up from the sheets in sync, jumping awake from your sleep. after a minute of trying to catch your breath and stretching your limbs, you turn your head towards the bright side of the room. the light of the sunshine is a little too far from the bed where you two are laying on. the blinds are half closed and the windows cracked open.

you silently push your body from the warm bed sheets and sit with your legs crossed on the mattress. you don’t need to check the calendar on your phone to know what day it is. “february 14th.” you murmur, a soft smile making it’s way to your lips.

you’ve spent a good total of 2 weeks just to find him some good present but no, nothing just seemed to suit his heathen style ever. at some point you even just went up to him and asked him what his dream gift was. although, you realized that also ain’t gonna work when he responded with, “the dead body of endeavor.”

so now, there you were sitting on the bed and staring at his peaceful, still figure. feeling your chest tighten the more your eyes move lower, gazing at the naked skin and his staples with light shining on em. your fingers move before you can even help it, control is on your nerves but not in the brain that they’re all connected to. your fingertips stop right on the waistband of the boxer he’s wearing in the cold winter morning, body already burning with the quirk of heat. your eyes shimmer as you eye his length under the thick layer of the underwear, feeling your walls clench on nothing.

how long were you gonna wait to do this at this point? you could gladly gift him a morning sex on a day that he couldn’t give less fucks about. if not right now, never.

you gently rise your ass from the mattress by pushing it with your hands. a shiver runs down your spine from the loss of heat of the bed. you drop yourself between his legs and sit down. you feel your insides warm up as your hands find their way to the waistband of his boxer once again, taking it off and revealing his thick length.

you start off slow, considering vigilant. pumping it up and down and letting him get used to the sensation of your hands. a silent groan catches your ears when you take him inside your mouth, tongue swirling around his tip. you didn’t wanna wake him up now, just not yet. so you decided to keep your movements as slow and light as possible, giving his dick time to harden more. you pick up your pace when you feel his body move under you, his chest rising up with the deep breath he takes. you were just about to look at his eyes when you feel a hand grab on your hair and push your head forward to his now fully erect cock. your eyes close shut when you fight yourself to silent your gags, though it doesn’t really help when you hear your boyfriends mocking voice.

“good morning dollface.” he chuckles, voice husky and deep from being just woken up from his sleep. he looks at your cute struggling face with your brows furrowed, fighting to open your eyes as tears peek around the corners of them. “oh, is my girl too coy to look me in the eyes?” he pushes your head on his dick again but harder, giving you no way to catch your breath and respond his teasings.

“you were devouring my cock like a minute ago, sweetheart. what’s gotten to you?” you press your thighs together, jaw relaxing when you let yourself breathe from your nose once again, softening your press on his thighs. you get yourself together faster than you’d think, eyes opening wide to get a fully view of him and bobbing your head now being the one who’s in control. “f’ckinggg hellll” he groans as you grip his balls in your palm, when your other hand is stroking his length.

his grip on your scalp tightens, signaling he's close to his release. your tongue now swirling around his shaft as you take him fully in your mouth once again. his tip hitting the back of your throat as you pick up your pace. you let out a cry when his hand that’s holding your hair squeezes hard as he pushes himself into your mouth as deep as possible. you feel his cum going down your throat as you stay still and swallow it all, nose touching his base.

he finally releases his grip on your scalp when he’s done cumming. your head tilts forward and you inhale a deep breath, strands of hair clinging to the wet patches on your face. you’re quick to open your eyes and rise your body from the mattress, returning his hungry gaze with your lustful one.

leaning in, your palms press against the warmth of his bare chest, feeling his staples hotter than usual. as your lips meet his, there's a delicate fusion of desire. he’s soft with his movements despite the way how he was leaving you breathless just seconds ago. he draws his tongue into your mouth when you wrap your arms around his neck, gently gripping his hair. the kiss lingers, breaths mingling, until both of you reluctantly pull away, leaving each other breathless.

his azure irises meet yours once again, his forehead in now on yours. you softly smile, your hands caressing the back of his neck as you take his scent into your lungs, holding it inside for a while and not letting go. maybe you didn’t pick him the best valentines day present, nor gave him the dead body of endeavor; but you loved him dearly more than anything you could’ve ever imagined.

your voice is soft when it catches your own ears, with a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

“happy valentines day, touya.”

[bc-jpeg]

so uh- I didn't see if this theory already exists in the fandom, or no one really touched on it, but after a long time in both fandoms, one funny pattern is noticeable. I’m so obsessed with watchers lore so much, which is why I started to go beyond only one universe, and this gave the result. so the theory is that dreamxd is a watcher. after digging into the dsmp lore, I found several points that may indicate this. dxd’s nature may differ from the canonical nature of the watchers that we see in evo smp and in the life-seasons in martyn’s lore, but we also already have a watcher!grian, whose watcher's nature also differs in its own way from that very canon, he has his own lore, so this will also work here.

now this will be only my personal version of watcher!dxd lore, there may still be holes in it, but this is only as a possible base:

presumably dreamxd is an ex-manhunt!dream, who could not get out of the world and stuck in the spectator mode of the game, becoming a watcher. in the initial attempts to escape from such a fate and get out (I don't think dream would just accept such a fate), he was crippled either by other watchers or by himself, having lost his "eye". this explains the basic visual interpretation of the dxd, where the place where the eyes should have been is now a familiar cross pattern.

isolating himself from other watchers, dxd created a time loop from the existing world, from which he initially could not get out, closing access to the end dimension for players, preventing both the players themselves from escaping, and the possibility of capturing these players to other watchers for their own time loops. the world with the manhunt seed was restarted, defaulting almost everything to zero, which eventually became the dsmp server. all interactions between players and server events began to give dxd so much energy and power that eventually the essence of the watcher completely absorbed him, dxd himself began to provoke events, interact directly with players, and all for the sake of energy, emotions, deaths that made him only stronger. dsmp became an excellent loop-feeder for him only, in which he completely lost his original humanity, becoming a monster, creating only chaos.

one of the risky but effective dxd’s moves of was giving the revival book and the book of death to players inside the time loop, which in a peculiar way gave them access to part of dxd’s powers. he realized how unpredictable players can be in their decisions and actions, which gave a ton of events possibilities. he wouldn't have to provoke events himself, when players can do everything for him, giving the same amount of energy.

so in the final of the dsmp, after that nuclear explosion, dxd simply restarted the entire time loop, as it was shown. the players don't remember anything that happened, they don't remember each other, the whole world was defaulted to zero, where they started all over again.

it’s also interesting that the concepts of limbo and dreams/illusions exist both in the dsmp lore and in watchers lore in life-seasons. limbo is the space where players end up with the loss of all their canonical lives, and there is no return from there, only at the whim of mystical powers (dsmp — the revival book, as part of the dxd’s powers, life-seasons — the watchers, more specifically watcher!grian).

both concepts somehow intersect with each other:

> in the dsmp, they intersected in the c!george’s lore, he had partial access to limbo through his own dreams, where dxd himself was also often present. someone also had the opportunity to watch server events from limbo.

> in life-seasons, according to cc!martyn, limbo is the space where all players get to after the final death and are there between seasons in a state of sleep, in which they see their own smps/universes.

again, this is just a possible version of how exactly this theory/head-cannon can work, there are a lot of things that I could not explain yet, because there is too much information from different dsmp povs. some things I remember, some not at all, but I left a hint of their possible intersection visually in the diagram. the theory of the smps-multiverse is here simply by default, all the other main points are indicated in this diagram. all of this will be easily editable at any future time, my job is just to throw in the base for this theory :D

[bonafideyapper]

THE TRADER'S DAUGHTER - cooper "the ghoul" howard x female!oc (part 4)

*THIS IS A DIRECT CONTINUATION OF PART 3** (guess what? I LIED when I said it would be past/present/past/present, enjoy whatever this is.)

Warnings: language, badly written smut, mentions of body hair (has to be a normal occurence in fallout bc theres no razors out there????), dbf!cooper, P in V sex, unprotected sex, ghoul fucking, unprotected irradiated creampie, Rad Away as birth control, as always not proofread

a/n: Alright! I’m not fully happy with this, but I DID promise a part 4 tonight so here she is in all her glory. Still bad at writing smut, deal with it. (Even tho I’m bad at writing it this is basically just smut with like, small plot points strewn about.)

Word count: 2.1k

previous part - masterlist

Previously, on The Trader's Daughter...

“Ohh, ya want me to touch ya, huh?” Cooper spoke in a hushed tone so as to not alert to her father in the next room what was about to happen. “What happened to you’re too young for me?” He squeezed her thigh with a strong grip, a wide grin coming to his face as he coaxed her thighs open. 

“Coop, I-” Daisy breathlessly whispered, overwhelmed by the man and his voice and his hands. Lord have mercy, his hands, those hands that she had dreamed about touching her in ways that would make angels cry. The hands that had strangled a man to death for threatening her. 

“I want you to touch me.”

“Well now darlin’, I can touch you however you want me to. But this ain’t gonna be no casual fuck. If I touch you now, you’re a marked woman.” Cooper whispered against the shell of Daisy’s ear, his scarred hand scooting closer to where she craved him most. He could tell she was flustered, and he loved that even after years of being hardened by the wasteland, he still had that panty-dropping effect on members of the fairer sex. 

“You sure you want an old man like me to irradiate that pretty little body of yours, flower?” Cooper kept his voice low, fully aware of his friend snoring less than ten feet away. 

Daisy’s mouth was dry and she would kill for some water. Somehow she managed to whisper back, “I’ve been on the surface a long time too, Cooper. I can handle a little rad poisoning. Got a good supply of Rad Away stashed away.” 

Cooper ran his tongue over his cracked lips, intrigued by the spice coming from the sweet little lady falling apart and he hadn’t even started to touch her yet. “Yeah? Sounds like you’ve been waitin’ a while for a moment like this, sugar. Hell, if I’d’ve known you’d been waitin’ for me this long I would’ve made my way back to you sooner. Could’a gave you another pretty little gift.” His hand reached for her necklace, letting his large calloused digits linger around the little white pearl. He could feel the breath trapped in her chest and swore he could hear the thumping of her heart trapped behind her ribs.

A decade of yearning had led her here, and Daisy was latching on. “Can I um, can I tell you something, Coop?” She felt like a teenage girl again as she looked up at the ghoul inching closer and closer to her, until his knee was slotted between the two of hers. If her father were to walk out now, they could probably play off the position as platonic, as an old friend leaning closer to get a good look at someone they hadn’t seen in years. A wave of nerves rushed over her as she watched him nod, calming herself as she thought about how he was much less of an intimidating figure without that old cowboy hat perched on top of his head. 

“You’re like, the guy I modeled my dream man after-” Daisy froze when she heard a shift to her father’s snoring pattern, bringing her awareness back to her surroundings. Cooper swiftly grabbed her chin to force her attention on him. “Uh uh, attention back on me, sweetheart. It’s just us. Now, you were sayin’ about how I was your perfect man?” As he spoke, his hand crept closer to the belt still fastened around her waist, taking his time and being disrespectful in his slow movements to pop her pants open. With each point the woman listed about how he was the model, he dipped one more finger down the front of her pants. 

“W-Well yeah, you’ve always been a very honorable man. Always take care of the people close to you.” Daisy tried to keep the conversation as casual as she could but still put up no fight as his fingers dipped below her waistband. She cautiously scooted herself down in the chair to widen her legs for him, blushing when he clicked his teeth, “That’s a good girl. You gonna keep bein’ a good girl for me, flower? Keep tellin’ me ‘bout myself.” Cooper smirked at her, his fingers ghosting over the skin of her stomach.

Daisy swiped her tongue over her lips, desperate for some kind of moisture in her mouth. She’d gladly accept it if he spit in her mouth, and actually, she wanted it. She’d do anything for him, especially if it would keep his hand sinking further down. “I think that you’re a good protector, a great shot back in the day. I’d totally outshoot you now.” She had to throw in a little jab of attitude towards him, wanting to see where it’d get her. “Like the way you talk, always callin’ me some kind o’ pretty-” 

Cooper could’ve lost it right then and there when his fingers slipped through the soft curly bush coating her puffy lips, “Look at that, sweet girl, you’re soaked and I ain’t even really touched you yet.”  He bragged, letting his finger tap against her clit a few times to watch her twitch, “And princess, as much as I wanna hear that sweet voice of yours scream my name, gonna need you to be quiet for me. Think you can do that?” He whispered to her as he sunk two thick digits into her dripping hole, shoving the same fingers on his other hand into her mouth to silence her when her jaw went slack. “Bite down if you need to; I won’t mind.” 

Daisy was on cloud nine, needing to grip the table to hold herself together. She couldn’t tell if this was really happening, not until she felt his weathered fingers brushing against that little spot inside her, building up a tight knot that he was eager to coax from her. She wrapped her pretty little lips around his fingers and then Coop thought he was on cloud nine— he’d get those pretty little lips wrapped around something else soon enough, but right now he was committed to teasing her and making her cum with his fingers. Y’know, had to see if he still got it (he did, he was shocked to find that it took less than five minutes of manipulation for her to gush in his hand with a muffled moan as he clasped his hand over her mouth.) 

Daisy closed her thighs around his hands and tried to let her head tip back, half-lidded eyes staring up at his as he dug his fingers in her mouth and pulled her head up to look at him. She whimpered at the loss of his fingers and watched as he licked them clean, a bright red tinge on her cheeks. 

“Sweeter than any peach I’ve ever tasted, flower.” Cooper ran his finger over her lips gently, letting her taste herself on the digit. She damn near couldn’t see straight and here he was, still egging her on. “Now, princess, think you can stay quiet for me?” 

Any kind of strong-woman act that Daisy had created for herself in her lifetime had dissolved in an instant, turning to putty in his hands and feeling like she was a virgin all over again as she begged him to fuck her. “Please, Cooper, please- I’ll be quiet, I promise. Please, please-” She whispered, keeping her eyes locked on his to show she was being serious. “We can go downstairs, won’t have to worry about dad.” 

Cooper pushed himself back from her and stood up, holding his hand out for her to take. “Come on then, pretty girl.” Daisy was quick to stand on her shaky legs, not seeming to care about the wet spot that had formed between her legs. She grabbed onto his hand and essentially dragged him down the stairs, pretty eager for a grown woman. Hey, again, Cooper reawoken her teenage dream, Daisy is in no way to blame for her actions. Without having to think about his actions, Cooper easily tossed the girl around like a ragdoll. Their bodies combined in a mixture of clashing teeth and lips and limbs blindly grabbing for each other. Daisy slung an arm around his neck to pull his head closer to her, channeling a lifetime of desire behind her kiss. She’d never been kissed like this before, none of the boys she had messed around with during her girlhood had ever touched her the way Cooper had been 

She didn’t have to be told twice, Cooper had barely muttered a “get these off” while pulling at her pants and she had dropped them down around her ankles. She kicked them off and smiled wide when he put his hands on her again, this time to easily lift her up onto the countertop. Daisy locked her legs around his waist and whimpered softly when he broke away from her, already begging for him again, “Coop, please don’t stop yet-” “Aw, darlin’, I’m not stoppin’ shit.” Cooper cracked a sideways smirk, “Not gonna keep you beggin’, either, even though you sound sooo pretty.” he let her dig her hands between them, watching her eagerly take his belt off in the dark backroom of the storefront. He made short work of pushing his pants down, reaching down to grab her thighs and pull her closer to his front.

Daisy helped him out a little by scooting her hips forward, just barely hanging off the side of the counter. She couldn’t help but notice how large his hands were against the flesh of her plump thighs as he grabbed on her, wishing she could see more of him in the dark. She wondered how the years of radiation exposure had affected his dick, but didn’t have to spend long on that thought before he had lined himself up and thrust into her. “Oh fuck-” As soon as the words slipped out of her mouth in a moan, Cooper had that hand slapped over her mouth again.

“Nuh-uh, none of that now, flower. Gonna- fuck- gonna wake up your old man. Don’t want that now, do we?” Cooper whispered against the shell of her ear, barely able to hold himself together now that he was inside her and damn-near feral. He smirked as she nodded against him, her eyes still trained on his. “Good girl.” he whispered as he painstakingly pulled out of her to just the tip, only to slide right back in and bottom out with his hips flush against hers.

Daisy whimpered against his hand and reached up to hold it firmly against her mouth, not wanting to risk not being his good girl. (Also not wanting to risk her dad walking in, but to be honest, she wasn’t thinking much about him when Cooper was between her thighs.) She couldn’t think straight, her mind was completely occupied with himhimhimhimhim. Part of her still felt like this was a dream as she mumbled something against his hand, something along the lines of “don’t hold back.” She figured he could understand her because instead of that painfully slowwww process of teasing her, he started fucking her. And this wasn’t like any of the meaningless fucks she had before, this was with a grown man, a man who had been changed by the immense suffering he had been through before he fell into her life. He was fucking her like his life depended on it and she was drunk on every second. 

Cooper didn’t know how long he’d be able to last with her walls gripping him the way she was, with her pretty brown eyes locked on his the entire time. It was much more intimate than he had intended for this to go, he had wanted it to be a good fuck but not one that would leave her wanting more. He had things he needed to do once he left her in the morning, and he hoped that this would be enough to tide her over until he could come back to his Daisy. 

Unbeknownst to him, she’d be joining him in his next adventure, whether he wanted her to or not. 

“Fuck, darlin’, where do you wan’ me to fin’sh?” Cooper groaned out softly, digging his scarred fingers into the soft skin of her hips, hard enough to leave bruises to remember him by. His words had started to slur together more than usual with that accent of his. Daisy whimpered as she leaned up to press her lips to his, gripping onto the back of his head to keep him close to her, “Told you I got enough Rad Away to stock a Super Duper Mart, where d’ya think I wanted it?” She still had that snippy little attitude to her even after Coop did his best to fuck it out of her (although that hadn’t been the primary goal, it’ll continue to be his goal as long as he continues to fuck her.) 

His smirk lit up his face as he bottomed out in her one last time, his hips faltering a bit as he happily pumped her full of his unfruitful seed. He kept his eyes on her face as he watched her- what, third? orgasm take over her. He had lost count after he made her cum the first time with just his fingers. Gentle in his movements this time around, he pulled out of her slowly, taking a second to lean back and watch the cum leak from between her thighs. A satisfied smirk never leaving his face, “Where do you keep the Rad Away?”

gif credit @thesoldiersminute

divider credit @cafekitsune

taglist: @savanahc @one-of-thewalkingdead @silverose365 @neverendingdumptser @fallout-girl219 @imtherain @looneylooomis

(I'm trying to compile my taglist from both accounts, so I hope I didn't forget anyone!)

[loganjameshowlett]

SAME AS IT EVER WAS

02: FACTS DON'T DO WHAT I WANT THEM TO

pairing: peter parker/muntant!reader summary: you're getting good at pretending everything is normal. peter's getting less good at the very same. word count: 3.2k+

series masterlist | previous installment | next installment

When you woke up on Thursday, the bizarre scars were still uncomfortably present on your shoulder blades, and you kind of wished the SUV had finished the job. 

It was 3:07 PM when you rolled over– an action accompanied with a certain measure of full-body agony– and squinted blearily at your phone screen. 

“Shit,” you muttered, rubbing your eyes and checking the time again. You had missed both of your classes for the day, and had to be over to the bodega in just under two hours for a shift. It was unlike you to oversleep, or to ever miss a class, and you tamped down the anxiety already bubbling in your chest about falling behind or missing something crucial. It was also unlike you to get fully run over by an SUV and live to tell the tale, you supposed. And it made for a hell of a good reason to have missed class, anyway. 

Your body felt like it belonged tucked into a bed in the ICU unit over in Bellevue. When you finally dragged it out of bed and in front of the mirror to check, the line of unsightly, discolored tire track bruises had bloated to cover most of the skin from your ribs down to your hips. The same wave of questions from the night before welled up in your mind, and just as the night before, you pushed them all away just as fast. You had enough sense to know you weren’t going to come to any meaningful answers standing on your own in the middle of your bedroom, and you had to shower and get ready for work, anyhow. Another place where you were not likely to get answers, so best not to think about the questions. 

By the time you were done with a near-scalding shower, your body was actually feeling mostly okay and you were well on your way to convincing yourself that whatever happened last night was a fluke. A one time thing. Yes, it was completely bizarre and should have been impossible by all accounts, but those were things you didn’t have to concern yourself with if it never happened again. A few decades from now, you’d probably think it had all been a particularly vivid dream, the way most people who glimpse one unexplainable thing in their lives and then nothing ever again do, and that was alright by you.  

***

“You’ll never guess what happened to me last night,” Mickey says, grinning and coming around the counter as soon as you came through the door. 

You stole my line, you wanted to say, but you were making a valiant effort at not devoting large quantities of brainpower to thinking about last night, so you didn’t. Instead, you walked behind the counter and shed your jacket on the plastic chair in the tiny storage-closet-turned-office, tossing a look Mickey’s way to show her you were listening to her story. 

“Two minutes away from my dorm, I ran into fucking Klara,” she said, punctuating her sentence with a roll of her wide brown eyes. “She has somehow gotten more fuckin’ unbearable than ever.”

“In other news, the sky is blue,” you interjected, and Mickey waved a hand dismissively. 

“That is not the point of the story,” Mickey said. “She stopped me on the path with her bullshit smalltalk for about thirty seconds before dropping that fucking Spider-Man had just swung through campus five minutes earlier!” 

“He has been known to do that,” you nodded. “Couple weeks ago he webbed up some finance frat loser who was trying to start fist fights with everyone who walked past him.” 

“Yeah, I know he’s around sometimes, but I have never seen him! And there I was last night, missing him by a matter of mere minutes.” Mickey huffed, dropping her chin onto her hand. 

“Your time will come, Mick,” you assured her. “And then you can try to flirt your way into his spandex, or whatever.”

“I will succeed in flirting my way into his spandex, thank you very much,” she responded haughtily, and despite your mood and the soreness still ebbing its way through your body, you laughed. 

Gary hopped up onto the counter, wending his way through Mickey’s arms, and then crossing over to do the same to yours. Absently, you sunk your fingers into his soft orange fur, gently scratching his little head. 

“Hey, you kinda look like shit. Did something happen?” Mickey asked, startling you out of the blank-gazed factory reset your brain was trying to accomplish. When you looked up at her, her head was tilted to the side, eyes narrowed in scrutiny. 

“If staying up most of the night doing homework counts as something happening, then yeah,” you shrugged. “This is just what a me approaching midterms looks like.” 

“Yeah… I guess that’s true,” she drawled, but you could tell by her voice that she wasn’t totally convinced. Mickey was your best friend, and years of telling each other everything without a second thought had culminated in both of you being able to easily tell when the other was, on those rare occasions, hiding something. And usually, as soon as Mickey seemed even marginally onto you, you would spill everything to her. But this time, you couldn’t say a thing. What even would you say? Nothing good could come out of telling her that you’d been run over by a car and then just… walked home. 

“Can we finally talk about how Josh McClellan is clearly coming in here several times a week just to see you?” you asked, trying to change the subject as smoothly as you were capable of. 

“Okay, so it’s not only me who was thinkin’ that?” Mickey launched into a play-by-play dissection of her interactions with the guy immediately, and you sank onto the stool behind the counter in relief of the attention no longer being on you. 

The rest of your shift passed mostly without incident. Mickey followed Gary around the bodega, harassing him with pets and occasionally fixing up or restocking a shelf or two. The after-work crowd even seemed a little less disgruntled than usual, which your hourly deteriorating people skills appreciated greatly. 

“Think we can bump off early?” Mickey asked, as the clock reached eleven. “It’s only an hour.”

“I wouldn’t do Mr. Browne like that, and neither should you,” you said, aiming  a scolding look at her over the shelves as you idly pushed a broom back and forth in front of the coolers. “And, ‘sides, this is the easiest hour of the shift. Basically nobody comes in between now and closing.”

As soon as the words left your mouth, the bell above the door chimed. Mickey shot a told ya so look at you, before turning around to see who came in. 

“Oh– hey, Peter,” you greeted, eyes widening slightly as you realized it wasn’t just some random schmuck looking for mixers for their pregame. You knew this schmuck. Kind of. 

For his part, Peter froze in the door, looking a little too much like a prey animal for someone simply being recognized when they didn’t expect it. His eyes met yours, and he forced an awkward smile onto his face. 

“Hey,” he said your name, accompanied by a small wave. “I didn’t know you worked here.” 

“Didn’t come up while we were discussing your essay?” you asked, and Peter’s smile grew into something a little more embarrassed, cheeks pinking slightly as he ducked his head. 

“Sorry, that was stupid,” he said, wending his way through the aisles and clearly searching for something specific. You brought the broom back into the office and situated yourself behind the register for when Peter was ready to check out. Mickey met your eye from across the room as she hoisted Gary into her arms, giving you a look that was clearly asking what the fuck? You shrugged almost imperceptibly and looked away, but you could still feel her eyes on you. 

A few minutes later, Peter ambled up to the counter and set three different flavors of Celsius and a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos down in front of you. Fascinating snack for this time of night. 

“Still on for tomorrow afternoon?” he asked as you began scanning his items. 

“Yeah, ‘course,” you said, looking up to offer him a small smile. Up close, the bags under his eyes were so pronounced they looked like true bruises, and there was a pretty fresh cut almost completely hidden in his hairline. 

“You okay?”

The words came out of both of your mouths at the same time, followed by twin looks of confusion. 

“Me?” you asked, brow furrowing as you finished ringing him up. “Total’s $13.50, by the way.” 

“Yeah– uh, sorry–” Peter said, fishing a couple of bills out of his jacket pocket. “You just… it seemed like something might be wrong.” 

You blinked at him for a few seconds, frankly dumbfounded that he– a virtual stranger– was able to pick up on the general wrongness of the current state of your existence. Realizing you’d been quiet for a weird amount of time, you sucked in a breath and responded, “Oh, yeah, no, I’m good. Just exhausted, s’all– you know, finals coming up and everything.”

“Oh, sure,” he nodded, like it made complete sense. “Right there with you.”

“And, uh, what happened up–?” you asked, gesturing toward the cut along his hairline. You noticed then that the skin around it was starting to bruise. 

“Oh, that,” Peter said, bringing a hand up to ghost along the offending injury. “I was in the lab earlier for my, uh, my internship and there was a little accident. You know how labs are.”

“I really do not know how labs are,” you said, and the same embarrassed smile from earlier grew on his face. 

“Right. Yeah. Accidents are par for the course.”

“Well, make sure you dress that properly when you get home,” you said, fighting the urge to fuss over the wound. 

“First thing when I walk through the door,” he promised, and you nodded, satisfied, as you handed over his purchases. 

“See you tomorrow, then.”

“Yeah, ‘night,” Peter said, waving as he took a few backward steps from the counter, before disappearing through the door. 

As soon as he was out on the sidewalk, Mickey materialized on the other side of the counter, red curls and freckled expression of shocked interest taking up your entire field of vision. “What the fuck was that?” 

***

You spent Friday morning valiantly trying to finish your biology work so that you actually had something for Peter to look over that afternoon. You figured that, honestly, bringing a blank lab worksheet to him would be just as useful as bringing one you filled in by yourself; it was like the synapses stopped firing in your brain when you opened up this stupid lab’s Canvas page. 

And anyway, your lack of ability to concentrate on anything that looked even remotely like STEM homework had become a hundred times worse since the Incident (you had taken to thinking of it as this: capitalized so as to be given proper weight, and named so that you never had to dwell on any of the details). Suddenly learning about plant tissue culture seemed entirely meaningless in the greater context of your increasingly bizarre life. 

Meaningless or not, you still had to pass the class. The universe worked in mysterious ways, and as you skimmed the same textbook page for the ninth time, absorbing not a single word, you thanked it for sending Peter Parker your way. 

When you reached the second floor of the library at five minutes to two, Peter was already sitting at the table the two of you had occupied the other day, general backpack detritus spread haphazardly across half the surface. He had a fresh printed copy of his edited essay in front of him, partially obscured by his arm resting on top of it, which was, in turn, supporting his head while he napped. 

You approached the table, dumping your bag in one of the empty chairs as gently as you could. Peter’s hair stuck up in all directions, and you noticed that the bruise blooming out from the cut along his hairline had matured into something nastier looking since the last time you saw him. 

For a moment, you stood awkwardly at the side of the table, waiting to see if he would wake up. You felt bad about the prospect of waking him– he clearly needed the sleep badly– and you briefly thought about just leaving and emailing him to set up a different time, but you knew he’d feel bad about it and selfishly, you needed to submit your lab by midnight. 

“Peter?” you asked, voice pitched low for the library. Hesitantly, you reached a hand toward his shoulder, unsure still of what you would do with it once it reached its destination, but just before your fingers brushed his sweatshirt, Peter’s head bolted up as if electrocuted. 

He took a few seconds to gaze, confused, about the room, before his eyes landed on you and a blush that was quickly becoming familiar pinked his cheeks. 

He said your name, half confused question and half surprised exclamation, and blinked up at you a few times as if trying to orient himself. 

“You alright?” you asked, moving to sit in the seat catty-cornered to his own. 

“Yeah, I’m all good, I– honestly, I can’t believe I  fell asleep here,” Peter answered, reassuring smile an afterthought. You watched how the smile dropped quickly and his brow furrowed, skin creasing above the bridge of his nose; he seemed far too concerned about accidentally falling asleep in the library. 

“I can’t tell you how many naps I’ve taken at this exact table, let alone the rest of the building,” you told him, tone light. You weren’t quite sure what about the situation had him so worried, but you hoped you could reassure him a bit anyway. “You wanna start with your essay, or my lab?” 

“Your lab deserves to go first,” Peter decided quickly. “What’s this one on?”

You attempted to explain the lab to the best of your ability, eventually giving up and handing over your entire biology folder so Peter could read it himself. For the next two hours, he talked you through each aspect of the lab– it felt like finding God, finally being able to understand something for this fucking class. 

Peter perked up with every question you asked him, as though getting the opportunity to explain biological concepts was literally reinvigorating him. His eyes brightened, his posture straightened– he was more confident than you’d ever seen him now that he was given the space to ramble about something he knew well. You were embarrassed to have to forcibly stop yourself from openly staring at him about half a dozen times. 

“Sorry, we got way off track at the end, there,” Peter said, suddenly cutting off a tangent about some research on chloroplasts that one of his internship colleagues was conducting. 

You waved him off, a genuine smile on your face. “Don’t be, I like listening to you. ‘Sides, I learned more from you this afternoon than I have from Dr. Katz the entire semester,” you said earnestly. 

Peter grinned, ducking his head a bit. “Well, I aim to educate and entertain, so I'm glad I hit on both of those today.”

“I really think you could have a future as Bill Nye’s successor with these skills, Parker,” you said solemnly, and Peter laughed. 

“With this kind of unwavering support, maybe I will be conducting science experiments on direct-to-videos being played in seventh grade biology classrooms all over the country very soon.”

“Maybe,” you nodded. “If you’re lucky.”

***

Three years into college, and Peter still hadn’t quite mastered balancing the student and hero halves of his life. 

Submitting work late and having no consistent social life were just, he guessed, par for the course. His entire life seemed to be made up of excuses, and he was helpless to change it. Mostly, it didn’t bother him. Being Spider-Man was just who he was; he wouldn’t give up any part of that for “the traditional college experience” or “having friends”. He shuffled his half-dead body between chem lectures and getting 18-wheelers thrown at him by the Rhino, and in the exceedingly rare moments of quiet between the two, he kept his head down. And that was that. He was good with that. 

And then he met you. 

He’d never needed a tutor before Professor Liu, and when he finally bit the bullet and asked her for help, he expected to be paired with some pretentious, Moby Dick reading, flowy blouse wearing poet who would eloquently tell him exactly how much of a dunce he was when it came to literary analysis. This probably wasn’t a fair assessment, but he didn’t know many English majors, and anyway, anyone who was held in such high esteem by Professor Liu was somebody whom, he assumed, he would never get along with in a million years. 

And then he’d shown up to tutoring, and there you were at the table in a giant sweatshirt, dog-eared book held open by one errant finger as you tapped at your keyboard, and you’d remembered his name right off the bat and smiled at him– one of those patient, encouraging smiles that could make anyone open up about anything– and somewhere between breaths the tutoring session had become the highlight of his week. 

He’d left with the guarantee of seeing you again in a few days, and then it was like his brain got the flu because all he could think about, any time he idled, was you, and how you laughed at all his stupid jokes and were so casually witty and– honestly, the torrent was never ending (not that he was trying to end it very hard) and maybe worryingly distracting (he’d only missed the broad side of a building with his webs once, and he rebounded before he became a stain on the pavement, so really, no harm no foul). 

He thought he was hallucinating when he walked into a bodega at random after a surprisingly nasty spat with a would-be car thief, spandex still on under his jacket and a pair of sweatpants, and there you were, too, name tag pinned to your sweater and broom in your hand, existing in your own right away from the library, which was, for some reason, a shock to him. He said something stupid (a curse he was sure he would never get rid of) and had to fumble his way through normalcy even when you, through what you claimed to be exhaustion but was pinging his spidey senses as something much more, noticed his little bump on the head and asked if he was okay. His heart had done a painful, spasmodic little dance at the thought that you cared enough to ask, and he didn’t really know what to do with that. 

Sitting on this rooftop was becoming frigid, and all he could think about was your hand touching his when you handed him back his change, and your voice so earnestly saying I like listening to you. 

God, but he was fucked.

[dsudis]

Adaptive Tea Making

For @domaystic Day 5: Learning Something New.

Dream is human now, and determined to learn how to make his beloved a cup of tea. He just has a small difficulty with time to get over.

___

Hob looked over at Dream, who was perched on a stool at the kitchen bench with his ever-present notebook open to a fresh page, his phone unlocked beside it, and an actual stopwatch beside that. He had a pencil in his hand, freshly sharpened, and a second pencil also perfectly sharpened set beside the notebook.

Hob had secondhand text anxiety just looking at those pencils. 

"Ready?" Hob asked, though surely it was not possible to be more ready than Dream currently was. 

Dream didn't even meet his gaze, his eyes fixed firmly on Hob's hands. "Ready. Please show me, one more time, how to make a cup of tea the way you like it." 

As Dream spoke he wrote on the pristine notebook page: Hob's tea instructions. His handwriting was crooked and crabbed but legible. 

"So--there's water in the kettle already," Hob said, feeling like possibly he was the one being tested. However he made this cup of tea, Dream would continue making this exact cup of tea for him forever. 

Hob was fine with that. Hob would frankly have been fine with continuing to get wildly undrinkable cups of tea from Dream forever, but Dream was determined to learn this particular human skill correctly, and seemed somehow convinced that this time he was going to crack it. 

Hob flipped the switch. Dream turned on a timer on his phone and then wrote down the first two steps: water in kettle and turn on kettle. He also wrote to one side, Phone timer: total length of process and drew a little line beside it to be filled in with a number later. 

They had learned, after Dream had committed a series of frankly baffling tea mishaps including "hot water with no detectable trace of tea" and "oversteeped to the point of activating an immortal's gag reflex through sheer bitterness" and "boiled the kettle dry" that Dream had no real sense of how time passed. It passed how he wished it to pass, in the Dreaming, and even in the Waking he had always been able to nudge reality a bit to make the flow of time conform to his narrative sense or personal convenience.  

Now that he was divested of those powers and operating a human body, the linear flow of time had so far made absolutely no impression on Dream. Hob had had to point out to him things like "if you wake up and it is still dark, it is still night, and you will probably want to go back to sleep until it's light out" and how often meals should happen.  

It was the tea that had made it clear that even telling Dream times when things should happen was not very helpful to him. He couldn't seem to hold the numbers in his head or make sense of them when he consulted a clock. Hob had simply started giving him other ways of gauging the passage of time, teaching him about the sun's position in the sky at mealtimes and when Hob returned from work, and about the activity of people visible from the windows, and which programs on the telly corresponded reliably to morning, afternoon, and evening. 

Hob had spent long stretches of time--most of his life, really--without access to clocks. People nowadays were obsessed with them, and with precise timing for everything, but Dream wouldn't need to worry about being punctual to a work shift or keeping all sorts of appointments. Hob could help him with where precision was needed, and could teach him to get along where it wasn't. 

Tea, unfortunately, was a matter of some precision. When the kettle let out the first gurgles, Hob grabbed the tea canister. "Plenty of times I just use bag tea, but my insufferably posh lover seems set on spoiling me, so," Hob scooped tea into the strawberry-shaped infuser. "This is what we've got in place of a tea bag. Time-wise, either should work the same." 

Dream faithfully wrote down prepare infuser (or tea bag).

"The timing for the kettle will change a bit. A smaller amount of water boils faster. There's a bit over two cups in right now," Hob pointed to the line on the side, "so it takes a little over two minutes." 

Dream wrote down kettle boils and then waited watchfully until the kettle hit its automatic shutoff and consulted the time. Kettle shuts off, he wrote down, and then 2:38 with a tidy little asterisk beside it.

"Infuser goes in mug," Hob narrated. "Pour the water over it, leave about an inch at the top for milk. And start your stopwatch, because this is the bit I couldn't tell you, because I do it by feel." 

Dream started the stopwatch and scribbled down more notes, drawing a little box for the all-important steeping time to be entered. Hob watched the mug, wondering once again how he did know when it was done steeping. He'd tried more than once to describe it to Dream, but none of his descriptions had been at all helpful--as proven by the various disastrous cups of tea--and had only frustrated both of them. 

He wanted to fill the silence, but Hob didn't dare mess this up for Dream, when he was so determined to get this right. Most of human life had come easily enough to him, once he set himself to adapt to it, but tea had thwarted him. Hob was a little worried that Dream was building this up into some kind of epic battle of wills he had to win to Succeed At Being Human. 

Dream looked up at him expectantly and Hob looked back down at his mug, a little worried that he'd gotten distracted--he'd certainly oversteeped his tea enough times for one reason or another--but no, a sniff and a glance told him it wasn't quite there yet. "Almost," Hob said. "Not really a bad cup of tea if you stop now, but not quite." He drummed his fingers, waiting for-- 

"Ah," Hob said, "Now." He reached for the infuser and lifted it out, and the stopwatch clicked at the exact instant it cleared the top of the mug. Hob set the infuser in the sink and then swirled the cup of tea, giving it another sniff to be sure, but yes, that was a just-right cup of tea. He grabbed the jug of milk and looked to see that Dream was intently watching before he poured in a dollop. 

Dream's eyes narrowed slightly and then he nodded and wrote down a specific liquid volume that Hob was sure was in fact precisely correct--Dream's spatial skills were laser-accurate and slightly unnerving.  

"And a spoonful of sugar, because I'm feeling like it today," Hob said. "I do honey sometimes. Sometimes two spoonfuls of sugar." He stirred in the sugar and sipped. "And that's--" 

Dream clicked the timer on his phone and recorded the time, then picked up the phone and tapped rapidly at it. "Tell me that the water should boil about now," Dream said, and held out the phone like a reporter's microphone. 

"Water should be boiling about now," Hob parroted obediently.  

Dream nodded, tapped at the phone again, and said, "Now tell me the tea is ready."  

When Dream held out the phone, Hob said, "Tea's ready, love." 

Dream was startled into a smile at that addition, and asked, "How is it?" 

"Just right," Hob said. "But if you--" 

Dream shook his head, still smiling, and went back to tapping at things on his phone. "These things are amazing, you know?" Dream said. "I thought I would have to learn magic, but these are like little prosthetic memories. If you work out all the steps, you can make it do all these things for you. Well, not for you, you don't need it. For me." 

"I mean, I'd be lost without my calendar and things," Hob said. He'd never thought of technology to solve Dream's difficulty with time. He'd thought it was just more clocks all the way down, there. 

"Watch," Dream said, and then, to his phone, "Computer, making a cup of tea." 

"Acknowledged," his phone replied, because Dream had watched possibly too many sci-fi movies with Hob at what had turned out to be a formative time in his life. "When there is water in the kettle, turn the kettle on." 

Dream mimed flipping the switch on the kettle. 

Nothing happened, since Dream was still a good yard away from the kettle. Reminded, Hob ran some more water into it and put it back. He was sipping his tea again and nearly choked on it when his own voice came from Dream's phone. "Water should be boiling about now." 

"Computer, wait," Dream said, and the phone was back to its Computer voice when it said, "Acknowledged." 

"In case there is more water in the kettle," Dream said. "If there is less, I will be able to tell it to skip ahead when the water boils." 

"Computer, resume," Dream added to the phone. 

"Prepare the infuser, then pour boiling water over it." 

Dream mimed dropping the infuser into the mug, then pouring the water. "Computer, steeping." 

"Steeping," the computer said, sounding slightly stilted like it had had to assemble that word from individual sounds instead of having it pre-recorded.  

"I'll be able to use this for anything to do with timing," Dream said, scratching down more notes in his notebook. "I just have to set the intervals and key phrases, and optionally recordings for specific announcements, and then I will be able to do things that need timing. As long as I have my phone. Possibly I should get one of those watches." 

"That's no trouble, then," Hob said, pulling out his own phone to order a watch to sync with Dream's phone. "And you know I'm always happy to be your speaking clock, love."  

Dream came around the bench and kissed him, curling a hand around Hob's on his mug. "I shall feed you your lines when I need them," Dream said, and somehow it was desperately romantic and made Hob so proud he could cry, knowing Dream knew that Hob would always be glad to help him do things in his own way. 

He opened his mouth to try to say it, his heart almost too full for words, and was cut off by his own voice from Dream's phone. "Tea's ready, love." 

[Now on Ao3!]

[demensrage]

Immortal whispers ⚊ chapter one

── summary: When the god Morax sees a mortal that capture his interest, he comes to realize that there is still so much of human nature that he has no experience of. For his lust for life through her he starts doubting himself and everything that makes an entity eternal. This is the story about a man, who finds out, what the essence of life is, as he will learn that love and death are two greatest gifts of life.

warning: Zhongli!morax x reader, angust, fluff, eventual smut but nothing explicit?

wordcount: 2.5k

go back

chapter two

note: english is not my firts lenguage so please forgive me for the grammatical errors I may commit.

The life of a god can be more or less pleasant; it all depends on the times. But it is true that immortality becomes boring at some point. It's all jokes and laughter, moments of seriousness in which wise decisions must be made. However, when the same situation presents itself over and over, with years of distance and different people, you already know how to act. You don’t have to think. The story has repeated itself so many times that, by inertia, you know the answer.

Thus lived Morax, the great god of contracts, immersed in an endless routine. On the cold nights of Liyue, where the stars twinkled like small beacons of hope, he watched from a distance, his immense and powerful figure camouflaged among the shadows of the mountains. His gaze, always attentive, focused on the lives unfolding before him—ephemeral beings filled with dreams and ambitions, and yet so vulnerable. It was easy to get lost in the flow of time, in the repetition of stories he knew by heart.

But tonight, something was different. The great rite of the Archon's Descent was to take place today, an event that drew thousands of mortals to the squares of Liyue, where devotion mingled with longing. The floating lanterns, made of delicate paper and soft light, ascended to the sky, illuminating the darkness with their warm glow. Each balloon carried a wish, a prayer, rising to the gods like small stars born from human hands.

Morax watched from a distance, feeling the palpable energy in the air. The rituals were meant to honor the gods, to remind mortals that their existence was not in vain. The voices of the believers resonated in hymns, and the offerings were presented with fervor, each gesture imbued with reverence. However, in his chest, a void grew, a reminder that, although surrounded by devotion, he felt increasingly distant.

As the ceremony progressed, the wind brought with it laughter and whispers, blending with the echo of the chants.

"Just like every year, but somehow, their energetic devotions continue to stir my soul," Morax murmured to himself as he walked among them, observing with the same monotony that had invaded him since times he could no longer remember. Although the festivities repeated with the same devotion as always, something in the fervor of the mortals still moved him deep within, as if there remained a spark of hidden emotion behind his serene and distant appearance.

The humans cheered, laughed, and embraced each other, wishing prosperity in their businesses and future contracts. Some drank, others conversed, exchanging stories of success and dreams yet to be fulfilled. It was such a familiar scene, a living painting of the eternal essence of Liyue, where tradition and the human spirit intertwined in perfect harmony.

And then, amid the bustle and music, Morax saw her. She danced with a natural grace, moving through the tumult of singers who raised their voices to exalt the god who dwelled in their hearts. With her skirts gathered in her fists, she twirled and glided around the circle with a unique fluidity. Her feet followed the vibrant rhythm of the music, while her lips never stopped smiling, reflecting a pure and contagious joy.

There was something magnetic about the way she moved; an energy that emanated not just from her body but also from her spirit. She laughed, completely immersed in the moment, and with every step, she conveyed a sense of freedom that the god had almost forgotten existed. She was not just dancing; she was alive, completely alive, and that vitality made everything around her pale in comparison.

Morax, who had witnessed countless rituals and festivities, found himself mesmerized by the simplicity of her happiness. She did not dance to worship a god, nor to be seen by others; she did it for herself, because in that moment, amid all the commotion and the lights of the floating lanterns, she felt whole. That sparkle in her eyes, that laughter rising above the music, was a reminder of what it truly meant to live.

A pang of nostalgia coursed through Morax's heart. Watching her, he felt that unknown impulse awaken within him once more. He wondered what it would feel like to be part of that ephemeral and fleeting world, where moments like this were the true eternity for mortals. And it was in that precise instant, as she laughed and twirled among the lights and the songs, that Morax understood his desire to know her was not mere curiosity. It was the yearning of a god weary of his immortality, seeking in the spark of a mortal the promise of something he had forgotten: the joy of living.

The beauty of that ephemeral being lay in what emanated from her soul. That was what he wished to believe, that was all he wanted to think about, but he would be lying if he said it wasn’t so. She was a woman as beautiful as her soul; the way her smile contrasted with her lovely face, how her skin seemed to be kissed by the sun itself, and her hair, though dark as night, cascaded from the heavens over her shoulders.

To him, humans were not perfect, they never would be, because they were human, and their very nature led them to make mistakes. Morax knew this well; he had seen them fall, rise, and make the same mistake throughout the centuries. It was always repetitive cycles, time and again, with different faces and names, but the same underlying story.

In that instant, when his body moved towards the circle on impulse, and that dancing soul, for a moment as brief as a blink, immersed her body alongside his, he thought the exact opposite. At first glance, even seeing the fire of her soul shine so vibrantly, he found no flaw in her. It was not just her dance that enchanted him; it was the purity of every movement, the honesty of every laugh that escaped her lips.

Morax, invisible and unnoticed, allowed himself to be enveloped by the music and the songs, his energies brushing against the presence of that woman who radiated life in every turn. She danced without worrying about perfection, without seeking the approval of others, and that was what made her different. She moved because she felt it, because each step was an expression of her own essence, something so genuine and simple that Morax, the great god of contracts, found himself completely fascinated.

For the first time, he felt that a mortal could be more than just a fleeting being, and in that brief connection, Morax understood that perhaps mortality held a beauty that even millennia of divine wisdom could not reach.

The music reached its climax, and with it, the beautiful dance he was witnessing. The drums resonated powerfully, lifting the spirits of the crowd as the chants of the devoted filled the night air. The woman spun one last time, her skirts swirling around her like a flash of light in the gloom. Each step seemed synchronized with the very heartbeat of the earth, and her laughter intertwined with the choruses, creating a unique melody that captured the spirit of Liyue.

Morax watched her, his golden eyes fixed on every movement, every gesture, as if he were trying to decipher the enigma she represented. Now, with a curiosity burning in him like never before, he longed to know what offerings she had left him. Would they be as genuine as her smiles? As bright as the being emanating from her own essence? He wanted to know, he needed to know. But beyond simple curiosity, he felt an urgency to understand why his thoughts had strayed toward this particular mortal.

It was not natural for him to feel such curiosity about humanity; he had stopped feeling it years ago when his purpose as a protector and guide began to fade into the monotony of the centuries. He knew them all, had guided them through their worst moments, had fought for them and watched them thrive under his tutelage. Humans were predictable, their lives fleeting, and their actions so repetitive that Morax had ceased to be surprised by their gestures, their rites, their prayers.

“It's just a momentary attachment,” he told himself, trying to rationalize the fascination that overwhelmed him. “And like everything in this life, that feeling will fade away.”

However, as she stepped away from the circle of dancers, still smiling and with flushed cheeks from the effort, Morax could not take his eyes off her. There was something in her laughter, in her freedom, that challenged him to keep watching.

The god of contracts, who had always known every answer before it was even formulated, found himself for the first time without a clear explanation. And as the figure of the woman faded into the crowd, he realized that this time, his curiosity would not be so easily satisfied.

Longing to know more about her, he followed. His steps, though meticulous and silent, could not conceal his divine presence. She could feel it; that imposing and demanding energy sent shivers down her spine, but instead of feeling unsettled, she reveled in it. It was the same sensation that had engulfed her when the chant was coming to an end, that deep vibration in her soul connecting her to something beyond the earthly.

She approached a group of children who, with laughter full of joy, flew silk kites under the soft light of the Chinese lanterns. Their giggles mingled with the wind, and upon seeing her approach, the little ones quickly called out to her.

“Leilani, come! Join us!” they exclaimed, their voices brimming with enthusiasm.

“Leilani…” the god pronounced, savoring her name on his lips like a divine delicacy. The warmth of the sound, the sweetness and the meaning behind her name blossomed in his mind. “Leilani, celestial flower,” he repeated, this time more firmly, enjoying the sensation of knowing something so intimate and delicate about her.

But something unexpected happened. She stopped dead in her tracks. She hadn’t just heard her name once but twice, spoken with a voice that did not belong to any of those present. Leilani looked around, searching for the source of those words. Yet, she found no one. The children continued to play, the wind gently stirred the kites, but that voice, deep and laden with meaning, had no visible owner.

Confusion crossed her face for a moment, and in the depths of her mind, the same sensation of that powerful energy resurfaced. Her heart raced, and though she tried to dismiss the experience as a mere illusion, something inside her told her there was more behind those words. That there was something—or someone—watching her from a place she could not comprehend.

Morax, satisfied yet intrigued, watched calmly from his ethereal form. He savored the confusion in her eyes, but also the spark of curiosity now igniting within her. The connection between them had begun to weave itself, invisible and powerful, like the threads of a spider's web waiting for the moment to envelop them completely.

Ready to return to his divine realm, he decided on a hasty course of action, to walk alongside that young woman, brushing his skin against hers. “Warm, just as I thought,” he said to himself, noticing how she stopped short again when she felt his touch.

She shivered at the electric charge coursing through her body once more. It was gentle, as soft as a warm breeze in spring.

Ready to return to his divine kingdom, Morax chose to make an unexpected, almost impulsive decision, which was strange for someone of his nature. Driven by the curiosity that the young woman had awakened in his immortal soul, he walked beside her, so close that their energies intertwined, brushing her skin with his, like an intangible whisper that shouldn’t be felt but somehow was.

“Warm... just as I thought,” he murmured to himself, pleased to confirm the perception he had held since the very first moment. Not only did her soul shine with intensity, but even her physical presence, though limited by mortal nature, radiated that warmth he longed to touch.

Leilani, unaware of the nature of the being walking beside her, stopped again. This time, it wasn't her name that had paralyzed her, but the palpable sensation of something—or someone—that had brushed against her skin. Her body involuntarily shuddered, a small tremor coursing down her spine and traveling to the tips of her fingers, leaving an electric trace in its wake. It was gentle, as delicate as a warm breeze in the midst of spring, barely perceptible but powerful enough for her heart to beat faster.

Not fully understanding what was happening, Leilani brought a hand to her arm, where she had felt that touch, as if she wanted to make sure it hadn’t been a figment of her imagination. But had it? She stood still for a moment, looking around, hoping to find a logical explanation, some indication of what had transpired. However, the night continued, the lanterns illuminated the sky, and the laughter of the children echoed around her, as if the world had not changed at all.

But for her, something had changed. That sensation, that energy, lingered in the air, wrapping around her almost imperceptibly. It was neither painful nor bothersome, but it was disconcerting, as if a part of her was being watched, or worse yet, touched by something she could not see.

Morax, for his part, watched her reaction with interest. He had anticipated that shiver, that spark of surprise in her eyes. It was the natural result of such intimate and ethereal contact, something no mortal could fully comprehend. Yet, far from satiating his curiosity, that brief brush had awakened in him a deeper desire to know her. This was only the beginning.

“We shall meet again, sweet soul,” Morax whispered, letting his voice fade away like an echo in the night wind before ascending to the place to which he belonged, enveloped in the divine energy that characterized him.

Leilani held her breath. Something in that whisper had touched the depths of her being, but before she could process what had happened or even ask for an explanation, she felt the small, cheerful arms of the children wrap around her. Their laughter pulled her back to the reality of the present, momentarily dispelling the confusion she felt.

“What are you waiting for? Come on, we’ll let you use our kites!” they exclaimed with the same joy she had shared moments before during the dance.

Smiling, though with a slight confusion still lingering in her gaze, Leilani let the children's laughter guide her back to the festive surroundings. The sensation on her skin, the voice that had resonated in her mind—all seemed to fade away, but a part of her knew that something had changed. Unbeknownst to her, she had caught the attention of an immortal being.

© 2024 demensrage. do not plagiarize, copy, repost, feed to ai, or translate my works to any other platforms.

[mehiwilldoitlater]

first part

Two years.

The last time you saw his smugface was two years ago. Now you were there, dragged before him by some clowns, under the gaze of some of his colleagues. They wondered why one of the neo-formed Cross Guild leaders wanted you there; you weren't angry or anything at all.

Two years ago, your life was simple on that small island, in the garden that reminded you of Eden in your old books. Nothing mattered; your life was easy. He came from time to time and was always busy with his work. The hero of Alabasta is your lover.

Lies, all lies.

You never knew anything; he kept you from knowing everything about that.

Two years ago, the newspaper came, and then you knew. The lies that he told you are his true colors.

Baroque works, the dancing powder, the lives that he had taken...

The horror that engulfed you sickened you to the point that even his face on the newspaper was enough to send a chill down your back.

Then hell came.

You were a civilian, and you tried to explain that to the Marine that had taken you away for a few questions. They said that it was something like a few days, nothing more. You stayed in that somehow prison, near the Marine base, for almost a month, with the same questions and the same dirty looks every day. You were a criminal for them, just like him.

"How long have you known Crocodile?"

"Not so long..."

"How much did you know about his connections with that organization?"

"Nothing, I don't know..."

"Did he ever mention you about his plans?"

"I don't know..."

"Did you know about his activities?"

"I don't know..."

Every day, the same questions were asked, and you were forced to remember the few moments of happiness that you had with that man. 

Until that woman came. A captain that was present on the day of the crocodile arrest decided to finally take over your case.

"She's a civilian; the only connection with that criminal was a romantic one. Hina's surprised that you all didn't get it before. Let her go."

When you left that damn place, you had nothing but the few things that you had the day you came. You had nothing—nothing but the grief of his betrayal.

Then something changed. Your grief set aflame, a new one—hate.

You hated him; you hated everything about him—the memories, the moments of kindness, the lies. EVERYTHING.

You sell everything that you have—every detail that could lead you to him. The ring, the earring, the clothes—all of it. You didn't need them; those staff were nothing to you!

With the money that you gained, you were able to start anew, far away from everything.

On an island, away from the memories and your past, you found work in a small flower shop, a small apartment, a small world, and a new future.

Everything there was simple; no one knew you, and no one needed to know. You were a mistery for everyone there, but no one bothered to ask or to pry on. Even the old owner of the shop was content enough to just have you around.

"Ummm...today someone will come to court you again. my dear Y/n..." He said this while rocking in his chair. You almost dropped the watering can for the surprise.

"W-what?! No, no, what are you saying? Hehe, don't mock me!"

"Hehe, are you sure?" He was eyeing the young man who was reaching the shop.

Well, that was true... 

In a few weeks, you became one of the most courted girls in the village. Even after your continuous refusals, the confessions made you feel giddy. Despite it all, maybe you wanted that kind of new start.

There was a boy, a little older than you, who never gave up on you. He kept visiting you, asking about yourself, your dreams, your hopes...

A part of you wanted to open up to him. Maybe tell him about everything... Maybe you deserve to love again.

Then they came.

Two strange men looked like some kind of clown. No one knew who they were or where they came from, but they knew you. They take you away, forcing you to follow them on a ship, away from your new life and from your future.

They brought you back to the crocodile.

And now you were there, back to him, in that place full of criminals. The same ones that he hides so well from your mind, not letting you know. All the eyes were on you, but you felt only his eyes. You were too scared to look at him.

"Welcome back, Y/N..."

You said nothing; you stayed there, holding your hand, avoiding his gaze or responding to him.

"You seem well; I'm happy."

"..."

"Those boozes treat you? I hope they didn't manhandle you too much."

"..."

"I tried to find you, but you were gone. Avoid the Marine has been a-"

"I want to go home."

A new silence fell there. Your voice trembled a little, but you held on with enough strength to not fall down on your knees. The ex-warlord looked at you, waiting for something else for you. You said nothing; you didn't need to say anything else.

"This is your home."

"No, I have a work and a new home. I don't need you... It's over."

He inhaled deeply, and his teeth bit the cigar in his mouth to the point of cutting it in half. In a few seconds, his hand was attached to your wrist, dragging you away from the tent and the other members of the guild. You protested all the way to his own private tent, scrambling and punching, trying to get free from his grasp.

He threw you inside, blocking the passage from the outside. The only light came from a few lamps on his desk.

" Over? This is what you think? That is over?"

"I don't think it's over; I know it! I don't care about you! Not anymore!"

"Where's your ring? ...The one that I gave you?"

"...I sold it. I needed money to find a new place. After your...I-I lost everything. I wanted to start again."

Of course, that was almost natural. Everything that was yours was under his name; of course, the Marines would have your house confiscated. You needed to survive—such a clever girl.

If he only knew the feelings of freedom that you felt once you got rid of that small gift.

"You can start here with me."

"No! I said, I want to go home!"

"I AM YOUR HOME, GODDAMMIT!"

His bigger hands grasped your shoulders, squeezing them with force, like you could run away at any second. something that you were considering.

"You're nothing to-"

"You think that you can just walk away like this?! Do you have any idea what happened?! Two years in that prison, not a chance to know anything about you?!"

Then he stopped, and you saw something dark in his eyes. He wasn't angry, not anymore, but he was something else, something scarier.

"Did you find someone else?"

All the strength that you had left in your body, like the oxygen in your lungs, You were scared—no, terrified. You never had anyone else; you were too afraid to be betrayed again, but it wasn't even like you never thought about it. You avoided his gaze, not knowing what to say. All the answers that you could say end in the same way, and you didn't want any of the outcomes.

"Did you?"

"I didn't, but I wanted... I wanted to forget everything and start over."

You were always so easy to read, so he knew that you were telling the truth. He wanted to keep you away from everything that belonged to his normal life, to secure his flower, and to keep you to himself. The final outcome was something that he didn't expect, but he never imagined that, in the end, you would have been one of the victims too. 

A long pause, one that scared you. Once you saw a movement from him, you closed his eyes. He sighed deeply; this one hurt him deeply. To believe that he could hit you...he was a rough man, but not to this point, not to you at least.

His calloused hand gently stroked your head, softly touching your cheek, trying to convince you to finally look at him. A gesture so in contrast with his entire being, so gentle and delicate, away from prying eyes. Something that only you should know. You opened your eyes, full of fears and tears, ready to spill.

"You belong by my side... You weren't supposed to know anything."

He took away one of his rings from his hand, a deep red ruby gemstone, gently placing it on your forefinger. It was larger compared to you...

"This time we'll make it right... No one will take you away again."

He gently held your figure, too scared to fight him. His perfume brought back all the memories that you tried to erase with every fiber of your mind.

This time, he would have to make sure that no one took away his flower.

"You're mine, got it?"