#we KNOW aggravate is strong

[luckyavntrne]

3.4 spoilers (about alhaitham's kit)

people keep complaining about how alhaitham's attack string is essentially taken from other characters, which.... yes that is true but why's that such a big deal? i remember that the most noticeable were ayato and zhongli's but people don't really use their basic attacks often enough anyway, so again why make a big deal out of it?

and a lot of people are bitching over how alhaitham is dendro keqing. which isn't a bad thing??? keqing has a solid kit and it's gotten so much better with dendro... what's wrong with having a dendro alternative, especially since some players might have more electro than dendro characters.

i feels like people are complaining too much about alhaitham's kit. yes, he is dendro keqing but i find that a good thing considering how amazing keqing is with dendro and how solid her kit is regardless (no split scaling or anything like that)

[sugutiva]

❝ THAT P ★ SSY GOT POWER ! ❞ — G. SATORU

ᥫ᭡. synopsis : for some reason . . . the strongest sorcerer in the world ( purposely ) got struck by a lust curse.

tags : smut, p in v, oral sex ( f! receiving ), enemies to lovers (?), reader folds quickly LMAO, gojo eats us out against the wall . . . again, hair pulling, pussy spanking, overstimulation, teasing, cowgirl, switch!gojo, slight orgasm denial, creampie, cursing, dirty talk, all lowercase intended, not proofread !

a/n : if this flops again tumblr is RACIST.

“ we need you to go talk to gojo satoru, and convince him to come back to jujutsu high.”

oh. so he’s the reason why you’re attending a meeting even though it’s your off day.

your face twists into an expression of displeasure, not only from the burdensome demand of gakuganji and possibly the other higher ups, but from the sound of his gravelly voice ringing throughout the spacious room. nonetheless, you bite your tongue. “ seriously, me? why would i ever do something like that?”

it’s extremely rare as a sorcerer to catch a simple day off, and the fact that you were called in to fetch a man-child to come back to his responsibilities was . . . aggravating. to say the least.

gakuganji continues, “ his disappearance has already gone on further than we’d like,” he takes a pause to lift his head slightly, looking you dead in the eyes. “ so seeing how you’re the only free adult, we chose you to go fetch for him.”

you cross your arms and legs before leaning back in the couch. as he explains in more detail on how there’s an increase of curses, and how no one's teaching the second and first years, ( not like they’d mind ) you start to feel a twinge of sympathy.

sure, you and gojo don’t see eye to eye sometimes, but it was unusual for him to go missing all of a sudden and leave everything behind. ( although he’d eerily fantasize about killing the higher ups whenever he was provoked enough ) you uncross your body before standing up from the couch swiftly.

“ i’ll check on him. but i wouldn’t guarantee a return from him,”

“ great choice, [last name].”

- -

all for jujutsu high and humanity.

giving three loud knocks to his door, you wait, and get no answer in response. “ gojo satoru, can you open up already?” you yell, surely loud enough for him to at least crack the door open. still, you get no answer from the other side.

just as you were casually mapping the outside of his house for an easy way to get inside, the door swiftly opens. there stood the man in question in all of his glory; he wore grey baggy sweats— and it seemed like no boxers underneath because of how his white happy trail seductively peeked out from underneath while the print of his cock was hardly concealed. the upper half of his toned body shined in a coat of sweat while he leaned his upper body against the door frame.

was he exercising. . . or maybe doing something else?

“ you just gonna stare at me after almost breaking my door off it’s hinges?”

shit. he caught you practically gawking at him.

“ i— um. we need to talk,” you gulp, feeling more nervous compared to any other time you’ve talked to him before. “ you‘ve been playing hooky for quite too long now and the higher ups are on my ass about it.”

he stares at you unfazed, you stare back.

but to your surprise, instead of slamming the door in your face and hiding away for longer, he shifts his body over, enough for you to come inside.

“ geez. those hags don’t ever know when to fall back.” he dramatically groans as you hesitantly step in to take your shoes off before walking in further.

vaguely, you swear you felt the weight of his eyes tracing your figure as you walk into his apartment, heading to his living room. you choose to brush it off.

inside it’s modern and creepily bare, like there’s no one actually existing in here— including this alluring scent. it’s not bad but it is heavy, as if a burdensome weight is on your shoulders. definitely musk but the strong scent of cinnamon is also within the mix. again, you brush it off while sinking down into the couch cushions, too late to turn back now.

gojo walks in later than you, and instead of sitting across from you— he plops right next to you, sluggishly resting his long arms on the back of the couch while manspreading, his freakishly lengthy legs invades the little space you have. your face contorts into an expression of outwardly discomfort. “ why’re you sitting right next to me, gojo?”

“ you rudely wake me up by pounding on my door, and now i can’t sit where i want in my living room?” he blows out a breath of air while rolling his eyes with a level of sass that makes you cringe slightly. “ girl. you really don’t have any manners at all. not like that’s a surprise tho—“

” please, let’s just focus on the reason why i came here.” you curtly cut him off, barely refraining yourself from slapping him in the head now that his infinity was off.

you knew he wouldn’t listen in the first place, so the sight of his head hanging off the couch while his leg rocked up and down rhythmically like this was the most boring lecture he had to sit through shouldn’t really piss you off— but it does. you let out an exhausted groan while rubbing your temples to soothe your growing headache. you really wish you hadn’t picked up the phone today. “ do you even care about the effect your disappearance has caused right now? you really are a careless manchi—“

“ i need to fuck you.” he bluntly states.

what? you couldn’t had possibly heard that right.

“ i-i’m sorry?”

he shifts, his body is now upright, contrasting his previous lazy posture. “ you want to know why i’ve been gone?” he waits for you to nod, which you do. “ i got struck by some sort of lust curse, so in order for it to go away, we need to fuck.” you don’t get a chance to fully register his words before his lips are on yours.

you feel him sigh into your mouth, as if you two making out on his couch relieved him from all his frustrations. you can’t deny that you’re into it like how he is, especially when he rolls his raging bulge into the inside of your thigh so desperately— but this isn’t the reason why you came here. obviously gojo thinks otherwise.

“ g-gojo! we can’t,” your voice trembles, and so does your body as you push the white haired man away from you. when he looks back in your eyes, you immediately notice that there’s truly something wrong. his pupils are wildly dilated— to the point where you can barely see his signature blue.

the intensity of his gaze freezes you in place. but you can’t shake off the feeling of being lured in.

almost like he’s hypnotizing you.

“ says who, baby?” his hand creeps down to the waist band of your pants, he tugs on your panties, only letting them go so they can soundly snap back against your skin, making your hips jolt in his grasp. “ don’t deny it now. i bet ya’ she’s gonna be leaking f’me.” the palm of his hand grinds down on your clothed mound.

this time, you’re the one to pull him into a heated kiss, and he matches your energy fully. your nails scratches at his undercut, forcing a needy moan to leave his chest and wander into your awaiting mouth. the kiss is so intense that you don’t realize that he’s taken off your pants along with your underwear until your bare skin touches around his while he carries you into his bedroom.

he presses your back to the wall only to hike you up further on the wall— the way how you’re positioned is that you’re currently using him as your own chair.

“ you do the most. are you really going to eat me out against a wall?” you tut, knowing that you’re not actually against the idea. your question isn’t answered with words, but when he presses moist kisses leading from your thigh to your soaked cunt, you think you have a inkling of the answer.

he blows on your erect clit before focusing his attention on your flustered face. “ for someone who was pushing me away . . . you sure are soaked.” your mouth opens, most likely with a bratty response. although it’s quickly forgotten when he presses a spit filled peck on your clit. there’s a line of spit that connects him to your cunt as he pulls away. “ ‘m not tryna embarrass you. just find it quite adorable.”

“ w-will you ever just shut up, and eat me out? i’m sick of hearin’ your mouth, gojo.” you murmur, watching as his grin grows impossibly wider— the bastard is riling you up on purpose just for his twisted entertainment. there will be a time later on tonight where you’ll get him back for that.

but for now, you need to feel his tongue mapping out every inch of your pussy.

he huskily chuckles, you want to ignore the effect that the sound does to you. “ heh. i got you baby,” with that, he rolls his tongue out on your heat, licking a fat stripe of spit in the direction to your pulsing clit. your body shudders as you finally get what you desire; your sworn enemy eating you out while your figure is trapped between him and a wall.

and oh is he nasty with it.

“ s-shit— you’re doing s’gooood, satoru!” you lewdly whine out, the knuckles of your hands turn a shade brighter than your skin as you tug on his pristine hair. moving away from your clit, he focuses on sloppily flicking your opening with his tongue. “ satooooru!”

for this being your first time hooking up together, gojo is uncannily skilled at fucking you dumb with only his tongue. it makes you yearn for what else he can do to you next.

gojo pulls back from your cunt, the lower half of chin is alluringly coated with your juices and his saliva. “ damn. she tastes too fuckin’ good. and why have you been keeping this away from me for so long?” he mutters to himself rather than you. his hand comes down on your cunt as a harsh smack, he delivers another and another before waiting for your reaction. when more slick dribbles out your hole, sliding down to your ass, it makes him want to go beyond feral.

“ looks like i’ve got myself a masochistic slut, heh.” no more is said as his mouth resumes back on your pussy, throwing you back into that wave of euphoria. the muscles in your thighs twitch, drawing him closer to your syrupy madness.

satoru moans, his hips bucks up on the wall as if to find some friction while splitting you down with that wonderful tongue. your toes are curled, back lifting from off the wall and every strangled moan you yell makes him thrust his tongue faster, along with his hips— the distant pleasure coming from fucking the wall is not near enough to make him cum, not that he’s worried about that, as your hypnotic taste is making him shamefully pussydrunk.

“ oh. ooooh, ‘m so close, you’re gonna make me cum!” you pant out while instinctively clamping your walls around his tongue shoving itself in. he’s more determined than ever, messily tongue fucking you while kneading your ass in his big hands. how he manages to hold you up by your ass only, it’s still a wonder.

your hips have a mind of their own as they grind down for your sweet release, and at this rate you don’t know if your pulling him away or closer to you. but when he hollowly sucks at your empty hole, that triggers your powerful orgasm.

“ d-don’t stooop! i’m cumming!” your eyes clamp shut as you throw your head back before bursting out into trembles. satoru continues to listen to your earlier words. he delivers kitten licks onto your clit just begging for his attention. “ satoru— i’m too sensitive,”

he doesn’t care to listen.

finally, he comes up from the spot between your thighs as your recovering from yet another messy orgasm. “ okay messy girl, as much as i love eating you out— i think you should show me some attention too.”

wordlessly, he carries your limp body over to his bed— in the traditional bridal carry this time. you think it’s somewhat romantic, but of course gojo has to ruin it by chucking you on piece of furniture, making you meet his incredibly soft duvets face first. “ the fuck?” you gain composure by lifting yourself on your hands and knees, looking back to throw him the nastiest glare you could muster. “ i swear at this point you’re getting no pussy, gojo.”

he pays your words no mind. as he pulls his pants down, his cock uncontrolledly springs free from it’s restraint. fuck, it was so big and pretty. the sheer length will no doubtfully have you feeling over cockdrunk, his tip flushes an angry red that makes your mouth water.

“ what about not getting any pussy?” he cheekily mocks you, stroking the head of his cock to smear the pearly pre-cum down his length.

“ shut the fuck up and get on the bed.” you whine, struggling by the second to keep up your bratty facade. the sound of the bed dipping under his body weight makes you flip over on your elbows and spread your legs wide for his gaze.

complying, he still rolls his eyes and clicks his tongue. “ geez. okay daddy,” his hands grabs you by the thighs and yanks you on your back completely. he presses the slit of his head against your clit, watching with delight as your folds compliments each side of his cock like a lewd hotdog. “ yer’ so mouthy but that’s expected, gonna have to fix that little problem though.”

“ i’m the mouthy one? that’s real fuckin’ funny coming from the one who cannot shut up for one second to save his life.” you bitterly cackle, although your voice comes out shaken from the audible clicks of your pussy getting played with. when he slightly dips into the warmth of your opening before trailing upwards to your clit again, you resist the urge to strangle him. “ — if you’re teasing me, i’m going to hurt you.”

he rolls his eyes unenthusiastically at the cold stare you give him from underneath your full eyelashes. “ tsk. you’re no fun, baby.” with one swift movement, he’s sinking into your gummy walls with a relieved groan.

maybe, because of the high side effects of the lust curse running it’s course is the reason why satoru finds himself cumming too early with not even a full pump.

and it’s a lot.

“ s-shiiiit— that was t-too early, can’t s-stop!” his body bursts into violent trembles— mimicking your own previously. hot ropes of cum taints your walls with the sensation of his cum while his hands grab at your thighs with a death grip that will for sure leave bruises later, having you sore for days. you think it’s rather endearing how vulnerable he looks.

gojo was just— if not more, surprised than you were.

it feels like forever when he finally comes down from his high, and you feel out of breath just watching him. “ that . . . that was not supposed to h-happen.” he weakly mutters, his head hanging down from embarrassment. somwhat, you’re prideful knowing that only you had him feeling like this.

“ ‘nd all that big talk just for you to be a one pump champ,” now, it’s his turn to weakly glare at you, “ think you can still fuck me? or do i have to ride you?” you grab a fistful of his hair before tugging his face close, to the point where your breath fans over his open, panting mouth. the pain from your dominant actions shoots through his veins and to his sensitive cock, resulting in it twitching greedily in your tense walls. “ am i talking to myself, satoru?”

“ fuck— n-no.”

you smirk, and to satoru you look exceedingly sexy and evil; a deadly combo. “ my good boy,” you peck his lips, letting the grip you have of his hair go so he can pull out of you. when he does, copious amounts of cum immediately pours from your quivering hole in a thick, flowing motions with a loud popping sound to accompany. with just one load he’s managed to stuff you full.

he flips over while hugging your body close to his. relaxing his figure, he watches as you aligned yourself against him, your shirt long gone by now, and your body is beautifully presented to him with the marks he inflicted upon the free reign of skin.

you could tell he wanted you just as much as you wanted him.

“ don’t— don’t think about teasing me now, not when i need you this m-much.” he briefly forgets how to breath as your sticky folds rubs against the head of his cock, drowning in more cum until it reaches his base.

“ oh, you don’t like your own game being played on you?” you grunt, rolling your hips sensually down. his adam’s apple bobs as swallows his growing anticipation he can barely contain. but after a few dragged out moments of teasing, resulting in you feeling torturously edged as well— you finally sink down on him. “ fuuuck . . .” you whisper to yourself.

you lips tremor as you pause, allowing yourself to being properly stretched out as your pussy invites in as much as possible. this isn’t the first time you’ve had sex with someone, but the hefty length of satoru makes you pause before going on. when the dull stinging pain shifts to that familiar mouth watering pleasure, you find your pace. satoru hands fly out to grip the sheets with faux serenity as your pussy continues to clamp around him like a vice grip.

“ haaah, you just couldn’t w-wait to fuck yourself silly on my cock, huh?” his voice is eerily clear, as if he wasn’t a overstimulated mess from his previous release. you make fiery eye contact with him, the way how his eyes are hazed but still feel so heavy on your body makes you almost go numb. “ this is everything i needed baby, shit!”

“ that mouth never knows when to s-shut up.” you mutter out, before the action of you bouncing up and down on his lap increases viciously. the sinful sounds of your skin clashing down against his, every inch of him knocking on your sweet spot, and both of your sweet moans combined together sounded like an erotic song that gojo would never get tired of hearing. “ sa— mmph, satoruu!” gojo has the most cockiest but pathetic expression right now; his brows are furrowed while he shamelessly watched you recoil your body against his.

“ i . . . i think ‘m close, keep on rocking your hips like that— fuck, you’re so sexy!” his tip spasms in your tight space as a warning as of what’s about to come.

but suddenly, you stop moving. edging him on with a cheeky smirk.

you cut him off before he can talk, “ we can’t have you cumming just yet ‘toru.” he’s surprised he didn’t bust right then and there when you said his nickname in that sultry tone. you give him a vigorous show by rubbing two fingers on your pearl for his view.

“ such’a needy slut playing with her pussy f’me.” he bites his lip as he watches your clit swirl under your ministrations, his orgasm is on the back burner of his mind while he watches you. “ roll it just like that— there ya fuckin’ go, babe.”

once you feel your pleasure heighten inevitably, you resume back to bouncing on gojo. this time, with your hand advancing rapidly on your clit, and his calloused hands squeezing your ass heart fully. he effortlessly looks attractive underneath you, his chest and neck are flushed a sweaty mess as strands of his white hair sticks to his damp skin around his forehead.

“ wan’a cum with you, toru.” you lean over to nip his throat, your pussy contracts when you feel his breath hitch. “ want to feel you s-stuff me full, pleaseee fuck!”

it’s unintentional, but your whiny voice alone drags him into a powerful orgasm.

it’s not long before you follow suit.

“ my nasty good girl,” his voice comes out as an harsh whisper before he grabs your hair to tug you closer to his face. the kiss you share together is no short of animalistic; it’s all teeth with tongue, and when you pull away your lip is bleeding, tainting his own an alluring deep shade of red.

you force your hips to continue rocking against him due to the frenzy. increased squelches resonates through the fuzzy room along with your combined moans. you feel sparks of electricity shoot through your limbs, your cunt squeezes more slick out, creating a translucent ring around the hefty base of his cock.

there must be something in the air, seeing how many orgasms you pull out of each other.

for some reason . . . the strongest sorcerer in the world got struck by a lust curse.

and you’re able to bring him back a day later, with just your pussy alone.

[m00nl1ghts1vt]

You Like Me? - Matt Sturniolo

Part Two Pairings; bsf!Matt x bsf!Reader Summary; After Chris & Nick convince Matt to go to a party with them, he overdoes it and has to carried home. The night ends in a silly drunken confession. Wc; 1458 Warnings; fluff 🥰 strong language, mentions of alcohol use, vomitting, A.n; This is my first imagine & third post. Check out my Matt & Chris hc!! All reactions are highly appreciated ❤️ Current Matt series - City of Love

"Chris, you have to hold him up," Nick complains to his brother. You guys were coming in from a fun night out, after finally convincing their introverted brother to tag along, with the help of yourself of course.

You fumbled with the key, trying to put it in the keyhole but failing once again.

"C'mon Y/n, this man is fucking dead weight back here," Chris groans. You look over your shoulder to see a flustered, yet aggravated expression etched across his face. Poor guy.

Matt overdid it and had way too many shots tonight which was odd because you'd think he would've been completely out of his comfort zone, making him not want to drink at all but it did the complete opposite. Little did you know the only reason he even came out tonight was because you were going to be there and he couldn't bear the thought of sitting at home alone, not knowing if another guy was flirting with you or not. That and he had plans to let the liquid courage help him confess his feelings for you tonight. The feelings he had been dying to tell you since the third month of your friendship, when he actually figured it out it wasn't just attraction he had towards you.

You felt bad seeing the boys struggle to hold him up, each one of Matt's arms draped over their shoulders as he lets all of his weight hang at his feet. You quickly mumble a sorry before successfully sticking the key in the keyhole and unlocking the door. You push it open, stepping aside so you aren't in the way, going in behind them and closing it.

"Birds of a feather, we should stick together," you hear your best friend sing as his brothers drag him down the hall to his room. You throw your head back laughing as you stumble out of your heels. Matt already threw up twice - once at the party and another time in the car. It was in serious need of a detailing this week.

"Oh my fucking-," you hear Nick shout from Matt’s bedroom, "gross!" His voice is quickly followed by gut wrenching gags from Matt, or maybe it was one of his brothers. All you knew is that someone was puking so you raced down the hall, your own drunken haze wearing you down causing you to go slower, stumbling over your own two feet.

You turn the corner of Matt's bedroom, seeing him slumped over his bedside trash bin, emptying his stomach, for the third time tonight. Your motherly instincts kick in and you make your way to him, rubbing his back as he continues to throw up. His body wasn't used to that much alcohol, he wasn't a drinker at all.

"Oh Matt," you coo, attempting to soothe him as he hurls. You look over at his brothers, both covered in Matt's throw up with disgusted looks on their faces. "Has he eaten anything?" concern laced through your voice, "his stomach can't handle all the alcohol he had to tonight. Go get a couple pieces of bread for him to eat," you order, hoping one of them will do as you say so you don't have to leave Matt's side. You had been through the exact same thing he was going through one too many times, so you knew exactly what he needed.

Nick rushes out of the room, coming back with a couple pieces of bread and a bottle of water. He sets it down on the nightstand and takes a few steps back, clearly concerned about Matt because he's not worried about being covered in puke.

You look over at him, "you should go get changed. I got him, he'll be okay," reassuring him. Chris stood in the doorway, "are you sure?" He takes a few steps forward and looks at Matt, "what if he has alcohol poisoning?"

"Alco-whaa?" Matt grumbles, lifting his head from the trashcan and falling back on the bed.

"He'd be way worse if he had that," you tell him, "trust me," before sitting Matt up and wiping his mouth. To no avail, he slumps over and hits his head on the headboard, groaning and throwing a hand up to cover the goose egg that's more than likely forming. You sigh, pulling him up again, this time propping him up with pillows. "Here," cracking the water bottle open and bringing it to his lips, "drink."

Matt takes a sip from the water bottle, looking at you with his eyes bleary from the inoperative state the alcohol had him in. You smile at him, taking the water bottle away and replacing it with a piece of bread, "eat it," nodding him on. He takes a big bite and chomps on it, making you giggle. You look at Chris and Nick, kind of like you're reassuring them he'd be just fine. It works and they go on their way to clean themselves up.

You watch has Matt still chomps on his bread, staring at you with ogle eyes, "you're so fucking pretty," his speech is still slurred but a lot clearer than before. 

A blush creeps up on your face, "shut up, Matt. You're drunk."

"S'what," he slurs, a kool-aid smile stretched across his smile, "you're still gorgeous." 

Over the last year and a half, you and Matt had been friends, and he never flirted with you. So, your immediate thought was it had to be caused by his intoxicated state.

"Shut up and eat your bread," you mumbled a bit embarrassed. Thank God Chris and Nick weren't in the room, they'd never let the two of you live it down. Standing up to set the water on his nightstand, Matt reaches his hands out to your thighs, pulling you towards him.

You squeal at the sudden contact, "Matt, what are you doing?!"

"Cuddle with me," he whines, making sure to keep a tight grip on the backs of your thighs, pressing his head to your stomach. You look down at him, pushing a piece of hair out of his face. Matt looks up with the biggest puppy dog eyes, "please."

How could you say no to that face? Yeah, you found Matt attractive, who didn't? But you never thought he'd have his arms wrapped around your waist, begging you to cuddle with him. After debating with your inner conscious for a second, you convince yourself the outcome couldn't be that bad. Nodding to Matt, "fine," pushing him back and crawling up next to him.

His arm snakes around your shoulder and you lay your head on his chest. The two of you stay frozen in time for a while and he finally looks down at you, "I really like you, Y/n."

You snicker, "go to sleep, Matt." You were definitely giving him shit about this in the morning.

"I'm not that drunk anymore," he tells you in a defensive tone before sitting up, making you sit up with him. What was this kid getting at? Confusion spreads across your face and your eyes search the room, almost like you’re for hidden cameras. "The water helped," you hear him say.

"So, what are you trying to say, Matt," you keep your tone quiet. Was he implying he had feelings for you? You two have been friends for a little a year and a half so this sudden confession had you struck for words. Matt had never indicated he liked you or even looked at you as anything more than friends. There were no signs. This was out of the blue for you.

"I like you," he hums, obviously still drunk but not as drunk as before. He was sobering up by the minute now that the bread was absorbing all the leftover alcohol in his stomach. He looks at you, leaning in, "just told you that, silly goose," and bops your nose with his index finger.

"Y-you like me?" you stutter, trying not to overreact, "since when?"

"Since forever, duh," he laughs. Usually Matt would be embarrassed to no end having confessed his feelings to you but his intoxicated state put him at ease, "ask anyone. They all know," he nods proudly.

You ran your finger through your hair, not believing what you're hearing. "You're gonna regret this in the morning, Matthew," you tell him, using his full government name so he knows you're serious.

"Nuh-uh," he argues, "that's the only reason I got this wasted tonight, so I'd finally tell you." His final confession leaves your jaw hanging wide open, "ask my brothers. They knew the plan," he giggles before falling back onto his bed and letting the liquor take over his system, sending him into a deep sleep.

Not my photos for dividers. All credit is due to original creators! ❤️

Wrote this while taking a hot bubble bath. 10/10 recommend.

First imagine so let me know what you think!! 💚

My requests are always open!

[euthymiya]

friendly reminder ft. scar

you might have helped your boyfriend escape his jail cell, but that still doesn’t mean you’re done being mad at him for flirting with another girl

contents: fem reader ; spoilers for main quest—mentions of rover and scar interactions, mentions of reader helping scar escape jail ; established relationship ; reader is part of the fractsidus ; reader and scar are both low key toxic in a way that almost balances each other out to be healthy LOL. they are in love, just in crazy ways ; reader is not rover. in fact, she’s rather jealous of rover and scar loves it ; hand jobs—his cock zipper LIVES ; cum eating ; reader sits on scar’s lap ; not proof read pretend there are no mistakes if you stumble across one

“you’re awfully affectionate today,” scar chuckles, relishing in the trail of your lips along his face. they map out the marks that permanently reside along his skin, trekking the familiar path from one to another as you meet each destination. “i take it that means i’ve been missed?”

“hardly,” you grumble. but your actions say otherwise as your lips find his neck, kissing along the path to his pulse point, biting down and making him shiver happily at the pain.

“oh, i’m sure that’s true,” he snorts, humming happily at the way your teeth graze his skin.

it’s sure to leave a mark—and it’s on purpose. you’re lips aren’t there to reward him, or to shower him in your usual fondness. this time, it’s a reminder. it’s to make sure he knows you’re the one—the only one who can touch him like this.

“i think you should be more affectionate,” you glower, lips pulling away from him to form a sweet, precious little pout. it warms his heart, enough that he doesn’t miss the press of them against his skin as much as he normally would now that he gets to see that perfect little curl of your mouth. “i rescued you out of prison, you know.”

scar is never shy with his affection—but that doesn’t always mean he’s generous with it. sometimes, he withholds. just to be teasing, just to make you ache for it, just to be a bit cruel. it’s never enough to go too far, but it’s just enough to let him have his fun.

you don’t usually mind it. not until he seems to be generous with someone else.

“well now,” he drawls his words, almost like he’s playing a sick, twisted game. you think he is, watching him narrow his eyes in amusement as he leans closer, hovering his lips just above yours as he says, “rescue is a bit of a strong word, don’t you think? of course, i’d be fine escaping on my own, but needing a little aid here and there holds no shame, hm?”

you pull back as he leans even closer, not letting him feel the satisfaction of your lips against his own, glaring at him as you huff. you’re thoroughly unimpressed, and you want it known. (of course, all things considered, it’s a rather soft glare—as aggravating as scar can be, he’s easier to love than he is to be infuriated with. you know he knows it too, if the smug tug of his lips speaks for anything. still, you’re not pleased, and you think he should be made abundantly aware regardless).

“i could’ve left you in there,” you purse your lips, “stuck in that cell with hardly enough food and water because of that girl you’re so interested in.”

“oh?” he quirks a brow with a gleam in his eyes—so excited, so enthused by the prospect of your bitterness as you sulk, “is that jealousy i see on that beautiful face? oh my, we can’t have that, can we, my dear?”

“oh, am i your dear? i distinctly remember you calling her that too,” you huff, pulling back from him as you cross your arms.

he stops you, arms wrapping around your back and pulling him up his lap to press against his chest, closer and closer and even closer, until his mouth is back to being millimeters away from yours, hot breath fanning over you and sending goosebumps along your skin. he’s evil, too—traces the raised bumps with a delicate finger along your arm, chuckling at the way you shiver slightly.

“oh, this simply won’t do,” he pouts theatrically, “i didn’t think you’d take that so personally, sweetheart. you understand, don’t you? i was just trying to earn her trust.”

“hmph,” you turn away from him, looking off to the side stubbornly as you add, “i didn’t realize you’d have to have a happy little date, as i recall it, in order to earn trust. is her trust really all you want?”

“why, of course,” he gasps, hands cupping your face to bring your gaze back on him, his palms squeezing your cheeks together as your lips slightly pucker from the action, “how could i ever have it in me to want someone else when i have such a precious sight right before me? hm?”

that’s the thing about scar. so nice when he wants to be, so good with words, so easy to drip saccharine promises from his tongue like honey—sweet enough to mask the lethal taste of venom. one drop is all it takes to kill you. one drop is all it takes to weaken you to be his prey.

but you like it. you like this sick, twisted little game he plays. you like him when he makes you want him so bad, you long for a girl you’ve never even met to drop dead for ever getting fractionally close to him—even if it was all under a facade.

scar is never shy about his affections, but he makes you work for them. makes you earn them as he dangles them over your head. but you’re just as stubborn as he is cruel, never scared to make him earn your affections just as much as he makes you earn his.

you hum in thought, hand trailing down to his crotch as you trace along the zipper over his cock. he’s already semi-hard, much to your satisfaction. he doesn’t have the shame to seem embarrassed by it, either—grinning wider as he stares into you with a darkened glint in his eyes.

“i should’ve left you in that jail cell,” you mutter.

he pouts, so theatric as he leans forward and presses his forehead to yours. “don’t break my heart. i thought about you every second i was stuck in there, you know? it hurts my feelings when you say such cruel things.”

“oh does it?” you ask flatly, tracing the outline of his hardening erection through his pants. he hums and nods, letting out a soft, breathy moan as your palm at his clothed cock. “tell me something. would you kill her for me?”

“how extreme. that would be quite a shame,” he laughs, “she could be so useful, you know?”

you press the heel of your palm harder into him, earning a grunt as his hands grip your waist tightly with closed eyes. “would you?” you insist.

he opens his eyes to meet yours, dark with lust, sparkling with unyielding affection as he breathes, “of course. but you know that already, don’t you?”

you do. scar would kill anything—anyone. you like that. cherish it, even. blood would spill and life would drain before your love could die, and you like it that way. marvel in it. how satisfying it is, to have a man like him under your thumb, so intent to cross his already nonexistent lines just for you.

“good,” you finally smile, rewarding him with a proper kiss. he smiles himself against your mouth, letting you swallow his moans as your hand undoes the zipper over his crotch, pulling his hard, flushed cock free from its confinements as you slowly smear the precum along the swollen tip with your thumb.

he groans, biting your lip before he murmurs, “i missed this too in that cold little jail cell of mine. i missed how warm you always feel around me.”

your hand wraps around the thick girth, pumping the hot, velvety flesh as it twitches slightly in your hand. the filthy, squelching sound of your wet strokes mix with his low moans, a satisfying sound to your ears as you watch his face slack with pleasure, mouth parting to make the noises he knows inflate your ego.

scar is shameless enough to be loud, at least. it works both to your advantage and disadvantage at times. it’s certainly something you appreciate when you hear the proof of his pleasure, right there as the sounds bleed into you against your ear with hot breaths. but sometimes, when he takes you in not so hidden places, so risky and so dangerous of being caught, you appreciate his shamelessness a little less.

he’s never bothered by it, though. you think he’d love it, even, if anyone were to witness him fuck into you—so utterly careless of anything else other than having you as his.

his. because you do love being his, as difficult and infuriating as it might be.

“fuck, you always feel so good too,” he continues. he’s always so talkative, even when he’s dangerously at risk of cutting himself off with breathy, labored groans. you lean in, kissing along the scar of his left cheek as he whispers, “you feel that, don’t you? how hard i am just for you. what is there to be jealous of, sweetheart?”

“you should only be having dates with me,” you squeeze his cock tighter as you huff the words, stroking along his length quicker, earning a choked sound from him as he digs his fingers into your hips harder—it’s almost bruising. “the only one you should be calling my dear is me.”

“oh but you’re just so cute when you’re mad,” he pants through his laughs, closing his eyes and letting his forehead fall to your shoulder, humming before he bites into you as he muffles his sounds, “i can’t help myself. it’s nothing personal, okay? just a little good fun, that’s all.”

“i hate you,” you say petulantly.

you don’t. that’s why your other hand cards through his sweaty locks as his orgasm approaches quicker and quicker, the thick, pulsing cock in your hand twitching in your hold as he gasps, “oh now you’re really hurting my feelings. how can you say something so, so harsh?”

“i hate her too,” you say darkly.

he cums at that. like witnessing your jealousy gets him off, like hearing the pure hatred in your voice excites him until thick, hot ropes of cum release from his swollen tip, coating your hand as you stroke him through his high. he groans, a labored call of your name falling from his lips as he bucks into your fist.

you like the sound of your name on his lips. he sounds so good like that, strained from his own pleasure, so sickeningly smitten as he utters the syllables of your name like it’s his favorite word.

he says it so pretty. so sweetly. so affectionately.

one thing’s for certain—you know he’s never, ever said her name like this.

“look at you,” he coos once he’s done spilling into your hand, catching his breath as his head pulls way from your shoulder. your good hand is still in his hair, pulling it slightly to angle it up to meet your face as he grins and teases, “aren’t you lovely? rewarding me even when you’re mad at me.”

you bring your cum coated fingers to your lips, licking a stripe of his release off your hand before you reply, “just reminding you that no one could make you feel like this.”

“oh, sweetheart,” he tugs you closer, brushing your crotch against his still hardened cock as you gasp, “i could never, ever forget. don’t you worry, my dear.”

a) rover is cool and all but scar seems like he wants her so bad and it simultaneously is kind of hot but also kind of infuriating like you’re mine sir

b) a reader who’s low key crazy like him is the kind of trope i need. someone who will stab him and then kiss him, you feel me?

c) i need his cock zipper back i’m very mad they got rid of it. and i also need to see his cock too. i am, of course, disappointed as neither have happened so. :(

[mrs-kodzuken]

embers of love ⟢ atsumu m.

warnings: forgetful!tsumu, girlfriend!reader, arguments, mentions of best friend!osamu and bestfriend!suna, kissing-ass tsum tsum, fixing a relationship, mentions of proposing, cussing, angst to fluff to smut at the end (unprotected sex, creampie, rough but loving)

It's been two weeks since you've last had an actual, meaningful conversation or interaction with Atsumu. Being his girlfriend of six years, you had expected that he would always be attentive to his career more than you. Honestly, his career was very important to him, and you could see in some aspects if he slacked just a smidge with giving love. Some.

But this, this was ridiculous for him to be doing. You waited impatiently for Atsumu Miya to return home. The house you guys put a down payment for when things got rather serious, and you both realized that it is way better coming home to a home instead of an apartment.

You've known 'Tsumu since you guys were second years and then you both fell in love. Who knew that such young, sweet, innocent love would get you to where you are today?

You heard keys jangling into the keyhole of the front door and you remained in your spot on the couch you both went shopping for forever ago. The blonde man walked in, set his keys down on the tray, took off his shoes and started walking towards the bedroom.

It was as if he didn't realize you were even there. He probably didn't, the exhaustion radiating off of him in waves. It made you feel bad for what you were about to bring up, but it needed to be talked about before you cracked and brought hell to him.

"Atsumu," Your voice spoke out into the room, he stopped in his tracks. "We need to talk." You firmly demanded of the professional volleyball player.

He sighed, "Y/n, can we jus’ do this 'nother time? I'm fuckin' tired." His aggravated tone tore through you, fueling your anger even more.

Your face hardened as he tried to continue walking and ignore you.

"Miya, give me one reason why I should stay with your ass right now." You finally said the words you were so scared to say weeks back. However, you're done now, there's no going back for what you just said.

"’Scuse me?" He whipped around so fast, demanding to know where this suddenly came from. Not only had you referred to him as his last name but, you had spoken about leaving him? Were you out of your mind?

"You heard me. I'm tired of this shit." Your fists balled up, standing from your seat on the couch. You finally had his attention, and you weren't going to let it go now.

"What shit? Me goin’ ta work every single day ta provide a life fer us that ya wanted?" He retorted, crossing his arms obviously not wanting to have this conversation.

"Oh wow! You're so big and strong for going to work every day! I do the same fucking shit too, you ass. That's not what this is about. This is about how I haven't properly talked to you in two weeks and then before that it was almost a month!"

"Atsumu, I am your girlfriend. We've been together for six fucking years! Don't you think I'd want to see you, talk with you, love you?" You sounded exasperated with having to explain yourself as if he didn't see what had been going on through tired eyes.

"Ya know how important my volleyball career is 'ta me. 'S not my fault ya can't handle bein' by yerself." He scoffed, his words like ice to you.

You could've sworn your eye just twitched in anger.

"Why is this going over your head you blonde asshole. I'm saying that if you still want me here, want me to have my part in this relationship, then you also have to have yours." You seethed at him, entirely over his recent behavior because you didn't deserve it.

"I do, yer just so fuckin' needy. Dont'cha think that I should get a fuckin' break from havin' to do unnecessary shit when I hav'ta work late 'nd get up early?" His voice was beyond tired and ready to climb in bed and sleep. It was loud, bouncing off the walls and bouncing right into your ears.

Oh, he wanted to get loud.

"So, I'm needy now? Wanting the bare fucking minimum from a man who can't even see past his own actions to realize that he's about to be single is needy?" You scoffed at him, "I didn't realize that actually wanting you to be caring like how you were in high school was deemed unnecessary." You shouted, pushing past him to the bedroom, done with this conversation.

You had a bag packed already; it wasn't everything you owned because you didn't expect that you would actually get into a predicament like this. Perhaps staying one night over at a friend's place, not this.

You couldn't stand the tears that gathered in your eyes as you gripped your bag and tried to rush out of there. This has to be the worst argument yet.

"Now where tha' hell you think yer goin'?" He tried blocking your way, obviously still pissed and wanting to continue even if it didn't get anywhere. A habit that he possessed since high school that no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't get him to let go of it.

"Leaving." You didn't spare him a glance as you put on your shoes and grabbed a coat.

"Hah, don't fuck tha' first man ya see." He ridiculed, not caring that you were leaving because of him in the first place.

"Fuck you, Miya!" It sounded wobbly and raw, but you said it. You slammed the door shut and with it your heartbreak of the man you desperately loved and wanted to love you.

With a dial of your phone, you called someone who'd always let you crash at his place.

"Hello?" Suna's voice answered over the phone.

"Rin, can I please stay over tonight?" Your voice cracking, you knew you had to pull yourself together because this was the first time you've left like this and called Suna like this before.

"You're always welcomed here, you know that. What's wrong?" He asked, shuffling on the other side of the phone made you pause for a bit.

"'Tsumu and I had a bad argument." You didn't really want to get into it all over the phone, but it was almost a ten-minute walk to get to Suna's from your house.

Rin cursed under his breath and let out some other obscenities about Atsumu before speaking on the line, "You can stay here as long as you want, so don't worry. Have you talked to 'Samu yet?"

"No, no. Your house is closer and it, you know, it just happened and stuff so." You swallowed thickly, trying not to cry again over the hurtful words Atsumu is capable of.

"Okay, well, I'll be here and put the kettle on too. Want me to stay on the phone?"

"No, it's okay, Sunarin. Bye." You ended the phone call, using the last bit of time that you had to walk to his house to collect yourself.

You were sure that 'Tsumu didn't give two shits where you were right now, those hurtful words he said coming to the front of your mind. It was horrible to think that with a small conversation the behavior could have been fixed from him. It's not the first time either.

Fighting with Atsumu was pointless half of the time. He liked to be hurtful; he liked when it would get so bad too because he could say it was the heat of the moment instead of taking accountability. That really was a deciding factor if you did go the route of breaking things off with him.

God, that physically hurt your heart to the extreme.

Finally, you were at a safe haven for now. You didn't bother knocking on Rin's door, knowing he left it unlocked for you. You could feel the warmth of his house and it held a familiar smell too, like a home away from home.

"Rin?" You called, taking off your shoes and setting the barely packed bag at the entrance of the home.

"In here, Y/n." Rin spoke from the kitchen, nonetheless probably had the kettle on and tea ready for you.

Before even getting two steps into the room, you were engulfed in a tight hug. Rin was never one to really give hugs, only in special situations like this one for example.

"Wanna talk about it over your favorite tea that your best friend made for you because he cares?" Rin asked into your hair, trying to gauge your emotional state right now.

"Yeah, yeah. That's fine." You replied, not trying to let the new line of tears fall.

Within twenty minutes you were done explaining how long you've felt neglected by 'Tsumu and you hated using that word too. After thirty minutes you were trying to get Rin to not call Osamu, which would just make things worse for you.

"'Samu, you need to talk some sense into your shitty twin." Were the only words spoken by Rin before you tried grabbing the phone from him. That's when you got a facetime call from Osamu.

"Ugh, now look at what you've done. You made him facetime us." You rolled your reddish eyes at Suna who just put his hands up in defense.

"What happened, Y/n?" Osamu's face showed up on the phone screen, concerned tracing over his features most likely due to your appearance, you thought.

You sighed, "It's just 'Tsumu. We had a bad argument." You didn't really want to go into it in depth like you did with Suna only because looking at 'Samu was like staring Atsumu in the eyes.

"How bad? Need me ta' talk some sense inta' him fer ya?" The phone screen started blurring a bit as you watched Osamu start getting up and shuffling around.

"No!" You cleared your throat from embarrassment. "I mean, no 'Samu, that won't be necessary, okay? He just said some mean words and I did too so it's not like I'm all innocent either." You eluded eye contact to phone 'Samu until Rin shouted from behind you.

"Yeah, but he told her not to fuck any man she sees when she left, 'Samu." Rin's irritated voice spoke right after your own.

"Oh, that sonofa--don't worry, Y/n. I gotcha." And with that, the facetime call hung up. You stared at the black screen, not sure of what to do now either.

You groaned, "Rin, I don't want to think anymore tonight." You slumped on the expensive couch that he had. It had such a luxurious and soft velvet feeling, which could definitely be able to easily put you to sleep.

"Need me to get the drinks?" He asked, gesturing at the kitchen. Rin had his own bar in his house for some reason. It never failed to amaze you on all the hobbies he was able to pick up, and for this one it was bartending at his house.

"I'm good. I'm just going to shower and sleep, if that's fine. I don't want to deal with Miya's' shit anymore." And that made you pause. Did you really not want to deal with him anymore or was it his behavior?

Quite frankly you didn't know but you'd rather get black out drunk than think about it.

"Okay, well you know where everything is so. I'll be around if you need me. I'm here for you." Sunarin glanced back at you once more before leaving and it brought back memories of when you both were in high school too.

Suna was always there for you. Always knew how to crack you up and comfort you when you were sad. He's always been the best, especially when he welcomed you into the Miya twin's antics too.

While you were getting ready to sleep your sorrows away, Atsumu was ten minutes away wondering when you were going to come home. He's too proud to send you a text first of course, especially after those malicious words to you that he never thought he'd say to you.

He sat on the couch with his phone in his hand, his hair a mess after running his fingers through it to keep him calm. He was hesitant to text or call you to ask if you were coming home or going to leave him. That thought made his heart drop into his ass. So, he was about to dial the next best thing, his twin.

That's when he got a call himself from none other than his own twin. The blonde cursed under his breath, knowing you probably talked to 'Samu first.

"Hey, 'Samu."

"Don't 'Hey, 'Samu' me. I heard what ya said to Y/n. Now what tha fuck were ya thinkin' talkin' to a woman like that?" Osamu's voice came out in such an irritated, almost angry tone that it took aback Atsumu.

"She's tha one who talked 'bout leavin' me! 'Samu, is she at yer place? S’gettin' late, and she hasn't come back yet." He couldn't help but to run another hand into his already messed up hair.

"'Tsumu, get yer shit together or she's gonna fuckin' leave yer ass. And quite frankly? I don't blame 'er. Ya were bein' a real piece of dickwad shit ya'know?" 'Samu scoffed on the other side of the phone as Atsumu tried to beg once again of where you were at.

"'Samu, I know that okay?" He got up and paced around the living room. "I just, God, I don't know how ta' get her ta' forgive me when I was bein' like that."

"'M not goin' to give you all tha answers but ya need to make it up to her and actually be sincere about it. Now stop messin' around, you already bought a ring, dumbass. Ya watch yerself too, there's plenty of guys who know how to treat a woman right."

Before Atsumu could say anything or question what his brother meant by that, he heard the familiar beeping of the phone call ending.

"What tha fuck?" 'Tsumu thought aloud, even though there was no one home to hear him.

Before Atsumu could even let his brain process, his body was up and moving around. Soon, he realized he was making a little get-away for the two of you guys. It was like he woke up from a hazy dream he was sleeping in and needed to take control before he lost someone that he never thought he'd lose.

Soon enough, a get-away was planned for the two of you and Atsumu had made sure enough to spoil the hell out of you by leaving a lot of detailed instructions too.

He paid for a suite hotel room, ordered your favorite bouquet of flowers to surprise you in the bathroom, arranged a spa day for the two of you and a manicure and pedicure especially for you, champagne, and dinner reservations every night.

He also rented your favorite movies, shitty snack foods that you love, and he hates, rose petals in the room for when you both arrive and fake candles because he didn't want to accidentally burn down the room.

He only hoped that you wouldn't leave him the next time he saw you. Atsumu prayed to anything and everything that he would get another chance and be able to apologize to you before you could even say anything.

After collecting everything he needs and packing a bag for you and him, he was on his way to Suna's, determined to come to you and apologize the right way.

Atsumu knew you like the back of his hand, if you weren't with 'Samu then you were with Suna. The more he starts to think about how much he's missed you and hasn't really seen or talked with you in a while, it hurts. He could see why you wanted to dump his ass.

He had to make it right; he thought after he quickly parked and got out of the car. His skin chilled not only because of the weather but knowing you probably walked through this upset after he said words he wishes he could take back now.

Banging on the door, he didn't waste any time calling for you, "Sunarin! Open up, I know Y/n's in there!" He shouted, not caring that it was well late into the night either.

After a few moments of dogs barking and a couple front porch lights turning on due to his loudness, the door finally opened. Instead of Suna, like Atsumu originally thought, it was you instead.

The harsh knocking woke you up first since you had been sleeping on the couch and it's not like you could ignore it either. 'Tsumu was very adamant about things like this.

You opened the door quickly to cease his pounding on it and was met with familiar eyes that seemed to long for you.

"What do you want?" You cut to the chase, not wanting to hear the familiar sweet-talk he would always use to get out of you being frustrated with him.

"I'm-I'm here ta apologize ta ya Y/n." Atsumu's heart was pounding at the sight of you. Now he always thought you were beyond gorgeous but right now with your hair a mess and red, tired eyes he couldn't help but to feel terrible because he was the cause of this. Of your pain.

"Don't want to hear." You said, shutting the door, planning to ignore his advance of receiving your forgiveness. That is, until his foot was blocking the doorway.

"Please, please Y/n. Jus' let me apologize fer hurtin' ya. Please." He begged, wearing down at your already weary state. You were supposed to be pissed at him for the shit he's caused you, granted you have thought about ending things but now you're not so sure.

"Fine," You stated, leaving the door cracked to where you could shut it if needed be.

"Thank ya," He took a deep breath in before continuing. "I realized after ya left that I was bein' petty about our argument, and even before then too. I haven't been tha best boyfriend lately 'nd you deserve better from me. I'm goin’ ta be better fer ya startin' right now."

The emotion in his eyes as he started became thicker and so did the tightness in your throat. This was all you wanted, a promise that he would be better for you, so you didn't have to beg him to love you like you needed.

You didn't say anything, "I'm sorry fer spoutin' some shit like I did before ya left. I was jus' so mad and exhausted which isn't an excuse, I know." He ran a hand through his hair like earlier.

"I jus' hope ya can forgive me fer bein' so stupid. I realized that I could actually lose ya, yaknow? And that—it really scared me." He finished, hope and nervousness filling his eyes as he waited for a response, a movement, anything from you.

You took a sharp intake of air, "I was going to leave you, you know. I was tired of your shit and being treated like shit from you. I won't hesitate anymore the next time something like this happens, I'll just leave." You glared at the man who has your heart. You didn't want to forgive him but something so small, so tiny had told you to.

Atsumu looked so relieved as he blew out a sigh. "Thank ya, hon. Really. Thank ya so much." He reached through the door opening and hugged a bit of you that he could get.

Seeing your rugged state and blotchy eyes was something he never wanted to see again, especially if he was the cause of it.

"Can ya come with me?" He asked, in hopes of you saying yes. Since you had already stated that you weren't leaving him, his other part of treating you well was still needed to do.

You glanced backwards to make sure you both haven't woken up Suna and then nodded. You presumed that continuing what else that was supposed to happen would be best at your house instead of Suna's.

As you gathered your bag and folded the blanket on the couch, you sent Rin a quick text that you were headed home and would update him.

Getting into the warm car made you fight back the urge to fall asleep, knowing that you would be home within less than five minutes. However, that didn't stop the nulling of the ride from easing you to rest again.

Atsumu was thankful that you had fallen asleep in the car. The hotel was a few towns over, and he didn't really want to explain to you why he was taking a different route. Not to mention that it was the middle of the night too.

He was becoming tired after the hour and a half drive, but he fought to stay awake to check into the hotel and surprise you.

"Honey, hon, wake up." He nudged your shoulder, trying to wake you up gently.

"Hm? Are we home?" You asked, peeling your eyes open, except you weren't in your driveway. You were at a hotel; it was a very tall and large building at that too.

"Atsumu, why are we at a hotel?" You suspiciously asked, an eyebrow raised hoping that he didn't think he was getting lucky just because you forgave his behavior.

"Its'a surprise, come on honey. The valets are goin' to park our car fer us." He said, smiling and gathered a suitcase that you didn't even realize was in the backseat.

You followed along with your brows furrowed and confusion written all over your face. After checking in and getting the room key, Atsumu handed it to you, "I'll carry yer backpack too, ya can get the door, hon."

You assumed he was trying to be sweet and kiss ass since he hurt you but at the same time you felt bad because you had yet to apologize for your hurtful words to him as well.

The carpet of the floors was gentle as you walked down the long hallway and finally reached your room. Number 528 on the gold plate of the door.

You swiped the room key card, and the click was heard as you pushed open the ungodly heavy door. Immediately, you gasped.

The room was absolutely beautiful, red rose petals were scattered throughout the room, and fake candles lit up around the room as well. The lavender scent cascaded through it too, your eyes began to water, you couldn't believe that this was all for you.

"'Tsumu, did you do all of this?" You asked, breathlessly, your voice in your throat hitched as you turned towards him.

"Yes, I did. M’sorry fer hurting ya, hon, I promise. I'll be better fer ya from now on. I swear." You closed the distance between you and him as he let go of the door and it shut.

"I'm sorry too. I also said some hurtful words that I promise I didn't mean. I was just angry and wanted to be treated better by you." You sincerely said, happy now that apologies were out of the way, and he had gone out of his way to plan something like this for you.

"What about practice tomorrow?" You pulled back from the hug you had engulfed him in.

"I took some days offa work fer ya." He smirked his usual, "I gotta make sure ya feel loved yaknow?" Atsumu picked you up and carried you to the bed.

The white bedsheets were a stark contrast from the red rose petals you started playing with. 'Tsumu un-did the covers for you and tucked you in not before shutting the lights and getting in himself.

"I'm sorry this all happened so late, we should sleep in." He murmured from behind you. His warmth radiates like a heater to put you to sleep.

You didn't say anything about the half hard thing poking you in the back as you drifted off to sleep. Neither did 'Tsumu as he shifted his hips away from your ass to make you understand that he didn't expect sex from you.

"S'okay 'Tsumu." You mumbled before drifting to sleep with him holding you. He was glad you both made up, but he was more so excited to treat you well over these next few days.

After four days of gifts, love, and sweet-talking from Atsumu, you were getting needy, and you both knew it. It had started with him treating you to dinner every single night, breakfast in bed, kisses and random hip grabs throughout the days and even a spa day too.

It was like falling in love all over again from high school. This was the love you craved from your boyfriend. And naturally, it made you want to give him something special. Atsumu hadn't even been the slightest bit sexual with you since this little get-away had started, and that makes you feel all the wilder.

That's how you got yourself in the predicament now. You both were back into the hotel, getting changed for bed. You specifically wore your sexiest pajamas just for his eyes. He told you that tonight was a movie and snack night instead of fancy dining. You were all for it and enjoyed every second of being with him.

However, halfway through the movie, you couldn't help but to shift a lot more. Not really paying attention to the movie but to how you could tell you were having an effect on Atsumu.

You could see it as his jaw clenched and his eyes were fixated on the movie instead of how you were purposefully rubbing your ass on him with the excuse that you're just getting settled.

The dam broke for him and you when you didn't stop grinding on him but instead was using him to get yourself off and a moan slipped out. Suddenly the TV was shut off and you opened your lidded eyes to look over at your boyfriend.

"Y/n. What...?" Atsumu choked out, understandably trying to hold off on the need to make love to you.

"I'm sorry, 'Tsumu. I just want you so bad," You mewled, happy with the work you meticulously planned.

"Ya do? God, fuck, I've been waitin' fer ya ta say somethin'." Atsumu groaned out, as you gave him consent to whatever was about to happen between the two of you.

His strong hands flipped you around to your back and you gasped, forgetting that being a volleyball planner and hitting the gym a lot can cause him to manhandle you.

It's definitely been a while since you both have had sex.

He stuck a hand in your pajama shorts, realizing that you hadn't even put on any underwear either and groaned with need. His cock was painstakingly hard by now from your earlier ministrations.

"Fuck, yer so hot. So needy fer not wearin' any panties too." He chuckled with need.

Soon, you were positioned into a mating press, your legs folded against your naked chest. Above you, Atsumu was roughly giving you the pleasure you needed because with every thrust he gave, his trimmed pubic hair would rub your clit.

You couldn't help the moans that he tore out of you, missing the way he hurts you so bad by going a bit too hard.

"Uhg, fuck, I can't-" You moan to Atsumu, his eyes directly focused on the way his cock disappears inside of your pussy and the white ring you've formed on him.

God, he loved you.

"Yes, ya can. Yer not cummin' yet," He groaned as you squeezed him more when he started rubbing your clit in circles, which made your hips buck and head thrown back.

"Fuck, fuck, ah-" Atsumu's hips stuttered, the pleasure becoming too much and was on the brink of finishing inside your fertile cunt.

When your orgasm crashed onto you, your body shook, and legs tried to flail under his grasp. The tightness eventually stopped ‘Tsumu's thrusts as his hips bucked into yours as he came. You both tried to catch your breath but before Atsumu could stop his mouth he said, "Marry me." breathlessly to you.

Your head snapped out of the fog it was trapped in, and you widen your eyes, "What?" You finally out, your surprise of what he said taking over the moment.

"Marry me, Y/n. I love ya." Atsumu said, his hair damp and sticking to his forehead, his cock still inside of you, and the sweat from your bodies becoming much too hot.

"This isn't tha romantic moment I had planned, but m’serious 'bout marryin' ya." He firmly stated his hands on your hips as he gently pulled out of you to delicately pull you close to him.

"Uh, yes!" You laughed into his chest, what a dork.

You weren't expecting him to propose, especially when he got out of bed and reached into his black dress pants pocket and pulled out a fucking ring.

A huge ring at that.

Now your mouth was agape, you hadn't expected him to have actually bought the ring already. You teared up when he asked if you wanted to put it on, to which you nodded.

It fit like a glove; you were touched.

"I love you so much 'Tsumu, so much."

a/n: i hope you guys liked this! it was almost 5k words lol, i hope tsum tsum wasn't too ooc <3

[heqvenlymoons]

That One, I Want That One

Based on @fleursroses 's incorrect quote! <3

This is being posted as a oneshot on both my AO3 account and here on tumblr for now but I'm seriously considering turning it into a multi-chaptered fic because how well it was received. Someone said it had rom com potential and I can see it 😭

Daminette One Shot | Crack Fic | AO3

Damian tugged on the collar of his great dane, Titus, trying to get away from his imbecile brothers. 

It was a futile endeavour, as his brothers merely sped up their walking pace, talking over one another. 

“Come on, Dami! We just wanna know,” Richard— Grayson, because he was currently being a nuisance— whined. 

Todd scoffed, waving around the toy Nerf gun he insisted on bringing. “You know what? The brat’s probably better off without a wife, god forbid whoever gets stuck with him forever. I bet you, the little shit’s gonna be the one blackmailing someone into being his wife if he sees fit.” 

“Fuck you, Todd.” Damian’s fingers itched to grab his katana and slit it over his idiotic brother’s throat but at last, his father and pseudo grandfather figure, Alfred, had confiscated the knives he tried to sneak out on their business trip to Paris. 

Drake sipped on his coffee, his head bobbing up and down as he struggled to stay awake, even as he mumbled an incoherent, “You’re never going to get an answer if you aggravate him like that, Jay. Although I’d still like to know as well.” 

He hadn’t finished his sentence when he stumbled into a nearby pedestrian, almost kissing the ground had Todd not grabbed him by the collar at the last second.

During the mishap, the coffee cup Drake was holding spilled onto the floor, seeping into the ground as he stared at it with mournful eyes. “My coffee!” 

Todd rolled his eyes, letting go of the sleep-deprived Drake’s collar with an unsympathetic pat on the shoulder.

Damian’s lips curved up to a smirk. Perhaps that would keep Drake quiet for a few minutes as he mourned his spilled coffee. 

Unfortunately, that didn’t stop Grayson or Todd from their irritating line of questioning his so-called ‘love life’. 

Damian glared when Grayson pulled out the puppy doll eyes, accompanied by his repeated question, “Come on, please? Just answer the question— what’s your ideal type?” 

“Repeating the question with that pathetic expression of yours does not make me any more inclined to answer your question.” Damian spotted a bakery up ahead and approached it, ignoring Grayson’s pout. 

Perhaps his dingbat brothers would behave themselves in an embellishment full of people, although that would be wishful thinking on his part. 

His brothers, of course, followed him and continued to push their relentless questions onto him 

Todd grabbed his arm, stopping him, a glint of glee in his eyes, no doubt finding amusement in his current predicament. “You know, we’re not going to stop bothering you until you tell us.” 

Damian’s brows furrowed in annoyance, knowing full well from experience that his brothers would not stop poking and prodding until he did what they wanted. 

Right now, they wanted to know his ideal type, and they claimed his answer was to sedate their ever-growing ‘curiosity’ when he knew they wanted to utilize the information to set him up with someone. 

He scowled, making his decision. He would tell them only to make them stop badgering him about the inane question but that didn’t mean he was open to the idea of a relationship with someone they chose for him 

“Fine. My future partner must be brave, strong, intelligent, successful and organized. You imbeciles better not utilize this information to set me up with someone or I will stab you.” He hissed, sending them his most intimidating glare for good measure. 

Todd dared to smirk at him. “Not likely, Demon Spawn. And even if we did, you won’t stab us. You’re all bark and no bite.” 

In response, Damian kicked him in the knee, making the older double over with a grunt. 

Before he could continue his assault, Grayson dragged him away, Todd spitting curses from where he lay on the ground in a starfish position, the Nerf gun on the ground beside him. 

Grayson was already wearing the contemplative expression he had on whenever he was about to do something stupid. “Okay~ that’s enough, little D. Back to what we were discussing, your future girlfriend has to be brave, strong, and smart, you say?” 

Damian gritted his teeth. “You are paraphrasing at best but I assume you already got the general idea because I am not going to repeat myself for your benefit.” 

He turned and before he could turn the door handle of the bakery to continue his dramatic exit (or in this case, dramatic entry), the door flew open and it would’ve hit him in the face had it not been for his quick reflexes.

The scowl reappeared on his face and he turned back to reprimand the person who dared try to attack him with a door to see a girl about his age, shuffling past his bewildered brothers in a hurry. 

Damian blinked, watching as the girl with raven-haired pigtails promptly tripped over nothing, crashing into the pole, the box she was holding fell from her hands and macaroons came tumbling out. 

He watched with interest as the girl mumbled out apologies to the inanimate object, picking up the fallen macaroons from the ground while she did and putting them back in the box. 

Snapping out of his daze, he handed Titus’s leash to Grayson before moving to help the girl, grabbing the remains of the macaroons from the ground and placing them in a neat row in the box.

He held out a hand for the girl to take, which she accepted with a grateful look and he pulled her to her feet. 

Getting a good look at her face, he was filled with a fluttering sensation in his stomach and he ignored it, thinking he must be coming down with a stomach bug. “Are you alright? That was quite a fall.”

Her bluebell eyes were blown wide, staring into his green ones with surprise. She broke the stare first, shaking her head before responding, “I’m fine! Thank you for your help, I’m sorry you had to see that.”

Her phone dinged and she yelped. “I’m sorry but I’m already late, see you around, mysterious handsome but kind person!”  

He opened his mouth to respond but she had already sped away, only catching sight of her red face as she turned.

His face heated as his mind caught up with her words. The girl was definitely something… 

He felt an arm going around his shoulders and he didn’t react, still staring in the direction the girl took off. 

“So, didn’t know Demon Spawn had it in him to talk to a pretty girl without scowling,” Todd drawled, the beginning of a teasing expression appearing on his face when he noticed the dazed look his youngest brother was sporting. 

Damian shoved him away, looking distracted.

Drake shook his head, mumbling, “I must be hallucinating, Demon Spawn would never willingly talk to someone, much less a girl.” 

“That one. I want that one.” Damian declared, unknowingly sending his adopted brothers into cardiac arrest at the words that fell out of his mouth. 

Grayson looked torn between looking wary and gleeful. “Uh… what do you mean by ‘that one’, little D?” 

Damian didn’t look at him as he pointed in the direction the girl ran off. “Her.” 

Todd’s jaws gaped like a fish, for once, speechless. 

Drake in his sleep-deprived state can only dumbly respond, “That’s not how it works, Damian. You can’t just go around adopting people.”

Damian finally dragged his gaze away from the direction the girl had long run off in, glaring at his brothers with his cheeks blazing red. “Not adoption, you imbecile.”

Not giving them the time to respond, he continued, a look of stress crossing his expression before he willed it away. “You lot have to keep Father from adopting her, it would cause complications.”

Grayson hummed. “She does meet the criteria, black hair and blue eyes.”

Todd seemed to have unfrozen, shaking his head in denial. “Wait wait wait, just wait a second. You’re saying, she’s your ideal type? You literally met her 5 minutes ago! I thought you said your future partner must be and I quote ‘brave, strong, intelligent, successful and organized’?” 

He prattled on, not paying attention to how Titus had taken to getting slobber all over his shoes. “No offence to her but she tripped over air and crashed into the poll in front of her. The clumsy behaviour caught your eye of all things? Are you sure you haven’t been abducted by aliens?” 

Damian glared, the red not receding from his face. He rounded on Drake. “Do a full background check on her, it is necessary for me to know everything about her if she were to be my partner.”

He paused, scowling. “Actually, I better do this myself. I need to know everything about her, it is better if you imbeciles stay as far away from her as possible. She does not need you all to monopolize her time.” 

He grabbed Titus’s leash from Grayson and headed in the direction of Le Grand Paris to do just that, leaving behind his shell-shocked brothers. 

Jason turned to his brothers, looking amused now that he had gotten over his shock. “So, who’s gonna tell him that stalking is not the right way to woo a girl?” 

[fraugwinska]

Going with the times was amazing! Thank you so much. If I may can I get another Alastor x Reader who is a very affectionate person like always going in for hugs if she's close to them and she gets drunk and starts trying her hardest to give Husk a hug because he looks so grumpy, so he summons Alastor to come get his girlfriend. Who then gets incredibly happy to see him and just clings to him after he picks her up. Id also like to see Angels reaction to all of this.

You are awesome!

No, YOU are awsome! :> I do love Husk and Angel together, throw drunken Reader into the mix and we have ourselfes some chaos :D I sincerely hope you like it! <3

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Take the edge off

It had started so innocently. 

For the first time since you met him, Husk had actually, actively invited you for an after-dinner-sendoff-drink at the bar, along with Angel. 

Coming from him, the one that had been the most on the fence with you, you didn't dare to pass this opportunity. It was understandable though. Husk had a deep distrust in Alastor, and, by proxy, in you when he had introduced you to the surprised residents as his ‘courtship’. 

You had visited the hotel often after that, staying for activities or dinners, bringing over some baked goods or homemade treats if your work schedule allowed time for it, lending listening ears and comforting hugs in spades to anyone who needed it and earned the admiration - or at least acceptance of your presence - from almost everyone over time. Almost. 

Husk, ever the skeptic, had made it clear to you he wouldn't want to have any relations to demons who chose to stay at Alastor's side, let alone his ‘partner’. 

But you stubbornly persisted, even though it had hurt, even though Alastor would pat your head and tell you it was wasted labor - you still tried, bringing an extra bottle of the herb sirup you knew Husk liked to spice his drinks with, or you tried to engage him in conversations about things you learned he was interested in. Now, your earnest efforts had seemed to finally been fruitful - instead of invading, you were finally invited to sit at his bar. 

In all the nervousness of not fucking this up, you drank too much, way too fast. You were a lightweight on good days, but now, after five not-so-kid-friendly drinks in the span of less than an hour, you were… unhinged. 

“I told ‘ya the last Gin Tonic was too much for her!”

Angel snorted with laughter, two hands holding you back from climbing over the bar to an aggravated Husk, arms outstretched and whining loudly. 

“Huuuuuuusk, come on, just oooone!”, you struggled against Angels grip on your waist, eager to reach the furry demon and put your arms around him, “I give the bestest, bestestest hugs ever, you cannot not smile, I promise!” 

Husk ducked with a mumbled curse, dodging your gripping hands when Angel temporarily lost grip on you because he laughed too hard at the chaotic mess that you were - normally his job, with Charlie as the babysitter - oh, how tables turned. 

“Fuckin-... how the hell was I supposed to know that she'd turn into a goddamn demonic care bear?!” Husk grunted, pulling the feathery end of his tail out of your hands - you had caught it with delighted giggles and glee, and pouted when it slipped out of your fingers. 

“Niffty! YO, NIFFTY!”, he bellowed, looking down to find her already at his side behind the bar. 

“Shit, you're fast. Oy, go and get Alastor, pronto, tell him his friggin’ girlfriend is…” Husk was pulled back by his neck, a sudden weight on his back making him swallow the end of his sentence. You had managed to escape Angels restrictive hands, and slung your arms around the cat demons neck, nuzzling your cheeks into the fur on his back. 

“Theeeere ya go! Feel the frown turn upside down!”, you sang, words muffled by his pelt, grip as strong as iron. Husk groaned, prying at your hands, but - to no avail and Angels absolute amusement - you tightened your hold on him the more he struggled. 

Niffty tilted her head, clearly not fazed by what was happening. Angel heaved, clutching his chest as he tried to calm down enough to speak. 

“Niff, just… pfff, stop that, leave his whiskers alone babe, holy shit, huh-huh, okay, okay… just run an’ tell Smiles to get his doll before she strangles Husky, okay?”

The little bug nodded eagerly and scurried away. 

Angel turned to Husk, still a highly bemused grin on his face. “‘Ya know, having the radio demons lover hanging around ‘ya neck might earn ‘ya some major street cred.”

“Oh, you fuck off if yo’ can’t help.”Husk growled, trying to ignore your figure, still clutched onto him like a living backpack. “Get off me kid, come on, dammit.”

“But you're not happy yet.”, you said innocently, refusing to let go. 

Angel gave Husk a meaningful look. “‘Ya know, she really does give great hugs, when she's sober and not batshit crazy drunk like this.”

“I don't need hugs, I need a fucking drink is what I need.”

“Huuuuusk…”, you whined again, quieter now, sadder. “Why do you hate me?”

Husk stood still, exchanging a look with Angel, who seemed pitiful now. He nudged his head to the two of you as a silent command: Say something nice. Husk sighed, patting your arm around his neck awkwardly. 

“I don't hate yo’, kid.” 

“Yeah you do… I just want to be friends, see your happy face, smiling… but you hate me…”

Angel narrowed his eyes at him, mouthing ‘Do better’, and he huffed. 

“Jesus fuckin…, listen, I don’t like yo’ choices of men, but ...you're alright. Way better than yo’ bitch ass of a boyfriend at least.”

Angel opened his mouth to say something, but the sound of Alastor's signature jazz background music approached and he quickly decided to just sit back, out of the immediate danger zone but near enough to have a first class seat to whatever would happen now. 

Alastor walked up with an amused smile and curious expression. 

“Evening, my fellow friends. Niffty came to me with a cryptic message, about my darling doe strangling our beloved bartender?”

Husk scoffed, turning around so the radio demon could see you hanging on him like a koala on a tree trunk, pointing at you. “This yours?”

Alastor laughed, his face lighting up in a softness Husk had seldom seen before. 

“Indeed, it seems to be.” He chuckled, stepping up to you. “Darling?”

You rose your head at the sound of his voice, smiling happily when you recognized him. 

“Al!” He caught you with ease when you jumped from Husk’s back straight into his arms, patting your back as you locked your arms around his waist. “My, those two did their diligent work, you are quite inebriated.”

You giggled into his coat. “Yup, I am hammered like a rusty nail!” You lifted your head, beaming up with tired eyes at his bemused grin. “And Al, guess what! Husk said I'm not an ass like you, so he doesn't hate me anymore! I’m alright!”

Husk, who rubbed his sore neck, froze at your words, quickly shooting the radio demon a glance. Static crackled and for a second, he shivered from the licks of electricity running over his spine, making his fur stand up. But nothing further happened. Alastor just smiled at you, ignoring the cat demon completely, and ruffled your hair. “How good for you love, you did it afterall! But it’s late now, why don’t you stay here tonight?” “That’d be nice…”, you sighed, sleepy and exhausted.

You let his waist go, only to wrap your arms around his neck as he scooped you up to carry you. Angel and Husk gawked at the scene before them, questioning reality as Alastor, of all people, pressed his lips to the crown of your head, which made you humm and turned to leave, leaving the bar without so much as a cheerful "Good night, chums.".

Angel leaned forward, elbows on his knees and hands in his hands, watching the pair disappear in the dark with an amazed expression. "Man, she really takes his villain-y edge off, doesn't she? Kinda scary how she gets Smiles to almost behave human." Husk poured himself another drink. "Scary doesn't even cut it." He took a huge swig, but he still had to grin.

[ruthlessrps]

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐍𝐄𝐘'𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 (𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟕) 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒. - feel free to make any adjustments as necessary!

"what is the measure of a true hero?"

"will you listen to him?"

"lighten up, dude."

"i'll take it from here, darling."

"it was a nasty place."

"behave yourself."

"look how cute he is."

"he's strong. like his dad."

"keep those away from the baby."

"let the kid have a little fun."

"is this an audience or a mosaic?"

"there's the little sunspot."

"i regrettably have a full time gig."

"you'll work yourself to death."

"i know you know."

"did you cut your hair or something? you look fabulous."

"my fate is in your lovely hands."

"okay, fine, fine. i'm cool, i'm fine."

"how do you kill a god?"

"perhaps they've answered our prayers."

"that boy is a menace."

"he's too dangerous to be around normal people."

"he didn't mean any harm. he's just a kid."

"i'm warning you. keep that freak away from here."

"you shouldn't let those things they said back there get to you."

"i try to fit in, i just can't."

"i feel like i really don't belong here."

"i have often dreamed of a far-off place."

"this is where i'm meant to be."

"i know every mile will be worth my while."

"i would go almost anywhere to feel like i belong."

"it's the symbol of the gods."

"you're old enough now to know the truth."

"how do you become a true hero?"

"i will please the gods."

"you sure this is the right place?"

"haven't you ever had a dream?"

"come inside. i want to show you something."

"every single one of those bums let me down."

"dreams are for rookies."

"i'm different from those other guys."

"i'm too old to get mixed up in this stuff again."

"i'm down to one last hope."

"you're not exactly a dream come true."

"you'll have to do."

"now that's more like it!"

"you want a road test? saddle up, kid."

"not so fast, sweetheart."

"i'm a damsel, i'm in distress, i can handle this."

"what are you doing? get your sword."

"a hero's only as good as his weapon."

"is wonderboy here for real?"

"at least i beat him, didn't i?"

"did they give you a name along with all those rippling pectorals?"

"are you always this articulate?"

"who are you calling a rodent?"

"he comes on with his innocent farm boy routine, but i can see through that in a new york minute."

"people here are nuts because they live in a city of turmoil."

"it seems to me that what you folks need is a hero."

"i have this terrible fear of heights."

"try to be a little bit more careful next time."

"i don't think we covered this one in basic training."

"you gotta admit - that was pretty heroic."

"he was so hot steam looked cool."

"everybody's got a weakness."

"there is nothing you can't do."

"it's great to see you. i missed you."

"you sound like you could use a break."

"i didn't know playing hooky could be so much fun."

"wonderboy, you are perfect."

"when i was a kid i would've given anything to be exactly like everybody else."

"you're the most amazing person i've ever met."

"when i'm with you i don't feel so alone."

"i would never ever hurt you."

"let's both do ourselves a favour and stop this."

"that's it. next time, i drive."

"no man is worth the aggravation."

"get yourself another girl. i'm through."

"i can't believe you're getting so worked up about some guy."

"people are gonna get hurt, aren't they?"

"now you know how it feels to be just like everyone else."

"i know what i did was wrong, but this isn't about me."

"if you don't help him now, he'll die."

"people always do crazy things when they're in love."

[eddieandbird]

i just saw a quiet place day one ....................... i need eric x reader fics so bad 😭😭😭😭

not me taking this as an invitation to write one. -bird

Everest—

You take a study break with Eric

tags/warnings: fluff | 1k words | genderless reader

———

“Your eye is twitching, do you know that?” Eric's lips wiggled as he fought a smirk.

“Stop looking at it,” You quipped with your eyes glued to the overly blown out white screen in front of you.

Eric picked up the brightly colored energy drink can that sat beside your laptop and shook it, swishing the small amount of liquid inside.

“How many of these have you had today?” A low chuckle came from him as he tossed it into the waste bin beside him.

“I don’t know, a couple I guess,” You rubbed a fist into your eye, your voice was gravelly and tired.

Eric got up from his seat and walked up behind you. He placed his hands on the back of your chair, leaning over your shoulder to take a closer look at your document.

“I see you’re on the same paragraph you were on twenty minutes ago,”

You swatted lightly at his arm to get him away from your space. “Cut it out, I’m just stuck. I’ve been writing and rewriting this paper for like three days straight,”

You threw your head in your hands, massaging your temples. Not one thought you had about this project manifested into a single sentence in your paper. Your level of aggravation in yourself was steadily climbing.

“Eric, I gotta finish this. It’s like forty percent of my grade,” You groaned, pulling down at your cheeks in exasperation.

“It’s like forty percent of my grade,” Eric mimicked your accent, taking a seat beside you. “You are so American, it’s ridiculous,”

“Did you come over to study with me, or mock me?” You shot him a glare.

“To study. Not to watch you fall into a catatonic state over this essay,” His calloused, warm hands engulfed yours, making your breath catch in your throat for a moment. “You need a break,”

“Eric, I really need to finish,”

He rolled his eyes, standing up and pulling you to your feet.

“You’re not going to finish if you’re falling asleep at the keyboard. Come on, let’s go do something for a while,”

“Fine, fine, fine. I guess I’ve already wasted a couple hours, what’s a few more,”

As you got on your feet, you rolled your neck around your shoulders, then shook off your limbs to wake yourself up a bit.

“Where are we going, London boy?” You asked.

“First of all, I’m from Kent. Second of all, it is a surprise,” Eric chuckled.

“Kent, London. Same thing,”

You stuck out your tongue at him before grabbing your phone and wallet and stuffing them into your back pocket. He grabbed his backpack off the floor and slung it over one shoulder, gesturing for you to follow him.

“You’ll just have to wait and see then,” Eric said as he walked out of the library, holding the door open for you to walk through first.

You threw your laptop into your bag and followed him out. You flinched as a strong gust of cold air hit your face.

“Shit, do we have to be outside right now? It’s freezing,” You grumbled.

“Oh, stop. You’re being a child,” Eric retorted, tickling your side briefly. “You could use some fresh air,”

You pulled in the hood of your jacket to block some of the wind. “Please tell me we’re not going to be outside for much longer,”

Eric chuckled, his mouth agape as if he were offended. “You’ve lived in New York longer than I have. You should be used to it by now,”

“That means nothing. Me being here longer doesn’t make it suddenly feel warmer,” You retorted.

Eric took a turn around a corner you usually never went down before. You quickened your steps to catch up to him.

“Um, what’s down here?”

“A new café. It just opened up last week and they have this great drink I’ve been ordering,” Eric said with a sly grin.

A skeptical look came across your face, but it was too late to argue. Eric soon was holding a door open for you. You were soon seated in a booth.

“Two Everests, please,” He told the waitress with a nod.

“Everest?” You tilted your head. “What the hell is that?”

“You’ll see,” He responded.

The café was quite charming. It had dimly lit Edison bulbs hung around the walls. The smell of coffee and fresh pastries lingered in the air. As you took your seat, you couldn't help but give Eric a suspicious look.

"Eric, you better not be trying to poison me or something. What the hell is an 'Everest'?"

He chuckled, crossing his arms on the table in front of him.

"Just trust me. You'll like it,"

The server soon arrived with two mugs the size of cereal bowls, filled with hot cocoa and topped with tall swirls of whip cream.

Your mouth hung open in shock as they set it down on your table, a silent laugh caused you to bounce in your seat.

“Eric, what the hell is this?”

“What? You said you were cold. Warm yourself up,” He snickered, sticking his spoon into the drink.

“You seriously drink this whenever you come here? And I’m the child?” You teased.

“Hey, there is no age limit for hot chocolate,” Eric pointed his finger at you.

Before you could take your napkin to wipe your face, Eric’s hand swooped in and did it for you. You scrunched your nose with a grin.

“Thanks,”

“See, I told you, you’d like it,” He smirked, looking pleased with himself as he pointed to your drink. “I bet you’re ready to hit that essay again when we get back,”

“Wow. Do you really believe this hot cocoa can grant miracles?” You giggled before taking another sip.

“No, but I believe in you,” Eric folded his arms, looking at you for a bit before leaning forward. “You’re brilliant and you will get that paper done. Today’s the day. I’m manifesting it, or whatever,”

Your heart fluttered a bit at his words, but you tried to play it cool.

“Is that so?” You feigned skepticism, arching an eyebrow at him.

Eric leaned back in his seat, a smug smirk on his face, “You’ll see. You’ll finish that paper and you’ll absolutely ace it.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corner of your lips.

“Yeah right. Like your ‘manifesting’ will do anything,”

“I have so much faith in you, that I’ll make you a promise. If you get anything higher than a C on this paper, I’ll finally go out with you to that stupid karaoke bar you’ve been pestering me to take you to,” He said, scratching the back of his neck, trying not to look too nervous or unwilling.

“We’re doing three duets,” You glared at him, testing how far you could take it.

“Let’s start with one. I don’t want the other patrons ears to bleed,” he spoke behind his hand as if it were a secret.

“Deal,” You gave a satisfied grin and held your hand out.

[trenchcoat-turtle]

F around and Find Out

My phone buzzed beside me. The number on the screen is not one I’m familiar with so I text back a quick,

‘who is this?’

‘Is this y/n?’ was the reply.

‘Yes…are you going to tell me who you are?’

‘It’s Derek, we used to hook up.’

I sighed inwardly as I read the last text. I haven’t talked to Derek in at least two years, not since starting my relationship with Leo.

‘Sorry if it’s weird that I’m texting you, I know it’s been a while.’

I didn’t bother texting back until I saw his next text message.

‘Are you single yet?’

‘Helloooo?’

I sighed and replied back, ‘I’m still with the guy I was with when I blocked you. I blocked you on every social media and snapchat. Get the hint.’

I sat my phone down on my bed when I heard a soft tap come from my the window at my fire escape. Leo let himself in and came to wrap strong arms around me.

“I wasn’t expecting you so early tonight.” I told him as I melted into his embrace.

“Not a lot going on tonight, surprisingly.” He spoke as he trailed kisses down the side of my neck.

I let out a breathy moan as he continued kissing my neck, my ear and my collar bone.

The moment was ruined when my phone started buzzing. The screen lit up with the words ‘maybe Derek’ and his number displayed above it.

Leo stepped back for a second and looked at the phone on the bed.

“Derek? You mean that douche bag from a couple years ago? I thought you blocked him.” His tone was almost accusatory.

“I did block him, he must have gotten a new number and decided to contact me.”

He huffed and grabbed the phone from the bed to answer it. He put the phone on speaker.

“Can I help you?” Came his gruff reply.

“Who is this?” Derek asked.

“Leonardo, y/n’s boyfriend.”

“Jeez man, can’t believe you guys are still together. Who said you can’t make a hoe settle down.”

My mouth dropped open in shock.

“Look, you don’t know me, so I’m going to let you go with a warning. Don’t you ever contact her again or I will hunt you down and make you wish you had lost her number.”

“I’d like to see you try dude. I’m 6’0 and I lift weights, I bet I could fuck you up.”

Leo laughed at that, “Like I said, you don’t know me. So I’ll let that go.”

“Whatever you say, pussy.” Derek spat. “y/n, when you’re finally ready to ditch this loser let me know, I know you miss this cock.”

That last sentence seemed to break something in Leo’s resolve. He simply hung up the phone  and blocked the number.

“I need to head to back to the lair. I need to talk with Donnie.” Leo spoke quietly.

“Please just let it go, Leo. He’s pathetic and not worth it.” I said, grabbing his arm and pulling him toward me gently.

He placed a soft kiss on my lips before turning and going back out the fire escape.

Derek laughed to himself as he tried to call you again but it went straight to voicemail. He picked up his burner phone and dialed your number again.

“Hello?” y/n’s voice traveled through the phone.

“Me again. That was very rude of your boyfriend to hang up and block me.” He replied.

“I think you’ve truly made a mistake contacting me again. You should definitely watch your back.”

“Sure. Whatever you say sweetheart.” He snorted. “I know eventually you’ll get tired of this dude and come back to me. I mean, that’s what you always did before, right?”

“Yeah, that was when I hated myself, Derek.” You replied as you hung up the phone and proceeded to also block this number.

Derek shook his head and laughed again. He felt satisfied with himself for aggravating you and Leo so he stopped his phone games and went to the kitchen to grab himself a beer from the fridge. As he popped the top off the bottle he heard a sound come from outside on his apartment’s fire escape. As quiet as he could he stepped around the corner and peered into the room where he noise had come from.

He dropped his beer and it shattered to the floor as he lay eyes on Leonardo emerging through the fire escape window. His mouth open in shock as Leo stepped toward him.

Leo towered over Derek.

“—who…what the fuck are you?” He yelled as he backed away from Leo’s advancing form.

“Nice to formally meet you, I’m Leonardo. Y/N’s boyfriend.” He said with a smile as all the color drained from Derek’s face.

“Look I’m sorry man, I didn’t mean anything I said.” Derek spoke as he put his hands up.

“Oh I thought you said you could fuck me up?” Leo laughed.

“Just shit talk dude, I swear.” He was crying at this point.

Leo grabbed him by the throat and slammed him against the wall.

“If you EVER call, text, or even so much as think about y/n, I will hunt you down again and next time I won’t be so nice.” Leo spoke menacingly.

Derek choked out, “I won’t, I won’t! Please just let me go.”

Leo released his grasp from around the man’s throat and he fell to the floor with a dull thud. He turned to leave back through the fire escape but before he left he turned to Derek and said, “Also she told me you were the worst hook up she ever had and she mostly only put up with you and your tiny cock out of pity.”

And with that he exited through the window.

Derek never contacted you again.

[jobean12-blog]

A Place Made for Love

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader (No-outbreak Joel)

Word Count: 5,081

Summary: You're new to the small town Joel's lived in all his life and just the sight of you has him feeling a certain way so when he learns that you've bought the old bookshop and you're moving into the apartment above, it turns his familiar world upside down.

Author's Note: This one got away from me. I love the idea of Joel just living his life and doing construction and being grumpy and then reader comes along and really gives him a run for his money. Had to include a bookshop for this because along with Joel, it's one of my favorite things. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always!❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics Thank you Daisy! 🥰

PS Bold font means texts and anything italics is like an inner thought lol

Warnings: grumpy Joel, sassy reader, tension, flirting, softness and smiles, fluff and sweetness

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

You trudge down the canned food aisle feeling completely indecisive but hungry and growing more aggravated by the second.

As you round the next corner you’re sifting through the contents of your basket when you walk headfirst into what feels like the wall.

“Ow!” you yelp as you stumble back.

A strong arm wraps around your waist to steady you and you look up, blinking.

“Better watch where you’re goin’ there darlin’.”

Your body tenses at the feel of him pressed against you and you mutter something inaudible under your breath before slipping from his grasp.

“Not even a thank you,” he muses as he turns to follow you.

“Weren’t you going the other way?” you shoot back.

“Just realized I forgot the pasta,” he says, leaning over your shoulder to whisper the words close to your ear.

You force your betraying body to remain calm at his proximity and then ignore the comment.

“What the hell are you gonna make with that mish mosh?” he asks as he peeks into your basket.

“Why do you care?” you counter with a brittle smirk.

He shrugs as the corners of his mouth turn up into a grin.

“Maybe something to poison you with…that would be nice.”

Your sassy remark makes his whole face light up with a smile and it momentarily roots you to the spot.

With one last disgruntled glance you stomp off in the other direction. “Since I’m new here you’d think you’d be a little more neighborly!”

“Fuck,” Joel mutters as he follows you.

“Ok darlin’.”

“Ok what?” you ask as you turn to face him.

“Maybe…” and he paused, studying you. “I could be a bit more friendly.”

He looks back down at your basket.

“You know if you grab some beans and a pepper you’ll be well on your way to making a great chili.”

“Chili,” you repeat.

You look between him and the basket. “That works. Although…”

“You’ve never made it before?”

At his question you fight back a sigh.

“No. I haven’t. But I’m capable of looking up a recipe.”

“Or I could just tell you about some good take-out places.”

You roll your eyes.

“I can manage to cook my own dinner, thanks!”

At the sarcasm in your tone his grin widens before he starts to step around you, his arm brushing yours with the motion.

“Great darlin.’ Just don’t burn the place down or anything. It’s the only bookshop in the neighborhood and we all love it.”

He winks and saunters off.

The urge to turn around and watch him is almost overwhelming but you square your shoulder and keep your chin up. “I can make chili,” you assure yourself.

Joel sits across from Tommy and sips his beer, waiting for his brother to make a dinner choice.

If Tommy notices Joel glancing too many times at the small bookshop across the street, he doesn’t mention it.

“You’re quieter than usual,” Tommy remarks as he drops the menu and leans back. “What’s on your mind?”

Joel grunts before looking across the street again. “Work.”

“This new job we have is a big one. I want it to go perfectly so they hire us for the rest of it.” Joel continues.

Tommy nods in agreement but he’s battling a smile.

“Somethin’ you wanna say brother?” Joel asks.

Tommy grins. “I might have somethin’ to say.”

Joel grinds his teeth and tightens his grip on the beer bottle.

“Heard you had a little exchange with our new bookshop owner at the grocery store this mornin’.”

“Who said?” Joel asks, pinning Tommy with dark eyes.

“No one of importance,” Tommy shrugs. “You’re starin’ a hole through the window.”

Tommy’s eyes glitter. He’s clearly enjoying himself. “Heard she didn’t back down and run off over your…charm.”

“You’re worse than a school girl. Spreadin’ gossip around.”

That makes Tommy laugh and he takes a swig of his drink.

“Still,” Tommy says. “I can’t blame you…she’s real nice to look at and probably a lot of fun when you get her goin’…which you seem to enjoy doin’.”

“Tommy,” Joel warns as his jaw tightens. “Don’t go sniffin’ around any of that and don’t ask me to explain why.”

Tommy dips his head in understanding, his mouth tight in a straight line but his eyes bright with amusement.

“Not a single sniff. You’ve got my word brother…”

Tommy’s head swings around and his attention settles on something happening in the street. “What the hell…?”

Joel jerks his head in the same direction and in matter of seconds he’s out of his chair and charging through the door.

Without thinking he runs toward you and let’s out a breath when he looks you over, the large pot between your fingers and a garbage bag over your shoulder.

“Are you hurt?”

“No,” you breathe, staring at him. “Where the hell did you come from?”

His relief at the fact that you’re unharmed is obvious even as he takes the pot from you and grabs your wrists, turning your hands over to check.

His skin is warm and his fingers are calloused. The sensations cause your mind to go blank and you stand there motionless.

Once he’s satisfied he looks down at the pot and the black contents inside. He’s still holding your wrists.

“I burnt it,” you say quietly. “The whole upstairs apartment smells awful so I thought I’d better get rid of it quick before the shop started to stink.”

“I can take care…” Tommy begins to speak and Joel whips his head around just now realizing he was even standing there and glares so Tommy snaps his mouth shut.

Joel looks back at you and slowly releases you, the loss of his touch something you instantly feel.

Tommy covers a cough and you drag your eyes away from Joel to glance at his younger brother.

“Hey,” Tommy says and extends his hand.

You reach out and shake it to introduce yourself.

“I was saying I could help you out with that but I think my brother here has it under control,” Tommy quips.

“Damn right I do,” Joel says, hands on his hips.

“Thanks Tommy, I appreciate the offer,” you smile.

Tommy tips his head and walks back across the street to the bar.

Joel’s hard eyes turn to you in an assessing way but he remains silent.

“Aren’t you going to make some shitty remark about my cooking skills,” you snip.

His broad shoulders slump and he holds out his hand.

“Here, give me the bag.”

You hand the bag over and watch as he empties what he can of the contents and then stares down at it with pursed lips.

“Might have to…” he starts.

“You can just get rid…” you say at the same time.

He drops the pot into the bag with a laugh.

It catches you off guard and when he meets your eyes again the surprise is evident in your wide-eyed expression.

“No shitty remarks darlin.’ Just glad you’re ok…and you didn’t burn the place down.”

The last part of his comment trails off into quiet mumblings but you still catch it.

“Couldn’t help yourself huh?” you say but you’re fighting back a small smile.

The two of you stand there on the sidewalk for what feels like forever until Joel clears his throat and you look up at him through your lashes.

“Guess your dinner’s ruined,” he states.

“You could say that. I’ll have to go aimlessly walk around the grocery store some more in the hopes of finding food.”

His large hand runs through his already mussed hair before it settles on the back of his head and he shoves his free hand into his jeans pocket.

“Hey uh, listen darlin’…I’m sorry if I was rude earlier…at the store…and the other times before that. It was wrong of me.”

Your expression softens.

“Thank you, I accept.”

Joel hums and flicks his head toward the bar. “I had just ordered dinner before you came running out. Go in and eat it.”

When you stare at him he plays back his words and realizes they came out as a demand.

“If you want to,” he adds. “Join me. For food.”

You smile and slide past him. Your distinct and soft scent wafts up to his nose and he instinctively inhales, his eyes closing briefly before he starts to move to follow you.

He motions to the small table and pulls out your chair, waiting for you to sit before he does the same. His thick fingers wrap around the fork, making it look comically small, before he hands it to you and pushes the plate closer.

You stab a French fry and pop it in your mouth.

“So Tommy…you guys work together?”

“Yeah. Construction. We actually have a big project coming up in the city. Working on one of the new fancy hotel buildings.

“That sounds exciting. I guess it’s not really a 9-5 job then?”

“Nah, not really. Some days we spend doing small, odd jobs around the neighborhood and other times we’ll be on one job for weeks or months.”

You nod. “What do you do in your spare time? Besides follow women around the grocery store and make snarky comment on their food choices.”

“Gonna hold that over my head for long?” he asks.

You look him over and pretend to think about it. “Not sure yet.”

“Fair enough,” he sighs, noticing you stopped eating and nudging your arm with his elbow. “Eat.”

“Are you always this bossy?” you ask as you chew.

His eyes drop to your mouth and the way you lick the salt from your lips.

“Maybe,” he replies, the sides of his mouth twitching with a smile.

“Fair enough,” you tell him, mirroring his earlier words.

The whites of his teeth appear with his lopsided smile

“You plannin’ on trying to cook chili again?”

“Maybe,” you answer, loving the way his eyes crinkle at your repeated and mocking words.

“So now that you know a little more about me why not tell me why you’re here in our little town?”

He settles his forearms on the table and leans in, watching you with intense eyes.

“Well,” you start with a sigh. “I’ve always wanted to run or own a bookshop but my job in the city was keeping me so busy I barely had time to read and of course it’s easier said than done. For a while I didn’t mind…the work that is. Sure I was busy but I figured my life was just what it was supposed to be. Had a nice apartment, steady job, steady boyfriend…until I didn’t. He broke up with me over a text and then refused to answer my calls and explain why. After that, my job became less and less appealing as did living in the city so when his opportunity came up I had to jump on it as scary as all the change is.”

You wait and hold his gaze. “What are you thinking?” you ask.

“I’m thinking a lot of things,” he says quietly before stealing a fry off the plate.

“Like?” you ask.

Like where I can find your ex-boyfriend so I can give him a proper beating.

When he still doesn’t speak you continue talking. “I’m thinking about the renovations I want to make to the bookshop. It’s nothing crazy. Just some minor changes to make it more of a cozy space.”

“That sounds nice,” he answers. “It could use some upgrades.”

“Definitely. And the door to my apartment upstairs doesn’t even lock! I need to get that fixed first.”

Joel’s eyes narrow at your statement. “That’s not safe.”

You smirk and steal the next fry that’s dangling between his fingers as they hover over the plate.

“Maybe I’ll look up some cute contractors online to come help me.”

He sits back, crossing his arms over his chest and spreading his legs wider under the table. Your gaze moves to the way his biceps pop under the tight fabric of his shirt.

“You could. If you wanted the job done poorly.”

“Are you saying you’d be able to do a better job?”

“Damn right darlin.”

Was this still about renovations to the shop?

With that thought still floating around in his brain he watches you stand and pop one last fry into your mouth.

“Thank you for sharing your dinner with me,” you say before rounding the table. “I like it when you’re nice.”

And I even like it when you’re bossy. Maybe too much.

You kept that last thought tucked away and lean down to kiss him on the cheek before lightly brushing your hand over his shoulder and walking out the door.

Tommy drops into the now empty seat, grinning ear to ear.

“How’d that go boss?” he asks.

“Shut it,” Joel growls.

Later that week with the sun just peeking above the horizon you hear a knock at your door. It startles you into alertness and you sit up with a gasp, dropping your book to the bed.

Your feet hit the cool floor and you ask, “who’s there?,” hoping to keep the shakiness from your voice.

“It’s Joel.”

“Oh,” you whisper, now suddenly even more alert but much less jumpy.

Before you open the door you quickly run a hand over your face and scrub away the sleepiness. You turn the knob and have it halfway open before you realize you’re barely dressed, the only thing covering your body is the old tee shirt that hits way above your knees.

You stop and peek through.

“I’m um…I’m not really dressed. I was in bed reading.”

“Shit,” Joel mutters. “Sorry darlin.’ I didn’t even realize the time. I can wait till you’ve put somethin’ on.”

He doesn’t move away from the door and you open it a little wider before slipping away to grab shorts.

“Fuck,” he mutters quietly but not quietly enough and your lips turn up into a triumphant smile.

When you return you open the door invitingly and then notice the toolbox at his feet and meet his eyes.

His cheeks are dusted with pink and not even the scruff lining them can cover it. It’s hard to hide your smug satisfaction but you do your best.

“What’s that for?” you ask.

“I came to change the lock for you,” he explains hoarsely.

“Oh,” you answer, feeling your stomach erupt with nervous energy. “Why?”

“I’m leaving this morning. To go to the city and start on that hotel job. Won’t be back for a few days. I just…”

He kneels down and starts rummaging through the tool box, metal clanging against metal so you can barely hear him when he adds, “wanted to make sure this place was safe and secure.”

Your fingers fiddle with the hem of your old shirt.

“That’s really nice of you.”

“Well.” He stands and starts working on the door. “I saw you hadn’t done it yet and I didn’t want you calling any random guys.”

“Because you can do it better. Right?”

He doesn’t look up from his work and just grunts his acknowledgement.

You take the opportunity to move toward the small kitchen area and start making some coffee.

“Coffee?” you offer.

He looks up at you as you lean against the counter with your bare legs on display. His eyes drag down the length of them before he shakes his head no.

“Already had a cup thanks.”

He finishes the lock and puts his tools away before approaching. His hand moves to his back pocket and he pulls out some folded papers, setting them on the counter.

“I brought some take out menus.”

“It’s probably too early to be insulted.”

“This isn’t me telling you not to cook. These are just in case you don’t want to cook.”

“Ah,” you answer. “I could have just looked this up online.”

“Yeah well I don’t have your number so how would you know the best places to get take out.”

You stare at him from over the rim of your steaming mug.

“Maybe you should take it,” he says abruptly. “My number…in case…”

“I need cooking advice again?”

He makes an affirmative nod and smiles.

“Ok, what’s your number?” you ask as you reach for your phone.

The relief on his face doesn’t go unnoticed by you and he recites the digits as you punch them in.

When you hit dial on his contact his eyebrows draw together as if he’s trying to figure out where the sound is coming from.

“That’s you. Now you’ll have my number too.”

You giggle and the corner of his mouth lifts a little. “Right.”

You set your coffee down and push yourself up onto the countertop.

With one more almost imperceptible sweep of your legs he coughs into his fist and turns toward the door.

“Thanks Joel!” you call after him.

He waves with barely a turn and flies down the steps.

The rest of your day is spent figuring out the renovations for the bookshop space downstairs. You clean, declutter, and really start to map things out in your head. By the time the late afternoon sun is setting you realize you’ve missed lunch and you’re starving.

“I should try chili again,” you say to yourself.

After a quick and much less exciting visit to the grocery store you head back with a bag full of Joel’s recommended ingredients and get to work.

Two hours later you have a large pot of bubbling and unburnt chili on the stove.

Without thinking too much into it you snap a picture of the food and send it to Joel with the caption, “I did it! And it smells amazing!”

Before you even put your phone down his response dings in.

“Wow darlin.’ Looks amazing. Save me some.”

You’re about to reply that you definitely will when another text comes through.

“And I’m hoping you didn’t burn anything down?”

He follows it with a silly smiling emoji and you answer with, “nope! Everything and everyone is intact,” including your own smiley face emoji.

“Perfect. And I meant it. Save me some.”

“Please…” you type and then send another message saying, “so bossy!”

He responds quickly. “Save me some. Please.”

He adds a kissy smiley face and you giggle before sending one back with a thumbs up.

It’s easy to flirt over text. You aren’t overwhelmed by his masculine and sexy presence. By the smell of him. Woodsy and spicy. And his hands aren’t there teasing to touch you.

All you can think of while you enjoy your bowl of chili is how you can’t wait for him to come back this weekend.

When Joel returns from his trip he rushes home to shower and change. It’s already late but he needs to see you and you should have a bowl of chili waiting for him.

When he pulls up to the bookshop and parks his pickup he frowns at the darkened space.

Maybe you’re out? With someone…

Pushing the invasive thoughts aside he gets out and walks to the large windows, peering inside.

Nothing.

The scuffle of feet pulls his attention away and he catches sight of you sitting across the street by the park, your feet dangling along the pavement.

He approaches slowly, making noise so you don’t get scared. You look up and tense but instantly relax at the sight of him.

“Was wonderin’ where you were,” he murmurs.

“You’re back,” you say. “I have chili for you.”

You half smile but your eyes fall.

His chest tightens.

“Darlin’?” he asks before sitting down next to you.

His thigh brushes yours and his arm is close enough that you feel his warmth.

Your sniffle and hug your arms around your body.

Hesitantly he lifts his arm and rests it lightly across your shoulders.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

When you don’t pull away and instead lean into his strength he tugs you closer.

“I tried to start doing some work on the bookshop. I just wanted to take off the old and peeling wall paper but I think I fucked things up. I’m not sure how to fix it and really I have no idea what I’m doing. It’s a mess.”

Your confession softens him and he runs his calloused fingertips along your smooth skin, sneaking them under the sleeve of your shirt.

“I’ll take a look at it. I’m sure we can fix it.”

You were so soft. It took everything in him not to pull you even closer and wrap you in his arms.

“It’s a mess. I’m a mess. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing!”

“Don’t do that,” he says. “Don’t put yourself down. It pisses me off.”

You look up at him and gasp. “You? Pissed off? That’s new.”

The corner of his lips lift and his eyes sparkle. “I deserve that.”

You wipe your nose and give him a smile.

“Maybe. But only a little.”

You lean your head on his shoulder and sigh.

“We’ll sort it out,” he assures you.

You look at him with soft eyes full of gratefulness. His gaze moves lower…to your mouth and his lips part as if to speak but the sound of a loud car horn makes you jump apart.

“How about that chili?” you ask as you start to stand.

“Sounds great darlin’.”

You walk toward the building, tensing at his side the closer you get, knowing he’s going to see the disaster you’ve made.

He stops you with a hand over yours.

“For what it’s worth,” he whispers. “I think you’re really brave for comin’ here to start over.”

The tension slips from your shoulders and you take his hand, giving it a squeeze.

“You did it,” you murmur. “I’m still upset but…I feel better. More hopeful.”

He smiles before you turn to unlock the door and your hyperaware of the feel of his hard body behind you. It takes everything in you not to turn around and throw yourself at him but you manage to get the door open and offer him some chili.

The next day, being Sunday, should be a day of rest but your new-found determination has you up and out of bed bright and early, ready to conquer the wallpaper debacle and then some.

You’re saved from wondering where to start when the front door of the shop opens and in walks Joel with a tray of coffee and a bakery bag.

“Hey there darlin’,” he says. “Thought you’d be up and ready to work.”

“Hey back,” you wave.

He fills the doorway with his body and you try to focus on the smell of fresh coffee and sugar.

“That for me?” you ask and point to the tray in his hand.

“Yeah.”

He crosses the small distance and places the tray down on one of the old tables. You reach for the coffee and open the top, inspecting the contents of the cup.

“You know how I take my coffee?” you ask, raising a brow.

“I pay attention,” is all the answer you get.

You stood dumbfounded for a moment until you remembered that you had made coffee the other morning when he fixed the lock on the door upstairs.

“Thank you.”

Your gaze travels to his and there is some kind of silent communication between you. You can’t believe how much he can convey without actually speaking. Your breathing becomes shallower as he continues to look at you and you know, by the determined set of his jaw and confidence simmering in his gaze that things have really shifted.

When he finally pulls his eyes away you let out an audible breath and take a sip of your coffee.

“What’s happening here?” he asks as he looks over the mess of a wall. “You want to get rid of this?”

He moves closer and toys with the wallpaper.

“Yes and then I want to…”

You start rattling off your ideas in a long run-on rambling sentence without taking a break and when you’re finally done you find him eyeing you with both an amused and thoughtful expression.

“Right,” he said. “Well I know a good place to get lumber and all that so we can shop later but for now let’s get this cleaned up.”

He turns and strides for the exit, passing your trash bag from yesterday that was too heavy for you to lift.

“You want this out for pick up?” he asks.

“Yes, please,” you respond.

With zero effort, he tosses the bag over his shoulder and walks out. When he returns he’s carrying his toolbox.

You peer through the window and see his pickup truck and one trip at a time, he brings more supplies and tools.

Grabbing the back of his sweatshirt he drags it up and off, bringing his tee shirt underneath along with it, and you catch a glimpse of what’s beneath.

“Shit,” you mutter.

Now that he’s only in a tee shirt you can see the deep cut of his triceps and forearm muscles every time he lifts or handles something.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

“You alright there darlin’?” he asks when he hears your quiet reflections.

“Huh? Me? Oh yeah, just fine thanks. Um…I want to help so just tell me what to do…you know be bossy. You’re good at that.”

He steps closer with a sideways smirk, his warmth coasting over you, and his gaze falls to your mouth, taking it’s time before finding your eyes again.

“Keep ripping that wallpaper down. I know it looks a mess but you’re doing it right.”

The words themselves hold no sensuality at all but the way he says them, the way he leans in close and whispers them along your ear…it sends a shiver right down your spine.

As the days pass you continue to work and make progress on the shop. Some days it’s just you and Joel and other days Tommy joins you both to help. On the days when Joel has to work he gives you detailed instructions on what to do and how to do it. You’re proud of how much you’ve accomplished together but also on your own.

At the end of the week, with the late afternoon sun already making it’s way toward the horizon, you notice the shop is oddly quiet. No sound of the saw or hammer.

“I have something to show you.”

His low and gravelly voice pulls you from your current task of polishing the small table tops and your nerves fire up.

When you stand and walk closer he looks you over from head to toe. You’re covered in dust and your skin is glowing with a light sheen of sweat.

You look down at yourself then back up at him.

“Is it that bad?” you ask with a halfhearted smile.

“You look beautiful.”

He holds his hand out and you take it, letting him pull you toward the back of the shop.

You step behind the last row of bookshelves and stop short.

“Joel…”

The large bay window is now framed by two brand new floor to ceiling dark shelves. The polished wood gleams in the setting sun and every beautiful accent swirl and grain is highlighted.

“It’s amazing! I just…I love it. Thank you!”

He takes the rag from his back pocket and cleans his hands while he watches you from under the dark strands of hair that have fallen over his forehead.

“Glad you like it darlin’.”

“No. I love it Joel. How can I ever thank you.”

“Have dinner with me…and not here…on the floor of the shop like we do some days. A real date.”

You suck in a small breath and curl your fingers together. “Did you think you needed to build me this to convince me to go on a date with you?”

“No,” he says as he shoves his hands into his pockets. “I was workin’ up the nerve to ask you and this was a good distraction.”

“Oh…” You say the words and your mouth forms a little ‘o’ shape. “I…I mean…of course. I’d love to have dinner with you.”

He looks down at his feet and nods firmly, a smile playing on his lips. “Alright then.”

He starts to gather and pack up his tools. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at six.”

You shake your head yes and realize you’re not speaking and as he turns to walk away you move forward while calling his name.

One second he’s holding the tool box and the next it’s on the ground next to him and he’s turning toward you. Your momentum brings you right into his chest and his arm wraps around your lower back.

He waits for you to speak, his eyes wandering over the features of your face before focusing in on your parted lips. His fingers splayed along your lower back dig into your skin and he tugs you closer as he dips his head.

Your palms land flat on his hard chest and slowly dance upward along his broad shoulders.

“Thank you.”

The words are just a whisper but you manage to get them passed your lips and he looks like he’s about to speak but instead covers your mouth with his.

The kiss is worshipful but you can feel his restraint in the tense and flexing muscles of his body and your fingers find purchase at the back of his neck and comb through his hair.

His hand slides up your back and he presses you closer as he lifts the other to cup your jaw. The callouses on the pad of his thumb scrape deliciously across your soft skin and he moans like you’re the best thing he’s ever tasted.

When the need for air finally takes over he releases your mouth just long enough to look into your eyes before he dives back in, stealing your breath all over again.

The door to the shop opens, the newly installed bell atop it ringing loud and clear through your kiss filled haze.

“Oh shit, sorry,” Tommy says sheepishly when he appears by the window.

Joel breaks the kiss, his chest heaving with harsh breaths and he stares at your mouth for a few long moments while you cling to him. His hand eventually drops away from your back and his fingers trace along your jaw and then down your neck to pull your ear to his lips.

“Tomorrow night,” he murmurs. “Six.”

@hiddles-rose @lorilane33 @lizette50 @littleseasiren @blackwidownat2814 @kmc1989

[e-vay]

The Shadora Horde - 2023!

Here are all the ShadowXAurora kids I've made (so far hahaha!). As I always mention, I'm always open to Shadora fankids that you guys make. I can never have too many Shadora babies. I made changes to the original 5 so they're now closer in age and I also balanced out their powers more. Some of them were a little OP originally but I think I've fixed it. I have super detailed descriptions of each character below the cut!

PIPER

Birthday: 11/12 (1st Born)

Age: 16

Role: Leader

Powers: Combustion, Weapon Summoning

Weaknesses: Disorder

Dream Voice Actor: Brittany Snow

Theme Song: “Smile” - Wolf Alice

Piper is the first born in the first litter of Aurora and Shadow and is the natural leader of the group. She is generally sweet and respectful but is very proud of her pedigree so can be a little judgemental at times. She is a perfectionist to a fault and will become easily aggravated if things don’t go her way. Though she can be cocky, she is overall a caring and loving person and is quick to help those in need. Piper has naturally wild bangs and a large patch of fluffy fur on her chest. These traits drive her crazy! She always has her bangs pinned down to the side and her chest fur covered up. In her teen years she takes up motorcycle riding and it helps loosen her up and embrace her more wild side. 

Piper is capable of harnessing the power of the Chaos Emeralds to perform Chaos Blast and Chaos Control. Without the need for Chaos Emeralds, Piper has combustion powers. Piper can incinerate objects with a snap of her fingers. She has excellent mastery and precision of this skill. She was given the task to train Cinder to control his combustion powers, but the two tend to get frustrated with each other since control comes so naturally to Piper and it’s incredibly foreign to Cinder.

Piper is naturally drawn to Amy’s hammer wielding abilities and grows up admiring it. Though she isn’t allowed to use the Piko Piko Hammer, Amy trains her in good hammer-form with the use of props. IF Mammy Amy ever decides to retire, she will bequeath her hammer to Piper. The hammer’s design will change based on Piper’s personality.

-

ZANE

Birthday: 11/12 (2nd Born)

Age: 16

Powers: Super Speed

Weaknesses: Arachnophobia 

Dream Voice Actor: Robert Buckley

Theme Song: “We Are Young” - 3OH!3

Zane is the second born in the first litter of Aurora and Shadow. Zane is a daredevil and an extreme extrovert. He is most like his Pawpaw Sonic with his quick wit and high energy. He does not like emotional confrontations and will go out of his way to avoid uncomfortable situations. Even though he’s mostly easygoing, he butts heads with his dad a lot. 

Zane is a huge flirt and frequently develops intense crushes on people, but due to his short attention span, he’ll move on quickly (think Romeo with Rosaline). Zane is very fond of children and enjoys being the center of attention. Even though Piper is the leader of the group, the younger siblings tend to follow whatever Zane is doing. Lucky for Piper, he mostly listens to what she says.

Zane is capable of harnessing the power of the Chaos Emeralds to perform Chaos Control. Without the need for Chaos Emeralds, Zane has super speed. He wears special shoes that can transform based on his needs, but he prefers the motocross boot style when he’s not running.

For hobbies, Zane likes to do extreme stunts and attend/throw parties. He has dreams of being a DJ with his brother Nova. 

-

NOVA

Birthday: 11/12 (3rd Born)

Age: 16

Powers: Plasma (Ionikinetic Combat)

Weaknesses: Laziness

Dream Voice Actor: Josh Keaton

Theme Song: “Weirdo” - K.Flay

Nova is the third born in the first litter of Aurora and Shadow. He is very peaceful in nature and would rather find roundabout ways to solve problems than coming to blows (though he attributes this to knowing he would cream his opponent due to this strong bloodline). He’s a bit of an oddball but he embraces his quirkiness instead of being concerned about how others think of him. He often comes off as aloof and is rather lazy.

Nova is capable of harnessing the power of the Chaos Emeralds to perform Chaos Control. Without the need for Chaos Emeralds, Nova has plasma/Ionikenetic powers. He can shoot radioactive plasma at his enemies which can burn or dissolve material on impact. Nova does not like using his powers because they are so destructive. 

Nova is very close with his brother Zane and will go along with his schemes, even if his heart’s not entirely in it. He is artistic and tends to live a very messy, disheveled lifestyle. He loves to collect things and can be considered a packrat. 

-

ASTER

Birthday: 4/8 (4th born)

Age: 15

Powers: Telekinesis, Telepathy

Weaknesses: Codependency 

Dream Voice Actor: SungWon Cho [x]

Theme Song: “Despair and Traffic” - SOFT PLAY

Aster is the first born in the second litter of Aurora and Shadow. Though he seems rough on the surface, he’s actually the most academically intelligent of all his siblings. He is loud and passive aggressive but can appreciate the beauty in peace and quiet when he chooses. He is very theatrical and enjoys making a huge spectacle out of his battles, including saying poetic catchphrases and even coining the term “Prepare for the Blitz-Aster Disaster!” He is secretly a romantic at heart.

Aster is rarely seen without his sister Blitz. He is the brain to her brawn. Though he’s the more level-headed twin, Blitz’s dominant personality tends to direct their fighting strategies. He does not know how to be independent, which can be used against him.

Aster is capable of harnessing the power of the Chaos Emeralds to perform Chaos Control. Without the need for Chaos Emeralds, Aster shows early signs of telekinetic and telepathic abilities. He hasn’t mastered many techniques yet, but with some proper training it’s possible he could become a force to be reckoned with. If only Blitz would shut up for 5 minutes so he could concentrate!

Aster enjoys challenging mind games, like chess. 

-

BLITZ

Birthday: 4/8 (5th born)

Age: 15

Powers: Energy Blasts (“Chaos Spear”)

Weaknesses: Codependency, Impulsivity

Dream Voice Actor: Jessica DiCicco [x] [x] OR Chloë Grace Moretz [x]

Theme Song: “God Complex (Mojo)” - poutyface

Blitz is the second born in the second litter of Aurora and Shadow. Blitz is brash and forward but can be a little spacey. She has a short attention span and is easily bored. She considers fighting as a form of playing. She is very proud of herself and her heritage and isn’t afraid to namedrop to get her way. 

Blitz is rarely seen without her brother Aster. She is the brawn to his brain. Blitz’s dominant personality tends to direct their fighting strategies despite her brother’s concerns. She is very theatrical and enjoys making a huge spectacle out of her battles, including saying poetic catchphrases and even coining the term “Prepare for the Blitz-Aster Disaster!” She is very codependent and hates doing anything without Aster.

Blitz is capable of harnessing the power of the Chaos Emeralds to perform Chaos Control. Without the need for Chaos Emeralds, Blitz has the natural ability to perform Chaos Spear which can dagger her enemies with energy.

Blitz loves fashion and is a huge trendsetter. She would love to be a fashion designer if world domination doesn’t work out (She’s just kidding – relax already!)

-

Cinder

Birthday: 2/18 (6th born)

Age: 14

Powers: Combustion, Stellar Tantrum

Weaknesses: Migraines, Short Temper

Dream Voice Actor: Michael Daingerfield [x] [x]

Theme Song: “Tantrum” - Ashnikko

Cinder is the first born in the third litter of Aurora and Shadow. He has a very short temper and is incredibly impatient. He is the most like his father in that he is not very talkative and would rather be left alone than socialize with others. His outbursts of rage can often be used to his enemies’ advantage by being misdirected to his siblings and teammates. He is also terrified of himself, which makes him constantly on edge. 

Cinder is NOT capable of using Chaos Emeralds and instead has to rely on his natural abilities. Cinder has combustion powers, but unlike his sister Piper, his powers are based solely on his emotions so he has a very hard time commanding the direction and radius of his blasts. Piper was tasked with training Cinder to better manage his combustion powers, but the two tend to get frustrated with each other since control comes so naturally to Piper and it’s incredibly foreign to Cinder. When Cinder goes into a blinding rage, his fur and eyes change color and sparks of energy will fire off randomly around him. When in this form, he can perform a move called “Stellar Tantrum.” This move is highly destructive and will incinerate any and all objects nearby. He has absolutely no control over this power once it’s unleashed.

As a child, Cinder was more outgoing but still prone to crying outbursts. However, during one particular fight with his sister Diamond, he accidentally unleashed a Stellar Tantrum and severely burned her. Luckily Boon was able to use his healing powers to reverse it, but Cinder has never forgiven himself and has never been the same ever since. Cinder requested a special Inhibitor necklace be made to help dampen his powers, but it’s not very effective. It works more as a placebo than anything else. He keeps everyone at a distance whenever possible and thinks there’s something evil in him, despite his parents’ reassurances. 

Cinder doesn’t like to discuss his hobbies, but he actually loves baking and reading books.

-

DIAMOND

Birthday: 2/18 (7th Born)

Age: 14

Role: Tank

Powers: Brute Strength

Weaknesses: Poor eyesight, Light sensitivity

Dream Voice Actor: Kimberly Brooks [x] [x] [x]

Theme Song: “Cleopatra” - Nova Twins

Diamond is the second born in the third litter of Aurora and Shadow. She has a sweet disposition and is very polite, even to her opponents. However, she can be a smart ass at times and is quick to make jokes. She is highly dedicated to physical training but outside of the gym she’s very easy-going. Diamond was born with Oculocutaneous albinism. Due to her albinism and nystagmus, she is sensitive to light and has very poor eyesight. As a baby and toddler, Diamond mostly clung to Aurora whenever outdoors as she could bend the light around Diamond and protect her from UV rays. As Diamond got older and grew more independent, Tails’ Workshop crafted a special brooch that acts as a light shield when activated. Diamond never leaves home without it.

Diamond is NOT capable of using Chaos Emeralds and instead has to rely on her natural abilities. She has incredible strength and is physically the strongest of all her relatives. 

As a child, she and her brother Cinder got into a fight where he accidentally unleashed a Stellar Tantrum and severely burned her. Luckily Boon was able to use his healing powers to reverse it. She has completely forgiven Cinder and has never held it against him, but he continues to be distant with her to this day.

She enjoys training in the Shadora Home Gym to better perfect her fighting skills and she is almost always found sporting earbuds so she can listen to her favorite punk rock and metal bands.

-

Boon

Birthday: 2/18 (8th Born)

Age: 14

Role: Support

Powers: Healing, Mood-Boosting

Weaknesses: People-pleasing

Dream Voice Actor: Ben Schwartz [x] ← Please watch this whole interview, it will leave you grinning ear-to-ear the whole way through

Theme Song: “Smile” - Dami Im

Boon is the third born in the third litter of Aurora and Shadow. Boon is the embodiment of a ray of sunshine and has 10000% charisma. He genuinely loves everyone he meets and enjoys putting smiles on people’s faces. Boon is very silly and has a very childish sense of humor. He also has a lot of energy and has a habit of rambling without realizing it.

Boon is NOT capable of using Chaos Emeralds and instead has to rely on his natural abilities. He has incredible healing abilities and can heal the wounded, but it takes a lot of energy from him so can only do so much at a time. He cannot revive the dead. Boon also has a “mood-boosting” ability, where he can positively affect the emotions of others. This can only be done by making direct contact with someone and the effect only lasts temporarily. Boon’s powers positively affected Aurora’s pregnancy, making her third litter the easiest and stress free of all her pregnancies (Thank you, Boon!)

Boon wears special rocket boots so he can quickly fly to anyone in battle who needs assistance. His boots have a button on the heel to activate them, and he likes to click his heels together to turn them on. Though he never complains about his duties, Aurora often worries about Boon’s need to please others and reminds him that he can’t help others if he doesn’t help himself. Aurora and Boon are the most alike of all her children as both are prone to singing outbursts, goofy jokes and harmless pranks to make people laugh.

—

All Shadora kids are mortal and did not inherit Shadow’s immortality. However, they do heal faster than the average Mobian.

—

Want to get more of a feel for the Shadora kids? I've made a Spotify playlist dedicate to their theme songs, songs that make me think of them, or general music they would listen to. You can listen to it here, but be warned it contains explicit songs.

—

A NOTE ABOUT SHADOW’S “AGE”

Shadow is immortal so therefore he doesn’t age. However it’s been long debated in my Shadora stories whether or not he will give up his immortality to live a normal life with his family. I have him in these drawings as still being immortal, especially because I like the angst and challenges that comes with (ex: how are your rebellious teenagers supposed to respect you when they are seemingly “older” than you?) but I haven’t actually decided when he will decide to be mortal. 

BUT if you ever draw me fanart or write me fanfics and you want to have become mortal at an earlier point in his life I’m totally cool with that! I’m flexible.

[awkward-walking-potato]

I love your work so much!! Can I request a Gambit x reader where reader has a hidden injury after a mission? Any mutant ability is fine!

Beneath the Surface

The mission had been intense, but you’d done your part, fought hard alongside the rest of the X-Men, and came out victorious. Or so you thought.

Back at the mansion, everyone seemed to be unwinding after the battle. You smiled and joked along with the others, pushing through the nagging pain you’d felt during the fight. You’d taken a hit—a sharp blast of energy that had grazed your side—but you hadn’t thought much of it. The adrenaline masked the worst of it, and the last thing you wanted was to slow the team down.

Now, as you sat in the living room with the others, chatting and laughing, the pain was starting to creep back in, sharper, deeper. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, trying to hide the wince that crossed your face. No one seemed to notice. Good.

But, of course, he noticed.

Remy LeBeau had been watching you ever since you returned from the mission. He leaned casually against the doorway, arms crossed, eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion. You could feel his gaze on you, but you didn’t look up. You knew if you met those sharp red eyes, he’d see right through you.

“Y’okay there, cher?” Remy’s smooth voice broke through the conversation, cutting off whatever lighthearted joke had been thrown around the room.

You forced a smile and nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little tired.”

Remy’s eyes didn’t leave you, and you could feel the weight of his concern. His gaze lingered for a moment before he pushed off the doorway and walked toward you. “Tired, huh? Don’t look like that t’me.”

You shifted in your seat again, the pain in your side now unbearable, but you weren’t about to show it. “I’m fine, really.”

“Hmm…” Remy didn’t look convinced. He leaned down, his voice dropping so only you could hear. “How ‘bout we take a little walk, non?”

You glanced up at him, seeing the knowing look in his eyes. You could feel the eyes of the others on you too, but you didn’t want to make a scene. So, reluctantly, you nodded and stood up, biting down a groan as a sharp pain shot through your side. Remy’s hand was instantly on your back, guiding you gently out of the room and into the hallway.

Once you were out of earshot of the others, he stopped, turning to face you. His expression had shifted from playful to serious, concern etched into his features.

“Alright, chérie. What’s goin’ on?” His voice was soft, but his eyes were searching, and you knew you couldn’t hide it any longer.

You sighed, leaning against the wall and finally pressing a hand to your side. “It’s nothing… just a small injury from the mission.”

Remy frowned, his eyes narrowing. “Small, huh? Lemme see.”

You hesitated, but the pain was too much to keep pretending. Slowly, you lifted the edge of your shirt, revealing the deep gash along your side, still bleeding and clearly more than “just a scratch.”

Remy’s jaw clenched, and his eyes darkened as he took in the sight. “Mon dieu, *why* didn’t y’say somethin’?”

“I didn’t want to worry anyone,” you muttered, wincing as you pulled your shirt back down.

“Didn’t want t’worry—” Remy cut himself off, taking a deep breath as he tried to calm down. “Y’could’ve bled out, chérie. This ain’t nothin’.”

“I’m fine, Remy,” you insisted, though your voice lacked conviction now that you could see the look of frustration and concern on his face.

He shook his head, stepping closer. “Non. Y’ain’t fine, and y’ain’t foolin’ me. C’mon, we’re goin’ t’fix this up.” Without waiting for you to protest, he gently wrapped an arm around your waist, careful not to aggravate your injury, and began leading you toward the medbay.

As you walked, you could feel the tension in his grip, the way his fingers pressed into your skin, just enough to remind you that he was there, that he wasn’t going to let anything else happen to you. It was comforting, despite the pain.

“Y’know y’ain’t gotta be strong all the time,” Remy said quietly, his voice softer now. “We all got each other’s backs, *including* y’own.”

You sighed, feeling a bit of the guilt settle in. “I didn’t want to slow anyone down…”

“Chérie, y’never slow anyone down,” he murmured, shaking his head. “But y’can’t go hidin’ stuff like this. I ain’t losin’ you ‘cause y’too stubborn t’ask for help.”

You looked up at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Remy’s expression softened, and he gave you a small smile. “S’alright. Long as y’let me patch y’up, I’ll forgive y’.”

He kept his arm around you until you reached the medbay, where he carefully helped you sit down on the exam table. Grabbing the first aid kit, Remy took his time cleaning and bandaging the wound, his touch surprisingly gentle despite his rough exterior. The entire time, he muttered under his breath about how reckless you were, though there was no real anger behind his words—just worry.

When he was done, he leaned back, looking you over with a satisfied nod. “There. Now y’can stop pretendin’ y’ain’t hurt.”

You smiled at him, feeling a warmth in your chest that had nothing to do with the injury. “Thanks, Remy.”

He flashed you that signature grin, but there was something softer in his gaze as he leaned down, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Ain’t no need t’thank me, chère. Just don’t go scarin’ me like that again, y’hear?”

You chuckled, wincing slightly but feeling a lot lighter than before. “I’ll try not to.”

He smirked, his eyes glinting with affection. “Good. ‘Cause next time, I’m carryin’ y’outta there whether y’like it or not.”

You laughed softly, and for the first time all day, you felt at ease. Remy had that effect on you—always knowing how to make you feel safe, even when you didn’t want to admit you needed it.

[jolenes-doppelganger]

Desert Storm

Reverend Mother Jessica x Fem! Fremen Reader

NSFW 18+- MINORS WHO INTERACT CAN AND WILL BE BLOCKED.

Request: “Soooo I got this idea stuck in my mind. RM Jessica falls for the woman that her son, Paul, is also in love with. Basically, reader is like Chani, but not really 😅 So, RM Jessica will do everything in her power to steal her away from her own son (successfully coz she got me on a chokehold fr wink*). Yandere vibes or something close to that. I'll let you decide if you'll add some spice and everything nice.” from @buttercandy16

Warnings: Ritualistic groping, sweat and tear ingestion, erotic lactation and breastfeeding, Jessica and Alia telepathically beefing, Jessica is her own warning

A/N: Don't look me in the eyes, believe me, I know how the warnings sound. May my Catholic mother's prayers cleanse these sinful hands that hath created this abomination. (Sexy abomination, *wink wink*).

Word Count: 4.4k of filth

The water of life had opened her mind in unimaginable ways. What once had been a struggle to do, power that had been a struggle to wield, became light. Jessica could see things and feel things that felt almost wrong to be able to digest. Waking up in the midst of the Fremen Sayyadina as they were panting and sighing in ecstasy felt strange. They’d drank of the sweat on her forehead, and the potent spice had acted as a powerful stimulant, and in some cases an aphrodisiac. Jessica watched as a pair of the Sayyadina grasped another, the two of them passionately kissing one another. It was odd to see such open intimacy between two people, between two women.

“Reverend Mother, they wish to make (Reader) a Sayyadina with you.” a Fremen priestess murmured, drinking from her skin as a trickle of sweat came down her forehead.

“Bring… Her in.” Jessica whispered.

The dead Reverend Mother was bound, carried away as the remaining lucid Sayyadina did their part to prepare her. The soon to be Sayyadina, (Reader), was brought forward. Jessica stared up at her with newly blue-stained eyes. 

“You must drink of the sweat on her face.” the sayyadina instructed the girl.

Jessica watched as you kneeled in front of her, gently searching for a bit of sweat to ingest. Most of it had been taken already, only a patch on her upper lip remained accessible. You leaned forward, pressing your lips to the flesh just below her lip, gently licking away the sweat there. Jessica reached forward, hands grasping desperately at you.

“I see.” Jessica whispered, grabbing your face. “Oh, I see what he sees.”

Jessica promptly closed her eyes, dropping into a sleep of pure exhaustion. As she slept, as she dreamed, she dreamed of you. With one little touch, she’d been granted powerful insight into your being, your composition and your bearing. You were Fremen, desert strong. Capable of withstanding more than some of the most acclimated soldiers. And Jessica liked that.

“Stay with her. We will tell the man child.”

You were left to watch over the new Reverend Mother, the slow potency of the spice saturated sweat causing a slow smoldering heat in you. Several Sayyadina around you were in the middle of hunting down their husbands and partners, overcome by the effect of it all. You sat still, observing the slow breaths of the new religious leader in your group. 

<>

“Mother, she’s Paul’s!” Alia spoke to Jessica. 

It had been several weeks since Jessica had taken the water of life, several weeks since Alia had gained consciousness and begun speaking to her in utero. What had first been a new blessing had become another aggravation. Alia was sweet. Dedicated, loving and loyal to a fault. Every bit her father’s child. But Jessica shared a connection with her that allowed the child access to her foremost thoughts, desires and ideas.

“If you don’t hush.” Jessica whispered back.

“What did you say?” you asked, frowning.

“My child speaks.” Jessica replied, then adding, “Of nonsense.”

“Mom!!!” Alia cried.

You saw Jessica’s face contort into a steely expression as she appeared to silently reprimand the conscious fetus inside of her. It was strange, watching her interact with her daughter. Moreso, it was strange watching the other Sayyadina react to it all. You were with Paul mostly, attacking Harkonnen spice mining crews and machines, but recently Jessica had been requesting your presence on a frequent basis, requiring you more and more often. 

“She is… Fully conscious?” you asked, eyeing the soft bump warily.

“Mmm. Yes.” Jessica replied, eyeing you with indiscernible interest. “She speaks like an adult, I believe she has the intellect of an adult as well. However, she is inexperienced in the ways of the world and knows it only through ancestral memory. She must learn to listen to her mother.” Jessica finished, a deadly warning in her expression meant for an individual without eyes to see it with.

Jessica extended her hand.

“Feel.” 

You walked forward, a bit nervous. She was only ten weeks or so along, there was hardly a bump there. You placed your hand in hers, and she smiled, bringing it to rest quite low.*

“The baby will sit just above my pubic bone, you won’t feel movement, but you can feel the soft bump.” Jessica whispered, eyeing you in that strange way she was quite fond of.

“Oh. Thank you, Reverend Mother.” 

Jessica smiled again, gently toying with your blue headband.

“You’ve begun to wear this quite often. What does it mean?”

The question caused you to blush. The piece of fabric was quite irrelevant, but the color was significant for many things.

“Oh… Well. We Fremen wear blue when we’re in love.”

Jessica’s eyes grew sharp and her hand stilled.

“With who?” 

“Well, your son.” you admitted.

Jessica was quite silent for a period that was out of character for her. By the way she stared straight ahead, it was clear that she wasn’t talking to Alia. Her lips would often quirk when conversing with the child, and her eyes would dart around in thought. But she was deadly silent at this moment. No quiver of her lips, no movement of her eyes, not even the slightest twitch.

“I see.” Jessica finally said. “You make a mistake, assuming he can love you.” she whispered, leaning in predatorily. “My daughter Alia reminds him often that he must reserve his hand for the most diplomatically beneficial match.” 

You clenched your teeth, drawing away from her.

“Paul can make his own choices without you two involving yourselves.” you replied, venom boiling through your words.

Your feet moved of their own accord, drawing towards the exit and out of Jessica’s room, forgetting the code of conduct. You were to formally greet and bid goodbye to the Reverend Mother at all times, to provide respect.

“Stop.”

You froze, breath caught in your throat at the barked order. She’d never used the Voice on you before, and you’d never seen it used.

“You will respect your Reverend Mothers.” Jessica spoke, in a two-toned voice. “All of us.”

Chills ran up and down your spine as you turned, viewing Jessica in fear.

“Come here.”

You were forced to walk back towards her. She grabbed your face with both hands, eyes wild as she observed you. 

“I will be leaving to spread the news of Paul in the south. You will come with me.”

You shook your head. You were Feydakin, and a fighter. Your primary role to the tribe was not being a priestess, but being a fighter. To leave Paul to fight without you would leave him vulnerable, without relief from his dreams. Sure, he had Silgar, but the man was a fool and only fueled the Bene Gesserit delusions. Who would be the voice of reason amidst all of this?

“I am Feydakin.”

“No, you are Sayyadina. You go where I tell you to go, when I tell you to go. And as your Reverend Mother, I have the say over the matter. I want a fighter by my side, can’t you see?” Jessica whispered, eyes clouding over in soft anxiety. 

Even though Jessica was Bene Gesserit, you’d always had a six sense for when someone was playing you. This was Jessica playing.

“You defeated Stilgar.” you retorted. “You are fighter enough.

“But I am pregnant.” Jessica replied. “And that was weeks ago. I will only continue to get bigger, to become more immobile. I will need a trusted protector.” 

You eyed her with extreme skepticism, taking a moment to let her words hang. Most liars filled silence by instinct, word vomit flying out of their mouths under pressure. But Jessica knew that trick. And although her real reasons for having you close to her weren’t reasons previously given, her being pregnant was a viable excuse she could use if needed.

“It’s because you don’t want me to date Paul, isn’t it? My common Fremen blood isn’t good enough for him?” 

Jessica laughed. It sounded unkind.

“No. Paul would be lucky to have someone as headstrong and wise as you for a partner, especially someone who is both those things and young, fertile. But his future lies elsewhere. And I do care for you. I would hate to see you hurt.”

She stepped forward, placing both her hands on your shoulders. She was back on her game. You had a sense that she was telling the truth, but only partly.

“Paul will join us in the south when he is ready. Distance will fizzle out the bond or… Make it stronger.” her face twitched. “But I believe it will be solidly the former.”

It was a struggle to stay in that room. You wanted to run out of her room to find the nearest corner to lie in. Not cry. You were Fremen. You didn’t cry over broken hearts and star-crossed love affairs. Not even the dead.

“I wish to be dismissed.” you managed, voice hoarse.

“No. You will stay with me, in my sight until we leave. It is better this way. Separate yourself where you can.”

“Reverend Mother, I wish to leave.” you repeated.

You needed a quiet corner, a place to breathe out and vent your pain without crying. This was humiliation, this was hurtful, this was heartbreak. And you needed to deliver the burden outward. Not in front of this woman with words shaped more like daggers, chipping away at year’s worth of armor to prevent you from crying. 

“No.” 

“You don’t understand, I need-”

“I am well aware of what you think you need.” Jessica interrupted, “And I assure you that it would be better to stay with me. I am what you need.”

It was a battle. Both internal and external. But you weren’t the only one boiling with voices too loud.

“Mother let her go, mother let her go!” Alia repeated over and over. “She will crack, she will waste water, you cannot let her waste water.”

“Silence!” Jessica spat, clutching at her womb. “You, sit.” she pointed.

Her usage of the voice was becoming more and more frequent, and it was directly tied to how in control she felt. It wasn’t something she used lightly, but as tensions and excitement rose, her composure would wear slightly, and she’d use it less sparingly.

“I do not care for your insolence, Alia.” Jessica began to berate her daughter aloud. “It is both rude and unwelcome. These are adult matters. I.. Hold your tongue. Stop interrupting me.. No, I don’t care if you have an adult mind, it is quite literally irrelevant to your circle of control.”

The argument once again turned internal, with Jessica’s lips twitching wordlessly. The debate was intense, and evidently not meant for your ears.

“There.” Jessica sighed, massaging her temples. “Forgive the interruption, she is just so opinionated.” 

Her eyes flashed with her last statement, a hidden anger rooted there. Then she moved, sitting beside you with a sigh. You were still fighting tears. She reached a hand out, moving to fold a bit of your hair back into the bonnet.

“Don’t touch me.” you snapped.

Jessica snorted, continuing to fuss over your hair.

“Your hair is covered in sand.”

“We’re on a desert planet.” you retorted.

Jessica didn’t respond. Instead, she got up and grabbed a comb, undoing your day’s old braid and gently combing out the dust and sand. She braided it in a style that was a bit foreign, beginning the braid from the crown of your head instead of the root. Once complete, she tied a scarf over your hairline. A soft beige. Decidedly neutral. The blue bonnet was confiscated.

“So you’re deciding what I can and can’t feel now?” you said.

Your words sounded more wounded than you intended them to.

“No. I’m simply tying a fresh scarf over you. This one needs to dry.”

You rolled your eyes.

“You can’t clean things in the desert.”

“Air does wonderful things. So does the sun.”

The urge to backtalk her more was deafening. The words posed on the tip of your tongue, like a serpent waiting to strike.

“Come. It is time to rest.”

“It is midday, Reverend Mother.”

“And I am tired, and I will not allow you to escape from my watch. You will join me.”

Her words were not laced with a command of the Voice, but she probably could add it if you didn’t comply. Her hands pulled your outer robes off. She kept herself in a thin, sleeveless dress, pulling you into her. Why Jessica needed you this close was up for debate. You assumed it was because she desired control. She assumed that too, but a third voice quietly thought otherwise.

“You smell like the sun.” Jessica murmured, pressing her nose into your hair.

“And you smell like sweat.”

Neither scent was necessarily bad in the Fremen culture. No one would tell Jessica that her sweat was bad, a body was just a body, and it smelled as such. And the slightly burned scent of hair was just that. The sun roasted strange scents and colors into a person after a while. You would smell as such.

“Are your periods still regular?” she asked, the question phrased not unkindly.

“Yes.” you murmured. 

“Good, that’s good.”

It was odd that she’d fret over your fertility while simultaneously resenting your relationship with Paul. But she was an odd character. It would be natural for her to have odd questions.

“Closer, lie closer to me.” Jessica whispered.

This rest, you would not.

<->

“Closer, I need you closer.” you whispered, pressing your face into Jessica’s neck.

She hummed, sleepily pulling you in, adjusting the pillow around her swollen belly to accommodate your increased closeness.

“You’re needy this morning.” Jessica sighed.

“Hmm?” you frowned.

“Not you, Alia.” Jessica sighed. “You’re always welcome for a cuddle.”

She let out a contented hum, pulling you as close as she could with her belly protruding. Her nose rested against your forehead, you could feel the moisture of her breath. The cuddle lasted a few more moments before a Sayyadina entered, informing Jessica from behind the fabric curtain of her yali that breakfast would be served in a quarter of an hour.

“Help me up.” Jessica murmured, rubbing her eyes.

You gently helped her to sit, pulling back the thin sheet. Her feet were swollen.

“Oh.” you winced.

“The joys of pregnancy, I know.” Jessica sarcastically grimaced.

Her sighs of pain turned to those of relief as you slowly worked your hands over her feet, massaging the swollen calves and tendons. The Reverend Mother propped herself up with a pillow, drawing slow circles over her belly as you worked on her feet. Her lips were pursed, she was in deep conversation with Alia. Jessica laughed a little at whatever the child said, and then nodded. You watched in fascination as her belly began to tremble slightly.

“Morning exercise.” Jessica explained. “Feel.”

She held your hands over her large belly as Alia kicked inside. You could feel the consistent, violent movement inside.

“You let her do that?” you frowned.

“It’s good for her, she needs to move her limbs, she needs the stimulation. But she does ask before kicking, or does so when she requires touch.”

The explanation was sufficient, and fascinating.Hers and Alia’s relationship was complicated, but amusing from the eyes of an outsider. You grabbed her robes and yours, helping her dress. She preferred bare feet most days, but today you coerced her into wearing soft moccasins to support her tender feet. Her hands lingered over yours as you adjusted her outer robes. 

“Thank you.” Jessica murmured, pressing a slow kiss to your temple. 

Following breakfast, Jessica drew you towards the Fremen temple where the masses were meditating. Today was a more quiet moment. Jessica was requiring of a specific ritual of group contact today, a spring rite. She brought you forward, resting her legs around your hips, yours fitted loosely around her bottom. Another Sayyadina came behind her, resting her hands on Jessica’s abdomen and pressing her pelvis into Jessica’s bottom. Spice was passed around, and members slowly began to sway together in a throng. But something was different today. More Fremen holy men and women began to touch more freely with one another. The Sayyadina with her pelvis pressed against your back began to sway with you. Desire. Her breath was hot on your neck, and her hands fitted loosely on your stomach. Jessica leaned into the arms of the Fremen priestess behind her. The breath of the group began getting heavier, labored. You could feel the energy surrounding you, the heaviness in the air. Touching slowly became more sensual, caresses of the torso more common. 

Jessica kept your hands in hers, swaying more frequently. The Sayyadina behind her began to draw her hands over her more sensually, as did the Sayyadina behind you. Fingers pulling at the fabric of your robes, hands drawing over your abdomen, over your thighs, and eventually slipping up your collarbone. The Sayyadina behind Jessica was more brave, fingers kneading the swollen curves of her breasts. It was a spring ritual, meant to further the fertility of the Fremen, meant to inspire the energy of life around them. It was what the people needed, it was what the people required. But your role in this was confusing. Why had Jessica placed you opposite her? Were you a symbol of the Fremen’s future? The Sayyadina behind you placed both her hands over your womb, and a distant chant for fertility began in the back of the room. It bloomed until everyone aside from Jessica and yourself were chanting. It was deafening and was confusing. The sight in front of you didn’t help. The Sayyadina behind Jessica had her hands pressed firmly against Jessica’s chest, groping and pulling at her swelling breasts. It should have disgusted you, this sight. But it didn’t. A distinctly different feeling came forth. It wasn’t until you were out of the ritual, back into Jessica’s chambers, that you pieced it together.

“You ran off fast.” Jessica rasped, soft footsteps filling the yali.

“I had a lot to think about.” 

You noticed her bare feet. Feet that you distinctly remembered placing in moccasins earlier. Another stab of jealousy snuck up through your throat.

“Where are your moccasins, Reverend Mother?”

“Nabiya has them. I didn’t want them anymore.” Jessica sighed.

“Nabiya?”

“The Sayyadina behind me during the ritual.”

You clenched your jaw, looking away. They were confusing, these feelings you were having as of late. Jessica noted your closed off nature, laughing a little.

“Oh come on, now.” Jessica sighed, wrapping her arms around you, her belly pressing into your back. “It was a ritual, I am a pregnant, fertile woman, and a Reverend Mother. You are too. This will bring the Fremen much joy, to see their holy women fertile and strong.”

“That’s not what this is about.”

Jessica rolled her eyes, clicking her tongue softly.

“That ritual isn’t done every year. I distinctly remember the last Reverend Mother doing it last year.”

“Yes, but I am a new Reverend Mother, and we are in a time of great anxiety and excitement. It is important to encourage the community to reproduce.” Jessica murmured. “It is important to remind you of the beauty of your youth…”

“Paul is my chosen-”

“Hush.” Jessica cut you off. “None of that.”

There was a burning in your eyes, and you looked up at the ceiling of the yali to avoid crying.

“Shh, shh.” Jessica murmured, stroking your head. “You have such a limited idea of what your life could be.”

“I’m useless here.” you protested. “I should be beside him, I should be fighting for my people instead of sitting in rooms while people touch me and praise my unproven fertility.”

Jessica hummed, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. Her hands hadn’t stilled their soothing caresses over your face and neck.

“Come, lie on the bed with me.”

You were weakened to her requests as it was a matter of compliance as well as comfort. Jessica’s arms encircled your body, and she hummed softly, drawing her fingers over your scalp.

“There will be another. One for you to love.”

“Reverend Mother, Paul said he loved me.”

Jessica smiled sadly, placing another kiss on your forehead. Her hands drew lower, resting on your neck.

“He has found another.”

All of the air escaped your lungs in a wheeze. Jessica’s forehead softened, and she brought you in for a deeper hug. 

“Don’t cry, I know, I know it hurts.” she murmured.

You got the sense that she did care. The months spent at her side as Alia had grown resulted in softer, more empathetic moments from the usually hardened holy leader. And besides Paul and Alia, you were one of the few people she cared for, probably the only Fremen she viewed as anything except a pawn.

“Who?” you whimpered. “Who does he love?”

Jessica shook her head. She pressed kiss after kiss over your face, fingers drawing up and down your back.

“Another from the North. I do not think it wise to tell you who.”

A dry sob came from your throat. You weren’t crying tears, but you were still vocalizing, much like the women of the tribe would do for the dead.

“I know it hurts.” she repeated. “So give it to me.”

Her hands held your face, and as the first tear slipped down your cheeks, her lips were there to catch it, drinking in the moisture. You only shed a few tears, it was all you dared spare, but what you didn’t expect was for her to give it back. Her lips brushed against yours, delivering a soft bead of saliva onto your tongue. She did this so tenderly, fingers stroking over your cheeks softly.

“You have such a limited idea of what your life could be.” Jessica whispered, repeating her earlier words with a hint of sensuality, with a hint of more care.

She leaned in again, her nose brushing against yours. You looked into her spice stained eyes, tentatively drawing a thumb over the tattoos on her cheeks. She smiled softly, and leaned in all the way, lips slowly dancing over yours. It was the reprieve for the ache in your heart. You were heartbroken over Paul, but over the months spent with Jessica, you’d slowly come to care for her too, and the infant child inside of her. You noted the unusual stillness of Alia, the dormant nature of the child. A hand on Jessica’s abdomen confirmed her sleepy state. If the child had been awake, there would have been a soft pressure on the other side as she touched back. Jessica pulled away, stroking your cheek. Her eyes were clouded over in a glow of satisfaction, and the telltale signs of her scheming lay in the intensity of her gaze.

“Do me a favor.” Jessica murmured. “My milk is coming in… Only a little right now, but it is better that it be extracted and taken into a body immediately.”

“I’ll get the pump and the straw so you can drink what it collects.” you assumed.

Jessica laughed softly, pulling you back into her arms before you could leave.

“No, no dear. If I was going to pump it, I would’ve done so this morning. I wish to share it.”

You balked at this, and Jessica laughed even more, her hands encircling your hot cheeks. 

“Sweetheart, please. It is a gift, and cannot be given to anyone else.”

Jessica gently parted her robes, exposing a swollen breast. Your first instinct was to turn away, but Jessica was quicker, firmly cupping your face, forcing you to meet her eyes.

“No, no. Do not pull away. Accept the gift.”

Jessica’s phrasing of the request was despicably deliberate. The gift of water was a holy, sacred act. A symbol of someone’s devotion to another. Usually it was done via spit, but if it came from the body, sharing it was a devotional act. To deny it was like denying the person, a sign of great disrespect. It was the tender touch of her thumbs over your cheeks that convinced you. A soft kiss was all the reassurance Jessica gave before she pushed you down.

“A soft latch. That’s all that’s required.” Jessica directed.

You nodded, leaning in and wrapping your lips around the stiff, brown nipple. It was warm, growing stiffer immediately between your lips. With a soft, experimental suck, a bead of milk landed on your tongue. Jessica let out a relieved moan, her hands tightening in your hair. Alia stirred slightly, but settled. She was unaware of this exchange.

“Again.” Jessica pleaded.

You’d never heard her use this tone of voice before. It was breathy, needy even. It inspired stirrings in you, made you more eager to please. You moved your lips slowly, imitating the suckling of babies you’d witnessed in the past. It required a bit of tongue and throat movement, but you managed to produce the correct combination, milk landing in steady streams on your tongue. Jessica let out pleasured hums of relief, her hands stroking over your head. It was a small amount of milk, and she went dry quickly.

“Other side now, beloved.” Jessica murmured. “And save a mouthful for me this time.”

The suggestion was odd, and a bit exciting. You were less unsure of yourself this time around, and you were careful to keep a decent amount of milk in your mouth at all times to fulfill her next request. It made the process a bit slower, which Jessica did appreciate. Her fingers could dance over your cheeks as they rhythmically hollowed. She could commit the sight of your lips on her breast to her private memory. You pulled away as she went dry, holding what milk remained in your mouth. A soft tap on your chin directed you upward, and Jessica opened her mouth, awaiting what you had collected. You released the liquid back to her in a steady stream, and she swallowed greedily, but she didn’t stop there. Her lips and tongue collected what was left, her tongue searching every crevice of your mouth for the sweet milk that remained. Her breasts dried in the humid air, and she leisurely swirled her tongue over yours, enjoying the remaining traces of her milk on your tongue. 

“Lovely.” Jessica murmured. “Now I’m nice and empty, and you’re full of my nutrients.”

There was a mildly deranged look in her eyes, and you wondered just how much her ego had swelled now that you’d nursed from her, now that you’d shared her own kiss. Her hands drew you back in, pressing your face to her neck, fingers tracing delicately through your scalp. The smell of her breast milk lingered, a sweetness that complimented her natural odor.

“Oh… The things we will be…”

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Eros: Chapter Seven

Eros: Married to Dream of the Endless, you find yourself sent back in time to Ancient Greece where you, unfortunately, meet Oneiros. Fresh off a divorce and drowning the sorrows of his son’s death by indulging in the Panathenaia, you find yourself trapped beneath the lustful gaze of your future husband. In your defense, he seduced you first…

Warnings: Nothing Explicit, Nudity, Language.

To Note: Morpheus x Wife!Reader, Time Travel, Oneiros is used for AncientGreek!Morpheus.

Word Count: ~2.1k

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The grand throne room of the Dreaming is shrouded in an atmosphere of unease. The usually calm and composed Morpheus sits on his intricately carved throne, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the marble in aggravation. His queen has vanished without a trace, and an uncharacteristic worry clouds his thoughts.

Lucienne, the loyal librarian, stands nearby, her face reflecting the same concern, and Matthew perches on the armrest of Morpheus’s throne, his dark eyes flickering with anxiety.

“My lord, it has been two days,” Lucienne begins softly, her voice steady despite the tension in the room. “We have searched every corner of the Dreaming. There is no sign of her.”

Morpheus’ usually serene blue eyes are stormy with frustration and fear. “She cannot simply have disappeared, Lucienne. We are bound together. There must be something we are missing.”

Matthew ruffles his feathers, shifting uneasily. “Boss, you don’t think it’s some kind of magic, do you? Someone messing with the Dreaming? Or worse, with her?”

Morpheus’ gaze hardens, and he looks down at Matthew, his eyes darkening with anger at the thought. “If she has been taken by magic, then the perpetrator will know the full extent of my wrath. But we must consider every possibility.”

Lucienne nods, stepping closer. “Perhaps we should review her last known whereabouts. Was there anything unusual in her behavior recently? Any disturbances in the Dreaming that could have indicated a threat?”

Morpheus’ mind races through the events of the past days. He has been preoccupied with the duties of the Dreaming, but nothing has seemed out of the ordinary. “She mentioned feeling restless,” he admits. “She often spoke of her desire to walk in the Waking World.”

Matthew tilts his head. “Actually, boss, there was something. Just before she disappeared, she went to check out the Ocean of Dreams. There was a storm, and she thought something was wrong. She dove in to investigate.”

Morpheus’s eyes widen, a mix of fear and anger flashing across his face. “Why was I not informed of this sooner, Matthew?”

The raven flinches slightly, his feathers ruffling. “I’m sorry, boss. She told me to go get Lucienne, and by the time I got back, she was already gone and never came back up. We didn’t find anything out of the ordinary at the ocean after she disappeared.”

Lucienne looks thoughtful. “The Ocean of Dreams is a powerful and ancient part of your realm, my lord. If she went into it and encountered something unexpected...”

Morpheus stands abruptly, his robe billowing around him like a storm cloud. “Then she may be trapped within its depths or worse. I must go there myself.”

Lucienne nods. “I will continue searching the archives for any records of disturbances in the Ocean of Dreams. There may be something we’ve overlooked.”

Morpheus turns to Matthew. “You will gather the ravens. I want them scouring the Dreaming and the Waking World for any sign of her. Leave no stone unturned.”

Matthew nods, taking off to carry out his task. Lucienne bows and quickly departs for the library, her mind already racing through the possible texts she will need to consult. Left alone in the vast throne room, Morpheus lets out a slow breath. His connection with his queen, so strong and vibrant, is eerily silent. He cannot sense her anywhere, and that absence gnaws at him.

As he strides out of the throne room, determination etched into his features, he reaches out with his senses, feeling the vast expanse of the Dreaming. He will dive into the Ocean of Dreams himself if necessary. The thought of her being trapped, alone, fills him with a fear he rarely acknowledges.

With every step, he resolves to uncover the mystery of her disappearance, to bring her back to his side where she belongs. He will not rest until his queen is safe once more. Morpheus arrives at the shores of the Ocean of Dreams, the usually tranquil waters now churning with an undercurrent of unease. He stands at the edge, his eyes scanning the horizon, feeling the pull of the ocean's ancient magic. He will find her, no matter the cost.

Taking a deep breath, he wades into the water, letting its cold embrace wash over him. As he dives deeper, the currents grow stronger and more aggressive, mirroring the turmoil in his heart. He reaches out with his mind, seeking any trace of her presence, any clue that could lead him to her.

The depths of the Ocean of Dreams are vast and mysterious, but Morpheus is relentless. He will search every corner, face every danger, to bring his queen back. His love for her is deeper and more powerful than any magic, and he will not rest until she is safely in his arms once more.

Morpheus paces the floor of your shared chambers, the ethereal light casting long shadows across the room. His normally composed demeanor is shattered by the torment of not knowing where you are. He has scoured the Dreaming, reached into every nook and cranny of his realm, and found nothing. Even the Ocean of Dreams has turned up nothing! His thoughts race as he considers who could have caused your disappearance. His anger simmers beneath the surface, ready to boil over at any moment.

His mind is a whirlwind of possibilities, but none seem plausible. You are powerful, and the protections around the Dreaming are impenetrable. It would take formidable magic to whisk you away without a trace. He stops his pacing and runs a hand through his dark hair, his thoughts briefly interrupted by a flicker of a memory—your wedding, the joy in your eyes, the warmth of your touch. He had asked you whatever you wished for, he would give you… you had told him that all you wished for, was him, and he had only fallen deeper in love with you.

He is about to turn to make another round of the room when a shimmering light appears, and you are suddenly standing in your shared bedchambers. You are naked as the day you were born with wide round eyes and shock plastered across your features. Morpheus should have been staring at the state you are in—love marks covering your body and evidence of lovemaking thoroughly coating your thighs—but memories flood his mind like a rampant tidal wave.

You wake with your face buried in a pillow smelling of marjoram and flowers. Feeling like your entire body is one big ache, you struggle to roll over onto your back and blow the hair out of your face. You blink a few times, making sure that you do, in fact, still have legs, before trying to roll to the edge of the bed. Son of a—

“This is ridiculous,” you mutter to yourself, feeling embarrassed that you are this sore from copious sex alone. Oneiros certainly has a healthy appetite for the indulgences of the flesh. You wouldn’t complain though, you haven’t seen that catastrophic glower of sadness and devastation upon his face in days. Job well done, you suppose. But you really need a bath... you glance down at your thighs and cringe. Your combined releases are smeared all over your discolored thighs, and when you stand up, you all but moan out loud when you feel it dripping from you.

“Bath, definitely need a bath,” you grimace, nearly waddling forward on what feels like newborn legs. Mustering up the strength, you take careful steps, teetering around on sore muscles. But as you make it to the center of the room, a flash of electricity runs along your skin, and your vision goes black. Floundering for a few seconds, you force yourself to remain calm until your vision returns moments later… but you are certainly not in the same place as you were a second ago.

Blinking away black dots, your eyes go round the moment you spot Morpheus standing not far from you, frozen where he stands. He looks disheveled and ill, paler than you have ever seen him. A few seconds go by and he still hasn’t moved.

“Morpheus?” you question in a small voice, your voice cracking a little from soreness and the shock of the sudden change in surroundings. Morpheus remains still, his eyes wide with a mixture of disbelief and relief. He had thought he would never see you again, feared the worst had befallen you. The sight of you standing before him, albeit disheveled and confused, is like a caress to his tortured soul.

How many weeks has he spent looking for you after you disappeared from his bed into thin air? Endless. It was impossible to understand your sudden disappearance from Athens. He had wallowed in misery and despair, the absence of your presence weighing heavily on his heart until he ultimately moved on.

“αστέρι μου,” his voice is raw with emotion, his usual composure shattered in the wake of your sudden return. Your brain connects what is going on in his head. He is remembering you. His gaze drops to your body, and you shift as a flush crawls up your neck.

“In my defense, you seduced me first,” you softly mutter, not seeing the raging jealousy flashing through silver-blue eyes. You think, perhaps, that he would be angry at you for having sex with his past self, and he would certainly have every right to be so… but that is not what is running through his mind. All Morpheus can think about is how Oneiros has indulged in your body and repeatedly filled you with his seed. Jealousy rears its ugly head all the while the Endless can’t help but feel an intense lust for you. He wants to reclaim you from Oneiros. Right. Now.

Your heart pounds in your chest as Morpheus takes a step closer to you, his eyes darkening with desire and possessiveness. Then, in an instant, he is on you. His lips crash against yours in aggressive possession as a hand buries itself into your mussed hair. You can feel the intensity of his need in the way he kisses you, a mix of hunger and desperation that sends shivers down your spine.

You instinctively grab onto his shoulders, not quite expecting this aggressive onslaught but also not wanting to fight it. His kiss is raw, unfettered, a testament to the depth of his feelings. As your minds meld once more, you can feel the mixture of relief, desire, and possessiveness radiating from him in waves.

His hands move from your hair to your waist, pulling you closer. The hard lines of his muscular body press against you, reminding you of the intense passion the two of you have shared. The desperation in his kiss becomes more apparent and your own desire stirs within you. The realization dawns on you that he is trying to reclaim you from Oneiros. The clothes have to go.

“Clothes,” you barely manage to eke out between tongue-tying kisses that leave you feeling drunk. His lips never leave yours as Morpheus dissolves his clothing from his body and pulls you against his naked flesh. As he envelops your body in his strong embrace, your skin tingles with the sensation of his warm, bare skin against yours. His touch is electric, a mixture of tenderness and urgency that brings forth a whirlwind of emotions.

His hands roam over your curves, tracing every line, every contour, sending a storm of desire coursing through your veins. Each touch, each kiss, is a claim, a valid reaffirmation that you belong to him. The memory of Oneiros fades into oblivion as Morpheus' deep, silken voice whispers sweet nothings into your ear.

"You are mine, and only mine," he growls, his eyes burning with possession and an intense desire to make you his own once again. It is a claim that reverberates through your very soul, leaving you breathless and completely under his control.

“For as long as you shall want me,” you return, raising your hands to cup his face. His eyes flare with intensity, fueled by the raw desire that courses through his body. He knows that his claim to you is unmistakable, yet he can't help but feel the reassurance in your words. “But I do have to ask…”

Morpheus’s eyes glow as he waits for you to air your question.

“Are you jealous?” You watch as his expression twists with a mixture of surprise, annoyance, and, yes, jealousy. It is an emotion he has kept well-hidden, but seeing it now, you can't help but feel a sense of accomplishment.

"You think I would be jealous?" he scoffs, a hint of amusement in his tone. “Beloved, if you are still able to use your legs come the morrow, I am not jealous.”

Well, shit.

Date Published: 6/12/24

Last Edit: 6/11/24

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[ennn]

Rio not being the “black heart” in the note is OK

You may be upset or disappointed given Schaeffer’s answer in the most recent The Wrap interview on Ep 6 that Billy is the intended "black heart" of Lilia's note, not Rio.

It's okay. It's cool. This isn't a betrayal. I understand this can be aggravating if it ruins your headcanons, but let's keep in mind:

The names of the note are about the coven Agatha can/should gather to walk the Road according to Lilia's premonition, presumably people with a strong enough desire or desperation to walk the Road. If the Road's as dangerous as it's said to be, obviously not every witch will want to! Also we have absolutely have no idea how Lilia's premonitions work at the moment... are they from her? Influenced by her? From Fate? I mean, Future!Lilia is not gonna want a coven with Rio in it for obvious reasons...

Schaeffer also mentions in the interview that "witchcraft is not mathematical. Witchcraft is so much about intention. It is so elusive." Which kinda explains why they were able to bring poor Sharon Davis onto the Road with them? You can still do things even without a perfect coven.

When told by Agatha in ep 4 that she's "too early", Rio replied "well it wasn't up to me" implying that she either didn't know Agatha was on the Road or she would have waited for Agatha to be done (one way or another) before she showed up again. That said, Rio's pretty happy to be there when they unintentionally summon her.

Rio really hasn't been participating in the Road trials! She's content to be along for the ride and make heart eyes at the ex she absolutely isn't over and wait for some bodies to claim. Rio's having much fun as possible now she's there – probably more fun than anyone else on the Road right now – but she is as Agatha describes in Ep 4, "a tourist".

Nothing about this negates what Rio said about her black heart and her feelings towards Agatha. That was after all the connection the show wanted viewers to originally make. They wanted to remind viewers of this relationship and its effect on Agatha even when Rio wasn't around.

Having Death in your coven is kinda OP

If it helps I'm willing to bet we'll get more Rio next episode and definitely in the last two eps of the season, with things really kicking into high dramatic gear.