#there are REAL FUCKING TEARS IN MY EYES AT HOW BEAUTIFUL AT HOW WELL WRITTEN AT HOW ABSOLUTELY INCREDIBLE THIS POEM IS AND WILL REMAIN

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tsukishima kinks?

or choso kinks?

or aizawa kinks?

(sending a few options cause i’m sure you’ve already gotten these suggestions <3)

i've already got a tsukishima one i need to write but .... choso !!! aizawa !!! oh my god!!!! i've never written anything about either of them and i am sooo ready for this♡

choso

mommy/mummy kink- choso is a switch but leans more over towards sub. choso is very whiney in bed and is someone who becomes pussydrunk very easily when he's sleeping with you. during one of these pussydrunk moments he calls you mummy. he always has had the urge but resisted, worried that you won't like it but when he said it and you held onto him even tighter, wrapping your legs around him, a strangled groan came out of his mouth and he speeds up. as he comes he calls you mummy again, "gonna cum, gonna cum! fffuck mummy."

mutual masturbation- loves watching you touch yourself and will commit every gasp, touch and movement you make to memory for if he's ever alone for the weekend without you and most importantly for future reference with you, 'so touching her there makes her moan even louder huh' 'oh that made her toes curl' 'her body's shaking so much'.

choso loves watching your body writhe and squirm as you make yourself come while he's stroking his cock with rapt attention. he's inexperienced but his confidence about how good he is in bed gets boosted while mutually masturbating when you beg for more. beg for him. "please choso, please baby, i need more. want your cock s'bad. need you to touch me."

overstimulation- you milking him multiple times in succession without stopping?? yeah he likes that. he likes when you have control over his orgasms. he simultaneously wants more and wants less. bucking his hips up to meet your touch one second and the next trying to shuffle away, overwhelmed in the best way. tears filling his waterline, fists grabbing onto the sheets tightly. "t-to much!"

"i think you can take it cho"

edging- i mentioned before that he likes you having control of his orgasms so that also involves controlling when he gets to come and how many times you will deny him. "i can't anymore baby, please let me come. i've been good!"

aizawa

bondage- uses his binding cloth during sex!! tying you up in the bedroom and then leaving you there for awhile to do something else just to keep you waiting in anticipation. aizawa ties up your whole body and will also tie up just your arms and wrists on occasions too. he loves restricting your movements and watching you struggle against the binds. "there's no use struggling, you're not getting out until i want you too and before that i'm going to make you come on my tongue again."

daddy/sir kink- aizawa has an authorisation kink in general. loves taking charge and having you call him sir and daddy (sometimes even master) he will also sometimes call you kitten in response to your names for him. "sir please let me touch you! i'll be good! just let out of these binds."

choking kink- whenever he sees your eyes roll back and your breathing becoming gasps it makes him harder than he already was. his large hands wrapped around your throat, keeping you on the edge of consciousness. "so beautiful like that kitten, keep clenching around me."

somno- it's not a surprise that this is one of his kinks is it? all consensual of course but being woken up by you during sex is the best way to wake up. he also enjoys waking you up too but prefers it when he wakes up to you, especially when you're sucking his dick. his tired gravelly voice startling you as well as he gentle but firm hand on your head guiding you up and down. "fuck sweetheart, keep going just like that." you hum around his cock, letting you know you heard him. becoming wetter at the sound of his voice.

dry humping & thigh grinding- loves you being half clothed, only having underwear on, as you desperately hump and grind on him. it's a real power trip to watch you try and orgasm without any help as you frantically and pathetically rub yourself against him while he's still fully clothed and has no intention of changing that

[seungkw1]

safe haven — ljh

♡ pairing: neighbor!jihoon x fem!reader ♡ theme: fluff, hurt/comfort ♡ wc: 3.9k ♡ warnings: post-breakup dynamics, cheating (from ex), swearing, mentions of food ♡ a/n: written as part of the Winter with You collab put on by @camandemstudios - make sure to check out the full collab masterlist here!! give all these talented writers some love <3 and big thanks to @lovetaroandtaemin for beta reading!!

As if your fiancé leaving you for another woman wasn’t enough to make this the shittiest week of your life, now you’ve managed to lock yourself out of your house during an incoming blizzard. At least your next-door neighbor is home, and he’s kind enough to offer you shelter from the storm. You barely know Jihoon, only having spoken to him a few times - but soon, you discover you have more in common than you initially thought.

Five days ago, you made the innocent mistake of picking up your fiancé’s phone when you thought it was yours. You noticed immediately when you saw the lock screen - it was a photo of you and him from last December, posed in front of a Christmas tree, taken minutes after he proposed. In it, you’re smiling ear to ear, enthusiastically showing off the beautiful engagement ring he bought you. The photo has been his wallpaper ever since. “You look so happy,” he told you a couple months ago. “I can’t bring myself to change it.”

You go to set the phone back down, but a notification catches your eye. You take a closer look, discovering a string of WhatsApp messages, all from somebody named Kelsey. 

Huh, that’s weird, you think to yourself. I didn’t know he even used WhatsApp. 

Normally, you’d think nothing of it - but something feels off. You hesitate for a moment. You know each other’s passcodes for the sake of convenience; you’ve never felt the need to go through his phone, and you feel bad about even thinking about doing it. But, your gut is telling you to investigate.

You input the password and open the message thread. You’re not quite sure what you’re even looking for, but two seconds of scrolling tells you all you need to know. Dumbfounded, you read the particular message three more times before it sinks in: 

Can’t wait for our vacation next week baby, I really need to get away from all of this right now. 

Your stomach lurches as if you’ve just been punched in the gut. He told you he was going on a business trip next week. He told you that months ago. 

Get away from ‘all of this’? What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Does he mean… me???

Blood rushes through your ears as you read through the never-ending series of sexts, nudes, notes more romantic than anything he’s ever said to you before, an entire paper trail of all the times and locations of the evident affair - until you feel like you’re going to be sick. 

No, it’s not real. It can’t be. There’s no way…

Paralyzed, you stand there in disbelief, but as several more minutes of scrolling pass, it becomes clear that this is actually happening. Tears start to well in your eyes, but you quickly bottle it up, converting the energy into anger instead. You take the phone and march into his office to confront him - ready to shut him down when he tries to deny it. 

But, he doesn’t even try to deny it. He doesn’t even care.

“Well, it’s about time you found out anyway,” he tells you nonchalantly.

“Our wedding is in three months!! How fucking long were you going to wait to tell me??”

“I was gonna tell you soon, I just needed it to be the right time.”

“The right time??!! When is there a right time to dump your fiancé???”

“Listen, y/n-”

“Don’t tell me to fucking listen!!” you raise your voice at him. “In fact, don’t say anything else. Get the fuck out of my house.”

“You can’t tell me to get out, this is my house too,” he replies, with the sheer audacity to have a tone of annoyance in his voice.

“It’s MY name on the fucking papers. Get. Out.”

And so, he left. Didn’t even give you his set of keys back. Didn’t even say goodbye.

Now, you sit here parked in your driveway, the howling of harsh winter winds whistling over the melancholy tune playing loudly from the car radio. The volume is cranked all the way up, but despite your best efforts to drown out the outside world, the sharp whooshing sounds persist. Looks like the incoming storm is going to be as bad as predicted - if not worse. The blustering begins to jostle the whole vehicle. You stare aimlessly out the front windshield, watching chunks of snow flying erratically through the air as the winds pick up further. With a sigh, you turn the ignition off, the engine and radio going silent. If you're going to sit around moping, might as well do it inside where it's warm. You reach for the garage door remote clipped on the visor above you, but your hand only hits the soft padding. Right, you think to yourself, still gotta get that one replaced too. 

You drag yourself out of your car, hastily throwing your coat on and stumbling through the wind toward your front door. Flipping through your keys, something feels off. You look down, assuming your frozen fingers are just too stiff to pick out the correct one. You stare at the collection for several seconds, but your house key is not there. 

“What the fuck?” you mutter to yourself in confusion. Then, a horrible realization sets in: you never put your new key on the keyring after getting your locks changed. 

You brace yourself against the wind, trudging through the pile of snow accumulating in your front yard. As you reach the window, you lean over the bushes, peering through the partially-shut blinds into your kitchen to see a set of gold keys, sitting upon the center of the countertop. 

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Your stupid ex-fiancé isn’t even around anymore and he’s still finding new ways to make your life miserable. If he had just returned your damn keys, you wouldn’t be in this situation right now.

Tears start welling in your eyes - and this time, you surrender. The droplets begin to freeze on your face almost instantly, but you let yourself cry. After several minutes, you’re feeling slightly better - but you’re getting quite cold. You decide to head back to your car, at least turn the heat on while you try and figure out what to do, no need to stand here and get frostbite-

“Um, excuse me…”

You jump at the sound of the voice coming from behind you, whipping your head around to see a very bundled up man. You can’t see much of his face, but he looks to be in his late-twenties, with dark hair peeking out from under a thick beanie. It takes you a moment, but you realize it’s your next-door neighbor, Jihoon, whom you've met approximately once.

“I just wanted to check if you were okay,” he says loudly, doing his best to speak over the noisy wind. “You’ve been standing out here for a while.”

“Oh,” you reply, also speaking up. You wipe the tears off your cheeks with the back of your gloves. “Um, I’m kind of locked out of my house.”

“Is the lock frozen?”

“No- well actually, I don’t know, it might be, but I don’t have my key,” you explain, gesturing through the window. “It’s in there.”

“How did you manage to do that?” he inquires, not being condescending, but genuinely asking.

“The front door locks behind you when you leave.” 

“Ohhh. Well that’s no good.” He pauses for a moment, looking at you curiously, before continuing.

“Um, well I know you don't know me very well, but if you need a place to wait while you call somebody you are welcome to come in,” he tilts his head toward his house. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything, but it’s really dangerous to be out in this storm.”

Normally, you’d be standoffish to a man you barely know inviting you into his house - but, something about him tells you you can trust him. He looks and sounds sincere, and you really don’t have anywhere else to go. Plus, you’re fucking freezing. You nod at him.

“I would really appreciate that,” you shout over the wind. He nods back, gesturing for you to follow along. He walks with you to his front door, the both of you taking large steps to trek through the several inches of snow that has already accumulated. He turns the knob and ushers you inside, following quickly and shutting the door behind him. 

The sounds of the howling wind abruptly stop, the door creating a barricade between you and the heavy winter storm. Your ears ring slightly, but as you adjust to the quietness of indoors you pick up on a familiar tune playing from the other room. 

“Is that En Bateau I hear?” you ask as you unlace your boots. 

He’s in the middle of unwrapping his scarf from around his head, but he perks up at your question. “Yeah! You know Petite Suite?” 

“It’s one of my favorites,” you reply warmly as you take off your coat. You try to avoid letting the jacket’s heavy dusting of snow fall to the floor, without success. 

“Dammit, I got your floor all wet,” you inform him with a sigh. You realize you’re shivering - the house is warm, comfortably so, but standing out in the cold for however long you were out there certainly chilled you to your bones. He takes your coat from your hands, shaking off the rest of the snow before putting it on a hanger for you.

“Don’t even worry about it,” he tells you, grabbing a neatly folded towel from the closet and mopping up the mess. “There’s some blankets on the couch, you should warm yourself up.” 

The prospect of a nice cozy blanket sends you speedwalking into the living room. You spot the stack of blankets, also neatly folded, and grab the thickest one you see - it’s plush and velvety, dark red in color, and gigantic. You wrap the soft fleece around your whole body, plopping cross-legged onto the couch, practically turning yourself into a cocoon. Immediately you start to warm up, your poor frozen extremities finally relieved of the painful cold. As you defrost, your brain begins to work again, processing your surroundings. Though you’ve never been inside, your neighbor’s abode feels very homely - the decor is largely cream-colored, accented with warm earth tones, doused in low lighting sourced from a few lamps placed strategically around the room. Though a plain, warm white, the walls are flourished tastefully with various unique artworks - nothing you recognize, but all very pleasing to the eye. Not that your ex was a slob, but you’ve never known a man to be so neat and tasteful. Refreshing, you think to yourself.

You hear soft footsteps from behind you as Jihoon enters the room. You turn to see him bearing a glass of water, a piping hot mug, and a small metal tin. 

“I don’t know if you like tea,” he starts as he sets the beverages on the coffee table’s coasters. “But I thought you might want something warm to drink.”

“Tea sounds great, thank you so much,” you reply as you wiggle your arms out of the tangle of blanket surrounding you. Reaching for the tin, you pull out a bag of Earl Grey and place it in the mug to steep.

“It’s y/n, right?” he asks as he sits in a nearby armchair.

“That’s me,” you reply. “And you’re Jihoon, yes?”

He nods to confirm. “I know we met once a while ago,” he adds, “but I wasn’t sure if you remembered.”

"Of course I remember, I accidentally stole your packages,” you say with a laugh. “I felt bad about that for months.”

“No harm done, it was an honest mistake,” he replies with a calm smile. 

The tea is nowhere near ready, but you take a sip anyway. The hot liquid sends a wave of warmth through your whole body, making you instantly feel much better. Now that you’re not freezing and in tears, you can finally think straight, and you remember why you’re here in the first place.

“I should call the locksmith, god knows how long it’s gonna take them to get here in this storm,” you state as you look around for your phone, but it’s nowhere to be seen. 

“Oh, I think my phone is still in my bag.”

You start to get up, but Jihoon is faster.

“Here, I’ll grab it for you.”

He disappears from the room in an instant, returning a few moments later with your bag in hand. Thanking him politely, you rummage around for your phone until you find it. You open Google and type locksmith into the search, calling the first one you see with good reviews. 

“I’m sorry ma’am, due to the storm we aren’t able to send anyone out until tomorrow.”

You try another one, but it’s the same story. A third one, no luck either. Nobody is able to come out until tomorrow morning. Dejected, you go ahead and schedule an appointment for 7am the next day. You do your best to remain calm, but you’re too exhausted to hold in your tears.

“I don’t know what to do,” you say to Jihoon, burying your face with your hands.

“Hey,” he replies softly. “It’s gonna be okay. You can stay here as long as you need.” 

“I don’t want to be a bother,” you sigh.

“You’re not,” he assures you. “I promise. You’re welcome to take the guest room.”

“Are you sure?” you say with a sniffle, wiping the tears from your eyes.

“Of course,” he nods. 

“Thank you so much,” you tell him sincerely. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“No problem at all,” he says with a soft smile. “Also, are you hungry? I have some leftover stew I was going to heat up, if you’d like some.”

You didn’t even realize that you were hungry, but the mention of food makes your stomach rumble. 

“That sounds amazing,” you reply. 

Jihoon spends a few minutes in the kitchen, returning with two steaming bowls of a hearty-looking beef stew. 

“This is delicious,” you remark as you scoop another chunk of potato into your mouth. “I’m gonna need your recipe.”

“Oh, thank you,” Jihoon replies humbly. “I’m glad you like it.”

Several moments of silence pass between you two as you enjoy the meal, the music of Debussy’s piano filling the room in lieu of conversation. But instead of it being awkward, you feel peaceful, replenished from the food and the warmth of Jihoon’s home.

“Is there anything you want to watch?” he eventually turns to ask you. “I like having something on while I eat, but if not it’s okay.”

“Sounds good to me,” you reply. “What are you watching right now?”

“Oh, um, I like… anime,” he says sheepishly, turning slightly pink with embarrassment. “But we definitely don’t have to watch that. What do you like?”

“Have you seen The Great British Bake Off?” you respond. “It’s on Netflix.”

“Never heard of it,” he admits, but he already has the tv remote in hand, opening the app.

“I haven’t seen the new season yet, if you want to start there.”

“Will I understand it if I haven’t seen the other seasons?” he inquires, causing you to giggle.

“It’s a reality show, each season is different,” you fill him in, proceeding to explain the premise. He listens earnestly, but his facial expression tells you he is skeptical. 

“It’s really good, I promise!” you assure him.

“I don’t really get it,” he admits with a confused look on his face. “But if you say it’s good, I’ll take your word for it.”

He puts on the first episode, letting you explain the different challenges to him. About halfway through the episode, he turns to you.

“So… what exactly do they win?”

“A cake stand,” you answer. The look of bewilderment on his face makes you laugh again.

“So they don’t even get any money from it??”

“Nope,” you reply, cozying up under the blanket again. “That’s why it’s so wholesome.”

“Ah, okay,” he says, still unsure about the whole thing. But by the end of the first episode, he’s hooked.

“How do they do that??” he remarks at each contestant’s fanciful cake in the final challenge, his eyes glued to the tv. As soon as the credits start to roll, he clicks the Next Episode button.

“See? I told you it was good,” you say with a sleepy smile. The combination of the satisfying dinner, the warmth of the blanket, and the relaxing nature of the show is quickly making your eyelids turn heavy. You lean your head against the back of the couch, determined not to doze off - but within a few minutes, you are fast asleep.

The soft light of early dawn glows through your closed eyelids as you begin to awaken. You’re so warm and comfortable that you don’t even bother opening your eyes - instead you just lay there, relaxing under the blankets. As your brain slowly wakes, last night’s events start to register in your mind - you grimace as you recall the bitter cold of being stuck outside your own house, having a breakdown, feeling utterly helpless until-

Your eyes pop open. Sleepily adjusting to the morning light filtering in through the windows, you see that you’re still in Jihoon’s house, on the couch. You turn your face to see a pillow underneath your head that wasn’t there previously, and an extra knit blanket draped over the red fleece one that was already wrapped around you. Jihoon is nowhere in sight, presumably still asleep. You wonder what time it is - when suddenly you remember the locksmith appointment you made for 7am. Panicked, you bolt upright, searching for your phone amidst the blankets, until you spot it laying upon the coffee table, plugged into a charger that isn’t yours. You snatch it up, your heart sinking when you see the time: 7:34am.

“SHIT,” you grumble to yourself. You hurriedly unravel yourself from the tangle of blankets - it’s still warm in his house, but a chill hits you in the absence of the cozy covers. Sitting fully upright, you feel your feet bump something as they touch the carpet. Looking down, you spot a pair of slippers - light beige in color, women’s, brand new with the tags still on. For a moment you feel a bit weird about putting them on (Why does he have these, anyway?), but you’re cold, and at this point you don’t care. You slip them on, the comfort of the fluffy interior immediately making you  glad you did. They feel high quality - luxurious even, and now you feel nice and toasty. Rising from the couch, you grab the top blanket and wrap it around you. The inviting scent of coffee suddenly hits you - you follow it into the kitchen, where Jihoon stands before a brewing coffee pot. Noticing you have entered the room, he turns to greet you.

“Good morning,” he says warmly. He wears a pair of plaid pajama pants, seemingly with a matching top underneath a dark fleece quarter-zip. You note that he also has slippers on, not too dissimilar from the ones currently on your feet. As the coffee finishes brewing, he grabs two mugs, gesturing to you with one. 

“Would you like some coffee?”

“I’d love some,” you answer. He takes the pot and pours the piping hot beverage into your mug.

“Cream and sugar?” 

“Yes, please.”

He fixes your drink and hands you the steaming mug. You take a small, careful sip, your insides instantly warmed by the smooth brew.

“Delicious, thank you,” you tell him, taking another generous sip.

“Of course,” he nods.

“Guess I missed the locksmith,” you say with a sigh. “I should’ve thought to set an alarm before I passed out.”

He turns, reaching for something on the counter. Turning back, he extends his hand to you, your keys laying in his palm.

“Already taken care of,” he says with a smile.

“How did you…” Your words trail off as you take the keys, your fingertips lightly grazing his warm skin. 

“I met the locksmith and explained the situation,” he explains. “He picked the lock in like, one minute.” He gives you an apologetic look as he continues. “I’m sorry I went into your house without asking you first, I felt bad, but I didn’t want to have to wake you and drag you out into the cold.”

“Don’t apologize,” you reply, shaking your head quickly. “I really really appreciate it.”

“I’m glad I could help,” he tells you with a soft smile.

“Thank you for the pillow too,” you add. “And the slippers, glad you had these laying around,” you say with a grin. His smile fades slightly, glancing away for a moment. 

“They were supposed to be a gift,” he says as he looks at you again. “But I didn’t need them anymore. You can keep them.” He smiles, but despite trying to hide it, his tone is tinged with sadness.

“Oh,” you say softly. “You sure?”

He hesitates slightly, unsure whether to tell you.

“They were for my girlfriend, but she left me a couple weeks ago,” he admits. He looks down at his coffee, stirring it aimlessly with the spoon. A pang of sympathy hits you. 

“I’m sorry,” you say gently. “I unfortunately can relate. My fiancé left me five days ago, for another woman.”

He perks his head up slightly in surprise. “Oh wow, what an awful week this must be. I’m sorry, too.”

“Yeah, quite honestly, it fucking sucks,” you say, staring off into space a bit. 

“I was about to propose,” he adds, unsure exactly why he’s telling you this. But you both are feeling a newfound, unspoken kinship in your aligned misfortunes. “But one day she just told me she didn’t love me anymore.”

“Jesus, that’s terrible, I’m so sorry,” you empathize. “I found out my fiancé was cheating on me and confronted him. He didn’t even give a shit so I kicked him out, haven’t seen or heard from him since.”

“Wow,” Jihoon says with wide eyes. He lets out a sigh. “I had already bought a ring, too. She didn’t know, but I had the whole proposal planned out.” He shrugs, shaking his head. “I guess it’s for the better that she left before I even bothered.”

“Yeah, doesn’t make it any less painful though.”

“Definitely not. And I wasn’t even able to return the ring.” He laughs, letting out an incredulous huff. 

“Oh my god,” you react in bewilderment. 

“It’s alright,” he says calmly. “Maybe I’ll be able to use it someday.”

His eyes linger on you slightly too long as the words roll off his tongue. The moment is brief, fleeting - but it’s enough for you to notice. 

“Would you like any more coffee?” he asks before you can fully process anything, nudging the pot in your direction.

“I’m alright, thank you,” you reply, finishing the last bit in your mug. 

“Here, I’ll take it.” 

“I better get going, now that I can actually get into my house,” you announce with a smile. “I’ll get out of your hair.”

“You weren’t a bother at all,” he assures you. “But I’m sure you’re dying to go home.”

Jihoon walks to his entryway. He gathers your things for you, taking your coat from the closet and helping you into it.

“I truly can’t thank you enough,” you tell him sincerely. “You really saved my ass.”

He smiles at you. “You’re very welcome. It was nice to finally properly meet you, y/n.”

He hands you something as he opens the door for you. You take it - it’s a blue sticky note, with his name and phone number written neatly on it.

“You can always call me if you need anything at all.”

“Thank you,” you smile warmly, folding the note and tucking it safely into your pocket. “I will.”

[sserpente]

A/N: Request from anon and some of my own ideas that had to be written down because Loki demanded it. This is technically Part II to this Imagine!

Words: 2492 Warnings: implied smut, biting

Your hair was still wet when you got out of the water, your back numb from the gushing waterfall Loki had kept you pressed against while fucking the life out of you and you were sprawled out on the blanket. Loki conjured a soft towel for you both to dry off and afterward, you ended up leaning against his chest as he fed you some of the grapes and read you passages of the book he had brought. It didn’t matter you couldn’t understand Old Norse—his voice was mesmerising either way and certainly the best form of aftercare you’d ever had.

Hours must have gone by. Hours filled with even more sex, passion, and some of the most profound conversations you had had in a while.

But once the sun began to set and the lagoon got darker and darker, Loki stirred and you, much to your dismay, decided to return to the palace through the stables to go unnoticed.

“Thor will decapitate me.”

“As if you care what Thor thinks,” you said, chuckling.

Loki smirked. “I don’t. But I do quite fancy my head, pet.”

Pet. There it was again. Before your mind could swoon over his new nickname for you, you were interrupted by a cute and boyish voice the very moment you entered the stables.

“Prince Loki! Shall I prepare your horse for you?”

The stable boy emerged from behind a wooden wall carrying a pitchfork. He was sweaty from the manual labour and his clothes were filthy from working with the horses. He was cute though. You could tell he had a heart for animals straight away.

“No need, Edri. I’m just passing through. Avoiding attention, you understand.”

“Of c—oh. You brought company. Oh…” He paused, blushing. “You brought beautiful company.”

You smiled at him but not without noticing how Loki tensed up right next to you. His arm came up to wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to make a statement. Edri immediately cleared his throat and forcefully ripped his gaze away from you.

“Well then… I haven’t seen either of you, my prince.”

“Thank you.”

“Loki? Can I see your horse?”

“I’ve just fed her. She’s right over there?” Edri offered before he could answer.

Loki gave you a smirk and a defeated sigh. “Very well.”

The experience did not disappoint. After Edri led you into one of the boxes, you were greeted by one of the most beautiful black mares you had ever laid your eyes upon. She seemed friendly—and she immediately let you touch her and even neighed in delight when Edri slid you an apple to feed to her.

“What’s her name?”

“Skelmir—it’s Old Norse for Trickster,” Loki answered.

You chuckled. “So she’s as mischievous as you then?”

“Occasionally.” He winked.

“She likes you. Skelmir is one of the shyer horses around here,” Edri explained. “Animals can tell if one has a good heart.” His gaze was soft and gentle—and it lingered long enough to make Loki seethe, it seemed.

“We should head inside now. Shall we? Edri.” His voice was stern and you chuckled once more, realising with a start that Loki was jealous the stable boy was flirting with you. There was no real danger here, of course—he was cute but it was Loki who had stolen your heart. But you were flattered. The fact that he was jealous meant he cared, right?

You nodded, tearing your mesmerised glance off of Skelmir, and followed Loki back into the palace. Not even a moment later, an aggressive voice echoed through the palace walls.

“Loki!”

Loki sighed. “What?”

You both turned, facing a fuming Thor.

“Where were you two? The entire palace was looking for you!” The God of Thunder spoke your name reproachfully. “You were supposed to remain supervised, Father said—“

“I was supervised,” you offered.

“By Loki! There is a reason we have asked you to stay away from him.”

“Oh, please.” What’s the worst thing I could do? Sleep with him? You grinned at your thought.

“Where did you even go? Why is your hair wet?”

Neither of you answered and Thor sighed. “Well, what’s done is done, I just hope Loki didn’t twist your head with his nonsense too much.” Your grin grew even wider—and Loki joined in. Part of you wanted to tell Thor, just to see his reaction but perhaps for now, it was for the best not to tell him that you had quite literally fucked the God of Mischief.

“We’re having a midsummer celebration in the throne room tonight. Everybody is welcome.”

You turned to Loki. “What’s that gonna be like?”

“Drinking, dancing, eating, and karaoke. Surprisingly, it’s not too different from celebrations on Midgard.”

“Karaoke? On Asgard? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Well, I’d dare assume the songs we sing are nothing like what you are used to from Midgard but essentially, the concept is the same.”

“I won’t miss that then. But only if you get up there and sing too,” you teased, grinning at him. Thor tilted his head in confusion, clearly not used to somebody being all flirty with his adopted brother.

“I’ll have a maid sent to the guest chambers to dress you for the occasion,” Loki said. And with that, and perhaps to not raise even more suspicion in Thor, he walked off with a final wink.

You didn’t realise how hungry you were until the maid came knocking on your door about an hour later, a selection of dresses in her hands—the decision was quickly made to wear the green one she had brought. It took her half an hour to get your still a little damp hair situated before finally, she escorted you to the throne room that had transformed into what could only be described as a food hall.

Your eyes scanned the room and you smiled awkwardly when Volstagg waved at you.

“Looking for someone in particular?” Loki offered, appearing behind you. Your heart skipped a beat and you spun around, joining him at the table he led you to. The other people chatting away and drinking there you did not recognise but that wasn’t important. Not even the fact that Volstagg and the others looked downright shocked upon you choosing to sit with Loki rather than with them mattered.

“You look beautiful, pet. One could mistake you for an Asgardian.”

“Thank you. I’ll blend in then. Is that the stage for the karaoke?” You pointed at an elevated platform next to the throne.

“It is indeed,” Loki said while a maid came by to pour you drinks.

“I don’t see a microphone.”

“You don’t need one. The stage is enhanced with magic. Once you step on it, your voice will be heard across the entire throne room.”

You clinked your glasses and then, the celebrations began.

You got tipsy fast, the Asgardian mead messing with your mind only one drink in. Loki needed a few more to let go. You learned from one of the men sitting at the table with you that Loki used to be the most hedonistic party guest one could possibly invite to a celebration.

You did not doubt it—because after a few more drinks, Loki stumbled on stage and sang an Old Norse song. He even changed to lyrics of the chorus to English so you could sing, clap and dance along and just for once, it seemed, all was well.

No one was judging him for attempting to take over Earth but rather for how much mead he’d already downed. You’d possibly never had this much fun in your life. And even though you’d refrained from singing a song yourself, you soon found yourself in Loki’s arms, dancing like there was no tomorrow.

The sexual tension between you grew with every beat until eventually, the God of Mischief leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Let me take you to my chambers, pet.”

You nodded with wide eyes, unable to ignore the wanton pulsing between your legs. Next thing you knew, you were on Loki’s bed on his armchair in his chambers, kissing him senseless.

“Loki…” you mumbled against his lips. “I wanna…” Another kiss, leaving you breathless.

“Wanna suck you off…” you choked out. Loki pulled away for a moment, surprise evident on his gorgeous face. He tilted his head with parted lips.

“You truly are the most peculiar mortal I have ever met.”

You grinned. “Would you say I’m also the most endearing one?”

Fuck, you felt like a teenager again. Loki and you spent half the night making out, exploring each other’s bodies, and coaxing orgasm after orgasm out of one another. By morning, he was familiar with every square inch of your skin and the soreness between your legs… it spoke for itself when you opened your eyes in his chambers when the sun was up again, naked, satisfied, and happy. Heavens, you’d spent the night making love to a god, after all! Life couldn’t get any better than that… right?

You rolled over, briefly distracted by a stinging pain in your neck. Ouch. Loki had gotten quite rough at some point last night, attacking your sensitive skin with his teeth and sucking and nibbling wherever his mouth had landed on.

“Good morning, pet…” Loki purred.

You smiled sleepily. “Good morning.” You sighed. “I want to spend the entire day in bed,” you stated. But then, your stomach growled.

Loki chuckled. “I’d dare say your body disagrees and needs sustenance after all the… activities last night.”

Reluctantly, you got out of bed. He was not wrong. You were starving. You walked over to the mirror naked, examining the hickeys he gave you last night. The one on your neck wasn’t a hickey though. It was an actual bite mark.

“Shit, Loki, I had no idea you’d be so kinky in bed.” You chuckled, practically admiring it. Loki came up behind you, his hands stroking over your upper arms as his blue gaze crossed yours in the reflection.

“Does it hurt?”

“Not more than hickey, surprisingly. I suppose you don’t have make-up here to cover this up though? That’d be easier than explaining to the rest of Asgard why the Earth girl suddenly has a bite mark on her neck.”

Loki waved his hand and the bruise disappeared. “Wait, did you…”

“It’s still there. I’ve concealed it. We can head to the healing room once you’re dressed.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Loki!”

The banging on the door that followed had the God of Mischief sigh.

“Loki, I know you’re in there! There’s someone here to see you. You have a lot of explaining to do, brother!”

Loki frowned.

“Who?” you asked quietly.

“I don’t know. I don’t normally get visitors from other realms. At least none that announce themselves officially and march straight through the palace doors. Get dressed, pet. I shall take you to the healing room right after.”

You nodded, putting on the clothes he conjured for you, and gave your hair a quick brush before you followed him outside, making sure that nobody saw you leaving his chambers. You made your way through sun-kissed hallways. It was a beautiful morning and you could already smell the Asgardian delicacies waiting to fill your tummy.

Still, you were curious about who Loki’s mysterious and unannounced visitor was. So you joined him, pushing the thought of breakfast to the back of your mind for now. In sight came a blonde woman with a suit of armour very similar to Loki’s, a guard right next to her to ensure she didn’t pose a threat.

“Who is that?” you whispered.

Loki swallowed thickly, his lips parted. His voice was a mix of relief and surprise. “That… Sylvie.”

“Your Asgard doesn’t look too different from mine, actually,” she said by way of a greeting.

“What are you doing here?”

“What, are you not happy to see me?” she mocked. Loki pulled her into an embrace. You felt a twang of jealousy inside of you.

“I’m glad to see you’re okay. Come in. And tell me what you’ve been up to. Have you heard from Mobius?”

“Not yet. Communication is a bit brittle across time and space. I have a lead on Renslayer though. You won’t like to hear it but she was last seen with Kang.”

“Great. So that’s another problem on our growing list.”

“Who’s that?” Sylvie nodded toward you and all of a sudden, you felt self-conscious about yourself. You lifted your chin in a feeble attempt to feign confidence.

You told her your name before Loki could answer, followed by a quick explanation as to why you were here. “And who exactly are you?” you asked then.

“She’s… me,” Loki answered for her. “Well, not exactly me but one of my Variants—from another corner of the multiverse, if you will.”

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Sometimes I wish I was, pet.”

“Pet? What’s going on?” Sylvie scanned your form—then, her eyes fell on your neck. “Is that… You idiot! You marked her?”

You frowned. How could she even see it? But you supposed that if she was a Loki, then she was able to see right through his concealment. “What? What does that mean?”

“She’s human, Loki! It’s a miracle she’s even alive!”

Loki glared at her, daring her to keep speaking all the while your confusion kept growing. Marked you? What the hell was that supposed to mean?

“Can we speak about this in private? Preferably where not the entire palace can hear us?”

“Loki, what does she mean?”

“The bite mark of a Frost Giant,” Sylvie explained coldly, “it’s like a magical seal that signifies a partnership between two Frost Giants.”

“So… what… does that mean I have magic in my veins right now?”

Sylvie ignored you. “What were you thinking, Loki?”

“I was drunk!”

“Of course you were.”

“Oh, don’t think for a second I wouldn’t have done this had I not been. She’s fine.”

Just this morning, you had asked yourself what exactly Loki and you were. Calling him your boyfriend seemed inappropriate but quite apparently, you now had an answer to your question. Partner.

Loki did not seem like the type of person who would sleep with just anyone. Having fun and giving pleasure was one thing but even then… the God of Mischief surely was selective with his lovers. You bit your lower lip. You hadn’t known about the meaning of this bite mark but you couldn’t say you minded it. If that was his way of making you his, you’d receive it with open arms. You could only imagine the exciting kind of future you’d have with Loki—even if it would take a while to convince whoever this Sylvie was that just because you were human, that didn’t mean you’d let anyone mess with you or keep you away from the cheeky God of Mischief.

A/N: Come check out my blog if you like for more Imagines and my novels! ♥

[amymbona]

1950s Patrick is cool, but imagine how tragic the story of 1940s Patrick is...

The war started and he is taken into the army, you cry and are afraid of losing your wonderful beloved husband. You can never be sure whether he will live or not, but can only believe and hope that at least he will remain alive, not to mention the injuries both physical and psychological, since war does not spare anyone. You spend your last night of love with him, whispering to him how much you love him and that you won't let him die. Maybe the conversation will even get to the baby, about how they want a baby and what you would name the baby after him. Patrick or Patricia :)) When a tear runs down cheek, he comforts you, says that he loves you, that he will never die and leave you alone. You end up falling asleep hugging him, and you look at him for the last time, knowing that tomorrow he will leave. In the morning you see him off, constantly kissing and hugging him the whole way, 'cause you understand that this is the only chance to be satiated with his love and adoration. You wave your handkerchief at him, shedding a tear, and here he is, leaving. All that remains is to believe that his service will be easier than others and that he will return to their home with the same wonderful smile and bright, shining eyes that you fell in love with.

Every time I realize that I'm a damn director, not a screenwriter. Give me my lovely screenwriter!!!

I haven't written to you for a long time, girlie. Amy, how are you?! What's up? 🤗🤗

- 🐦‍⬛

I'm gonna give you a blow job for this one, little bird. How am I doing? After reading this? Absolutely fucking wonderful.

One thing people must know about me is that I love angst and THIS..... 🫦🫦🫦 SO SO SO GOOD!

Imagine Patrick somewhere in the trench, the sun is falling down and he's shivering, purple bruises on his cheeks, his hair a complete mess. Unwashed, starving, the lack of sleep and warmth is very much evident in the way he's shivering but by some miracle, he hasn't gone crazy yet.

Perhaps it's the image of your beautiful face that he keeps in his pocket, a little photograph he has torn out of your family memory book that you keep in the living room, just to have you with himself at all times. All the men in his troop know about you, know your name and age and what flowers you like, that you love to dance to Glenn Miller's songs and wear the prettiest dresses. Patrick keeps talking about you nonstop.

And currently, he's writing a letter to you, one that he's been writing for the past there weeks and he honestly has no idea if his writings are ever gonna be seen by your eyes. Patrick is desperate to remain in contact with you, but he knows that even if all the letters would remain stuffed in his pocket, you'll know damn well what messages he is attempting to send you.

Luckily, through some begging and mutual contacts, he manages to give the letter to some guy. Patrick kisses it a thousand of times, hoping you'll get a whiff of his scent, even though he smells like dirt and piss.

My darling,

I miss you dearly and I miss you every day. Remember how I told you Remarque was a stupid fool? How I couldn't believe a single word from his book? This place is worse than All quiet on the western front, it's worse than hell itself.

Every day I thank myself for taking that little picture of your beautiful face to look at. It keeps me sane, I think, and I look at it more than I used to look at your real face. Forgive me it I've ever made you cry, my love. I cry every night.

Don't waste your words asking me how I'm doing, write about your days instead. Are you doing all alright? Are you keeping the place clean and that stray dog that keeps sneaking into our garden well fed? Has your mother's flu been treated and is she feeling better?

Please, darling, spray your perfume on the paper when you write me a response. Use the whole bottle it you feel like it's not enough. I just need to feel you somehow. If you can and find away, send me some food. Anything. In cans, preferably. Me and the boys are starving. They want to meet you when we're all back home. I talk about you and our memories every night.

I will be missing you until my heart stops beating.

Yours, Patrick

[kandisheek]

FIC REC WEEK 25 - KIDFIC

Play Date by Akira_of_the_Twilight

Pairing: Bucky/Tony Rating: T Words: 27,186 Tags: De-Aged Tony, Domestic Avengers, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting

Summary: “Forgive me, Captain," FRIDAY said. "I needed a moment to be certain I hadn’t erred, but based on my facial recognition systems, I can safely say that Mr. Barnes and Mr. Wilson have located Tony.” “What the fuck?” Bucky rose to his feet. The kid tried to run, but Sam caught the rugrat and restrained him. “Let me go!” The kid struggled. “My dad isn’t going to pay any ransom. You’re just wasting your time.” Ransom? Facial recognition? Bucky stared at the kid—really looked at his face. Amber eyes, oval face, olive skin, strong but narrow chin, a slightly larger than normal forehead, and a nose somewhere between small and medium in size. “Oh, fuck. Tony?” The tears were back in Tony’s eyes. “Fuck you, you assholes!” He wiggled one arm free and punched Sam in the kneecap.

Reasons why I love it: It's a Winteriron weddiiiiing! I love the team feels in this fic, and kid Tony's hero worship for Steve is so fucking cute. The way he reacts to Bucky at first but slowly comes to trust him is so satisfying to read because it feels completely organic. And Tony's whole backstory with Howard just tears at my heartstrings. Generally, this fic is super well-written, especially the dialogue. I love it so much, and I bet you will too, so go ahead and read it!

Childhood is the Kingdom Where Nobody Dies by MemoryDragon

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: M Words: 31,765 Tags: De-Aged Tony, Missions, Avengers Family

Summary: Seven-year-old Tony Stark wakes up on a Hydra base, lost, afraid, and alone. He has to overcome his fears before it's too late for the Avengers and Captain America.

Reasons why I love it: The team is so fucking adorable in how they handle Tony. And of course, even when he's de-aged, Tony is a BAMF genius. I especially loved the scene with Coulson and the suits, it's so subtle and yet so impactful. And the aftermath of the mission is so charged with emotion that it stuck with me for a while after I finished the fic. It's incredible, and I hope you give it a shot, if you haven't read it already!

Treading Desire Lines by fohatic

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 43,749 Tags: Selectively Mute Morgan, Post-Canon Fix-It, Babysitter Steve

Summary: Tony knows that his daughter can be difficult, but he really needs someone to do him a solid when an important opportunity arises. Unfortunately, word is already out: Morgan Stark is a real handful. Never one to shrink from a challenge, Steve steps in, hoping to shift the strained dynamic between him and Tony and having no idea how the course of his life is about to change.

Reasons why I love it: Oh my god, Steve is such husband material in this one. I love the whole set-up with Morgan, and the way Steve handles her is just fantastic. The trust that grows between them is nothing short of beautiful. And how it all leads into Steve and Tony mending their bridges is so sweet. I love this fic so much, and I bet you will too!

[bazthefirstborn]

Please, sub Ayaka with male reader, that is all I need in my life time. All the posts I see are fem reader

love this idea!!!! ayaka is the beloved <333

Sub Ayaka x Dom AMAB reader!

hc's and a mini fic at the end hehe hope this feeds the ayaka lovers

a/n: head over heels by tears for fears came on while I was writing this and I feel like that's appropriate

haven't written for real in a while, kind of rusty, hopefully this is ok anon <333

(notice the blue banner bc ayaya) very proud of that

tags: dom!male reader, lingerie, fingering, p in v, praise, porn with plot, yuckily romantic, like cavity rotting sweet smut bc I'm going soft

smut under the cut minors dni!!!

hc's first:

she deserves the absolute best

get her all sorts of little gifts

loves lingerie sets! especially the cute lacy ones

is very embarrassed constantly but especially when you finger her

turns beet red at the sight of you

the first time she sucks you off she's constantly looking at you like a lost puppy

praise praise praise!!!!! tell her how good she's doing and how perfect she is!!!!!

calling her pretty girl and tell her she's doing good and she could cum

lives for temperature play

will cry when you eat her out also

please go slow with her!

always has to hold your hand when you fuck <333

a super duper romantic at heart <3

fic time hehe

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ayaka was always busy. Being part of the Yashiro Commission and having so much work to do, she barely has any time to spend with you.

So, when you get home, stressed from a busy day at work, all you want to do is spend the rare free weekend you both have with her.

So, when you walk in the door and she's not waiting for you, a lot goes through your head. Could she still be at work? Did she get more papers to fill out? More festival prep? Maybe she fell asleep at her desk?

"Ayaka? I'm home!"

you hear a quiet voice, but it's unmistakably her.

"I'm in here, my love..."

She sounded nervous, and you get confused. Why is she nervous? Did something happen? So, you walk through the bedroom door and...

You drop everything in your hands. Your eyes go wide. There's your Ayaka, standing next to your shared bed, in a beautiful baby blue lingerie set you'd bought her. She was clearly nervous, har arms crossed over her chest, biting her lip, and refusing to look at you.

You struggle to think of works, mind blank. Only able to take in the sight in front of you.

"Oh my god... Ayaka... you look.."

"How bad is it?"

She's staring at her feet now, refusing to look in your direction.

"Darling you look amazing!"

she's blushing furiously now.

"You... you think so?"

At a loss for words, the only thing you can do is rush over to her, pulling the flustered woman into a desperate kiss. She's surprised, eyes wide, before she closes them and kisses you back, placing her hands in your hair. It feels like hours before you part for air, both breathing heavy and significantly redder.

"What brought this on?" Were the first words that left your mouth, eyes roving over her body appreciatively, attempting to commit the sight before you to memory.

"Well I- You were so busy and... I wanted to give you a gift... It's stupid I know but-"

"Ayaka, my love, you're the best thing that has ever happened to me! There's nothing stupid about this. I love it, really!"

She looks like she could cry. Her shoulders drop. She's relieved, clearly, but there's something else swirling in her eyes now. She's... aroused?

"Th- thank you... I'm glad you... like it."

She's the one to grab you now, pulling you by the collar down to the bed, bringing you down on top of her. She hurriedly starts unbuttoning your shirt, before moving on to your pants and belt.

You're left in your boxers. She's staring now, almost drooling at your hardness. She looks like she's anticipating something.

"Do you want to take these off of me Darling?"

She's as red as a tomato now. When she reaches down, her hands are shaking. You take her hands in yours and guide them off.

Now, she clearly is drooling at you. You look down and see the damp spot in her panties getting darker, so you move to take them off when she says, "I- I already... prepped."

You look at her, thinking you must have heard her wrong, something, when she looks at you and moves them aside herself. There it is. A plug, nestled inside her.

Oh. Oh. Oh my God.

You're clearly at a loss when she puts your hand a little closer to where she needs it. "Please... I've been waiting nearly all day for this..."

Still not speaking, you slowly pull the plug out, eliciting a long moan out of her. "God, please, I need you so bad... Please, Love, please!"

Grinning now, you feel the need to tease her a bit.

"What is it that you need Ayaka? I need words."

Her lower lip is practically raw from how much she's bitten it. She looks away, but you grab her chin and force her to look up at you.

"I- I need you... I need your cock... Please- Please give it to me."

She's going to be the death of you.

You slip inside easily, but somehow, it's anything but easy to you. Just seeing her face, all blissed out, even before you've moved, could have you cumming like a teenager. Even more so when she pushes her ass into you, trying to get you deeper.

"Please... I need you!" She's whining desperately now, tears forming at her waterline.

"You have me."

---

this was fun to write hopefully it isn't too rusty lol hope you enjoyed!!! I love getting asks plz send some in!!!!

[dawninlatin]

Crying in the IKEA parking lot

a feysand modern au one shot written for @officialfeysandweek2023

Feyre is having an emotional breakdown in the IKEA parking lot, but luckily a handsome stranger comes to her rescue

Words: 2,2k | Masterlist | AO3 Link

Feyre had experienced many low points in her twenty-two years, but crying in the parking lot of IKEA had to be one of the lowest.

To be fair, she was having a pretty shit day, a shit year, even, but that didn’t make her feel any better as she stared at the scratch on the shiny, expensive-looking car parked next to hers.

A scratch that was one hundred percent her fault.

She let out a pathetic sob as her mind replayed the moment when she’d been too busy cursing at the furniture she couldn’t fit in her trunk to notice that her cart was rolling away from her, straight into the other car.

There was no way she could afford to pay for the repair, especially not now, when she’d just spent the little money she had on a dining table and a single chair for her mostly empty apartment.

Feyre gave the package still sitting on the ground a kick in frustration. «Fucking useless piece of shit!»

«Are you okay? Do you perhaps need any help with that…?»

The voice startled her, and Feyre whirled around, suddenly facing the most beautiful man she had ever seen. He looked at her with a mix of concern and curiosity, his eyes so blue they almost seemed violet.

«I’m fine,» Feyre answered a little too quickly, plastering on a fake smile and pretending her face wasn’t all puffy and red. She’d gotten so used to telling this lie lately, it came on autopilot.

Unfortunately, the stranger wasn’t a complete idiot, and didn’t buy her lie. The few tears still running down her cheeks probably didn’t help either. «So crying in the middle of a parking lot is just something you do for fun?» The question was accompanied by a perfectly raised eyebrow. 

Smile dropping, Feyre replied, «No, it’s just-»

And that’s all it took for the floodgates to open once more. 

«I’ve had a really shitty time lately, and I just needed to get a table because I don’t wanna eat every meal sitting on the floor for the rest of my life, but then I came out here and I can’t get the fucking box in my car and then I accidentally scratched the car next to mine and I know I should be the better person here and leave a note but there is no way I can afford to pay for it to be repaired!» She was full-on sobbing again, choking out the words. 

When she’d managed to calm down a little, the crying reduced to sniffling, she looked up, surprised to find that the man still stood there. Feyre had expected her little mental breakdown to scare away the stranger, he’d only asked if she needed help, after all, but there he was, offering her a soft smile and a tissue. «So a really shitty day then?»

«Yeah,» Feyre replied weakly, wiping her tears.

«I wouldn’t worry too much about the car, though.»

«Why?» 

He smirked, and it made Feyre want to kiss his handsome face and punch it at the same time. She really should see a therapist or something. «Because if they can afford a car like that, the asshole can probably afford a repair as well.»

This time, when Feyre smiled, it was real. It felt good, after all this time.

«So, did you need any help?» the guy asked, gesturing towards the package still on the ground.

Feyre had barely nodded before he strode over, and in a single, seemingly effortless move lifted it into her car. It annoyed her to no end, but she was also grateful, because it meant she could get out of here and forget this completely mortifying experience ever happened.

«Thanks, uhm…» She didn’t even know his name, she realized.

«Rhysand, though my friends call me Rhys,» he offered, grinning.

His name was Rhys, and he had dimples. How was it possible to be this attractive?

«I’m Feyre,» she replied, completely cool, calm and collected…probably.

«Well, it was nice meeting you, Feyre, darling. I have to go and brave the hell that is IKEA to get something for my stupid cousin, but I hope the rest of your day is better!»

Feyre actually chuckled this time, giving him a wave and a «Good luck!» as he walked away. She watched him in a totally non-creepy way until he’d fully disappeared into the large store, relishing the way she felt kinda good right now. One encounter with a kind human didn’t fix all her problems, but it gave her back some of the faith she’d lost in humanity long ago.

Still smiling, Feyre got into the driver’s seat, but she didn’t start the car. Instead, her attention was pulled to the passenger seat, and the abandoned sketchbook that’d been lying there for months now.

She sucked in a sharp breath at the sudden urge to draw again. The familiar itching in her hands could have brought her to tears if she’d had any left. Maybe she actually could feel like herself again, someday in the future…

Glancing at the car next to hers, Feyre contemplated her choices. There was no way she could afford the repair bill, but no matter how she thought about it, the only right thing to do was choose kindness. What if the rich asshole was having an equally shit day?

That didn’t mean Feyre couldn’t make them feel as sorry for her as possible, though. Maybe if they knew what a mess she was, it would get her out of paying.

So she rummaged around in her car until she found a pencil, then she picked up her sketchbook and started drawing for the first time in months.

-

Feyre groaned for what had to be the hundredth time as she struggled to assemble the table. Wasn’t this supposed to be easy?!

She knew she should just go to bed and try again in the morning, but she wanted to do this, wanted to show the universe she could manage on her own.

Who knew leaving your abusive ex when you had no job, no education, no friends and no contact with your family would be so difficult?

Just when Feyre was about to give up, her phone suddenly chimed, alerting her of a new text.

Anxiously, she picked up the phone, her stomach flipping as she read the text from an unknown number.

Is this Feyre Archeron?

It had to be the owner of the car, Feyre thought. After all, she’d ended up leaving a rather creative note describing what had happened, signed with her full name and number.

The note had consisted of eight comic panels, first showing an overly animated Feyre looking miserable in her empty apartment, then her looking miserable in IKEA, her emptying her pockets at the register, then swearing as she tries to get the package into her car. Next featured a few panels very dramatically portraying how the cart had rolled into the car completely on it’s own, ending with Feyre drowning all of IKEA in her tears.

To be honest, she was kind of proud of it.

Chewing her lip, Feyre typed back a simple «Yes».

Mere seconds later, it started ringing, that same number appearing on the screen. She nearly dropped it in panic, and honestly wanted to just chuck it out the window. She did not want to buy a new phone though, especially not if she had to spend thousands on repairing an ugly-ass car that wasn’t even hers.

Hands shaking, she pressed reply, bringing the phone to her ear. «Hello?»

«That comic is the best thing I’ve ever seen. I’m seriously gonna frame it and hang it on my wall.»

Feyre’s heart promptly stopped as she heard the deep, silky voice. She would recognize it anywhere, if only from the things it did to her body.

«Rhys?!» she choked out.

«I told you to not worry about the car.» She could hear the smirk in his voice, and for some reason it filled her with rage.

«That was your car?! Why the hell didn’t you say so? I made a complete fool of myself in front of you-»

«No you didn’t,» Rhys interrupted her. «And I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to stress you out even more. I’m sorry if that was wrong of me.»

Well, that was awfully…charming of him. Feyre didn’t know what to do with all these feelings swirling inside her. Especially not after living on autopilot for so long.

«Just tell me how much I owe you,» Feyre sighed. 

«How about you let me help you build that furniture, and we’ll call it even?»

«What? That’s ridiculous!» There had to be something seriously wrong with this guy, if he thought getting to help her with her furniture would make them even.

«Text me your address, and I’ll be there in thirty. With pizza.» 

And then he just hung up.

-

Exactly thirty minutes later, Feyre opened her front door to find Rhys on the other side, pizza in hand and a panty-dropping smile on his face. «Hello, Feyre, darling.»

«Ugh, just get in.» She was too hungry to bother with pleasantries. 

He followed her into the kitchen area, setting the pizza on the counter. Feyre busied herself with getting a glass of water, trying to not let her embarrassment show as he took in the space. She really hadn’t been kidding when she’d said it was all empty.

Well, apart from the still-not-assembled table.

When she looked up, though, he was looking at her, not the empty space. 

«Just so we’re clear, I have no ulterior motives in doing this,» Rhys spoke, all serious. His gaze so intense she couldn’t look away.

«I’m not gonna deny that I find you very attractive, and I would love to take you on a date some day, but right now, what I think we both need the most, is a friend.» 

Her chest ached at the pain she glimpsed in his violet eyes, a fellow lost soul. Maybe he was just as lonely, just as broken, despite the easy smiles? Feyre smiled faintly, thinking that she wouldn’t mind a friend right now.

Then Rhys opened his mouth again, and the moment was ruined. «And we both know you find me incredibly handsome because duh,» he gestured to his face, and Feyre scowled, flipping him off.

«Are you even qualified to build furniture?» Feyre asked, all serious. If he turned out to be excellent at this she would lose it.

«Are you kidding me? My great-great-grandfather was Swedish. I’ll show you my family tree to prove it.»

«You’re such a prick!» Feyre exclaimed, smacking his arm, but she was laughing as she did it.

This was gonna end in disaster.

-

«You’re even worse at this than I am!»

«I swear, there has to be something wrong with this table!»

The puzzled expression on Rhys’ face as he sat with the final leg of the table in his hand and seemingly no where to put it made Feyre laugh so hard her stomach hurt a little.

They hadn’t gotten much further from where Feyre had been before Rhys showed up to help her.

«I don’t understand…There are four legs, and four corners, so why won’t it fit?!» 

«Let me have a look,» Feyre chuckled, leaning into Rhys’ space to study the instructions once more.

As she reached forward to turn back a page, her hand brushed against his, and she let out a quiet gasp at the contact. He was so close she could feel the warmth emanating from him. 

Neither of them moved for a moment, the tension between them nearly tangible. 

Then Feyre turned her head, slowly, finding his eyes already locked on her, his gaze intense. It would be so easy to just lean in and kiss him, taste him.

Surprisingly, a part of her wanted to. Feyre knew she could be oblivious, but one had to be a complete idiot to not feel the chemistry between them, the spark that had been there from the very first moment.

Her life was too much of a mess at the moment, though. She needed to get her head above water first, needed more time to heal the wounds from her previous disaster of a relationship.

So Feyre pulled away, swiftly ending the moment. She could sense a shift in Rhys as well, but where she’d expected disappointment, maybe even annoyance, she only found a quiet, patient calm, the soft smile on his face telling her he understood, and he was willing to wait, but if she one day was ready, he would be there.

«I may have lied when I said I was a pro at this…»

«I knew it!»

Feyre gave Rhys a smile of her own, so grateful that he didn’t make things awkward after her subtle rejection. She hoped he could see the words she couldn’t voice quite yet.

I want to, I really do, but I’m not ready.

I haven’t had this much fun in ages.

You’ve made me feel alive again.

Having him as her friend would have to be enough.

For now.

A/N: don't ask about the header i was feeling creative today...

ANYWAY I have returned from the dead (I just started college) to give you this:):) I also actually had a beta reader this time, so kudos to my roommate! I'm sorry for making you read this and watch glee with me at the same time<3<3<3 Feel free to reblog, leave a comment or drop by my ask box, I love attention:)

Taglist: @ireallyshouldsleeprn @rowaelinismyotp

I keep a separate taglist for each ship, so let me know if you want to be added to any of them!

[shmothman]

Desperation

Vash the Stampede x Reader 502 Words, Explicit (18+ only) Summary: A little bit of innocent praise is all it takes. Tags: gender neutral reader, jack off fic, in my heart he still has alien junk but it's written to be vague, primarily written with 98 vash in mind (NSFW below the cut)

Vash kneels, hunched over, in a dark, dingy alleyway, his prosthetic hand braced against the siding of the building, his other wrapped tight around his cock. Your words won’t stop ringing in his ears, throbbing in his veins and between his legs: “that was amazing, Vash, you’re incredible!” Innocent enough words—as innocent as your hand on his shoulder when you had said it—but the heat burns fiercely inside him anyway. He can’t control himself when you say things like that, when you so much as brush his hand with your own; it’s too much, he can’t take it.

Fuck, you’re so unfairly gorgeous, so incredibly kind, how is he supposed to not do this? To not find any place he can, no matter how inopportune, to get himself off just so that he can talk to you like a normal person!

You’re amazing. You’re amazing. Fuck, do you even know what you do to him? Without even trying? Do you know how he has to hold in a whimper every time his name slips off your tongue like it was made to be there? Do you know how every fleeting touch is maddening, how he has to bite his tongue to keep from begging for more? For your hands on his skin? For exactly what he’s doing to himself right now, quick and messy and slick?

And oh, it feels so good to imagine it’s your hand so lovingly stroking him, but it’s nothing, nothing compared to what it would feel like if it was real. He falls apart so quickly just thinking about you—god, if you actually touched him, if you told him in that beautiful voice of yours that he was doing so well—he wouldn’t last a minute.

A gasp falls from his lips, muffled as he bites down to keep the sound in. Fuck, he loves you, he knows he does; he knows he shouldn’t, can’t, does anyway. He needs you so badly it hurts, burns beneath his skin and addles his mind and makes his heart and cock ache. His hand moves faster. Close to the edge already, he allows himself the thought of you in his lap, your head thrown back in ecstasy as you ride him, as you beg him for more, as you tell him how he pleases you. He allows himself the thought of his fingers rubbing against you until you cry out his name, again and again, until you come all around him—

He comes too, with a harsh, bitten-off cry of your name.

And then he’s panting into the cool night air, tears pricking at his eyes, swallowing your name back down with a sigh as his head falls into his hands. Still trembling, he tucks himself back into his pants and stands on shaking legs, tugs his coat around himself once more. He takes a deep, steadying breath.

He needs to get back to you, to his friends. He needs to put this aside.

Just another thing he can never have.

[rayshippouuchiha]

The thing about Chuuya and Ichigo being twins opened The Pandora Box in my brain, fucking hell. I'm so sorry this got so long, I started to rant and couldn't stop

---

Imagine, fem Ichigo who concluded highschool and college (maybe she did pedagogy even if Doctor Ichigo is hot, just because here she still has trauma from soul-and-body injuries) without getting her powers back and hearing a phiu of SS (the Karakura Gang getting their shit together before ending the year and then they staying together away from SS bs because the Quincy aren't a thing yet and there's no reason to call them, the janitors op teenagers), and then moving away to get CPS job in one of Japan's "top five must visit" cities, because Inoue and Yuzu gave her the idea that she needed a change of places after staying in Isshin's home so much

Anyway, she starts living and working there (and being the bogey(wo)man we all know and love) and meets this man, Kashimura Kensuke, a scientist with beautiful smiles and pretty blue eyes.

(He's not him, he doesn't have the bloodlust of a man holding his morals with his little finger, the gray eyes of a building storm or the blonde hair that looked like silk. Kensuke was a man build for strength, towering over her and more than half of Japan's population, but with so many soft edges Ichigo was afraid she would accidentally pop him, but– but–

Kashimura Kensuke was flexible in his personality, not only a man written as a softy. He was good where she was bad, was lazy in the mornings where she was the most productive, was angry where was too tired to fight)

They get married after dating for some years, life too short and Ichigo's health getting bad for them to delay, his parents and friends taking most of the chairs and her friends and sisters ready to punch and tear Kensuke if he ever dared to look at her wrong, he winning them over with his himbo charming personality not even five minutes in (they doesn't know about the black cat attending the wedding or all the Shinigami hiding in the shadows. They can't see how one of them holds his Zanpakuto a little too tight)

Their first kid is a ball of sunshine and rage, screaming on top of his lungs like he was already cursing SS, so much like Ichigo that the only thing he has of Kensuke is the color of his eyes, and he is so in love with their kid that Ichigo thinks she falls in love a little more with him (oh, she had bad experiences with her father, and she wouldn't be Ichigo if she let it happen with her kid. She doesn't know if her love for him is real or if it's codependency, if she, somehow, unconsciously made Kensuke Urahara's substitute, but she hopes, oh she hopes, that her love for him is entirely Ichigo's, and not the shadows of her past)

Life is good, life is well.

[Or it would be, if Chuuya had only got his father's eyes, and not Ichigo's sight. A riverbank, a lone child playing with flowers, a hollow Ichigo and Kensuke can't see. An image almost taken from Ichigo's nightmares.

They use their bodies to shield Chuuya until a Shinigami does their job, the uncertainty of the attacks making it hard to do so otherwise]

----

I had thought about Ichigo starting to have heath problems in there third year of dating (like, really bad 'oh shit her body is shutting down' bad) and about Ichigo not being able to pass on or even show up in the spirit world thanks to her soul injury, slowly taking energy from her surrounds so she can have a form again, but then just showing up to Chuuya like a third ability that only he can see (like golden demon but with opinions that should be heardTM) (more hollow than Shinigami, more feral than even the ones born in Hueco Mundo – since her mother's instincts are on overdrive) but it was getting too long, so I have to cut myself here before I can start to rant about how Chuuya still being alive even with his ability is because of Ichigo's genes, how he reacts to the spiritual world that believes that he killed his parents and are a little too happy to repeat it or the aunts and his mother's friends that will pop out of nowhere, kick ass and take names before disappearing after exchanging hugs and forehead kisses, and how Kisuke reacts about all of this because I accidentally made them exes or something– I'm shutting up.

Oh WOW yeah that is fucking fantastic. Babe you should totally write this out fully.

[delphiniumblooms]

okay i figured i should put together an x-files fic masterlist. please also take this opportunity to harangue me into writing more because i have some ideas but little motivation to start (this might have to do with the fact that i haven't watched any x-files in three weeks)

anyway, here they are in order of writing. i have to mention that i started writing only having seen s1 and am now still only in the middle of s2 so these are wildly canon divergent

word count: 1101

rating: G

The part of him she loves best is his voice. She especially likes the way he says her name. ---- some reflection on mulder's sexy dulcet tones, how they get together, etc.

word count: 1181

rating: G

"Fox Mulder, you are under arrest. Anything you say can and will be held against you. You have the right to an attorney…"

"Scully," he whispers, and she raises an eyebrow at him. What is it?

"Agent Scully isn't an attorney," Skinner deadpans.

"I know. But you said anything I said could and would be held against me…that includes physically, doesn't it."

---

the two of them get in a little bit of trouble, but they'll get out of it okay.

word count: 2915

rating: M

"For…real? You must be joking, Mulder. We'd get at best reassigned and at worst fired." He takes his feet off the desk and turns in his swivel chair to face her. She can't read his face exactly — she thinks he's forcing himself to be calm and composed. Is he… nervous? She supposes it takes a fair amount of courage to propose marriage to your longtime coworker, but Mulder has always had courage in great abundance. "So we tell no one. You keep your name. We keep separate addresses. It's simple." --- they get secretly married!! Scully has some complex feelings about it but everything turns out okay

word count: 5879

rating: E

He's wanted her for the longest time, yearned for her body against his, her lips hot on his, his name in her breathy moans. He lets himself imagine for a moment him finally getting what he's dreamed of. But not like this. Not like this, with her pupils blown to such proportions that the blues of her eyes are but slivers, her skin hot and flushed, her mind not her own. It is not her. She is not doing this of his own volition, he realises, tearing his lips away from hers and moving to put the table between them. He has some idea now of how all those people fucked themselves to death or insanity. "Scully," he says. "Scully, look at me." She does, her hands reaching for him, a mournful, confused look on her face. "Mulder. I want you. Won't you have me?" "Not while you're high on this fucked up… sex pollen shit." --- wondered if anyone had written X-Files sex pollen fic, decided to write my own. this is like if the Midnight Oil plot from Agent Carter and Roald Dahl's Bitch and Gender Bender and Blood all had a baby together.

word count: 4108

rating: E

She is so beautiful. He plays back the pleasurable memories of last night as he takes the elevator down to street level, wetting his lips subconsciously. God, he could fuck her all day and night. He's so lucky to have her as a friend, as a fuck buddy. And one day, fate willing… they might be more. --- Mulder finds himself falling for his coworker-with-benefits, the beautiful and enigmatic Dana Scully, but he's convinced she doesn't return his feelings. Both of them drink a little too much and fuck a little too well. As we all know, you are your most honest self when drunk. Alcohol loosens lips, and loose lips can sink ships... or raise a fleet of emotions and secrets. Will they admit their true feelings to each other? Or will they only and always miss each other in the fog of drunken haziness and miscommunication?

word count: 2800

rating: T

She's already beginning to feel stir-crazy. The rooms are small. She and Mulder have one each, and they share one bathroom and one living/dining space. The ceilings are low and it feels as if the walls are closing in on them. Everything feels claustrophobic, too small for comfort. He's too close for comfort. --- The time passes — it would have passed anyway, but it is infinitely more enjoyable to pass it in each other's arms, knowing that they are loved and wanted. It is so good. The domesticity of it is so lovely, and she doesn't feel claustrophobic any more. It feels right to have him so close to her, to fall asleep next to him, to sit side by side and hold hands under the table when they eat. --- MSR, in the one-month quarantine they were put in after Firewalker

word count: 2792

rating: G

He cajoles her into posting a rather vintage-looking Polaroid shot of her he'd taken one night. She does look pretty good in it. It was a good shot. Not that she's going to tell him that.

trustno1 my muse. my touchstone.

She smiles, but doesn't like the comment.

langly_ringo23 @trustno1 coworkers do NOT talk to each other like this

She's scared for a moment that Ringo's guessed that they're together. She's halfway through typing a DM to him to beg him not to rat them out when she stops, rereads the comment, and decides to leave it.

At least he knows they're supposed to be just coworkers.

---

Fox and Dana's journey after getting together in fuck, i'm lonely, chronicled in photo posts on Scully's Instagram page.

word count: 160

rating: G

what happened in the elevator in Paper Clip!

word count: 1367

rating: G

She is here; she is safe. He's found her. He pushes away the urge to sob in relief and focuses on taking care of her, freeing her bound wrists, explaining to her how he'd found her.

---- hurt/comfort post-Irresistible, plus an important conversation about protecting each other

[shamemp3]

THOUGHTS ON YOUR FAV SPIDERMAN RUN KING? 🎤

OHHHHH MAN.

okay. i have two favorites. there is jms's run (DESPITE sins past and omd bc those were editorial pushing that onto spider-man's narrative and it just happened to be him writing asm at the time so he was stuck with those shitty storylines. i also didnt like the spider-totem shit bc imo it goes against the core of spider-man which is that he wasnt "the chosen one" and that anyone can be spider-man but i will forgive jms for this) and there is friendly neighborhood spider-man 2019 which. believe it or not was by tom taylor. do not like the guy but that run was REALLY good but jms is still on top for me he just gets spider-man sooooo much tbh

jms's spider-man is good for many reasons to me, aside from the storylines being fun in general like even tho omd was ass it was written beautifully. peter and mj's goodbye brought tears to my eyes even tho i hate that stupid fucking idea im glad it was jms that executed it bc at least the writing was beautiful. AND what came before omd was back in black which is one of my favorite peter storylines in the entire world bc jms does write peter as a funny guy while also having him be hot-headed and vengeful and a dick ESPECIALLY when people he loves are on the line and this is something that many modern writers forgettttt omfgggg they diagnosed him with funnyguy disease and he has NO OTHER traits and he's so shallow but with jms he's real because you can tell his humor and his flippantness is an act and that he is VERY intense as a person which ... duh. his guilt is what gets him into spider-manning and then that guilt grows into a sense of responsibility and a care for community and people and that is something else i love about jms is the community in his stories !!! many of his storylines are focused on the neighborhood rather than him fighting outer space aliens or some shit its literally just him helping his neighbors and sometimes not even as spider-man but as peter which i love. and he's a teacher in this run too which is one of my favorite jobs peter has ever had because i think it fits him very well and he loves it and i wish he had gotten to keep it.

this run is so earnest and sincere and so many panels and conversations with mj and may make me insane but its still funny and it shows you who peter really is as a character i wish i could explain it with words but ill show you my favorite panels later instead. petermj is also at its heigh here and i think that if anybody were to read any peter run it should be jms's. i just think that overall jms shows you that despite peter's humor you still see how much he cares about people and how earnest he really is despite the whimsy (sigh) and though he's rude and a dick he does put his heart into everything it's just that the entire world is so against him and so his guilt and his grief and his choices eat at him no matter the outcome.

i also love this run bc mj knows about spider-man and may finds out and it just makes me think wowwww wwhat we could have had if omd had not happened. i get peter and his secrets blah blah but i hated that so many people do not know anymore after bc come on. ESPECIALLY mj and may (and the f4 and matt as well tbh but. for another day) and idk this run shows u a little glimpse of how much better it is when pete's loved ones know about his other life. idk. this was a small thing but whatever

i have so much in my head its just not coming out and its not coherent so. panels:

asm (1999) #34

asm #35

asm #38

asm #53

i want to add more panels but my laptop is starting to lag excuse her she has been with me since 2017 and is breathing so loud right now

to sum it up the writing is beautiful i love peter as a teacher i love the neighborhood and community aspect i love peter's characterization i love mj and may i even liked the little part where he lived in the avengers tower idk it was fun. i LOVED back in black. i didnt like the spider-totem shit bc i refuse to believe peter is the chosen one and i HATE sins past and i HATE omd (but jms wrote it beautifully). but overall jms gets it he sooo gets it and i love this run forever and as for taylor's fnsm 2019 its nice and fun and he also got pete's characterization but i wont go into it as much

[livvyofthelake]

post season 1 lost character rankings <3 post is about to be long as fuck btw. heart

jack… i’m such a jack girl sorry for being predictable but he’s exactly my type of character… he has a hero complex and big brown eyes filled with tears he can’t save everyone but he has to try…

kate of course!!! blueprint for emma swan in many ways…. the coolest girl on lost island… her cunty 2000s layered tank tops and low rise bootcut jeans in exodus went crazy also but that is neither here nor there i just didn’t get a chance to mention it before. anyway. literally you always wanna run away katie!!!

sayid <3 THE it girl of lost island. he’s like if The Smart One was a heartthrob. you knowwww i’ve always been a sayid girl (ok yes naveen andrews was in ouat but my love for sayid is only like. 40% coming from that loyalty ok) he’s so. he’s the tech guy he’s the soldier he’s leading hikes he’s triangulating the signal he’s sooo kind he’s obsessed with the worst woman on the island he’s literally besties with kate he looks SO GOOD in his tank tops and i love him…

claire and YES i will acknowledge my emilie de ravin bias. it doesn’t matter what claire as a character is like, that’s my friend belle from the tv from middle school, we were in the trenches together, i love her always, claire makes the top five and that’s FINAL. peace and love <3 also she’s like basically mary from the bible for real

sun… she’s just cool and nice and lovely and her husband suckssss but she loves him and wants him to love her like he used to and she’s growing a garden and helping jack with medicinal stuff and everybody likes her cuz she’s just cool and nice!!!

shannon. and i ask you. did she really do anything wrong? don’t answer that. i’m a feminist. she’s like. there is flop in her slay eras and slay in her flop eras. and she’s soooo sad right now and she needs to keep all of her brother’s things because she doesn’t know how to exist in the world without him and she’s folding his old clothes because she’s anal and she speaks french but only barely because she knew this guy and she wants to help but she’s been a princess her whole life and she doesn’t know how to change but she has to and she’s maybe overcommitted to her zigzag hair part because she thinks beauty is her only currency and now she’s taking care of this kid’s dog because he picked her because he thought it would help her and she won’t say it but she loves these people so much and she doesn’t know how to show it and she doesn’t know what she’s doing and she doesn’t know how to carry it all!!!!!!!! i’m normal about her.

charlie has consistently been a favorite of mine but i’m just anticipating the inevitable season 2 heroin relapse storyline and i hateeeee it. but i do love charlie <3 i like how he has this insane devotion to claire for no reason other than he just wants to be nice and help her. he’s just a lovely guy…

walt and his cute little kid swagggg. his henry mills realness seriously. he’s about to be like. severely written out rip but we LOVED him here <3 when he gave his dog to shannon…. oh my god….

boone gets to not be near the bottom even though he was a total freak because well. no one else gave me joke material like him… he fucked that old man fr…. and then he died… and frankly those episodes on his death and leading up to it were so crazy i can’t not just forgive him for the freak shit. sorry for being an apologist for the guy who was in love with his sister. i mean be real though i’m a cassie girl i’m predisposed to forgive worse shit like that. maybe he only projected love onto her because she’s the only woman he knows. and he’s gay. idk. it doesn’t matter anyway who cares

jin. i actually kind of like jin now i like his dynamic with michael a lot and i think in season two he’ll get over the whole oh boohoo poor me i got roped into the mafia and i can’t tell my wife even though it would be good for our relationship to not have secrets. i forgive him. i hope michael or someone else tries to learn korean to better communicate with him though i don’t just want it to be jin having to learn english. like don’t act like michael wouldn’t try at least…

which of course brings us to michael. i like michael but he’s also kind of just not as interesting as the other characters. i imagine though that the 2004 writers room was overwhelmingly white and therefore just did not do as well writing the characters of color, so i’ll grant michael that forgiveness. i do like him i think the situation with walt is crazytown

hurley. not even my ouat bias could save hurley from being third to last. i don’t have a problem with him it’s just. he’s the comedic relief yk. and he IS funny, but like. idk. kinda like what’s going on with him and the numbers i hope that gets cool in s2

locke. booooo locke. an enemy of jack’s is an enemy of mine!! we’re gonna have a locke problem!! also i’m literally still upset about how he handled the boone situation. imagine you have trauma from your dad hurting you to help himself and then you meet a younger guy who looks up to you as a sort of father/mentor figure and you end up hurting him to help yourself and you have zero self awareness about it. kill yourself old man. your ass is not breaking the cycle.

sawyer. just. ….😒 remember when shannon was having an asthma attack and could have died and sawyer made it seem like he had her inhaler and told kate he’d give it to her if she kissed him. which is already icky. and then kate did it. and then he was like oh yeah btw i don’t have the inhaler haha! like. can you kill yourself.

and if i were asked to name my favorite episodes of the season? well most recently i loved do no harm, but all jack’s episodes were great to me so also white rabbit and all the best cowboys have daddy issues. and deus ex machina was crazy as well. and the moth. and exodus part one specifically but all three parts were pretty great too. born to run was also good! and can i be frank. can i say something we might not like. hearts and minds was a great episode… yes it’s the incest episode i know i was there… but speaking from a standpoint of like. what makes a tv episode a Good TV Episode, it kinda went crazy. i mean did we see the twist coming? for sure not! that’s tv! sometimes the point of tv is to make you go 😟 and well. hearts and minds did that…

[rigginsstreet]

misc. tag game

tagged by @blood-mocha-latte

a band you don’t like that many others do:

maneskin... tried a couple songs, wanted to like them.... cant do it

a childhood memory that you remember vividly:

this costume contest i refused to enter because my costume was boring and i knew i was gonna lose by the adults were like "no just join come on itll be fun" and i was like... already consumed by the darkness at that point lmfao and i sat watching everyone crying. fun! lmfao

least favorite animal and why:

i hate a snake. i respect their role in the ecosystem but dont you ever put one near me. dont put one within 5 miles of me. no. i dont trust anything that slithers bitch aint got no legs! i dont like that. and the striking? dont like that either. i have to stop talking about them now im genuinely uncomfortable

hot fandom take:

steve harrington is not a good character. he is badly written. yall only like him cuz you think joe is hot. thats literally it. the man has literally zero positive qualities. apply this to every other loved st character as well theyre all bad the show sucks i hope everyone dies

do you were any jewelry, if so, what’s your favorite piece:

i wear a friendship bracelet and a rope bracelet i got on a cruise (i forgot what theyre called. sailor bracelets or something?) and thats about the extent of my jewelry wearing

a movie others liked but you didn’t:

i don't think i've ever cognitively watched a movie and thought that i loved it or hated it. i'm usually just like Well That Sure Was A Movie. <- im keeping prevs because thats what wildest thing ive ever read in my life i need to study you lmfao as for my answer, insidious movies are bad. youre next is bad. many movies this website loves i havent even seen but i know they are bad thats why i havent watched them.

three things you love about yourself:

my hair is getting real cute lately. i am a huge bitch. i stare at my butt a lot i think its fun

a place you hope to visit in the future and why:

italyyyy i want to trace my roots

an actor that gets on your nerves and why:

idk if theres actors i have beef with for their personality lmao several i dont like because they are overhyped and im sick of seeing them. ariana grande she counts as an actress i cant stand her lmfao the vibes are rancid also stop dating married (taken) men its gross its weird

things you’re excited for in the nearby future?:

for my dog to finally be healed from her surgery cuz god its a lot of working making sure she dont pop her stitches

least favorite ship in a fandom you’re in:

if stancy is endgame im setting fires to buildings i want you all to know this. also fuck a steddie and a ronance but that goes without saying

what’s the most toxic fandom you’ve been in?:

stranger things. riverdales a close second but stranger things... you are all genuinely mentally unwell i would like to speak to your therapists and tell them shit aint working

list three things you find beautiful about life:

the ocean my best friend the ocean. animals just be out here looking for pets... brings a tear to my eye. im really struggling for a third life is bad lmfao my best friend? thats it.

any dreams for the future?

i try not to think about the future it gives me panic attacks

how are you really feeling today?

sleepy

tagging (no pressure): @panickedpenguin @avalonlights @ihaveacorgi @imsodishy

[gothsuguru]

HI HELLO IM BREAKING INTO UR INBOX W TEARS IN MY EYES…………… 😭😭 i just read all ur tags on my sugu fics and when i tell you i CRIED YOURE SOO??? so so SO sweet and thoughtful????? I HOPE YOUR DINNER WAS THE TASTIEST EVER bc ur tags made my whole weekend <333333 literally every single thing u said made me go YES YOU GET IT like… im just gonna mention a couple things phsjdhs IM REALLY SOSO GRATEFUL <333 

FIRST OFF just . everything u said abt my writing in general??? is soooo unbelievably kind??? T_T like abt the setting and prose and etc!!! i got soooo happy every time u said u felt like u were really There LIKE THAT MEANS SO MUCH…. ”it’s like i’m living inside your words” ARE U TRYING TO KILL ME </3 sob. thank u :’< 

and aaa im so glad u liked all three fics even though theyre a bit different!! 🥺🥺 i just rlly feel like u understood what i was trying to convey w certain characters and lines and stuff and it means soooo much??? SUGU IS A DEVOTED LOVERBOY YESYESYES U GET IT!!!!! U UNDERSTAND!!!! ”devoted” & ”intense” are the PERFECT words for him i cant tell u how much i agree. AND SOO NURTURING YES WE’RE SO LINKED he’s so mother he’s so husbandwife <333 IM JUST NODDING ALONG TO EVERYTHING U SAY like genuinely. food as love was the theme for that particular fic hehe im so glad u noticed!!! 

AAAA AND UR TAGS ON THE CHILDHOOD BESTIES FIC ……. thats probably my fave sugu fic out of the ones ive written ngl i was sooo happy to see that u liked it 😭😭😭 U GET IT U DO… like their love could be platonic or romantic but it doesnt rlly matter bc they just love each other sooo much. HE’S A GHIBLI BOY YES i’m so glad u see the vision <33

IM SORRY THIS GOT SO LONG i just need you to know that i see you and i love you and i appreciate you <3333 tysm for reading my silly lil fics and taking the time to write such thoughtful tags!!! 🥺🥺 im tucking them all away into my heart hehe. wishing u the most wonderful weekend ever !!!! mwah mwah mwah <33

OMG PLEASENDNDNDND your writing is literally SO stunning methinks you have the best rendition of suguru out there… like it’s so TELLING how much you love suguru (and satoru bc TRUST i’m gonna be in the tags of those fics too) and also i just really like how much personality you give to the reader as well! like everyone just is so fleshed out & 3-dimensional like they don’t feel like Just Characters In A Story they feel like real people & honestly magnificent writing to me always makes me feel like i’m watching a movie - and your writing does that! as i’m reading i’m envisioning everything like a movie & that’s the best compliment i can give fr <3 again it’s a testament to your beautiful dialogue, scene setting, storytelling, and YES PROSE!!!!! THAT’S THE WORD I WAS LOOKING FOR THE ENTIRE TIMENFNFNFNF your PROSE is beautiful 😭 it’s very COZY & PRETTY i love it

& OMG I WAS ABLE 2 UNDERSTAND BC YOU CONVEY EVERYTHING SO WELL!!!!! i was never confused i was Always In It <3 AND YES YOU SPOKE #REAL bc sugu is the ULTIMATE devoted loverboy… & i love how his intensity is just innate to him like he can’t help but love fully and with his whole entire mind, heart, body, & soul! and i also like how it isn’t an uncomfortable intensity or overbearing in a bad way - it’s just like a really nice weighted blanket and i LOVE that. & omg i’ve come to love food motifs so much………. whether it be hunger for something, cannibalism to get to the core of someone’s being, peeling clementines as an act of selflessness/love for someone else, or just sweet soft feeding your lover in bed bc you want them to eat well… that’s some delicious fucking food. & YESSSSSS nurturing caretaker sugu my beloved………. i think i read somewhere i forgot if it was just a random post here but someone said that suguru has such natural paternal instincts and that’s so real… like he’s mother he’s father he’s husbandwife he’s Transcended everything… the ultimate DadMom of the group… i just know his tote bag has bandaids, water, & snacks for everyone and he’s just the One you go to talk to about anything (again just like your sugu <3) OH AND ALSO i really like how devoted the reader is too! i Myself am a devoted lovergirl so i Feel seen

THE CHILDHOOD BESTIES FIC WAS SO FUCKING &/@/$/&//@/&:! why’d i get transported to a quaint town w the boy i’ve been in love since childhood and now he grew into a wondrous handsome man… trust that for Me if it involves sugu i’m immediately going romantic mode like i’m sorry i’m so Desperately In Love with him i can’t be normal <3 that fic is so fucking rich and filled w real problems that teens/ppl in their twenties face! the fear of the unknown but it feels like anything is possible and doable with someone like suguru by your side! AND YES HE IS SOOOOO HAKU-CODED TO ME (my first bf since i was a kid… coincidence? methinks not…) and also i reallllllllly love your fic of suguru going to reader’s apartment to declare war but he instead goes & has tea & cookies instead… i think i read that fic ages ago on ao3 and i could never find it again so it’s so Poetic Cinema that i found it here and that it was YOU and that you created so many more amazing fics… like i’m so well fed omfg & i’m super excited for anything you have coming out next!

AND OMG IT’S ABSOLUTELY MY PLEASURE! THANK YOU FOR CREATING SUCH BEAUTIFUL STORIES THAT I WILL KEEP TUCKED IN MY BRAIN & HEART <3 i will never forget you twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat… for as long as i live 🫡☝🏼 BUT FR!!!!! thank you for creating such wonderful premises for stories! i’m ecstatic to read anything you come out with next <3 mwah mwah mwah

^ me when reading your fics

[urmom609402]

Part 2 of The Cold

Happy Halloween!! I saw the interaction with the first part of this story and was really relieved to see that people enjoyed it. I hope this new addition will suffice, again, much love <33

PS. this is NSFW- w/w and w/m (I've never written smut so forgive me, but again, any notes or suggestions I will happily read them)

What felt like hours had passed, I was starving and even if I didn’t want to admit it…cold. Beyond all other feelings I somehow felt calm. It wasn’t Otis making me feel this way, but the fact that I was out of the storm. As the sky boomed outside I heard a clash of yelling and laughter roaring from below. Before I could try and make out what they were saying, there were stomps right outside the door. 

“Knock Knock poopy-head!” Baby cackled before busting the door down. “What’d my brother do to you? You dont look too good.” She smiled wide. “You need a new dress, I got just the thing.” she ran out the door before popping her head back in. “I’ll untie you when I get back.” She blushed faintly and sauntered across the hall.

Baby was a peculiar woman, precious in a way but clearly a little out of her mind. I enjoyed her company, although that could just be because she was the only person my age in the house. More than anything else I wish to get out of this rotting maze of a house, but if I step foot out of this room I know I'm going back to my boyfriend in a bodybag. The thing is, we lived near here too. Always driving past that fork in the road, steering clear of it everytime…like clockwork. But I guess it wasn't a total lie to say I needed a ride home, but i chose to walk home because I knew it was close enough before the convertible got to me. 

"I got just the thing.." Baby lifted up two dresses, one, a vintage flower dress from the early 60s. And the second, lingerie and a robe that looked exactly like Mama's. "I wasn't sure which one you preferred but I thought it could be fun to do a makeover." She smiled and sat in my lap. "You got real pretty eyes, you know? I think the blue flowers would match you well…." She reached around me to untie my wrists from the chair. "I'm gonna untie you, but please don't scream, or run. We'll just have a little makeover while my brothers…" she pauses. "Go find more friends." 

I didn't know how to respond as she was clearly covering herself up, but as she untied me I caught her staring at my exposed cleavage a couple times. I didn't feel uncomfortable per say, but I started to feel an unexplainable tension between us. She stood up in front of me, taking the dress off its hanger and putting it in front of me as I very slowly got up on my feet, taking a quick spin to get a better look at Otis' room. The drawings on the wall were unlike any I've ever seen, it was grotesque but beautiful. He had a talent for arts of some kind, clearly, but of what I couldn't tell beyond the walls. Baby quickly grabbed the sides of my hips.

"Hey silly? Gotta take your clothes off if you wanna look nice for Otis!" She smiled wide, spinning me around to face her.

"For Otis?" I asked, face still shocked from her hands.

"Yeah! I saw how he looked at you… you two know each other. I assume you two must've fucked or something-" she laughed softly at my discomfort. "Oh… my bad, but you'll still look very pretty once I'm done…" She blushed gently, holding my arms up in the air to take off my T-shirt. It was drenched in sweat, tears, rain and dirt. I had gone through hell and back and now she just took off all the pressure I've felt for the past few hours. As she undressed me I felt her hands explore a little more than expected. Pulling the dress over my breasts gently sliding up and down seeing if I noticed her touch or not- I had- or how her hands always hovered over mine as I slid the bottom of the dress down my thighs when I sat down again. She looked at me as if I was some goddess, a beauty she's never seen before.

"Thank you…I feel much better now." I said, voice a little hoarse.

"You look much better too… got a nice set of tits on you, huh?" She bit her lip taking me all in. 

"Thanks, not too bad yourself." I saw her mouth curve into a small grin before pouncing me onto the bed.

"You flirting with me?" She plays with my hair, tugging on it gently, as I try to weigh out my options. She tugs on one long strand hard "Heyy!!" She sounded annoyed like a little kid about to throw a tantrum. "Are you flirting with me or not?" 

Putting my hand over hers I tried to calm her down as her gaze became slightly animalistic over me. "Yes." Her face lit up, she readjusted herself so her knees were against my thighs, leaning over me. 

"Otis hasn't touched you has he?" She whispered before kissing my neck.

"No… should I be concerned about that?" I said petting her hair. I was too paralyzed and surprisingly turned on to move away.

"Maybe… he usually doesn't keep someone alive for this long so he must really admire you. Don't be surprised if he does more than touch you though…" she giggles softly and peppers kisses over my head and neck.

I felt a shiver go down my spine as she touched me.. caressing each curve with passion, slowly rocking herself back and forth over my thighs unknowingly. I felt so desperate for escape I just did what I needed to. Explore her. She didn't mind, but I had ever been with a woman, that became clear as soon as I tried to dip my hand between her thighs. 

She giggled, shoving my hand against her inner thigh. "You wanna feel how happy you make me?" She keeps my hand still as I try to glide up and down, a weak attempt at teasing. "Say it!" She said angrily. 

I sat up, hand still between her legs and nodded. "I want to feel every inch of you Baby." I took my other hand and hooked it onto her other leg, spreading them out more, so I can flip her under me. Before I could do that she stuck her hand under the dress knocking me back down onto the bed, kneading my breasts. As my breath grows shaky, I feel my pussy throb, desperate for some kind of touch. As I reached my free hand under the new panties she had given me, before she grabbed it and pinned my arms to my side.

"Let me help." Never breaking eye contact she snaked her way down onto the ground, grasping my ankles and draping my legs over her shoulders. As she dipped her head between my legs, she left long, soft kisses on my inner thighs. When I clamped my legs together she playfully bit my left leg. "I'll be gentle… just keep them apart for me.." she whispered sweetly, all previous emotions out of the window, no more anger, or animalistic urges, she wanted to help me out.

***

Bang bang bang

"Open the fucking door! This is my room Baby you better get your fucking ass out of it before I send a bullet through your god damn skull and drag you out myself!" Otis frustratedly screamed from the other end of the door. 

Baby wiped her lips, and looked behind us at the door. "Make me!" She pushed my legs back into the bed as if nothing happened, leaving me to lay down star-struck in the middle of the bed.

Soon there was a crash, door flying open to see Otis, now shirtless and a little bloodied. As he held himself back from smacking the shit out of Baby, he locked eyes with me, splayed out on his bed, legs trembling as my chest heaved post-orgasm. His stare wasn't how it was before, it wasn't the look of death.. it was a look of the admiration Baby mentioned before. He looked back at me, and then back at Baby, who was now flushed in the face as red as I was, giggling and licking my cum off her fingers trying to continue seducing me from across the room.

"Oh Jesus Baby you didnt!" Otis groaned, ripping her fingers out of her mouth.

"You're just jealous I got to her first!" She said hitting him and wiping the remainder of liquids from her hands on her dress. Otis pushed her out of the room leaving us alone together.

"Baby really touch you?" He gruffed walking over to me.

"She did more than touch.." I smiled.

He sat down on the other end of the bed. "Up." 

"Why?"

"Don't ask questions, just do it." He barked, flicking his finger up at the ceiling.

I felt very wobbly, unable to balance. I stood against the bed and looked back at him. He gave another inquisitive look at my face, and panned down my body.

"What are you doing?" I mumbled.

"Seeing what I'm working with sweetheart." I felt myself cringe at the pet name but tried not to let it show in my face as he edged closer to me, tracing his fingers against my waist. "Baby treated you real good didn't she?" He tisked. "If you just waited for me to come back like I said.. you would've been just as warm." He slapped my ass, holding me up causing me to jump. "You move an inch and I'll rip your spine out, y'hear me?"

I nodded. He let go of my ass and worked his way off the bed and onto his feet, looking down at me, gripping my chin firmly to get me to look at him.

"Here's what's gonna happen. You wanted to feel warm, so I'll make you feel like you're burning." He lifted my dress up. "Baby's?"

"Yeah… gave me a makeover."

"Good…” He took the dress and flung it across the room, taking in every inch of my body. “She gave you bruises, you know.”

“I don’t mind…”

“You don’t mind a little pain with your pleasure momma?” He smirks and leans down. “Baby treated you real good… but I can treat you better.” 

Suddenly, Otis took a quick bite on my neck, causing me to hold onto his shoulder. As he bit he gently kissed the wound, working his way around it with his tongue, noticing how I would jump a little under his touch. He understood I was afraid, and tried his best to control himself. The kisses he gave reached from my neck to my breasts, taking his sweet time. This lasted for nearly twenty minutes, simple kisses, nothing more, he wanted to tease me. 

Seduce me.

But who am I kidding? His goal was to tease.

And it was a success, I felt comfort and lust unlike any previous encounters I've had with a man...which freaked me out. How come a man who looked like he was going to kill me only hours before be able to turn me on so much? A question I’ll never be able to answer, I kept it in the back of my mind letting my body give into this wave of pleasure- forgetting I was stranded in a house of horrors. 

[iguessyouregonnamissthepantyraid]

I recently reread you REVENGERS show story and I just wanted to praise you about how incredibly well written and entertaining it is.

The asgardian funeral scene with "Æ og du" playing? GOLD. Literally made me tear up while reading it for like 7th time.

Loki using his magic to heal Thor's eye and just them TALKING?? On GOD that shit was beautiful! I LIVE for those two and their chaotic but loving sibling dynamic.

Eris being a buddy of Groot and Rocket? Fantastic! Gives her character so much rich history and makes her overall feel more connected and well-grounded in that universe. It's the little details man

And now to a personal highlight of the story to me:

The interactions between Loki and Bruce/Hulk.

Just the way Loki is weary of the Hulk, as is Banner of Loki, yet they still are low-key fascinated by each other. Like when Loki did a double take when Hulk told him he knows he's hiding something. Or when Banner was trying to make peace with Loki in the hallway and offered to be friends. They even somewhat care about each other's wellbeing to the point where Loki tries not to hurt Hulk when he... hulked-out and even APOLOGIZES to him for using the tesseract on him, or Bruce's first fear after waking up is that he may have killed Loki. They have such an interesting dynamic. Are they reluctant teammates? Are they starting to honestly care about each other? Who the hell knows! All I know is I'm rooting for Loki to find a friend that actually likes him for who he is. And if that friend happens to be Banner/Hulk, then that gets extra pluspoints from me. Can you imagine Tony's reaction to that tho?

AHHHH so okay first of all, thank you for this message, it made my morning. and it's beautifully timed because coincidentally, i ALSO just reread the entire revengers series! i've been trying to wrangle the remaining plot points into some kind of order where everything makes sense and flows in a satisfying way (like, i know almost everything that i want to happen, just not how and when to make it happen) but i think i'm finally making some headway!

re: the thor and loki talk, the very first moment of quiet in the plot came along and i was like AH YES finally time to address the fact that thor's best friends are all dead! but i liked making it not about heartache and grief so much as it was about remembrance, you know? i feel like asgardians have an interesting relationship with grief since, like, valhalla is supposedly a real actual place. it's just neat. and also obviously i needed an excuse for thor and loki to have a..... sort of genuine heart-to-heart. emotionally stunted brothers style, anyway

and maaan oh man i'm SO glad you like bruce and loki's interactions! because they've become some of my favorite scenes to write! loki was terrified of the hulk in ragnarok only to be like "hello bruce 😌" when he sees him next, which was fucking hilarious to me and absolutely required that i expand on these two. and for bruce it's like... you know when the brother of one of your closest friends is also the guy who was responsible for a literal mass casualty event in new york? the same guy that you then pounded into a tile floor like a pit bull with a stuffed animal? but he's, like, a god, so he survived and then he did some time in prison and now he's sort of on your guys' side and also living on a spaceship with you? yeah? you know that feeling? we've all been there, right?

here's the real question: was bruce's worry about whether he killed loki as the hulk about not wanting to kill anyone as the hulk, or was it because he's starting to genuinely care about loki's wellbeing? who knows! bruce certainly doesn't! regardless, they WILL be close friends by the end of spending nearly two years on a spaceship together. you really can't not, and they have so much in common! do you think loki might be able to relate to being something destructive and monstrous and terrifying? and hating that part of yourself and wanting to get rid of it? ugh god i have one line in particular that i've been sitting on and DYING to use between the two of them (fun fact: this line is the one that prompted a friend over DMs to say "sam i am chasing you with a knife" so. do with that what you will) and i swear it's coming.... eventually 👀

oh and tony WILL be completely and utterly gobsmacked by it lmao, they finally land on earth after two years and they're in the middle of introducing the Loki Problem™ to american (or norwegian?) authorities, and tony's there because it's avengers related so of course he's there, and loki says some offhand thing under his breath that makes bruce just fucking lose it, like, choking trying not to laugh in the middle of this very important diplomatic meeting and tony's like. oh sure, the mass murderer is funny now. he tells jokes. cool. cool cool cool hey, just wondering, did i enter an alternate reality just now? am i finally losing it? bruce? had any weird interactions with a mind stone lately? buddy? the fuck?

anyway. yeah. i'm itching to write more of this, and trust me, i have been :)