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itsmarsss · 6 months ago

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Vulgar Display of Power [Miguel Diaz x fem!Reader] (Cobra Kai)

You can never fucking beat him in a fight and it's getting frustrating.

Request: omg more miguel please!!! smutty if u can xx already dating if you want? Fic title comes from my (second) favorite Pantera album. Word count: 4,350 Warnings: SMUT. established relationship, theres plot but it only serves to justify the sex lol, i use present tense in this, degrading, first time sub!miguel kind of, handjob, fingering, oral sex, penetration (p in v), semi-public sex (i guess? no one's around but the location isn't exactly private), a lot of use of pet names (baby, babe, love, mi amor), so much swearing. obviously no one is a minor here I don't mention much context but can be read as hs senior year or later, doesn't really matter. if you're a minor kindly keep away from my blog and this fic please

“Fuck!” You yell out as Sensei Lawrence announces Miguel’s win. In turn of your frustration, Miguel sports a grin that playfully mocked you.

Now don’t get it twisted, you’re not a bad fighter. You’re not even a good one- you’re great. The best, except for…

“Diaz! Good one.” Sensei Lawrence praises.

“Nice, dude!” Hawk comes to fist bump him.

Tory comes to you. “Girl get it together! You’re better than that!”

“I’m fucking trying.”

Miguel hears the two of you talking and decides to insert himself into the conversation. “Come on, it’s not a big deal.”

“I say this with love but it is a big deal and I’m gonna find a way to beat you.”

“Okay. Whatever you say.”

[. . .]

“Hey,” you hear Miguel call from behind you, turning around for a split second to look at him before getting back to packing your stuff to leave the dojo.

“Hey.”

“So, are we still on for tonight?”

“Yeah. I just wanna go home first and take a shower.”

He scratches the back of his neck. “Hey are you okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“Something seems… weird.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, babe,” you tell him, bringing a hand to his face and lightly tapping his cheek.

“You sure?”

“Yes! I just said it is!” You realize you blew up at him for no reason, immediately feeling bad for it and apologizing, not managing to look at him. “Sorry.”

“See? That’s what I mean!”

“I really am sorry.”

“Okay, but something’s clearly wrong.”

You stay silent, and he walks up to you, cornering you so you’d face him.

“What’s going on?”

Honestly, you don’t want to tell him. Because it would sound stupid. Because it is stupid. You don’t even exactly know why it had gotten so under your skin this time.

“It’s fine. I’m just a bit off today.”

“You don’t have to talk about it, but you don't have to lie either.”

“Fine. You wanna know what’s wrong? I’m frustrated because you keep beating me.”

“What?”

“Every single time we’re picked to fight I just can’t fucking beat you. And yes, I’m glad you don’t go easy on me, cause that would be like a million times worse, but I'm frustrated with myself. You’re the only one I've never fully beat in a match. The closest I’ve ever gotten to that was a tie.”

“Well most of the time it ends up in a tie.”

“Yeah but none of the time did it end with me winning.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset about this.”

“Of course you don’t. I just feel like if I still can’t beat you then have I really been getting better?”

“What? That’s nonsense, babe. You know that, right? Of course you’ve been getting better. We all have.”

“See I told you it would be stupid. I don't even know why I'm feeling this way.”

“That’s okay. We can just sort that out.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll ask sensei for the keys.”

“What?”

“We’re gonna stay here and fight and we’re not gonna leave until you win.”

“That’s really not what I was trying to get from this-”

“What, are you scared?” He knew just how to tug on your strings.

“Oh fuck no.”

“Then we’re doing this.”

“But what about the date?”

“We can go tomorrow. If you need my help today, I'll help you today.”

“Okay.”

[. . .]

“Alright, ready?”

You only nod your head yes, too focused to even speak.

“Okay. Round one.”

You get a couple punches in, but he’s faster than most of your hits. He wins..

You huff, annoyed. “Again.”

“Again.”

“Okay that’s it. Again.”

This time, determination runs through your veins, as tired as you were. Every single moment of feeling weak or inferior or as though you were seen by others as basically the female equivalent of Miguel, and not yourself, not someone capable of being better than him in any way, channeled into this round.

And you won. This time, you fucking won.

“Wait that’s three,” you realize.

“Yeah! You won!” Miguel celebrates.

“What?”

“You won, babe!”

“Oh my God. Holy fucking shit. I won?!”

He laughs, coming up to you. “You did.” He places a quick kiss on your lips, but you’re taken over by the adrenaline, pulling him back to you by the collar of his shirt when he went to pull away, tangling him into another kiss, deeper and more passionate this time around. “That was hot,” he comments, as you finally did let him part ways with you to breathe, your bodies still flushed together.

You feel your cheeks burn at his comment. “I just kicked your ass,” you joke.

He doesn’t even seem fazed by the comment. “Yeah you did,” he grins.

“I did not expect that to unlock some sort of loser kink in you.”

“Hey! That’s not what this is!”

You lift an eyebrow, amused.

“What, you’re telling me it’s a crime if my insanely hot girlfriend looks insanely hot while kicking my ass?”

“Should I kick your ass more often then?”

“You’re welcome to.”

“You’re so weird.”

“Shut up,” he retorts, finally having enough of the playful bantering, unable to wait a second longer to have your lips on his again.

Miguel pulls you even closer to him- if that were even possible- by pulling on your waist, not wasting a second more before diving in again, pulling you into a kiss that is much more feral this time around. His actions scream that he wants you, and the high from having reached your goal and beat him in the last round mixed with the lust forming in you from seeing him so affected, so attracted to this, it feels good.

You suppose some people would maybe come into an issue if they found themselves in your place. Men aren’t exactly known for being great at dealing with women being better than them in… well, anything. But Miguel acted genuinely proud of you. Hell, he’d canceled your date night to help you with this because he realized it was important to you. And more than being supportive, he was turned on by your display of power.

His kisses start trailing out of your lips, to your jaw, to the space below your ear. “You did so well, love. You should get something in turn, huh?”

Your mind was getting a bit foggy. Still, you join in playing his game. “I suppose I should. What are you gonna do?”

“Whatever you want me to,” he breathes out. Oh. That was definitely new.

“Whatever I want?” He only nods, looking up at you, waiting to be told what to do. Holy shit, that was hot. “That sounds good.”

“Just tell me, please, I’ll make you feel so good, I promise,” he pleads. It was almost pathetic. You decide you’d never get enough of hearing him plead like that. You loved the times in which he was more dominant, but you could definitely get behind this too, no issues whatsoever.

You pretend to think. “I don’t think I will.”

“What? Why not?”

“I want you to guess.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“I- Uh- Ih-” he takes a deep breath. He liked that. You smiled. “I can do that.”

“Good boy,” you try, hoping he didn’t find it weird.

Apparently, he didn’t. “Fuck. Fuck,” he lets out in almost strangled sounds, wordlessly dropping himself to the floor. He looks up at you with doe eyes, as if pleading for permission. You smile at him, signaling everything was okay. You cage his jaw with both your hands, and he closes his eyes for a moment, letting you play with his hair.

“You look so pretty like this,” you coo, and he feels it down his spine, his eyes fluttering open.

“Sit.”

“What?”

“Sit,” he repeats himself, but it isn’t demanding. Not this time.

“I heard you.”

“Sit, please, baby.”

You grin. You didn’t know you’d like this this much. “Of course, baby.” You sit down on the bench, legs closed. He parts them confidently, eyes not leaving yours as he does so slowly, positioning his body between them. With his face mere inches from yours, he looks up at you again.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” He guesses. His cheeks red, he clearly looks embarrassed. It turned him on and it turned you on too.

You nod eagerly, signaling he’d guessed right. He smiles and closes the distance between you, pulling you down and attaching his lips to yours. It starts out slow, tender, experimental- testing the waters. He grows eager pretty fast, though, kissing you harder, his hands traveling to either of your thighs and planting themselves there firmly, squeezing in a way that makes you gasp slightly in surprise.

He pulls away just to tease you about it. That’s the kind of little shit he is.

“What was that for?”

“Nothing.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Not this then?”

He squeezes your thigh again and you try to act unbothered.” He notices though, pleased with himself.

“Oh shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.”

He pulls you into a kiss again with no warning, more feral than before, his hand traveling upwards, inside the legs of the shorts you were wearing.

“Take it off,” you pant out, a stern tone overtaking your words, and he complies without questioning. You smile, pleased with that. You lift your hips slightly for him and he throws the shorts somewhere on the floor behind you.

He stares at your underwear for a few moments, as if lost in a trance. You laugh. “Hello? You here?”

“Yeah. Sorry. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this.”

“Used to what?” You move a hand to caress his face.

“The fact that I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.”

“Aw, do you like that, baby? Does it turn you on?” You ask, your tone almost mocking him.

He only nods his head yes, looking embarrassed.

“That’s good.” You make a show to slowly take off your shirt, a sudden surge of confidence running through your veins at his words, discarding it along with the shorts behind you. His eyes widen and he mumbles a few words, the volume of his words so low you couldn’t make it out for the life of you, before he just surges forward again, not aiming for your lips this time, but for your jaw.

“What was that?” You manage to breathe out as he continues his trail of kisses along your jaw.

“What?”

“If you’re gonna talk you’re gonna let me hear it. Got it?”

“Oh-okay.” He continues to place quick, slight pecks along your jawline, but you know exactly what he’s doing.

“You’re not distracting me from that. I wanna know what you said, baby. Wanna hear you.”

“I said- I said uh-“ he gulps. “It’s dumb.”

“That’s okay.”

“I just said ‘fuck me’.”

You let out a small laugh. “Oh. It was dumb,” you mock him again, and you can see he didn’t expect that.

“What?”

“I though you wanted to fuck me,” you joke.

He doesn’t take it as a joke. “I do. I do I just meant- it was just-“ oh. This was for real.

“I know, love. I was just teasing you. Okay? You’re being so good to me.”

His eyes almost sparkle at the praise.

“You know I think I changed my mind.”

“What?”

“Maybe I should fuck you.”

“What do you mean?”

You look down on him and smile, a genuine sweet smile. “Get up.”

“But-“

“I thought you said you’d do whatever i wanted you to,” you fake-pout.

He doesn’t say a word before standing back up. You do the same, keeping your body flushed to his. You slowly turn the two of you around, cornering him until the back of his knees hit the bench and pushing him to sit down on it.

Standing in front of him, you tilt your head to the side as you take in the view. He looked disheveled as ever. You loved it. “I think you’re wearing too many clothes.

“I- I can take it off.”

“Yeah I think you should.”

“What… what do you want me to take off?”

“Let’s go with the shirt first, baby. How about that?”

He nods furiously. “Yeah I can do that,” he takes his shirt off in a millisecond, throwing it with your clothes on the floor.

“Oh, you look so pretty,” you coo, stepping closer to him and lifting his chin up to look at you. You make your way around the bench to be behind him, and you can see him gulp in anticipation. Fuck, you were loving this a little too much. You trace his biceps with your finger. “Your arms, I love your arms, you know that? So big and strong,” you exaggerate, and he quirks an eyebrow at the suspicious comment. This doesn’t sound like it was getting to a nice praising place. “And your body, I mean your abs. Your thighs, your thighs are so pretty, baby,” you crouch a bit, still behind him, wrapping yourself around his back so you could snake your arms to his thighs, still only tracing them with a single finger. “So how come you lost to me like a bitch?”

That seems to remind him very well of what was happening.

“It- it was one time.”

“One time you lost to me. But you’ve barely ever won, have you?”

He stays quiet.

“Come on, baby, talk to me…” you pout, snaking your arms around his torso and kissing his neck.

“N-no.”

“Did you like that you lost to me baby?”

Quiet again.

“Did it turn you on?” You whisper in his ear and you can feel him take in big a breath. .

He couldn’t even look at you .

“Oh, pretty boy, I wanna hear your voice!”

He gulps again. “It- it turned me on,” he confesses.

“I never knew you were into this sort of thing.”

“Me- me neither.”

“Do you like it when I’m stronger than you? When I tell you what to do?”

You remove yourself from his body entirely, and he whips his head at record speed to look at you, desperate for your touch again. You circle the bench once again, standing in front of him. You grab his jaw and lifts his head up to look at you, your other hand messing with his hair. “So pathetic. I’ve barely done anything to you and you’re this hard.”

You finally sit yourself down on his thighs, legs on either side of his torso, and he immediately and instinctively grabs your ass ‘for support’ as he’s always insisted with a grin.

“You’re so fucking pathetic you’ll do anything I tell you to. Won’t you?” You pout, tilting your head.

“I’ll- I’ll do anything you want.”

“That’s a good boy,” you mess with and pet his hair again. You loved it when it was just long enough for his curls to appear.

He shivers. “Can you say it again?”

“Oh, no can do, baby. You’ll have to keep being a good boy to earn it.”

“I’ll- I’ll be a good boy, okay?”

You nod silently, your arms draped around his neck, and you pull yourself closer to get access to his face. You kiss along his jawline slowly, paying extra attention to the spots just under his ears, which made him shiver like crazy. When you find it sufficient, you move down to his neck, and he lets you, tilting his head to the side. You kiss down his neck, trying your best to not leave any marks. He’s still shivering now, and you know him well enough to know he’s okay, but can’t resist teasing him a bit more.

“Oh no, baby, you’re trembling! Is everything okay?” You feign ignorance. He doesn’t reply. “Aw are you too horny to speak to me? Is that the issue?” You mock.

He lifts his hips for some friction, an involuntary tell that he was enjoying this too. “Aw, do you like it when I’m mean to you? Huh?” You lift his chin again. He begrudgingly nods his head yes. You smile and move your hand from his chin to his cheeks, squeezing both off them. “Does my baby like it when I’m in control? When I handle you like this? When I call you names?”

He tries to reply, but can’t really with you squeezing his face like that.

“Oh I can’t hear you baby!” You let go of his face. “You’re gonna have to say it again.”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, I- I like it when you’re mean to me.”

“I know, baby boy. I can feel it.” With no other warning, you palm him through his shorts. He was impossibly hard. Knowing he was liking this was for sure improving your confidence. The moment your hand meets his crotch his breathing becomes unsteady and he thrusts his hips up again, wanting more. You start kissing along his neck as you keep feeling him up through the shorts, and then he is gone. He lets himself let out delicious moans you would play on repeat if you could, tilting his head back to grant you better access to his neck. He wants more, and you know he does. But you want to hear him say it.

After a few minutes, he does.

“Please take it off.”

You press a gentle kiss to his neck, containing a grin. “What are you talking about, babe?”

“My shorts, take them off, please. Please, take them off.”

You press a quick peck on his lips this time. “You beg so pretty, baby. I think I’ll need more of that.”

He looks confused.

“Anything I tell you, right?”

He nods.

“Good. Eat me out.”

His eyes widen at the bluntness of it all. And then he realizes what you meant by needing more of his begging: you weren’t going to solve his little problem all that soon.

“I- yes. Yeah.”

You pull yourself off of him and he stands up as quickly as humanly possible, grabbing your hand and yanking you to Sensei’s office, rushing to move everything that was on his desk. You catch his drift and pull yourself up to sit on it. You’re so enthralled you don’t even really have the time to rethink what you’re doing and where you are. Miguel gets himself on his knees, and the sight of it from above is breathtaking.

“Are you sure you wanna be on your knees? They’re gonna hurt.” You ask him, seriously this time.

“I don’t care,” is all he says, dismissing the thought. He pulls you closer to the edge of the desk, and you let yourself lean back on your elbows. He brings a hand up your thigh and takes off your underwear, you lift your hips up to help.

He brings both his hands to your thighs, slowly pulling them apart, opening your legs.

He wastes no time before diving in, startling you when, in a second, his head is between your thighs while his hands squeeze them hard and his mouth is suddenly on you.

He moves his tongue up and down your clit, occasionally circling around it. Now and then he takes a long lick, from your hole to your clit, letting out a moan from time to time as he tastes you, and he picks up on the shaky breaths and loud moans you let out at that (and the way your hands fly to his hair, slightly pulling it.)

He moves his tongue to your hole, licking and kissing around it before getting it inside.

It makes you almost want to scream out his name.

“Oh my god. You’re being so good to me, baby. Please don’t stop-”

You can feel his smile.

He takes one of his hands off of your thigh and moves it to thumb at your clit as he keeps fucking you with his tongue. The feeling is heavenly, but you can’t help but want more.

“Your fingers.” Is all you say, and he gets it.

Normally in a situation like this he’d be teasing you in some way, but right now just the thought of upsetting you with that and having you leaving him to finish himself off, or something down that lane, got him quiet.

He changes what he’s doing, going back to flicking your clit with his tongue, and slowly inserting one of his fingers. You decide you want to tease a bit more. “That all you got?” You challenge him, knowing exactly what you’re doing. He inserts another finger, not taking the care to do it slowly this time, and he pushes them deep inside you, curling them upwards to make sure you felt it.

You let out a moan that’s so pornographic you’re almost embarrassed at it, but you can feel him grin at it, pleased with the reaction. He keeps on, but at a slow pace. In other instances, you didn’t mind some slow, passionate sex. You loved it, even. But right now you wanted to be fucked.

“Harder.”

He pulls his head up to kiss you. You let him. As you make out, your taste still on his tongue, his fingers thrust harder, deeper inside you, making you moan into his mouth, which Miguel seemed to enjoy a little too much.

You can feel yourself brimming an orgasm, and your words become nonsense as he keeps on, your noises becoming so higher-pitched you can barely register you’re the one making them.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum. Baby, I’m gonna cum. Holy fucking-“

It hits you suddenly, killing your train of thought. Your body trembles as he keeps thrusting his fingers into you, letting you ride out your high. He laps it all up gladly, but you pull him away, your clit oversensitive.

That doesn’t mean you didn’t want more.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes, baby. You were such a good boy. But I want you to fuck me now.”

Miguel was still not used to you being this blunt. And honestly neither were you, for the matter. The words just kept coming out.

“What- what do you want me to do?”

You get close to his ear and whisper. “Whatever you want, baby.”

His eyes widen. Whatever he wants.

He pulls you off the desk and wordlessly takes you back to the locker room. He leaves you for a second to retrieve a condom from his bag. A prepared man, you’d say.

You manage to take a better look at him and laugh. He furrows his eyebrows together. “What?”

“You look so fucked out right now.”

He rolls his eyes at you and takes off his shorts, kicking them away. He goes to pull his boxers down but you stop him, stroking him in an agonizingly slow pace. He lets out a groan. “Please stop, I’m not gonna last.”

“Oh poor you.” You yank his boxers down. His dick is so hard it must be painful. And all from losing a fight and being called mean names. He walks the two of you backwards until your back is against a wall. He puts the condom on and looks at you for a green light.

“Go on, baby.”

He nods, pressing his cock into your hole slowly, letting you adjust to the intrusion.

“Fuck.” You breathe out.

“Was that a good fuck or a bad fuck? Does it hurt?”

“I’m alright. It was a good fuck.”

“Okay.” He hikes up one of your legs to his waist, and you think he’ll be content with that position, but he hikes up your other leg too, pressing your back even more firmly to the wall and supporting your weight by holding firmly onto the back of your thighs.

“Woah what are you doing?”

He doesn’t bother responding, thrusting into you experimentally.

“Holy shit.”

That is enough for him. His thrusts become harder, deeper, faster. He hadn’t realized just how desperate he was until now.

Hitting the spot inside you that made you see stars with every thrust, it doesn’t take long for his breath to quicken and his thrusts to become sloppier. “I’m gonna- can I-“

Was he trying to ask for permission to cum? Holy fucking shit, that was hot.

“Shh, it’s okay baby. You’ve been so good. You can cum.”

“Thankyouthankyouthankyou,” he chanted.

You laugh as his desperation, but it quickly turns into a moan, with Miguel eager to cum and fucking you so hard now you can’t even understand how he could still hold up your weight while doing that. Bless you universe for giving you a strong, strong boyfriend. But all of that didn’t matter now, because he was fucking you so good you could feel the familiar sensation of an orgasm building again.

“Please don’t stop.” That was the first time you begged him for something the whole time.

“I won’t, mi amor.” Oh, that broke you. That one pet name didn’t come out all that frequently, so when it did, you felt giddy on the inside.

With a few more thrusts, both of you reach your high, and at that point Miguel did have to pull you down, although your legs currently trembled so hard it was a little difficult to stand, but he helps you out after tying the condom up and throwing it away.

“Holy shit,” you finally let out.

“Holy shit,” he agrees.

“What were you saying about your loser kink again?”

“Will you shut up about that?” He smiles.

“Was I too mean to you? I might’ve gotten a little carried away."

He looks down to the floor in embarrassment as if he hadn’t just fucked you into oblivion. “I liked it.”

“That’s good baby. So, shower?”

“Yeah you stink,” he makes a disgusted face, plugging his nose and everything just to irritate you.

You roll your eyes at him.

A/N: pls be kind to me and cut me some slack i've never posted smut before 😭 i promise ive had sex before 😭 fighting for my life lmao

#cobra kai #cobra kai imagine #miguel diaz #miguel diaz x reader #miguel diaz imagine #miguel diaz x you #cobra kai x reader #johnny lawrence #eli moskowitz #hawk #tori nichols #mars writes #miguel diaz smut #miguel diaz x reader smut

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lightseoul · 1 month ago

Note

hi! please could you do number 7 with the mc having a ghost-related quirk??

decided to quickly write this one just in time for halloween! i hope y'all enjoy this little piece amidst the boop war we all find ourselves in right now lol. thank you for playing n have a nice day <3

(this is lightseoul's 2k milestone event ft. bakugou katsuki! to play, view the numbered list of prompts here, then simply send an ask with your chosen number and i'll whip something up!)

7. "THE GHOSTS WOULD DISAGREE WITH YOU." (1.3k)

“you’re a fucking weirdo, you know that?”

you don’t even look up from the churro you’re munching on, opting to ignore the ash-blonde sitting right next to your left.

“what,” he continues, and if you didn’t know any better, he’s starting to sound a little annoyed. “you’re not even gonna defend yourself?”

what you’re not about to do is tell him you’ve heard that taunt over and over again growing up, lest you end up seeming pitiful, which you aren’t.

so you merely shrug. “i don’t see the point. i know it’s not true.”

at that, you finally glance at the man, who’s looking nothing short of speechless under the dim light of the lounge that’s decked out with ‘spooky’ embellishments.

cute is the first thing that comes to mind.

he just fucking insulted you is the next.

still, you can’t help the smile that takes over your features. “you’re the weird one, anyway. why would you say that to your date?”

bakugou promptly breaks eye contact, choosing to stare at the human skeleton that’s conveniently parked at the corner of the room. you follow his line of vision, and you have to stop yourself from snorting at the sight.

the people manning this haunted house-themed attraction sure took budget decorating to the next level.

beside you, the pro-hero huffs. “i’m only saying that because this is your idea of a good first date,” he gestures vaguely to your surroundings, an incredulous expression on his face as he tosses you a pointed look. “a horror escape room? really?”

“what?” you say, trying to sound the slightest bit defensive for the sake of it. “it gives us plenty of excuses to get closer.”

whatever bakugou expected you to say in response, it surely wasn’t that.

the man only splutters, quickly diverting his gaze and plopping back against his seat with his muscled arms folded across his broad chest like a petulant child.

he then mutters something that you wouldn’t have caught for the life of you if it weren’t for the thing.

you grin.

“you wanted me to latch onto you for safety? you could’ve just said so.”

almost instantaneously, bakugou whips to stare at you, an absolutely horrified expression etched all over his face.

“what the fuck?”

you flash him the most innocent look you can muster. “what?”

he’s now glaring at you, but there’s no missing the redness that has crept up the high planes of his cheeks. he opens his mouth as if to say something but hesitates. he tries again, gaze fixated on you for a couple more seconds until he shakes his head in disbelief.

“…there’s no fucking way.”

you shrug again, but bakugou only stares at you, eyes squinting in suspicion. “unless…”

and, in a blink of an eye you almost could’ve missed it if you weren’t staring at him yourself, you see profound realization dawn on his features.

you gulp despite yourself.

“you have a fucking quirk?”

the truth must have been written all over your exterior, because the man leans back in slow motion like the way one would when faced with a relatively shocking revelation.

you rub at the back of your neck, suddenly feeling too self-conscious. this was the part that always made you feel uncomfortable, no matter what the context.

but especially during a first date.

“i never said i was quirkless…”

“yeah, no shit,” he retorts, not missing a single bit. “what is it, superior hearing or something?”

you shake your head slowly, “no, but it does make me privy to things that i don’t perceive with my own senses.”

bakugou’s eyebrows furrow in what you think is confusion. “what else?”

“uh—” you pause, eyes drifting down to your fiddling fingers, “—i can also levitate, be invisible, and permeate through things.”

when he doesn’t say anything for a moment, you finally chance a glance at the man, and he’s looking honest-to-god gagged.

pro-hero dynamight is fucking gagged and it’s because of you.

before he can get a word in, though, you quickly follow it up with: “but they make me so nauseous that i can barely pull them off. they’re useless, really.”

when you’re met with nothing but silence, you continue.

“i know,” you chuckle, although it comes out awkward and stilted. “it’s weird. you’re right, after all. i was just messing with you.”

more silence.

not knowing what else to do or say, you take a huge bite of your pastry, although you’re far from hungry, stomach now churning in embarrassment.

you’re in the middle of chewing the remnants of your last bite when bakugou finally speaks up.

now, you’ve heard about how the #9 pro-hero, despite his aggression and temper and generally unpleasant personality, is exceptionally intelligent, perceptive, and intuitive, but you never really thought much about it.

not even when you found out a few hours earlier that the blind date your friends set you up with was your distant superior dynamight himself.

and while you always had a thing for capable men, you didn’t want to fall early and hard lest you hurt yourself in the process. so you merely pushed back against the prejudices and expectations you had of him, and decided to just observe the person who was actually in front of you for the rest of your date.

but when he says the next thing, everything you’ve heard about him suddenly makes sense.

“…so it’s a ghost quirk.”

you don’t even get the opportunity to choke on your churro or gape at him because bakugou shakes his head so fervently, before: “that’s such a fucking waste.”

“e-excuse me?”

at your query, he locks eyes with you. “you have a strong-ass quirk, yet you’re working in admin for us. you could be doing more.”

a thousand questions fight to escape your lips, but what manages to emerge victorious is: “how’d you know i’m working admin for ground riot?”

bakugou scowls at you, but again, there’s that scarlet on his cheeks. he doesn’t answer your question, though, instead going for: “that’s your fucking takeaway?”

you shrug, not knowing what else to say. “i know my quirk is strong. but i was always made to feel like i was weird and creepy for it growing up—and until now, actually, which is why i don’t really talk about it—so i just learned not to use it.”

“well, most of it,” you add, and bakugou cocks his head to the side in question.

you take a shaky inhale.

“…ghosts still choose to talk to me.”

“that how you pick up on things beyond your five senses?”

you try not to gawk at him and at how fast he put two and two together. “…yeah.”

neither of you says anything for a few moments before bakugou finally shifts in his seat, rolling his shoulders back.

as he does so, he pipes up with: “well, i guess they’re not always accurate, though.”

you frown. although you rarely use your quirk, you still pride yourself in your capacity. “what do you mean?”

at that, bakugou turns to regard you, an unidentifiable expression on his face. “i did not want you to latch onto me.”

this time, you really can’t help it. you snort, and that grants you a glower from the pro-hero. you take it in stride, though, waving him off.

“sure, big guy.”

“don’t—” he sits up, “fucking—i’m serious—”

“yeah, but the ghosts—” he throws you a punch, which you dodge, “would disagree—” you dodge another, “ with you—” he barely misses you, “—though,” you finally finish.

and really, you don’t even need your trusty ghosts to know that—the blush that’s taken over the entirety of his face is all the proof you need.

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lizard-on-a-window-pane · 1 year ago

Text

The Reading Chair

pairing: Remus x reader

tags / warnings: NSFW! (minors do not interact), smut, smut, and… more smut; established relationship, sex, fem!reader, slight praise kink

notes: written as a continuation of my previous fic, but either can be read alone; the only context is that in this au remus and reader opened a bookshop together

word count: 2.9k

“I hope you enjoy it. Thanks for coming in,” you say with a smile to the last customer of the day. You’re completely knackered as you turn the sign from “open” to “closed” behind her. It had been a hectic day, the kind you were grateful for in the grand scheme of it all but ready to wrap up by its end. You’re rubbing your tense neck as you make your way back over to the counter, where there remains work to be done. You’re having to read the words and numbers over and over again to make sense of them, your mind not in it at all, as you look guiltily over at your book sitting beckoningly next to your paperwork. A break won’t hurt, you think to yourself. I’ll still get all this done later. I just need a little energy first. You snatch up the book and head to your comfy armchair in the corner, delving into the next chapter that you’ve so eagerly been anticipating.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been reading when you hear the door open and close. You see his messy brown hair over the shelves before you see him fully.

“Y/N?” Remus’s voice calls. “Hey, Rem,” you speak up. He walks past the counter, around the shelves to your reading nook and leans against them, observing you intently with an adoring grin on his face. You stick your tongue out at him.

Laughing, he tells you, “You know… When I think of you when we’re apart,” he starts moving slowly toward you. “Which is most of the time when we’re apart, if I’m honest…” A self-satisfied chuckle as he gets closer. “I usually picture you right here. As you are, right now.” He kneels in front of your chair and gives you a quick kiss in greeting. “So beautiful.” His eyes travel your face. “With your nose in a book.” He grabs your book from you and places it on the table. You go to complain, but he stops you with a knowing look, a cheeky grin, and continuing, “And your legs in this weird position you find so comfortable.” He’s chuckling as he runs his hands up and down your thighs. You uncross your legs and let them rest on either side of him; he keeps rubbing them. You wrap your arms around his neck. “Is that so?” you tease. “Mmhmm,” he confirms, kissing you again, lingering longer this time.

“I usually think of you naked,” you tell him, and he breaks into a barking laugh.

“Oh yeah?”

“Hm,” you nod, smiling warmly at him. He moves his hands up your sides and rubs your shoulders a bit. You let out a long, loud sigh you didn’t realize you had pent up. “Long day?” he asks knowingly. You just nod. It’s a little odd with his sitting in front of you, but he begins massaging your neck and shoulders. “I’m sorry I had to go during the rush,” he says sincerely. “Don’t be silly, Rem. That was for work, too. And it’s good — really good — business going up. And I can handle it.” “I know you can, lovely, but I don’t like seeing you so drained.” His hand caresses your face then rests in your hair and scratches at your scalp soothingly. It feels wonderful, sending tingles down your spine. You hum and lean into it. With your eyes closed, you miss the way his eyes travel down your torso. His grip in your hair gets a little bit tighter and his thumb traces the curve of your jaw. “I can help you relax, you know…” He sounds different. You open your eyes and see the way he’s looking at you.

“Oh?” Oh.

“Mmm.” His sound is guttural, and you’re not sure if it’s meant to mean “yes.” His hand on your hip tightens then slips under your shirt. “Here?” you ask, meaning to sound skeptical, sounding slightly desperate instead.

“I locked up behind me,” he tells you as he closes the distance between you and kisses you hard, his tongue immediately plunging into your mouth. You kiss him back ardently. His hand moves up your body, grazing your stomach then your chest, then resting on your neck. His hands now on either side of your face, he holds you firmly before gripping it and moving your head sideways, kissing down your jaw and neck slowly and sloppily. He stops at the sensitive spot below your ear and sucks. You moan and inadvertently rut forward. You feel his smile against your now moist skin. His teeth graze over your pulse point, and he keeps heading lower, pulling your shirt down out of his path as he kisses his way to your collar bone. He licks across it then just nuzzles into the crook of your neck. “I want to make you feel good,” he whispers hoarsely, and your whole body shivers in response.

“Remus,” you sigh. “I want to. Fuck, I want to. But maybe we should wait till we go home.” You’d messed around at the shop before, but never further than this. He shakes his head “no” where it rests flush with your body and kisses your neck as he says, “Uh-uh. Too long.” He leans back, pulls your shirt over your head, and connects your lips again urgently. You melt into him and kiss him back with matching passion. His hands are everywhere as you make out then they come to rest on your bare hips as he stops the kiss but stays close, his forehead resting on yours, his breathing heavy.

Staring into your eyes, the hint of a smile across his swollen lips, he moves his fingers painstakingly slowly up your back. You’re slightly sweaty and extremely turned on, and you shiver again at his touch. He bites his lower lip as he unfastens your bra. You feel the weight of the loss of the support, and it feels nice. His hands come up to the straps and they pull them down equally slowly. The slightest motion would make the cups fall forward now, but you stay still, staring at him from under lidded eyes and long lashes. His hands come up to where your chest becomes your breasts, and his fingers caress down with a light touch until he reaches the tops of your bra cups. He continues the motion seamlessly, dragging the fabric down until it drops into you lap. His hands still floating above your breasts, featherlight touches electric, he brings his thumbs to your quickly hardening nipples and runs them across once lightly then again roughly. You whimper in response, and he tweaks your nipples between his fingers, abandoning the teasing, pushing and tugging harshly. Your whimpers grow louder, and he swallows them with a rough kiss before quickly moving his head down and wrapping his lips around your hard nipple. Moaning as he sucks on your tit, he kneads the other, and you hold his head to you with a firm grip in his hair. He runs his tongue around and around the bud then gives it a long wet lick before sucking it into his mouth again and humming around you. You’re loud now as the pleasure shoots through you, and as he switches from one breast to the other, planting a kiss in between them along the way, he gruffly tells you, “Fuck, I love your noises,” and after sucking your other nipple harshly adds, “and your tits. Fucking hell your tits.” Your chuckle mutates into a screamy moan as he bites carefully down on your aching bud, his tongue playing with it between his teeth. He bites and licks, kisses and sucks, and when he’s through playing with you, he kneads your chest roughly with both hands as his mouth kisses yours forcefully. You squirm in the seat as you push your tongue into his mouth and your chest into his hands.

Both of your breathing is coming loud and laboured as he pulls back and stares at you for a moment. With his panting mouth open, he smiles brightly at you, brings his forehead back against yours, and moves his hands to the button of your trousers.

The idea of protesting flitters across your mind, but unable to find a good enough reason not to give in, a fraction of a second later, your hips are in the air to aid in his removal of your trousers. You’re sitting there in only your knickers, wet and panting, and he pulls further away than he has since he came down to you.

Looking you over with almost black eyes, he chuckles and says, “Sorry, love, but I have to commit this to memory. You’re so fucking hot, I think I’ll get off on this for the rest of my life.” You laugh lightly and ask, “Still going to think of me reading when we’re apart?” You stick your chest out and open your legs wider. His eyes rolling to the back of his head, he groans animalistically and instinctively grabs the bulge in his trousers at the sight.

“Sure I will, lovely. Just naked too.” And with that, he delves back into you, starting at your mouth and worshipping his way down your neck, your chest, your stomach, till his face was even with your cunt. He nuzzles it playfully, and you whine, your hand coming to his hair and pushing him into you as you rut up, making him chuckle darkly.

“Don’t worry baby,” he teases. “I’ll take care of you.” His tongue, strong and flat against you, licks over your panties from your opening to your pubic bone. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this wet before,” he says, high on it. You whimper and rut again.

He sneaks a finger into your underwear where it’s soaked at your entrance. He separates the fabric that clings to your skin with your wetness and caresses up and down your folds, examining your cunt with the utmost scrutiny as he does. You’d think you’d feel shy at this, but the look in his eyes and the feeling in your core set you on fire, and you fucking love it. You open your legs as wide as you can, and with an eyebrow quirked, he looks up at you and smiles. “Good girl,” he tells you for the first time ever, and you mewl loudly and melt into the chair. He’s surprised at the intensity of your reaction and tries it again. “You like being my good girl, Y/N? my best fucking girl?” You nod vehemently and your grip on the armchair threatens to damage it. “Fuck,” he laughs. “Then I’d better make my favourite girl feel good then, huh?”

He pulls your panties to the side and licks up your folds several times, lapping the dripping arousal. He detaches his mouth from your lower lips, and you whine, but he’s only swiftly ripping your knickers off before latching on again, moaning into you. He sticks his tongue in your hole, and you half gasp half scream in response. He continues fucking into you with more and more force, his nose sending godly pleasure through your clit with each thrust and shake of his face.

“Remus, Remus, Remus,” you pray, your thighs shaking. He hums into your hole then starts sucking on your labia till he reaches your clit and sucks there. You cum all over his face. He hums and sucks and vibrates as you scream. When your shakes become shivers, he pulls off, licks your cunt from bottom to top, plants a kiss on your clit, then brings his face back to yours. It’s shining with wetness like never before.

“You’ve never cum like that,” he says amazed. “You’ve never eaten me like that,” you retort. He’s biting his soaked, swollen bottom lip and beaming. He runs his tongue slowly around his lips, lightly humming at the taste of you. You whimper at the sight, and he chuckles. “I like you all whimpery like this,” he teases. You feel your cheeks warm and move your hands to your face, but before they even reach it, Remus grabs your wrists and pins them back down against the arms of the sofa chair. “Uh-uh, lovely. No hiding. You’re too pretty, and I’m too needy. I need to see you.” He stares into your face then looks you up and down, his gaze lingering on your still dripping cunt, your heaving tits, your blissed out face. “Holy fuck, you’re my goddess.”

You smile, equal parts shy and cheeky, and you confess to him, “I want to suck you off now,” with a boldness you hardly ever have in bed.

His eyes roll to the back of his head again, his knees weaken, and he pleads, “Please.”

You push him off of you and maneuver him into the chair. He’s yanking his shirt off while you pull his trousers down. When you’re both fully naked, without ado, you immediately wrap your lips around his rock-hard cock and start bobbing your head up and down. He whimper-yells in a way he never has before, and the sound propels you faster, deeper. Remus grunts rhythmically as you swallow him down, both hands in your hair, holding on for dear life, the occasional rough tug sending pleasure rippling down to your cunt. Your hands grip his thighs, vice-like despite the slipperiness of his now sweaty body. He lets out repeated “baby”s and “fuck”s and “please”s and “yes”s with increasing desperation, punctuating each sharp fast thrust of his hips.

You feel his thighs give a particularly violent shake, and knowing what that means, you pull off of him. The look on his face is of devastation, but his head goes back in excitement when he sees what you have in mind. You’re climbing onto him. He scoots down the armchair to give you some room to straddle him and brings his hands to your hips to help you in place and give some much needed stability.

Gripping the back of the chair, your other hand grabs his throbbing cock and guides it to your entrance. Remus is staring at where you’re about to be connected like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s seen in his whole life. To him, it is. You feel him enter you, and you clench in complete pleasure. He hisses sharply at the sensation of penetration and lets out a continuous “ahh” as you sink further and further down, your grip on his shoulder bruising. When he bottoms out, you clench and give a little bounce, and you smile at his desperate reaction. He’s nodding vigorously, biting his bottom lip, staring at your tits, gripping your hips with the full force of his strong hands. One of them goes up to clench your breast as you start bouncing on him, slow and hard for several thrusts before picking up the pace when you find a stable position. It feels incredible. The control you have over the drag of his cock against your walls drives you crazy both physically and psychologically. You bring your hips up and down repeatedly until you’re a whimpering, shaking mess above him.

Completely out of breath, he asks, “Can I?” You know what he means and nod, holding on tighter as he then starts thrusting feverishly up into you, fucking you in full force from below. It’s knocking you up and down vigorously, so you bend over more to rest your forearms on the back of the armchair. With this change in position, your tits are now smacking against each other with each thrust — right in front of Remus’s face. He goes feral for it, and starts sucking on one of them, his hands not leaving their grip on you but moving down to squeeze your arse as he pushes into you over and over.

From between your tits you hear — and feel — him give a distinctive yelp, and you rub aggressively onto him with every ounce of energy you have left, giving your clit the friction it needs to push you over the edge right along with him.

“Fuck!” he yells as your walls clench impossibly tighter and milk him of the cum that’s rushing out of him. You yelp at the sensation, and the strangled sound continues through the end of both your orgasms.

Your body gives, but Remus hums contentedly at the weight of you, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you with a chuckle. You lay like this for several moments, his hand running up and down your back, the slipperiness becoming stickiness as the chilly air licks at your still wet bodies. You shiver at it, but you’re so spent and so happy, you don’t struggle off of him yet. His softening cock still buried inside of you, Remus brings your face to his to give you a gentle kiss and adoring grin.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to relax in this chair again,” you whisper in a giggle. “I’ll get flustered just looking at it.” His laugh is warm and full, and he gives you a squeeze.

You kiss him and linger, and he says, “You know, with all the stress and everything…” a kiss, “I think it’d be good for us to make this our closing time routine.”

The sound of your laughter is muffled by his next kiss.

#remus lupin #remus x reader #remus lupin smut #remus x you #remus smut #remus x y/n #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfic #marauders #marauder x reader #marauders smut

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imagine-silk · 1 year ago

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Hello! May I request fallout 4 companions (Nick especially) with Sole who shares the bare minimum of information about themselves? Not because Sole doesn’t trust them, they really enjoy theirs companions company. Perhaps they busy themselves so they don’t have to think about all the little and big things they miss. (I bet Codsworth would find pristine things that Sole would miss (like a favorite movie, vinyl, or comic?))

Sorry if its not something you’re interested in doing right now. The ask kinda came out as a ramble, I’m lacking sleep haha. Thanks again for considering my request!

》Honestly one of my favorite kinds of characters.

【Cait】 She doesn't appreciate it. Her contract was traded to some random weirdo who barely says anything. It took three days before the topic of your name came up. And two weeks to know what you were looking for, who. But in return you don't ask what she does on her own time or what she's done. It feels like you don't mind rather than you don't care and that makes her feel seen. It stays between you unsaid in her eyes.

♡If romanced she doesn't push for any information. You'll tell her if it's important. People think it's weird the two of you to not share about yourselves like normal people but you're happy, that's all that matters.

【Codsworth】 It's just like it was before. He, unlike the others, already knows you. He knows you very well. Not only did you do an intake for daily preferences but he also served you for a few years. While you're out and about you'll do something or say something that sounds like no information to others or out of context and he'll answer, "Just as I was thinking as well." While you camp with some of the other companions he does chores the way you like without needing to ask, making comment on recent events, which makes them jealous for sure. He digs up things from the house he preserved or found and fixes them up brand new before presenting it to you. Songs you liked or wanted to hear. Movies and shows and comics. Clothes pressed for you and the furniture is redone the way it used to be. He knows you and wants to keep it that way.

【Curie】 Low-key doesn't care. She has one thing on her mind and that's her own goal to better medicine. Finding things to do that is all she needs of you. When she goes to be a synth her feelings overwhelm her and you guide her through that. She's never ever asked about you. She'll tell you about what she's feeling but never thinks to ask what you feel. In her defense, is doesn't understand the nuance of social interactions. And to her credit, it works for the both of you.

♡If she's romanced she realizes she wants to know what you feel and if it's the same as her. She's mostly interested in what you feel now rather than what your opinion is in the past or isn't currently relevant.

【Danse】 Right away he doesn't care for it. A mercenary who talks very little can be dangerous. But you followed orders well and are a damn good shot. The way he asks is more like demanding. It was all for a vetting process but still rude. After the intake he didn't care about your lack of openness. Didn't matter to him personally. After BB he suddenly regrets not knowing you. He was so rude and dismissed you as another faceless soldier and you saved him, from the Brotherhood and himself. Now he wants to know you.

♡If romanced he makes effort to know you, like really know you. For a long time he refused individuality so his own sense of self is not great. But you know yourself and make no attempt to hide it. You are so sure of yourself you don't need to explain. That's one of the things he loves about you.

【Deacon】 He thinks you're like him, that you want to hide in plain sight. As much as he gives that to you he's nosy as fuck and takes every chance to learn about you, mostly from afar. It doesn't take any time at all for him to realize you'll just tell him. Most of them are one word answers. It takes him even less time after that to realize you'll comment on things from before the war especially.

♡If romanced he goes out of his way to show you stuff. Old posters and toys. If you follow my headcanon that he's pre-war, he makes old references and generally adds comments on things to bait your answers.

【Hancock】 He thinks it's pretty cool. "Oh, tall, dark, and handsome/beautiful." He does play twenty questions with you 24/7 and is very happy with your half-answers because an answer is still an answer. Plus he knows at least two other people like you. He is the one who figures out that you just don't have the time or think about talking about yourself rather than purposely keeping secrets the fastest. He knows people so he knows better.

♡If romanced he plays with it. You want a kiss? Tell him what's your favorite color. He'll get on his knees if you tell him what you like about your new home. But honestly he'll do it anyways. All he needs to know is that you want him like he wants you.

【MacCready】 He was more concerned about you putting a bullet in his head while his back was turned. Everyone in the Commonwealth was looking out for number one. So imagine his surprise when you were looking out for your number one and it wasn't you. Not only were you looking for your son but you stopped to help every person who asked for help. Your actions spoke to him in a way your words, he figured, couldn't. You didn't need to help him but you did. You didn't take the caps back. And you killed the gunners the second they turned their guns on him even when they said their beef wasn't with you. It was what you did, not what you told him.

♡If romanced he will ask things. Basic ones are like, "How was your day?" Normal questions that are the peak of domestic life. Then the more personal things. Some sound silly, "What's your favorite color?" But most build off of a quick thing you said in passing, "Wait, you've been to California? What was it like?" He trusts you'll tell him the truth.

【Nick】 As a private detective this simply won't do. He gets it at first, you just need him to find your son, it's business. However, you want him to stay with you after that. It confuses him because you made no indication you like him in the slightest way. He's the second fastest to realize you're not keeping to yourself on purpose. As one of the only ones who are pre-war he's able to get things the others can't. He'll talk about things and give his options and bait you into answering it. That was a common way to get people to talk back then when you were trying to be polite and keep up the conversation, even if the conversation stays a bit thin.

♡If he's romanced he makes fun of the fact you forget to say things about yourself. Don't get it wrong, he makes it clear you don't need to share. He's just poking fun.

【Piper】 This simply won't do. She asks as many question as they come up but she gets depressing short answers. You either give one word answers or say you're not really in the mood, on some occasions you admit you don't know, you never thought about it. It takes a long time for her to stop and that's only because the questions start getting old. And you still feel like a mystery even though you've told her everything.

♡If she's romanced she realizes how much you've told her and pushes it. What is your type? How do your lips feel? Why do you look so good? It becomes playful and light, never serious.

【Preston】 In the beginning he didn't realize he didn't know much about you. He took your help selfishly to get him and his people back on stable ground but you told him you were happy to help. So he takes time to learn about you and give you everything he could possibly help you with. In hopes you would share by yourself he gives things to you without any prompt. It doesn't really work most of the time.

♡If romanced he asks things with hearts in his eyes. He is so lovesick he takes all of your half-answers and files it away in his mind. It hardly matters at that point.

【X6】 It wasn't his mission so he didn't care. You owed him no explanation or justification. Doesn't mean he doesn't question you. He asks why you helped someone, why you stopped for a distraction. And of course you give short answers like, "They needed help." or "I wanted to." Later, after the Institute is gone, he sees how you carry yourself and tries to copy it. Obviously he can't so you help him too. You showed him he can figure himself out by himself and he didn't need you. So he held the same opinion; he doesn't need to know you like that.

♡If romanced he's still comfortable with you keeping things to yourself. It's only after months of being together do you realize he's never asked you a personal question, that you've never shared anything that personal. When you bring that to him he tells you that hardly matters. But seeing you make the effort after that gives him a feeling he can't describe. It's a good feeling he thinks.

#ask and you shall receive #fallout 4 #fallout imagines #fallout x reader #companions react #gender neutral reader #cait #curie #codsworth #danse #deacon fo4 #hancock #maccready #nick valentine #piper wright #preston garvey #x6 88

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noneorother · 1 year ago

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All the music you didn’t hear: The Good Omens soundtrack is lying to you. *Part 1*

The Bonkers Meta Series part 2: Electric Boogaloo.

I so rarely get a chance to misuse my experience in classical music, but here we are. When I realized on my most recent watch-through of the series that the David Arnold score was brilliant, but also really wonky in some parts and I couldn’t put my finger on why, @embracing-the-ineffable suggested I listen to the album soundtrack to compare.

And when I tell you what I found hidden in there, you’re going to need Eccles cakes...

1) The Song is the Clue

So right up top we have this banger. The 12th track on the album is the orchestral backdrop to the scene in the Job minisode where Aziraphale reveals Crowley’s crow/goats. The duration is 2:22 (the only track with multiples on the album), and if you look at the track by itself it doesn’t mean much. But the song just before it is actually from this fucking scene:

You know, the one where there’s a song that’s a clue to a mystery. Except Clue is capitalised, and Aziraphale pronounces it. I’ve seen guesses that this is a reference to the movie Clue, but I would put a lot of money on the fact that we are supposed to read the title of the song currently playing at that moment in the show *as a Clue*, which is super convenient, because the word Clue is capitalized in the track listing.

Seems like the overlords of Good Omens have a message for us : The song is the Clue. It’s what God wants. Cool cool cool. WHAT SONG?

2) Symmetry in all things

Before I straight up tell you, we have to go back and look at season 1.

Now I’m far from the first to notice tons of parallels between the story, details and even lines in both seasons. It got me thinking that maybe there are some fun synch-up parallels between the two season’s soundtracks, seeing as they are both 6 episodes long. Here’s the end of S1 and then S2

Oh that’s a bummer, I thought to myself.

They don’t even add up to the same number, or playtime, and neither of them is exactly 60 tracks. But do you want to hear a secret? S2 is actually missing 3 tracks on the album. And because there are 2 discs in S2 (cute), the numbers of the tracks start over again from 1. Remember how much God likes sevens? Check out where all the weirdness is happening in disc 2 (I’ve added the missing track listings in red to add context):

After checking each track with the show and listening side by side (for reasons that will become clear in another post) I can definitively say that there is something *very weird* going on at the end of episode 4.

First is track 7, Zombie dressing room, which seems to actually reach over two distinct scenes of the photo evidence in the dressing room and then Shax in hell even though it only has one title.

But *between* these two scenes we get an eerily silent wine date with Aziraphale & Crowley.

There’s really no music or even sound here besides the dialogue and room tone (until after the cheers), and it seems like a very intentionally silent version of a ritz date from season 1.

My best guess is that we are supposed to divide that track into two tracks of 7, before and after the date to get a second track 7. Or maybe the silent one is missing music? The third track number 7 is the weirdest one. It’s this scene here, when Nina parks her bike, and Aziraphale parks the car at the end of S2E4.

If you take a close listen to the music, it’s a jaunty little piece, with an oom-pah base in 3 ⁄ 4 time. The thing is, this music does not exist in any Good Omens album. Please feel free to correct me, but I’ve tried to find any part of any song that this could even be a reprise of, and I Shazammed it to be sure it wasn’t anything else. This song does not exist anywhere except in this scene. (It quickly morphs into a reprise of the original theme once Nina leaves Aziraphale). It’s an invisible song.

So we have 3 tracks at the end of S2E4: a long one, a silent one and an invisible one. Only one of which is numbered 7, but that all fit into that place in the track listing.

Which, when we add the two extras to the original total of fifty-nine we get... sixty-one! Hey wait a minute.

How are we going to get to 62?

3) The real missing track.

So the real reason we had to go back to the S1 album was because it contains the missing track that God is talking about. Let’s compare the last tracks on each album.

I’ve highlighted the mismatch between the in-show music and the album in S2, which means I had to add A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square back into the S2 album because guess what, it’s not in the S2 album. Even though it plays in the show.

You want to know how not in the album it is? Amazon had to track it in the show as a season 1 song. They had to give Tori Amos credit for her song on Good Omens in the X-ray bonus features because that’s how not in the album this song is.

So my fellow beings, if the song is the Clue, then It’s what God Wants.

And if God wants a happily ever after with Aziraphale and Crowley on their own side, then by Job, I think Neil is going to give it to her.

-----------

And there's more where that came from! Part 2 coming shortly.

#good omens meta #art director talks good omens #go season 2 #good omens 2 #go2 #good omens prime #good omens season two #go meta #good omens season 2 #go3 #good omens 2 meta #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale #anthony j crowley #good omens spoilers

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sturnsbaebackup · 1 year ago

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SHY - M. STURNIOLO (PART TWO)

i highly recommend reading part 1 first, which is linked here!

summary; after madi and nick set up their plan to make you and matt fall in love, you’re finally going over to their house to film for the first time… and the connection between you and matt only grows stronger

warnings: she/her pronouns used, mentions of gagging. purely fluff!!!

—

your car ride to the sturniolos apartment consists of nothing but a very happy madi in the passenger seat and severely shaky hands. so much that madi almost had to take your spot in the drivers seat a couple times because you haven’t been able to steer correctly.

when you arrive in the parking lot outside of their complex, you sit in the car for a minute to regain some control of your emotions. as deep breaths exit your nose, madi speaks up. “y/n, you’re going to be fine i promise. now can we go inside? i don’t want to keep them waiting any longer,” she begs. you exhale sharply, nodding your head as you grip the door handle.

before you can even realize it, you’re standing in front of their door as madi gently knocks on the door. you fully snap back into reality when you see matt’s face at the door, greeting you both with a big teethy grin. “hi guys! come on in!” he says, stepping aside for both you and madi.

their house isn’t necessarily the cleanest place you’ve ever seen, but you can tell that they put in somewhat of an effort to clean it for you guys. you smile at nick as he comes running to the door, pulling you into a tight hug. “y/n, hi! i’m so glad you came!” he smiles, making your heart swell with joy. even if you’re in shambles from your nerves, you’re still super joyous that you’ve been adapted into their lives so quickly.

“so before we start the video, we need to go to the grocery store. for some context, we’re doing a challenge where we all buy a few gross or weird foods of our choice, and line them up on the counter. we have an app that when you put a bunch of fingers on it, it randomly selects someone and whoever gets picked has to eat the next food item in the lineup,” nick explains.

“oh god, this sounds awful,” you groan, earning a laugh from a few people.

“this sounds fun y/n! lighten up,” matt teases, nudging your shoulder lightly as he does so. you blush a little and that pit from a few days ago immediately comes back.

“okay people we don’t have all the time in the world, so let’s go!” nick exclaims, pushing you and madi out the door. the five of you get into the car, driving to the closest grocery store. you all go in and make sure to separate so that you don’t spoil your items to one another. each person is supposed to buy 3 items so that the total will add up to 15 items. your items of choice are horse radish, sardines, and to be nice you decide to add unicorn pudding cups.

while you’re using the self checkout, you see chris appear in the line in your peripheral vision. you notice him trying to peak at your items, and you turn your head to him. “stop cheating chris!” you say sternly, making him roll his eyes.

“i wasn’t even looking at you y/n,” he lies, knowing damn well you both know he’s bluffing. you just chuckle to yourself and secretly place your items in your bag, making sure chris doesn’t see. eventually everyone finishes their quick shopping, and you all head back to the apartment to begin the video.

“hi guys! today we’re going to be playing disgusting food roulette, but we have a couple special guests with us! c’mere guys,” nick says, wrapping both his arms around you and madi to drag you both into frame.

“hi guys,” madi says softly with an awkward smile.

“and for those of you who don’t know who y/n is, she’s a great friend of madi’s, and one of our newest friends! her socials will be linked below, so go check out her stuff! she posts a lot on tiktok and instagram, so make sure to go follow her! you can expect to see her in a lot more videos,” nick says smiling at you. you smile back, truthfully unsure of what to say.

“yeah yeah okay we get it nick now stop kissing y/n’s ass and let’s reveal what foods we bought,” chris groans, making you flip him off.

“chris is just mad i caught him trying to look at my foods at self checkout,” you shrug. chris gasps and immediately throws his hands up in defense, “you’re just full of yourself! i was not looking at you,” he rolls his eyes playfully.

“okay chris, leave y/n alone,” matt chuckles, putting his bag of food on the counter. per usual, this sets off that feeling in your stomach once again, but not as bad as before. you’re starting to embrace the obvious feelings you have for matt, and you’re actually okay with that. once everyone reveals their items, it’s time to let the fun begin. “okay guys put your finger down on the phone screen! whoever’s finger gets the little white dot under it has to eat the food,” nick says as you all place your fingers on the phone screen.

the first couple of items on the counter aren’t very bad, but as you further along the line things start to get bad. unfortunately you get chosen to eat the horseradish. “clearly this is my karma for buying this,” you groan, hesitantly placing the spoon into the jar. you quickly shove it into your mouth and swallow, trying to forget about the fact you’re eating horseradish. the taste fills your throat and begins stinging your nostrils from the pungent smell. you start gagging a little, and everyone bursts out laughing.

“fuck oh my god! this is disgusting!” you say, leaning over onto the counter in disgust. you pray that you get the coconut water since it’s the next item, but unfortunately it goes to matt. he takes a sip and scrunches his face a little, and you groan at the gross taste in your mouth. nick and chris are arguing in the middle of the kitchen, while you and matt stand off in the corner. “do you want a sip of my coconut water?” he chuckles, and you accept it gratefully. even if it tastes nasty, you still drink a few big gulps to get the taste of your previous item out of your mouth.

eventually it gets to sriracha sauce, and you’re afraid of getting that as an item seeing as you don’t do good with spices. and of course with your luck, you do. “oh fuck me!” you groan, lifting the spoonful of it off of the counter. you take a deep breath before putting it in your mouth, groaning at the burning sensation on your tongue and lips. you have an overwhelming mix of different disgusting tastes and sensations in your mouth, making you fall to the ground out of disgust and discomfort. everyone laughs at your reaction, and matt lifts his hand out for you to take as a guide back on your feet.

thankfully along the way you get a few good items, but the next item is that stupid pepper chris bought. everyone is deathly afraid of getting it, but unfortunately matt is the one who gets chosen. “you’re joking, you’re actually fucking joking! i’ve gotten all of the worst items!” matt cries out while dragging his hands down his face.

“oh no poor matt,” madi laughs, and matt just groans. he takes a bite of the pepper, and immediately his eyes start watering. he falls to the floor and just curls into a ball while groaning in pain. you all let out a laugh, but after a few moments you guys start getting a bit concerned.

“matt are you okay?” nick asks. matt just looks up at everyone and pouts with little tears welling up in his eyes. you make a little frown at him while letting out a little chuckle. he gets to his feet and stumbles over towards you, pulling you into a hug. he isn’t necessarily thinking clearly, seeing as his mouth, throat, lips, and basically sinuses are all on fire. your eyes widen, but you hug him back gently. you let out a few chuckles, and nick hands him a glass of milk to try and subside the burning sensation in his mouth.

“i’m going to bed, goodnight everyone,” he sadly laughs, waking to his room. you all burst out laughing and end the video without matt.

“someone should go check on him, y/n can you go make sure he’s alive? we need to clean everything up,” nick asks while giving a look to madi. you roll your eyes at the two of them, “yeah sure,” you say in an annoyed tone. they’re making their plan so obvious that even chris is starting to pick up on it.

you softly knock on matt’s door and you hear a muffled voice telling you to come inside. you walk in and his room is surprisingly clean. the lights are off and he’s laying in his bed hugging a pillow, with the empty glass of milk on his bedside table. “i was tasked to come make sure you’re alive. you doing okay?” you ask.

“my mouth is on fire,” he groans and you laugh a little.

“do you want me to get you anything?”

“more milk, please,” he practically begs. you nod and take his empty cup to the kitchen. when you bring it back to him, he’s now sitting up in his bed with his phone in hand.

“fuck, thank you so much y/n,” he says before chugging the whole cup in under 5 seconds. you let out a giggle and he just smiles at you bashfully. he pats the end of his bed, signaling you to sit down on it. your heart rate begins to increase but you do as you’re told and sit down.

“y/n, i know we just met and this might seem a little quick… but i think you’re really pretty and sweet. i was wondering if you maybe wanted to grab food sometime? and i know it’s a little awkward since you just saw me crying from eating a pepper, but it’s the first time i’ve actually gotten the chance to ask you this,” he chuckles and you laugh at the end of his sentence.

“oh my gosh of course matt! i’d love to,” you blush, this time not even worried if he can see your cheeks turning pink. you both figure out a date and time, meanwhile madi chris and nick are all secretly standing outside the door listening in. you exit matt’s room and you see them not so slyly trying to pretend they weren’t listening.

“you guys suck, you know that?” you jokingly say, and they all just shrug.

“have fun at dinner with matt on saturday,” nick winks as you exit their apartment. you just roll your eyes with a smile, “yeah yeah whatever nick.”

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towriteloveontheirarms · 11 months ago

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Maths genius (Michael Gavey x Reader)

synopsis: You ask your class mate for a tutor session under the guise of desperately needing it. To his surprise he gets something much better than having to try to teach a girl maths.

warnings: flirting, smut, a bit of dry humping, p in v sex, afab reader

word count: 2.7k

taglist: @fan-goddess @hopelesswritergall

(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom/series or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

A/N: Writers block still has me tight in it´s clutches, but I´ve watched Saltburn for the first time today and I didn´t want to write on this for another week so here you have my first Michael Gavey fic.

As you walk into the otherwise quiet library the clicking of your heels fills the room. Prompting a few students to turn their heads and look. You don't think much about them as you take a book from the large shelves and spot a person from your lectures. Michael Gavey. So you decide to sit down close to him. You had always thought him to be rather cute. Even if nerdy and slightly off putting, still.

You focus back on the book in front of you. However, in a matter of minutes however your confident posture crumbles to a confused expression.

It takes another while for you to look up from the book in frustration. So you miss the way he avoids eye contact at all costs. Yet you search it out nevertheless.

"Hey, you are Michael Gavey, right?" You speak quietly as to not disturb the other students.

“Uh yeah” His tone is nothing short of standoff-ish and at the same time surprised. It is clear that he wasn’t expecting to be spoken to.

It takes you back slightly, but you continue nonetheless. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to bother you, but we are in the same class."

“Oh, we are. I don’t remember your name though.”

You offer him your name with a small smile. You understand that he hadn't had the easiest time connecting with your classmates, so you made a point to be different from them.

"Say, you are like a certified maths genius. Do you do tutoring?" You switch seats to sit right across the table from him.

A not entirely recognizable spark lights up behind the glasses as you do so.

“Uh… I don’t tutor or anything. Are you having trouble?” His tone softens ever so slightly.

"Yes. I have been falling behind ever since we started the new topic. I just don't get it. At all." You play with a strand of your hair and lean forward a bit in the hopes to make him say yes.

As soon as he identifies your flirting you can see he draws a blank. It's honestly kinda cute.

“Well, m-maybe you want to come over to my place later..." When he realizes that that could sound weird taken out of context, he quickly adds "So I can teach you.”

"That would be just great, but I thought maybe we could meet up at my dorm?”

You take one of your fingers to trace small patterns into the back of his hand. You know you are laying it on thick, it´s visible in the uncertain spark behind the nerdy glasses, lighting up his piercing blue eyes.

“Yeah, of course! Let’s do your room. What building are you in?” The way Michael nods so fast you are scared that his glasses fall off, makes you hide a giggle behind your hand.

"Gimme your hand." You grab a pen and pull his hand towards you.

When you write your room number onto the inside of his wrist, Michael´s eyes lock with yours like a deer in headlights.

“Got it. I’ll be over at 7:00. Will that work?”

"That works perfectly actually. I'll see you then." You give him a wink and strut away with what Michael believes to be a bit of a spring in your step.

“Um... yeah... see you then.”

His eyes follow your retreating form until you are out of sight, before he looks down at your note again, while you smile to yourself. There is only one more lecture separating you from your little `date´.

One lecture and one clothing change later, you are just about to freshen up your lipgloss when a faint knock can be heard from the door. Right on the time that you agreed upon. Michael looks down to his shuffling feet on the ground when you open the door to him, which gives you the advantage of seeing his full reaction to seeing your clothes. Bit by bit his blue eyes wander up over the thigh high stockings, pausing at the pleated skirt and over the oversized sweater until they come to a halt on your face. Instantly any sound of your name dies on his tongue.

“I um… I’m here for the… the math lesson.” He mumbles. It's almost comical how his face reddens as he pushes the glasses up his nose.

The reaction elicits a giggle from you. It is obvious that there will be a lot done tonight, but studying wouldn't take up the biggest part of it.

"Come on in." You take a step back to make way for his tall figure to enter your room.

He nods once as he does so. His gaze getting drawn back to you as he tries to maintain eye contact.

“You look… uh…”

"I look...?" It's kind of fun to see him struggle like this.

“H-hot. You look really hot and it’s distracting.” He quickly looks down so as to avoid your gaze again to hide the worsening of the blush. "So, where do we start?”

"At the beginning, maybe?" You smirk.

“Yeah… good point.” He sits down at the desk while you lean over him.

As he opens your book and begins to explain to you the foundations of the topic you let your breasts graze Michael's back and arm deliberately every now and again to put him off. It's not a hard task, with every brush of your sweater against his shirt, he stumbles over his words. It is palpable that no matter how hard he is trying to concentrate on the work in front of him, your body pulls his eyes away from the book again and again. At one point you even think you can see his length twitch underneath the cargo shorts. Letting this go on for as long as you can, you eventually put on a seemingly concerned and innocent face and lay a hand on his forehead as if to feel his temperature.

"My... You are so warm. Are you feeling well?"

Behind his eyes the wheels are turning in a desperate attempt to think of a clever response, but at this point it is just impossible. As soon as you placed your hand on Michael's forehead, all that comes out is “I-I… uh… I… “

"Come, sit on the bed. I think we should take a break from studying." You gently take his hands in yours to lead him over to the edge of your bed.

A lead without even thinking about it. The urge to just give himself up to you is building rapidly by the second.

“S-sorry. Uh… I mean I… “

"Shhh." You lay your finger under his chin to keep his gaze locked with yours. "Is this your first time?"

"Yes." Michael breathes out.

"Stop me if I go too far..." You murmur against his lips, closing your eyes just before you lean down more for your lips to meet in a feather light brush.

A shiver went through his previously relaxed body and his hot breath hit your lips harder as he kissed back. Your hand that currently holds him by the chin wanders upwards to cup one of Michael's cheeks. His hands begin to slide down the outside of your thigh, suddenly pulling you onto his lap. As he does so, the fabric of the skirt bunches at your waist. The action provokes your breath to falter and to press your body as close to his as possible. Instinctively your lips open further, to allow for a more intense kiss. One of Michael´s hands wanders behind your back to support you on his lap and then, finally, he moves his lips to your neck, giving it a soft bite.

"Oh, Michael." You whimper as his teeth graze your skin. Grinding your core against his lap as a reaction.

His hands wander further up under the fabric of your sweater, cold skin caressing warm skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"Don't stop kissing me, please." Your words are barely a shuddering whisper.

His mouth leaves your neck and moves down your body to kiss your chest through the thick sweater. Sucking on your nipples until there are two wet spots staining it. The bundled nerves standing hard at attention, but your sweater is in the way of what you are doing, so his hands wander from just under your ribs further up. With a tingle running down your spine you lift your arms up in aiding him to throw the piece of fabric to the side. Not caring where it lands. You are all too glad to lose it. He too doesn't waste a single second and litters your breasts with kisses and nibbles. This time though, you feel a tug at the hem of your skirt.

The sensation makes your desire for him grow incredibly high. The zipper on the side gets opened fast and in a swift motion you lift your body off his lap just long enough to kick it aside. There is no time or need for words.

"Your body is incredible." The words hit your skin between heavy breaths as his hands run over your stomach, rubbing tight circles into the soft skin before continuing to wander down to massage your thighs. Michael's lips wander further down your body as well to follow suit. His warm tongue traces down your middle from the valley between your breasts down to just about your belly button. Your reaction to his teasing came instantly in the form of a quiet moan. Which got followed by a knock at your door. Assuming it was just your friend that forgot something the other day, you don't make an effort to stop what you are currently doing. She needed to learn eventually after all, a notion which gets you an uncertain look from Michael beneath you.

But you only place a finger on your lips in a sign to be quiet.

"Shhh" You whisper to him and then thread your hands into his short hair to guide his face right in front of your exposed chest. Something he willingly allows, attaching his lips to nibble at your bosom. Littering it with bite marks and hickeys, tracing every little curve of it. The ministrations get you to completely forget about the knock on the door just a second ago and also the one rule you set after it. Yet at his needy nibbles and licks you can't help being unable to hold back the squeal of enjoyment that sounds through the room.

In a hurry Michael moves his mouth away from your chest and covers your mouth with one of his hands.

“Shhhhh... Your friend will hear us.” His palm lays snug against your face, so as not to let any sounds through. Something that you allow until you get a better idea. Unbothered if the two of you can be heard any longer, you warp your lips around Michael´s long, slender fingers to swirl your tongue around them teasingly.

A shock of warmth goes through his body, making itself noticeable by the way his face burned. When you feel like he had been teased enough, you let his hand free with a wet `pop´

Immediately they get replaced by his lips once more as they catch yours in a searing kiss, at which you let out a most sinful sounding moan.

“Fuck…” Both of you curse under your breaths simultaneously.

By now he has done a great job at making you desperate for more and so your trembling fingers move down to work at the buttons of his shirt. It takes a while, but eventually and with a bit of teamwork, you are able to throw it to the ground as well. Just then Michael leans all the way back until his back lays flat against the mattress. The new position makes it easier for you to grind against him, a chance you use immediately by running your barely covered cunt over the tent in the blond's pants.

"I need more..." A tiny whimper passes Michael's lips. "Need to be inside of you."

At his words your hands stop caressing his body and come down to fumble open the button of his pants. Though you don't entirely grant him his wish yet. The moment is too good to not stretch out. His pants and underwear get pulled down barely as far as they need to, before you grind on his dick again. As you do so, his member twitches up to tease your covered clit, which makes your head fall back and mouth open to make way for steadily heavier growing breaths.

When you lean forward to lock your swollen lips with his again however you move your hips a bit too far. So as you move them backwards again you only have a short moment to process the fact that his cock had slipped past the lace panties and entered your fluttering, wet heat.

“You´re so tight.” Michael can´t fight off or quieten the loud moan any longer, but the complete lack of stimulation after what you had done previously began to get to you.

“Shit. Michael I really need you to move or else I´m going crazy.” Though it wasn´t an ask from your side it also wasn´t a command, yet the blond followed it instantly. His hands gripped your hips tightly and set a slow rhythm by guiding your movements to meet his thrusts.

Both of your moans, groans, whines and whimpers fill the room along with the wet slapping of skin against skin.

”Feels so good, Michael. Feel so good inside of me.” You lean back and prop yourself up on his thighs, allowing you to fasten the movements of your hips.

“I´m not going to last much longer. You´re so wet and perfect.” He mumbles as the flush on his cheeks darkened and spreading over his face until it reached the tips of his ears.

His cock twitches inside of you as if to underline that statement. So you lead one of his hands away from your hips to your throbbing clit. Picking up on your actions Michael's thumb rubs small, tight circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves. Reveling in the way your walls flutter even further around his length, bringing him closer to the edge as your noises become even more urgent and high pitched.

“Come for me.” You say when you feel yourself get close as well. It is a whisper at first, but with a little concentration from that hazy brain of yours, you are able to repeat it a little louder. “Come for me, now.”

The blond´s eyes roll back into his head, one last whimper leaves his lips and then the feeling of warm ropes of cum filling your core floods your body. His hips stutter in their movements, but yours are from done. Continuously and relentlessly they drive you up and down on his cock. Soon after Michael you get overwhelmed by the waves of pleasure, forcing you to sit back in his lap as your legs and hips shake from the climax. Swaying back and forth on top of him for a while, before you are able to catch your breath and think straight again.

“Shit…” You hear Michael whisper beneath you.

Looking down at him, you can´t conceal a giggle at how entirely fucked out he looks. His hair is mussed and his glasses sit slightly crooked on that sharp nose. It´s almost comical.

The two of you take some more time to come back to reality and get dressed again.

“I better be going now.” Michael croaks, lingering close to you for a second. Uncertain if he should say what he was thinking. “But um… If you would like to have another study session some time… I wouldn´t be opposed to that.”

“I wouldn´t be opposed to it at all either.” Followed your flirty response.

It surprises him visibly, though he manages to sort himself out rather quickly.

“Do you mean that?” He inquires.

“I surely do. Give me your number and I´ll call you.” It is more of a suggestion, but he gives you his number so fast you almost have trouble catching it the first time. Snapping your phone shut after saving it, you turn to look back at Michael.

“I can´t wait to see you again.” You wink and give a small, alluring wave.

#michael gavey #michael gavey x reader #michael gavey x you #ewan mitchell #ewan nation #michael gavey fic #michael gavey fanfic #saltburn #saltburn fic #saltburn fanfiction

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farfromstrange · 2 years ago

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Tupperware | Matt Murdock x Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: A conversation about kitchen supplies leads to something more...

Warnings: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI, oral m!receiving, unprotected p in v (wrap it b4 you tap it), multiple orgasms, aftercare

Word Count: 6.7k (This is a literal Smut Beast)

A/n: Yeah, whatever you think the title means in context, I guarantee you, this is different. But also, maybe not. I found this in my drafts because it was originally planned as an FG One Shot, but I decided to just throw my plans off the board and turn it into a reader insert (I've written this a while back, but I reread and edited it). Funny story: I found this writing prompt and it reminded me of the accent I have and how I say Tupperware (and how everyone in my State says Tupperware, the German version ofc), and I found it funny because that is definitely something I did when I said it in English for the first time. Anyway, enjoy!

The couple sat on his couch, the lights of the Billboard growing more distinctive as the sun started to set. He was working on the paperwork that had piled up over the days while she was reading something on her laptop. The steady typing of her fingers synchronized with her steady breathing. He didn’t mind the sound of her working. He enjoyed the carelessness of it all. Just two people seeking the comfort of each other’s presence while doing two completely different things. It wasn’t weird, it was productive.

At some point, he reached for her leg that was poking his side and placed it in his lap. She smiled at the casual, domestic action. His fingers stroked her calves absentmindedly while his mind continued to occupy itself with the information on the case that reached in through his headphones.

He heard her laugh at something. He smiled as he asked, “What?”

“I was looking for some accessories for our kitchen,“ – his heart bloomed at the pronoun, – “And now Google is trying to sell me Tubberware,” she stated. “I don’t even use Tubberware anymore.”

The headphone fell from his ear.

“What are you saying?” Matt asked.

His lip twitched, more in disbelief than amusement, but it was also weirdly adorable, the way the ‘b’s’ rolled from her tongue.

“Say it again,” he told her.

Her eyebrows crinkled. “Tubberware,” she said, remaining serious and clueless throughout.

“Say it again. Slow.”

“Tubberware.”

“Slow, very slow– actually, say the first syllable.”

Her frown deepened. “Tub,” she said confidently.

Matt bit his cheek. “Wrong.”

“What do you mean, wrong?”

“I thought I caught that. You’re saying tub. It’s P.”

He had to keep telling himself not to laugh, but it was so incredibly hard with the pout on her lips growing by the second.

She removed her leg from his lap and sat upright, laptop moving dangerously close to the edge of her thighs. “What are you talking about?” she asked.

“Tupperware,” he stated. “Tupper.”

Blood rushed to her cheeks. “It’s Tupperware?!”

He couldn’t hold it any longer. The laugh rolled off his lips like a serenading song. “It’s Tupperware, always has been, always will be,” he choked out.

The pout came back, stronger than before. A frustrated pout. This was entirely different from the confused and irritated one. “I thought it was tubberware because it kind of looks like a tub,” she muttered.

“Oh, baby,” he laughed.

“It looks like a tub,” she said.

“I know it does. I’m sorry.”

“Stop laughing at me, you dick!”

“I’m really sorry, sweetheart. It’s just… say it again. Please. For me.”

“So that you can make more fun of me?” she asked. “No thank you.”

“I’m not making fun of you, I promise. It just sounds so cute when you say it. Do it for me, please. I want to hear it again.”

She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of laughing too. She was supposed to be mad at him, but she somehow couldn’t because looking at it from this angle, she realized how stupid it was. Tubberware. It was hilarious, even.

“Tubberware,” she said again, trying to breathe through the fit of laughter bubbling in her throat.

Matt laughed. “Again,” he begged.

“Tubberware.”

“It’s so cute, I can’t-“ his voice cracked.

“I hate you!”

“I know you want to laugh,” he titled his head knowingly, “so laugh.”

“No,” she said.

“Please."

“Don’t tell me what to do,” but at this point, she was already laughing. The sound he loved so much grew louder by the second.

Her stomach hurt. His did, too.

“I’ve been saying it for years,” she said between breaths. “And no one’s ever told me. Oh, God!”

“I’m sorry,” said Matt. “I didn’t mean to… Tubberware.” He giggled. “It’s adorable.”

“Shut up!"

"I'm sorry, I'll stop." He wiped some more of his laughing tears.

Grateful for his attempt to compose himself, she nodded. "Okay,” she turned back toward her laptop, “While we’re already on the issue, do we need anything else?"

He threw his head back, thinking. “We could use some new spatulas,” he said. "And lunchboxes. Tupperware has some great choices, you should take a look."

Her laugh died into a smile. “You know I love you, right?”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

“What I’m saying is, we’re not getting Tubberware.”

“Why not?” He cocked an eyebrow. “They’ve got great kitchen stuff and it’s easy to use. You know, for me as a blind man…”

“Matt Murdock, are you one of those Tubberware grandmas?” It was her turn to laugh.

He pouted. “Shut up.”

“Oh no, we need to talk about this.”

“No, I’ve got work to do. You should buy what I just said. We definitely need that.”

“Alright, let me see what Amazon has," she said.

“No, we'll get it from Tupperware," he retorted. "I've been using nothing else for years."

“That's not my problem. There are cheaper options. Amazon, same-day delivery. Why do we have Prime if we don't use it? And don't say because of the Podcasts, we have Spotify, which is ten times better."

“Tupperware has better quality.”

“I'm buying the spatula and the lunchboxes from Amazon, end of discussion.”

There was a playful smile on his lips, already telling her what he was about to say next was merely a joke. “You’re not the man of the house,” Matt argued. “As the man of the house, I dictate where we buy our kitchen supplies.”

She gasped, her mouth hanging wide open as she processed his words. Even though it was a joke, she couldn't help but feel slightly offended at even the prospect. Shaking her head, she cocked her eyebrows at him and said, “And as the woman you depend on to suck your dick, I strongly suggest you think about what you just said.”

He bit his cheek. “Oh, so we’re going there?”

She smirked. “I thought you could handle it, tough guy.”

“Okay, that’s it!” He tossed the case file aside, tore the laptop from her hands, and pulled her into his lap in one swift motion.

Matt was always the first to suggest a gentle game of teasing, but he barely had any tolerance for it. He was always the first to get riled up, no matter what. Perhaps she should have thought twice about her words, but it was so much more fun to see him like this than give in too soon.

He rolled her hips down into his, his fingers sure to leave bruises as he guided her along his slacks. The moan she let out was guttural.

Matt bit down on her earlobe. “Mouth off on me again and this is all you’re gonna get for the next week,” he said.

Her thighs fluttered around his own. The heartbeat between her legs bounced off his muscles. The room suddenly grew too hot to breathe the toxic air in.

“On second thought,” she began, though when Matt’s lips wandered from her ear to her neck and down to her cleavage, the words got caught in her throat.

He ran his hands under her shirt. Her skin was hot. The rough callouses of his fingers pulled the fabric aside until it slipped off her shoulders.

“No bra,” he smirked. “Nice.”

She whined. “I really need to buy kitchen supplies now, Matt,” she tried again.

He sucked one of her nipples into his hot mouth. If they were hard due to the cold air in the apartment or because his touch sent her into overdrive she wasn’t sure, but once he was on her all she could think about was his stupid mouth on her tits.

Her nipple slipped off his tongue with a pornographic plop. “I want you to do as I say,” he said.

“You can't use your bedroom voice when we're talking about the apartment. Oh, fuck!”

He slapped his hand flat on her ass.

“You were saying?”

She wanted to wipe that shit-eating grin off his perfectly wet lips.

“Stop teasing me.”

Matt leaned back from the mess he made on her chest, eyelids fluttering innocently, hands rested on her hips again. “You said you needed to buy kitchen supplies,” he said.

And he was instantly back in his teasing mood, believing he finally got the upper hand.

“I lied,” she said.

“No, you didn’t. You really need to buy kitchen supplies.”

She huffed. “Fine, guess I’ll do it myself.”

He wanted to laugh.

Her shorts accompanied her shirt on the floor. Half naked, she plopped down next to him on the couch again.

Matt choked on nothing at all, her scent thick in the air. When her thighs moved, the sound it made was wet, hot, and sticky. He loved that sound. He loved it most when it was as close to his ears as possible, squished between those perfect thighs that made the sound unbearable.

She threw her head back, throat exposed. She sighed. Her fingers ran over her body, barely touching, only testing the waters. All hairs on her body stood at full attention, the ache between her thighs thudding so hard to the point where she could hear nothing but blood in her ears. Her heart sped up, half because of embarrassment, the other half because of excitement. She wasn’t sure what was stronger. They’d never done anything like this before and she doubted he’d even let her. Up until this point he hadn’t done anything but listen closely though, fists clenched around the soft fabric of his slacks close to his crotch.

Her fingers ghosted over the waistband of her panties. Black silk. He liked the feeling of lace on her, but after some time it began to tickle and he hated the way it itched at his skin, so she barely wore lace anymore. He had his hands on her at all times, she had to adapt.

Matt’s hand shot out instantly. Her fingers barely breached her panties and he already had enough. “Don’t you dare,” he said.

“Why?” she challenged. Her voice was nothing but a series of breaths.

“Because it’s mine.”

“If you won’t touch me-“

He shoved his fingers down her underwear.

“Fuck!” Her head fell even further down the armrest.

“You were saying?”

“I’m sorry. Keep going.”

“Why?” his thumb stopped over her clit. “Why should I give you anything?”

“Because I will buy or- or do anything you want from now on, I promise!”

“Watch your tone, sweetheart,” he bellowed.

“Please,” she squirmed, searching for any kind of friction. His hand kept her hips restrained without even trying, any move grazing her just enough to make her body jolt, but not nearly enough to be pleasurable.

“Hm,” he hummed.

“Please?”

“Okay,” and he pressed his thumb down so hard, she swore she saw stars dance around her clouded vision.

She moaned just the way he liked it. “Fuck.”

“Will you keep quiet?” Matt resumed his work. Even though his pants were painfully tight, he acted like nothing had happened. “I need to finish this paperwork,” he told her. “I won’t ignore my responsibilities just because someone decided to be a needy whore today. So if you want to cum, you better stay quiet so I can concentrate.”

His thumb worked its way up and down her clit, circled, and drew patterns she’d never seen before. She bit into her bottom lip until it drew blood.

He knew her body better than anyone else, better than herself even. He knew what she liked, what made her squirm, what she didn’t like, and what could make her body shake instantly.

Her body was an altar. He had every last inch mapped out to perfection. Her skin was soft like a sunny day in spring and it smelled salty like the sea, sweet like the field of flowers in Central Park, and distinctive like summer rain. Every time he touched her, he was on fire. The temperature in her body changed with every flick of his fingers. Every hitch of her breath he caught onto. She didn’t even have to tell him to keep going, he simply knew.

Matt worshipped her body like he would kneel on the bench at church. She was a row of burning candles before the cross and he knelt before her like a pathetic disciple willing to do anything to please the divine being.

Her stifled moans through the palm of her hand drove him crazy. Usually, he was a lot more composed than that, but it was late, he was overworked and he was horny, and he couldn’t concentrate with the wetness of her arousal lying thick in the air. He licked his lips to taste it. He tasted the air like a starved man.

Matt growled. “Fuck this,” he said.

She protested silently when he retreated his thumb. She sat up against the armrest, staring at him. His hair stood in all directions from the hand he ran through it, his lips plump, seeking friction.

“Come here.” He grabbed her hips and placed her back on his lap, legs on either side of his thigh. “I need you close to me,” he breathed into her mouth as they met halfway. “Ride my thigh.”

She swallowed. “What?”

“Ride my thigh. Be a good girl and ride my thigh. You want to make yourself cum, hm? I’m giving you an opportunity here, unless, of course, you’re too pathetic to do it yourself. Do you need me to help you, hm?”

She swallowed again. “Please,” she said.

His hands gently began to roll her hips against him. “Like that?” he asked.

The moan she let out was answer enough.

“Feel good?”

She bit into her lip, nodding wildly.

“Use your words,” he said. “Don’t hold back.”

Her head fell on his shoulder, hand seeking something to hold onto behind him at the back of the couch.

The silence earned her another hard slap on her ass.

“Answer me.”

She sighed. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Feels good. Keep going, please.”

Matt smirked. “Good girl.”

The leather was dented under her fingers. She held onto the couch for dear life. His hands guided her hips deliciously over his thigh, the fabric of his slacks mixed with the silk of her underwear sliding against her sensitive clit over and over again driving her closer and closer to the end.

She saw the light at the end of the tunnel. Her eyes rolled back. The pressure in her lower abdomen began to build slowly but steadily. She involuntarily sped up, sloppily fighting against the slow pace he’d set. He would’ve stopped her if he hadn’t been so riled up already, so he let her. He let her chase for the sweet relief the knot in her stomach prepared her for.

“Matt,” she whined his name.

One of his hands began to stroke her back. “I know,” he said. “I know, baby.”

Her thighs twitched around his, her entire body shaking underneath his touch. It was all too much. His rough hands on her hot skin, his fingers digging in sure to leave bruises, and the gentle coax of his hand on her back, stroking innocently to help her through it. His touch was too much to bear.

Matt instantly reached out when she threw her head back. The moan sounded delicious in his ears. He caught her head with his hand around the back of her neck, making sure she wouldn’t fall over and hurt herself. She clenched around nothing, thighs threatening to close but his own kept them open.

A tear slipped down her cheek. She wasn’t crying, not at all. The tear came from a place of pure pleasure. Her body couldn’t handle it. The sensations he put her through left her speechless every time he touched her. She couldn’t breathe. Her throat was dry.

His thumb drew circles on the back of her neck. He brought her back to earth after it just shattered before her very eyes.

“Fuck,” she choked out.

Matt guided her back into his chest and she took the support gladly. His heart beat against her bare breasts. The bulge in his pants became painfully clear once she regained feeling in her limbs. It brushed her thighs where it lay between his own.

“You okay?” he asked.

She nodded, playing with the hairs on the nape of his neck.

“That was…” she couldn’t find the right words.

“I know.”

She didn’t quite trust her legs when she twisted to swing the one between his thighs over the other one. She kept her hands on his shoulders to straddle him without falling over.

Matt tilted his head, eyes searching for hers. “What’re you doing?” he asked hoarsely.

“Looks like you need some help,” she stated. She played with his belt buckle.

“It’s fine. You know I don’t need anything in return for making you feel good.”

“I know, but I want to. That looks painful.”

In one swift motion, she pulled the belt out of his slacks and tossed it aside.

Matt chuckled at her eagerness. “You are insatiable, you know that?” he dove in to kiss whatever bare skin he could reach.

His lips sloppily kissed down her neck and up again, chasing her lips. She kissed him back as hard as she could. Their teeth clashed, tongues fighting each other for dominance, knowing he’d win anyway. He swallowed every breath she took, sucking her dry and breathing new life back into her mouth.

She opened the button on his pants, trying hard to pull it down enough to get his aching cock out of them.

He caught onto her plan. Shifting his hips, she managed to reach into his boxers.

“Wait,” he said.

“What?” she blinked at him.

Matt reached for the hem of her panties. His fingers flexed.

Rip.

She gasped. The silk fell to the floor in nothing but flaps of fabric.

“I’ll buy you new ones.” He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth.

“Fine.” In response, the buttons of his dress shirt flew in all directions. She ran her hands down his chest, satisfied with the ripped front of the shirt hanging loosely off his shoulders.

He chuckled. “That’s fair.”

She kissed down every exposed sliver of skin on his torso. Her tongue ran over the jagged scars, the freshly healed bruises from a couple of nights ago. He was beautiful. With the billboard casting a pornographic red light on them, eyes closed, he looked like the child of an angel and a demon. His entire existence was ephemeral, his body a wonderland.

She sucked one of his perky nipples into her mouth. He arched almost entirely off the couch.

“I love you,” she breathed against him.

She liked the way the words sounded. For someone so afraid of admitting her feelings not so long ago, she’d come quite far. It had become her new favorite thing to say. Though the true weight of the statement came in the moments they were intimate. She could chant the same three words to him all day, but the second they were close to each other, touching where only they could touch, those three words regained their true meaning. It was sweet, almost innocent. The kind of love everyone wished for. An endless spiral of butterflies danced around in their stomachs.

Matt chuckled. The very same sound turned into a moan once her teeth dug into the flesh around his nipples.

“I’m worshipping you now,” she told him. Her kisses traveled down his body.

Her warmth on his chest disappeared. Instead, the hot trail of kissed lead to the opened button of his slacks. Her tongue played with his belly button, the happy trail leading into Neverland.

She kissed each scar on either side. “Perfect,” she hummed. “I don’t deserve you and yet you’re mine. This is mine. Only mine. No one else’s.”

“I’m yours.”

“Mine,” she kissed the lower part of his stomach. “Mine,” her lips landed on the hem of his boxers. “Mine,” it was an animalistic growl. She pulled down his underwear swiftly.

Matt didn’t have time to comprehend what was happening. He was so in awe of the way she touched and spoke of his body, he listened to her for the sake of having her praise him over and over again. The words carried innocence in their sinful ways.

He choked on air. His scars long forgotten, her mouth opened around its original destination.

“Lord have mercy!” he grabbed a fistful of hair.

Her tongue licked a thick stripe down his shaft.

Matt was a religious man. He prayed regularly and went to church and Sunday Mass. He swore never to take God anywhere other than he needed to be, but that woman and her cursed mouth made him see God in the fiery land of his unseeing vision. What they were doing was outright sinful. He knew he’d go to hell for saying the lord’s name in vain. He’d go to hell for everything he’d ever done and yet, while that was the truth, he didn’t care because, at that moment, he was living. He was alive. He’d gotten used to the thought of going to hell, seeking penance almost every day since. With her though, something had awakened inside of him. He couldn’t let it go. The Devil inside of him wanted to play.

Her mouth danced perfectly to the gospel of his moans, he forgot who he was. He tried hard not to push her head further down his cock, although the warmth of her throat sent him into pleasurable overdrive.

The cold air hit the head, falling from her lips like a wet towel. “It’s okay,” she said. “Take what you need.”

It was all the confirmation he needed.

His hips bucked up into her throat. She had laid off the gag reflex the first time she had his cock in her mouth, knowing the act alone could turn her on for more than one day. She could cum from simply touching him, hearing the dirty sounds slip past his swollen lips, and she’d be more than okay with it. The sounds he made were heaven’s gift to her, she was sure.

His cock twitched against her throat. She braced herself, eyes already closed.

“Stop,” he choked out.

She instantly sat back on her heels, naked and worked up.

“Did I do something wrong?” she asked.

“No, not at all. I just… I need you.”

His chest heaved with the denied orgasm. The one he had denied himself. Anticipation rutted through his veins.

She swallowed the precum mixed with spit inside her hollowed-out mouth. The skin tingled. “You want me to-“ she pointed to his lap.

Matt sensed the motion. “If you want to,” he said. “But you can lay back and let me do all the work if that’s what you want. Just tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

Her thighs trapped his. She’d never been so comfortable doing that before. She was completely naked on top of him while he sat there, half-dressed, eyes searching for what he couldn’t see. Blood rushed to her cheeks. The position was compromising.

He pulled the hair from her face. “Are you sure about this?” he asked.

“Yes,” she nodded. “I don’t know what I’m doing but yeah, I’m sure.”

“You don’t have to. I’ve got you.” He pressed his lips to her collarbone. “Mine,” he licked a stripe up her pulse point. “Mine,” the spank landed right on her ass. The next touch of his fingers made her shudder. Her cheeks flooded red with blood. “And mine,” he parted his fingers between her thighs to spread the lips of her pussy wide open.

Part of her wanted to scramble away. He couldn’t see but he could feel everything. It was just about the same as having him watch every inch of her body closely. Every last crevice he wanted to memorize. She wasn’t sure what to think. Her brain refused to function. She was entirely bare to him.

“Matt,” she said his name.

“You’re beautiful. Nothing to be ashamed of.” He kissed her again. Passionate, loving. “Remember our safe word?”

“Hmm.”

“Tell me.”

“Red.”

He flicked the switch. “Okay, good girl,” the dark sound of his voice made all the embarrassment vanish. Instead, heat shot through her core. “Good girl, having your good little cunt spread for me. Just want to look at you the way I can. Want to see what’s mine. Want to feel how wet you are from riding my thigh. Oh, look at you!” he smirked. “This is turning you on, isn’t it? Your heart’s going crazy and you’re literally dripping. You’re making such a mess on my good pants. You want to make a mess on my cock now too, don’t you? You want to be my good little slut and ride my cock?”

She only whined.

His hand slapped across her ass harder this time. The collision stung. “Use your words,” he demanded. “Use your words or I’m leaving you like this.”

“I’m sorry,” her voice came out sobbing. “I’m sorry. I want you inside of me. I want to be your good girl, I promise.”

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Yes, please! Please fuck me, Matthew. I’ll do anything. Please!”

“Don’t cry.” He wiped her cheeks. “I know I’m good, but no need to cry. You’ll get what you want. Want to make you feel good, hm. You deserve it for always being so patient.”

“Yes, I’ve been patient. I’ve been good. So good.”

He laughed. “You’re already so dumb for me, baby. You sure you can take this?”

“Yes!”

“What’s your color?” The always caring Matt Murdock peaked out from under the dark, sex-crazed facade only she got to see.

She shuddered. “I-“ words came harder than they should have.

His head titled. Worry spread across his face, ready to take back whatever he said.

“Green,” she eventually managed to say.

She only wanted the ache between her thighs to be numbed. She wanted him so incredibly deep inside of her, she could feel him bulge her stomach, everywhere he could be inside of her.

Matt smirked, and it only grew darker from there.

“Good girl,” he praised again.

She slapped her hand on her mouth. He bottomed out quickly, without warning. He penetrated her without thinking twice about it, burying himself so deep inside of her, he could feel her walls contracting around him with every inch. She sucked him in and she screamed. She was sure she screamed. Her hand was the only thing keeping the neighbors from knocking on their door. His name slipped from her lips like a prayer, like she was singing his name in church and the word echoed off the walls for everyone to hear. Except no one was supposed to hear this. It was just them. This was their safe space. They could be however they wanted to be like this, and only then they could touch each other so sweetly when the world wasn’t watching them and they didn’t have to worry about anything other than themselves.

The sound was new, even for Matt. He too was sure he let out the nastiest sound known to man, but unlike her, he had no intention of masking it. He bottomed out and he chose to stay like this for just a little while longer, waiting for her muscles to relax, waiting for her to enjoy this.

The impatient roll of her hips eased his worries.

“Okay?” he asked quietly.

She breathed through her nose, “Okay.”

“Then ride me.”

And she did.

She started with a slow pace, taking her time to adjust to his size. Every inch of her felt perfectly filled out. He managed to reach parts of her she never could’ve found on her own. He had this way with her body, it was like a high that never ended, the endless train on the river of sugar rush.

Her eyes trailed up his body. Head tilted back, his eyes fluttered with every thrust of her hips. One arm flexed with the pressure he applied to the leather seat, the other was placed softly against the flesh of her hips. He made sure she knew he was there if she needed him to take control, though, at the same time, the move seemed almost domineering, leaving her no choice but to do as he wanted. She was completely at his mercy. Even the slightest touch made her cave. He knew it and she knew it.

If he’d told her to drive to hell with him, she would have.

The slow and steady pace felt like heaven to him. Her hips drew patterns to chase that spot so very deep inside of her, only he could reach it. The swirl was delicious around his cock, the hot, soft flesh of her insides rolling against him, up and down and up and down. He listened to her heartbeat, strangled breathing, and the goosebumps on her skin. Moan after moan escaped her lips, growing louder and louder until she couldn’t hold it anymore. He filtered out every hint of discomfort or frustration. What she liked, what she continued doing, and what just didn’t seem to work. She explored herself without even realizing and it turned him on even more. He could’ve sworn he felt himself getting harder inside of her if that was humanly possible.

His ears only picked up on rushing blood and labored breaths. There was nothing else but the feeling of her body, the scent of sweat, and bittersweet arousal on his lips and tongue. He was entirely enveloped in her. Everything was about her. Her body, her wetness, her heart. The heart between her legs, loud and dominant.

She whimpered at the sight before her. Matt Murdock in all his glory, half naked with his shirt ripped at her fingers, fabric, and skin clutched between her nails. Sweat coated his forehead, mouth slightly agape. His lashes fluttered around his unseeing eyes. She didn’t even have to move. If she wanted to, the sight would’ve been enough to make her come undone in a matter of seconds. He was so comfortable in her presence, his shoulders slouched in absolute relaxation as her movement urged him closer to his own release.

The next time her hips rolled down into his, he met her movements. His hips jerked up with a purpose. That purpose lay deep inside of her and he knew where it was. The thrust from underneath made her cry out. The spongy spot inside of her danced with euphoria as the head of his cock brushed against it.

He chuckled breathlessly. “There it is,” his head stayed hung over the back of the couch.

She braced herself. The new wave of pleasure only spurred her on. The way he dove impossibly deeper into her with every brush against that sweet spot had him reeling, gripping the leather for any kind of support. She followed close behind, her hips beginning to move as if her life depended on it. With every thrust, she sped up. Although her legs slowly grew tired, all she could feel was the tingling knot deep in her stomach blossoming into a beautiful flower and waiting to blow.

The hand that had once laid around her waist landed around her throat instead. The leather wasn’t nearly enough to keep him composed if that was even possible.

Hell’s Kitchen always haunted him. Noise and smell followed him home, and the sound of innocent people getting hurt kept him from falling asleep most of the time. He couldn’t tune it out. The city was a part of him. Even asleep, he dreamed of all the bad that was out there and all the things he’d done in his life, the things that lead him there, the people he’d hurt. The city never slept and neither did he, not really.

Though with her, for the first time, he was able to breathe. She overwhelmed his senses to the point it almost became unbearable. Her touch singed his skin yet calmed his mind down to the point he could tune out everything else and just focus entirely on the woman atop him. Sight was overrated. He didn’t need to see to know the way she moved was graceful in itself. Everything she did, she did with passion. The rolls of her hips were angelic. With her head thrown back, sweat and tear all over her face, she was the most beautiful person he’d ever come across. He could feel every inch of her, smell her, taste her. The whole wide city disappeared in the wake of her existence.

She was his salvation. He was drowning.

“Matt,” she sighed. His name rolled sweetly over her lips like she was singing him to sleep.

He squeezed his fingers around her pulse point. The pressure caged her in, sending moons across the stars in her galaxy. She reached for his wrist, not sure if she wanted to keep him or push him away. The tingling traveled from her stomach into every last crevice of her being.

He twitched inside of her. His muscles tensed. She rolled against him again, chest to chest. Hard nipples brushed against each other.

She dove in for a taste. Sweat had nestled into his stubble. Air was overrated. She kissed him until her lungs had nothing left to give. Until there was no other way but to swim back to shore to take a deep breath.

They’d fucked before. They had sex before. They’d done a lot of things. Whatever this was though, it counted as neither. Time was of the essence. Not too little, not too much. Just the right amount of time, simply savoring each other, getting to know each other as much as humanly possible in the most intimate sense. Subconsciously, they’d both been carrying way too much pressure. It showed in the way they craved each other. Starving animals in the middle of the desert preying for sustenance.

She scratched her nails through the hairs on his chin, leaving red marks down his throat. He groaned ever so softly into the depths of her mouth.

“I love you,” she said. His name came in serial moans. She breathed hard, heavy. Lost all sense of space and time, as if she couldn’t even believe it herself.

Matt tasted the salt on his tongue, wet strains of tears carried from her drenched cheeks to his. She was crying, whining, begging, and as lovely as it was to hold her like this, the words were the last straw to destroy his composure completely.

“I love you.”

He flipped her over like she was a doll, easily handled, thighs opened to grant him the space he needed to get between them. All the while his hand remained on its throne around her throat.

She moaned. The red lights of the billboard shone at him from behind, fading into hues of purple and blue with each thrust. His hips brushed against her clit every time he dove forward, hard and relentless, deeper and deeper. She couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe. The lights became a distant memory. Nothing mattered but the hot pressure inside her lower abdomen, his weight on her, the twitch of his cock against the spot inside of her at the same time he brushed the spot outside of her and all eventually just became too much.

“Sweetheart, look at me,” he demanded. “Look at me!”

She forced her eyes open. He loved it when she looked at him, vulnerable, exposed. And though she tried hard to obey, his pace made it almost impossible to keep her eyes open long enough. Not much longer and the only was about to snap.

“Who do you belong to? Who’s making you feel good?”

“You,” she gave him the answer he wanted. “Always you.”

“That’s right, sweetheart. Me, only me. You’re-“ he thrust his hips forward, “Mine. Mine.” he dug his teeth into her shoulder.

She sobbed. It was too much. Too good, too much. Her entire body was on fire.

“Matt, please.”

Waiting for permission, anything.

Fingers intertwined above her head on the armrest. She clawed onto him. His hand traveled down between their bodies, catching her clit just right between his fingers. Just a little more. Circles and triangles and more circles.

“All of this is mine, understood?” his face buried in the valve of her breasts. “I’m so in love with you,” he said. “So fucking in love with you.”

The Billboard outside exploded in fits of color. The coil snapped. She gave up the little control she had left, clinging onto him, shocks of pleasure wreaking havoc. Her pussy clenched around him. It was tight, so tight, and she kept him there until she could milk all he had to give her.

Matt stiffened. His mouth stayed open in a silent moan. Sound only came back to him once he came, hard. All the pressure from the week before unloaded and he fell on top of her, moaning, panting. His body vibrated with the aftershocks. The heat inside of her walls sucked him in until every last drop was spent, dripping along his softening shaft, out of her.

The world stood still.

“I love you,” the admission blew hot against her sternum. Her hands raked through his hair, holding him.

She sighed blissfully. “I know.”

“I love you.”

“I know.”

Matt was a sensitive person after sex. During, he took control. He hardly left her any time to breathe or think. After though, the world came crashing back in, his senses so overwhelmed by everything, he just needed someone to ground him. His mind wasn’t back yet, ears rushing with blood and every nerve in his body straining. The only thing keeping him sane was the beating of her heart against his ear.

Not sure if she could trust her legs just yet, she gently rolled them over. “Come on,” she whispered. “I’ll clean us up.”

He lay there, eyes directed at the ceiling. Her warmth disappeared only to be replaced by a lukewarm washcloth on his stomach.

She helped him out of his pants. The cold air of the apartment eased the burning.

He had regained most of his consciousness by the time she laid back on top of him. The sofa wasn’t spacious and for the first time, he was glad there was no space for her to move anywhere but his bare chest. The skin-to-skin contact made the sudden awareness less unbearable. He needed to focus on the feeling of her. He needed to remember what it felt like to breathe.

She traced patterns on his skin. Eventually, she asked, “You okay?”

“Thank you,” he said.

“You know, I love you too. More than anything.”

“I know.”

“I’m in love with you,” she looked up at him. “I don’t just love you, I’m in it. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He couldn’t help it. “Oh,” the tears flowed freely.

“Hey-“

Matt choked out a laugh. “You’re the best damn thing that’s ever happened to me,” he said. "And I don't even know why I'm crying because I'm not sad, I'm happy."

Her eyes softened. She touched his cheek gently. He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch, kissing her palm, down to her wrist, and back up.

“I was thinking,” she broke the silence.

“Dangerous,” he muttered.

“Hey!” she slapped him only slightly, but it was enough to make him groan.

“I was thinking,” she began again. “How about, you and I,” her fingers traveled down his exposed chest, “take the day off tomorrow, stay in,” she kissed his throat, “and have absolutely filthy sex everywhere in this apartment until I can’t walk anymore.”

He moaned. “That won’t be so hard,” he said.

Needless to say, he didn’t buy any kitchen supplies that day, the day after that, or the day after that. Truth be told, she never got the chance to buy them.

“We can start today.”

The second they stepped into the shower, her chest was pressed to the cold tiles as he took her from behind.

Even if she’d wanted to, the throbbing between her legs the next morning made shopping for something as useless as kitchen supplies an impossibility. And as she sat on the kitchen counter in the morning, back arched with his head buried deep between her thighs, she realized she wouldn’t regain feeling in her limbs anytime soon.

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fluff #human disaster matt murdock #matt murdock fic #daredevil fic #daredevil x reader #daredevil smut #matt murdock imagines #no y/n #reader insert

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joosthead · 2 months ago

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Sorry for all of this in advance. Family AUs are my bread and butter regardless of which fandom I'm in and this revelation about the future of normal au has me going insane so just bare with me at moment. Sorry if this is weird/cringe or if you can't comment on anything due to spoilers.🫠

The first kid being an accident because of course he would be. 😅

Born soon after the first wedding, so was he the result of "we're engaged" sex or was he the reason for the proposal if there even was one before the wedding? Was Reader pregnant at the wedding??? If so, omg how cute but also it probably looked like a shotgun wedding to outsiders which is funny to me.

(Also if there was an engagement, how did Joost propose?? Was it romantic and planned or a spur of the moment thing?)

And of course the second kid is also an accident.🤣 They probably got too excited once given the all clear to have sex again after the first was born. Of course they would end up with two so close together.

Kids 1 and 2 sound like little menaces and I both love that for Joost and Reader and pity them at the same time.

Also for the third kid, I love how Joost saying she's fussy and not liking any of his songs harkens back to when him and Reader first met and the first song of his she listened to was a skip. Like mother like daughter indeed.

I love thinking back to the prequel fic of when they met with Reader chewing out Joost for ruining her purse and later realizing she is having sex with a man with a crazy frog tattoo with all this future information in mind. Like, honey, you just met the father of your children. He is going to sing Crazy Frog to them as they go to sleep.

I'm going to say this in the context of normal au to not be parasocial and make assumptions about the actual guy, but I think Joost would be a great dad. He's like a big kid himself so he would get along with the lil kleins so well. Although that probably leaves all the discipline to poor Reader.

So those were my thoughts and feelings 🤪. I hope you don't mind all of that 😅. Normal au is one of my favorites on here and I love your writing. Can't wait to see how these two idiots fall in love. 👍

anon first of all: thank you thank you thank you for leaving this incredibly detailed and lovely ask it isn't weird or cringe I ABSOLUTELY LOVE LOVE LOVE TALKING ABOUT NORMAL AU !!! lolol i was actually going to have it so they're a 1 and done couple but i thought three little kleins running around would be so cute :’’’’))) i grappled a bit with how normal au would End as in in the future future but i really see them with the white picket fence and the kids and pets and everything….maybe it is my own personal penchant for domesticity but i can't imagine it any other way LOLSSS

reader was pregnant during the wedding!! but they didn’t know until after :’’) there was no proposal, in my head it was like they were taking a walk in joost’s hometown and he was like … we should get married. idk if town hall weddings exist in NE but they do now according to normal au LOL reader’s like yknow what. let’s get married.

all of it was very spur of the moment but they wouldn’t have it any other way 🩷 and ofc finding out about baby 1 (i w decided he’s named laurens) is CRAZY unexpected for both of them :’’) my heart

yes that's exactly why baby 2 is an accident LOLOL they pounced on each other the second they got the go ahead and one thing led to another and … baby 2 !! (i’m deciding baby 2 is named juna because of the song by clairo i don’t make the rules [i do make all the rules])

laurens n juna r partners in crime in every possible way… when they get old enough to talk and be little rascals they cover for each others various pint sized crimes of which i’m sure there are many—distracting papa from the music or mama from work, boosting each other up to steal cookies from cookie jar,

there was really no room to worry about if they would get along or not since they’re so close in age… fr my favorite irish twins

sometimes reader and joost get at each others heads because parenthood but they will always remember that the common enemy is not each other—it’s the ✨kids✨jk …. unless…..

baby number 3 (sanne!!) is definitely fussy the way reader is and the parallel to the night they met ,,, anon i didn’t even make that connection when i was writing it !! that is so fucking cute and i love how you KNOWW normal au hahaha oh my gosh i love that sm. i imagine laurens and juna to be a lot like joost in energy and mind while sanne is takes completely after reader

WHEN I TELLLLL YOUUUUUU THIS ALMOST MADE ME CRY AT WORK “like honey you just met the father of your children. he is going to sing crazy frog to them as they go to sleep.” FUCK. FUCKKKKKK. trust when you guys see the rest of normal au it will literally be such a surprise with even more future information

i also agree with you :33 normal au joost is just as blindsided by the babies as reader is but he definitely steps up to the plate for his people :33 i also think he is just such a softie he can't bring it in himself to discipline the kids in a way that matters so he has to beg reader to do it LOL

thank you so so so much for your thoughts and feelings and i invite them wholeheartedly and warmly!! i'm so happy you love normal au and my writing and i thank you for the kind compliments and such generous thoughts on normal au so so much they really keep me writing <333333

#so sorry this took so long i've been so busy but again thank you < 333333 #normal au #<3 #asks #junohead speaks #joost x reader #joost klein x reader #joost klein fanfiction #joost klein x you #joost x you

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mynameisjag · 3 months ago

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“Of course, the only way you are friendly towards me is by mistake.”

Logan's response was a huff.

Scott rubbed his temple, watching as all 5ft 3 inches of a densely compacted man preceded to stretch and arch like a cat before plopping back onto the Summers bed.

He could call Jean, he should call Jean, he just needed to pick up the phone and tell her Logan was currently in their bed in nothing but boxers and high out of his mind.

Which sounded terrible out of context.

In context didn’t sound any better if he was honest.

It may involve an enclosed space, a huge amount of the mutant equivalent of cat-nip, and the Wolverine being stuck in the room with the stuff. His heightened sense backfiring on him and the absurdity of trying to herd him back to safety would haunt Scott forever.

He had no idea when the other mutant lost his clothes but this was Logan, who had a tendency to come out of fights half dressed anyway, so it didn’t really bother him as much as it did everyone else.

The whole chase felt like a cartoon, cause Logan never aimed to hurt anyone and seemed to be playing with them even during the rougher parts. Watching him run on all fours towards him was still terrifying though, not that the leader would ever admit that out loud.

Ever been chased by a near naked feral of a man sprinting absurdly fast at you on all fours while grinning like he was possessed? Scott has and he does not recommend it.

He was going to share it with his wife so he wouldn’t be the only haunted by the imagery though, love through the good and bad times and all that.

“At least your calm now,” he patted the others head, getting a purr back in return, “no one is going to believe me, I’m going to have to go through the rest of my life knowing deep down, you are just kitty cat. Jean is just going to laugh at me and never bring it up again and this moment will seem like a fever dream in the future.”

He was being nipped at now, just small little playful bites, “Please don’t be cute, you are a grown man and I just know you are going to be such a pain in the ass when you come back to your senses and realize what you’ve done.”

A chuff followed by the slow blink and another nip.

“Gotta call my wife, I don’t think you can actually go anywhere right now but still, do not go anywhere.”

Logan actually looked sad as he watched the other man leave, whining as the door shut behind Scott.

“Okay, you can do this, don’t make it sound weird,” he had the phone in his hands, waiting, “a normal mission review.”

“Scott is everything okay?”

“Logan is in our bed nearly naked.”

“…Strange early anniversary gift, should I pick up wine and whiskey on the way back?”

#jag is in a mood #marvel #x men #wolverine #scott summers #cyclops #i just wanted to write something silly #enjoy this so its no longer in my head #ficlet #high as hell Wolverine is a sweetheart

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pagannatural · 8 months ago

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2.08 Crossroad Blues

-Absolute classic. Sam’s bossy ass saying Dean’s notoriety means they have to be more careful now, Dean flirting by calling him “you innocent, harmless young man you.” Sam feels overshadowed, or maybe he just wants them to be mentioned as a pair.

-Dean doesn’t want to help people who made demon deals, because he feels they’ve brought this on themselves. Sam notices that Dean is being weird about this when normally saving people is his jam. Sam notes this red flag in Dean’s behavior.

Something I just realized is that Sam didn’t seem to be this observant with John. Dean knows both John and Sam well but in different ways. He learned how to read John but he can sense Sam like a part of himself. Did Sam not learn how to read John? Did he not have to because understanding Dean was more central to his world and wellbeing? He looked up to Dean and trusted that they could take care of each other. This is part of what makes the dynamic between the three of them so striking. Sam didn’t seem to have that slight fear of John that Dean did, that comes from trying really hard to predict what a parent will say or do next.

-Dean kicks in the front door when Evan locks it, leads the way inside, and goes to kick in the office doors but Sam stops him by grabbing his leg

which leaves him sort of leaning into Dean and holding his leg. Sam then opens the door because it was unlocked. I love this moment because it shows how close they are that Sam feels comfortable intercepting him physically and knew right away what Dean was going to do. It also shows Sam’s role in their relationship tempering Dean’s brute-force reactions, helping him slow down.

-Dean tells Evan unsympathetically “I think you did it for yourself so you wouldn’t have to live without her.”

This episode is so complex when you watch it in context. Right now Dean is mad at John for saving his life because he feels guilty, and because he was brought back to a world heavy with the crushing weight of his father’s absence and horrifying last edict.

But John most certainly didn’t bring Dean back because he didn’t want to live without him—John died right away. This is Dean contemplating bringing John back because he really needs his dad right now. He’s exhausted and he’s confused and he doesn’t know what to do about Sam and the responsibility is killing him. He looked up to John and thought he had all the answers. The temptation to make a deal and bring him back is ripe.

And then— we know that actually Dean would sell his soul for someone just like Evan did, like John did—someone he would rather die than live without, someone he loves with a desperation similar to Evan’s love for his wife. That person is Sam. Dean doesn’t realize this yet.

-Sam can tell what’s going through Dean’s head and becomes worried and scared, asking him not to go to the crossroads demon right now because “I don’t like where your head’s at.” He’s incredulous.

Dean argues “You’re not allowed to say no, Sammy, not unless you got a better idea.” This sounds like it’s one of their rules for hunting. They’ll try the next best idea whatever that may be because doing something is better than doing nothing.

Sam says “Dean you can forget it, alright. I’m not letting you summon that demon.” He’s being SO protective. Dean will do whatever Sam says unless Sam says Don’t go do something dangerous.

Sam tries to make Dean stay.

They talk about the likelihood that John made a similar deal, and Dean swallows and says “what if he did? What if he struck a deal? My life for his soul.” He waits for Sam’s reply, and seems truly afraid of what Sam will say, like Sam would say John shouldn’t have done that.

Sam gives him this look that’s got some fire in it, some conviction. Maybe he’s mad at Dean for his self-hatred.

Sometimes I forget that at this point in the story, Sam has almost lost Dean twice. Both times Sam was willing to do anything to get Dean back. He finally has his big brother back after years apart, and he is no longer in a position to really be able to go back to his normal life. He needs Dean, and he chose Dean. I don’t want to come across like Sam doesn’t care about John because genuinely I think it’s made clear that he does, but it is very much supported by the text that Sam would rather have Dean back even with John in hell than lose Dean. He told Dean that he’s the only one who’s always been there for him, he trusts Dean, he feels loved and protected by Dean, and when Dean and John were both in peril he went to Dean.

But we don’t get to find out what Sam would say to Dean’s question, because they’re interrupted. Sam unhappily watches Dean go.

-This whole scene where the crossroads demon offers to bring John back in exchange for Dean’s soul is so, so beautifully acted by Jensen. Dean’s plan all along is to trap the demon and exorcise her, and if he’s going to follow through, he can’t make that deal. He wants to. He feels guilty enough about John’s soul burning in hell for him forever, on top of his grief. When she finally steps into the trap he looks like he might cry. It worked, he moves forward with his plan without taking the deal offered. Why doesn’t he? It’s not what his dad would’ve wanted, obviously, and it’s not what Sam wants. Sam was explicitly worried about Dean making the deal and told him not to go. But I think it’s mostly that Dean hates demons. He makes quite a few sexual jokes this episode and talks about hitting on the front desk girl at animal control, but when the demon kisses him to seal their deal, he doesn’t even make a lascivious joke, he’s just disgusted—and the demon is possessing a beautiful woman who’s his type. His hatred for demons is personal. Demons quite literally killed his parents, ruined his life, and are mysteriously targeting and trying to corrupt his baby brother. They represent that black and white pure evil that he wants to salt and burn from the earth. So his feelings make sense.

-Dean talks about the way John died while he and Sam drive away. Dean doesn’t understand yet, what could make someone sell their soul to a demon.

I don’t think he has entertained the idea of what he would do if Sam died. The king of denial just won’t let it enter his brain.

Sam understands, though. He answers Dean really softly.

This is logical to Sam. He wanted John to prove he gave a shit about Dean, and he did. John did something right, and even though it makes Dean feel guilty, Sam would rather have a guilt-stricken Dean than no Dean.

#samdean #supernatural #spn meta #wincest #spn 2x08

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thecircularlibrary · 3 months ago

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graylyra one shot?

Location Services

Grayson x Lyra

words: 734 words

warnings: n/a

A/N: my first ever one-shot/fic. sorry if it's a little short.

Dunkin Donuts was not an ideal meeting location for Grayson Hawthorne. He couldn’t even recall the last time that he’d had a donut, much less one from a chain restaurant. However, long distance made him desperate and he would do anything short of murder to see his girlfriend while he was in her college town. So there he was, sitting in a Dunkin Donuts in jeans and a crew neck—also out of character for him—waiting for Lyra Kane to get out of class.

Relationships were weird for Grayson, and Lyra knew that. They’d talked about it an abundance of times. Especially when it came to the dreaded long-distance conversation. Obviously, there wasn’t much that Lyra could do about it. She was, first-and-foremost, a college student. That has always been true. It just never felt real until The Game was over and she actually had to go back.

Winning the game was a big deal for her, as she was able to save her family’s home and pay off her tuition debt. However, they didn’t see eachother often. Over the summers she was working internships and he was working the foundation. She never came to Texas, because when she was free to go anywhere, she went home to her family. Not his family.

She graduated at the end of the semester and the thought of What happens after? was constantly running through Grayson’s head. What happens when she’s truly free to go anywhere? What happens when she has a choice between going somewhere else and coming closer to him—coming closer to home?

His stream of consciousness was interrupted when she walked in. She was radiant. Her tan skin practically glowed and she was dressed casually. She was smiling. After everything that had happened, it was amazing for Grayson to see her smile. He thought about how many times she’d said the same about him.

“Hey, Hawthorne,” Lyra said grinning as she set her backpack down in the chair across from him.

They went to the counter to order their drinks. As they talked about life, school, and the mundane parts of life, Lyra looked as if she was about to explode.

“Do you have something you want to tell me?” Grayson asked expectantly, once they were safely seated at the table with their drinks. He was silently wishing it was news that would, hopefully, segue naturally into a conversation about, for lack of a better term, living situations.

“Do you remember that internship I was working at last summer?” Lyra asked through a grin.

He did remember. Her local internship. Not in Texas.

“I do remember. The data analysis one, right?”

“Yes! Well, guess what?”

“What?”

“They offered me a permanent position. At a satellite branch. In Texas!”

Grayson’s mind blanked, the sentence ‘In Texas!’ the only thing in his head. He hadn’t expected his wish to work.

“Grayson! Don’t you know what this means?”

“Hmm?”

“I can get an apartment with the salary they’re paying me so I can be clo–”

“Do you want to move into my penthouse?”

Lyra’s eyes widened, and Grayson looked down as he realized that she hadn’t even said whether she was in Austin, or Dallas, or San Antonio, or Houston. Or maybe, since it was a satellite branch, they were looking for smaller cities: San Marcos, Corpus Christi, Waco, New Braunfels. She might even be going to Nacogdoches. He sounded inconsiderate interrupting her when she could’ve been giving important context that saved him from embarrassment. Grayson wished that spoken word had an unsend button.

“I’d love to, Grayson.”

Grayson looked up at her, and in that moment he had never loved her more. Moments of their future flashed through his head. The two of them waking up together, making dinner, watching movies, and even seeing each other off to work. Her voice brought him back to the present.

“My job is in the city and your penthouse is actually really close to the office. It’d be nice to not have to commute. Even nicer if it means I get to be with you while I do it.”

“Okay,” he said softly. “I’ll come up here to help pack your apartment and then move you down to Texas when your lease is up.”

She held her drink up in the air to mimic a champagne glass. “To new beginnings?”

He smiled and picked up his cup.

“To new beginnings.”

#the inheritance games #the final gambit #the grandest game #the hawthorne legacy #grayson hawthorne #lyra x grayson #lyrason #lyra kane #the brothers hawthorne #oneshot #isabellas fics

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darkwritingsnshit · 2 months ago

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Once in a Dream

Warnings: Dark characters, canon dark characters, stalking, drug mention, kidnapping if you squint, please don't read if you're under 18 or dislike dark elements

Jefferson(OUAT)xreader

It started when you decided to go for a walk by the river. The yellow leaves crunched underfoot, the sound of the river running over rocks, watching it glisten in the late afternoon sunshine was a welcome reprieve from the rest of your day. Something about walking softly through the woods and finding flowers to make a bouquet filled you with joy that seemed to be missing from the rest of your life. You closed your eyes, letting the sunshine and birdsong wash over you, until you heard the snap of a branch. You whipped your head around, to see a man in dark clothing approach you.

“I think you dropped this.” The man told you, reaching out with one of your gloves in his hand. He looked eerily familiar, but you couldn’t place him.

“Thank you.” You took the glove from his outstretched hand. There were rarely other people in the woods, you found yourself drawn to them for that exact reason. Another human was the last thing you expected to find. “Do I know you? You seem familiar.”

The man chuckled to himself, then shook his head.

“Not anymore.” He told you, the slightest smile turning up his lips.

“What do you mean?” You asked him.

“Sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself.” He shook his head. “I’m Jefferson.” He extended his hand again and you shook it, telling him your name. “We used to know each other, a long time ago.”

You wracked your brain for any kind of context. You were sure you knew his face from somewhere, but it was impossible to pinpoint. “It’s nice to see you again.” Your words held a question. Jefferson just laughed to himself.

“Don’t worry, I don’t expect you to remember, that was another life.” The words he spoke confused you. His presence made you uncomfortable, the air seemed charged.

“I should get back home, I was just taking a walk.” You told the man, suddenly eager to get out of his presence.

“Let me walk with you.” Jefferson told you, not allowing another option. He took your arm and led you through the woods. A sense of déjà vu washed over you. Somehow, he knew where to find your car without asking. He waited until you unlocked the door before he leaned in.

“I would be upset with myself if I didn’t ask you to dinner at my place.” He told you, too close for comfort.

“You’re very kind, Jefferson.” You told him. “I have other plans tonight, I’m sorry.” His face darkened, his eyes flashed.

“No, you don’t, quit lying to me.” His tone changed abruptly. He wasn’t asking, he was telling.

“I really do, now I have to go.” You didn’t care that Jefferson was too close to you, or that your car door was open, you just wanted to leave. You turned the key to start the car, but nothing happened. Panic rose in your chest, and you turned the key again, while this strange man watched you with a smug look on his face.

“My house isn’t far from here,” He gestured behind him, “just a five-minute walk. I can call you a tow truck from there.”

You took the cell phone out of your pocket only to find there was no service. Nobody you could call or get ahold of, just the eerie man who found you in the woods. You thought about your options for a few minutes, Jefferson looked impatient while you mulled over what you could do. He finally smiled when you got out of your car, locked it and turned to face him.

“Do you have service?” You asked, praying that his phone may use a different carrier that picked up a signal out here.

“I don’t have a phone.” He replied, which you thought was weird. Everyone had a cell phone, who would come out in the woods without one?

Realizing you didn’t have any other options, you followed Jefferson up the road for a few minutes, before walking up a driveway to a beautiful mansion.

“You live here?” You asked the man.

“It appears that way, doesn’t it?” He mused while pulling out a key and unlocking the door.

“I thought this house was empty,” you told him, “I haven’t seen anyone come in or out of it since I’ve been here.”

“I’m not always around, I get out when I can.” Was the only explanation he offered.

His house was beautiful, gorgeous floors and expensive wallpaper, odd looking trinkets and teacups made the mansion look less cavernous and more like a home. You let him take your coat and followed him into the kitchen where he began to boil water for tea. You glanced around the kitchen, looking for a phone of some kind.

“Can I use your phone?” You asked him.

“Aren’t you going to stay for tea?” Jefferson sat uncomfortably close to you, placing a teacup and saucer in front of you.

“Thank you.” You took a sip of the tea.

When it touched your lips, it was like an electric shock surged through your body. It wasn’t like any tea you bought at the store, not like anything you had before. It smelled and tasted like home, but not the home you knew and loved, a different kind of home. Some kind of home you remembered from a dream. It was honeysuckle sweet, though you hadn’t seen him add any sugar. A sense of calm washed over you.

“Where did you get this?” You put the teacup down on the saucer, forgetting where you were for a minute.

“I made it.” He replied, surveying your face. You just nodded in silence, taking another drink. You hadn’t realized you finished your tea until Jefferson reached the teapot to refill your cup.

“I need to call a tow truck.” This gesture snapped you out of whatever trance you were in.

“Why would you do that? You’re home.” Jefferson cocked his head at you. You didn’t know what to say to that, you realized you shouldn’t have sat down with him, you should have called the tow truck as soon as you arrived.

“Thank you for the tea, and for showing me your home, but I really need to get back to my car now.” You pushed away from the table and stood, unhappily noting that Jefferson was between you and the door.

“Nothing is going to happen to your car, you should stay for dinner.” He wasn’t letting you any closer to the door, rather was walking you back towards the kitchen.

“I really need to get back home, Jefferson.” When you said his name, his eyes changed. A beautiful smile lit up his face.

“You don’t remember, do you?” He was close enough to touch a strand of your hair and tuck it behind your ear.

“Remember what?” You could hardly form words. You just wanted to leave. When he heard your reply, Jefferson backed up, a sad look on his face again.

“Our life.” He said simply, his eyes searching yours for something he couldn’t find.

“You seem like a really nice person,” you lied, searching for an inch more room, “but I just met you, and I really need to get back home so I can go to work tomorrow.”

His hands hovered, then he dropped them. He shook his head, then turned his back on you. Watching but not moving, you saw him leave the room, to return with a phone. He dialed a number and put it to his ear. After a minute he gave a description of your car, where it was and his address.

“They’ll be at your car in about an hour. So, we have some time to kill.” He spread his hands across the counter, staring at you.

“You said we met before.” You didn’t like how he was looking at you. It looked like he wanted to devour you.

“A long time ago.” He finally turned away from you, clearing the teacups from the kitchen table.

“Can you tell me where?” You probed; the feeling of familiarity was too much for your curiosity. “You wouldn’t believe me if I did.” He looked at you again, surveying you, your body in a way that you didn’t like.

“Try me.” You countered, holding his gaze. You watched him walk to the living room, weighing his words before he sat down on the couch. He gestured for you to sit beside him. You didn’t sit next to him, but on the chair across the living room table, so that he no longer blocked you from the door.

“Do you believe in magic?” Jefferson asked you. He seemed so focused on how you would react.

“I teach science.” You replied, trying not to laugh or otherwise make him mad about his silly question.

“That didn’t answer my question.” He mused.

“I believe there are things we can’t understand and can’t explain, but that doesn’t mean they’re magic.” You weren’t sure how to answer his question.

“Are you sure about that?” The knowing look in his eyes made you think you gave him the wrong answer.

“If someone wants to believe in magic, I won’t stop them.” You tried to recover from whatever conversational fumble you made.

Jefferson turned his head and let out a dry laugh. “But you don’t?” He continued to question you.

“I don’t know, I guess not?” You replied, eyeing the door.

“What if I told you, you can’t remember who I am, because of a magical curse?” Jefferson’s eyes had a crazy look in them. It was as though he wanted you to say you believed him.

“I think it’s probably time for me to head back to my car.” You stood up and walked quickly to the door before he could stop you. His face became clouded, his body language became cold. He took your coat from beside the door and helped you put it on.

“I’ll walk with you.” He insisted on opening the door so you had no choice but to walk beside him.

The two of you didn’t talk on the short walk back to the car, or when you arrived. It took another ten minutes for the tow truck to arrive, ten minutes that you spent in silence that seemed incredibly loud.

“One of you called me out here?” A man in a large truck pulled up beside you and Jefferson, leaning out his window.

“That was me!” You piped up. “My car wont start, can you help?”

The man nodded and parked his truck in front of your car, then got out to start moving things around so he could pull your car onto the back of the tow truck. The entire time, Jefferson stared at you, you didn’t see him blink even once. Eventually the tow truck driver finished up, and when you were about to hand him some money, Jefferson gave him a credit card.

“Thanks for coming, I know it’s a long drive.” He told the driver. “Put the whole bill on here, I don’t care how much it costs.”

“Jefferson, I can’t let you do that.” You told him, but he held up his hand.

“You can, and you will. I’m just lucky I found you.” His tone didn’t leave room for argument. You weren’t sure what he meant, or what to say, so you thanked him, and went to sit in the tow truck.

It wasn’t too long a drive; the tow truck driver chattered your ear off and before you knew it you were back in town. You thanked him for the ride and left your car with the mechanic to figure out why it wouldn’t start. Storybrooke was small, so walking home from downtown didn’t take more than ten minutes.

When you got home, you took off your coat and went to sit down, the weirdness of the day catching up. Your phone had a signal now, so you decided to look up the strange man named Jefferson who found you in the woods. Try as you might, there was no internet record of the man, no social media, no news stories, no birth record, nothing. Although he had been asking you weird questions, he let you in his home, gave you tea and called a tow truck for you. Maybe it really was just someone in Storybrooke you hadn’t met yet. Still, the feeling of knowing that man from somewhere was one you couldn’t shake.

Later that night you wound down for bed, deciding to make some tea after a relaxing bath. Right next to the tea kettle you set to boil, was a square box of tea you hadn’t remembered purchasing. You shrugged and opened it, pouring boiling water over the tea bag in your cup. When you sat down to drink it, you realized it tasted just like the tea Jefferson had given you earlier. You went back to the counter where you left the box of tea, looking for a label. The box was white, with only a stamp on the bottom, which read “Made in Storybrooke”. If you had gotten it somewhere in town, it made sense that Jefferson would have something similar.

As you relaxed and drank your tea, stories that seemed like memories took over your thoughts and ran through your head. The longer you stayed awake, the longer your mind raced. When your thoughts got too loud, you decided it was time to go to sleep, and let your brain get the rest it clearly needed.

“I’ve waited a lifetime to be with you. Please don’t make me keep waiting.” You couldn’t take any more of it. Jefferson wanted what he thought was best for you, even though you didn’t agree. All you wanted was him.

“You’re worth more than this, than what I can give you.” The look on his face was so heartbroken, you couldn’t stand it. You did what you knew would work, you pulled him into a kiss that made your heart soar.

“I want you, Jefferson.” You whispered when you broke the kiss and rested your forehead against his. “I don’t care about anything else.”

“You say that now-” you cut him off with another kiss.

“I traveled worlds to find you, to find my happiness. Don’t you dare try to talk me out of what we have.” Your words seemed to work this time, or maybe it was the kiss. The sorrow left his face, and a smile broke across it instead.

“Then let’s get you home.” Jefferson took your hand and walked down the path you knew so well. The flowers you planted stood bright in the window boxes, the garden was alive and beautiful in the yard, but all you could see was him.

Once you made it inside, you nearly jumped on him. He was yours, and you were his, and you weren’t going to let him go.

You woke with a gasp, your dreams felt so real. You looked around your room to make sure you were alone. There was nobody in your room, the house sounded empty. The fact that the man you met in the woods the day before starred in your dreams made you uneasy.

Not only was the strange meeting the day before fresh in your mind, but your lifelike dreams were as well, no matter how hard you tried to ignore them. Even worse, you couldn’t shake the feeling of someone’s eyes on you. Nevertheless, you had to get ready for the day, preparing to see your students, to socialize with your coworkers and shake off the strange dreams that lingered.

Botany was your forte, but because there weren’t any universities in Storybrooke, you were happy teaching elementary science classes. The wonder and excitement of children discovering how the world around them worked was far more precious than bored university students trying to get through your class with a passing grade. Besides, it was fun to sit with kids and hear about their lives, a few of them would visit you after school and chat. You were used to Henry and Paige coming to visit during lunch break, Paige was enamored by Henry’s stories, and you liked them too, though you were sure to remind him that they were just that, stories.

That day Henry brought his storybook when he and Paige came to visit you during lunch, the two of them giggling and pouring through the pages. Henry had a hard enough time as it was, you weren’t going to burst the fairy tale bubble he retreated to when he read his book. When the children let out a loud laugh you looked up with a smile. Henry looked happy for once, and Paige… Paige looked like a beautiful child who for some reason you wanted to pull close and hug. When she met your eyes with a smile, you felt a hollow pain shoot through your chest.

“Are you okay?” Henry asked, when you didn’t respond to whatever question Paige had asked.

“I... I forgot something.” You didn’t break eye contact with Paige until you shook your head, willing the painful feeling you got when you looked at Paige to go away. “I have a meeting I need to get to. Can you two find your way to recess without me?” You asked, unwilling to look back to Paige. Both children nodded and raced each other through your classroom doors. There was no meeting to get to, you were rather shaken by the feeling you had when Paige approached you. She was just another student, why was it that you felt like she was so important?

The rest of the day passed in a blur, one class running into the other until the school bell rang. When your classroom emptied, you returned to your desk and held your head in your hands. Clearly the man in the woods yesterday had spooked you, and it was getting to the rest of your life. Since there was no more busy work, you readied yourself to go home, picking up your things and leaving school. When you got to your car you felt like you were being watched, so you turned and surveyed the parking lot. On the far end, you saw the movement that caught your eye. He was too far away to identify for certain, but a feeling in your gut made you think he looked like the man from yesterday, Jefferson. When your eyes landed on him, he got into his car and drove away, leaving you with no explanation.

“It’s okay Paige, sometimes it takes more than one try.” You told her. Paige’s parents paid you to help tutor her in math. Twice a week you sat at her kitchen table going over worksheets while her parents chattered in the background. Her mother was making dinner, and it smelled delicious.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get it.” Paige told you tearfully. The look on her face made you feel the same pang of sorrow through your heart you felt earlier that week. The look made you pull her into a hug and for some reason you couldn’t dream of letting her go. When you held her in your arms it was like a missing piece of your heart was filled. It confused you, so you pushed it away, aware that you were not her family, you were her teacher.

“Math is hard,” you told her, “I needed a tutor too, did you know that?” Paige dried her eyes and looked at you.

“You did? But you’re so smart.” She replied, looking like she felt better already.

“Smart isn’t about doing things perfectly the first time, it’s about practicing until you’re a master. And I promise, you’re going to master this math homework.” You assured her.

When she smiled it seemed like the warmth of the sun lit up the room. After another hour, Paige was so excited that she understood the math homework, she was nearly jumping with joy. You could have sat there all night and watched her play with her dolls now that she was finished with school.

“Won’t you stay?” Paige’s mother asked you. “I always make enough for you, Paige loves having dinner with you.” She always asked you to stay, and sometimes you did, but not tonight. There was a bittersweet feeling you were steeped in; you couldn’t feel prouder of Paige and the progress she made, the time you spent with her, but you also knew this wasn’t your place, that she had a family that loved her, and you weren’t a part of that.

“Thank you, but I have to get home tonight.” You told her mother, knowing you had to leave. Because if you didn’t leave then, you might not leave at all. Paige saw you out, saying her goodbyes. You didn’t give her a chance to hug you goodnight, you weren’t sure you wouldn’t pick her up and take her home with you.

It was dark outside, so when you began to tear up when you got to your car, nobody could see you. Or so you thought.

“Why?” You choked out to yourself, wondering where these maternal feelings towards Paige were coming from. Why did you suddenly care for her so much now, why was it so hard to see her with her family, to say goodbye? Something wasn’t right.

“Because you love her.” A voice emerged from the shadows. You knew his voice from your dreams, though you wouldn’t admit it out loud.

“She’s my student, that’s all.” You didn’t care that you were teary eyed, you just wanted to be alone. Jefferson stepped forward into what little light was left.

“You know she’s more than that, you can feel it.” He told you, coming closer than you wanted him to. He seemed to like doing that, putting you in uncomfortable proximity to him. He could reach out and touch you if he wanted.

“Why are you here? Why are you following me?” Your sadness became an anger that you turned to Jefferson, a man who had a funny habit of simply appearing from nowhere.

“You’re tutoring her,” he said, “two birds, one stone. You’ve made it easier for me, at least twice a week.” His words scared you, pulled at some emotion inside you that you couldn’t place.

“Are you watching me? Are you watching her?” Your voice rose, edged with hysteria.

“I’m watching my family.” Jefferson replied coolly. “I’m making sure you’re safe.” His body language changed, he was no longer at ease, he was tense, and his jaw clenched. You didn’t feel safe. This man in the dark was watching you, was watching Paige, and you didn’t know just how long he had been. You backed up, touching the handle of your car door.

“I don’t know you, and I want you to leave me alone.” You mustered as much courage as you could, panic rising. Instead of leaving, Jefferson moved closer.

“You know me, and you’re starting to remember. You’re starting to remember everything.” He whispered against your ear. “And when you do, I’m not going to let you go through that alone. When you do, I’ll be with you. And I won’t leave you again.”

You pushed against his chest as hard as you could, he stumbled backwards a few steps.

“Leave me alone!” Your voice sounded loud in the quiet of the dark evening. You got into your car as fast as you could and locked the doors. He didn’t approach the car, he just stood there with his arms crossed, brow furrowed and watched you drive away.

When you got home, you locked the door and checked all your windows, bolting whichever ones weren’t already locked. You pulled every curtain in your home, if Jefferson was going to be watching you, you weren’t going to make it easy on him. You considered calling the cops, but what were you supposed to tell them? That you thought some strange man has been following you, has been watching you? How could you expect them to do anything when you didn’t have any proof? You saw the man twice, and though he affirmed that he was watching you and Paige, could that hold up in court? Your word against someone else’s, while you held no evidence of a crime, didn’t seem to have a very promising outcome.

It took you hours to relax, eventually you forced yourself into your nighttime routine of taking a bath, drinking tea and reading a book. Even as you drank your tea on the couch, you had a hard time focusing on the book in front of you. The lines on the page seemed to move, you read the same paragraph a few times before giving up. You sat in silence, unable to quiet your mind. You thought of the strangeness of the last week; Jefferson, your dreams, the indescribable feeling of hope and sorrow when you saw Paige. Yet nothing in your life had changed to spark these feelings, no event or unusual occurrence, besides meeting Jefferson in the woods.

When you looked at the clock, you realized you spent hours on the couch thinking, the time seemed to have passed without you noticing. You still weren’t tired; your mind was loud. Even so, you had school in the morning, so you got pajamas on and ready yourself for a restless night. What little sleep you got was plagued by dreams, but this time they weren’t dreams of Jefferson, they were dreams of the mayor, Regina.

“Did you really think I would let you have him? After everything I went through? After Daniel?” Regina pushed you down to the cold floor. “Did you really think I would allow you to be happy?”

“Regina please!” You grasped the wall to stand, Regina’s laughter echoing around you.

“I am your queen, and you will obey me!” Regina’s eyes lit up; her voice thundered.

“I had nothing to do with Daniel!” She was picking a fight with someone who hadn’t raised a hand in battle.

The mirth in her voice peaked when she came close and grabbed your throat.

“Oh sweet, simple Alice. Don’t you see? It doesn’t matter what you had to do with anything.” She whispered in your ear as you stood shaking. “What matters is that if I cannot have my happiness, you can’t have yours either.”

Once again you woke with a start, breathing hard as if you ran a marathon. Was it the tea you were drinking that made your dreams so vivid, so real? You’d have to switch back to something that didn’t make you have dreams that woke you screaming. The clock read 2:15 am. The rest of your night was spent tossing and turning, praying for sleep that didn’t come.

Your dreams confused you, but maybe that’s how all dreams were. The sleeping brain still didn’t make much sense to scientists or to you. You didn’t know Regina well, but she had always been kind and generous, she had helped you get your job at the elementary school. Hell, you voted for her in the last election, she had a great record and Storybrooke was a beautiful town thanks to her leadership. So why was it you had a dream she was hurting you, yelling at you? And why did she call you Alice? You knew analyzing dreams was pseudoscience, and dwelling on it wouldn’t help you get on with your day. You tried hard to busy yourself, focus on teaching and enjoying the company of the kids in your class, but you couldn’t shake your dreams.

The next night you decided to take a sleeping pill, you couldn’t stand one more night of vivid dreams. It did the trick, you had a deep, dreamless sleep and didn’t wake once until your alarm blared. It was hard to drag yourself from your bed, to face the morning light, but you knew you had to. You felt responsible for the kids in your class, you owed it to them to show up and teach them each week. You weren’t going to let them down because you felt tired.

“Paige’s mother called, she’s sick so she won’t be in class today.” The office administrator told you when you checked in with them before school started that day.

A sense of dread overcame you. Was she going to be, okay? What kind of sickness did she have, could you help? The only thing on your mind was how much you wanted Paige to heal, you couldn’t stand the thought of her being sick.

The day went by as usual, though the worry you held about Paige sat somewhere in your stomach the whole time. It was unusual not to see her or Henry when lunch came around, so you decided to seek him out during recess.

“Henry!” You called to him across the playground. He happily skipped in your direction.

“Hi!” He greeted you, smile on his face.

“I didn’t see you at lunch, is everything okay?” You were concerned; if Paige was unwell there was a chance Henry was under the weather too. The two of them spent a lot of time together.

“I’m okay, but Paige is sick, so I decided to eat with my other friends today.” Henry explained.

“Do you know if she’s alright?” You couldn’t stop the words from leaving your mouth. You knew it wasn’t your place to ask.

“She’s okay, I think she has a fever. She should be back by Monday, at least I hope so.” Henry was eying the other kids on the monkey bars.

“I won’t keep you from recess, I’m glad you’re doing okay.” You told Henry, before walking back into the school.

The second half of the day always passed quickly, and before you knew it the bell was ringing to let the children flood the hallways and leave the school. You too, wanted to leave and go home, do something you enjoyed, but there was paperwork and lesson plans that weren’t going to write themselves. It was dark by the time you were done, but the entire weekend beckoned you now that your Friday work was complete. You pulled out your phone and turned on the flashlight, the low lights in the parking lot weren’t enough for you to see clearly.

“She wasn’t there, was she?” This time he didn’t hide on the other side of the parking lot; he approached you with confidence.

“I told you to stay away from me.” You tried not to let your voice betray your emotions. Jefferson didn’t seem to hear you, or he didn’t care.

“She’s sick, she has a fever. They took her to the doctor today, but she’ll be better than ever soon.” You knew he was talking about Paige.

“So, you’re stalking her too?” You spit in his direction.

“I told you, I’m looking out for my family.” Jefferson couldn’t say anything that made sense to you. “Doesn’t it kill you that you can’t be with her when she needs you?”

The feelings of dread, of worry, concern came back to you. You hadn’t chased them off, they were waiting for the right words to make an appearance.

“Come near me again, and I’ll call the police.” You were shaking when Jefferson put his hands on your shoulders.

“Then why haven’t you?” he asked, a knowing tone in his voice. “I think it’s because you remember.”

“I don’t remember anything, get off me.” It came out in a whisper, you couldn’t meet Jefferson’s eyes. You were sure he could feel you shaking.

“I think you’re lying,” he replied, “and I don’t like it when you lie to me.” You closed your eyes when he got even closer, willing yourself the strength to push him away.

“You’re insane.” Was all you could manage, finally stepping backwards and out of his grasp.

Jefferson laughed, though you weren’t sure what was funny.

“You have no idea.” He said with a smile. He slowly walked backwards, never breaking eye contact. Eventually he disappeared in the dark, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

It was hard to get your keys in the ignition, your hands were shaking too hard. You sat back against the seat, giving yourself a few minutes to regain composure. If Jefferson showed up like that again, you were going to call the police. You didn’t care if you had evidence or not.

That night your dreams were of Paige. Unfortunately, your dreams starred someone else, someone you didn’t want to cloud your mind, even in sleep. It was as though you were looking at them through a glass, but they couldn’t seem to see you.

“Can I pour you some tea, Papa?” Paige asked, pretending to pour tea into his cup. She was surrounded by stuffed animals that looked homemade.

Jefferson mimed drinking the tea Paige pretended to pour.

“Is your tea good, Papa?” She asked from across the table they sat.

“It’s delicious, Grace.” Jefferson told her, a wide smile on his face. “It’s always an honor to be invited to join your party.” Paige let out a giggle, and helped her stuffed animals drink their tea.

“When will Mama be home?” She asked Jefferson. He gave her arm a squeeze.

“She’ll be back once she has ingredients to make more tea for us.” He told her. His head turned, and he looked straight through you, like you weren’t there.

“I love you, Papa.” Paige told Jefferson. He looked at her with the most love and affection you had ever seen on someone’s face.

“I love you too, Grace. Mama will be home soon, and we can have a magical evening together.” He picked her up in a hug and spun in a circle. He put her back down and ruffled her hair.

Once more, he turned and looked out the window. This time you swore he saw you.

At least it was Saturday, the vivid dreams and unsettling sleep wouldn’t affect the way you did your job. It was hard to wake up, when you did your thoughts immediately brought Paige to mind, you thought about her as you stumbled through your morning routine.

The sun was lighting the sky, the small town of Storybrooke looked lovely in the morning glow. You slowly walked down the street, stopping to look at different items at the farmer’s market. You got fresh fruit and some flowers, hoping to make a garland with the vibrant colors to hang on your door. When you reached out towards a stuffed rabbit that you thought Paige would love, your hand brushed someone else’s. You didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

“Alice.” Jefferson breathed out, looking at you.

“My name isn’t Alice.” You withdrew your hand and glared.

“Of course, my mistake.” The way his head cocked in amusement didn’t sit well with you.

“You’re following me in broad daylight now? Isn’t that risky, even for you?” You asked him.

“I’m not following you anywhere, it’s a beautiful day and I wanted to see what was at the market.” He shrugged, not admitting to his schemes.

“So, it’s a coincidence that we’re both here?” You didn’t believe him.

“I don’t think so.” He looked at you with amusement. “I think we both thought Grace would love this stuffed rabbit, and we wanted to get her something while she’s sick.”

“What are you talking about? I don’t know a Grace.” You told him. He ground his teeth, though you weren’t sure what you said to upset him.

“Paige.” He spit out her name like it was a dirty word.

“Look, I don’t know who she is to you, but you need to leave her alone.” You felt scared for Paige. This man could do whatever he wanted to anyone else, but you’d be damned if he hurt Paige.

“She’s to me what she is to you.” Jefferson seemed to speak only in riddles.

“She’s, my student.” You told him.

“Do you worry this much when any of your students are sick? Do you go to the market to find your other students toys they love and make sure they get them?” Jefferson questioned. It seemed like he knew the answer.

“Why are you here? Why is it that you appeared from nowhere one day and now I can’t get rid of you?” You were so tired of him, and he had hardly been in your life for more than a couple weeks. The man’s face darkened, he looked more serious than you had seen him before.

“Look.” He pulled you by the shoulder to face the clock tower at the center of town. “The clock started moving again, things are changing.” Jefferson searched your face for any sign of recognition, anything that might hint you understood him. But there was nothing.

“Clocks always move, that’s kind of their thing, they keep time.” You pulled out of his grasp and started to hurry away.

“Tell me about your dreams then!” Jefferson yelled after you. His words made you stop. You hadn’t told anyone about your dreams, you didn’t even want to think about them yourself, they had simply been too strange to consider.

“What do you know about my dreams?” You hissed at him. You seemed to say exactly what he wanted to hear. A real smile spread across his face instead of the confident smirk he wore before.

“I know they’re not dreams.” He replied, all too confident.

“What?” You wanted him to say something that would make sense, something that would reveal his motive, or give you any idea as to why this man suddenly appeared in your life and wouldn’t leave. He approached you again, this time seeming frantic. When he took your shoulders the look in his eyes was so intense it scared you.

“The clock is moving again; the curse is weakening and you’re remembering.” Jefferson looked close to tears; the way he said it made him sound so sincere. But dreams were dreams, and this man was crazy.

“Stay away from me.” You backed away, not turning until Jefferson was lost in the crowd.

You were still rattled when you got home. You tried to calm your breathing while you put away your groceries, but it wasn’t easy. You realized you forgot to purchase the stuffed rabbit you knew Paige would have loved, but when you remembered the circumstances, you figured you were better off. You’d find something else she liked and not have to deal with Jefferson when you did.

Still tired, you made some tea and started to weave the flowers you bought through each other until they began to form a wreath. The birds sang through the open windows, the sun lit your face and the tea you were sipping made you warm. Your fingers got slower and slower, your head felt heavier, your eyes began to drift shut.

“She’ll never know, besides you’re doing her a favor.” Regina circled Jefferson like a cat circling a mouse. She knew she won the game before she started playing.

“She told me not to trust you, that you want to hurt me.” If he sounded just a little more sure of himself, Regina might have backed off, but she heard the tremble in his voice and pounced.

“You think this is good enough for her? Living in a hovel, your family wasting away in poverty? Your wife was a princess, she had everything she could ever want. Do you think she’s happy like this?” Regina knew how to twist people’s minds with her words.

“She doesn’t care.” Jefferson insisted, “she said-”

“She said whatever she wants you to believe, but you aren’t really that stupid, are you?” Words from the Wicked Witch always sounded better than the truth.

“I’m not leaving them; I made a promise.” He crossed his arms in Regina’s direction.

“Well, well, it looks like my sister made an honest man out of our dear Mr. Jefferson. How surprising.” Her voice was honey and vinegar.

Jefferson didn’t want to admit it, but her words planted poison seeds in his mind. He stared at a drawing of you and Grace on the mantle.

“When you’re ready to provide your wife and daughter the life they deserve, you know where to find me.” Regina brushed past Jefferson, closing the door in his face.

You woke with a scream. You clutched your chest and spilled the now cold tea across the wreath of flowers you were weaving together. What was happening to you? Why couldn’t you get a minute of peaceful sleep, and why did your dreams seem so real? Like they were memories, like you could reach out and touch them?

You stood to find a towel for the tea you spilled, abandoning your flower wreath. The sun was low, the clouds streaked with deep purples and pinks created a masterpiece of the sky through the windows. You found yourself staring through the sight before you while you cleaned up the tea, unable to be present in your reality. Some part of you was still entertaining the dreams that plagued you daily.

Who was he, to you? Why did Jefferson star each night in your dreams, why was Paige wrapped up in them, and why was Regina? Had they been a passing phenomenon it would be easy to ignore, but these dreams didn’t seem to stop. Unless you were heavily medicated with sleeping pills, but that wasn’t sustainable. You decided to pull out photo albums you made years ago. They contained pictures of you when you got to Storybrooke, of the children in your class, of the teachers and staff, and your friends around town. You scoured the pages, searching for anyone that resembled Jefferson, but you found nothing. The man was a ghost.

The rest of your day was wholly unproductive, you weren’t present when you made dinner, you could hardly get through a few pages of your favorite book. You attempted a lesson plan for the following week but the wires in your brain weren’t connecting. Even mindless tasks like laundry were hard to pay attention to. Eventually you gave up, took out the trash and sat on the couch in front of the TV, content to listen to something mindless to get through the rest of the night. The prospect of going to bed scared you so you stayed up until your eyes began to close and the teacup started to slip from your hand. Finally admitting defeat, you dragged yourself into bed and hoped beyond hope to find some peace.

“Regina was here.” It was an accusation from your mouth, not a question.

“She was.” Jefferson was tight lipped. He knew how dangerous your sister was. “She offered me a job.”

“A job you’re going to turn down, right?” You were scared, Regina never came bearing good news, or good jobs. She hated that you moved away from her grasp, had a husband you loved, a child. She was jealous and had been trying to ruin your happiness since you found it. Jefferson simply sighed.

“It’s the last job she needs me for.”

“It’ll always be the last job she needs you for! How many last jobs will she ask you to do?” Your voice rose in hysterics; there was no such thing as one last job with Regina. Not while she wore the crown.

Jefferson approached you and rubbed your arms, attempting to placate you.

“I’m not going to take it, I promise.” He assured you with a kiss on your forehead.

“She wants to hurt you.” You whispered, tears behind your eyes. Your sister would never offer anything without some kind of pitfall.

“All I want is to keep you and Grace safe, that’s all I’ve ever wanted.” Jefferson assured you.

“She won’t keep you safe, Jefferson, she won’t keep any of us safe.” Instead of replying he pulled you closer, resting his chin on your head while he held you tight.

“I love you, that’s all that matters.” He murmured against you, “I won’t let either of you go, not for anything.”

You closed your eyes and allowed his soothing words to warm you. Jefferson always kept his word.

When you woke you felt bone cold. Bone cold and exhausted.

“That’s it, I’m done with these dreams.” Glancing at the clock you realized it was almost three in the morning, but you didn’t care. You had a feeling he would be up anyway. If Jefferson wasn’t going to respect your privacy, you didn’t think you owed it to him. You threw on a pair of pants and a tee shirt and found your car keys.

“Hello?!” You pounded on the door for what seemed like the thousandth time. The one time you were trying to talk to him, he wasn’t anywhere to be found.

“Hardly the person I expected to be knocking on my door this late.” Jefferson appeared from the night as he always did. You could never tell where he was coming from or how he managed to sneak up on you every single time. He surveyed you, your messed up hair, your wide eyes and shaken body language. “What are you doing here?” The night air was as cool as his words.

You realized you hadn’t prepared anything to say, you had woken and left your house in such a rush that any words you had thought of once before were now stuck in your throat. For a second you sputtered, opening your mouth before closing it again. Jefferson stepped closer, his nose nearly touched yours, you could feel his body heat in the cold night. You should have been scared, part of you was, but part of you knew he could give you what you needed.

“You’re afraid of me.” Jefferson spoke the obvious, watching how your body shook millimeters away from his own. “Why are you here?”

“I am afraid of you.” You didn’t care to put on a façade, you were too tired, too scared, too confused. Too haunted by Jefferson’s face to sleep through the night. “But I keep having dreams and I need answers.”

“You still think they’re dreams.” Jefferson surveyed you while he unlocked the door. You let him wrap his hands around your wrist and pull you into his home.

There was dread when he slid the deadbolt back into place, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move. You let him guide you through the house and sit you on the couch. You watched him through a fog, but it felt so familiar. Flashes of your dreams came in and out of vision. The vase of flowers on the table were the same as the ones that bloomed in your dreams, the tea pot that had begun to whistle you swore was the one that Jefferson and Paige were playing with a few nights past. What sent a sick feeling into the pit of your stomach was the drawing on his mantle. It was of you and Paige, both sitting together in a rocking chair, smiling wide. The one that had been on the mantle when you dreamt of Jefferson and Regina.

You blinked when he sat in the chair opposite you, looking at you while he sipped steaming tea. It was hard to convince yourself you weren’t dreaming right now. But it was too real, you could hear your breathing, feel the chair beneath you, much as you wanted it was no dream. Jefferson didn’t speak, he just watched you sit in your own discomfort. Deciding to forgo the tea, you finally spoke up.

“Why can’t I stop dreaming about you?” It was the first time you admitted to anyone, even yourself that you couldn’t get him off your mind.

“I don’t think you’re dreaming.” Was all Jefferson had to say, looking smug and happy in his seat.

“No?” You asked him, not surprised that he wouldn’t even give you half an answer.

“No, you’re remembering.” He seemed to like watching your discomfort when he refused to elaborate.

“Can you give me something?!” Your voice rose, you hadn’t realized how close to losing it you were. Weeks of lifelike nightmares that led you to the house of the man that had been stalking you, and you were hardly making the best decisions. You realized you shouldn’t have come here. “What is all of this?” You gestured wildly to the flowers on the table, then to the drawing of you and Paige.

Jefferson sighed, seemingly unsatisfied by your questions. Instead, he stood and pulled you up with him, so that the two of you faced each other. It was as if he were looking through your soul, looking for some piece that you swore didn’t exist. Even though he couldn’t seem to find what he was looking for, he still leaned in closer.

When he kissed you, something happened. You weren’t sure what, but you felt that something had ripped you out of the dream you were walking through. Like you had been sleepwalking for years and now you were shocked back to life. As cliché as fairytale stories were, it felt like his kiss had woken something inside of you.

“Jefferson?” You reached up to touch his face, you didn’t understand how you could have forgotten it after all these years. how could you have forgotten your husband? Looking at him through new eyes you felt a sense of relief, of love, of comfort. Then came the pain.

“Alice.” He smiled against your lips, the recognition in your voice made his eyes prick with tears.

“You were, I was…” you stood still in shock.

“You were here, you were under a spell but you’re here.” Jefferson held you close to his chest and stroked your hair.

You couldn’t stop the tears as all the memories that were unlocked flooded back at once. Memories of Jefferson, of your daughter Grace, not Paige, of your home, the life you built together. When you closed your eyes, you could see where you belonged; your cottage, your garden, your living room filled with Grace and Jefferson’s laughter. You could remember swaying with Jefferson in the dining room to music you could hardly hear, chasing each other in the woods, collapsing into fits of laughter once you were caught.

You remember being pregnant, having Grace, knowing that you would do anything, anything in this world or any other to have your beautiful family by your side. You remembered Regina coming to talk to Jefferson, and that you warned him to stay away from her. The last thing you could think of before you opened your eyes in Storybrooke was tucking Grace into her bed with a quilt you sewed for her, telling her to have sweet dreams and that you and her father would wake her in the morning. You didn’t know how long it had been since you put her to bed, but it was far, far longer than the next morning.

At some point you started sobbing, so Jefferson sat you down on the couch and simply held you. He knew how it felt to remember. If he hadn’t seen it coming, felt the curse weakening, he never would have sought you out. He wasn’t going to force you to live with the awful memories of having your daughter ripped away. Jefferson couldn’t live with himself if he was the reason you had to look at Paige every single day and know she wasn’t really Paige, she was your daughter named Grace that you could never have back. But he felt it, he saw you begin to doubt yourself, felt the magic beginning to wane, slip away from Storybrooke through the leak Regina sprung.

Jefferson held your shaking body and placed a kiss on top of your head. It didn’t really matter now, what mattered now was that you were home.

#my writing #dark!ouat #jefferson ouat #jefferson x reader #ouat #jefferson fic

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