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misshoneyimhome · 3 months

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I’m so glad requests are open again❣️ has anybody requested the innocent reader riding William in the locker room and potentially almost getting caught again? Plus Auston was curious how much she learned from William.

Hey darling! Nope, no one's brought that up before, but now that you have, I absolutely had to dive into it 😉

I mean, who can resist a bit of 3488 magic? 🤍 I'm not exactly hinting at a 3488 scenario, but I'm definitely not against it 🙈

And the locker room… oh yes! 😍🔥 I know you wrote "almost" which apparently my mind completely ignored... 🙃

Warnings; 18+ smut (don't know why I keep putting these warnings 🙈); oral sex (f and m receiving); semi-public unprotected sex;

Word count; 4.8K

[Inexperienced!reader x Willy]

・✶ ｡ﾟ

All good boys go to heaven - But bad boys bring heaven to you pt VI I William Nylander 🖋️⚡️

Everything just felt perfect. Being at William's flat, gradually turning it into your own place, felt more than just right.

Even though you had had your doubts about whether you were ready for it, as you stood in the kitchen enjoying a nice cup of coffee on this particular Tuesday morning, you felt more certain than ever.

William Nylander, your boyfriend, and now the person you shared a home with, went out of his way to make you feel comfortable moving in with him.

Before he’d left for the road trip, he carved out some space for you in the walk-in closet, even though most of it was already taken up by his numerous pieces of clothing and baggy style. His many shoes also claimed a big chunk of the space, but you managed to neatly arrange them next to yours. It looked quite amusing with his chunky Jordans beside your elegant heels and much smaller trainers.

And as you admired how your personal items were placed side by side, you felt confident in your decision.

However, you had also decided to keep your studio just for a little longer, just as a safety net.

It was no secret that you'd been hurt before. Your high school sweetheart may not have been the most adventurous in bed, but he sure knew how to charm other girls. And one day, it had become too much for you.

He was always out with his friends, and girls seemed to swarm around them. To be fair, most of them were quite attractive, and your ex, in particular, always looked flawless. And, it was his charm that had initially captivated you. The same charm he then used on every girl whenever he was out. Though he never actually cheated by sleeping with anyone else, the way he would sit closely with girls, have them in his lap, and enchant them all the way, eventually led you to break it off.

The breakup wasn't exactly pleasant, but you had every right to end it. To put it mildly, your girlfriends were more than supportive of your decision. Only a few sided with him, thinking you were crazy for letting him go. However, in retrospect, it was probably for the best that you weren't friends with those few anymore.

So, as you enjoyed your coffee, you took in the scene before you. The cute little doodles comfortably nestled in their baskets after the morning walk, and the sight of William's flat now being your home too.

It was quiet, with only the distant sounds of traffic several floors down, as you slowly prepared for the day. And while going through it all, you couldn't help but smile as you thought about how quickly you'd established a routine here. During the past week, you had spent every day at the flat, which felt a bit strange given that William was on the road. However, you had also simply enjoyed the time to truly get comfortable on your own.

Yet, despite being busy with work and hanging out with the other wives and girlfriends of the team, you were more than happy that he was now back home. So, Monday you had taken a lazy day on the sofa, having taken the day off to spend time with William. Although your boss wasn't always a fan of it, given that you always put in extra effort whenever William was on the road, he accepted your request for some flexibility.

Today, however, was just another workday for both of you. You would be at the office, and William would have practice all day. And then you'd meet back home in the evening.

It felt so homely, and the more you thought about it, the wider your smile became.

Meanwhile, at the training rink, William was putting all his energy into improving his skills. The road trip hadn't been his best, and he was determined to redeem himself, showing just how much he was truly worth.

And Auston, of all people, couldn't help but comment on his teammate's behaviour a little. As the two of them were the last ones to leave the ice, Auston stood by William at the bench and flashed him a content grin.

"Hey man, no need to punish the pucks like that," he chuckled with a friendly glint in his eye, prompting William to look up at him.

"Guess I just feel a little, you know, from the trip..." William shrugged with a soft smile.

"Yeah, don't we all... but hey, at least you had y/n to come home to."

William chuckled at Auston's comment, knowing that the Scottsdale boy had always had a certain curiosity about your relationship, especially the intimate part.

"Didn't really do much when I got home, was too tired," William smiled. "But then we didn't leave the condo all day yesterday, maybe only to walk the dogs, but other than that, we were in bed all day."

He couldn't suppress his smirk as he recalled yesterday and everything you did and didn't do.

"Only the bed?" Auston mischievously asked, raising his brows flirtatiously.

"Well... And the shower... and the sofa - maybe even the kitchen a little bit."

The boys shared heartfelt chuckles as William spilled the beans about your intimate activities.

Normally, he wouldn't go around sharing details like this, but for some reason, all the teammates seemed rather interested in your sexual life.

Perhaps it was because you’d openly admitted your lack of experience months ago, and knowing William well, all the players had their ideas about why both of you were so happy.

Besides, William did occasionally share a little. He couldn't help but boast just a bit as he mentioned how good the two of you were in bed together. And being single as well and not unfamiliar with the ladies, Auston also often shared his own experiences. It did sound more like conquests than intimate talks, but that's just how guys shared.

Not that you minded that William talked about you like this. Mostly because you also knew that you weren't just a girl he'd picked up for a casual encounter. You were in a committed relationship, so when he shared your intimate experiences, you knew he wasn't referring to you as just a piece of meat.

Especially with Auston, you found it a little amusing. He'd always been the one to poke fun about your sex life, wanting to know if you really were as sweet and cute as you appeared. Perhaps in the beginning, when you first got to know everyone, you were, but not so much anymore.

Not only had you explored various positions with William, but you also had intimate moments during a work meeting, in his childhood home with family around, and even ventured into anal play. You mastered the art of giving him mind-blowing head just as he excelled in orally pleasing you. The universe of bondage, dominance, submission, and light spanking was not left uncharted.

But, despite the array of experiences, there was still a world of possibilities to explore.

And, of course, Auston couldn't resist making a cheeky comment as the boys finished up in the locker room after practice.

"Well, sounds like she's good for you," he chuckled a bit too mischievously for William's liking. However, he brushed it off as typical boyish banter. "You know, you can always give her a private tour of the arena, if you dare," and with a cheeky wink, Auston left William to himself.

Although it was likely intended as a tease, William had a feeling Auston meant it. It wasn't the first time such a dare had been thrown around; in fact, it was often a dare spoken in the locker room as it was a mix of their home territory and the thrill of being caught at any time. Echoing noises through the halls would give away their position and activities, yet the boys found it alluring to show their partners a good time in the arena where they spent most of their time. However, most women didn't like the idea, primarily due to the smell of hockey equipment and sweat - and then the public nature of it all.

Returning from today’s training, William greeted you in the kitchen. Despite having a tiring day, you decided to unwind with a bit of cooking for you and your boyfriend.

And it was more than worth it when William wrapped his arms around your body, hugging you tightly as he kissed the back of your head.

"Well, hello to you too," you chuckled lightly, leaning slightly into his embrace as you tried to cut the last tomatoes.

"Mm, hello, baby," he mumbled into your hair. "Smells good."

You couldn't help but giggle a little.

"My hair or the food?"

"Both, and you..." he added as he placed soft kisses on your neck, gently nipping at your skin.

"Willy," you giggled. "I'm trying to cook here."

It was hard for you to concentrate on the tomato sauce you were making for the pasta and meatballs - Italian-inspired, as it was William's favourite.

"So? I'm hungry for something else…"

And as if you weren't in the middle of preparing your dinner, William had another idea for starters. With a swift move, he pulled you away from the kitchen counter, spun you around, and hoisted you into his arms. His strength was obviously greater than yours, and you surrendered immediately.

Then placing you on the large dining table, William wasted no time in discarding your trousers and unbuttoning your shirt. You weren't at work anymore, so your outfit didn't really matter. With an open shirt, your lingerie completely exposed, William squatted before you and came face to face with your core. Though you hadn't had time to build any sort of arousal, William's dominant moves had you instantly turned on, and your anticipation grew, expecting to be touched.

And you didn't have to wait long. William pulled down your fine panties, threw them across the room, and then tossed your leg over his shoulder, diving in for his first meal of the night.

"Oh, fuck, Willy," you breathed out as his tongue and lips made contact with your sensitive flesh. Your hands supported you on the table as you leaned back, allowing yourself to sink into the pleasure.

"Mmm, baby, my favourite fucking meal," he hummed into your core, sending sweet vibrations through your body before continuing his work.

William always made you feel incredible. You could talk about how he pleased you endlessly with your girlfriends, making them jealous of the man in your life who loved to give and always prioritised your pleasure over his own.

Not that William thought much about it. He just loved pleasing you like this. Perhaps it was the sweet sounds he created from you; he wasn't sure. He just loved the taste of your cunt and the way you squirmed under his touch.

The more you moaned and cried his name, the more turned on he got. He could feel his member growing firmer and twitching in his sweats as your breathing became uneven and your legs pressed onto him, signalling your impending orgasm.

You almost couldn't hold yourself together as William paid his undivided attention to your heat. And soon, you heard yourself whimper as you announced your orgasm about to peak.

So close to the edge, and knowing just how to push you over, William added his two long fingers, and only a few pumps were required for you to let out a deep moan and let yourself feel the orgasm course through your body.

William licked and sucked all the juices you offered him, flicking your clit a few times before he rose and pulled you in for a deep kiss.

"You always serve the best starters," he smirked against your lips, and you couldn't help but let out a chuckle.

"And what about my first course?" you asked with a sweet, almost innocent smile.

"It's all ready for you," William chuckled, before you hopped off the table and kneeled before him, pulling down his sweats and boxers, then taking his hard member into your mouth.

"Oh, yes, baby, that's it," William moaned loudly as he felt your warm mouth around him, skilfully coating him with your saliva and moving your head in steady motions.

And you did not hold back. As if William had turned on every button you had to offer, you felt hungry and eager to satisfy him. You let him in and out of your mouth as if you'd been starved for days, and his cock was the only meal you'd been offered. You effortlessly took him all the way down your throat, gagging just enough to make sounds before retreating and regaining your breaths.

"Shit, baby, do that again..."

And so, you did. Forcing yourself to relax the back of your throat, you let his length all the way in, causing your gag reflex to act before you had to pull back.

William saw stars as you did your little trick, something you admittedly didn't know you could do before now. But as he seemed to enjoy it so much, rolling his eyes back in his head, you naturally had to do it again.

"Hnfg... oh fu- I'm gonna come if you keep... mmm doing that."

His thigh muscles clenched under your touch, and you couldn't help but feel proud of yourself as you bopped your head a few more times, sucking him to your best abilities, causing him to let out an uncontrolled grunt and release his cum into your mouth.

Deep sounds escaped from the man above you as you made sure to clean and swallow every bit of his liquids, tasting the saltiness.

"Mmm, baby, you're getting way too good at this," William chuckled as he pulled up his pants, slowly regaining his breath as he came down from his high.

You flashed him a content smirk. "I didn't know I could get TOO good at it... but if that's the case, then I can just... not do it," you offered him a cheeky wink.

"Oh no, no! That's not what I meant," William quickly tried to defend as he watched you walk to the bedroom, where you changed into one of his large t-shirts and a pair of shorts to relax in. "I'm just saying that-"

"I'm giving you such good head that you'll never be able to leave me," you jokingly chuckled, returning your focus to the pot with boiling tomato sauce.

"Well, not that I'd ever leave you," William grinned, leaning against the kitchen counter. "But gotta admit that you're most definitely the best I've ever had."

And that sparked something within you. You? The best at this?

Oh, this definitely made your confidence peak.

Turning around, you flashed him a great smile. "Well, I guess just like you athletes need to stay on top of your skills by keeping on training and working hard, so do I."

"Oh yeah, you definitely need to keep up your talents," William eagerly agreed, nodding along with a teasing grin.

Pulling you in for a sweet kiss amidst the delicious smells of your cooking, you both couldn't suppress your joy. What could be better than this? A round of oral pleasure for starters, ensuring both reached an amazing climax, followed by the main course of a proper Italian-inspired dinner. And for dessert? That would have to wait until tomorrow since both of you were defeated by exhaustion and too much pasta.

Unfortunately, the following evening didn't start out as exciting.

Though your day at work had been just fine, having finished everything so you'd be able to leave in time for the game, it didn't go as smoothly for the Leafs.

The match against the Jets proved to be a long one. With no goals through three periods, it extended into thrilling overtime, where Auston finally settled the score with a goal after four minutes and thirteen seconds.

On a brighter note, Sammy had an amazing night. With a standing ovation for his 32 saves and no goals in the net, it was indeed a well-deserved night for him.

William, on the other hand, didn't manage to score a goal or make an assist; instead, he spent two minutes in the penalty box.

Yet, still, cheers filled the halls of the Scotiabank Arena as the players exited the locker room with smiles adorning their faces. Naturally, everyone wanted to secure a win in regular time; however, with the ups and downs the team had been facing lately, this was enough for tonight.

And as the clock ticked away and the hallway slowly emptied out, you found yourself strolling back and forth as you waited for your boyfriend to finish up. It wasn't uncommon for him to be one of the last ones, however, tonight he seemed to be taking a little longer.

So as the final players bid their farewells, you decided to walk into the otherwise forbidden area, as some of the partners would call it. And sitting on the bench in his little stall, William was still in some of his gear.

"You haven't even showered yet?" you chuckled, leaning in the doorway, and looking at your man.

William smiled with his overly smug face as he saw you standing there in your blue jersey, proudly sporting his number and name. Slowly making your way towards him, you cocked an eyebrow on the way.

"Yeah, sorry baby, I just skated a few rounds and shot some pucks... sorry I kept you waiting," he grinned up at you as you came to stand before him, your fingers finding his hair as you gazed down at him, while his hands found the back of your bare legs. His hands felt rough against them, as you'd decided to wear one of your skirts for work today and a pair of boots. However, while waiting, you played a game of mini hockey with Ashton and accidentally ripped your pantyhose.

"Hmm, guess you'll just have to make up for it," you returned his smirk, tracing your fingers through his sweaty hair. "In fact, coming to think of it... maybe we should introduce some punishment at home; like for every time you're late, or maybe when you get a penalty during a game." You teased with a confident smile.

"But then I wouldn't do anything else but getting punished," William chuckled.

"Oh, I did not think of that," you spoke sarcastically with a laugh, and before you knew it, William playfully pulled you into his lap and started tickling you, knowing it was the ultimate form of torture in your book. "Stop! Willy, stop," you almost shouted, and finally, he did, letting you breathe as you straddled him, your legs on either side of him, feeling your intimacy getting a little closer to his groin, which was unfortunately covered by his cup and boxers.

"Hmm, maybe I can already start making up for it now," he mischievously chuckled before leaning in for a deep kiss, letting his mouth gently explore yours as his hand found the back of your head, intertwining his fingers in your hair.

But you had to pull back.

"What... here? Willy, we can't," you expressed firmly, yet you couldn't help but feel your cunt tingle a little at the mere thought.

"Nobody's gonna know," he chuckled darkly, trying to reconnect your lips, but you avoided him.

"Seriously, anyone could walk in at any time..." you tried to argue, but it only seemed to fuel the fire in his eyes.

"Exactly," he merely spoke, and you knew there was no turning away from this. His determination to go all the way in the locker room, potentially on full display, was lit, and you couldn't help but feel turned on as well as he held a firm grip onto you.

Biting down on your lower lip, you met his fiery eyes with a seductive expression. "Alright... but you'll have to get rid of that first," you pointed out his cup, darting your eyes downwards.

And you didn't have to say that twice before he wiggled underneath you, not so elegantly removing the cup from his groin and tossing it behind him.

It was kind of hot, you had to admit that. The way he eagerly wanted you right there, right now, was making you crave him even more.

"Kiss me," he commanded, and naturally, you obeyed. Forcefully, you clashed your lips on each other, swiftly letting your tongues intertwine and mix saliva. His hand held a tight grip on your hair, as well as yours in his. Tugging and pulling his locks, air was stolen from your lungs, and you sensually grinded your intimacy into his slowly growing member.

It wasn't romantic nor gentle. It was hungry, passionate, and lustful. His hands found their way to your buttocks, where they held on and guided your motions, as William increasingly grew more eager to feel himself inside of you.

And as you felt his length hardening beneath you, you moved your hands down his torso, feeling his chest under your palms. You found the hem of his boxers and snuck your hand underneath the fabric.

William let out a moan as you took hold of his length, letting it grow firmer and firmer in your hand as you gently stroked his skin up and down. "Yes, shit baby," he breathed into the kiss, biting on your lower lip as you moved a little faster and held tightly onto his hard shaft.

You felt your own arousal intensify as his moans grew a little louder, his breaths uneven, and his grip on your buttocks tighter.

And just as you thought you had him under your control, William moved a hand between your legs. Gently sliding your lacy knickers aside, he let his finger explore your warmth. Rubbing your sensitive skin, the little bud of nerves, and then seeking out your entrance.

“Willy,” you moaned as you moved your mouth to his neck, tracing kisses up and down his jawline as you whispered to him. “More… I want more.” It almost sounded like a plea, but William didn’t care. He was so turned on that he simply granted your wishes, first inserting two fingers straight into your core. “Fuck, yes.” You moaned into his neck, trying not to sound too loud, while focusing on working his length.

It wasn’t easy to concentrate, as pleasure took over your mind, and both of you kept moaning under your breaths as you pleased each other.

Pumping his fingers in and out of you, William made sure you’d be able to take his cock, working your warmth to make you properly wet for him.

Your mouth returned to his, and you could feel the intensity build up within.

It was messy, with half of William’s gear still on, and your skirt folded up only enough to provide access to your warmth. And as you rode his fingers while giving him a hand job, you were completely forgetting about your surroundings.

“Baby, I want to be in you,” William huskily spoke, and you were more than willing to feel him too. Both withdrawing your hands, you then scooted a little, lifted yourself on your knees so you could line the tip of his cock with your entrance.

With William’s hands on your hips, you let yourself sink down, allowing his length to fill you up.

Moans harmonised as your walls hugged him entirely. And slowly, you began rocking your hips, William guiding your motions as his cock easily moved in and out of your warmth.

Your hands held a tight grip onto his shoulders to stabilise you as you found a steady rhythm.

William always felt so good, and riding him like this gave you a sense of power. However, as always, he wouldn’t want you to think that you were in charge. He was, after all, the dominant one in your relationship, and truth be told, you preferred it that way too.

His hands encouraged you to increase your speed, and so you did. However, it wasn’t exactly easy when William then moved his hand again, his thumb settling on your clit, and you kept moving your hips.

You felt the intensity of pleasure course through your body as he stimulated your inside and circled your clit, and you knew you could come anytime soon.

“That’s it, baby, keep going,” William spoke roughly, also feeling his climax approaching as your tight walls clenched around his throbbing cock.

And as you became more eager to reach the much-needed peak, you sped up, almost overstimulating yourself as you were so close to release.

“Willy, I’m gonna…” you announced your pending orgasm under your breath.

“Yes, baby, come for me…” William returned the husky grunt, his thigh muscles tensing as he was about to let himself surrender to a release as well.

You could almost feel how his hips wanted to thrust up against you, letting him hit you deeper as you moved. And as the tip hit your sensitive spot over and over again, you finally managed to ride yourself to climax. Letting out a loud moan, deep breaths, and clenching your muscles, you cried out as you surrendered to the pleasure.

Yet, William’s hand still guided you to keep moving, as he too let out a dark moan and filled you up with his release.

“Fuck, baby,” he grunted as you slowed down your motions, your tense grip gently releasing, and regaining control of your breathing.

You almost collapsed onto his body, feeling yourself pulsating, your head resting in the crook of his neck as you both slowly came out of your high.

And both of you couldn’t help but let out chuckles resting in this position, sharing a tender kiss before locking eyes in an intense stare filled with passion and content. Your fingers gently stroked through William’s wonderful, thick, sticky hair, as his hands rested on your buttocks.

Both of you felt sweaty from the activity as smiles adorned your lips, and you shared this heartfelt moment.

However, just as you were about to untangle from the position, a voice suddenly caught you off guard and made you jump in surprise.

“Can’t believe you actually did it.”

Promptly, you turned around, facing a smug Auston resting in the doorway with his arms crossed.

“Aus… what are you…” you mumbled breathlessly, while William merely let out small chuckles.

“Oh, please don’t stop on my behalf,” he added, not even caring about how you showed your embarrassment with rosy blushed cheeks. “I can stand guard if you need a second round,” he flashed you a cheeky wink before exiting the room and letting the door shut close.

You were completely frozen, baffled as you felt William’s cock getting soft under you, and his release slightly dripping from your warmth.

“Oh god,” you cried out, covering your face with your palms as your cheeks felt warm and red. “I can’t believe he walked in on us!”

Swiftly, you moved from your position, correcting your skirt as you stood with a hand to your forehead, considering the situation. But again, William just laughed. Rising from his seat as well, he began taking off the rest of his equipment with an overly satisfied smile.

“Don’t worry, babe, it’s just Auston,” William tried to comfort you, but it had absolutely no influence on you.

“Well, exactly! It’s Auston, our friend, who’d always been commenting on my sexual experience… and now he saw us! He’s probably going to tell everyone how we shagged in the locker room!”

“Well, if he doesn’t, I will,” William chuckled again, pulling up his sweats as he’d decided that showering now would be pointless. “Come on! It was really sexy.”

“Seriously?” you cocked an eyebrow. “You guys think sex in the locker room is sexy?”

“Oh yeah, and believe me, a lot of the guys will be jealous when they hear about it.”

William came in closer to you as he pulled you in for another kiss.

“Hmm… I kind of like making the guys on the team jealous of us,” you grinned with a smirk, thinking about it all.

“Is that so? Well, you definitely made Tony jealous, that’s for sure.”

William’s words hung in the air for a short moment as you stood in his arms and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Good – I want him, and all the rest, to know just how good you can make me feel.”

Your voice sounded overly seductive as the deep whisper escaped your lips.

“Oh, baby, I’m gonna fucking shout it to the world!”

With content smiles on your faces, you sealed the intense night with a deep kiss.

#18+#Inexperienced!reader x Willy #william nylander imagine #nhl smut #wn88 imagine #william nylander smut #nhl hockey imagine #toronto maple leafs imagine #SlutsforPresidentNylander

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ijuststareatstuffhereok89 · 1 year

Text

"Don't Touch Me" (Loki x F!Reader)

Summary: Cursed with the power of necrogenesis, you are held captive by the Avengers, who think you are too much of a threat to be allowed to roam free. When they decide to give you a chance to prove yourself, they entrust your care to Loki, who whisks you away to a safe house in New Asgard.

Pairing: Soft!Loki x Captive!Reader Content Warning: angst, comfort, smut (18+ ONLY), reader is a prisoner, Soft!Dom!Loki, narratophilia, magic bondage (soft), praise kink Word Count: 5.1k **Please reblog this if you like it! Thank you!**

Hours? Days? Weeks?

For all you knew, it had been a year since your capture.

Three years prior, you’d woken one not-so-fine morning to discover that everything died at the slightest touch of your finger. Whether it was a plant, animal, or person, nothing alive was safe from you. You didn't know how or why it was you, but the fact was: it was you. You went from normal insurance claims adjuster to reaper overnight. It was no small thing to get used to.

You shut yourself away, learned to make friends online and in other countries whom you would never meet in person, tell the pizza guy to leave it outside (money’s in the mail slot), and to put the idea that you;d ever meet a man out of your head forever. You had yet to kill a human, thankfully, but every day you felt the anxiety build within your chest as you knew that record couldn’t possibly remain ‘zero’ forever.

You were a monster. The best thing for a monster to do was to hide in its cave.

Yet, you’d managed three years of hiding, wearing leather gloves from the second you awoke to the second you went to bed (aside from in the shower, of course), and staying as far away from cities as you could. Perhaps, given how introverted you were naturally, you could live a quiet life in peaceful solitude. You were considering buying a cabin in the Appalachians, near a waterfall or a creek one day. It would be lonely, but at least you would be free and unafraid of accidentally killing someone who insisted on shaking your bare hand. The little town in Connecticut where you were keeping a low profile was close enough to NYC that you could see the light pollution on the southern horizon at night, and it would do for the time being.

Unfortunately, your time ended. A surveillance camera had caught an accident of yours in a local park, where one of your gloves had blown off and flown down a path, and in chase, you’d tripped and tried to grab onto a tree branch to stop your fall.

The entire tree came down behind you, barely missing your body, dead as if it had been dried up for centuries in the blink of an eye.

That tape had made it to the eyes of Nick Fury himself over the course of only a few hours. The Team moved in on you on a typical Monday morning, just as you pulled on your gloves, ready to leave the apartment for work. What else could you have done but pulled off your gloves in an attempt to defend yourself? Despite being unable to take out any of your assailants, of which there were four, you’d taken out half of the park’s greenery, and a few unfortunate pigeons that couldn’t get out of your way as you stumbled and desperately scrambled away from the archer, the one with scraggly hair, the red witch, and the birdman.

Before you knew it, you were subdued and wrapped up tightly so that none of your skin below your chin was exposed, and you were taken to a solid glass holding cell somewhere underneath a compound in the Hudson valley: the headquarters for the New Avengers Initiative.

You were fed through a trick door in the side of the 12 x 12 cell (not that you were particularly hungry at any point). You were never taken out or touched, only handed sanitary items through the door and told to shower through a water spout that hung from the ceiling after most of the lab team studying you went home. Dr. Banner gave you 30 minutes without cameras trained on you every day.

Not that it mattered much. You still sat there day in and day out, refusing to speak or answer any of the thousands of questions about your powers that you didn’t want to answer. You refused to eat, and you did little more than sleep or sit on the ground, staring off into the middle-distance.

You began to get weaker, and that was when you first saw your champion.

It was none other than Loki of Asgard, the god who’d torn New York City apart, then played an integral part in stopping the end of the world at the hand (quite literally) of a god much bigger than he. While the rumor was that he still wasn’t considered fully trustworthy, his role in saving humanity was apparently enough to give him a spot on the Avengers squad.

On the morning he’d come down to the cell to get a look at you, he appeared tired, a bit annoyed to be there. “And what do you want me to do about her?”

“She’s a villain, she’s got your…um…background,” said Dr. Banner. “Perhaps she’ll talk to you. She will likely die in a few weeks if this continues. Something has to give.”

“So you called me forth from my respite to show me your latest trophy? Do you think I would approve of you taking captive someone who won’t even speak her name?” he asked, sounding less impressed and more disappointed. “What makes you think she has ill intentions?”

Loki rounded a corner with Dr. Banner, and he was finally in your view.

Your first impression was that he wasn’t quite as intimidating as you’d expected him to be. He was tall, but you’d anticipated a figure at least half a foot taller than what strode up to your cage, dressed in a black leather tunic, trimmed in gold, and form-fitting black trousers of the same color, tucked into green knee-length boots. His hair was tied in a tail at the nape of his neck, and several strands in the front were loose, framing his angular face. His eyes were intense and focused singularly on you as soon as he got you in his sights.

“Did she try to kill you?” he asked, making a beeline for you, standing up along the glass, watching you with interest as if you were a zoo animal.

“She did put up a fight. She may not have super serum strength or anything, but you try apprehending someone who can stop your heart with a flick,” Banner explained.

“And I trust you explained to her what was happening, and gave her the chance to come quietly?” Loki inquired, smiling gently at you, making you turn your head away bashfully.

“Well, no,” said Banner sheepishly. “We were under the impression it wasn’t going to be on the table. According to our intel, absolutely anything she touches dies before it hits the ground, you understand.”

“It sounds as if you wouldn’t have known either way,” scoffed Loki, getting down onto his knee, bringing his eye level closer to the floor, closer to you. “And you all think I’m the bad one. At least I eventually called my sins what they were and changed my ways.”

Banner shrugged. “Well, I’ll leave you to it,” he said. “Maybe if you can get her to talk, we can consider getting her out of there.”

Loki nodded. “I will do my best, and I won’t treat her like a war criminal for defending herself in the process.”

The doctor left the god alone, dimming the harsh fluorescent lights, making the environment slightly more comfortable.

He smiled at you, and even though you knew he was in earnest, something about the sharpness of his grin, the unnatural whiteness of his teeth, gave him an air of sinister jest. You were still afraid to look him in the eye as he shifted around the cage next to where you leaned against the glass.

You heard three light taps by your right ear, making you flinch.

“Hello, there,” whispered a soft, deep voice. “Please don’t be frightened of me. I’m not frightened of you.”

You finally used your voice for the first time in ages, compelled to respond to your dashing jailer without even really thinking on it. “That’s because of the glass.”

“I’m sorry? These walls are thick, would you mind terribly speaking up?”

“The glass,” you repeated. “If we were on the same side, you’d be afraid of me.”

“Forgive me, Miss,” Loki replied, “But I’ve been told enough about you to pass judgment on that, and I say, you aren’t a danger.”

“But how can you tell?” you asked meekly, feeling a tear at the corner of your eye, quickly blinking it back. It was remarkable at how fraught your situation felt: it was enough to extract intense emotions out of every single word you said.

“Darling,” your ally leaned in, as if to whisper a gentle secret in your ear, “I trust my instinct. You look about as helpless as a gosling. I can see how the skin on your neck trembles.”

“I don't know why or how this happened. Please don’t expect answers,” you pleaded. “Please, tell them to let me go.”

Loki sighed and looked down. “My word isn’t, as of yet, in the best position here, though I am working on it, I assure you.”

“Please,” you said, the desperation in your voice losing intensity, giving way to an exhausted weakness. “Please, help me. I just want to live alone where I can’t hurt anyone. I won’t ever go looking for trouble, I swear--”

“--ssh, I know, pet, I know,” Loki said quietly. “Cease worrying. Loki will take care of you.”

Loki will take care of you.

The sentence, particularly its’ delivery, made goosebumps rise along your arms, although you felt them appear for a reason you didn’t quite find familiar at first.

He stayed with you for nearly twelve hours, taking his meals with you, talking gently about inconsequential matters to distract you from your circumstances.

When he was finally forced away so that you could have your evening shower, he turned back one last time before leaving. “I will always be back for you,” he vowed. “Y/N, you’ll be free by morning.”

For the first time since your arrest, you slept soundly, your angular, Asgardian savior filling your dreams with feelings of safety and love.

Loki had promised your freedom by morning. He was true to his word.

“Look, I don't exactly feel confident in letting you two go off into the wild blue yonder to cause havoc,” said the imposing Nick Fury, who, quite frankly, frightened the ever living hell out of you. “I was ultimately convinced,” he looked bitterly at Loki, who shrugged innocently, “but there are terms. If I get wind of either of you sneezing without permission, you both come right back here and get thrown into the motherfucking dungeon.”

“We don’t have a dungeon,” Loki mumbled, a smart-ass grin rolling across his face to try and break the tension. You smiled for the first time in a long, long while.

“Watch it, Laufeyson,” said Fury. “You’re the one sailing this boat. Don't sink it.”

Neither of you wanted to arouse his ire any further, so you decided to quietly slip away and out of the city, taking a quinjet being flown by Banner out to a place you’d never realized existed.

“New Asgard,” your handsome escort explained as you began your descent. “The survivors among my people settled here after the fall of our homeworld and the slaughter we faced when we tried to escape. There aren’t many. It is…regrettably…a bit spartan.”

“Better than that terrible cell,” you answered softly, barely audible. Loki, with the natural hearing of a god, still made out what you’d said, and he gently took your hand and gave it a squeeze, making your heart flutter when you looked into his promising blue eyes.

Indeed, the place was no bigger than a fishing village. In fact, that was essentially what it was. Even Loki scrunched his nose at the sight as you disembarked and let Banner fly off with the plane. Loki had never let go of your hand, and each of you had a small bag slung over your opposite shoulders.

“Welcome to New Asgard,” he said, a bit of disappointment lacing his tone. “We are going to be staying here until Fury sees fit to declare us tame enough to come home.”

You walked up a path to the small town square, every house basic in construction small in scale, and underwhelming in neighborly feeling. Most of the Asgardians were dressed in heavy knitted sweaters and boots and kept their heads down and eyes on their work.

“Weren’t you their prince?” you asked quietly. “Why aren’t they bowing?”

Loki sighed. “Our system of government has changed somewhat since relocating,” he said. “Also, the present King isn’t exactly fond of me.”

You decided to take things one moment at a time (there were too many conflicting emotions swimming in your head to warrant fixating on one anyway), and to let his cryptic comments go. You were going to be here for a long time, so perhaps it was best to let it go. Loki would open up to you in time.

You were nearly knocked over by two children running in chase around you as you meandered. Loki grunted, but remained soft for your sake. “We will need to inform these people, however, to mind themselves around you,” he said, holding back his annoyance.

“Even if it happened by accident, I couldn’t live with myself,” you mentioned.

Loki stopped you and scooped a hand under your chin, looking you in the eye with warm assurance that also had an air of dominance to it, almost like an attractive young school teacher, stern but also kind in his insistence for your obedience.

“Yes, you can, and that is why we are here together,” he said. “Please remember that we are here to help each other, and I am here to protect you.”

“It’s them that need protection from me,” you moaned, disheartened. “If it weren’t for the gloves…” you trailed off.

Loki shook his head and let you go. He tapped your glove. “These will be coming off. Today.”

“No!” you said quickly. “Please, Loki, don’t expose me to everyone like that.”

Your escort shook his head. “Let’s get inside and discuss this. I do believe rain is coming.”

He was correct. Just as the pair of you found your small hovel towards the far end of the shoreline, a chilly splattering of precipitation began to fall about you. Taking out a brass key, he brought you inside, taking your rucksack and tossing it by the bedroom door carelessly.

The cabin was one three rooms: a living room, a bedroom, and a kitchen barely big enough for two people to turn around in. The bathroom also hardly had enough room for a human-sized creature to stand comfortably, as it was about the side of a phone booth plus perhaps a few square feet. There were furnishings, but the sofas, chairs, and tables all look like they’d been scavenged from an old lady’s garage sale at best.

The bedroom only had one large bed, taking up most of the minimal space by itself.

You stood, stupefied, in the middle of the room as Loki observed. You kept your gloved hands close to your chest as you anxiously looked around.

“You may as well get comfortable while I make us some tea,” Loki suggested. “This miniscule cottage is our indefinite home.”

You sat quietly, refusing to move your hands as Loki set up a small tea set he found in the cabinets, taking the steaming kettle to your cup, and in a moment, the smell of peppermint filled your nostrils, putting you slightly more at ease.

He sat beside you, not touching anything on his side of the table, instead bringing the attention back to you once again. He was like an explorer discovering new territory; he needed to know everything about you.

“Pet, I will wait until you are comfortable removing them, but I would like to see them come off today,” he said, again with that attractive stern-but-kind tone that was beginning to make more than your heart flutter. “I would like to feel your skin on mine.”

“You wish to die, then. I can’t control it,” you said quietly, looking away.

“That’s merely because you were never given the opportunity to see if you could,” said Loki, absentmindedly holding out a hand, making you shrink back reflexively.

“Please, don't touch me!”

Loki quickly withdrew, giving you your space and shrinking toward the opposite end of the couch. You couldn’t help but notice he looked a little hurt. “I…I’m very sorry,” you apologized, hoping you didn’t scare off your guardian. “You’re wonderful, and I can’t be the one to take your life, even by accident,” you blurted out.

Loki bit his lip, looking at you again. “Wonderful?”

You nodded. “I believe you when you say you’re not afraid of me. But…I am, okay? I’m a monster.”

He sighed, thinking for a moment on what to say next. “I know monsters. I’ve met them, slain them…you are no monster.” His gentle words filled you with warmth. “And furthermore,” he continued, “I would allow you to touch me, barehanded, right here and now.”

“No.”

You felt his hand on your shoulder, lithe but steady. “The thing about magic, Y/N, is that no matter what form it comes in, what you see is never the complete picture. Any and all magic can be trained, whether to contain or expand.”

You twiddled your thumbs nervously. “I don’t even know where this came from, so how can I know what the key is to controlling it?”

“Willpower,” Loki said, matter-of-factly. “It’s simply how any magic works.”

Loki had stealthily shifted so that your outer thighs were touching, and you were more than a little aware of it. Then, you looked up at your helper just as he brushed a strand of hair away from your brow, tucking it behind your ear, making you sigh a little.

“Ms Y/N, am I startling you?” he asked. “I don’t want you feeling ill at ease with me.”

You didn’t reply.

“If I had to be sent out to a wooden box in the middle of a Norwegian mud pile, I must say I could not have found a more exquisite creature to share in my exile,” he whispered. “I only hope my saying so isn’t too forward.”

“It isn’t,” you answered bashfully. “Loki…I haven’t thanked you yet for what you’ve done for me. And…I think I know how I want to.”

It was as if Loki could read your thoughts, for it was here that he leaned in for your first kiss. You were timid at first, but seeing as it was your escort who initiated contact, you had nothing to worry about, so long as he remained the one to make the first move.

As you pulled apart, you went to remove your cardigan, but you felt Loki’s hand press against yours from through the leather glove you still wore.

“It is your own soft flesh I want feeling my muscles, your fingers I want exploring every part of me,” said Loki. “I have given you every dignity I could throughout this process, but if you cannot give me this one, we cannot--”

You whimpered, and Loki instantly regretted his words. “Y/N, I apologize!”

Shaking your head, you looked at him again, letting your lips perk up at the corners. “You’re right. And, although this has never happened to me before, I don’t want to…to miss out, you know? I just…what if I touch you in the wrong way by accident? If I jump or get nervous?”

Loki smiled. “If you’d really like to, I have an idea. Let me guide you along the way.”

“How?”

“I’ll simply communicate with you. Use my words to describe every gentle move I make. Would that suit you enough to give this a try? I must confess, with each passing moment, I just want to hold you more and more, and listen to your sweet cries--”

“--I…but…”

“There is one more thing we can try,” Loki suggested, brushing your eyebrow with his thumb before laying a sweet, shallow kiss on it. “I can bind you with magic. Softly bind you, so that if you needed to move away, you could, but the weight would be enough to keep you from inadvertently brushing against me with every twitch of pleasure I give to you.”

You felt a hot blush run up your face as the desire laced in between his words filled you with need.

“Wait…”

You took a deep breath and shut your eyes, tugging at the very tip of the ring finger of the glove on your right hand.

Loki ran a thumb across your hot cheek. “You must be brave. I believe in you.” His goddamned touch nearly made you break your concentration, but you were still able to slowly, gently, cautiously, pull off the glove, setting it on the table with a trembling hand.

“If this doesn’t work, I’ll die,” you said, your voice quaking.

Loki was smiling with enough confidence for you both. “There won’t be a need, pet.”

You raised your hand, keeping your eyes focused on Loki, who sat up straight, the kind, empathetic look in his eyes never wavering. If he was in fact nervous, he was a brilliant actor, because you were getting no impression that he felt any sort of peril in the moment.

Finally, you found enough courage to lift your bare hand and bring it in the general direction of your guide. For his part, Loki still did not flinch, even when you felt as if you were about to foolishly commit a murder.

“Loki, I’m sorry if this doesn’t work,” you said meekly, trusting your arm forward before you could change your mind, and closing your eyes.

You felt his cool skin make contact with the pads of your fingers after landing on his left cheek. You didn’t immediately open your eyes, instead waiting for the sound of a body hitting the floor, the sound of a final breath being forced out of the lungs, or the sensation of Loki’s skin going unnaturally cold.

The only thing you felt after several moments was a second set of fingers gently settling over your hand. You opened your eyes, and the tender sight of Loki holding your palm against his skin, his eyes closed as he genuinely savored your touch, was all you saw, and you suddenly felt fifty pounds lighter.

“Oh, Loki…” you sighed in relief. “You’re still here.”

“You don’t want me to die, and thus, I haven’t. Just as I said, yes?”

You smiled and slowly took your hand back so that you could remove your other glove, and with another quick breath, you placed each hand on each of Loki’s, curling your fingers in between his. “Still alive!” you said with a small smile as you finally began feeling at ease for the first time in three long, chaotic years.

“More alive than ever, little princess,” Loki said, leaning over and rewarding you with a longer, deeper kiss. It went electricity down your core, radiating down your legs. You were finally allowed to feel your yearnings, and now, tonight, you could finally act on them. You certainly couldn’t think of a more beautiful, gentle, sexy partner to give yourself to than Loki.

“I think I’m ready for you,” you whispered. “I…I really want you, Loki. You’re the first being to show me such tender kindness, especially after I became a ‘reaper.’”

Loki chuckled without breaking his seductive demeanor. “Is that what you call yourself? Well, princess,” he said, gracefully pulling you off of the sofa to your feet, “the only thing you shall be reaping are the rewards of your obedience to me.”

Smiling, thrilled at the sexy shift to Loki’s tone, you nodded. The god asked, “Y/N, we know your touch won’t destroy me, but would you still like for me to bind you?”

“Yes.” You weren’t agreeing solely out of fear for Loki’s safety, not any more. “Please, an..and please talk to me, too.”

“With pleasure, princess. You were so brave for me, you’ve earned it,” Loki said slowly, leading you to the large, simply-constructed bed and shutting the door behind him. “Now, lie down, no need to remove any clothes.”

You obeyed without a word, which pleased your bodyguard as he stood, towering over you as you lay supine on the mattress. “Good girl,” he said melodically, the voice warming your core, smooth as butter and low as a gentle hum. He snapped his fingers, and with a quick wipe of green mist, both of your clothes fell instantly away, and he now stood before you entirely naked, and you splayed before him similarly.

“My, your skin radiates with warm beauty! Raise your arms out and to the side, or whatever position you would feel best.” You did so, again, without a word, taking your wrists and laying them out at an angle, making your breasts pull apart from one another and creating a gap in between them.

He waved his hand and snapped again, and you felt your wrists go heavy, as if a sandbag was weighing them down. You could move them a little, and you got the feeling you could twist yourself free if needed (not that you wanted to), but you were still securely on the bed, pinned at the wrists and ankles, your legs spread apart, exposing your quickly-wettening pussy to the air as well as your partner.

Loki moaned with approval. “Now, if you need me to lift these, please say so. Understood, lovely?”

You nodded. “Yes, Loki. I’ll do anything.”

Loki looked thoroughly satisfied at your answer. “Oh, you are so obedient! A natural submissive,” he said happily. “It is fortune’s highest blessing to be sharing a bed and home with you tonight…”

He lowered himself over the bed. “May I climb over you and look down upon my conquest?”

You nodded. “Yes, Loki.”

He climbed between your legs, kneeling up between them, his solid, chiseled torso towering above you, intimidating you the perfect amount to thrill you. “Now, I’m going to nibble on that darling little space you have right…here…”

He lowered his head between your breasts, using tongue and teeth to stake his claim on your skin, leaving tiny marks that only nipped a little as he worked his glorious sex magic on you. Every nip, lick, and moan from him made your folds wetter, heavier, needier.

“Y/N, I’m going to touch you now, in this sensitive spot between your legs,” Loki narrated. “I won’t put a finger inside your passage, but I am going to enjoy drawing little figures between your lips and pinching your pleasure bud. And you are going to writhe under me, increasingly needy as pleasure builds up, throbbing for my release…”

You gasped in pleasant surprise as he almost immediately took a hand and inserted two exploratory fingers between your folds. “Norns, my girl is dripping with desire for me. My good girl wants to please her savior!” He pressed his erection against the inside of your thigh as if to display with pride how quickly he’d been turned on by how you were grinding your hips, bucking against his hand.

His silky sweet words echoed in your brain, delirious with arousal. You wanted him to sing these narrations to you over and over. His rich, deep voice was almost enough to send you over your edge. Every word, every action he took, drove you crazy with delightful ache. He fiddled with your clit like it was a tiny marble between his thumb and forefinger, and every flick or twitch of it made you moan and pull against your invisible restraints just enough to feel helplessly anchored in place.

“Y/N, you are so wet, so ready for me already,” he moaned. “I can’t wait any longer. I’m going to fill you with my cock, and you’ll feel your walls stretching around me as I enter you--”

True to his word again, Loki took himself into his palm, positioning himself above you, his tip at your entrance, then, gently, slowly, he thrusted forward, and you felt a slight pinch as he claimed your cunt. Indeed, it felt like every cell inside you had to stretch in order to sheath Loki’s god-sized cock, but the little bit of pain you felt in the moment was quickly washed away in the violent shudders of pre-orgasm tremors that were already reaching critical mass in your core.

Loki arched his back, immediately growling in pleasure as he began thrusting, picking up tempo, sliding up and down your slickened walls with just enough friction to urge him to the edge quicker than he anticipated.

“Damn, but I’m coming…”

You were close, and you knew he wouldn’t be able to hold out for you much longer. “How hard are you coming?” was the smutty question you chose to coax his orgasm from him. “Tell me please! What does it feel like being inside me, Loki?”

Loki grunted animalistically as he concentrated. “You’re milking my cum from me, girl, you’re about to be so full of my seed--”

With the help from his narration, you finally felt your orgasm thunder down your passage and shake your thighs, pushing a high-pitched whine from you as your mouth fell open and your eyes slammed shut.

“Ah! There she is! My good girl!”

Loki’s fall almost immediately followed, marked by four remarkably hard thrusts as he came inside you, his breath heavy and quick. He brought a hand down to your clit and gently massaged it as your orgasm poured out into the open.

“Yes, ride it out with me, that’s my girl,” Loki purred.

Once you both were spent, Loki took your magic bonds off of you. It was still light outside, but you both agreed you were exhausted from your romp, and that perhaps an hour’s nap before supper would be welcome. Still naked, you both went underneath the covers, Loki turning onto his stomach so that he could rest his head under your arm, using your shoulder as his pillow.

“For as long as we are here, you will have nothing to be afraid of, pet,” your lover promised.

“Nothing?” you asked hopefully, already knowing that the strong, wonderful god in your arms was going to protect you for as long as you needed him.

“Your death touch, you have nothing to fear, for it brings me to life,” he whispered softly in your ear. You sensed he was nodding off, and sure enough, with that, his head fell on your shoulder, his breath settling into a softer, quieter rhythm.

Loki will take care of you…

You took a hand and began combing it through his hair, once again enjoying the old-but-new sensation of something other than leather against your fingertips.

@lokisgoodgirl @sarahscribbles @xorpsbane @mischief2sarawr @mochie85 @muddyorbs @michelleleewise @joyful-enchantress @fictive-sl0th @lady-rose-moon @coldnique @chantsdemarins @glitterylokislut @kellatron55 @holdmytesseract @holymultiplefandomsbatman @peachyjinx @trickster-maiden

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archerinventive · 6 months

Text

Happy Makers Monday!

With the 2023 faire season officially coming to a close, I'm really excited to focus more on the workshop and all the new products coming to the store next year.

Here are a few photos of a couple items that went out to their new adventurers recently. :) I always love the custom requests, and getting to spend my time painting stars. Thank you all. ❤️

While the faire booth may now be closed, you can acquire your own custom item through the only shop here.

https://www.etsy.com/shop/ArcherInventive

Now it's back to the workshop, to get orders out, and to the vast collection of images gathered over the season that need sorting so that I may share them with all of you. ^^

Wishing you all a wonderful week. :)

Stay magical, and stay safe. ❤️

#makers monday #happy makers monday #handmade #leather goods #mushrooms #garden decor #stars #handpainted #bracers #dagger #crystal #mage wear #barbie #pink

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2024-grimoire-challenge · 2 months

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February week 1

Energy Work

This next few weeks we are going to be dealing with rather a lot of definitions and new pages. These definitions can either all go on one page so that you have a sort of dictionary of your own within your grimoire, or you can leave the pages separate and have each definition on each separate page.

Lab notebook/ new page- Definition - what is Energy Work? How do we incorporate it into our craft? How does it work?

New page - Visualization- what is visualization? What does it actually mean and how does it work? What is its purpose and how do we do it? How do we practice getting better at it?How does it work and help us within the context of our craft?

New page- Energy Manipulation -start with the basics and work your way deeper into it. How does one sense energies? See them? Feel them? How does one begin to manipulate them? What methods are used?

Monday

Grounding - define grounding within the context of energy work. What is it? How do you do it? What forms are there? What is the purpose of grounding? How does it help us in our craft? What herbs, gems and tools are associated with grounding?

Charging - define charging within the context of energy work. What is it? How do you do it? What forms are there? What is the purpose of it? How does it help us in our craft? What herbs, gems and tools are associated with charging?

Centering - define centering within the context of energy work. What is it? How do you do it? What forms are there? What is the purpose of it? How does it help us in our craft? What herbs, gems and tools are associated with it?

Research- pick another herb off your list! Find out as much information as you can. Mundane and magical, historical too!

Tuesday

Sending, receiving - is it possible to send and receive energy? How is this done? What purposes does this serve? How do we use it in the context of our craft? What associations does it have?

Raising - Define raising energy. How does one raise energy? What is the purpose of raising energy? How do you perform it?

Channeling - Define it. What is energy channeling? How does one do it? What is the purpose? How does it work and help us in the context of our craft? What are some associations for channeling?

Wednesday

Astral work - Define astral work. What is it? How is it done? What are various methods? What is the purpose? What are some things associated with it? What is its history?

Energy fields - Define it. What are energy fields? How do you sense them? Can you manipulate them? How do you sustain them? What sustains them? What do we do with them?

Research - pick another gem or other magical item/ component/ ingredient and research as much as you can about it!

Thursday

Replenishing - How does one replenish their energy? What are the methods you use? When and or how often do you do it?

Sensing - how does one sense another person’s or another source of energy? Are there different methods? Are there tools that can help? What all things can you sense energy in?

Friday

Meditation - what is meditation? There are various philosophies and techniques. If you prescribe to one, which is it? How do you accomplish it? What is the purpose of your meditation or meditation in general? Are there tools that help you meditate?

Auras - what are auras? Define them. What do they look and feel like? How do you sense them? Can you manipulate them?

Dream Work - What is dream work? Lucid dreaming isn’t the only way to work with dreams. What methods of working with dreams are there? Do you journal your dreams? What are dreams, to you?

Phew!!

We made it. That was a lot of definitions this week! The next couple weeks will have a lot of definitions! Along with the normal prompts. Again all of this is just meant to inspire research and creative thinking as well as actually inspire creative decoration ideas and organization for our grimoires! Don’t feel obligated to do it all week by week. The challenge will stay up after the year is over so we can all look back and utilize it!

-Mod Hazel

#2024 grimoire challenge #grimoire #grimoire challenge #paganism #witchcraft #witchblr #2024 gc #book of shadows #dark academia #occultism #grimoire inspiration #grimoire prompts #grimoire idea #witchy challenge #witchy book #witchy challenge stuff

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modelbus · 1 year

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streamer!reader who doesn’t like spending money on themselves x tommy who loves to spoil his gf

The man who refuses to spend money on himself spending it all on his gf… I like it.

Pairing: CC!Tommy x Fem!Reader

Spoiled Streamer

You aren’t sure why he’s like this.

Tommy won’t even spend money on himself! His biggest purchase was a hundred-dollar lightsaber he adores, and even then he still calls it stupid that he bought it. All signs pointed to him being a stingy motherfucker.

So why, exactly, did he buy you practically everything you use to stream?

God, if only you had the answer.

He just walks in, chucks something at you, then walks out. Sometimes it’s small, a thing of your favorite candy or a stuffed animal. Other times it’s the three-hundred-dollar headset that’s been sitting in your cart for months.

It’s not that you don’t love the gifts, or that you don’t appreciate them, it’s that you can only allow him to buy you so many things before you start protesting. Really, you don’t need anything he gives you! You keep it all, obviously, but still.

And it’s impossible to hide from your viewers. Once, you mentioned wanting a lava lamp on stream. After a moment, you had stated you’d never actually buy one, considering how you just never seemed to get around to it.

So how the fuck were you meant to explain the lava lamp that appeared next stream?

Tommy isn’t even trying to hide the fact he’s spoiling you to death from your fans. He threw a stuffed animal of your favorite Minecraft mob at your face on stream! On three separate occasions!

So you might’ve started fighting with fire. He gives you a random mousepad? You give him a set of raccoon stickers. For some insane reason, you thought it would genuinely work.

Instead, you started a war.

On this fine Monday morning stream, you’re anxiously awaiting him to discover your latest comeback to him buying you a whole goddamn shelf. Not one, not two, but three giant Lego sets.

He’d probably be so in awe that he wouldn’t even strike back. It was the perfect plan! So, you weren’t too worried about him interrupting your stream. Until he does.

“How did the sheep escape again?! Where are they getting out?!” You scream, waving your hands fiercely at the screen. It was like magic! You look away and they're all over your house!

“Hey!” Tommy exclaims, popping his head into your streaming room. He’s holding two bags, and you sigh.

“Hi, Toms. What’s up?”

“So, Wil was talking to me ages ago about back support or whatever. I completely forgot about it until today, Y’know?”

“Uh-huh…” you’re not sure where this is going exactly, but you have an idea.

“So I bought you a back pillow for your chair!” He exclaims, holding the item up.

“Tommy!”

“It’s for your health! And I bought myself one too!”

Oh, if he bought himself one, then it was fine. It wasn’t part of his spoiling war. You didn’t know when he started caring about back support or posture or anything, but maybe it’d actually be helpful. Especially because of how bad his posture was.

“Oh, and you know the gaming chairs we were looking at?”

“Weeks ago?”

“Yeah, I bought you that one you liked. It’ll be here in two days; I got the fast shipping.”

“The one I- Tommy!”

“Bye!”

He waltzes out, shutting your door behind him and leaving you gaping. The chair he was referring to was about the same price as the three Lego sets you bought him. And it was a single chair!

This was absolutely ridiculous, and you aren’t afraid to voice that to your stream.

“I can’t fucking believe this.” You groan. “I don’t need a new chair! Fucking insane! He’s fucking insane!”

Secretly, you’re just a little excited. It was a really nice chair, okay?!

“What do you guys think? Why are you all laughing? Stop! Stop laughing at me!”

You stop reading chat, fighting the smile that wants to show at the messages. Because even you have to admit: Tommy spoiling you? It’s sweet.

But you can’t let that show, you have to play up your act. So you flit your eyes back to your screen and what you were doing originally. It wasn’t like you could fight Tommy on the chair, he was quite the stubborn person.

“My sheep!” You cry out, realizing even more escaped. “No!”

“Oh, forgot these!” Tommy exclaims, opening your door just to throw a box of candy at you then shut it.

“Ah!” You exclaim, barely managing to catch it. “TOMMY!”

From outside the door, you hear him laugh.

#tommyinnit imagine #tommy mcyt #tommyinnit #tommyinnit x reader #dsmp tommy #tommyinnit x you #mcyt imagine #mcyt #dsmp #tommy innit #tommyinnit mcyt #tommyinnit dream smp

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 4 months

Text

Just another manic Monday

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 17

Prompt: Platonic Stobin

Rated: G

CW: monsters

Tags: Urban fantasy AU; Magic AU; Creature AU; background Steddie; background Buckingham

Notes: Based on an idea and the gorgeous art by @house-of-the-moving-image - so happy I got to throw a little something together for it. 🥰

“I don't understand this,” Steve yells, jumping over another garbage bag like a hurdle sprinter. “That thing is fucking huge, where was it even hiding?”

“Gee, I dunno, Steve!” Robin skids to a halt beside him and impatiently hops from foot to foot while he pulls out their scooter from between two dumpsters. “I didn't ask, you think we should wait up?”

Somewhere behind them, something lets out a loud, gargling roar. A giant body scrapes against the walls of the alley.

Steve gulps.

“Nah, I'm good,” he says and tosses her the egg. It's larger than his own head, and Robin sags briefly under its weight. “Get in!”

Sometimes, Steve really, really wishes he was normal.

In a world where ninety-seven percent of the population are either magic users, non-human, or hybrids, people like Robin and him tend to get the short end of the stick. Take the job market, for example. What's a guy to do if most entry-level positions require basic flight skills, or rudimentary knowledge of summoning spells, or two years minimum of experience in applied runology?

The job at Fleetfoot Delivery is actually okay, all things considered. The pay is decent, the uniform isn't completely humiliating, and his coworker is his best friend and platonic soulmate who happens to be just as lamely human and completely unmagical as himself.

It's easy work. Customers trade items via the app, Steve and Robin deliver the goods from the pickup location right to the lucky new owner.

Basic stuff.

Simple.

Boring.

Except for the days you get chased by giant fucking monsters.

“Who even sells a phoenix egg online?” he asks while he waits for Robin to clamber into the side car. “I mean, shouldn't we be calling child protection services or something?”

“Phoenixes are extinct, Steve, everyone knows that!”

He hums vaguely. He does know that, of course, but the question has its desired effect - namely to send her off on a tangent and get her mind off things.

“The eggs that are left are infertile, but they're highly coveted in certain circles. Rumor has it that consuming one will boost your magic like nothing else. Chrissy says there's a sea witch living off the coast who's been looking for one for-”

“Chrissy, huh?” Steve grins and swings a leg over the saddle. The scooter stutters to life. “The cute little mermaid with the milkshake order from last week? You two on first-name terms now?”

“Oh, fuck off!” Robin jabs him in the ribs, but quickly clutches the egg again as he needs to swerve around a stack of old, soggy cardboard boxes. They're picking up speed, but not nearly enough in the crammed, narrow alley. Behind them, the roaring and scraping are getting louder. “You don't get to berate me for flirting with clients. If I see you do that ass-wiggle in your stupid shorts in front of that dragon dude one more time-”

“His name is Eddie,” Steve snaps, neck erupting in heat. “And I don't think he has any idea what my first name is. Or my last name.”

“Yes, Steve, of course,” Robin deadpans. “That is why he calls you big boy and honey and sweetheart. That is the actual reason.”

Steve lets this statement simmer for a few seconds.

“Shut up and tell me where to deliver this thing,” he then says.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Robin smirk while she fishes her phone from her pocket and tells him the address.

“Oh, freaking great,” Steve grouses. “That's only on the other side of town. Won't take forever at all at this-”

“Steve?” says Robin. Her hand is tugging at the sleeve of his uniform jacket, like she's been trying to get his attention for a while. “Steve, you may wanna go faster.”

“I know!” he groans. “Need to beat rush hour, or we won't be home until-”

“That's not what I meant!” Robin shouts. Her voice goes all shrill and grating towards the end, and he almost crashes them into the wall in his impulse to cover his ears.

“Well, what do you-” he starts to say, but doesn't get any further.

There's a loud crashing sound as the dumpsters are mowed over. He glances over his shoulder, just long enough to see a slimy, clawed something that's roughly the size of his house erupt from the alley behind them. It shrieks. The rush of hot, stinking breath sends garbage flying in all directions. A fist-sized glob of spit hits the back of Steve's head with a wet splotch.

“Ugh, what the fuck? I just washed my hair this mor-”

“Drive!” Robin slaps his arm. “Oh my God, drive, drive, drive!”

Steve does.

They shoot out of the alley and onto the main road, just narrowly avoiding a collision with a flock of banshees. As their scandalized shrieks and the roar of the monster fade behind them, Robin's wristwatch buzzes.

“Oh,” she says. “Today's your lucky day. A certain dragon just ordered an entire crate of aventurine, express delivery.”

Steve groans and takes a right, reaching up to disentangle half a banana skin from his drool-coated hair.

The day is shaping up to be a real Monday.

All my holiday drabbles

#platonic stobin #platonic soulmates stobin #Steve Harrington #Robin Buckley #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #buckingham #robin buckley x chrissy cunningham #robin x chrissy #steddie holiday drabbles #steddieholidaydrabbles #hype's holiday drabbles

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nailsofvecna · 6 months

Text

Adventure in style with this high-performance bedroll! It's not only unbelievably light and incredibly durable; it also folds up small enough to fit into your coat pocket!

#magic item monday #d&d 5e #homebrew #magic item

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chromegnomes · 1 year

Text

MAGIC ITEM MONDAYS #2: Curse Test Dummy

#magic item mondays #ttrpg #old school essentials #osr

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wizardraziw · 11 months

Text

Hello, students!

It has been some time hasn't it? Well, I come to you to a small lesson. Today we will be learning about innate magic. You may find that your magic differs from others, even if you are in the same classes and magic group. Well, here could be an explanation as to why...

If you are born...

On a Monday:

Mondays are the tough beginnings. You are born stronger and more resilient than others. You may find that your body is more durable to your magic, and you can recover faster than others from fatigue and can be back in the battle within hours.

On a Tuesday:

Tuesdays are an insightful day to peer into the rest of the week. You are born more perceptive than others. You may find that your mind is naturally perceptive to magic. You can vaguely sense magic types from other users, but it gets a bit confusing with multiple mages in an area.

On a Wednesday:

Wednesdays are the the quietest day of the week. They are in the background and often forgotten. You are born more cloaked than others. You can blend in the background and hide your aura from others naturally. You may find yourself being more observant, seeing things that others may not whilst under the cover of secrecy.

On a Thursday:

Thursdays are the days of promise and hopefulness. They are sanguine and opportunistic. Your magic is a bit more wild than others, but it can lead to promising situations with unexpected power. Your body is more adaptive to controlling your wild magic.

On a Friday:

Fridays are the days of relief. They feel revitalizing. Your magic is naturally explosive and powerful in short bursts. Your body is more capable of storing up magic energy to release all at once in a powerful blast. It may take time to charge up, but if timed correctly it can be very useful.

On a Saturday:

Saturday are the days of tranquility. Your magic is naturally fluid and talented. You have a better grasp over your magic and can find ease with understanding other magic types. When using a magic item, your magic is more concentrated and skillful than others. You also may find that outside magic is naturally drawn to you like a beacon, good or bad.

On a Sunday:

Sundays are the days of persistence and preparedness. Your magic sometimes has a mind of its own, making it harder for others to surprise you. Your magic may do things subconsciously, doing tasks for you before you think to do them. It is useful, but unpredictable.

Well, this concludes today's lesson! Good luck students. And um...the magic infirmary is on the second floor if you need it...haha...

#magic:lesson

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sixshotsinatumbllr · 3 months

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Rating Good Omens Characters by whether I would employ them in my IRL cafe or not.

Aziraphale: 100% would employ. He'd be on service, taking orders and running them out. Also, we have a small retail book corner, which I am currently failing at making work, so Aziraphale can also get that going (he'd be great at sourcing books, not so great at selling them). He is not allowed to perform his magic act though, which makes him sad. Sorry Azi.

Crowley: Absolutely yes. That (infernal being) knows their coffee. The ywould be a shit-hot barista. Sadly, they get fired after a week because the only person in my life that is snarkier and grumpier than Crowley is my husband (the actual owner of the cafe, I'm just along for the ride). They get into too many arguments and Crowley quits majestically. But we really appreciated the handful of times they yeeted someone off into another dimension when they were difficult customers.

Nina: Obviously. She has the experience for the job (unlike probably all the other characters); and she has the personality for it. She'd be the one that gets all the good gossip from the customers and be able to handle it be stupid busy. She'd be our number one reliable employee. My husband and Nina would also fight and snark but they'd both feel refreshed by it.

Gabriel: NAH.

Jim: Also NAH, but we'd probably put him on for a week of work placement through a job placement agency to help him out a bit, because he clearly needs it. Unfortunately, he becomes a liability because he drinks too many hot chocolates on shift and that costs us too much in stock.

Beezlebub: I'd really like to, but the council food inspector won't allow it with all the flies that come with zir.

Famine: I think Famine would be a food rep. These people come around from food wholesalers to introduce us to new products. A lot of these seem pretty questionable. I reckon Famine's taken Ciao on the road after the Notpocalypse for something new to do. He's a very polite and enthusiastic rep, but we politely decline his products. The following week, a critical potato shortage hits the market and we have trouble sourcing good quality chips, a key menu item in the cafe.

Furfur: I wouldn't give him a job even though he appears to have a solid set of organisational skills, because he personally irritates me. But then he becomes a regular customer, coming in for a large cap everyday, pays in the low-denomination coins, takes up an entire table of six for two hours, and then asks for a bag of coffee to be ground in the middle of the lunch rush.

Maggie: she'd be in charge of the playlist. (at least, after Crowley quits in a fury, up until then he'd hogged the spotify and dictated all of the music- and miracles it to continue even when he's not on shift. There's slightly less Queen than there is on our playlist currently). She'd be a day barista one or two days a week. I reckon Maggie and Aziraphale would be the Monday server/barista duo.

Every now and then, the playlist gets possessed for a few hours and none of us can do anything about it but let it pass and see what Crowley's digging musically these days.

The Metatron: Absolutely not. In fact, he's banned from coming within 500 metres of us and our oat milk supply.

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens au #anthony j crowley #aziraphale #gomens #cafe #i am so bloody proud of this post #I have like a dozen more of these planned

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soleilnomoon · 2 years

Note

My friend, I heard it's the cool thing to leave things in your inbox and I want to be like the cool kids so here I am. How about a scenario with Kurosaki Ichigo trying to convince S/O to ask HIM out instead of him just doing the asking out himself? It can be whatever you want it to be: comedy, romance, fluff, smut. The choice is yours *finger guns*

sora... love of my life, light in my eyes, wind beneath my wings, etc. etc. etc. u have been so patient, and i'd apologize but u already know what kind of drama this fic put me thru!!! anyway!!! this was a labor of love (as always) yk i only ever want the best for u bbgorl 🥰️🥰️🥰️

5.9k words (DONT LOOK AT ME OMG), fem reader, nsfw, 18+, mdni; there's fluff i promise (who am i), angst bc why not, mutual pining, and smut; ichigo... is a dumbass, and i like seeing him suffer; i also like seeing reader suffer; a wild orihime appears! and some other miscreants. feat. cute things like: hair pulling, slight exhibitionism (shhh), oral (m receiving), dry humping, kIsSiNg, idk alcohol but a tiny bit; ichigo is down bad ok, idk what to tell u; reader is also down bad but she thinks she's being stealthy abt it. (if u see any typos/grammatical errors shhh no u didn't)

“imprison me in your name, let love kill me.” — mahmoud darwish

i love you, with a touch of tragedy and quite madly.” — simone de beauvoir

SUNDAY — 12:01 a.m.

in such a vast, mostly unexplored universe — where curses and wishes exist ubiquitously, teetering on opposite ends of a complicated spectrum of morality — there is one universal truth: love is a fucking battlefield. such is the woe of one kurosaki ichigo as he navigates through the various intricacies involved with such a strong emotion. if it was up to him, he wouldn’t suffer through it — but it’s not. his heart is incredibly foolish, his mind even more so; and despite what others might think, he’s not exactly as confident in his capabilities in romance. which is why he’s resorted to mapping out different ways to get you to do the work for him.

mostly because he can’t bear the agonizing feelings that come with vulnerability. so, rather than him ask you out, he’s attempting to get you to do it instead. inspiration strikes when he’s sitting at his desk after midnight, textbooks and notebooks strewn about, his studying long forgotten. ichigo spends an hour or so mulling over the hows and whys of everything, when a brilliant idea — or, series of brilliant ideas, rather — suddenly pops into his head. tearing out a piece of paper from his notebook, he scribbles down his thoughts, as if he’s afraid they’ll leave him forever if he doesn’t find a way to hold onto them. by the time he finishes, his hand is covered in splotches of ink, but he’s satisfied with his work.

he’s not completely sure if it’ll all pan out the way he wants, but he’s willing to give it a shot.

MONDAY — 10:56 a.m

it’s out of pure coincidence that he runs into you at the convenience store. you’re in an aisle with items that are on sale — a mega sale, at that — perusing through the little tubes of lotion and hand sanitizer, admiring the cute designs on each bottle, contemplating how many to buy. he’s tall enough that he spots you before you see him — which takes a long damn time, if he’s honest — but as you busy yourself looking at different items on the shelves, he takes to watching you from afar.

there’s something frighteningly beautiful about the way you make simple things look graceful and magical. from the way you carefully drag your fingertip along the labels, admiring the designs, giggling at some cute artwork; to the way you tilt your head, confusion clouding your vision as you debate internally over which product to buy; to the way you decide to shove as many items into your basket as possible, face flushed at the impropriety of purchasing so many — but they’re on sale, so you justify your shopping before you head to the cashier.

the entire time you move around, you feel his eyes on you; while he might think he’s being stealthy, you’re very aware of his presence. and how could you not be? ichigo isn’t someone you can ignore — nor would you ever try to, he’s such a dynamic person, kind without realizing, stubborn and silly, and, more importantly, incredibly handsome. you think it’s cute how he slinks through each aisle to follow you carefully — dressed as inconspicuously as possible — ducking whenever you turn your face to try and catch him, except he’s so damn tall that he can’t really hide too well.

still, you let him continue playing his little game, and head to the register to check out. maybe he’ll eventually let you in on whatever it is he’s planning if you play along. but he never approaches you, doesn’t call after you when you leave the store, which only leaves disappointment and confusion to fester around your stomach. he curses under his breath as he watches you walk further and further away from him; he’d meant to say something, to call out to you earlier, but nerves got the best of him, and he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

TUESDAY — 3:39 p.m.

the library is packed, students crammed into each seat and table along the first few floors. after the fiasco from yesterday, ichigo is that much more determined to make sure that things go according to plan today. again, it’s out of pure coincidence, that he’s also at the library around the same time you are. it’s almost instinctual, the way he spots you right away; he admires the shape of your calves, the way your skirt sits snugly around your wide hips, barely reaching the middle of your thick thighs.

it’s impossible for him not to watch you, not when you pause to look around the floor for an empty seat — teeth sinking into your bottom lip, lashes fluttering every time you blink. he knows how much you hate being in crowds of people, how your focus wanes if there’s too much noise around, and how you like to be away from any sort of distraction — you’re quite the dedicated student, he supposes.

so, it’s no surprise that you bypass the floor he’s on and scurry up the stairs, hand gliding up the wooden railing; an innocuous move that has him clench the pencil in his hand tight enough to crack it. he’s suddenly hit with the desire to be a damn railing — an odd, maddening feeling as absurd as it is debilitating. he almost doesn’t hear his name being called, but he does eventually look away and he’s intercepted by orihime and tatsuki. they implore him to sit with their group to study, much to his annoyance because you’ve left his sight and now he wants to go find you.

but he’ll deal need to deal with them, first.

ichigo reluctantly agrees — only after orihime gives him a sweet, yet pleading look, and tatsuki smirks and mouthing what now, almost as if she’s challenging him to defy their request — and plops down on an empty chair. his long legs knock into the neighboring chair and his complaints are ignored by his friends.

you struggle as you lug your heavy bag upstairs to the fourth floor; it’s eerie there, much too quiet, and for some reason people stay away from it. superstitions run rampant around campus about how everyone who studies on the fourth floor happens to fail every exam and assignment. you’re not one to believe in stupid shit like that, but you do say a quick prayer before settling down on one of the lone tables in the middle of the floor. despite being relatively empty, it’s well-kept and very tidy.

sunlight filters through the thick glass of the windows, illuminating the dated furniture and archaic books that litter the bookshelves nearby. it takes a few minutes, but you set up your textbooks and notes so you can review for your upcoming exam. ten minutes pass before you groan for the fifth time and place your face in your hands. you thought that studying by yourself would give you some distance from ichigo, but unfortunately, he’s been on your mind since yesterday. you chew on your thumbnail and consider your options; for whatever reason, he’s too dense to realize that you like him, but maybe you’ll need to be more forthcoming and upfront — maybe even dangle some bait to encourage him.

WEDNESDAY — 8:12 p.m.

after your first round of exams, you invite ichigo over to your apartment for a movie — a small, celebratory break in between midterms. your argument is sound — although, he would’ve agreed regardless — and he volunteers to come with plenty of snacks. all you can do is nod, you’re much too captivated by the shape of his jaw and with how his lips stretch into a smile. absolutely infuriating. all it does is make him radiate like some damn sun god, and you’re offended by it.

and for some reason, a small flutter in your chest causes you to inhale a sharply — thankfully you’re already on your way out of the lecture hall, walking swiftly in the hopes of permanently ridding yourself of whatever this is. you spend the next few hours obsessively scrubbing and organizing your apartment; by the time ichigo arrives, you’re physically exhausted. you miscalculated quite a bit, naively thinking that a bit of manual labor would cure you of your burdensome desire. but it doesn’t. if anything, you think about him even more. how will you survive with him alone with you during the night?

he's in a similar predicament, having spent the duration of his afternoon obsessively thinking about how best to deal with you — the situation was rather stressful, and while he could just sit down and talk with you honestly, it seemed more appropriate to approach things this way instead. he’s been to your place a handful of times, and he commits just a bit more to memory whenever he can. you’re a colorful person with plants hanging and stacked around cutely; you have an affinity for cooking and have artsy pieces scattered throughout your apartment. it fits you perfectly, and he likes how much more relaxed you are whenever you’re away from campus.

“you weren’t kidding when you said bring a lot of snacks,” you say, disrupting his thoughts, voice light and melodic. you eye the bags in his hands and offer to grab a few; ichigo frowns and lifts the bags away and over your head.

“they’re not heavy,” he says gruffly. he rolls his eyes while walking around you, legs carrying him quickly to the living room. if he didn’t give himself some space, your perfume would hold him hostage again; the last time he was this close, the scent of warm apples and sweet strawberries clung to his lungs with every inhale for at least a week. if he’s not careful, he’ll willingly fall into your trap all over again.

he places the bags on the coffee table before sitting on the couch, legs spread wide as he leans back. he appreciates how comfortable it is — with cushions soft enough to easily lull him to sleep. he fights it, of course, especially when you sit down next to him, thigh casually pressed against his. you don’t seem as bothered about this as he is, and when you cross one shapely leg over the other, he covertly adjusts himself while you’re preoccupied with the tv, leisurely scrolling through the options with the remote.

if he has to pinpoint what to blame, specifically, he’ll say it’s your exposed shoulders and flimsy shorts, your round breasts that stretch out your shirt, and your continued insistence on not wearing a bra whenever you’re alone with him.

he swallows hard and reaches down for one of the water bottles he brought along with the snacks; in the middle of him chugging half of the bottle, you place a hand on his thigh and give it a squeeze. he chokes and coughs a bit, hand clutching the bottle harder than he means to, making the remaining liquid shoot out and splash onto your arm and shirt. a deep flush crawls onto his face and ears as he mumbles an apology; you press your lips together, but barely contain your laughter.

“ichigo, what the hell was that?” you’re grinning so hard that your cheeks hurt. he turns his face and wipes some water from his chin with the back of his hand. “it’s not a big deal, really.” and it isn’t. honestly. you finally pick a movie — something gory and full of suspense — and settle back next to him, body pressed closely to his. the water didn’t help, and your hand is back on his thigh, stroking up and down. you’re not sure what possesses you to do it, but the compulsion hit you hard the moment you saw him sitting on your couch. it’s a pet peeve of yours whenever people take up that much space — the habit is obnoxious and selfish — but since he looks so damn good doing it, you give him an eternal pass.

even through the denim of his jeans, he can feel the heat radiating off of your hand, especially when you brush against his bulge, making his erection that much more painful. his cock is thick and heavy, precum drips through his underwear as he clenches his jaw and inhales through his nostrils. you watch him through your lashes and rub your hand up and down his stiff length. his eyes track your movements, the way your tongue darts out and briefly runs along your lips; he’s sure he could cum just by watching you do that over and over again.

maybe he needs help, or maybe he needs to investigate your lips and tongue properly.

as if commanded by an invisible puppeteer, you lean closer and place a hand on his chest; if there was ever a moment for ichigo to act impulsively, it’s now. he tangles his fingers in your dark curls, firmly gripping, tugging you towards him. he slants his lips against yours, tongue licking inside your mouth, caressing your tongue, bringing a heat through your body, an inferno that won’t ever be satisfied. you climb onto his lap, chest heaving, mumbling nonsense like “what took you so long,” and “stop teasing me, please”, kisses growing sloppy and urgent.

whatever sliver of restraint he has vanishes completely once you grind your hips against his, that familiar ache swirling around your abdomen casts a haze over your mind, making your logic nonexistent. his hands settle on your hips, gripping them hard enough to make you gasp and whine, arousal slipping between your folds and dampening your panties. you roll your hips, slowly at first but picking up the pace when ichigo brings a hand to your ass and slaps it. the sting has you jutting your hips forward, pussy bucking against his clothed cock, moaning pathetically against his lips.

if this is a dream, please don’t wake him; there’s a low pounding in his ears, and he takes a moment to admire the curve of your round ass, cupping it playfully. your nails sink into his shoulders, and he hisses while littering kisses along your jaw and down your throat. you bite down on your lip, stifling another moan. the movie long forgotten, you let out a small squeal when he sucks on your skin — teeth and tongue marking you, goosebumps pricking your arms and legs. you know there’ll be a bruise tomorrow, but you don’t care; he can leave as many marks as he likes.

you almost tell him as much, mouth opening, words stumbling over one another. “ichigo, i—”

several loud knocks on your door — accompanied by the terribly obnoxious ringing from your doorbell — has you scrambling off of his lap, face flushed and warm. you practically sprint towards the door, although you pause to catch your breath and fix your clothes a bit. ichigo lets out a frustrated groan, arousal pummeling into him, making it hard to think straight. he hadn’t planned on moving from his spot on the couch, but when he hears multiple voices coming from the front door, cowardice wins out and he hides in your bathroom. it takes five minutes for his cock to settle down, but when he goes to join you in the living room again, several of your friends are eating and lounging around on the floor and couch.

ever the gracious host, you’re pouring drinks for everyone, only pausing when you catch ichigo watching you. already your voice is an octave too high, your panties are clinging to your pussy, damp from your slick arousal. you do your best to not make large movements, preferring to keep your thighs as close together as possible.

annoyance pricks along the back of his neck as keigo clinks shot glasses with mizuiro; he didn’t think that telling them about his plans with you would lead to everyone else showing up too. now there are plans of ordering pizza and wings, of playing drinking games. and naturally tatsuki volunteers ichigo to go pick the food up. he shoots you an apologetic look, one that you wave away noncommittally. you know it’s not really his fault, his friends are just like that. still, you make sure to keep your hair down to obscure the various marks on your skin. you frown a bit when ichigo leaves but fix your features when orihime bounces over to you.

with a tilt of her head, eyes wide and bright, clear and strangely critical, she asks, “what’s wrong?” you know she means well, but you’d rather not discuss the fact that you were seconds away from pulling ichigo’s cock out and riding him until your pussy gave out when they all decided to come over.

“hm?” you try to clear your mind and adopt a friendly smile, “nothing’s wrong, just a little tired.” it’s true, though; you really are tired. all that studying, all that obsessing, it’s bound to make a girl exhausted. you can tell that she wants to press the issue, but in typical orihime fashion, she smiles and leaves it at that. the noisiness only serves to sober you up, but you doubt you’ll be able to sate the desire that steadily keeps building inside of you.

THURSDAY — 1:43 p.m.

tatsuki drags you and orihime to the gym, claiming that running is good for the soul — or something to that effect. you vaguely remember promising her last night, after downing one too many shots of whiskey, that you’d gladly accompany her to work out. your head throbs, your hangover a reoccurring nightmare, one that seems to follow you around all day. you try weaseling out, try to flake, but tatsuki is determined and stubborn as hell. you both admire and despise her for it right now.

you take it easy and stretch with the girls, before heading towards the treadmills. what some might consider benevolence on the universe’s part, ichigo considers cruelty; case in point, the fact that you’re here in the gym, when he knows for a fact that you’re not the exercising type — you’ve blurted this out more times than he can count, which is why he remembers. he drops from the pull up bar and grabs his towel to wipe his face, chest constricting, breathing ragged at the sight of you.

in the back of his mind, he understands that your attire is practical, he’s also quickly aroused by it; your leggings cling to your legs, highlighting your curves, stretching tight around your ass. your tank top flowing, your breasts almost spilling out of your sports bra, it was too much for him to handle at once. incidentally, you feel that ichigo working out shirtless should be illegal; your throat dries as your eyes travel along his broad chest, a ravenous hunger taking hold of your senses, that bothersome ache returning as you press your thighs together. you didn’t realize you’d stopped walking to watch him, muscles firm and thick, sweat clinging to his skin.

tatsuki calls your name repeatedly, and you have to remind yourself that you’re here to exercise and not gawk. it’s then that it dawns on you, your brain will never function properly around him — now that you’ve felt him, you lack focus. his sweatpants sit low on his hips, causing you to actually lose your damn balance; it’s partially comical, but mostly pathetic when you trip over your feet and helplessly fall onto the floor. your hands ball into fists, fingers curled inward, nails leaving tiny indents into your palms. you barely feel it, though, you’re too busy trying to regulate your breathing.

“y/n are you okay?” orihime rushes to help you stand back up; your face burns and you know that if you don’t put some distance between you and ichigo quickly, you’ll end up embarrassing yourself even more.

“yep, just peachy!” the lie is flimsy and you know that she doesn’t buy it, but you’re sticking with it. the truth is just too pitiful. ichigo frowns, fingers twitching as he grips the bar harder. you’re normally not that clumsy, and he’s half tempted to go and see if you’re okay. but the girls crowd you and he knows he’ll only make things worse if he interferes. you finally find a treadmill and even though you should probably stay off of it, you decide to use it anyway. you set a decent speed and fix the incline, opting to jog until your legs give out. if you suffer one more transgression, you’ll never be able to face ichigo again. already you feel that familiar burning sensation in your thighs, but you don’t stop; you’re not sure how long you keep at it, but ichigo is long gone when your body has finally had enough.

you drink some water and try to catch your breath. your mind is buzzing; you wish it was ichigo who helped you up instead. it’s a strange thing to be disappointed about, but you can’t stop imagining his strong arms wrapped around your soft waist. a lightheaded feeling takes over, you’re not sure how much more you can take; you’re barely surviving as is with minimal interactions with him.

he heads straight for the locker room as soon as he’s done with his last rep; no amount of cold water from the shower can snap him out of the daze you put him in. everything about you is dizzying, and just remembering how your lips and hands were on him, how soft your ass was, how he was so close to sinking his cock into your pussy the night before, makes his cock hard all over again. he has enough sense to ignore it, but he saw you jogging and nearly fell off the pull up bar. you’re dangerous, that much is certain; he’s never been this captivated by a person, so it’s almost as if he’s navigating through new territory.

“fucking ridiculous,” he says bitterly and turns off the shower so he can get dressed. he knows what he needs to do, he just needs everyone in his life to stop interfering so he can properly talk with you alone.

FRIDAY — 6:15 p.m.

for whatever reason, his friends conspire together and decide to do dinner at orihime’s house. rukia and tatsuki both shoo orihime out of the kitchen, not wanting to deal with whatever strange concoction her impulses come up with. it’s meant to be a casual affair, which he reminds you again when he stops by your apartment to pick you up. ichigo raids your fridge for something to munch on while he waits, and after fifteen minutes, he makes his way down the narrow hallway to your room. the door is open, so he assumes you must be all done, walking in without announcing himself properly.

there are several outfits strewn about on your bed; after the fourth one, you huff and stomp around your room, the carpet soft underneath your feet as you try to reason with yourself. it’s really because you’re nervous that ichigo asked you to go with him — as his date. or, at least, you’re sure that’s what he meant by inviting you to the dinner. you told ichigo you wouldn’t take long, but that was clearly a lie — not an intentional one, but a lie nonetheless.

“are you still not done?” he pauses, eyes landing on your half naked body; he gets hard instantly at the sight of your soft stomach and thick thighs. you’re too focused on your current crisis that you barely register that he’s in your room as you head back into the closet to look for another dress. if he had better morals and sense, he’d leave you to get dressed at your own pace; but, unfortunately for him, his body is the worst kind of traitor. this has been the longest week of his entire life, but he’s thankful that he has you to himself again.

you put on a new dress and flip your hair over your shoulder. “help me, please.” because your arms are still sore from working out and you figure there’s no harm in asking for his assistance. his heart lodges itself in the base of his throat, hands shaking a bit — nerves or excitement, he’s not sure — but he manages to tug the small zipper up without much issue. his hands linger on your hips, cock stiff as it angrily presses against the front of his pants.

suddenly, you’re very, very aware of how close he’s standing.

he knows that if he doesn’t let go of you, he’ll feel inclined to skip the dinner altogether. but he doesn’t want to deal with the repercussions of flaking, so he decides against it. he does, however, brush his lips along the side of your neck, leaving behind a trail of slow kisses. you’re teetering over the edge, falling further under his spell as his hands roam along your body, roughly kneading your breasts over the fabric of your dress.

you test the proverbial waters and rub your ass against his bulge, which prompts him to bite your neck in warning. you let out a small yelp and softly moan his name; you end up losing more of your composure when he turns you around and kisses you. his appetite is insatiable, his kisses feverish and demanding, a frenzied whirlwind that has you unbuckling his pants and tugging his zipper down to pull out his cock.

his imagination will never compare — your hands are still soft as ever, even as they grip him eagerly, twisting while pumping up and down his length. he hisses when you rub your thumb against the tip and kisses you ardently, tongue brazen as it swirls around yours before sucking on it. you rub your thighs together, breathing unevenly, his kisses scalding and potent. you pry yourself away from him and sink to your knees, tongue running flat against his length, circling around his thick head of his cock and licking the precum that seeps out of his slit.

ichigo’s moans echo in your room, bouncing off the walls, prompting you to open your mouth so you can take in as much of him as you can. he presses a fist to his mouth when you start bobbing your head, cheeks hollowed, mouth hot and tight; you caress his balls with your free hand, enjoying the way his cheeks are flushed and the way he licks his lips while looking down at you. he doesn’t think when he grabs your head and starts fucking your mouth and doesn’t think when you hold onto his thighs and relax your jaw to accommodate for his girth.

you can’t lie, you’ve been dreaming about this for longer than you care to admit — it’s almost embarrassing how badly you’ve wanted to have his cock in your mouth, but you never imagined that ichigo would be like this; rough, clumsy, but every bit as tantalizing as ever. you let him have his way, using your mouth and throat as he thrusts his cock deeper. you gag but maintain eye contact, tears streaming down your cheeks at the ferocity of his thrusts.

you know something must be wrong with you because your panties are soaked, the ache building from deep inside, bubbling and pushing you closer to the edge. you like this side of him, the one that’s a little unhinged and feral, a man possessed with a certain goal on his mind. he knows he should be a bit gentler, but the way you’re looking at him, like you’re more than pleased with how he’s handling you, convinces him otherwise.

“fuck,” he pants, breath coming out in shallow puffs. his phone rings, startling both of you; he wants to ignore it but has a feeling that it’s one of his friends asking for his whereabouts. he pulls out of your mouth, drool spilling down your chin. he has so many things that he wants to say to you, but none of them come to mind. you’re not ready for any of this to end, so you motion for him to pick up the phone and stroke his cock again.

he hesitates only for a moment, but you have a mischievous look on your face, and he knows better than to test your patience right now. “w-what is it?” he asks when he answers the phone, voice low and husky, a shiver sliding down your spine when you suck on the head of his cock. he clamps his mouth shut in the hopes of keeping as quiet as possible, but mizuiro sounds so concerned and keeps asking why he’s giving him one- or two-word responses. however, ichigo’s desire to fuck you is greater than his guilt; besides, he realizes, belatedly, that you want someone to catch him like this.

it's hot, he won’t lie. and he’d indulge you more, but with the way you’re stroking and sucking his cock, he doubts he’ll be able to tolerate a full conversation with mizuiro — especially as he drones on about how imperative it is for ichigo to keep his promises.

blah, blah, blah.

he cuts the conversation short, tossing the phone onto the floor behind him. he grabs onto your arm, hauls you to your feet, and his mouth is on yours again. orihime’s dinner party is the last thing on both of your minds, not when he leaves you breathless, kissing you until your lips are swollen, lipstick smeared. his hands are on the move again as he tugs your dress off of you, mouth placing messy kisses down your chest, teeth tugging on your hardened nipples before sucking on them. it’s impossible to keep steady when each ichigo’s mouth is ruining your life in the best way possible.

your arousal clings to the inner parts of your thighs, you’re practically begging him to fuck you, words barely coherent as you fuss at him, but he understands you just fine. after pulling the rest of his clothes off, he picks you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist as he holds you against the wall. if he were a better man, he’d have the courtesy to fuck you on your bed; but he isn’t thinking properly, and he’s tired of playing around. he snakes a hand lower, fingers rubbing your pussy, dragging needy whimpers out of you.

“ichigo, damn it,” your frustration is cute and he can’t help but continue to tease you. he slides his fingers into your tight, needy hole, fingers sinking deeply without much resistance.

“you’re so wet, i don’t think i need to prep you at all.” he’s impressed, actually and likes how your pussy keeps sucking his fingers back in every time he pulls them back. you buck your hips against his hand, and if it wasn’t for his arm holding you securely, you’d fall over with ease.

you can barely look at him, cheeks permanently flushed as you moan loudly for him. “that’s it,” he coaches, thumb circling around your clit, fingers scissoring roughly, “you want me to fuck you that badly?”

your eyes grow wide but you nod and breathe out a, “yes. i’ve been waiting for so damn long.” the confession surprises him, as he was under the impression that he was the only one who suffered the entire time. and, because his cock is running the show, he plucks his fingers out of you, lines his tip with your entrance and slams his cock inside. you claw at the back of his neck and all along his chest, legs trembling as his hips knock against yours roughly. nothing could prepare him for the way your plush, gummy walls suffocate him — wet and warm, a snug fit that he’ll never tire of.

you move your hips in tandem with his, matching the timing of his thrusts, as you press sloppy kisses along his jaw, nails raking down his broad back. ichigo’s hips rock forward, cock burrowing deeper with each stroke. both of you are at your limits, he knows he won’t last much longer, but he’ll try his best anyway. his pace quickens, your pussy making lewd, squelching noises, your wetness coating his cock prettily. your breasts bounce as he fucks you harder, your voice growing hoarse from how loud you are, enticing him to pound into you wildly.

he licks the base of your throat, groaning against your skin when you roll your hips, cunt full as his cock is buried to the hilt; his tip hits a spot that makes you hold onto him tighter, breathing shallow as you call out his name. he commits the moment to memory — something to look back on late at night — thoroughly enjoying how you’re writhing underneath him. he angles his hips, keeps them closer to yours, bucking against you recklessly — his cock bringing about an incurable madness that takes over your entire being.

maybe it’s because you’ve been denying yourself for so long — or maybe it’s because you’ve been teasing one another all week — but you feel as if a bit of weight has been lifted off of your shoulders. his balls are heavy, each slap against your ass makes you clench around him more. he rubs your clit, firm small circles that send tiny jolts throughout your body. your back arches as your walls spasm, fluttering around his cock, hips stuttering under his powerful thrusts. the orgasm leaves you dazed, eyes rolling back, your cunt puffy but greedy as it milks him shamelessly.

he never pegged you for a squirter, yet you keep defying his expectations. you want to bury your head underground for eternity, hating the way your orgasm has you incapacitated, slumping over him while your wetness spills onto your carpet.

ichigo keeps fucking you until his hips jerk, rhythm disrupted, cum thick and hot as it spills inside of you. he humps you lazily and you pepper his face with wet kisses, his heart leaping out of his chest as your fingers sift through his hair. both of you are sweaty and out of breath, but when you look up at him, something close to adoration flits across his face. you’re not sure if that’s a post-orgasm sort of thing, but you’ll take it for what it is.

you brush your lips against his, gently kissing him, and ask if he still wants to go to dinner. ichigo shoots you an incredulous look and you laugh in response. “okay, okay,” you pat his chest gently, “boyfriends shouldn’t look at their girlfriends like that.” you say it casually enough that it feels like a joke, but you’re too damn nervous to look at him to see his reaction.

his ears grow hot and he presses his lips together for a moment before mumbling a, “sorry, won’t happen again.” you pinch his cheek and playfully lick at his lips. a warmth travels to your chest, nestles into the crevices that line the inside of your heart, and makes you want to kiss him all over again. he takes that as a sign of forgiveness — although he isn’t actually sure if you meant it or not — and carries you over to your bed. while he initially set out to get you to confess first, somewhere along the way, his mission fell apart. still, he can’t say he’s unhappy about the outcome. and, sure, his friends might give him an earful for missing out on dinner, but he’s much more content and comfortable being with you right now to care.

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