#will i ever actually write the fanfics i dream up? who knows

[captainofthestrangestship]

Look I love emo McCoy who blows up his life because of the things that happen in STID or in Beyond as much as the next guy but what about an aos!McCoy who doesn’t do that and actually likes being on the Enterprise?

So the events of Beyond happen slightly differently so that both Jim and Spock both decide to leave the Enterprise, ie for this they have to be way more emotionally closed off than they actually are at the end of the movie. Meaning after they go through the hours of debriefing necessary after Beyond, Jim tells Spock that he’s accepted the role of vice admiral on Yorktown, saying he’ll recommend Spock for the Captaincy. Spock stands there for a second, like this is super awkward, I have decided that my presence is more requited on New Vulcan and I am continuing Ambassador Spock’s work.

They would stand there in an uncomfortable silence neither willing to talk through this and if its even a good idea or not and then they both nod at each other, “this was a great discussion, good luck on New Vulcan” “I wish your endeavour as Vice Admiral is fulfilling” and get the hell out of there.

At some point later Jim finally tells McCoy, he’s been putting it off since he knows Bones will try and talk him out of it and he really can’t handle that.

Bones of course tells him he’s being an idiot and what the hell do you think you’re going to do behind a desk. Jim just tells him its what he wants and that he’s doing what best for him. Bones doesn’t push too hard and just tells him some day he’s going to wake up and hate his life so much that he would be willling to steal a spaceship just to be captain again.

But then Bones sorta throws him for a loop, and tells Jim he’s going to miss him and the Enterprise won’t be the same without him. Not that he would ever admit it but Jim was sure that Bones would also leave the Enterprise if he left and maybe even take a position on the Yorktown, Cos like Bones hates space and Bones has sorta gone above and beyond for Jim. Jim really doesn’t know what to do about this. Since he’s emotionally closed off he does’t ask Bones to leave the Enterprise with him, so he just lets that idea go.

So McCoy stays as CMO because he’s already done the whole running away when things get tough thing and he actually loves being in space and exploring the great unknown, he just likes to complain. Also he can’t exactly hypo Jim and drag him back onto the Enterprise to be captain

Meaning Sulu becomes captain, Uhura is still chief communications officer, Chekov is the navigator,  Scotty obviously stays as CE, Carol comes back as science officer and some rando is the pilot. (dont know who the first officer would be either Uhura or Chekov or maybe a new person who’s older)

Over the next five years McCoy stays in touch with both Jim and Spock, basically trying to get both of them to realise they belong on the Enterprise but neither budge. 

The crew have fun wacky hijinks in space, while Jim and Spock both grow to hate the work they’re actually doing. Maybe Jim gets promoted to admiral which he some how hates even more. Spock realises he still is sorta out of place among Vulcans and has not actually married a good Vulcan girl and had children like he thought he was going to (how he survives pon farr is anyones guess) McCoy can see it on their faces when they talk but he’s stuck in the middle of deep space so theres nothing he can really do. (he also knows they have to come to this realisation themselves) However McCoy is having a great time, loving space, loving his job and doing the badass doctor thing. (I do think he tells them this hoping it will change their minds or maybe make them jealous or to be like what the hell guys I’m enjoying life, you guys should be happy too. This does not work)

Then finally the five year mission is over, Jim and Spock both go to Earth to see the triumphant return of the flagship. 

McCoy just looks at both of them for a few moments and asks if they’re ready to steal that spaceship yet (and to get their heads out of their asses)

[lonely--seeker]

I think I'm going insane. Lately my dreams have been so mundane, it wouldn't be weird if I wasn't just a person that has nightmares 80% of the time, so I now my dreams are so hard to distinguish from reality.

I wouldn't be able tell what was real from what not if it wasn't because last night I went to my doctor's appointment and I was handed new glasses by Harvey just to go back home and find out Laois was cooking something in my backyard.

[maplesyrupsainz]

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙confidence | OP81˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: oscar piastri x reader y/n (she/her)

genre: social media au, new relationship

warnings: very fluffy !!!

summary: in which your new boyfriend and your bffs support you in increasing your confidence <3

a/n: i've done a logan fic rly recently so i chose oscar !! wasnt 100% sure on how to execute this but hope i did an ok job :))

request!!!: hi! Could i please request a smau with oscar or logan about shy/insecure reader and a driver trying to boost their confidence. Thank you, youre amazing. Love ya 💓

-> this fanfic came from a request ^ tht i copy pasted above but i lost the request idk if i deleted it from my inbox by accident or just dreamed it up perhaps. but here it is anyway srry to whoever req it but i did write it at least hope this finds u well 🤓

fc: matilda djerf

my masterlist

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, yourbff, and 47,812 others

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liked by logansargeant, yourusername, and 32,201 others

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liked by yourusername, yourbff, and 88,972 others

oscarpiastri i have the most beautiful girlfriend in the world

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landonorris posted a story

liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername, and 41,928 others

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user48 fourple

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THE END 🧡

[yaeverse]

Dinner Date | j.ww

pairing: class president! wonwoo x playgirl!reader

summary: going on a date with your class president who actually have had a secret crush on you for a while

warnings: slight nsfw, fluff, a few wet kisses

a/n: helloo nyxies, i'm still new to writing so deepest apologies if there some grammatical errors found in my fanfic. anyways, enjoyyy

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You could say you were hell ass surprised when he asked you out to dinner after winning the school art competition. Your class president, Jeon Wonwoo, also known as the campus heartthrob had a secret crush on you for sometime now. The man was undeniably handsome, hot, smart and basically a walking wet dream that had every girl or boy drooling over him

Walking and pacing around your room, figuring out on what to wear, making sure to not look like you're whoring yourself on your first date with Wonwoo, your mind brings you back to the moment he asked you out.

(flashback)

"y/n, will you go on a date with me..?" he asks as he looks at you with a stoic face. Wonwoo actually had this all planned in his head but things didn't really go as well as he thought it would, "I'll pick you up later at seven.." he continues, leaving no space for rejection.

(end of flashback)

"Dammit, Jeon Wonwoo.. you got me nervous over a date.." you sigh, deciding on wearing a turtleneck croptop partnered with a skirt. Yeah, you've had your past relationships and flings, but oh damn, did Wonwoo got you this nervous.

Hearing your phone ring, you immediately sat up answering the call.

"Hey.." you said,

"I'm outside.." he says in a husky voice, sending shivers down your spine,

"Alright, I'm heading out.."

This was absolutely the very first moment of you being nervous of stepping out your apartment. I mean, we are talking of Jeon Wonwoo, who wouldn't be nervous.

Stepping out your door, your eyes meet Wonwoo's gaze as he stands awestruck at your beauty.

"You look.." he stutters, "beautiful, y/n.."

"oh hey, we're twinning!" you smile excitingly at the adorable coincident

He stares at you, his heart fluttering at the sight of your smile. You had quite a reputation around campus, 'Playgirl Y/N', but couldn't care less. He just saw you for who you are.

The drive was comfortably quiet. Exchanging a few glances and questions to lift the awkward tension.

"so, congrats on winning earlier.." he says, glancing in your direction,

"thanks" you smiled back, "i never thought i'd win, i messed up a few paints due to nervousness.."

"what are you talking about?" he lightly chuckles, turning the steering wheel as he talks with you, "yours was the best one there, so of course you'd win.."

You can't help but smile at his words. "thank you, wonwoo.."

After a few minutes drive, you two finally arrive.

"We're here" he says, stepping out of the driver's seat to open your door

You can't help but your eyes widen and mouth drop in agape at how beautiful, and to say expensive the place looks. He really went all out for a first date, and you think you don't deserve this kind of treatment.

"Let's go..?" he asks, guiding you by your waist, "don't be nervous, y/n, be yourself.."

"Y-you didn't really have to do all this..." you look up to meet his gaze

"Well, I wanted to"

Dinner was mostly filled with a few exchanged talks and warm conversations. Getting to know each other, and finding a few interesting facts that none of the two of you thought to be possibly real.

Spending time and getting to know him made you realize that he is everything you could ask for a guy. After having failed relationships, and jumping from one guy to another, you finally conclude that Jeon Wonwoo is YOUR TYPE OF MAN. You now can see why almost everyone in campus say the he's the perfect ideal boyfriend a girl can ever ask. He's a complete gentleman, smart, handsome, hot, a walking wet dream, like everything. You just know that after this date, you will never be the same. You could already feel the effects this guy has over you.

"Did you enjoy the dinner, y/n?" he asks,

"Of course, I did," you smile, as you took out your wallet "Oh- I can pay the dinner-"

"You're not paying dinner, princess," he chuckled, gently pushing your hand back to yourself, "I already payed anyways.."

"Y-you're too much, won.." you smile warmly at him,

"Nothing's too much, y/n," he smiles back, "You ready to go home..?"

You nod and as a gentleman he is, he escorts you outside, holding your waist. The warmth of his palm on your waist was enough to send butterflies bursting to your stomach, making your heartbeat crazy.

"So, uh, this is goodnight i guess.." he mumbles as he walks you to your door, "good night, y/n..."

"wait-" you pause, realizing what you just said

"yes..?" he immediately looked back, giving you all his attention

he walks closer to you, leaning in as he sees your eyes laid on his lips, making him chuckle.

"my eyes are up here, princess.." he smirked, "may i..?"

No words came out but you just nodded. He slowly leans in. Your heart beats in anticipation as you close your eyes, ready to feel his lips on yours.

But, oh damn, was he soft like feather.

You tensed up feeling his lips on yours. 'Get a grip, y/n, it's not like it's your first time kissing someone' you mentally scold yourself. You then feel his hand settle on your waist as the other settles behind your neck, pulling you closer to him.

You two pause for a moment to catch your breaths as he rested his forehead on yours. You smiled, and you know he's smiling as well. He then leans in again with more affection.

"Mmhh.." you hear him moan to the kiss as he swiftly licks your lower lip, begging to get in. With pleasure, you open your lips partly and he slide his tongue in immediately.

You two get lost in the moment, feeling waves of pleasure and adrenaline rush through every inch of your body at the sensation of his tongue dancing with yours. His hand grip your neck a bit tighter as he pulls you closer to give him more access inside your mouth as he makes out with you.

The kiss slowly calms down as you two pull back, gasping for air, foreheads resting against each other.

"We're going for a second date then..?" he asks with a light chuckle, his thumb caressing your waist,

"You're a good kisser, by the way.." you laugh, "And yes, a second date would be fucking great.."

He pecks your lips as he replies, "Next time, you'll receive more than a kiss, princess.."

Your face becomes a blushing mess as he smirked at your reaction

"W-Wonwoo...!" you whine playfully as you hit his chest,

"God, I'll make you scream my name next time.." he smirked, chuckling in a low tone,

"See you around, princess..." he greets you goodbye as he drives his car away

You just know that there'll be no more next guy after Wonwoo.

And you just know that in the next date, you'll end up being unable to walk

[pascaloverx]

HAUNTED

Summary: You awaken from a two-year coma to find that Detective Lois has been eagerly awaiting your recovery, believing you might have witnessed something crucial to catching a serial killer. What you didn’t expect is to learn that she suspects your doctor of being the murderer—and even more shockingly, it appears that you are married to him. Now, you must uncover your lost memories and find out who Charlie Mayhew truly is to you.

Author's Note: Yes, I'm writing another fanfic featuring Nicholas Alexander Chavez’s character from Grotesquerie. The characters belong to the universe created by Ryan Murphy in the series Grotesquerie (2024). This fanfic will include violence, strong language, and adult content. It will portray the character Charlie Mayhew as a doctor. I hope you enjoy the fanfic, but there's nothing certain about its future. If you like this fanfic, please interact, leave comments. This author will be grateful for any interaction.

ONE

© credits for the owners of the pictures used. they don't belong to me. credit is not mine for the pictures.

TWO

You were finally discharged from the hospital after nearly a week of being poked, prodded, and thoroughly examined. However, your husband seemed displeased with the last conversation you shared. He hadn’t returned to visit you, leaving an unsettling emptiness in your chest. Even in your dreams, the striking face of your husband was absent. The fictional priest, your recurring specter, no longer graced you with his haunting visits. Detective Lois came to see you twice. The first time, you welcomed her, but when she began disparaging your husband, you quickly lost interest in continuing the conversation. The second time, you thought it best to turn her away before Dr. Mayhew discovered she had been there.

Now you are packing your clothes to return home—clothes you do not recall buying or ever wearing before. A house that does not feel like a home, for you have no memory of it. Whether you like it or not, Dr. Mayhew is the only semblance of familiarity you have. Yet, he seems to have lost interest in you. He is probably ready to file for divorce and pursue his happily ever after with the detective with whom he may or may not have had an affair.

"Mrs. Mayhew, are you ready to go home?" a strange man asks as he stands in the doorway. He is wearing a suit, and from the formal way he speaks to you, you assume he is not a relative of yours.

"I'm sorry, but I have no idea who you are. Actually, I'm waiting for my husband." You say, holding your suitcase while sitting on the edge of the hospital bed. The man seems to be preparing to say something that will hurt you. "Mrs. Mayhew, I’m your husband's driver. He can’t pick you up; he had an urgent commitment." He says, adjusting his suit, almost as if he’s embarrassed by the news. He seems to feel pity for you. For some reason, the fact that your husband is avoiding you irritates you.

"In that case, let's go." You say, a bit downcast but holding onto your suitcase tightly, trying not to let your anger show. You know there will be a moment when you'll give your husband a lesson—he's the one who deserves to hear your complaints.

"Follow me, I'll take you to the car and we'll head to your house soon," the driver says, raising his arm for you to hold onto as you make your way to the hospital exit. You try to keep up the appearance of being fine, smiling as you say goodbye to the hospital staff while being accompanied by your husband’s driver, Ed. As he drives you home, he starts talking about his life. He tells you how you had recommended him for the job as a personal driver. You learn that you used to give him art lessons and suggested him to your husband. The information leaves you more confused. You have the impression that you were wealthy, given the fancy clothes you wear and the fact that you have a private driver, but it seems you were also teaching art. This leaves you wondering about the life you used to lead in your own home.

When you arrive at the house, it’s almost everything you imagined. It’s large, not a mansion, but it has two floors, a garden, and a pool. Ed helps you out of the car and guides you on where to place your luggage, leading you toward the entrance of the house.

"On the first floor, you’ll find the kitchen, living room, laundry, and a guest bedroom. There’s also a dining room, but it’s only used for special occasions. On the second floor, there’s the master suite and the boss’s office. If you’d like, I can take you there," Ed says politely, though you sense that you need to spend some time getting familiar with your home and you don't want to bother Ed with your demands.

"There’s no need to trouble yourself, Ed. You’re free to go, and thank you for taking the time to pick me up from the hospital," you say graciously.

"It was my pleasure to assist you. If you need anything, I'll be just outside," Ed says before leaving you alone. For a moment, you find yourself captivated, taking in the details of the first floor of your home. As you admire the kitchen, a sudden noise from the upper floor catches your attention.

You freeze, startled by the unexpected noise. You were certain you were alone in the house, but now it seems you might have company. The thought races through your mind—it could be a burglar or perhaps one of your husband's mistresses waiting for his return, especially since you're convinced he's not home. Uncertain of your next move, you consider calling for Ed, but that might alert whoever is upstairs. Resolute, you grab a knife from the kitchen, gripping it tightly as you ascend the stairs, steeling yourself to confront whoever dares to intrude, the sound of water running hinting at someone taking a bath above.

You step into the master suite, your eyes scanning the space. Scattered across the bed are some of your husband's clothes, as though he had been deciding what to wear. Framed photos of the two of you together adorn the room, alongside other items that affirm this as the bedroom of a married couple. However, investigating the nuances of your marital life is not why you climbed the unnecessarily numerous stairs. Silently, you make your way to the bathroom, drawn by the muffled sounds coming from within the shower, mingling with the steady cascade of water. Your heart pounds as you realize—there's definitely a man in there, taking a shower. You grip the knife tightly in your hands and gather your courage to open the shower curtain.

Your husband stands before you, utterly exposed, his body glistening with water and lightly lathered with soap, one hand still gripping his cock mid-motion. "What the hell, Y/N?" Doctor Mayhew exclaims, his voice laced with shock and alarm.

Frozen for a moment, you struggle to process the scene, your grip tightening around the knife in your hand. Heat rises to your face, and without thinking further, you turn on your heel abruptly, your embarrassment overwhelming. "I— I didn’t know it was you," you stammer, your voice shaky as you try to compose yourself, your back still turned to him.

"Did it ever occur to you to ask?" your husband snaps, his voice sharp with irritation. You're unsure if his anger stems from being caught in such a vulnerable state or from having his private moment interrupted.

"It didn’t cross my mind," you retort, doing your best to maintain your composure despite the vivid image of his naked form lingering in your thoughts. "Especially since I assumed a man too busy to fetch his own wife from the hospital wouldn’t be occupied... pleasuring himself in the shower." Your tone is steady, but there's a slight edge to your words, masking your own embarrassment.

"I thought you'd prefer to return with someone you didn't consider a cold-blooded, adulterous murderer," Doctor Mayhew says, his tone laced with dry humor as he continues his shower. "Had I known you cared about my presence, I would have been there. And as for giving myself pleasure, despite the belief that I've had a torrid affair with another woman, my fidelity to you is so absolute that my only mistress is my hand." He chuckles softly, the sound almost mocking, while you remain rooted in place, still stunned and unable to respond or even move.

"If you'd cared enough to visit me after our last meeting, you would have known that I did want you there to bring me home," you say, your voice tinged with hurt. The air grows heavy for a moment, the tension palpable, until the sound of the running water comes to an abrupt stop.

"I was there every day," Doctor Mayhew replies, his tone soft yet steady. "But only while you were asleep. I didn’t want to trouble you. Your doctors told me you were improving, and I thought my presence might upset you." He steps out of the shower, the sound of his movements drawing closer to you. You can feel his breath against your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. Before you can respond, his arms encircle yours, gently but firmly taking the knife from your grip. He places it on the bathroom counter, the action deliberate yet tender.

You turn, now standing face-to-face with your husband, Doctor Mayhew. A towel is loosely wrapped around his waist, droplets of water still trailing down his skin. "I wanted you there," you murmur, your voice barely audible, the words almost brushing against his lips. His face is dangerously close to yours, his presence overwhelming.

"I'm sorry, mi amor. I should have brought you home," he says, his voice low and full of regret as he steps even closer. Your eyes instinctively fall to his lips before locking onto his gaze. A heat rises within you, an undeniable pull—an ache to claim what is already yours.

And as if driven by instinct, you rise on your toes and press your lips to his in a tentative kiss, barely a whisper of contact, as though testing the waters. The taste of him is intoxicating—something that feels like it should be savored again and again. It’s overwhelming, addictive, his soft lips brushing against yours as your heart seems to stop for a fleeting moment. But caution wins, and you pull back, breath hitching as you study him. His eyes remain closed for a moment longer, his fingers brushing over his lips as though to confirm the reality of what just transpired. Slowly, his eyes open, smoldering with an intensity that takes your breath away.

"You shouldn’t have done that," Doctor Mayhew murmurs, his voice a low growl. Before you can respond, his arms snake around your waist, lifting you effortlessly as he crashes his lips into yours with fervor. The kiss is fire itself—searing and unrelenting, as though he wants to consume you entirely, pulling you closer, desperate for more of you with each passing second.

And it’s as if something ignites within you, a spark that feels as though you’ve always belonged to him. “Charlie…” you murmur between his kisses, your breaths coming in short gasps as you try to steady yourself.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes wide with surprise, though a glimmer of adoration softens his features. “That’s the first time you’ve called me Charlie since you woke up,” he whispers, his voice almost reverent against your lips.

You respond with a tender peck, letting yourself sink into the safety of his arms. “I wish I could remember you. I hope you know that,” you confess, gazing into his eyes. It’s the most honest thing you’ve said since you regained consciousness, and the raw sincerity in your voice hangs between you like a fragile thread of hope.

"I don’t care that you’ve forgotten me. I only want you to allow yourself to get to know me again," Charlie says softly, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek.

"Do you think having sex would help me remember you?" The question escapes your lips before you can even process it, the desire that’s been simmering since you saw him moments ago suddenly rising to the surface.

Charlie freezes, his lips lingering near your skin as his breath hitches. His gaze locks onto yours, a mix of surprise and amusement flickering in his eyes. "I thought I was the doctor here," Charlie murmurs, a faint smirk curving his lips as his eyes search yours. The teasing tone in his voice doesn’t mask the tension building between you.

He takes a step closer, his hands gently finding your waist, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "But if that’s your hypothesis..." his voice drops, low and intoxicating, "I’d be more than willing to help you test it." The heat in his gaze is undeniable, yet there’s a tenderness there, as though he’s waiting for your permission to cross the line you just hinted at.

The sound of a phone ringing breaks the moment, echoing from the direction of the bedroom. Charlie seems momentarily hesitant, glancing toward the source of the noise before he gives in and walks over to answer it. His voice lowers, the words indistinct as he speaks in murmurs, clearly trying to keep the conversation private. You stand there, feeling a shift in the atmosphere as his attention moves elsewhere. When he returns, there's a visible change in his demeanor, a hint of disappointment in his eyes. "Unfortunately, we can't test your hypothesis right now," he says, his tone a little colder than before. He plants a soft kiss on your lips before continuing, trying to lighten the mood. "I have a patient in need of urgent assistance."

Charlie leans in to give you a quick kiss on the lips, a fleeting gesture to maintain some connection despite the shift in mood. "But you’re welcome to stay here, take a relaxing bath, and explore the house. The only room that’s locked is my office, but the rest is open. You’ve met Ed, our driver. Mary, the housekeeper, is here as well, though you haven’t met her yet. If you’re hungry, all the takeout numbers are by the phone," he says before turning to finish getting ready.

As he finishes getting dressed, you can sense something unspoken hanging in the air between you, his demeanor colder now. "And, if you want to pick up where we left off later... just let me know," he adds, his words lingering in the space between you, leaving the invitation open yet uncertain. He pauses, studying you for a moment longer than necessary before turning to finish his preparations, the unspoken tension between you both hanging in the air.

"I think I'll take a bath and get acquainted with the house, but I'd like to have dinner with you," you say as you watch him finish getting dressed for work, struggling with the knot of his tie. You step forward, as if you're naturally accustomed to this, and expertly tie the knot for him—firm and neat. He smiles, genuinely appreciative.

"It seems like you still remember how to make a perfect tie knot," he comments, then takes your hands in his and presses a gentle kiss to your fingers. "I'll be here for dinner," he assures you before grabbing his briefcase and lab coat, rushing out the door. You're certainly charmed by your husband, but there's a growing sense of unease, too. Why would he be so secretive about his calls and office if he has nothing to hide?

[bettsfic]

Betts. how do I stop feeling jealous of everyone and everything and just focus on myself? I'm tired of being comprised of nothing but envy.

story time:

so i was recently at Millay, which is one of the top artist residencies in the country. they have an acceptance rate of something like 3%. when i was shown my room, there was a packet of all the residents' artist bios. i sat down and read through all of them. most of them were like half a page in length, single-spaced, listing out accomplishments i could never dream of. one artist had won a guggenheim. one author had published 12 books. another author published her first book at 19 years old. these were people who were extremely well accomplished and respected in their fields.

and we all became very good friends!

and then there was me. my bio was 3 sentences listing out a couple short publications and awards and other residencies i'd done. and my honest to god first thought was, "wow, the jurors must have really liked my writing to have accepted me among all these great artists."

and my second thought was, "that's the healthiest thing i have ever thought."

i had no jealousy of their accomplishments. even though my career hadn't even begun compared to theirs, i didn't attend dinner that night with any impostor syndrome. and that confirmed for me that i had grown out of whatever place i used to be in as a person, where i was basically a raw wound wrapped in barbed wire. everything hurt me and i hurt everything in return.

jealous feelings come from an intense need of external approval, but as i've mentioned in other asks, approval and validation is a well that gets filled over time. at our introductory dinner that night, i didn't talk about my work in the hope of convincing everyone i deserved to be there, which was what i would've done a few years before. instead we all ended up talking about a TV show. the most highbrow place i've ever been in my life, and we're getting wine drunk and discussing at length a cheesy discovery channel reality series. the guggenheim winner: loves box turtles. the guy who's published 12 books: his favorite movie is Spirited Away. the girl who published a book at 19: reads One Direction fanfic. the well-lauded poet: old school tumblrina.

actually, 4 out of 7 of us read fanfic and we had some great conversations about it. sometime i'll tell you about introducing the co-director of the residency to AO3.

when you think of the most accomplished and successful writer you've ever read, remember that they are, at the very core of their being, a nerd. and if you were to eat dinner with them, you would, with enough polite inquisitiveness, be able to unlock the goofy side of them that binges Property Brothers.

so that was the big change for me, i think. i started asking a lot of questions. i stopped talking and i started listening. it seems counterintuitive that admitting to not knowing stuff shows confidence, but it does. pretending you know stuff is what looks insecure. i think for me, i put so much of myself in my work, i wanted my work to be lauded so i could feel accomplished, and feeling accomplishment would let me believe i deserved to exist. but over time, i've reframed that mentality. my work is a thing that exists beyond me and is private to those who read it. it comes from me, but it is not me. what i am is just the person i am, and my life is a series of moments i choose for myself, and i am allowed to exist.

even sending this ask shows that you've begun filling your well. it takes someone who's already come a long way to realize jealousy isn't the status quo and is a feeling to be overcome. and you can overcome it. you can reach a place where you have enough success that other people's success has nothing to do with you, and you're free to just be happy for them. and when you read work that's better than yours you feel joy at learning something new.

so put your work into the world and let it be rejected. you'll rack up a couple wins or close calls, and those will give you energy to be rejected some more. and eventually you'll be rejected so much that rejection doesn't feel like anything, and you will have won enough to realize your work has a place in the world, and that place is no bigger or smaller than anyone else's. your work is allowed to exist simply as it is, and you are allowed to exist simply as you are.

[pinkrosealice]

I really like crossover fanfics and fan art, I really do. However I sometimes feel like some of the most popular fandom crossovers are also ones that perpetually fall into boring and predictable patterns while simultaneously and consistently ignoring/forgetting the most obvious and easy ways two or more fictional properties could be combined or crossed over.

And I think this is nowhere more apparent than the absolute proliferation of Danny Phantom and DC comics content here on this site.

Because you know what, I think there are some really cool and interesting things you could do with placing Danny and company in the world of DC or vice versa. The problem is that overwhelmingly I don't see any of those interesting ideas being done.

It's all the same variation of like three different plot points, all of which are exacerbated in their boring unoriginality and fandom cringiness by the fact that they also almost entirely revolve around the same flanderizations of DC characters that originate from people whose understanding of these comic book characters is entirely based off of watching the Teen Titans and Young Justice cartoons.

I am so so so so tired of seeing the same premise of Danny getting involved with Batman because he's a dark-haired light colored eyed superhero "twink" just like the rest of the male Robins. I'm tired of him getting adopted by Bruce, I'm tired of him being secretly Dick Grayson's long lost relative.

What's even worse is this crossovers frequent demonstration of what I think is the inexcusable sin of unoriginally using John Constantine, a character that I by and large think the vast majority of this website and it's user base just doesn't understand and probably never will. (this is a whole separate rant but the website that at one point had the majority of its user-base obsessed with an imaginary queer interpretation of one of the most aggressively mediocre and dude bro heterosexual paranormal TV shows to have ever existed is one that I think is fundamentally incapable of actually understanding or appreciating a legitimately compelling queer paranormal/urban fantasy character. The website that thinks Cas and & Dean were anything, whether that be a compelling romance, compelling characters or even in a good or enjoyable show, I think are forever incapable of actually understanding John.)

Do I think you could write an interesting story with John Constantine interacting with Danny? Yeah sure but I think that that would be entirely predicated on one's ability to actually write John compellingly, which is a dubious ask in the first place AND regardless it's still the most uninspired and boring interpretation of what you could do with "Danny interacting with one of the supernatural characters of DC"

Here are some actual recommendations for interesting crossovers and universe fusions :

*The fact that people want to have Danny Fenton interact with DC characters and Deadman and Secret are not the characters that immediately come to mind for fic ideas shows I think either the fundamental lack of creativity on the part of people who like this crossover, or just that they really don't know shit about DC comics....... Danny and Boston Brand would play off each other so well both comedically and as potential mentor and mentee. Greta and Danny would be ADORABLE together whether it is just friends or in a shippy dynamic.

* We need stories where Danny is interacting with The Spector, and the lack of them is just plain criminal in my opinion. I really could see a bunch of really cool stories where GhostKing Danny is put into conflict with the Vengeance of God. Or make him team up with The Specter have and have him fight Eclipso.

*we know the DC afterlife is incredibly complicated and interconnected with other mystical realms such as The Dreaming and Hell, maybe explore how that would relate to DP's conception of the Ghost Zone. Danny, Zachary Zatara and Kid Devil's bizarre interdimensional odyssey would be a great fic!

* if one has to put Danny in Gotham for some reason or another have him fight against the Gentleman Ghost, play around with the relationship with the glowing green ectoplasm and the green glowing liquid of the Lazarus Pits, and if you do that you have an excuse to make him interact with Jason Todd if you absolutely can't resist bringing in a member of the Bat family. Remember, Jason has the ability to summon forth magical blades under certain circumstances and as a character who has repeatedly died and come back to life he's the only bat that I think would actually have interesting interactions with Danny.

* but above all if you have to have Danny Phantom and company goes to Gotham as your story premise, I cannot emphasize this enough, HAVE HIM TEAM UP WITH RAGMAN!!!!!! I swear to God, have the snarky Ghost Boy interact with the character whose costume is literally filled with ghosts!!!!!!

*going back to the ectoplasm and Lazarus Pit idea, make Danny an avatar of The Black/ Rot. I would absolutely love to see him have to contend with the likes of Anton Arcane or come into conflict with Swamp Thing and Animal Man. Also having Swamp Thing present in the story would give a far more organic reason as to why John Constantine would be interested in this teenager with ghost powers.

So yeah I would kindly ask the people who are so insistent on producing crossover content of these two fandoms to actually do some interesting ideas.

And incidentally while we're on the subject matter, the fact that so much of Danny Phantom is directly inspired by Spider-Man and yet there's not really a lot of crossover between DP and Marvel properties is really really bizarre to me, especially because this website's user base purports to be such huge appreciators of the Spider-Verse films........

[felassan]

What's all this about Solas speaking in iambic pentameter? English isn't my first language so I never noticed anything odd about the way he talks, but your blog is the first time I've seen it mentioned by anyone

hello! ◕‿◕ Solas sometimes speaks in a specific pattern or rhythm. It sometimes gets described as or compared by people to iambic pentameter. (which is a type of rhythm common in traditional English poetry. Shakespeare used it in his sonnets and plays.) Though, I'm not sure that it's actually literally that or always that. The main point is that at those times, he's speaking particularly poetically, with a specific poetic rhythm in his speech. (Like where the stress on syllables is and the 'beats' in his speech.) Occasionally, the Inquisitor's dialogue line[s] in response to him are the same.

When Trick Weekes wrote Solas in DA:I, they wrote some of his key scenes to KD Lang's cover of the song Hallelujah on a loop. They talked about some of their process and the reasons for the use of this technique in terms of Solas' characterization in this DA:I-era blog post:

Trick Weekes: "When Solas talks about things that he saw in the Fade, things that speak to a distant past, I needed him to sound ever so slightly otherworldly and wistful – someone remembering a dream with a sense of both sadness and inevitability. If you follow [that link] and look at some of Solas’s lines, you may notice a familiar rhythm come out. It would have been forcing it to give lines the same rhyme scheme, but giving the words the meter captured some of that wistfulness and made Solas sound ever so slightly otherworldly. (In the rare cases the player got into the same rhythm, there was always an approval bump from Solas. For that brief period, it was like the player was thinking like he did.) I used this a few times over the game, and I love what it did to his voice. Also, Cori (who edited Solas) is exceedingly kind for putting up with my request that changes to those lines keep this surreptitious rhythm."

[source]

An example of when it happens in DA:I is:

"I've journeyed deep into the Fade // in ancient ruins and battlefields // to see the dreams of lost civilizations. I've watched as hosts of spirits clash // to reenact the bloody past // in ancient wars both famous and forgotten. Every great war // has its heroes. // I'm just curious // what kind you'll be."

Compare this with the song's lyrics:

"I heard there was a secret chord // That David played, and it pleased the Lord // You don't really care for music, do ya? Well it goes like this: The fourth, the fifth // The minor fall, the major lift // The baffled king composing Hallelujah Hallelujah // Hallelujah // Hallelujah // Hallelujah"

An example from Trespasser is:

"I lay in dark and dreaming sleep [I heard there was a secret chord] while countless wars and ages passed [That David played, and it pleased the Lord] I woke still weak a year before I joined you. [You don't really care for music, do ya?]" etc.

Recent mentions of this are:

Q. Will Solas still occasionally or dramatically speak in iambic pentameter? A. “Massive kudos to Patrick, who always writes Solas so well. Again, Solas is a returning character. It’s the same Solas you know and love (or hate depending on who you are). The same writer. So I think the answer is yeah, it’s Solas.” – John Epler

[source: BioWare dev Discord Q&A on June 14th]

User: "you really went off with solas. but the iambic pentameter makes writing fanfic dialogue for him so treacherous..." Trick Weekes: "It doesn't always have to be in the cadence! Just when he's deeply feeling The Old Days! He's written in standard prose 99% of the time!"

[source]

I think he does it a bit in the gameplay reveal video [Veil ripping scene with Varric] too. hope this helps :>

[msg refs this post]

[For the developer Q&A from June 14th on Discord: Notes are here, re-watch link is here]

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Different Universes (Hannibal)

Description: Y/N ends up in the Hannibal universe and Hannibal falls for her

Warning: Smut, Cheating (sorta)

Word Count: 2,526k

Request: could you write a fanfic where the reader is a big fan of the Hannibal series, just goes about her day normaly,falls asleep and then wakes up in the Hannibal universe. She tries to figure out where she is (without knowing that she is in an alt. universe) and witnesses an actual murder, but manages to escaped unscathed with her knowledge of the Hannibal universe. After that she is contacted by the FBI, who want to interrogate her and this is how she ultimatly meets Dr.Lecter, who will be her therapist.(with her realising who he is).He quickly gets intrigued with her and wants to get to kniw her. Would it be possible to end it with some smut? Sorry, if this a really odd request.

Author’s note: I changed some things up but I really like these sort of requests. Also I work all day tomorrow so I will post two fics today.

Being married to a celebrity had it’s pros and cons. Cons being that fans were everywhere and so was paparazzi. You could never get a break. But the fans are what made Y/N’s husband who he is today and his talent of course. Pros being that the one person everyone thirst for on the internet you have. They love you and that it makes you feel like the luckiest person in the world. And of course when you see them on TV it’s like watching your husband. Oh wait, it is. Y/N and Mads have been together for 5 years, married for 1. They were 20 years apart but that didn’t mean anything to them. Y/N is a fan of Hannibal and watches it all the time, like right now.

She always wondered what it would be like to be in the show. It was something that crossed her mind often. She even read fanfic about her husband’s character. She would give anything to be in that universe even for a day. So When she wakes up outside Hannibal’s house, she isn’t too upset. At first she didn’t realize where she was, but it looked familiar. It took a minute but she gasped so hard she started choking once she realized it. She was outside Hannibal Lecter’s house. She looked around in awe, she couldn’t believe that she was here.

She walked around his house for a little bit, exploring the place. “Can I help you?” She heard it was her husband’s accent. She turned towards the voice and gasped. It was Mads except it wasn’t, it was Hannibal. “You look lost.” He stated as she looked at him in awe. She couldn’t say anything, too shocked. “Can you talk?” He asked after a while of silence. “Yeah I uh yes.” She said, making the man chuckle. “Are you okay?” He asked. “I don’t know.” She answered, she really didn’t. “Come inside. I’ll make you something to eat.” She got excited at first but realized that Hannibal was a cannibal.

“Uh I’ll just take some tea.” She said as they walked in his house. His house looked like it did on the show. He poured the tea and she watched him. “Can you tell me why you were outside my house?” He asked as he handed her the tea. “I actually don’t know. One minute I’m on the couch in my house watching TV, the next I’m here.” He hummed at her words. “So you sleep walk?” He asked. She shook her head, “No.” He looked at her as she drank from the cup. She was beautiful and he felt like he knew her. “I feel like you do and don’t realize it. Have you ever woken up in a weird place before?” He asked, she shook her head. “No. This is a first.” She said.

He got up and walked upstairs leaving her there in her thoughts. Moments later he returned with a notebook. “I thought I recognized you. You’re my new patient. Y/N.” She looked at him confused. “Patient?” She asked. “Jack Crawford assigned you to me after you witnessed a murder.” She had no memory of this. “Um okay.” She said still confused but realized that she had woken up in this universe and this wasn’t a dream. She was a part of this show. Though she had no memory prior to waking up outside his house. “Right. Sorry I just forgot.” She lied. He nodded and opened the notebook. “I guess we can start our session now. Wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.” He said. She looked at him as he wrote some things down. “Okay Ms. Y/N tell me what you remember about the murder.” She was fucked.

After the session was over she realized that she probably couldn’t stay here even though she hadn’t had a place to go. “I will see you next week.” He told her as she walked out of his house. She didn’t know what she was going to do. She had no memory of anything that he said. So she certainly doesn’t remember where her home would be. As she left his house she thought of what she could do. Thought of going back and falling asleep by his house but what would she do for a week? She huffed as she walked back to his house and rang the door bell. He answered and she sighed, “Can I stay the night?” 

It was beyond her why he agreed without explanation. She sat in the bed that he gave her and just thought. Thought about how crazy this was and how apart of her wants to go back to her universe. As she sat on the bed thinking she heard a knock. “Come in.” She said and Hannibal walked into the room. He saw how distraught she looked and he sat by her. “You okay?” He asked, concerned in his eyes. She looked at him, god he looked so much like her husband. She knew that he basically was but he wasn’t. “I don’t know.” She whispered. “Is this about not having any memory at first?” She wanted to tell him. She wanted to tell him the truth, that she wasn’t from this universe and that she’s married to his actor but he would probably think she’s nuts. But she couldn’t live in this world alone.

“I’m gonna say something and it’s going to sound crazy but I need you to bare with me.” He nods. She lets out a sigh and looks away from him. “I’m not from here.” She says. He looks at her confused, “What do you mean?” “Like this universe. I’m from a different one and in that universe this is a tv show called Hannibal. If i’m not mistaken given what you’re wearing this is season two and Will Graham is in prison for crimes he did not commit. You committed them but don’t worry I won’t tell. And your actor is my husband Mads Mikkelsen.” His jaw dropped and he looked at her in shock. He wasn’t quite sure he believed her. But how did she know that he was the killer? “Mads Mikkelsen?” He asked. She raised an eyebrow at him.

That’s really what he got out of all of that. “Yes that’s my husband, that’s you just in a different universe.” He didn’t know what to say, she sounded crazy. “I know I sound crazy.” “Well I wouldn’t say that.” He tried, she rolled her eyes. “But i’m telling the truth. That’s why I don’t remember anything from here like the murder or the FBI.” “But you told me the story.” “I lied.” He nodded. “I’m sorry Hannibal. I know this is a lot to hear.” “I’m a TV Show character and my actor is married to you and you are well aware that i’m the killer.” He summed up what he could.

She looked at her hands, “You have to believe me.” He looked at her. She had to be crazy, none of it made sense. Though he could read people very well and she didn’t seem like she was lying. “Do I ever get caught?” He asked. She looked at him, “Yes but you escape.” He nodded. “With Will. I mean you two are basically in love.” He gave her a weird look. “I’m not in love with Will.” She looked at him with a “really?” look. “I’m not.” He said. She shook her head, “yeah whatever you say.” “Does he love me?” She chuckled at the question but nodded. “One might say he does but you guys don’t get together. You almost kiss but that’s it. You might be together after the show ends. There isn’t a fourth season.” She tells him. “This is unique.” He told her and she laughed. “I know but it’s all true.” “So since the man you call Mads? Plays me do you find me attractive?” He asked. She looked at him, red in the face.

“I mean yeah. Of course I do.” She said. “So then if I kissed you, you’d be okay with it?” Her jaw was on the floor. “I uh I mean yeah. Yes, I would like that.” She said. He leaned in and kissed her. She was shocked that it came down to this moment but she wasn’t complaining. She kissed him back and cupped his face. Their lips moved in sync as thoughts were racing through both of their minds. This was all crazy. She got up and straddled him, pulling him closer. His hands were placed on her hips as she deepened the kiss. Her hands ran through his hair. “Have you always wanted to do this?” He asked against her lips. She nodded out of breath. “Yes.” He smirked and ran his fingers over her lips. “Have you thought about having sex with me?” She nodded and pushed him down so he was laying on the bed. His hands went under her shirt and she pulled it off her body revealing a red lace bra that she had on. His hands immediately went to her boobs. “You’re so beautiful.” He tells her and removes the bra.

She lets it fall off her before she throws it with her shirt. Her hands travel down his white shirt that he was in. He looked so good in PJ’s. “Take this off.” She tells him. He leans up and takes the shirt off, throwing it with her things. He didn’t have abs per say but he was still the hottest man she’s ever seen. She gets off him to remove her panties and he removes his PJ pants and boxers. She straddles him again and looks down at him. He looked up at her like she was his whole world, in her universe she was. His hands pulled her hips closer to where she was almost lined up with him. She looked down and saw his hard dick. Same size and thickness as her husband. He watched her as she lined herself up and slowly sat on his dick. He felt her walls taking him in like they were made for each other. She let out little moans until he was all the way in her.

His hands held her hips again and she began riding him. She went slow at first building up the pleasure. They didn’t break eye contact as her jaw dropped. It felt so good. He could feel her walls clenching him and it made him groan. How was he supposed to be in love with Will when she was here? Her hips started moving faster and faster making the pleasure more intense. Both of them making noise now, enjoying the moment. She leaned down and kissed him, silencing her moans. Their lips moved together in a sloppy kiss. It wasn’t a neat kiss, it was tongue and teeth and everything was put into it. Hannibal’s hands gripped her back as he felt himself getting closer. She gasped into his mouth as she felt her high near. Her eyes rolled back as her hips went faster.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her face, it was like a pretty painting that he longed to see. She was so close she could taste it. “Are you going to cum, pretty girl?” He asked her. That’s all it took. She was cumming all over him with whines of his name. Seeing her cum, made him cum even harder. With a groan of her name he released inside of her. Her hips slowly move to ride out their orgasms. Her moans die down and her hips stop. She looks down at the man still shock that he’s Hannibal fucking Lecter. He stares back at her with a look in his eyes she knows all too well. It’s the same look her husband gives her. Is this man in love with her? 

She had to get back to her universe. This was so nice but she didn’t belong here. She belonged with Mads not Hannibal but since Mads plays Hannibal she does love him. But the time she has spent with him has been amazing and she didn’t wanna leave but she also wanted to get back to her life. Hannibal was a killer after all. She knows how this story ends and she truly thinks Will and him are meant to be.

As much as she loves him she doesn’t wanna change that. But these past few weeks have been amazing. She laid her on Hannibal’s chest as they just talked. “Is your universe different from this one?” He asked. It kinda was in a sense that the issues going on in this universe were the only focus and in her universe they aren’t just main focuses like that. Everyone has got their own problems. “It feels the same but from watching it on TV no.” Will’s powers that he has as well. “And Will’s visions.” “Now I definitely believe you.” He joked and they both laughed. This was nice. Not having any actual problems besides to get back to her universe. “When does Will get out of prison?” He asked. She shouldn’t tell him. “Soon.” Was all she said. 

She sat at the table as she watched him make dinner. It was like a routine. She loved doing it but as she watched them cook, she realized that this was the stuff that her and Mads did. They had a life together and this reflected that. “I’ve really enjoyed our time together, Hannibal.” She said with a smile as she drank from her wine glass. He smiled and gave her a plate. “I have to.” Her smile dropped slightly as she looked up at him. “I uh wish I could stay.” She said. “You can.” He told her. “I can’t though. I have a husband and life to get back to.” She told him. “I’m your husband though. I mean technically.” She looks at him and sighs, “You are but you aren’t. My husband isn’t a cannibal. He just plays one on TV.” “So I’m just a TV character to you.” That knocked the wind right out of her.

That was something she never thought she’d ever hear. She loved fictional characters so much and they were so much more than that but hearing that question made her sick. “No Hanni you’re not you’re so much more than that but you gotta look at it from my perspective this wasn’t supposed to happen. I don’t even know how it happened.” She told him. “To you it wasn’t. But this to me was a blessing.” He took her hands. She looked up at him from her seat. “Stay with me, Y/N. I can give you all he can.” But he couldn’t and they both have different endings that don’t include each other. “Hannibal you’re amazing but we aren’t meant to be together.” She said. “Then how come you’re here?” She didn’t have an answer for that. She truly didn’t know. Luck? She didn’t have an answer to his question but all she knew was that she had to get back to her universe

[romanticoms]

everything i said i knew, i didn't (come through)

lando norris x fem!reader → tags: wc 2.2k, pure smut, fan(?) x athlete, no use of y/n (thankfully) not proofread, 5am.

author's note: this set us back by like 60 years.. i won't elaborate on why it's so bad. (my excuse is that i only write resident evil fanfics :3)

it's about a week or so into the new season, which has everyone evidently excited, some more so than others, much like you, you could only ever dream of watching the races in real time, it's a given that you're on vacation a little too near to what could be considered a hotspot for drivers alike.

drivers were practically saran wrapped in black coats, heading from the hotel lobby straight up to their respective rooms,

you were just a simple thing, minding your own business, it'd be rude to even try to look for any one of the drivers, that's class a asshole behaviour, as much as you were willing to look for any of them, it's not like it's in your cards to find a driver on their one special night's rest, let alone build up the courage and ask any one of them for their signatures.

to your surprise, word on the street says something about mclaren's drivers promoting a new sponsor of theirs, it won't hurt to snag a picture or two, especially now that there are fans posting about it,

you arrive at the ballroom, not too big not too small, reasonable enough not to squint to look at either one of the two, but you were fairly distanced away from the two, a crowd lies in between you and the two, hell, if someone had to point you out from the crows it'd probably take hours, not for lando though, his eyes had been on you since the moment you'd been there, probably longer? only he knows, but it takes you a questionable amount of time to even realize who exactly he was staring at, you shrug off the possible feeling of the fact that he was actually staring at you, don't get your hopes up, that's what you agreed on since the start anyways.

a little after the event concludes, it's a slip past midnight but you still manage to shower the feeling of heavy crowds pushing you back and forth away, slipping into a racy nightdress, you're reminding yourself to make the best of a holiday, even if it means you have to sacrifice some comfort to look cute (even when nobody's looking), you finish off by tying a near slobbish knot that doesn't have you trying again, still buzzing with the idea that lando's been looking at you, as much as you're willing to deny it for the right reasons, it's true, looking back at the recordings on your phone and it's more apparent that he was taking quick glances at you and the crowd ahead of him, then you, back to the crowd, it's an endless cycle and it has you giggling to yourself, a fucking coincidence

a knock or two hits your door, it's faint but you're aware that it's bed time, room service at this time of the night? they changing your room due to booking fuck ups? you think of the possibilities on the short walk to the door, you peek through the peephole to find lando norris, at your door, smiling somewhat like an idiot.

meeting an f1 driver was certainly not on your "list of things that happened today" bingo card, let alone on the fact that he's here just to see you, it's too surreal it has you nearly weak at the knees.

the door, holy shit. opening the door, butter fingers, it's a generational curse, lando seems much more relaxed after seeing you, poor boy was probably scared he got the wrong room,

you turn to speak but he hushes you, a fucking finger to your lips and it already has you feeling butterflies, given your knees were weaker than gruel, he's had you in a trance, captivated to the point where you take a few steps back from the door until he allows himself in, he shuts the door softly, double— triple checking if they're locked, he turns to you, it's the glint in his eyes that show he owes you an explanation,

"sorry about that," he starts,

"what brings you here?" you ask out of pure concern, it shocks you (and others, probably) that lando would go out of his way for someone like you, it's cute, to a point.

"just needed an escapade," he sits himself on the edge of the bed, it's crazy that you have him here but there's no way in hell he's here for whatever your brain believes.

"well, if you really want to know," he clears his throat before speaking again, "i'm here to see you,"

"me? of all people, me?" you cough up, at this rate you won't stop beating yourself up over nothing, it's valid given the status difference between the two of you.

you're visibly surprised, and it amuses lando, well enough for him to take the first step.

"yes, you," he murmurs, standing as he speaks, his frame slightly overlooks yours, he's like a a shadow that's brighter than you, in any and every way, odd.

"i saw you at the event earlier, you'd be surprised to know how easy it is to play pretend with the concierge." he chuckles, you just stare at him with your arms crossed, like you're babysitting a kid.

"it's still shitty of me, i know, i know," he has both arms slightly up, you're turned to him, now you're sitting on the same bed as him and it smells like bergamot and a pang of tension.

a pang doesn't cut it, you stare deeply into his eyes as he does with yours, it's not long until you're letting out, it's messy, really.

catching onto how many times he's been chuckling in between kisses, it just gets hotter and hotter, he really is the sun much like they claim.

his arm is around your waist drawing you in closer to him, his free hand tangled in your hair, gently caressing your cheekbones.

he deepens the kiss, savoring the warm heat of your body against his. his hands move slowly down your back as he pulls you towards him, it's nearly dramatic, the way you two hit heavy on the bedframe while simultaneously continuing, like animals, it's evident from the pale moonlight watching over the two of you, he's ferocious, grasping onto either sides of your waist and down, bruising them evenly, he whines and bites his lip the moment you pull back, just briefly before he has you on your back, you feel the mattress dip as he gets closer to you, crooning in your neck, he whispers, "jesus, feels so fucking good,"

barely a minute, no, two minutes? three? you lost count, your mind is drifting elsewhere, questioning how lando could keep track of the time, (it's his job to do so, obviously) but his kisses just keep pulling you back to the situation at hand, he'll deal with the rest later, he's desperate to peel the layers of clothes stringing you two apart.

"come on, can't wait—" he mutters to himself, desperately undoing the final strap of your silk before tossing it somewhere to the side, he's careful to not rip a single thread,

if it weren't for anyone or anything suspecting your unexpected visitor this late at night, he'd make it his goal to get you to scream his name, he'll settle for what he can get now, the rest will come eventually.

"there, there, sweetheart," he's coaxing you relentlessly, you're at ease, "where do you want me?" he looks up at you, you say nothing, slowly snatching his wrist to feel his calloused palm feel your stomach, he's knee deep in this, you're just made that way, made for him, "fuck, that's hot," lando hisses by your ear as he positions himself to box your frame.

"want me to be gentle, sweetheart? or rough, it's your call," he murmurs sweetly before softly nibbling at the lobe of your ear, peppering kisses from ear to neck, "rough," you choke out, "didn't hear you, sweetheart," he's teasing you and it feels worse than having pins and needles, "rough, please," you're crying out and he's heartlessly teasing you, barely met the guy and you know he's gonna make up for it, "atta girl," it's like you were sculpted for him, mind, voice and body.

he brings the incessant teasing to a mere halt when he motions you to get on top of him, feeling your cold but sweat glazed back pitted against his abs, feeling his cock swell against you, in heat of the moment, you mindlessly respond to him without even realising it, swirling your tongue on his middle and ring fingers, coating through and through before bringing it down to your aching pussy, his digits pressed up on your clit, he's really, really slow with his movements but you're not fighting it, you're not fighting for a quick stimulation, given the situation, the pace and timing are suited to your mind's liking, not like when you'd desperately stuff your fingers in your pussy to take your mind off the edge, you were sloppy n' straightforward with it, but lando, lando's a whole other topic that needs to be studied,

"this good for you, sweetheart? i can go a whole new mile for you if you need me to, just give me the word, i'll be more than happy to provide," he's whispering in your ear and it's making your stomach turn, unable to think and come up with anything, you come, cum all over his hands, all over nearly nothing, guilt washes you, barely pleased him and you're already selfishly doing this, lando's not even questioning a thing, he smirks against your shoulder and you feel it, he's silent but he doesn't even think twice before he continues, "good girl, such a good girl," he's consistently praising you, still at the same pace, maybe a little faster, you wouldn't know because of how it'd felt in the moment, lightheaded but in a good way, indefinitely, cloud nine? better than that, then you're hit with a second orgasm, this time your legs trash and you nearly give in before he stops briefly, you're gasping for air but you're desperate to finish, "no, please, don't stop," you pant in frustration, "hey, i'm not going anywhere," he's nonchalant about it, treating your desperation with utmost attention, he's careful with you, switching positions, he's up and facing you on the bed, slowly going over your waistline, then, he lines the throbbing red heat of his cock with your mound, slowly teasing you, pushing it up and down for a few seconds before slowly bottoming out, you push back in a pang of shock, not even a split second later it feels better than anything you figured he'd promise, locking your fingers with his, slow but rhythmic slaps fill the hollow sound of your once empty room, he dives forth, finds the crook of your neck, slowly sinking his teeth in, this one definitely does it for you, the third orgasm definitely jumps on the scale, feeling it ramp up to a solid twelve, you feel lando pick up the pace, "'m gonna cum, baby, n' it's gonna be all over you, n' you're gonna take it," evident from the grunts you hear in the back of your mind before you're picked back up into reality, he pulls out and you feel empty, yearning just a little more, nothing beats the view of seeing his essence take up certain areas of your belly, he watches as your breathing slowly regulates.

figuring you need a minute or two to cool off, he disappears into the bathroom without saying a word, you hear the water run and hit the cold floor, then you start to see steam fog up the mirror from the door, conveniently angled to the bed, lando pops back out to pick you up, bridal style at that, he's admiring every feature painted on your face, even the waterproof mascara he's managed to ruin, kicking the door shut with the back of his foot, he sets you in the bath tub where you're immediately soothed by it's warm embrace.

[cornyforjk]

Your quite treason | JJK

ᥫ᭡pairing: married exbsf!jungkook x female reader 

ᥫ᭡genre: ex best friends, forbidden love , angst rating: 16+

ᥫ᭡warnings: drug and alcohol usage, mentions of cheating, swearing, depressed, obsession, crying and all that stupid stuff.

ᥫ᭡word count: around 20K (ik it's too much but i couldn't control my feelings 😩)

ᥫ᭡summary: Your love for Jeon Jungkook was ruining your life.

ᥫ᭡inspiration: Fortnight by The Motherr Taylor Swift (ft.Post Malone)

ᥫ᭡listen to: Fortnight by The Motherr Taylor Swift (ft.Post Malone), happier by Olivia Rodrigo

ᥫ᭡Author's note: AHHHH, okay, woof. This is the first ever fanfic I'll post, tho I've written many but never posted. Please bare if there's any grammatical mistake and if my writing feels too much.

Show some love and your suggestions are welcome in the comment section 😗

____________________________________

Hello Mrs. Park, how have you been?" You turn around to find Minji, speaking to you while watering the flowers of her front garden.

Minji, Jeon Minji. She always made you feel like the worst person, tho she never meant it. In fact,she's the sweetest and the kindest person you've ever known. And that's why, she's in the position you've always dreamed to be in. That's why she has the man you've always dreamt of.

And the fact, you can never be her nor in her position, makes you feel like the worst person on this earth.

"Hello, Mrs. Jeon, I've been doing just fine. How about you? " Tho your tongue burnt on the feeling of reffering her by the title,you still held up a smile. A smile behind which no one could see the pain. "I'm great, actually! But you, Mrs. Park, you look unwell." You sensed the concern to be genuine and you hated that. "Oh yeah, just tired from work. Yk it's too much these days." You replied, not wanting her to noticing anything wrong with you. "Ah, I understand. Work can get stressful, but I'm sure everything will get tell well soon." She smiles at you, and you see another reason why she's deserves the title more.

You smile back at her and thank her before leaving towards your house, your insides burning with the urge to kill her right then.

"There's a new couple shifting in the house behind ours" Jaehyun, your husband says while he's eating his breakfast. "Oh, in the Jung's? Didn't think they'll actually sell it" You reply, as you pack your lunch, not really caring for the fact. You forgot about it and the new info never crossed your mind once in the day.

It was when the bell rang and you opened the door only to face the new neighbors. Him, Oh god, It's him. Your excitement died the next second when you saw a very pretty women standing right beside him, her arm wrapped around his. "Oh-Oh hey Y/N. I totally didn't expect you! " His face evident with surprise. "You know her, babe?" The woman asked him. "Yeah, hun. She's a college friend. " That's when you felt your heart clench tightly.

Jeon Jungkook, the guy who you've been loving since your collage days even when you got married. The guy you thought of every night before you slept, the guy you thought about when woke up in the morning, the guy you thought about everytime when you ate icecream. Jeon Jungkook, was your friend who you trusted with your life. But now, he was just a stranger you know everything about. (Stranger by the loml Olivia Rodrigo, but the oc isn't over kookie😩)

"H-Hi. How are you J-Jungkook." You couldn't believe it. You've cried so many nights for him. Praying to get back in his arms, have him in your life as anyone, if not a lover. But now that he comes back, he's married. And very happily, you can see.

"I'm doing very well, Y/N. This is Jeon Minji, my wife. We have just shifted in the house right behind your backyard. So nice to see you again." You could feel your eyes pinch with pain, but you tried your best to pull up a bright smile. You can do this, you're very good at hiding feelings. Come on Y/N. "

I'm so happy to see you too. And hello Minji, nice to meet you. Well come in you both. " You move aside for them to come in but the refuse by saying, " It's fine, Y/N. We were just her to Introduce, but guess we don't need to do that. " Minji chuckles and continues, "But we'll see you soon. Have a good night. " She smiles at you, and you feel your legs tickling with jealousy. "You too have a good night, and please don't hesitate if you need any help in shifting. Both me and my husband are willing to help."

You fail to notice Jungkook stiffen as he's reminded that you're married too. He doesn't know why but he's always been uneasy with you being in a relationship and he has no idea why.

Both of them agree and leave after a short goodbye. You shut the door and you suddenly feel all the strength leaving your body. You collapse against the main door, still not believing everything that happened. All the memories that you were burying, we're now out of your control . You could hear his voice, feel his touch and his warmth. Tears made their way out of your eyes as you cry silently.

You unlock the main door to your house as you get inside. It's been so long since they've moved but you can't get yourself to move on. You reach the kitchen to grab a can of bear in an attempt to calm yourself down. But nothing seems to work, every drink or drug, leaves only a temporary effect. You continue loving jungkook even when you're high. You decide to take a cold shower when you hear the main door open again, only to see your shitty husband entering.

Jaehyun, both as a husband and a person, might be the worst guy you've ever met. You don't understand how he's able to lie on your face so smoothly. If you had control, you would have never married him. But fate and your parents had a different plan for you.

Around 2 months ago, your friend Sarah sent you a picture of Jaehyun with a girl sitting on his lap, and they were heavily making out. You didn't feel any pain in your heart but only shame, it felt like he had stepped hard on your dignity, your self respect. He made you feel like the most undeserving person, and he definitely did that intentionaly.

Ever since then, you've never started and conversation with him, disgusted to even look at him. And you guess, it makes it easier for him to leave the house whenever and stay at the girl's place. But you don't bring yourself to care, your mind always drift to jungkook and his very happy married life.

They're living their best lives, the typical rom-com like love life. Jungkook never leaves without a kiss with his wife. And Minji is always ready to welcome him by door when it's time for him to return.

When you had the same time routine, you always witnessed them being the happiest around each other and you had to change your timings. You couldn't bare seeing them being all lovey-dovey, so you leave for work earlier and arrive back home later.

"Y/N? " You were too drunk to hear him calling you. He called you out a few times before his hands reach your right arm to turn you around. "What the fuck!" You slurred, your drunkenness now evident to jungkook. "What are you doing here Y/N?? " He asks you with a strict voice, which soon melts when he sees you pout. "Kook, oh it's you thank god. I thought It was some guy again. " You said slowly as you moved closer to him. You were too drunk and high to remember the argument you had earlier. "Let's get you home Y/N. Don't you have morning classes tomorrow,hm? " He speaks very softly, as is talking to a kid. You mover your side to side, disagreeing with him and then you say, "Noo, let's have another drink and dance. I missed youuu" You wrap your arms around his neck, as your pouts grows even more. He chuckles while holding your waist just as tightly as you're holding him.

He agrees with you and empties the red cup you were having rum and coke in. Both of you weren't a fan of frat parties but whenever you're both together, everything feels the best. Jungkook's breathe fans over your neck as you both dance along On the floor by JLo.

When the chorus of the song starts you along with most of the other girls turn around to twerk along, as if it's a mandatory ritual. Jungkook's cheeks and ears turn bright pink as your ass grazed his crotch a few times while dancing and he wishes you don't notice. You turn back around to hold him again because when you weren't, you felt a certain type of coldness even when you're in bw so many people. His warmth was something which can get you just as high as a joint.

Both of you melted in each other's arms and stayed that way for so long, you didn't even know what song was playing now. "Mhmm, kookie can i kiss you? Just once I promise. " Jungkook wanted it, he wanted you to kiss him forever but he knew it's not safe for your friendship. He can't let his feelings over take him because he knows you only see him as a friend (who you might kiss sometimes 🤭) but how can he say no to you, especially when you're being so cute and adorable. So he decides to fuck it and bend down to kiss you. He captures your lips in a kiss as you both make out in the middle of the crowd. Jungkook felt like the luckiest person ever to have you like this. He has always been so happy that you're open to him with your feelings and uhm.

And you felt similar, just as euphoric and wanted this moment to last forever. Oh, how you wish to have him in all the ways possible. Even pray for it at every 11:11 you notice. And everything feels so good with him around. You were so in love with him but you knew he wasn't.

He has always been the best friend, the bestest you could ask for. But best friends can never be together, thec can never have feelings for each other because it always results in heartbreaks.

And so it did, both of yours heart broke quite terribly. When jungkook had to leave for USA after he got a job placement but he told you about it just 2 days before. Out of anger, you didn't talk to him neither did you come to see him off at the airport. Both of you were hurt, and you both had your reasons.

Next morning when you were returning from a morning run, you ran into Jungkook by the mail box. "Good Morning, Y/N" He wishes you and you just wanted to jump in his arms. "Oh, Good Morning to you too Jungkook! " You wished him back trying to match his level of energy. "How have you been? " You ask him further.

"I've been great, what about you? "

"I'm doing well too. " You reply, knowing you always feel well around him. "Good to hear that. The weather has been terrible these days" He says, trying to start a conversation.

"Yeah, ikr. It's so hot these days,even when it's just February." You both continue talking about random things when he invites you and Jaehyun over for dinner.

"Thank you for the invite, but i don't think Jaehyun will be able to make it, he comes back late these days. " You say and Jungkook could sense your hesitation on the topic of your husband. And ofc, him being the kindest human being , he asked, "oh, btw, is everything fine between you both? Minji mentioned you being very stressed these days. You know you can always reach out. " with concern evident in his eyes.

It became difficult to maintain an eye contact because you both know how terrible you're at lying to him. "W-well, yeah everything is fine between us" You say, your eyes roaming everywhere but jungkook. He knows that's not the truth so he persuades, "Y/N, yk you can't lie to me so tell me what's up? " When you finally meet his eyes, you feel like crying.

He thinks your misery is because of your husband but who's gonna tell him that he's the reason. He's why you're suffering, he's why you're depressed and he's the reason of your misery. You give him a little smile, and when you're about to continue, you get a phone call from your husband. "Uhh, I'll have to take this up. " You tell him and he says, "okay Y/N, I'll get going but please ask for any help that you need, hm? " With that you both smile at each other and leave.

"What? " You ask Jaehyun. "You're not at home? Where are you? " You turn around and see him at the main door. You scoff realising that he's coming back from that girl's place and you want to kill him right there.

It had been a week since you met him and now you were walking towards their house around 10pm. Your dad had been calling since morning but you couldn't answer his once . Though you're high as fuck but you can't find your phone, and that's why you're going to jungkook's place to ask for any of theirs phone.

You ring the bell and wait there for a few seconds. The gate opens and you're met with a just out of shower Jungkook. Your breathe hitches and you feel your cheeks burning. He's just as hot. "Umm, hi Y/N.all good? " He speaks, breaking your trance.

"Oh hellooo" You give him a 90° bow which startles him "I'm good how are youu? " Your words trail of as your brain suddenly feels numb. "Wait- are you drunk? " He recognises your drunken voice but you deny him by saying,

"Noooo. I'm not drunkk I'm Highh hehe" You start giggling and it confuses hi even more "I'm sorry to disturb you at this hour, but i need your phone." You pout, and jungkook feels like he's floating. He knows how it is, but your pout still softens him. "Come inside, it's cold. "

"Your wife isn't at home? " You ask him to which he replies, "no she's out with her friends for drinks."

"Oh cool"

You get inside his house and are amazed how pretty they've made it. This place screams jungkook and it feels so much like home. "So what brings you here? " He asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Ohh yeahh my phone was calling and I need to call him back but i can't find my dad" You pout again. This time he chuckles, laughing at your words.

"You can't find your dad?" His lips pulling into his iconic bunny smile.

"Yeahh, I can't find my dad. Can you give me your dad so i can call my dad, pleaseeee"

"Here you go, here's my dad" If you both were still young , he would've have teased you a lot. But you both have grown up and even though he wanted to, he couldn't.

"Thank you so muchhhh" You busy yourself dialing your no. when he asked you, "where's your husband tho? "

You were trying so hard to dial your no. correct, that you didn't realize when you said, "he's probably at his girlfriend's. "

"What"

"Holy fuck"

"Shit shit, you didn't hear anything" Your eyes widen with horror and you scolded yourself internally. "Wait fr? Jaehyun's cheating on you? And you know that?? " His eye balls almost out of the sockets, shock evident in his voice.

"Uhh, no no, Yk I'm-im drunk, don't mind that" You tried to play it off but jungkook wouldn't even budge. "Y/N, ik you're telling the truth, you don't have to lie to me. " His eyes full of concern and once again you feel your brain going numb. And you were starting to feel sober, which was even worse.

"Uhmm, I'll have to take your phone over so i can listen to my phone ring. " You ran quickly in an attempt to save yourself from further embarrassment.

Later in your room, you find your phone in your bathroom floor (you have no idea why) And now you have to return jungkook's phone back to him.

You gather so courage and reach his house. You plan on giving it to him and leaving right after thanking him.

And you did so, but after you turned around to leave, he held you arm in an attempt to turn you back. "Y/N, please talk to me. How long have you known this? " You see genuine concern in his eyes and feek like hugging him and crying on his chest.

"Uhh, just let it be jungkook."

"No, tell me. " His voice stern now.

"Why do you even care. It's nine of your business"

"But i just can't see you get hurt. " His voice soft again.

You looked in his eyes, and scoffed. "You can't se me hurt? Of all the hurt I've ever experienced, you have been one reason every fucking time. And you can't see me hurt? Wow"

Jungkook's face falls,but that doesn't stop you. "You fucking hurt me more than anyone does. I don't even care jaehyun's cheating one. It doesn't hurt me. But you do. You hurt me so much that i can't even feel any other pain. " Your voice now louder. Your eyes pinch with pain, tears threatening to fall. But no, you can't do this, not in front of him at least.

"How do i hurt you? " His voice low like a whisper. "Good question Jungkook. You wanna know how you hurt me? How don't wanna know since when you've been hurting me? "

"Y/N you're still mad at what happened almost 10 years ago? " A frown appears on his face and his tone makes you feel as if you're at fault.

"I wouldn't have been if it didn't affect me so much. And why do expect me to not? You told me fucking 2 days before you were leaving for Florida? You never called while you were there. You were living your life and here I was dying. I was suffering." Years finally rolled down your cheeks. And jungkook wanted to wile them down and hug you to make you feel better.

But he was feeling the similar frustration you were feeling. And it became evident when he said, " You weren't the only one Y/N! I was also hurt. You didn't even come to see me off at the airport even when I texted-begged you over text. I wanted to apologize you that day and tell you something important. But you decided to be egoistic and didn't come. And that's why I never called. Even when I was in utter need of help and support, I couldn't call you. Because I lost the level of trust and I knew you won't even pick up. "

His word felt like slap. He's right, you were being a bitch when you didn't meet of on the last day, but you were mad too. "I would have, I was missing you so much, I would have definitely. I would have caught the first flight to Florida only to be with you again." Your words were now slurred due to your crying, when you finally broke and jungkook felt like crying too.

"I know it's wrong, it's so so so wrong but I can't help myself. I can't control myself" You covered your face as you cried even harder. And when you felt his arms engulfing you, you couldn't hepl but wrap your arms around him too. Jungkook stands there caressing your back while he himself cries silently.

"It's so wrong I still can't move on-" Jungkook's heart picks up speed. He's not ready for this. You suddenly pulll away from him and wipe your tears. "I'll get going jungkook. " You left before you could do something that maight ruin not one but many hearts.

And for the next few weeks you so neither jungkook nor his wife and you were very glad for it. It was untill one Tuesday morning when you swa both of them in front of their house. And they were not kissing or anything but arguing? You heard Minji saying, "what has happened to you? You're so distant these days kook. You don't even kiss me a goodbye??" To which jungkook replies, "it's nothing baby, I'm just stressed with work and things are getting lost in the back of me brain. Come here lemme kiss you" You were shocked when you heard Minji saying "No, you're first gonna tell me who else you're so in love with"

"What the hell, Minji? Why would you say that? " Jungkook was just as shocked. You didn't want to hear anything further so you stepped out of the fence and that's when Minji calls you out. "Mrs.Park! Good morning!"

And hearing your name from her mouth, Jungkook's eyes light up and he turns around quickly to look at you. He couldn't control but then he blurted out, "Nice sweater, Y/N."

Minji called you out to check something and she was right. She was right. "Oh Good morning, Jeon fam. And thank you Jungkook. Hope you guys have a nice day!" You wished them and hurriedly left.

And so did Minji. Jungkook was left standing there.

It took him 2 minutes to finally understand how he reacted and complimented you which was totally out of his mind.

And he finally realises how fucked up he is.

[amethystarachnid]

hi! i’d like to request a loki x fem!reader

can you base it on “we can’t be friends” by ariana grande. something related to the music video in the sense that reader tries to erase her memory in order to “heal” after Loki turns into the god of stories and she is practically alone now. sorry its not angsty i can’t help myself 😩

hope this is okay! thanks queen

MEMORIES

⤷ LOKY LAUFEYSON

ᯓ★ Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, angst, like a lot of angst

ᯓ★ Requests status: open

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Summary: You thought Loki was your forever, the man with who you'd spend the resto of your life with, but he becomes the God of Stories you are left with nothing but memories of him, maybe you should get rid of those too.

ᯓ★ Word count: 8k

ᯓ★ TW(s): hinted depression, sleeping a lot to stay in the dreams and not eating because of this so weight loss

ᯓ★ Okay so, I need to tell you all the truth...I haven't watched Loki...But!! I've started it and I'm currently on episode 2, truth is me and tv series don't really go hand in hand so I don't know if I'll actually finish it. But to write this fanfic I tried to get as much information as I could and I hope you like it!

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The air is cool, tinged with the earthy scent of rain that had fallen just hours before, leaving the world fresh, like a new beginning. You sit on the balcony of your apartment, your legs tucked under you as you sip your coffee. The city below hums with the soft buzz of life, but up here, it's quiet. Just you and him.

Loki’s presence is a constant now. At first, it was a dangerous thrill — the God of Mischief, the trickster, the god of lies and chaos. But over time, you had come to know the man behind the myths, the one who spent far too many sleepless nights overthinking, doubting, and regretting. The one who, despite his flaws and his ever-conflicted nature, had let you in.

You can feel his gaze on you, even before you turn to face him. He's perched at the edge of the balcony, the golden light from the setting sun casting soft shadows on his face. His dark hair is tousled from the wind, and he’s watching you with that look — the one that makes you feel as though you’re the only thing in the universe that matters.

You smile, the warmth in your chest a stark contrast to the cool evening breeze. “What?”

He doesn’t answer at first. Instead, Loki steps closer, the air shifting around him in subtle, magical currents. He always has this way of bending the world to his whims. But right now, he’s just… himself. Not a god. Not a villain. Just Loki.

“Nothing,” he says, voice low, almost like a secret. “You just look… peaceful.”

You blink, surprised. Peaceful isn’t a word you’d ever associate with yourself, but you can’t help the way it feels with him beside you. It’s like the world is calm — for once, there’s no grand scheme or looming threat. Just him. And you.

“You’re the one who always looks so intense,” you tease, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “Like you’re plotting world domination.”

Loki’s eyes flicker with mischief, but there’s something softer in the way he regards you, something tender. “I don’t plot world domination. Not all the time.” He shrugs, as if the matter is trivial.

You laugh, but there’s a quiet moment between you, an unspoken understanding. You know what he means. Loki has always carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. The responsibility of his past, the expectations of his future. And yet, when it’s just the two of you, he lets it slip away.

You let your coffee rest on the railing and, without a word, turn to face him fully. Loki’s smile, small but genuine, tugs at something in your chest. You take a step closer to him, the distance between you shrinking as you reach out, your hand brushing against his.

It’s always like this, these quiet moments — when words are no longer necessary. His hand envelops yours effortlessly, and it’s like the universe settles into place. This is the calm you didn’t know you needed, the simple comfort of being in each other’s space.

“Do you ever think about the future?” you ask, your voice hesitant, unsure if you’re ready for the answer.

He watches you carefully, as if weighing your words. There’s a flicker of uncertainty in his gaze, a crack in the façade of the god you’re so used to. He tilts his head, his fingers gently tracing the back of your hand.

“Of course, I think about it,” he admits softly. “But I’ve spent so many lifetimes running from it, from the choices that will define me. The future… It’s complicated.”

You can hear the hesitation in his voice, the way he never fully commits to what’s ahead. Loki is a god of chaos, after all. He’s never been good with stability, with the idea of permanence. His eyes search yours, as though trying to read your mind.

“And you?” he asks, his voice almost a whisper.

You swallow, a lump forming in your throat. “I think about it too, but… I don’t know. The future feels like a blurry mess sometimes.”

He steps closer, his thumb brushing against your wrist in a soothing motion. “Whatever happens, we’ll face it together.”

There’s a sincerity in his words that takes you by surprise. Loki, the god who’d always kept everyone at arm’s length, including his own family, is now standing before you, offering his loyalty in a way that feels… real. No tricks, no games, just the promise of something honest.

“Together,” you repeat softly, the word tasting different on your lips when it comes from him.

His eyes flicker to the horizon, as though he’s considering something, before he looks back at you with a soft chuckle. “And if the future is full of chaos, we’ll make it our own chaos.”

You laugh, but there’s something in your chest that tightens at the thought of a future with Loki — with all that he represents, with all the uncertainty and danger that follow him like a dark cloud. But in this moment, you push it aside. There’s no room for fear when he’s beside you.

Loki takes your hand and leads you toward the edge of the balcony, his fingers never leaving yours. “Come,” he says, his voice low and gentle. “Let’s watch the sunset. Together.”

As you sit side by side, the sun dips below the horizon, painting the sky in warm shades of pink and gold. The world around you may be shifting, always changing, but here, in this moment, everything feels still. The weight of time feels distant. The future feels like a far-off dream that you can’t quite touch.

You rest your head against his shoulder, the soft sound of his breath steadying your own. Loki shifts slightly, his hand coming to rest on your back in an almost protective gesture. The quiet between you stretches, neither of you needing to speak.

For a moment, everything is perfect. The world, the chaos, the future — it all fades into the background, and all that remains is the calm. The love.

But deep down, you can’t ignore the feeling that this peace is fragile. Like glass, it’s delicate, and even though you’re holding onto it, you wonder how long it can last.

That peace doesn’t last forever.

The memory of that moment — the quiet between you, the warmth of his hand in yours — is the last thing you want to hold on to.

After everything has crumbled, after everything has changed, you find yourself sitting in a quiet, empty room, staring at the walls. The apartment feels hollow now, the silence too loud. The city outside moves on, unaware of the storm raging inside you.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

But Loki had become the God of Stories, and with that title came unimaginable power. The ability to rewrite fate itself, to shape reality, to weave his own narrative — and in the process, he’d lost himself. Or maybe it was you who had lost him. Maybe you were the one who didn’t fit into his new story.

You can still hear his voice in your mind, soft and warm, whispering that you would face the future together. But how could you face the future with him now? How could you stand by his side when he was no longer the Loki you knew?

It’s a bitter thought. One that claws at your chest. And the worst part is — you still love him. Even after everything. Even after the gods, after the chaos, after the mistakes, you still want him.

But it’s too much. The memories are too vivid, too painful. You can’t bear to remember him — not when every time you close your eyes, you see his face, and it’s like a stab to your heart.

You’ve made up your mind.

You’ll erase it all. Every memory of him.

The love. The pain. The warmth.

You’re not sure how, but you’ll do it. Because if you don’t, you’ll never move on. You’ll never be free.

The box feels heavier than it should as you lower it to the floor, your knees protesting the motion. A single lamp casts its warm glow across your apartment, but the light feels muted, swallowed by the shadows pressing in from every corner. It’s late, and the city outside seems quieter than usual, as if the world knows the significance of what you’re about to do.

Loki’s things are scattered around you in a mess of memories. A black scarf you once teased him about for being far too dramatic, a small leather-bound notebook filled with strange symbols and half-formed ideas, a gold trinket he’d magicked into existence one lazy afternoon to make you laugh. Each item holds a piece of him, of you, of you and him.

Your breath catches as you sit back on your heels, staring at the pile with a sinking feeling in your chest. It’s almost funny. You thought gathering his belongings would make it easier, like pulling off a bandage quickly to avoid the sting. But it’s worse. So much worse.

Your fingers tremble as they brush over the scarf. You remember the first time he wore it — the way it swept dramatically over his shoulder as he smirked at your teasing.

“Trying to impress me, Mischief?” you’d asked, a playful lilt to your voice.

Loki had leaned closer, that familiar spark of mischief lighting his green eyes. “Is it working?”

You’d laughed, shoving him lightly, but your heart had skipped a beat all the same. He had a way of doing that — making the smallest, most mundane moments feel like they belonged in an epic tale.

You shake your head, pulling yourself back to the present. The memory is too vivid, too sharp, and it slices through you like glass. That was before everything changed. Before he became something… unreachable.

Your fingers curl around the scarf, tightening as the memory threatens to drag you under. For a moment, you consider keeping it. Just this one thing. But no. You can’t. If you start keeping pieces of him, you’ll never let go.

You toss the scarf into the box, the action more forceful than you intended. It lands atop the notebook, the trinket, and the small collection of Loki’s things that have woven themselves into your life.

The notebook catches your eye again, and before you can stop yourself, you’re flipping it open. The pages are filled with Loki’s handwriting — sharp and elegant, like the man himself. Most of it is incomprehensible to you, written in Asgardian runes or some ancient language you don’t recognize. But on one page, near the middle, you find something familiar.

It’s your name.

Your breath hitches as you stare at the word, the letters carved into the page with a deliberate hand. Beneath it, a single line in English:

"You are my home."

The tears come then, hot and relentless, streaming down your cheeks before you can stop them. You clutch the notebook to your chest, your body shaking as the weight of it all crashes over you. He said those words to you once, late at night, when the world had felt quiet and safe.

You remember lying in bed together, his arm draped lazily over your waist, his voice a soft murmur against your ear. “You are my home,” he’d said, the words carrying a vulnerability he rarely allowed himself to show. “In all the realms, in all the chaos, I find my peace in you.”

And you had believed him. God, you’d believed him.

The notebook slips from your hands as you bury your face in your palms, sobs wracking your body. You’d thought you were strong enough to do this, to let him go, but the memories won’t stop. They cling to you like shadows, refusing to release their grip.

It’s not fair. He had no right to carve himself into your soul like this, to leave behind pieces of himself in every corner of your life. How are you supposed to erase someone who’s become a part of you?

You sit there for what feels like hours, the box of Loki’s things staring back at you like a silent witness to your unraveling. Eventually, the tears subside, leaving you hollow and exhausted. Your eyes sting, and your throat feels raw, but you force yourself to move.

Gathering the box, you rise to your feet, your legs unsteady. The plan is simple: take it to the small clearing behind the building, set it ablaze, and watch the memories burn. Maybe then the pain will ease. Maybe then you’ll finally be free.

You step outside, the cool night air biting against your skin. The clearing is quiet, save for the distant hum of the city. You place the box in the center, your fingers brushing over the edges one last time.

You light the match.

The flame flickers to life, small and fragile in your hand. You hesitate, the weight of the moment pressing down on you. This is it. This is the final goodbye.

But as you stare at the flame, something inside you cracks. You think of the sunsets you watched together, the way he’d tuck your hair behind your ear when he thought you weren’t paying attention, the soft, unguarded moments that made you fall in love with him in the first place.

Can you really do this?

Your hand shakes as you lower the match, the flame dancing dangerously close to the edge of the box. The scent of sulfur fills the air, and for a moment, you think you’ll go through with it. You’ll let it all burn.

But then, the match falls from your fingers, the flame snuffing out as it hits the damp grass.

You drop to your knees, the box still untouched, your chest heaving with uneven breaths. You can’t do it. You can’t erase him, no matter how much it hurts to remember. Because the memories aren’t just painful. They’re beautiful, too.

And maybe that’s the cruelest part of all.

The bar is crowded, the kind of loud and bustling place you would never have chosen for yourself, but your friends insisted. “You need to get out,” they had said. “Meet people. Forget about him.”

Forget about him.

As if it were that simple.

You sit at a small, high table near the back, a drink cradled in your hand. The music pulses through the air, the bass thrumming in your chest, but it does nothing to drown out the thoughts that swirl endlessly in your mind. Around you, your friends laugh and chatter, their voices a blur of encouragement and reassurances.

It’s been months since Loki left — or, more accurately, since he became something else, someone you could no longer reach. Months since you tried to burn his things and failed, the box now tucked away in the corner of your closet like a secret you can’t bear to part with.

And yet, even with all the time and distance, the memories still haunt you. He’s still there, in the quiet moments, in the back of your mind, a shadow you can’t escape.

A new drink appears in front of you, courtesy of one of your friends. “He’s cute, isn’t he?” she whispers, nudging you with her elbow. You glance toward the bar, where a man stands with a confident smile and sharp cheekbones. He’s attractive, you suppose. Objectively. But as your gaze lingers, the comparisons begin, unbidden and unstoppable.

His hair isn’t as dark as Loki’s. His eyes aren’t as piercing. And when he smiles, it doesn’t make your chest tighten the way Loki’s did when he let his walls down and gave you that rare, genuine look that was only for you.

“Go talk to him,” your friend urges, her tone light and encouraging. You hesitate, but the expectant looks from the rest of your group leave you feeling cornered. With a reluctant sigh, you slide off your stool and make your way toward the bar.

The man notices you immediately, his smile widening as you approach. He introduces himself — James, or Jake, or something that doesn’t stick in your memory. You force a polite smile, nodding as he talks about his job, his hobbies, his plans for the weekend.

But you’re not really listening.

Instead, you’re thinking about how different he is. Loki’s voice had a way of wrapping around you, rich and velvety, with an edge that hinted at mischief or danger. His words weren’t just conversations; they were an invitation to step into his world, to see the universe through his eyes.

This man — James, Jake, whoever — is ordinary. Normal. And maybe that’s what you’re supposed to want now, but it feels hollow.

He says something that makes you chuckle politely, and for a moment, you catch yourself wondering what Loki would think if he saw you now. Would he be amused, watching you try to piece yourself back together with someone so utterly unremarkable? Or would he feel that flicker of jealousy, the possessiveness he always tried to hide but never fully could?

The thought twists something in your chest, and you excuse yourself quickly, claiming you need to get back to your friends.

“Not your type?” one of them teases when you return, her grin playful.

“No,” you say simply, sipping your drink. But the truth is more complicated than that. It’s not that he wasn’t your type. It’s that he wasn’t Loki.

The pattern repeats itself over the following weeks.

Your friends take you to new places, introduce you to new people, all with the hope that one of them will spark something in you. And each time, it ends the same way.

You meet someone kind, someone charming, someone your friends swear would be perfect for you. And each time, you find yourself comparing them to him.

No one holds a candle to Loki.

No one has that sharp wit, that clever tongue that made even the most mundane conversations feel electric. No one carries themselves with that effortless grace, the confidence of a god who knows he’s meant for greatness but still chooses to share himself with you. No one looks at you the way Loki did, like you were a puzzle he was desperate to solve, a mystery he could never quite unravel.

And the worst part is, you know it’s unfair. You know these men deserve more than your half-hearted attempts at connection. But no matter how hard you try, you can’t stop measuring them against him.

One evening, your closest friend pulls you aside after another failed attempt at setting you up. “You’re not giving them a chance,” she says gently, her concern evident.

“I am,” you argue, but even as the words leave your mouth, you know they’re not entirely true.

She sighs, placing a comforting hand on your arm. “I know it’s hard. I know you miss him. But you deserve to be happy, too. He’s not coming back, and holding onto him like this… it’s only hurting you.”

Her words cut deeper than you expect, and you find yourself blinking back tears. She’s right, of course. Loki isn’t coming back. The man you loved is gone, and the person he’s become is far beyond your reach.

But how do you let go of someone who’s etched into your soul? How do you move on when every part of you still aches for him?

“I’ll try,” you whisper, though you’re not sure if it’s a promise you can keep.

Your friend nods, giving your arm a reassuring squeeze. “That’s all anyone can ask.”

But as the night goes on, as the world moves around you, you find yourself retreating into your thoughts, into the memories of a man who can never truly be replaced.

And in the quiet corners of your heart, you know the truth: no one will ever compare.

The apartment feels colder than it should, the kind of chill that creeps into your bones and refuses to let go. You sit curled up on the couch, staring at the flickering glow of the television, though you’re not really watching it. The sound is just there to fill the silence, to keep the walls from closing in.

But it doesn’t work. Not really.

Because even in the noise, you can hear his voice.

It starts small, the whispers of his tone weaving into the spaces between your thoughts. At first, you think it’s your imagination. Of course it is. Loki isn’t here. He’s not coming back. You’ve told yourself this a thousand times, clinging to the words like a mantra.

And yet…

The scent of leather and the faint trace of cedar linger in the air. The couch dips slightly beside you, a barely-there weight, but enough to make you glance to your right.

He’s there. Sitting casually with one arm draped over the back of the couch, his long legs crossed, and that infuriatingly familiar smirk playing at his lips.

“Miss me, darling?” he asks, his voice smooth and teasing, as if he hasn’t been gone for months. As if you hadn’t been tearing yourself apart trying to forget him.

Your heart lurches, and for a moment, you let yourself believe it’s real. You can’t help it. The sight of him is so vivid, so perfect. The sharp angle of his jaw, the glint of mischief in his green eyes — it’s exactly how you remember.

“Loki…” The name slips from your lips before you can stop it, a mixture of disbelief and yearning.

He tilts his head, his expression softening. “Yes, my love?”

The words hit you like a wave, the tenderness in his tone unraveling you completely. Your vision blurs with tears, and you reach out, your hand trembling as it moves toward him. But the moment your fingers brush the air where his hand should be, the illusion shatters.

He’s gone.

The couch is empty. The room is still. The silence is deafening.

You pull your hand back slowly, your chest heaving as you struggle to catch your breath. “No,” you whisper to yourself, shaking your head. “No, no, no.”

Your voice breaks, the sound foreign to your ears. You clutch at the blanket draped over your lap, holding it tightly as if it could anchor you to reality. But it doesn’t. Nothing does.

“Why are you doing this to me?” you murmur into the empty room, your voice raw with anger and grief. “Why can’t I let you go?”

There’s no answer, of course. Just the echo of your own voice bouncing off the walls. But that doesn’t stop you from talking. It’s becoming a habit now, these conversations with no one.

Some nights, you sit at the dining table, setting out two glasses of wine even though you know the second will remain untouched. You’ll tell stories about your day, laughing softly at jokes that only you can hear. You’ll look toward the chair opposite you, expecting to see him lounging there, his sharp wit ready to match yours.

And some nights, like tonight, you’ll sit on the couch and swear you can feel him beside you.

“Loki,” you whisper again, the name tasting like salt on your tongue. “Why did you leave me?”

The apartment remains silent, but in your mind, you can hear his response. You can hear him apologizing, explaining that it wasn’t his choice, that becoming the God of Stories meant giving up everything he loved.

But it’s a lie. A lie you tell yourself to make the ache in your chest bearable. Because deep down, you know the truth: he could have stayed. He could have chosen you.

And yet, he didn’t.

The illusions get worse as the weeks pass.

At first, they’re fleeting — a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye, a phantom touch brushing against your shoulder. But soon, they’re more vivid. More real.

You’ll hear his voice calling your name, soft and intimate, like he’s standing right behind you. You’ll turn around, your heart leaping with hope, only to find nothing but empty air.

And then there are the nights when you swear you feel his arms around you, holding you close as you drift off to sleep. Those nights are the worst, because when you wake up, the loneliness is suffocating.

Your friends notice the change in you, though you try to hide it. They don’t understand. How could they? They never knew him the way you did. They never loved him the way you do.

“You’re spiraling,” one of them says gently, her voice laced with concern. “You need help, Y/N. This… this isn’t normal.”

You nod, pretending to agree, but you don’t believe her. How could you need help when the only thing keeping you sane is the thought of him? When the illusions are the only moments you feel whole again?

One evening, you sit on the floor of your living room, surrounded by the box of Loki’s things you couldn’t bring yourself to burn. You pull out the scarf, holding it close to your chest as tears spill down your cheeks.

“I can’t do this without you,” you whisper into the fabric, your voice shaking. “I don’t know how.”

The room feels colder than ever, but as you close your eyes, you imagine his warmth enveloping you. You imagine him kneeling beside you, his hand brushing your hair back as he murmurs reassurances in that velvety voice.

But when you open your eyes, you’re still alone. And the scarf in your hands feels unbearably heavy.

You clutch it tighter, rocking slightly as the weight of your grief crashes over you. The world outside continues on, indifferent to your pain, but in this moment, all you can feel is the absence of him.

It’s a pain that no one else can understand, a loss that no one else can ease. And as the illusions pull you deeper into their grasp, you can’t help but wonder if letting go of him is even possible — or if you’re destined to carry this ache forever.

The dream begins the same way every time.

You’re standing in a golden field, the tall grass swaying gently in a breeze that carries the faintest scent of lavender. The sky above is painted in soft hues of orange and pink, a perpetual sunset that feels both warm and surreal. And there he is, waiting for you.

Loki.

He’s standing a few paces away, his silhouette sharp against the dreamy backdrop. His dark hair is tousled just so, and when he sees you, that familiar, crooked smile lights up his face. He opens his arms, and you run to him, your heart soaring in a way it hasn’t in what feels like forever.

In your dreams, there are no goodbyes, no insurmountable barriers. Here, you are just two people who love each other, untouched by the weight of reality.

“Missed me, darling?” he asks, his voice teasing yet warm as he pulls you into his arms.

“Always,” you murmur, burying your face in his chest. His scent surrounds you — leather and cedar, with a hint of something uniquely him. It’s intoxicating, grounding, and you never want to let go.

The dreams are your sanctuary, the only place where the ache in your chest quiets, where you feel whole again. You wake up every morning wishing you could stay there forever. And slowly, without realizing it, you begin to chase that feeling.

At first, it’s subtle. You let yourself sleep a little longer each morning, lingering in bed even as the sunlight streams through your window. Then you start skipping plans with your friends, feigning exhaustion or sickness so you can curl back under the covers.

The more time you spend in your dreams, the less you care about the waking world. Food becomes an afterthought, meals skipped in favor of lying in bed, hoping to drift off again. Even your appearance begins to change — your cheeks hollowing, your skin growing pale. But you hardly notice. All that matters is Loki.

Your friends notice the change in you long before you do.

“You’ve barely eaten,” one of them points out during a rare outing, her eyes scanning your face with obvious concern. “You’re so thin, Y/N. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you reply automatically, forcing a smile. But your voice lacks conviction, and you can tell she doesn’t believe you.

“You don’t look fine.” Her tone softens, but there’s a firmness beneath it. “We’re worried about you. You’ve been isolating yourself, skipping meals, avoiding everyone…”

“I’m just tired,” you say, cutting her off. “That’s all.”

The words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken truths. You can see the worry etched into her features, but you’re too far gone to care. You’re tired of the concern, the pity, the endless attempts to pull you out of the darkness when all you want is to stay there, wrapped in the illusion of Loki’s presence.

One night, your friend shows up at your apartment unannounced. The moment she steps inside, she freezes, her eyes widening as she takes in the state of the place.

It’s a mess. Dishes piled in the sink, unopened mail scattered across the counter, curtains drawn tightly to keep out the daylight. And there you are, curled up on the couch in a hoodie that hangs off your frame, your eyes hollow and distant.

“Y/N,” she breathes, her voice breaking.

You barely look at her, your gaze fixed on the floor.

She sits down beside you, reaching for your hand. “You’re not okay,” she says, her voice trembling. “Please, let us help you.”

“I don’t need help,” you whisper, but even as you say it, tears spill down your cheeks.

“Yes, you do,” she insists, squeezing your hand. “You’ve been shutting us out, and it’s killing you. You’re wasting away, Y/N. I don’t know what’s going on, but you don’t have to face it alone.”

Her words pierce through the fog in your mind, and for a moment, you consider telling her the truth. Telling her about the dreams, about Loki, about the impossible grief that has consumed you. But the thought of saying it out loud feels like admitting he’s truly gone.

“I just need to sleep,” you say instead, pulling your hand away.

Her eyes fill with tears, but she doesn’t press you further. She stands, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “I can’t force you to let us in,” she says softly. “But I’m not giving up on you.”

After she leaves, you crawl back into bed, pulling the covers over your head. The dreams are waiting for you, and that’s all that matters.

But even the dreams begin to shift.

The golden fields grow dimmer, the sunsets less vibrant. Loki’s voice, once so warm and reassuring, takes on a melancholy edge. He holds you close, but there’s a sadness in his eyes that wasn’t there before.

“Why are you doing this to yourself?” he asks one night, his voice soft but filled with anguish.

“What do you mean?” you reply, confused.

“You’re losing yourself,” he says, his hands cradling your face. “This isn’t what I wanted for you.”

Tears stream down your cheeks as you shake your head. “I don’t care,” you whisper. “I just want to be with you.”

Loki’s expression breaks, his own tears shimmering in his eyes. “But at what cost, my love? You’re fading away.”

The dream dissolves into darkness, leaving you gasping as you wake up. For the first time, the comfort of sleep feels like a betrayal, a reminder of how deeply you’ve sunk into the illusion.

And yet, the waking world offers no solace. You lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, your heart aching with the weight of it all.

Because no matter where you are — asleep or awake — the pain remains. And you don’t know how to escape it.

It’s late afternoon when your friend arrives at your apartment, a determined look on her face as she steps inside. She doesn’t bother to hide her shock at the state of you. You’re sitting on the couch, knees pulled to your chest, staring blankly at the television. Your hoodie hangs loosely on your frail frame, and your skin is pale, almost translucent under the dim lighting.

“Y/N,” she begins, closing the door behind her and walking toward you. There’s no judgment in her tone, only a desperate kind of concern. “I’ve been doing some research… and I think I found something that could help.”

You glance at her, your expression unreadable. “Help?”

“Yes.” She sits down beside you, her movements careful, as though she’s afraid you might shatter. “It’s… unconventional, but it’s worth considering.”

From her bag, she pulls out a pamphlet and places it on the coffee table. The bold lettering on the front reads: The Haven Institute: A New Beginning.

You eye it warily, your stomach twisting with unease. “What is this?”

She hesitates, then takes a deep breath. “It’s a clinic. They specialize in memory modification. They… they can help you forget him.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, you can’t breathe. Forget him? The idea is so foreign, so unimaginable, that it feels like an affront to everything you’ve been holding onto.

“No,” you say quickly, your voice trembling. “Absolutely not.”

“Y/N, please just listen—”

“No!” You push yourself up from the couch, pacing the room with frantic energy. “I can’t. I won’t. He’s all I have left. If I forget him, then what? What’s left of me?”

Tears fill your friend’s eyes, but she doesn’t back down. “What’s left of you now?” she asks softly, her voice breaking. “Look at yourself, Y/N. You’re not living. You’re barely surviving. This… this isn’t what he would want for you.”

Her words strike a chord, but you shake your head, unwilling to let them sink in.

“I can’t,” you whisper, your voice cracking. “I can’t lose him again.”

That night, you dream of Loki again. But this time, the dream isn’t a golden field or a serene sunset. It’s your apartment, dimly lit and suffocatingly quiet.

He’s sitting across from you, his posture relaxed but his expression serious. There’s a weight to his gaze, a sadness that mirrors your own.

“You know she’s right,” he says, his voice gentle but firm.

You shake your head, tears streaming down your face. “No. Don’t say that. Don’t you dare say that.”

Loki leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he studies you. “Do you think this is what I want for you? To see you like this, wasting away, consumed by grief?”

“I’m not wasting away,” you argue, but your voice lacks conviction.

He tilts his head, his expression softening. “Aren’t you? Look at yourself, darling. You’re a shadow of the person I fell in love with. And it’s my fault. I see that now.”

“No,” you choke out, clutching at the fabric of your hoodie. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I’m the one who can’t let go.”

“And that’s why you need to let me go,” he says, his voice breaking. “Not because you don’t love me, but because you do. Because holding onto me is killing you.”

You collapse onto the floor, sobbing into your hands as the weight of his words crashes over you. “I don’t know how,” you whisper. “I don’t know how to let you go.”

Loki kneels beside you, his hands cupping your face as he looks into your eyes. “You can,” he says firmly. “You’re stronger than you think. And if erasing me is the only way to save you… then so be it.”

The dream begins to fade, his voice lingering in your mind even as the golden light dissolves into darkness.

You wake up gasping, tears soaking your pillow. The words from your dream replay over and over in your head, like a mantra you can’t escape: You need to let me go.

For the first time, you take a long, hard look at yourself. You walk to the bathroom and flick on the light, wincing at the reflection staring back at you. Your cheeks are hollow, your eyes dull, your once-vibrant presence reduced to a frail shadow.

Your hand trembles as you press it against the mirror, your breath fogging the glass. This isn’t you. This isn’t the person you used to be.

And Loki — whether he’s a dream, an illusion, or a memory too stubborn to fade — is right. You’ve let your grief consume you, and if you don’t do something soon, there won’t be anything left to save.

The next morning, you call your friend.

“I’ll do it,” you say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll go to the clinic.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the line, and when she speaks, her voice is thick with emotion. “Are you sure?”

“No,” you admit. “But I can’t keep living like this.”

Your friend comes over that afternoon, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you let her hold you as you cry. It’s a small step, but it’s a step nonetheless.

The pamphlet sits on the coffee table, a reminder of what’s to come. And as you stare at it, a part of you wonders if this is the right choice — if erasing Loki from your mind will truly set you free, or if it will only leave another kind of emptiness in its place.

But for now, you cling to the hope that it might bring you peace. That maybe you can find a way to start over.

The clinic is sterile, unnervingly clean, and entirely too quiet. The hum of the fluorescent lights overhead sets your teeth on edge as you sit in the waiting area, clutching the scarf in your lap like a lifeline. It still smells faintly of him, though the scent is fading. You know it’s your imagination more than anything else, but you don’t care. It’s all you have left.

The receptionist calls your name, and you stand, legs trembling as you follow her down a long corridor. Your friend is waiting outside in the car, insisting she couldn’t bear to come in. You told her you’d be fine, but now, as the door to the consultation room closes behind you, you’re not so sure.

The doctor is kind, their voice calm and reassuring as they explain the procedure once again. You listen, nodding at the appropriate times, but your mind is elsewhere — lost in the memories you’re about to give up.

“Do you have the belongings?” the doctor asks gently, gesturing to the small box you’ve brought with you.

You nod, setting it on the table with shaking hands. Inside are the remnants of your life with Loki: a book he loved to read aloud from, a pair of cufflinks he’d left on your dresser, and the scarf you’ve been holding onto for dear life.

The doctor notices your grip on the scarf and tilts their head. “You don’t have to let go of everything,” they say, their tone encouraging. “We can modify the memory tied to an object if you’d prefer to keep it.”

You glance down at the soft fabric, your fingers tracing the intricate weave. The thought of losing this piece of him entirely feels unbearable, but the idea of it being tied to him — tied to your grief — is equally suffocating.

“Can you… can you change the memory?” you ask hesitantly. “Make it something else?”

The doctor nods. “Of course. What would you like it to mean?”

You think for a moment, your mind swirling with possibilities. Finally, you settle on something simple, something that feels safe. “A lucky charm,” you say quietly. “It’s a scarf I’ve had for years, and I keep it for good luck.”

The doctor smiles gently. “We can do that.”

Before the procedure, they give you a moment alone to say goodbye — not to the belongings, but to the memories themselves.

You sit on the chair in the dimly lit room, the scarf draped across your lap. The illusion of Loki appears before you, as vivid as ever, his expression unreadable.

“So, this is it,” he says softly, his voice tinged with sadness.

You nod, tears welling in your eyes. “I guess it is.”

Loki steps closer, his gaze searching yours. “Are you sure this is what you want, my love?”

“I don’t want it,” you admit, your voice trembling. “But I need it. I need to move on. And I can’t… not like this.”

He reaches out, his fingers ghosting over your cheek, though you can’t feel his touch. “You’ve always been stronger than you know,” he murmurs. “Stronger than me, even.”

You let out a shaky laugh, fresh tears spilling over. “That’s not true.”

“It is,” he insists, his eyes glinting with that familiar intensity. “And now, you’ll prove it.”

For a moment, neither of you speaks. You simply look at him, memorizing every detail of his face, every nuance of his expression.

“Goodbye, Loki,” you whisper, your voice breaking.

His smile is soft, bittersweet. “Goodbye, my love.”

He fades slowly, the edges of his figure dissolving into the air until there’s nothing left but an empty room.

The doctor guides you into the operating chair, the soft hum of machinery filling the space. They place a device over your temples, adjusting the settings as they explain what to expect. You barely hear them, your mind still caught in the aftershocks of saying goodbye.

“This will be painless,” the doctor says gently. “You may experience flashes of the memories as they’re removed, but it will be quick.”

You nod, gripping the scarf tightly.

The machine begins to whir, and the first memory surfaces.

It’s the night you met him, his sharp wit and charming smile disarming you instantly. You remember the way he looked at you, like you were the only person in the room.

The memory dissolves, and another takes its place.

Loki teaching you magic, his laughter filling the room when you accidentally summon a puff of smoke instead of a flame. “We’ll make a sorceress of you yet,” he had said, pride gleaming in his eyes.

That memory fades, too, replaced by the time he held you under a canopy of stars, his voice a soft murmur as he told you stories of Asgard.

One by one, the memories play out, each one tugging at your heart until it feels like it might break entirely. But you let them go, because you have to.

The last memory is the hardest. It’s the day he left, his hand brushing against yours for the final time. You see the pain in his eyes, the love he couldn’t put into words, and it nearly undoes you.

“Be happy,” he had whispered, his voice cracking. “For both of us.”

As the memory fades, you feel a strange sense of peace. The pain is still there, but it’s muted now, distant.

When the procedure is over, the doctor removes the device and places the scarf in your hands. “It’s done,” they say gently.

You hold the scarf close, feeling its softness against your skin. It’s just a scarf now — a lucky charm, nothing more.

And as you leave the clinic, the weight on your chest feels a little lighter, the world a little brighter.

It’s not a perfect ending, but it’s a new beginning. And for now, that’s enough.

Life after the clinic is quieter, simpler.

You wake up each morning to sunlight streaming through your window, the warmth of it brushing your face. Your days are filled with routines now — a job you’ve rediscovered a passion for, weekend brunches with friends who are no longer burdened with worry over you, and quiet evenings spent reading or listening to music.

On the surface, everything seems fine. You smile more, laugh more. Your friends notice the change and comment on how much better you look. “It’s so good to have you back,” one of them says during a coffee date, her eyes brimming with relief.

You nod, sipping your latte, and try to believe her.

But there’s an ache in your chest that you can’t quite place. A dull, persistent tug that makes itself known when the world grows quiet — when you’re walking home alone in the evening or lying in bed just before sleep takes you. It’s not sharp or overwhelming, just… there. A void you can’t fill, no matter how hard you try.

Your apartment is different now. Cleaner, brighter. The curtains are drawn back to let in the sunlight, and the once-cluttered surfaces are neatly organized. You’ve even picked up a few plants, their green leaves adding life to the space.

And yet, sometimes, when you walk into the living room, you pause, your eyes lingering on the empty chair by the window. For a moment, you feel like something — or someone — should be there. But the thought slips away as quickly as it comes, leaving you puzzled but not overly concerned.

The scarf has become a part of your everyday life. You wear it on days when you need a little extra confidence, its soft fabric a comforting weight around your neck. It’s your lucky charm, though you can’t quite remember where you got it or why it feels so important.

One afternoon, as you’re folding laundry, you find yourself holding the scarf a little longer than necessary. A strange, bittersweet feeling washes over you, like you’re on the verge of remembering something — or someone — just out of reach.

You shake it off, folding the scarf neatly and tucking it away in your drawer.

Dreams come to you occasionally, hazy and fragmented. They’re filled with flashes of green and gold, the sound of laughter you can’t place, and the sensation of strong arms wrapping around you.

You wake from these dreams with a strange mixture of comfort and longing, your heart aching for something — or someone — you can’t name. But the feeling fades as the day goes on, replaced by the mundanity of everyday life.

One evening, as you’re walking home from work, a sudden gust of wind whips through the street, tugging at your scarf. You clutch it tightly, a shiver running down your spine despite the warmth of your coat.

For a brief moment, you feel as though you’re being watched, as though someone is standing just behind you, their presence familiar and reassuring. You turn quickly, your eyes scanning the empty street, but there’s no one there.

You laugh at yourself, shaking your head as you continue walking. But the feeling lingers, a warmth in your chest that stays with you for the rest of the night.

Time passes, and the ache in your heart becomes easier to ignore. You focus on the present, on the life you’ve rebuilt. You’re content, if not entirely happy.

But every now and then, when the world grows quiet, you find yourself staring into the distance, your fingers brushing absentmindedly over the scarf around your neck.

You don’t know what it is you’re searching for.

And maybe you never will.

ah yes, the angst! I love it, I've been crying for the last 2k words lol

[norman-fucking-reedus]

Hey 👋🏽!!,

I just want to stop by and say I absolutely love your fics, you capture Daryl so well😍. I was wondering if you could write something where Norman stops by his restaurant in Senoia for a quick meeting and sees the hot new waitress working there and it's lust at first sight🥵😈 .. He has to have her.. They meet up after her shift takes her back to his home and c o m p l e t e l y ruins her 🥴🫠: Blowjob & swallow, NORMAN WHIMPERING 😩🤌🏽 as reader sucks him off, deep fingering, face sitting & squirt, eating out tongue fuck!ng, ROUGH doggie style with a sloppy creampie breeding kink ending 😮‍💨 WHEW LAWD😶‍🌫️🫣, I hope this isn't too off the rails for you 🙃 Below is an aesthetic of what I want female reader and Norman to look like

"The New Girl"

Please and thank you 🙏🏾 🤭

GIRL. OMFG. THE WAY YOU DID NOT HOLD BACK AT ALL?? LITERALLY CURLING MY TOES PULLING MY HAIR KNAWING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE

I’m actually really scared because this is gonna be my first time ever writing for Norman, or an actor in general, and I’m just nervous for this to come out like super corny or I write him super out of character and it’s like your average fangirl fanfic but tbh we’re just gonna close our eyes, spin around in circles and god willing nothing bad happens

The reader is black, obvs, but it’s written in a way where everyone can still enjoy and squeeze their thighs together, you’ll just be one of us in this story 🎀

Also how did I not know Norman had a restaurant… three actually…

This definitely has a word count of atleast 4k my phone actually started to slow down everytime I opened this

@blackvelveteen1339 I hope I did you justice cause holy fucking hell this was the hottest request EVER ❤️❤️

THE NEW GIRL

“Are ya' impressed yet?”

Everyone knows that moving to another place will always be the hardest feature in life, let alone moving to a whole new city in a whole different state.

Senoia was absolutely stunning, with breathtaking views and beach perfect weather. It was totally everything that you had hoped it would be, and so was your little studio apartment, which wasn’t bad at all considering the cozy size, not to mention there were quite a few stores around, also well as the infamous main street.

You sighed, a twinge of sadness. At almost twenty-seven, this would be your first time ever living alone, having lived with your parents for a huge chunk of your life. You were still young and wanted to go out into the big world on your own, and for the longest Georgia had been calling out your name.

Some of your friends and family had discouraged you from going, claiming that it was ridiculous to move so far away from home so carelessly. For a minute, you had even thought so yourself, repeating it over and over again in your head that it wasn’t worth it, or that it was just a dumb dream, and you didn’t even have a path in mind. It was a reckless thing to do, to go into a whole new state with no clue on what you wanted to do with yourself, let alone who you wanted to be.

Yet, here you sat in your new apartment, with nothing but a suitcase, duffel bag and mattress to your name, yes, happier than you’ve ever been but lonely as well. You check your phone, swiping through your notifications before unlocking it, and opening your Instagram.

You had always been a quiet and reserved person with a bit of a wild side, which you kept hidden very well under wraps. Your feed consisted of hair tips, food, traveling, and a little heat. You followed a couple of influencers, mostly your favorite music artists, and actors. There were lots of concerts happening in Atlanta, which you found wasn't far away from Senoia at all. You'd always wanted to see some of your faves in person, but none of them had ever come out to where you used to live. Not to mention, it was expensive. Speaking of expensive, you realized that you would need to start looking for a job sooner or later if you wanted to keep your studio.

Luckily you had enough to pay rent for at least the next few months, however, groceries were quite pricey these days. You huffed and glanced over to your suitcase to where it remained unpacked in the corner, clothes spilling out of it from where you had been carelessly digging through it. You had only been in Georgia for a few weeks, and hadn't really left to go anywhere. By the looks from what you could see out the window, it was an undeniably nice day, and job opportunities were always fluttering around. You decided that it was finally time to get your shit together and show Senoia what kind of girl you really were.

Swinging off your makeshift bed, you rose to your feet, grimacing slightly and groaning softly as you stretched and walked over towards the bathroom, frowning at the tangled mess that was your hair once you stood in front of the mirror. There were also a few stains on your shirt. Yeah, a shower was definitely needed. You twisted the handle to the middle and allowed the water to heat up, padding over to your messy suitcase.

There were a couple of hangers in the closet but that was about it. Luckily there were also shelves built in which would have to do for now. You were probably going to need a small list of things, hangers being priority number one.

Going through the suitcase, you had your everyday clothes, some old work clothes, and few clubbing clothes. Your duffel bag contained your personable items, as well as a couple of important documents and paperwork for the apartment. You had already moved all your hygienic stuff into the bathroom, and decided to stress about putting away your clothes later, focusing on what you would actually wear out.

You wanted it to be a mix between comfortable yet classy, classy yet also sexy. A simple and lowcut long-sleeve matched with a pair of bootcut jeans that you could easily jazz up with some jewelry and a cute hairstyle. Draping the outfit over your bed, you began to rid yourself of your clothes, fishing a towel as well as a bra and pair of panties out of your duffel bag, and stacking them together on the bathroom counter. You played music off your phone out loud and made a mental note to also buy a speaker, letting out a satisfied groan as you stepped under the hot spray from the shower head.

The water ran down the length of your body from where it soaked in your curly hair, eyes fluttering shut as droplets began rolling down your face. It felt incredible to have days worth of bedrotting be finally washed down the drain. You wiped the water out your eyes and wringed it out your hair, reaching for the shampoo bottle and twisting the cap off, dumping a handful of the liquid into your palm. You smeared it from the top of your head, carrying it down to your ends, beginning to thoroughly scrub your way back up to your scalp, where you worked the soap into the strands.

Once your hair was completely coated and covered in suds, you rinsed the excess from your hands and grabbed your body wash to start cleaning yourself up as you let the shampoo soak into your hair. You drizzled a generous amount onto the sponge amd ran it under the hot water, rubbing it together in your hands to create the foamy bubbles. You began to work your way up one arm, scrubbing the skin as you went over your shoulder and underneath your arm, moving over across your collarbone to the other arm, eventually working down the length of your chest, as well as legs.

You squeezed the remaining soap out from the sponge, hanging it back in its spot as you started to rinse off your body, leaned your head back and wringing the sudsy water out your hair, hands working to wash all the shampoo out the coily strands. Not that you were in a rush, but it did take a little time, an ache beginning to form in your arms by the time you were done. Pumping a generous amount of conditioner into your hand, you worked it into your scalp with the tips of your fingers and rubbed it into the rest of the strands, clipping it back once there was no more left in your hands.

This time you shaved your legs, cause lord knows it’s been a minute since you’ve done that. In the process of shaving them, you noticed that your bikini area could also use some razor work.

It had been a little while since you had needed any reason to shave down there, but now that you were in a new environment with new faces, you never knew what you might stumble across. The men back in your hometown were okay, but you held your hopes up high that Senoia would toss something totally unexpected your way.

Once you were bare and smooth, you washed away the hair caught in your razor and unclipped your curly hair, rinsing off the clip before your hair, humming at how soft the strands felt under the stream of water. You squeezed and wrung out the conditioner, hearing the days of neglect run down the drain. When it was all out, you gave your body one last thorough scrub, properly washing off your skin from head to toe before shutting off the water and grabbing your towel.

You sighed as you patted your face dry, moving down your neck and chest. As you dried your hair, you stood in front of the mirror, lazily singing along to the current song playing and striking a few poses in your nude form. Although you did have a few insecurities, ones that sprouted from your late teen years and hadn't really left in your adult years, you preferred to just focus on the parts of yourself that you really liked.

It was still fairly early as you rechecked your phone, dropping the towel down on the ground and slipping on your panties, clasping your bra on shortly after. You grabbed your toothbrush and squeezed almost a little too much paste onto the bristles, giving it some water before scrubbing your teeth, mindlessly walking around your apartment as you did. The main street below your window was still bustling with cars and filled with people spilling out of shops, and music thumping from the lively restaurants. There was a nearby park that was full of squealing children, as well as other people from the community and neighboring apartment complexes. All of it was much different than what you had grown accustomed to back home, but it was such a nice change of scenery all at the same time, and you couldn't wait to throw yourself out onto Senoia's street.

Back in your little bathroom, you flicked the sink faucet on and spit the gathered foam out, filling your mouth with water and swishing it around for a little, spitting it out as well. You also brushed your tongue before taking in another mouthful of water, washing out the remaining toothpaste from your brush before dropping it back in its cup, shutting the sink off, and wiping your mouth dry. Taking a deep, but quick grounding breath, you moved to put your clothes on, hiking your fairly tight jeans up before slipping on your top. Even though it was plain black, it had a cute set of flared sleeves.

You dug through your bag for your box of jewelry as well as your makeup, setting both down heavily on the counter as you stared at your hair in the mirror, huffing in annoyance as you started to wonder if you needed to style it. Maybe a half-up half-down look? No, a full ponytail would be better. But a high bun would also be cute... or maybe a half-bun. Maybe bald. Bald would be best.

You mentally kick yourself as you flip the lid to your makeup box open to distract yourself from your hairstyle dilemma. You reassured yourself that you'd figure out something by the time you were fully ready, sighing as you prepped your face. The only times you ever really used makeup was when you were going out with intent, and wanted to make sure that your face stood out to any potential victims. It didn't take long to do as you pointedly and skillfully brushed sharp and soft lines over your honey skin, keeping your hand as steady as your body would allow you.

A few swipes of liner and mascara later, glossy lips, and the front of your hair parted to the side, you were clipping on a silver necklace paired with a bracelet, and a dangly pair of earrings. It was a bit simple, so you decided to layer another necklace on top of the other, smiling at yourself in the mirror before flipping the lights off, padding out into the bedroom, and fishing around for your purse, placing it on the bed next to you as you slid on a pair of wedged sandals. Hopefully, the foot pain later would be worth it.

You slipped your phone into your back pocket, and threw your purse onto your shoulder, tossing in a small bottle of perfume just in case. You shut the doors inside and flicked off the main room light, creaking your front door open and securely shutting it behind you, locking it with your keys before tossing them into your purse, striding down the hallway of your complex with intention hot in your steps.

When you pushed the door of your building open, the warm and inviting air of Senoia almost immediately filling your lungs, you felt a strong sense of anticipation surge through you as you walked out onto the sidewalk, the sounds of conversations now real and more animated than ever, the thumping of music now bumped through your feet and right in your chest.

As you casually strolled down the sidewalk, taking in all the different buildings and things to do, a furniture store caught your eye. While you didn't have any money, it never hurt to look around, and maybe get some information from some of the locals.

The furniture store was filled with pieces on the much older side and vintage lamps that only old ladies would be interested in, but you continued to walk around anyway. As you were browsing a wall of intricate paintings and sculptures, a kind-looking woman approached you.

"Welcome to Hollberg's! Our newer, more modern stuff is upstairs if that's more your style" She smiled, and you gave a polite one in return. "I'm just browsing for now. Just moved here about a week ago and I don't have a job yet" You lightly laughed.

The woman gave you an excited expression, clasping her hands together. "How nice! Where are you from originally?"

"Louisiana, Chalmette. I lived there for most of my life so I just needed a fresh start somewhere totally new." You sigh, still kindly smiling at her.

"I get that, and Senoia is perfect for that, Georgia overall. Atlanta is also quite close, and there's lots of job opportunities out there."

You frown, "Unfortunately I don't have a car, and you can't Uber without money" Shaking your head at your obviously very sticky situation.

The woman seemed to think for a moment, walking quickly away to fetch something from behind a desk and coming back over, holding out a few pieces of paper. "We aren't hiring now, but here are some flyers for restaurants in this strip. Not sure how lucky you'll get, but I do wish you luck. There's a cafe right across the way" You took the flyers from her, smiling at her one last. "Thanks girl. Hopefully, next time we talk it's about furniture" She let out a small laugh, watching as you spun on your heels and walked out of the store.

On your way out, you almost immediately spotted the cafe and wasted no time walking over to it, quickly crossing the street while throwing a few quick glances to the left and right as you did. Before you entered, you slipped the restaurant flyers into your purse and swung the door open, the smell of coffee strong and a bit overwhelming. The cafe was quite large inside, and there was a small line at the registers at near front, nothing you weren't willing to stand in.

Once you reached the front, you were greeted by a young woman, smiling brightly at you. "Hi! Welcome to Senoia's Coffee and Cafe, what can I get started for you?"

"Sorry, I'm not looking to buy anything, I'm actually looking for work. I just moved here about a week ago" She made a small look of surprise, furrowing her brows as she mouthed 'one moment' and disappeared behind a wall, returning mere seconds later with a sheepish look replacing her previous one. "We, unfortunately, aren't hiring right now. I think my boss is in a bad mood, but I heard the restaurant down the street is hiring! Uh, just can't think of the name"

You fish out the flyers, "Any of these?" Holding them out to her. She tilts her head, humming quietly before tapping her finger against one. "This place! They need waitresses, especially around this time. You'd be a great fit there too" She smiled, and you smiled back, giving her a "Thanks" before walking back out of the shop, and down the sidewalk, eyeing a few of the other buildings before stopping in front of dark gray one, reading the sign before pulling the door open.

The inside of the restaurant was absolutely stunning, with clean floors, and light walls mixed with brick that complemented the expensive chandlers hanging from the ceiling, highlighted against the polished wooden furniture. There was casual jazz playing in back, loud enough to hear but loud enough to still be able to talk normally.

The restaurant was fairly small, a highly stocked bar on one side and the dining room on the other, bathrooms at the back. You weren't quite sure where to stand, awkwardly off to the side as you scanned the room for someone, feeling relieved when a woman spotted you and called that she would be right there. You watched as she cleaned a finished table, quickly walking the dirty dishes into the kitchen before coming back out, huffing when she reappeared.

"It's a lot of work, huh?" You asked kindly, and she sighed.

"Hell yes. I jus' wish I had one more set of hands" She laughed airily, tapping at something on her register. "Table fer one?"

You shook your head, "No, I'm actually here to work. Just moved here a week ago" Smiling softly at her.

She gave you a look of surprise, "Really? Where ya comin' from?"

"Chalmette in Louisiana. I just needed a different change of scenery, somewhere new where I can figure my shit out" She nodded her head at your words. "I hear that. Good fer ya' girl! Like I said, I need one more set of hands. Got any experience?"

"I worked in a sports bar for a good while back home, there wasn't really much to work with" You sighed. "I've never served tables but I was a host for a little bit"

She seemed pretty satisfied, nodding as you spoke with a smile tugging her lips. "Well, I'd say yer gonna make a pretty good damn waitress. How soon can ya' start?"

"I'd start today if you let me" You laugh lightly, and she makes a face. "I mean if you can bring me the papers I need within the hour I can get you a shift tonight"

You blinked at her, raising a brow. "Seriously?"

"I'll give ya' the uniform straight after, m'serious" She smiled, holding out her hand.

You took hers in yours with little hesitation, shaking it firmly. “I’ll be right back” Was all you said before walking out the restaurant, quickly and eagerly striding back over to your apartment building. It was maybe a five minute walk, which was not bad at all. As you entered, walking through the lobby and up the stairs, you dug in your purse for the keys to your studio, swinging them around your finger as you walked down the hallway on your floor.

Unlocking the door, you stepped inside and shut it, placing your purse on the counter and taking out the flyers, rushing over to your suit case and flipping it open, rummaging through. You grumbled as you began pulling stuff out, zipping open pockets and shaking the bag, about to freak out when the blue folder fell out. “Aha!”

You cracked it open, smiling when you confirmed the important papers such as your W2 as well as birth certificate. You rose to your feet and it in your purse, finish out your wallet to make sure you had your I.D as well as social security, tossing it back into the bag and sliding it back over your shoulder, setting out your house once again to go get your new job.

You felt a small amount of anxiety boiling in your stomach as the sun started to set, the main street of Senoia, only get louder and louder, even through your shut window. Your eyes flickered down to your pressed uniform, sharply exhaling as you checked the time on your phone and unlocked it, rereading the schedule over and over again. It was about five-thirty, and you needed to be there at six.

Hooking your phone up to get some more charge as you stripped out your regular clothed and into your work ones, humming pleasantly as you looked the mirror. The shirt was tight but loose fit, and the pants covered your ankles. It was an all black uniform, ‘Nic & Norman’s’ in the left corner embroidered in white.

To keep your hair out the way, but still stylish, you tied it back into two high and curly space buns. You decided to go for a simple cat eye liner look, sticking on a pair of lashes instead of mascara this time. A few quick swipes of a rose pink gloss, and a couple spritz’s of your most expensive perfume, you were done and ready to go.

As you slipped a pair of black tennis shoes on, you still had a lingering feeling of nerves in your tummy. This wasn’t your first job obviously, but this was you first waitress job. The woman you had spoken too, who’s name you learned was Tyler, reassured you that you were a perfect fit.

Standing in the mirror one last time, you gave yourself a good look over to make sure you looked professional and presentable, hopefully also tippable.

You tossed your purse over your shoulder, and draped a sweater over yourself, flipping off all the lights and shutting the front door behind you, locking it and stuffing your keys inside.

Just as you expected, the air was brisk and much cooler than it had been when the sun was still high in the sky, night falling over the streets and Senoia’s street lighting itself up, restaurants now more alive than ever. As you walked with a small crowd, you observed how almost everyone was now dressed in more proper attire, nicely ironed suits paired to modestly short dresses.

The outside seating of Nic & Norman’s was already packed full when you arrived, swinging the door open to find the inside seats equally as stuffed. You felt your nerves soaring this time, and tried not to awkwardly duck your head down as you walked into the kitchen, feeling like a foreigner.

“Y/n! Thank fuck!” Tyler gasped from behind you, making you jump slightly. “I’ve got salads and burgers wedged so far up m’fuckin’ ass” She grumbled, grabbing you by thw wrist and pulling you quickly through the clamoring kitchen into a back office.

She dropped down onto a seat, sighing heavily. “Is it like this every night?” You asked, a little more scared then you should be.

“Sometimes. If m’not mistaken, one of the owners should be coming tomorrow. Boy do I sure hope it’s Norman” Tyler sighed, dreamily at the end. She stared off into space with a small smile, and you looked around the room, looking at the overflowing cubbies. “Shit sucks. Ya’ can stick yer stuff with mine” She spoke, snapped out her trance and pointing at a pile a good distance away from the rest. “It’s okay. People know not ta’ fuck with m’shit” Tyler added when she saw the wary look on your face.

“So, who exactly is ‘Nic and Norman’?” You question, and Tyler’s mouth drops.

“You don’t know who Greg Nicotero and Norman Reedus are?” You shook your head, brows furrowed in pure confusion. Maybe you did know them, you just never were very big on putting faces to names.

Tyler whipped out her phone, but frowned. “Shit girl, forgot we had a job ta’ be doin’. Don’ even stress. Ya’ look real good. Shirt fits ya’ good too. Yer gon be loaded up with tips, ‘nd m’sure ya’ can handle tha’ creeps” She rose to her feet, checking her own makeup in the camera lense of her phone before pocketing it. “And don’ try ta’ be fuckin’ superman and carry thirty plates at a time. Pro-tip, learn some Tetris” Tyler swiped a new layer of gloss on her lips, and tossed it into her pocket, pulling you back through the busy kitchen.

“Luckily they print tha’ table number tha’ food is fer on tha’ ticket, so tha’ chef’s started ta’ put tickets with plates, so when ya come here, just find yer table” She explained quickly yet simply, each word she spoke going in one ear and echoing in the other, turning themselves on loop.

Tyler poked her head out the kitchen, looking around before she beckoned someone over. A young man came jogging over, and she pulled him inside by his shirt. Damn if she didn’t play around.

“This is Javi, one of our hosts tonigh’.” Tyler gestured to his with her hands, and he waved politely. “Javi is gon’ show ya’ yer table section. From this point on, m’gon be nothin’ but a blur ta’ ya” She placed a hand on your shoulder, smiling at you before turning and picking up the plates from earlier, easily balancing them on her arms and kicking open the kitchen door, out onto the floor.

A awkward moment of silence passed between you and the young man, not really quiet, but there were no words spoken as he swiped through something on an iPad, brows slightly furrowed. “You’re um, you’re y/n right?” He mumbled, and you nodded.

Javi motioned for you to follow him with his head, and he led you out into the loud dining area, bringing you over towards the bar. “See those four tables there?” He pointed, and you had to follow his finger, nodding when you spotted the four booths he was pointing to. “All yours. They can hold up to like ten people, so good luck.” You grimaced at that, feeling your stomach do flips.

“Here. Can’t be a waitress without your notepad. Or a pen” Javi joked, and you smiled kindly at him, thanking him. As you did, a new wave of people entered, prompting Javi to go over and get them situated. You watched as he seated the new guests, and pulled a group waiting from the lobby, grabbing their menus and leading them over to your section.

He came back over, mouthing ‘all yours’ before disappearing into the kitchen.

You took a few, shaky and deep breaths, before putting on your friendliest face and approaching the table.

Luckily, it was just a simple family, mom and dad with their two kids who seemed to be well over the age of ten. You greeted them with a kind smile, “Welcome to Nic & Norman’s, my name is Y/n and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I get you started on any drinks?” You clicked your pen, pressing it into the pad of paper.

The mother smiled back at you, “You guys sure are busy! I bet it’s always exciting when they come to town, huh?” She glanced back at her menu, acting as if she hadn’t left you totally clueless.

“Yeah. It’s only my first day here so I’m a little nervous” You confess, brushing off her earlier statement. “Gosh! Well, guess we’re testing you now!” She laughed, and you laughed as well, only a tad unnerved. “I think I’ll just do a simple cocktail” You nodded, writing down at the top of the pad. Her son ordered a strawberry lemonade, her daughter a soda, and her dad a beer.

“I’ll have those right out for you guys” You clicked your pen once again, and quickly walked away, retreating back into the kitchen.

You pushed the doors open, but frowned at the loud clamoring and multiple orders being shuffled out. No way in hell would your drinks be done in a reasonable time. You exited out the kitchen, glancing around when you had a lightbulb moment.

“Psst, hey muscle man” You called to the bartender, leaning against the counter. “Think you could make these real fast?” You held out the drink ticket, wiggling it as you flirtatiously smiled and batted your lashes.

He stammered for a second, “muscle man?” glancing down at himself and feeling a heat rise to his cheeks. What could you say? You knew a strong man when you saw one.

You kept your hand outstretched, motioning for him to take it.

“Do I even know you?” He raised a brow, and you shook your head. “Nope. But you should do it anyways” You smile, and he frowns, taking the paper from your hand. You spot Javi leaving your section, throwing you a glance and a thumbs up, and you tap the bartop. “I’m counting on you, Hercules”

You approach your second table, and feel a hint of annoyance surge through you as you discover it’s a group of men. Very loud ones at that. You put on your best fakest smile, clicking your pen against your leg as you spoke. “Welcome to Nic & Norman’s, my name is Y/n and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I get a round of drinks going for you gentlemen?”

One of the men whistled, “Well ain’t you just somethin’ pretty to look at” letting out a very country laugh.

A few of the other men let out laughs, and you simply smiled, more of ‘I wish I was off the clock so I could rock you’ smile, but still a smile. “Yeah. I’m also here to get you guys something to drink” You joked, knowing men tipped more when you gave into their antics.

"Let the woman do her job, Bill" Another man said to him, nudging him with his arm and he swatted them away. You tapped your pen against the paper, trying not to hurt one of them. Thankfully they made things easy and agreed to order a round of beer. You murmured that you'd be back, quickly walking out of the section to the bar.

When you walked over, you could see the family's drinks sitting on top of the counter and swapped out the drink tickets when you stopped before them. It was a little awkward trying to carry four drinks at once, struggling as you kept picking up and putting the cups downs.

“See? Wha' did I say?” Tyler spoke as she suddenly appeared next to you, placing a hand on her hip. “Tryin’ be some kind of fuckin’ avenger when yer jus’ makin’ yerself look goofy” She scoffed and held out her dish tray, watching as you placed the drinks down on it.

You took it from her with a sheepish look. "Thanks, Just a bit on edge" You told her, and she placed both her hands on your shoulders, smiling softly at you. "Don' be. Yer a natural. Jus' keep doin' wha' yer doin'" She gave you a salute and was gone as quickly as she had come.

Sighing sharply, you walk the tray of drinks over to the family with a smile and hand them, listening to the mother awe over the colors of her cocktail. "How pretty! I think we're all ready to order, right?" She glanced at her family for their confirmation, and you pulled your notepad out, tucking your tray under your arm. The mother ordered a margarita flatbread, her husband ordering a whiskey salmon, and her kids both ordering a classic hamburger. "I'll have those out for you guys shortly" You smiled once you had their order scribbled down, collecting their menus and leaving them be.

You walked past the men's table, briefly letting them know you were coming back with their beers, and dropped the menus off to the front where Javi was standing, getting the next group of people seated. "Y/n, I'm gonna stick these folks in your section. Hand me those" He said as he turned to you, taking the menus from your hand and leading them to your third table. You weren't doing too bad if you did say so yourself.

Thanks to the help of the tray, loading up the round of beers for the men wasn't much of a hassle at all. When they saw you approaching with the mugs filled to the bim, they whooped and hollered, prompting you to shush them as they began to collect eyes nearby. Instead of handing out the drinks like you did with the last table, you simply let them take their respective mug off the tray, knocking their glasses together. "I'm guessing you fellas are ready to order huh?" You give them your best show, even jutting your hip out a little. Don't get mad at a girl for using her resources.

"You bet'cha sweet ass we are, and this big boy wants a steak" The one they call Bill piped up once again, drumming on his belly as he spoke. A few laughs erupted from the table, and you felt your eye twitching. "How would you like that cooked?" You mumbled, smile just barely clinging to your face. "Medium-rare. I like mines to be pink on the inside" He laughed gravelly, and you tried to act like he wasn't comparing a steak to someone's vagina.

The same man nudged Bill, this time a little harder and more serious than last time. "Sorry 'bout him. I'll do the medallions" You nodded at him as you wrote down his order, murmuring how it was alright. The other men just started to throw their orders out there, placing their menus down in the middle once you had their request scribbled down. You gathered all the menus and dropped them off to the front, exhaling as you made your way to the kitchen in order to get your tables food started.

As you pushed the door open, you groaned when you saw how chaotically busy it was getting, loud chattering and banging filling the space. Orders were lined up and quickly being pushed out, some of the other waiters brushing past with their own trays of food in hand. Glancing around for someone, you awkwardly handed off the papers to the nearest chef. Getting ready to exit out the kitchen, feeling as though you were in the way the sound of applause rang out from the front, and all movement around seem to freeze for split second. You all looked around at each other, mirroring faces of confusion before Tyler came barreling through the doors.

"Norman fucking Reedus just fucking walked in and I swear on everythin' I love I'm gon’ go absloutely mad" She rambled, bouncing with energy.

“I thought he wasn’t supposed to come til tomorrow?” The head chef spoke, rising a brow from where he was manning a large grill.

Tyler rolled her eyes, charging towards rhe back office. “Who cares? He’s here now ‘nd I need ta’ make sure I look good!” She got about halfway, before turning back around grabbing you by the wrist, resuming her mission to the office.

Inside, she shuffled over to hee stuff, digging through a backpack and pulling out a makeup bag, plopping down in a seat and pulling up the lens of her phone. “So what’s the big deal?”

“Wha’s tha’ big deal?” Her eyes almost bulged out of her head, staring at you in shock and a bit of horror. “Oh, nothin’, jus’ tha’ he’s tha’ sexiest guy in Hollywood”

You scoffed at her, “Sexy ain’t nothing if he’s shit in the sheets” shaking your head.

Tyler groaned, curling her lashes carefully. “Ya’ don’ even know wha’ yer talkin’ ‘bout. He’s a munch, certifiable”

“Psh. I’ll believe that when I see it.” You say, turning to walk out the office and get a look at this guy for yourself.

“Wait!” Tyler held out her hand, rising to her feet. “Yer not leavin’ without a little touchup. One of us is gettin’ lucky tonight and it’s gon’ be me. If ya’ fuck him, I want all them details” She spoke as she maneuvered you to sit in the chair, tilting your your head up and insecpting your face.

“If I do fuck him it’ll just be so I can get ahold of his wallet” You murmur, closing your eyes as she dusted the lids of them with glitter, brushing some down the bridge of your nose. “Well ya’ better share some with me” She pinched your nose, and you swatted playfully at her, smirking. “I’ll think about it”

She swipes a glossy layer of gloss over your lips, before her own, tossing the contents of her makeup back into the bag and the bag back into her backpack. The kitchen has returned to loud clamoring and pots and pans being banged together, servers dashing in and out with their orders.

Nearby by, the food for your first table was waiting patiently for you, and you gasped softly. “Oh wow this stuff actually looks really good!”

Tyler held out the dish tray for you, again, holding it with both hands and verbally helping you to cram all four dishes on there, the flatbread being a long and awkward dish. “The salmon is super good. I probably done’ forced the kitchen ta’ make it fer m’bout a hundred times now” She laughed as she spoke, gingerly handing off the the tray to you. “Don’ drop nothin’”

“Now why would you even say that?” You roll your eyes at her, and lightly kick her shin, turning on your heel quickly to walk out the kitchen when she frowned your actions.

You pushed the door open with your hip and walked back out into the busy dining area, a smile on your face as you approached the family with their food, placing the tray down on the table so you could hand out their plates easily. The mother helped by taking her flatbread off, humming as she made sure it was exactly what she had wanted. “Could I get anything else for you folks tonight?” You politely asked, sliding the tray off the table and back under your arm. “Nope! Thank you, you’ve been so kind and helpful” The woman smiled back at you, and you slightly bowed your head before leaving them to their meal.

“I should be back with you guys food as well. Another round while we wait?” You stopped by the mens table, observing their almost empty mugs and giving a thumbs up at their rowdy agreement. “And my apologies for the wait. At least you had plenty of menu looking time right?” You joked lightly as you finally approached your third table for the night, a small group of friends who seemed like easy people to deal with.

“Ahaha, not much. We were pretty hung up on drinks. I think we’re all gonna try the Bloody Nicotero” One of the women spoke, glancing around the table for her friends confirmations. They all nodded in agreement, and another girl requested for a cup of water. “Would you like table water? For all of you!” They nodded, and you scribbled down the few drinks. “I’ll be right back with those” You smile at them, and as soon as you walk out the section it totally drops.

“Hey, muscle man!” You called out to him, leaning over the bartop. He eyed you from the side, finishing the drink he was currently pouring before moving over to you, a brow raised. “I have a name y’know” He pointed to the tag, but you ignored him, raising your own finger and pointing to the group’s order. “What the hell is a bloody Nekot… Nickote- Tar?-“

“Nicotero. And it really packs a punch” A man spoke suddenly from behind you, making you instinctively jump with your hands raised. “My God! Didn’t your momma teach you not to walk up behind people?” You huffed and put a hand over your thumping heart, turning back to the bartender to promptly ignore the asshole behind you.

“So like I was saying- What? Why’re you looking like that?” You glance at his stun face, and turn back to the man behind you, a curious smile tugging his lips. “Are you Nicotero?” You quirk a brow, and the bartender sputters.

The man lets out a light chuckle, shaking his head which made his wavy curls bounce. His hair was fair dark and stopped at his shoulders, his bangs attractively pushed back by a pair of sunglasses. He was pretty tall, and very well built, eyes lingering on his musclar arms longer than they should’ve. Your eyes flickered down to the skull inked on his hand, and then back up to his face.

“Nope. Nicotero is the other guy. I’m just Norman” His voice was smooth and rich, but not quite deep. It had a light and airy feel to it, very gentle on the ears.

Norman. Norman… “Reedus?” He nodded. Oh, well, shit. “Don’ know if you were aware of this pretty girl but I own this place” He spoke casually and easily.

“I wasn’t actually. I’ve only lived here for a week” You told him, watching as the bartender busied himself with your group’s drinks, as well as the men’s beers. “And this is my first day working here, and right now you, Norman, are being a distraction”

He raised a bow, smile only growing across his lips as he spoke. “That’s just what I do best darling”

You placed the tray down on the bartop and assist the man in fitting both the bloodies and waters onto the platter, slowly and very carefully picking it up.

Norman stepped out your way, and as you shuffled past him you stopped to whisper in his ear. “I feel like there’s a lot else you do best” You murmured, flirtatiously winking and walking into your section, greeting the friend group with a smile.

“Got your drinks here folks, heard these things knock your socks off so good luck” You joke as you hand out straws, clicking your pen and flipping through your notepad. “Is everyone ready to order?” You press the tip of the pen into the paper, writing down the first order shouted out and going down the line. There was a simple mix of burgers and salads, a few people had special requests on how they wanted their food to be which you wrote underneath, small but big at the same time.

You collected their menus, letting them know you'd have their food out shortly and whisking away, dropping the menus off at the front and walking quickly to the kitchen, glancing at Javi who seemed to be conversing with Norman. You pushed the door open and huffed a sigh of relief when the men's food was sitting there waiting. Placing the tray down, you loaded the plates on the best you could, having to carry two of them out with your other hand, balancing one on your forearm.

Another waitress saw you as she entered the kitchen, and she politely held the door open for you, nodding as you thanked her on your way out.

"Not gonna drop that are you?" Javi questioned when you walked back past, causing Norman to turn and glance at you.

You continue walking away, a smirk pulling your lips. "Not if you stop talking" The feeling of eyes lingering on your back makes a chill run up your spine, and part of you swears that you can feel butterflies in your stomach.

The men see you approaching their table, and at first, they start cheering but quiet down when they realize you were balancing heavy plates, resuming their celebration once the food is safely placed on the table. You call out the names of dishes to find their rightful owner, watching the men grab their plates and eagerly start eating, satisfied groans sounding from the table. With that, you left them to eat and returned back to the family, who was chatting amongst themselves and seemed finished with their food, most of it half eaten.

"Would you guys like some to-go boxes?" You smile, and the mother nods, "Yes please, and you can bring the tab as well," mirroring the kind smile you gave her.

You informed her you'd be right back with that, quickly walking out of the section and to the kitchen, glancing around. "Where's Tyler?" You asked a nearby chef, and he furrowed his brows, tilting his head in confusion. You repeated your question, a little louder this time, and he made an 'O' face, pointing to the office. You thanked him, and made your way back there, knocking before creaking the door open.

"What are you doing?" You stare at her, sitting in the chair with a tall cup and her phone in her hand. "Wha'? I needed my coffee" She shrugged, a smile playing on her lips. "Talk to my beloved husband yet?" You rolled your eyes at that, stepping inside the office, but catching yourself. "Wait! Uh, my first table is ready to pay"

"Oh!" Tyler kicked herself off the chair, stretching and taking another sip of her caffeine. "C'mere, lemme show ya'" She said as she ushered you out. She led you through the kitchen, bringing you to a section behind the door you hadn't even noticed was there.

There was a computer with a list of waiters and waitresses on them, table numbers as well as totals on it. You spotted your name, and read the first tables total, which actually wasn't a bad price at all. "Jus' click tha', and then the huge print button" Tyler pointed, tapping the screen as she explained. The machine behind the computer whizzed to life, printing out a receipt. "They want boxes?" She questioned and you nodded, watching as she reached her hand down and pulled four to-go boxes out. You took them from her silently, blinking as if she had just performed a magic trick.

Tyler tore the receipt out of the machine, clicking her pen and scribbling something down. As she did, the machine began to print once again, and Tyler pulled out a slim booklet from underneath. "It prints twice 'cause tha' second receipt is tha' one tha' customer signs" She said as she took the paper out the machine, sticking it into the booklet, and handing it to you.

You took it from her with a smile. "Thanks. I did talk to Norman, and he's alright. Nothing too special" She gawked at your words, and started to playfully smack you with her hands. "Ugh! Ya' don' know wha' yer yappin' 'bout! Tha' man will change yer life" She harped, voice fading as you walked out the kitchen, lips stuck in a smile as you brought over your first tab of the night.

The rest of your shift went by with a breeze, the number of people coming in was now lessening and coming in pairs of two and four. It wasn't as busy anymore, and the air around seemed to be less tense.

You only had about one more hour left before you were done, and had about two tables still waiting for their food. You were ecstatic that your first night had gone by without any mishaps or complaints, having received generous tips from all your tables throughout.

On your way back to the kitchen to check on your last few orders, you spotted Norman sitting alone at the bar with a small drink in hand as he seemed to do something on his phone. You aren't sure what came over you, but you found yourself quietly approaching from behind.

"Shouldn't you be riding away in a limo back to your mansion?" He jumped slightly at the sudden sound of your voice, turning towards you with a small smile. "Maybe, but I didn't wanna leave without getting to know you better" You raised a brow at that. "Seriously? I'm just a waitress. Shouldn't you be like screwing around with models?"

Norman laughed at that, shaking his head a little. "Who's to say you aren't a model?"

"Well, aren't you just a real charmer" You giggled, feeling a heat rising to your cheeks. "What? You wanna take me home or something?" You said jokingly, standing more off to his side now.

You observed the look on his face, soft, interested, yet so dark. His piercing blue eyes shamelessly raked over your figure, tongue darting out over his lips. "Yeah. I really do" He whispered, eyes landing on yours. "Can I?"

"Not very celeb-like taking home staff don't you think?" You hummed, taking his drink and downing the rest, a mix between whiskey and coke. "It would be quite unprofessional for you to take me to your house when I get off in thirty minutes, very unprofessional indeed" You sensually mumbled, tossing him a final cheeky glance before disappearing into the kitchen, almost sprinting to the back office to go find Tyler, giddy smile tugging your lips.

Staring at his now empty glass, head resting in his hand, Norman couldn't help the way his stomach flipped, excitement and anticipation building up as your words rang out in his head.

Thirty minutes had felt like a whole other hour, and you heaved a sigh of relief when you finally clocked out, purse slung over your shoulder and your sweater draped over yourself in a puny attempt to shield yourself from the cold.

Tyler had almost flipped the table over when you told her, jumping off the walls and excitedly shaking you, squealing as she rambled about all the things she thought were gonna happen, yelling that you needed to tell her every detail afterward. She even downright begged for you to get some pictures.

She had already left in her car to go home, slamming the digits of her number into your phone and pulling you into a tight hug, telling you to be safe and text her as soon as you got to your next destination, threatening to send out a search squad.

You stood outside, mindlessly rolling a rock under your foot and swiping through Insta, starting to wonder if a literal A-list celeb had just totally played in your face. Minutes went by and you started to feel a little offended, rightfully so, deciding to start making your way back home instead of waiting around like an idiot. As you were walking, you texted Tyler that you were leaving, that he had just left instead. Cars passed by and obviously none seemed to belong to someone who would own a restaurant. You scoffed, annoyed but not surprised.

As you rounded the corner to the street of your apartment building, you just so happened to crash into somebody smoking a cigarette, of coursing falling onto your ass like a dumbfuck.

"Damn, tryna run away from me gorgeous?" Norman's light voice sounded, and you blinked your eyes into focus. "Been looking for you" You grumbled as he easily lifted you off the ground, taking a drag from the cigarette. "Sorry. I get bored sitting still for too long" He shrugged, smiling cheekily at you. "Ready to go?"

"Go where? My house is right there" You shook your head, gesturing towards the building.

Norman waved his hand, dismissing you. "Nah. Gonna take you for a little ride. C'mon," He took a final pull, stubbing his cig out on the wall and motioning for you to follow him.

He led you back down the sidewalk and a little distance from the restaurant, making easy and light conversation. It felt like you had known him forever with the way he casually joked around with you, your heart fluttering a little each time he laughed.

He walked you over to a sleek and shiny motorcycle, standing on the other side of it with his hand held out, offering you some help with climbing onto the back of his bike. "A romantic bike ride? And here I thought you had ghosted me" You laughed when he himself straddled the bike, the engine roaring to life.

"Ghosted? Someone like you? Never doll" Norman chuckled over the rumble of his bike, kicking the stand out and rolling out the parking lot, glancing both ways for any passing cars.

You wrapped your arms around his middle when he started to pick up speed, turning off Senoia's main road and revving the engine, motorcycle quickly shooting forward. "Not so fast!" You gasp, tightening your hold. He laughed, patting one of your hands with his. You put your head on his shoulder to get a better view of the road, catching a strong whiff of his very expensive-smelling cologne, an exotic herbal smell that attracted you to him more, a heat shooting down to your core.

Norman caught a glimpse of your lust-filling eyes in his side mirror, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he knew he was in for a treat tonight, almost instinctively revving his engine again to speed up, but obeyed your request to not go too fast. He drove with the flow of traffic, listening to you awe over the lights and buildings. "Ever been to Atlanta?"

"Atlanta? Wh-why are we going there?" You stammered, taken aback since well, that was bit of a distance.

"Oh no doll, we aren't going. Yer just back there 'oh'ing and 'awe'ing I figured not" Norman chuckled, laughing when you smacked his shoulder. "Hold on, we're almost there" This time he revved his engine again, weaving between cars.

It made you feel like a teenager again, getting whisked away at night to some random guys house for an hour or two of fun, just to be dropped off somewhere unknown but close to home. It brought you back to your early twenties also, the years having been filled with nothing but hungover days and drunken nights, latching onto some poor guy who was willing to buy you every shot you down, likely in hopes of getting laid.

Sitting on the back of Norman’s bike however, something your gut told you this would be a little more than just a plain hook-up. Tyler’s words rang out in your head, and you couldn’t help but start to wonder if this really would change your life.

The traffic on the road dispersed as he drove further out, eventually turning down a quiet and dirt road.

“Whoa, I ain’t about to get murdered am I?” You joked, but you were really asking.

Norman chuckled, squeezing your hand and even looping his fingers through. “Nah. I’d take you out somewhere pretty”

“You wanna take me out or take me to bed?” You wiggled your fingers in his hold as a mock wiggle of the brows.

“Maybe I wanna do both”

Jesus, this man was something else.

The dirt road continued out for a couple of miles out, gravel and rocks crunching under the spinning tires of his bike. The road seemed to be hidden by a tall grassy field and towering trees, the only sound interrupting the peace being the rumble of Norman’s engine.

He made another turn, the tall field of grass seeming endlessly as he drove until you could barely make out what looked like houses at the top of a field. Shit, maybe he really was gonna murder you?

Norman revved the engine and the motorcycle picked up speeds, whipping the cool country air into your face and probably messing up your tied hair. The large houses came closer into view, huge properties with cars in driveways and lights on. The houses were scattered, your next-door neighbor being about five normal houses away.

Norman rolled down the street at a slower speed as to not disturb his neighbors, approaching a dark and gated house. The gates opened after the man pressed a few buttons on his phone, the outside lights of the home fading on and making it look more welcoming.

The gates closed behind the two of you when he rumbled onto the large driveway, lazily parking his bike right where he was.

This time you didn’t need any help, swinging yourself off the motorcycle and immediately tossing your arms up to stretch as you stared at the literal mansion you were about to walk into.

“C’mon. Did you get a chance to eat?” Norman placed a hand on your hip and led you to the front door, some fancy thumbprint technology letting him in.

“Not yet,” You smile softly as you enter the home, standing in the boxed-off foyer. “I got whisked away before I could escape back home”

“Well, I surely didn’t bring you here to starve you. Take your shoes off, I’ll mix something up” Norman said as he took his own shoes off, socked feet quiet against his wooden floors.

You toed off your own shoes next to his and followed, staring in awe at the midsized entrance. Two staircases descended on either side, leading to an equally large-looking upstairs with a small balcony.

Straight ahead, there was an opening that led out to the spacious main area, tall industrial windows covered the walls in the living room, paired with ceiling-to-floor navy blue curtains tied back so as to probably let in the earlier sunlight. The kitchen was big as well, with dark and wooden cabinets matched to grey ash-colored granite counters with specs of black obsidian throughout.

You had never seen such a gorgeous home, marveling at how clean it was. It had a luxurious feel while still being homely at the same time, a few paintings and sculptures hung up on the walls, sitting on table tops.

“This place is beautiful,” You said after taking a minute to fully appreciate the decor, resting your hip against the counter. “Do you live here?” You placed your purse down.

Norman laughed from somewhere, rounding a corner with an expensive-looking bottle of whiskey. “For the moment. I’m usually out in New York, but I have to be here for some work” You watched as he poured two glasses, handing you one a small smile.

You clinked the glasses together and both threw them back, the liquid burning your throat as well as your chest. “What do you do for work?” You said as you cleared your throat.

“Well right now we’re shooting,” Norman said casually, turning and opening the large fridge.

“A movie?” You question, pulling at the collar of your shirt.

The man chuckled slightly, “Do you have any ideaa who I am?” turning to you with a playful smile tugging his lips.

You scoffed, cheeks heating up a little bit because, well, “No, not really. My co-worker seemed to be a fan though”

“Oh really now? What’d she tell you?” Norman quipped, chopping and tossing the ingredients for what you could see was a really stuffed chicken salad.

“That you were the sexiest guy in Hollywood” He laughed at that, and you couldn’t help but stare at his broad shoulders from behind, watching his back muscles as he fixed the food.

“Well?” He said after a minute, and you realized you had zoned out. “What?”

Norman glanced at you, a dark look in his blue eyes. “Do you agree with her?”

You stared at him for a moment, before slowly approaching, stopping only a few centimeters short from him.

“Make me agree with her” You whispered, batting your lashes as you ran your finger up his arm.

Norman halted his movements, staring at you before his eyes flickered down to your lips, not hesitating to lean down and kiss them.

“Ya’ ain’t got no clue what you’re askin’ for, doll” He rasped, disregarding the half-made salad as he gripped your waist, lifting you off your feet and onto the island top, slotting himself between your legs as he moved to capture your lips in another kiss, this one way more eager and heated.

You moaned softly into his mouth as his hands caressed and fondled your waist, sliding down to your hips and pulling you closer against him, pressed his bulge into your clothed cunt.

He kissed you calculated yet sloppily, tongue swirling around in your mouth as his fingers slipped under your uniform. You hooked an arm around the back of his neck and bit down on his bottom lip, hard enough to where he groaned painfully. “Come on, impress me already”

“Whadd’ya want from me?” Norman started to kiss and lick your neck, but you yanked his head back by his hair, for starters yanking the pokey sunglasses off. “I wanna see what you’ve got, maybe like,” You trailed a hand down his chest, pushing him hard so he stumbled into the counter behind him. “What you’ve got in your pants?”

You kicked yourself off the island, pulling the hair ties out your hair and fluffing it out, dropping down to crawl over to Norman, evil smile taking over your lips as you scratched your nails down his denim jeans, mouthing and placing open mouth kisses over his straining cock.

Norman groaned above you, “Think ya can handle it?” a hand coming down and tangling into your hair.

“Can you handle it?” You retort, taking the zipper of his jeans between your teeth and unzipping them, popping the button open.

You tugged his boxers down, very unexpectedly getting smacked in the face by his cock, a good thick eight inches. His tip was red and leaky, the veins running along his shaft pulsating. You had been with your fair share of big guys, but Norman was quite impressive, your fingers stretching when you wrapped them around him.

You gave him a few experimental strokes, playfully looking up at him through your lashes as you run your tongue from his balls, all the way up to the head of his cock, swirling your tongue around it and taking it into your mouth, sucking the salty pre-cum off.

Norman’s hips jerked slightly, a mumble of curses falling from his lips as he tightened his grip on your hair. “M’not gonna be very nice to ya’ if you keep it up” He grunted, his face a little flushed.

“Didn’t want you to be nice in the place” You mused as you licked down the sides of his throbbing dick, smearing spit from your tongue as you went along. “Such a big cock but do you even know how to use it?”

Norman scoffed slightly, “Ya’ really don’t know who I am” rolling his hips when you took only his tip past your lips.

“Gonna show me?” You wiggled your butt a little, a surge of excitement coursing through you when rough hands gathered all your hair in one. “Yup, gon’ make you remember it too. Open that little bratty ass mouth wide” He tugged your head back, and you moaned, stretching open your lips as well curling your tongue inside your mouth.

Norman slowly slid himself inside, grunting at the warm wetness engulfing him as he leisurely rocked his hips, thrusting half his cock past your lips. There was an uncomfortable stretch the more he pushed in, a slight burning sensation as he worked himself in.

“I know this pretty throat can take a lot more, c’mon girl” Norman rasped, tilting your head further back and holding himself at his base, pushing in until his tip hit the back of your throat.

You relaxed your gag muscles, staring up at him innocently as you started to slide the head of his cock down, Norman letting out a thick hum as his grip in your hair tightened and his eyes fluttered, his hips jerking forward. He snapped the rest of his length suddenly down into your throat, a harsh grunt coming from him when your moan vibrated through him.

He pulled his hips back and sent them forward again, going smoothly back down in one thrust, repeating this action a few times. Norman watched how all his cock disappeared past your plush lips, nose nuzzled in his well-trimmed pubes before he pulls his hips back, leaving only the tip in before fully sliding right back down.

You squeezed your thighs together each time he plunged his cock into your mouth, eyes rolling shut as he started to increase his pace, only pulling himself out halfway now.

“Takin’ me so well gorgeous,” Norman said in a low, husky drawl. “S’like ya’ were made for this”

He was practically humping your face at this point, his own a bright shade of red as pants, and small gasps came from him, flat-out fucking your mouth. Each little noise that came from him made your cunt throb.

Speaking of throbbing, you could feel the way Norman’s cock was pulsating in your throat, deep and shaky grunts starting to come from him. His hips sped up, the sound of his balls slapping against your chin slightly echoing in the spaciousness, the soft gagging of his cock abusing your throat only heard between the two of you, followed soon by Norman’s heavy whimpers, grip on your hair impossibly tight.

His hips stuttered, cock twitching and spasming as he spilled deep inside your throat, trying your best to swallow but you sputtered around him, cum dribbling from the sides of your mouth.

Norman pulled himself out from your mouth, groaning softly at the cool air hitting his sloppy dick as it rested still painfully hard against your equally messy lips, gasping as you stared up at him.

“Impressed yet?” He raised a brow, out of breath himself.

You ran your tongue over your top lip, tasting his bitter release with a smile. “I thought you weren’t gonna be nice? I think you’re being quite boring if you ask me” You teasingly spoke.

Norman smirked, “Who said I was done? By the time m’done with ya’, your body will remember the shape of my cock” He said, snapping himself all the way back down into your throat, not wasting any time before he was fucking into it. He was still a little sensitive from his first orgasm, each bump of his tip pulling a husky whine from him.

It didn’t take long at all before he was already starting to get weak in the knees, each thrust feeling better than the last. He increased his pace, breathing picking up as small whimpers and gasps fell from his lips, a few final strokes before he was cumming down your throat, holding you flush against his navel as you swallowed the best you could.

He pulled out, leaving only the head of his cock on your tongue as he rutted against it, drawing out his orgasm until he was spent, cock softening when he pulled completely out.

You swallowed his load while staring right into his eyes, fluttering your lashes with your bottom lip caught between your teeth.

“Salad can wait. I wanna see wha’s hidin’ under this uniform” Norman said as he suddenly leaned down, scooping you up and tossing you over a sturdy shoulder, strong arm keeping you secure by your middle.

You let out a high yelp at the change in position, bouncing slightly as he trudged out of the kitchen, tugging at your pants as he climbed the stairs. He tossed them somewhere for you to hunt down in the morning, letting out a satisfied chuckle at your round backside, smacking a bubbly cheek. You giggled around a moan, especially when he firmly squeezed that cheek and spread it, helping himself to the view of your soaked panties, a dark red with black lace.

He pushed open a door to a huge and luxurious bedroom, the bed he dropped you on feeling like a cloud pulled straight out of the sky. Norman tore his shirt off, you doing the same as he dipped down, dragging his lips and teeth across your dark skin, sucking and biting as he explored your exposed collarbone.

You groaned and shamelessly wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him down to feel his already-hardening cock against your wet heat. Norman seemed to have something different in mind.

“Wanna sit on my face, sweet girl?” He murmured into your ear, brushing curly hair out your face. “Did so well fer me, gotta return the favor”

“You don’t gotta ask me twice,” You said in a honeyed voice, using your legs to flip your positions.

Norman landed with a small sound, looking up at you as you rolled your hips down on where you had his cock trapped between your two bodies. His hands traveled up to your waist, caressing and fondling the deep skin.

You looked like a goddess straddling him, curly hair flowing everywhere and framing your upper half, Norman’s eyes flickering down to your black bra where your tits were practically spilling out. You crawled towards his face, dragging your core heat up his abs and pressing it on his chest, towering angelically above him.

“I hope you don’t disappoint me” You tease, lifting yourself up onto your knees as you stuff your panties to the side, heart racing a little.

Norman licked his lips, hands squeezing your hips as he watched you toy with your clit. “Wouldn’t be able to forgive myself” He whispered, tugging you towards him.

You lowered yourself down, Norman more so pulling you down onto his waiting tongue, licking a warm stripe up your aching cunt, a pleased moan coming from you as you gripped the headboard, rolling your hips.

He started at your clit, flattening his tongue and giving the puffy bundle of nerves multiple hard licks, waves of electricity shooting through all your limbs, down to your tightly curled toes. He took the small bud into his mouth, sucking hard and rubbing the tip of his tongue against the raw nerves, making you gasp and rut down onto him.

Norman seemed to be enjoying himself, soft groans of his own coming from him as he started to slide his tongue between your folds, teasing your entrance before swirling around your clit, repeating the action a few more times. He used his grip on your hips to steadily rock you back and forth in time with his deep licks.

Eventually, he slid his tongue all the way inside your hole, curling it as well as thrusting it in and out. “Mmm, fuck yes, keep using that fucking tongue in me” You were almost bouncing on his face at this point, passionately moaning as he curled the wet muscle into you, harshly licking as his nose bumped against your clitoris.

His hands encouraged your movements, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your ass as he plunged his tongue as deep into you as he could. His cock twitched and needily ached, hips slightly jerking upward into the air. You ground your clit down on the tip of his nose, body rolling as he worked you closer and closer to the edge.

Norman could feel you clenching around his tongue, deciding to speed up your nearing orgasm by suddenly slipping out you, replacing his nose on your clit for his tongue, and filling your back up with two thick fingers, blissfully curling right into your sweet spot. You moaned loudly as one of your hands tangled in his hair, gripping roughly. Your body trembled as he fingered you in time with his tongue, bone-crushing weight washing over you as your hole spasmed around his wiggling digits, grinding down on his tongue until you just couldn’t take it anymore, groaning as you could feel your used cunt leaking juices all over his hand and face.

You were both gasping for air when you lifted yourself onto wobbly knees, Norman’s fingers slipping out as you kept yourself steady by gripping the headboard with both hands.

“Are ya’ impressed now?” He asked, audibly out of breath as he licked your slick from his glistening lips.

You scoff, smiling down at him. “A little, but I’d like to get to the main course now,” You said, swinging a leg and crawling off from above him. “No more side dishes”

Norman watched as you discarded the drenched pair of panties somewhere in the room, landing on the wooden floor with a small slap. You yanked your socks up, taking a needed second to ball them together before tossing them as well, starting to grab at Norman’s unbuttoned pants.

He helped kick them off, murmuring to you as he tugged his own socks off. “Forgot ta’ take yer bra doll”

“That’s your job, mister famous” You chuckle as he comes up behind you, hands exploring your bare melanin skin as they run up your sides, climbing and cupping your breast, circling to your back to unclasp the bra hooks. He threw the final piece of garment onto the floor, pulling you flush against his front.

He started sucking on your neck, one of his hands fondling your tit while the other snaked down to toy with your puffy clit. He rubbed his cock between your cheek, biting and licking his way to your shoulder. He pinched and rolled your nipple with his fingers, trailing his lips up the side of your neck and nibbling on your pulse.

You moaned softly when his hand dropped your tit, coming up to brush your hair out the way, gathering it in a tight but gentle grip as he tugged your head back onto his shoulder, dragging his tongue across your newly exposed throat, up the underside of your jaw till he reached your lips, capturing them in his.

Norman’s cock twitched against you when your hand joined the one still fingering your clit, scratching his skin with your nails gingerly as he slowly kissed you, deep and lustful. You blindly reached your hand behind yourself and felt around for his dick, a small grunt coming from him when your fingers grazed his tip. “Ya’ ready fer me?” He murmured against your lips.

“Been ready since I got here” You sass, dropping down onto your elbows with round hips in the air. “You better fuck me like you mean it”

A hand landed on your ass, Norman’s other still holding up your hair, grip a little tighter now as he burned the image of your arch into his head, the hand he spanked you with spreading your cheek, thumbing your pussy as he pressed his tip to your entrance, greedily sucking him in.

He was big, but you were so wet and dripping to the point he just completely slid in, unrestrained groan coming out his chest as his entire cock was swallowed up and wrapped in your squishy walls, almost immediately starting to find a rhythm with his hips.

Norman’s fingers curled into the fat flesh of your ass, “Takin’ all of m’so goddamn well baby girl, could fuck this pussy for fuckin’ days” spreading you apart so he could watch the way his cock was sliding into you and blissfully stretching you open.

“Pound me already, I thought you were gonna be a meanie tonight” You drawl as you roll your head from side to side, pushing back needily against him.

He gripped your hair at the roots suddenly, yanking it roughly to pull you up onto your arms, almost pulling himself all the way out before slamming right into a sensitive bundle of nerves, mewl of pleasure racking your body as he started to relentlessly and mercilessly thrust into your body, so deep that you thought he was actually in your stomach for a moment.

You gasped and sputtered as he pulled you back by your hair in time with his harsh hips, huffing as he started to fuck you with all his strength. Each slam of his hips sent his cock flying into your cervix, each one leaving you more breathless than the last. “Got real quiet all of a sudden girl. This wha’ ya’ want?”

Norman’s fingers were fisted in your hair, the sound of skin slapping against skin reverberated in the large room, bed quietly squeaking as he railed you, watching how each forward thrust of his hips made your ass bounce, a wet sound coming from where his balls slapped against your clit.

“Yes, Oh fuck yes,” You mewl, eyes rolling back as your toes curled. “Harder, I know you can fuck me so much harder” Norman groans at your words, yanking you back onto your knees flush against his front and wrapping a hand around your throat, dropping his grip in curly hair to tightly grip your hip, jamming the entirety of his cock into your body, poking spots you didn’t even know were there.

He quickly resumed his unforgiving pace, pounding into you so deep and so rough, you choked out small sobs with each hit of his tip, gasping as you started to lose air. It was everything Tyler told you it would be and more, dots starting to cloud your vision and prickle under your skin, clenching as you could feel each thrust send you further and further to the edge.

You can tell Norman can feel it too, resting his sweaty forehead against your shoulder as he starts to lose rhythm slightly, pace not faltering as his cock twitches inside you, so tight and hot, your cunt squeezing his full dick like never before. It made Norman’s head fuzzy and a little dizzy, fueling the buzz he had from the earlier alcohol, though he only had about maybe three drinks total tonight. He was purely drunk off your body, letting out a soft whimper as he throbbed, on the verge of his orgasm.

“Feels so good, don’ wanna pull out of ya’…” Norman mumbled as he rocked himself into you, grunting when his tip nudged against your cervix. “Might just hafta’ stuff ya’ beautiful”

You rolled your head back onto his shoulder, his grip around your throat loosening as you cheekily smiled. “Yes please, let’s make a mess” Norman mirrored your expression before reaching down and capturing your lips in a deep kiss, swirling his tongue around yours.

He pulled his hips back, leaving only the tip in before sliding all the way back inside, hungrily groaning into your mouth as he repeated the action, downright stroking his cock using your cunt. "Jus' gonna let me to fill this pretty pussy? Pump you full of all my cum?" Norman groaned, increasing his pace as his hot mouth landed on your neck, his teeth and beard scraping the skin as he continued his deep strokes, still pounding blissfully into you.

"God yes, give it all to me" You moan, rough fingers coming back up to your hair. Norman forcefully pinned your upper half down into the fluffy sheets, his other hand firmly gripping your ass as he fucked into you like an animal, shoving his whole dick into your cunt from tip to base. You let out a high keen with every unforgiving thrust, each one sending you a little closer to the edge.

Norman huskily panted, whimpering a little as he sped up, this time pulling you back onto his cock to meet his hips as he started to really fuck you, now railing into you with all his strength. Uncontrolled whines came from you, eyes rolling as his hand tightly gripped your scalp, each loud slap of his pelvis against your backside sent you lurching forward, only to be yanked back by the fistful of curly hair.

Your walls were practically milking his cock, so warm and wet around him, greedily sucking him in with every thrust, squeezing the entirety of his length as he increased his pace even more, letting out unrestrained gasps and grunts as his hips begin to stutter in their rhythm. “Fuck m’gonna fuckin’ cum” Norman chokes out, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he groaned with each hot drag of your cunt, cock twitching and throbbing inside you as he fucked himself closer and closer over the edge. “Jus’ keep fuckin’ takin’ me doll, takin’ me so damn well”

His words made you tighten up around him, and it was all he need to fly off the handle, tossing his head back as his hips sputtered, cock slipping out of your stretched hole with an audible pop, Norman softly groaning as he came all over your twitching pussy, suddenly pushing himself inside and letting out a loud, shaky whimper, fingers curling in your hair as he started to fuck into you again, followed by the filthy squleching of Norman’s cock sliding into your ruined cunt, his cum becoming a creamy mess were it was being pushed in and out, dribbling down your folds to your clit where his balls slapped lewdly against.

“So fucking good for me, ya’ve got such a perfect pussy ‘could fuck you all day” Norman purred, dipping his head down to latch onto the skin of your already marked shoulder, sinking his teeth into the flesh and shuddering when he seemed to slip impossibly deeper into you. His hand fell from your hair, both palms falling firmly on either side of your head. "Feels like a goddamn dream" He snapped forward, breathing hot in your ear and gently nibbling on it. One of your hands wrapped around his wrist, helpless gasps falling from you with each drag of his cock, feeling the throbbing veins which each thrust.

Your nails curled into his skin, eyes fluttering shut as your second orgasm built rapidly in your gut, whines of pleasure spilling past your lips. You couldn't even speak, each hard snap of his hips knocking the words straight out your chest. Norman roughly groaned in your ear, hotly kissing and licking at your bare shoulder. You were both so close, it only fueled his animalistic pace as he sped up.

Norman fisted the comforter in his hands, the skin tingling and raw from where you dug into it, little half-crescents decorating the back of his hand, and puffy lines sprouting blood on his arm, sweet sobs coming from you with every jab of his cock. Norman buried his sweaty face into the crook of your neck, sucking and biting the skin, his beard scratchy as he trailed his lips up to your pounding pulse. A breathy, shaky whimper came from him as he stuttered in his movements, pressing himself deep as he spilled into you for the second time, capturing your kiss in a greedy and heated kiss, moaning into each other's mouth as he drew out your shared orgasm.

When he pulled out with a slick pop, softly humming as the cold air hit his cock, you were both thoroughly fucked and completely worn out, panting heavily with Norman still halfway on top of you.

“Are ya' impressed yet?” He huffed out, a smirk forming on his face as he tugged your head back.

With a deep exhale and a small smile playing on your lips, you looked over at him with heavy, satisfied eyes. "I guess I am"

｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

Okay, I absolutely LOVED writing this request. It practically consumed my life lol. I would definitely be open to more reqs like this where there’s a little bit of a plot, even though I already have so many that are unanswered 🥲🥲🥲

I was really nervous about posting this because I’m just not a fan of the ending but at this point all I can do is hope for the best

THAT BEING SAID If people are also interested in sending in more Norman requests… 🥶🧏🏾‍♀️ y’know where to hmu babe

ALSO SHOUTOUT TO MY FAV POOKIE TYLER WHO DIDNT EVEN KNOW I WAS USING HER AS A WAITRESS I LOOVE YOOU BABYGIRL MY OLDER SISSY FR 😝

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

[exnoiafork]

Hello nice to meet you friend I was hoping you could write so fluff headcanons for folly from regretevator

folly x reader floof style!!

disclaimer: won’t be floof at ALL… fanfic typa style, platonic , might be ooc

- you absolutely love sleeping. like you love sleeping so much it takes up half of your day . yet, even if you sleep for 12 hours every single day since the beginning of that mortal life of yours…, you’re still always sleepy.

- that sleepiness is a bit of an advantage, like back when you were in college , you always slept in class and thus barely got passing grades in your subjects. even when you’re working, as a waiter, you’re always sleepy.

- though, because of this, you managed to catch someone’s eye.

- a week after your second day at work, you started seeing that someone appear in your dreams. every single dream, they always appeared. no matter what they were always in your mind’s walls. they looked like they could give you nightmares, but for some reason, they never did.

- eventually, a bit after whoever that is started appearing in your dreams …

- you woke up in a void. what the hell ?? where were you?? this is a dream, right??

- a few minutes after you woke up, that.. dream.. person??.. walked up to you. she was ridiculously tall… like giants in those fantasy books you used to read

- she was staring right into your soul , like she was literally staring right into your eyes.

- “I have been watching you for quite some time.”

- “Who.. who are you? You always appear in my dreams.. do you want something?” you were confused. really confused. you wanted to know whoever this is

- “You are quite the sleeper. Mhmhhm…”

- “To answer your question.. they call me The Dream Parasite.”

- “So.. you feed on dreams. But-“

- “I know, I know. Your mortal mind did not deteriorate from my prescence.. hmmhm.. haha..”

- “Should’ve.. should’ve thought you can read my mind… you look kinda.. I’m sorry — weird?..

- . . . . .

- “I know.. however, I have seen and heard worse things than.. those words.”

- She looked.. kinda.. sad? Melancholic? Fancy word ..

- “You look kinda-“

- In that moment alone.. you woke up.

- “The Dream Parasite” kept on appearing in your dreams, and whoever wanted to hurt you had nightmares haunting them for a long time.

- …

- you , on the other hand , never had a nightmare ever again. not even when the crimson moon is out , you would never ever get a nightmare. your dreams became a bit sweeter, though they looked.. “glitched.” a few tears were on the floor of each dream.

- “a few tears were on the floor of each dream”

- maybe the dream parasite actually likes you in a platonically way, and she doesn’t want to show it outside of dreams.

[anundyingfidelity]

YES, MA’AM — Sam Winchester/Sam Wesson ft. Dean Winchester/Dean Smith (Chapter I)

Summary: Sam is the new tech support guy at Sandover Bridge & Iron Inc., and he thinks you, his supervisor, are related to him in ways more than professional. He not only dreams of ghosts and Dean Smith, the sales and marketing director, but you, the pretty boss who seems very fond of him, maybe a little too much.

Word count: 1.3k.

Pairing: Sam W./Sam Wesson x female reader (main), Dean W./Dean Smith x female reader. Situated in 4x17 - It's a Terrible Life.

Warnings for this series: smut with plot, sexual tension, sub!Sam, dom!reader, switch!Dean, co-workers with benefits with Dean, boss/employee dynamics, canon violence and stuff. Slow updates oops.

Notes: welcome to my very first spn fanfic, hope you enjoy this short series of Sam and Dean!

If you'd like to be added, the taglist is here!

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

Chapter I | Chapter II

Chapter I: A Boring Life

Taking a quick look at the clock on the corner of the screen of his computer, Sam let out a long sigh. Lunch hour was far from near. He continued drawing the monsters he saw in his dreams on the notebook, those who wouldn't let him continue his abnormally boring and stupid life.

"Hey, Sam," a voice called, making him jump slightly on his seat.

He cleared his throat shutting the notebook and sitting right this time as he took in your figure towering over him in the cubicle with a smile on your lips.

"Hi, uhm... Is something wrong?"

You chuckled slightly. He wanted to slap himself for saying that. For Sam, bosses coming to him meant he might have done something wrong. He didn't want to know what he screwed up. Barely three weeks have passed since he started working there. As much as things were strange and weird around, Sam just wanted a quiet life.

"Not at all," you answered in a friendly manner. "Actually I just wanted to give you kudos. I've received good compliments from customers who called for help, you're doing excellent!"

Sam breathed out, feeling a heavy weight on his back dropping. He smiled. "Well, thank you. It feels good doing that."

But a raise or something would feel absolutely better, he thought.

"Sure! You're brilliant, have you ever been told that?"

"Uhm, not here. I mean- I want to say you're the first one. Sorry, the first one to say I'm brilliant, I- uhm I never really got kudos before? I don't think so but it does feel great."

He stumbled so much with his words that it made you laugh a little but he noticed you tried to suppress it. So you gave him a nod.

"Yeah, of course. I also see you're very organized with your stuff and reports," you remarked before taking a quick glance around and leaning a little bit toward him, your face morphing into a shy look. "Probably I shouldn't but could you help me with some reports today? You'd be off the phone, I just really need to send them by the end of the day and I'm extremely busy."

You bit your painted lower lip with big doe eyes, waiting for an answer. Since the first day he saw you around the company, he thought you looked extremely familiar. Like he had seen you before. Hell, it was like he knew you ages ago. But he wouldn't say it out loud, he might look like a creep.

You'd usually come like this to his spot just to talk and get into business, sometimes he'd go to ask you something he wasn't sure about from a call, but he never, ever herd from a complaint or that his work was shit from you. In fact, you were very kind and smart, always letting him know you were there if he needed anything. And you were pretty. So damn beautiful that you got his heart agitated and his body aching when you bent over a desk wearing tight black pencil skirts and those matching high stockings. He began to think probably you liked him but you used to get close to all of your employees on the tech support floor. You were just being nice to everyone.

"Uh, sure. I can do that," Sam curved his lips into a smile.

"Thank you, you're a lifesaver! I'll send you those in your email, ask me anything if it's difficult, okay?"

You responded with happy demeanour and quickly walked away back to your office, leaving him alone before he had the moment to say something. Just two minutes later he received an email from you with a bunch of reports and data to organize.

Sam scanned the files quickly while hearing the sounds of a chair rolling to his side.

"I think she likes you, man," Ian, the messy and chill coworker of his, teased. Sam chuckled.

"Nah, she's just nice to everyone. Besides, she needs help."

Suddenly, a notification popped from the side of his screen on the computer.

It was a message from you. It read:

Put on the headphones and listen to some music if you want ;)

"You were saying?" Ian joked again.

He smiled. Well, at least he'd be off the phone. Shouldn't be that hard, right?

The night fell and Sam found himself alone on his desk at eight o'clock working on your reports. Seeing the long reports and files he thought could make it on time to finish his shift at four and leave on time. It was fucking Friday. Poor him.

At least you ordered delivery for dinner for both of you. The good thing was that he wasn't really alone on the floor, you were in your office but soft music played as you worked on your stuff. Moments later, you found yourself sitting by Sam's side as he worked the final things on the last report.

"It's done," he announced, his body falling to the backrest of his chair.

"Thanks," you whispered shyly as he sent the finished files back to you. "I'm so sorry though, it's so late."

"Well, didn't have anything to do either."

"Really?!"

Your surprise made his eyes fall on you. He shrugged. "Just sleep."

You raised your eyebrows. "I thought maybe a girlfriend was waiting for you or something?"

He shook his head, pressing his lips together. "No, nothing like that."

The question was odd coming from you, so he decided to play a little.

"What about you?"

This time you shook your head. "Just my books and my TV."

Sam hummed. "It's a boring life, isn't it?"

"Yeah, well I get to pay my bills by the end of the month... And I meet nice people here... And I see you- Sorry."

You cut off your words all of a sudden, your eyes blinking rapidly saying you realized what you just said.

"My bad. We should get going."

You gave him a smile to try and brush off your words, but they were strong enough to get in Sam's head unnoticed. He watched you walk away, turning your computer and lights off on your office as Sam did the same on his spot. Once done, you walked out the floor together in silence.

"Thank you again. I don't think no one would ever do this for me here," you admitted with a deep exhale.

"Yeah, no problem," Sam smiled kindly as you got closer to the elevator.

"Really, I owe you. Do you have a car to get home or something? I can give you a ride if you need."

"I do, don't worry," he said as you stopped in front of the elevator, the doors opening.

"Great, so I think this is it," you grinned at him. "Have a good night."

"Thanks. I hope you have a good weekend, boss."

You nodded. "You too, Sam. Take care."

He saw you disappearing inside the elevator with a wave of your hand and a beautiful smile on your face. With a sigh, he made his way to the locker room and took his briefcase and stuff out. It was just a couple of minutes that he saw you leaving when he went back to the elevator. Checking his watch, the lift arrived and before he could get inside, he got a shocking picture in front of him.

Dean Smith, the marketing director, had you pinned against the wall and kissing down your neck. Your blouse unbuttoned, skirt up, lips open and eyes closed in bliss. Dean noticed the doors were open, pulling away his plump lips from your skin.

"Sorry buddy, wrong floor," he beamed and pushed the right button.

When you opened your eyes once again, you met Sam's open mouth and wide eyes as the doors closed. Great, now he might think you're a slut. 

[extant-exhaustion]

Can I ask your top 10 fav fics ever (from any fandom, if you don't mind)?

Also, just curious, is there a story behind your name "extant-exhaustion "?

Well, first of all, thank you so much for your patience! I know it took me seven weeks to reply to this Ask! I agonized over my list (also, the holidays happened, which kept me busy). But I finally narrowed it down, so here we go, in no particular order:

My Top 10 Favorite Fanfics

In Another Life by LittleLuxray Haikyuu!! | T+ | 23k | Bokuto/Akaashi | angst, sickfic | It's famous for a reason. Truly one of the best pieces of writing I've ever read, including published works—I've rarely cried so hard or been moved so much.

died in my dreams by MTrash Haikyuu!! | T+ | 10k | Ushijima/Tendou | futuristic/cyberpunk AU, opposites attract, reluctant work partners to friends to lovers | fantastic characterization, really cool conceptually, a story about trauma and healing and finding your person

the weight of water by wordstruck/@redluxite Haikyuu!! | M | 6k | Iwaizumi/Oikawa | angst | Painful, soul-crushing heartbreak, but so, so beautiful. As someone who's experienced loss and grief, this story is visceral and the accompanying art haunts me.

Come and get lost with us by boxofwonder Haikyuu!! | M | 150k | Hinata/Kageyama, Daichi/Sugawara | action/adventure, Medieval AU(?) | unlike anything I've ever read before or since; a really masterful integration of an enormous cast and a plot that unravels with absolutely zero fluff or filler

shimmer in your shine by zenelly/@zenellyraen Hunter x Hunter | T+ | 91k | Leorio/Kurapika, Killua/Gon | American roadtrip AU | This story made me cry over a fist fight between Leorio and Illumi in the parking lot of a Red Lobster in Arkansas.

The Myth of Mankind by MistressEast/@mistresseast Promare | T+ | 63k | Galo/Lio | action/adventure, romance | masterful worldbuilding, kickass fight scenes, intrigue galore, falling in love while preventing mass murder? yes, please

A Second Chance To Say by KazimaKuwabara/@kazimakuwabara Yu Yu Hakusho | M | 92k | Yusuke/Kuwabara, Youko Kurama/Kuronue | action/adventure, hurt/comfort | ft. Kuronue's eternal sass and unwavering friendship, the slow burn of reincarnated already-in-love KuwaMeshi (because Kuwabara doesn't remember it), somewhat menacing levels of intrigue, and Hiei finally winning MVP of emotions on Team Urameshi

Don't Blink or You'll Miss It (Lift Up Your Head) by umisabaku/@umisabaku Kuroko no Basuke | M | 81k | Kagami/Kuroko, Kasamatsu/Kise, Midorima/Takao, Himuro/Murasakibara, Aomine/Momoi | super powers | This story and its accompanying series are so cool and so unique. The characterization is amazing and the worldbuilding is stellar.

neither fish, flesh, nor foam by twoif interactive on Twine Kuroko no Basuke | Kagami/Kuroko | angst, Little Mermaid–esque, interactive storytelling | incredible, but also devastating; a story about how sometimes our doubts can destroy not only ourselves but the good things we build; one of the coolest things I've ever interacted with as a story, a true tour de force

Transient Shadow, True Light by seafoamist/@seafoamist Kuroko no Basuke | M | 322k, WIP | Kagami/Kuroko | angst, hurt/comfort, time travel, historical (Edo Period) | If you talk to me about this story, I will go absolutely feral, because it is my current obsession and the only WIP that is on this list. I'm straight-up insane about its quality and depth. I can't even put this story into words. It knocks the wind out of me.

And lastly, my URL doesn't actually have a story behind it! It's basically just my life, haha. “Extant” is an adjective meaning “ongoing/still in existence” and “exhaustion” is pretty obvious. Essentially, I like alliteration and thought it sounded better than "tired 100% of the time."