#Daisy Writes

[saltcxrcle]

medicine ── . ✶ s. winchester

summary: persuading sam to go out to the bar with you was easy, but it's not like he needed much convincing when it came to you.

pairings: sam winchester x reader, sam winchester x fem!readerノ wc: 3.3k warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, no use of 'y/n', smut, porn with no plot, feat. sam munchester!, dry humping, oral f&m receiving!, 69ing, finger sucking, protected p in v, riding, praise, aftercare, fluff, loverboy sam!, is titled and loosely based on the unreleased song by harry styles, kinda edited; all mistakes are my own a/n: you guys voted for this, so you shall receive the smut you freaks! jk love you guys and i had so much fun writing this hehe (can you tell i have a thing for his forearms lol). also would highly recommend you guys listen to the song either before or during this fic but enjoy <33 sam winchester masterlist

SAM WAS SO GLAD YOU HAD YOUR OWN ROOM. 

He pushed you hard against the door, lips attached to yours as his hands found purchase on your ass. Sam smiled against your lips as you let out a slight squeal at the feeling of him squeezing and massaging your ass through your jeans. 

You ran your hands up his chest, leaving one on his shoulder as the other one clutched at the back of his head. Your fingers ran through his silky smooth hair before tugging at the strands. He let out a low groan as his hips involuntarily jerked against you. 

You tugged at the strands again, making his lips detach from yours with a small ‘pop,’ a strand of saliva being the only thing connecting the two of you. 

You smiled at the slightly dazed look that Sam had on his face. “We should probably get inside. Unless you want to give everyone a free show.” You joked. 

“Right, yeah we should.” Sam nodded, seeming to remember the two of you were outside of your room. 

Sam let you turn around in his arms, hands resting on your hips—his breath ghosting over your cheeks as his face moved to bury itself in your neck. You could barely open the door, distracted by the soft kisses Sam was placing along the sensitive areas of your neck. 

Sam smiled into your neck at the sight of you fumbling with the lock. He was glad that you managed to rope him into coming out with you and Dean tonight. But it’s not like he needed much convincing from you—he always found himself wanting to be around you, and this was no different. 

Dean took no time finding someone to chat up and eventually go home with tonight, leaving you and Sam to your own devices. After having a few drinks, he felt loose and relaxed for once. Sam enjoyed being around you and loved that he had your undivided attention. You didn’t drink often, but you enjoyed a cocktail or two when you were out with the brothers after a successful hunt. 

You had about two, almost three Dirty Shirleys tonight, the vodka hitting you slightly, but the buzz you were feeling got canceled out with the fries you and Sam had ordered to share. The cherry that was floating at the top of your drink was resting against the ice in your nearly empty drink. 

“Can I have that?” Sam asked from beside you, pointing to the cherry in your drink.

“Sure.” You plucked it from your glass and held it out to Sam, thinking he was going to grab it from your hand. 

Sam was feeling bold, the alcohol bolstering his confidence. His intense gaze never left your eyes as he ducked his head down and grabbed the cherry from your hand with his mouth—his lips wrapping around your fingertips, drawing the fruit into his mouth. 

Your mouth fell open slightly as the tension between the two of you grew exponentially—his eyes fluttered, letting the tartness of the cherry coat his tongue. You couldn’t help how your cunt clenched around nothing as you saw Sam’s jaw move as he chewed on the cherry slowly. You had to look away from Sam, your cheeks filled with heat as a spark of desire ignited in your lower belly. 

It didn’t help that the low lighting of the bar seemed to cloak Sam’s sharp features but made his hazel eyes practically glow in the dim lights. 

Sam couldn’t help but smirk at your reaction. “You okay?” He ducked down and asked quietly in your ear. 

“Yeah.” You cleared your throat, trying to mask the shiver that went down your spine at the low rumble of his voice. “Just peachy.” 

Sam chuckled quietly. He rested his hand on your thigh. “Did you want to head back?” 

The two of you quickly left after he posed the question, his hand on the small of your back leading you out of the bar. Luckily, the motel the three of you were staying at was within walking distance of the bar, so it didn’t take long for the two of you to make it back. 

Once you arrived at your room and before you were going to ask Sam if he wanted a nightcap, his question threw you off completely. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

You stared at him before quickly replying. “Yes.” 

It didn’t take long for Sam to pin you to your door once you got it open, and the two of you made your way inside. Your hands immediately found their place in his hair as his lips moved against yours. You couldn’t help but softly moan at the feeling of his tongue sliding against yours—being able to taste the cherry he had eaten only moments ago with the faint hint of whiskey that he had been sipping on earlier. 

Sam swallowed your moan as he kissed you. His hands roamed over your body before finding the back of your thighs. He quickly lifted you up, and you wrapped your legs around his waist without any hesitation. Sam walked the two of you to one of the beds in your room before sitting on it with you in his lap. 

You couldn’t help but grind against his denim-covered bulge, making him groan against your lips. His hands landed on your hips to aid you in your movement. 

Your lips finally detached from his as soft moans left your lips. Sam’s lips found your neck again, biting and sucking at the skin as you continued to grind against him, sparks of pleasure zipping through you as your clit rubbed against your underwear. 

Sam’s lips eventually left your neck, and he made quick work of your shirt—almost ripping it from how recklessly he pulled it off of you. You all but clawed at the brown button-up he was wearing. It was unfair how well this color suited him. He had the sleeves rolled up to his forearms—and you were salivating at the sight of them all night. 

The two of you stared at each other when your shirts were discarded. 

“You’re beautiful.” Sam murmured as his hands traced up and down your back as he gazed up at you, his hazel eyes filled with reverence and desire. 

“Could say the same thing about you.” You replied as your hands landed on his broad shoulders. 

Sam’s cheeks flushed red at your earnestness. He leaned in and kissed you softly, making your head spin from how different this kiss was compared to the passionate and lust-fueled ones from earlier. You couldn’t help but pour your feelings into this kiss as Sam did the same. 

You eventually pulled away from his lips, giggling when his lips chased after yours. Sam couldn’t help but smile at the sound, his heart filling with warmth. 

You reached behind you to unclip your bra, letting it fall off your chest and throwing it somewhere behind you. Sam leaned in and kissed your neck, his lips trailing down the soft skin of your chest. A soft moan left your lips as you felt his lips wrap around one of your nipples—the unoccupied breast being held in his other hand, squeezing and kneading at it. 

“Fuck Sammy.” Your words came out breathy as your hands tugged at his hair. 

A groan came from deep in his chest. His mouth left your breast as his lips landed on yours again. Sam’s hands wandered down your body and to your jeans. His hands were insistent as he tugged at your pants, trying to get them off of you. 

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you at Sam’s impatience. You grabbed his hands, pulling away from his lips. 

“Slow down, pretty boy.” You got up from Sam’s lap to shimmy your jeans off, leaving you in your underwear in front of Sam. You resisted the urge to hide away from Sam’s gaze, but he looked at you in awe—his cock jumping at the sight of you. 

“Your turn.” You smirked as you walked in between Sam’s open legs and unbuckled his belt as he kicked off his shoes. 

He helped you as you unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down along with his boxers, his hard cock springing up from its confines. You tried not to drool at the sight of it. The tip was red and leaking precum—all you wanted to do was taste him. You ran your hands up his thighs, but he caught them before they could make it to their destination. 

Sam quickly grabbed you, and in a blink of an eye, you were straddling Sam’s face. His eyes were trained on the damp patch on your underwear caused by your arousal. 

“Wait, but I want to suck you off.” You stopped Sam before he could think about burying his tongue in you. 

“That can wait.” 

You pouted before you smiled in realization. You managed to get Sam’s hands off of your thighs long enough to turn around to face his cock. 

“Baby, you don’t have to– oh, shit.” Sam cursed when he felt your warm hand wrap around his dick and started to stroke him slowly. 

You couldn’t help but smirk at his reaction before dipping your head down and kissing his weeping tip. Another groan left his lips at the stimulation his cock was getting. Sam remembered that your covered center was right in front of him. 

He pulled your underwear to the side. “You’ve got such a pretty pussy, honey.” Sam couldn’t help but praise as he swiped his thumb through your wet slit. 

A shiver went through you at the feeling of his fingers on you. “Could say the same thing about your cock.” You managed to say before wrapping your lips around the tip and engulfing it with your warm mouth. 

“Fuckk.” Sam moaned out at the feeling of your hot mouth on his cock. “Feels so good baby.” 

You hummed around his cock before you started to bob your head, stroking whatever you couldn’t fit in your mouth. 

You jumped when you felt Sam’s tongue swipe through your slit, his tongue laving over your cunt before sucking your clit into his mouth. A muffled whine erupted from your lips at the sudden stimulation, and you couldn’t help how your hips chased Sam’s mouth when he pulled away. 

“You taste s’good. Been wanting this for a while.” He confessed as he adjusted your underwear to the side again. Sam scowled at the offending garment. 

You felt something rip, and you pulled away from Sam’s cock long enough to turn around to see Sam throw your now ruined underwear on the floor. 

“Sam! You could have—” You cut yourself off with a moan as Sam buried his face in your pussy, his tongue diving into you, and his hands gripped your hips tight. 

Your head fell to his hip as Sam devoured your cunt. The sounds that were coming from your slick cunt and Sam was downright filthy. Your teeth scraped along his skin when you felt his thick fingers fill you as his lips sealed around your sensitive clit, licking and sucking at the bundle of nerves. 

A groan left Sam’s plush lips, feeling your teeth sink into his skin. You just barely remembered to keep sucking Sam off. The pleasure you were feeling overrode anything you were trying to do. But you started to stroke his cock again, putting your mouth on him once more. 

The coil in your lower belly started to get tighter and tighter as your body grew warmer as Sam ate you out. You could barely focus on getting him off, pulling your mouth off of him and letting the moans and whines escape you as you tried to jerk him off. 

“Shit Sammy, I’m gonna cum.” At your words, Sam seemed to double down in his efforts, his fingers hitting that spot that no one has been able to hit before, and he sucked at your clit harder. 

You came with a cry, letting go of Sam’s cock to grab at his thigh. Sam let out a hiss of pleasure, feeling your nail bite into his skin, his cock twitching at the sensation. Sam worked you through your orgasm before he slowly pulled away so you didn’t get overstimulated. 

Once you calmed down, Sam was able to manipulate your pliant body so you were lying on top of him, face-to-face with him. His chin and lips were covered in your slick, but you didn’t care as you kissed him. The kiss was tender as Sam smiled into it. Sam licked into your mouth, and a low groan left you as you tasted a mix of yourself and Sam on his tongue. 

You started to grind against Sam’s hard cock, covering it in your slick, both of you moaning into each other’s mouths at the feeling. 

Through the haze of lust that clouded your mind, you managed to remember something. “Condom?” You asked as you pulled away from Sam’s lips. 

“In my pants.” Sam gestured to his discarded jeans on the bed. 

You nodded. You got up and grabbed Sam's jeans, checking his pockets until you felt the foil packaging of the condom. Once you grabbed it, you checked as you climbed back onto the bed. 

You saw Sam trying to get up and reach for it. “Nope, stay there. I wanna ride you.” You sent him a sultry grin. 

Sam huffed, but a smile pulled at his lips, and he shook his head. “Fine.” 

You tore open the wrapper and quickly rolled the condom onto Sam’s long cock. You straddled him once more and grabbed its base. Lining it up with your entrance, you slowly sunk on top of him. 

You practically whimpered at the feeling of Sam’s cock stretching you open. The sting of his thick cock sent sparks of pleasure through you. Sam stared at your face, seeing it twist in desire as you slid his dick inside of you. 

Both of you let out matching moans once you had taken him to the hilt. Fuck, you felt so full, his tip just barely pressing against your g-spot. You were already so overwhelmed with the feeling of him but started to move up on his cock before going down just as slowly before starting a rhythm of riding Sam. 

There was a familiar burn in your thighs as you rode Sam, making you falter ever so slightly in your pace, and Sam noticed. He moved his hands to your hips. 

“Doing so good. You’re such a good girl, taking my cock so well.” Sam praised as he helped you ride him, his hips thrusting up and meeting you as you sank down on him. 

The motel room was filled with low praises and groans from Sam, which mixed with your whining and babbling about how good he felt in you. At some point, one of Sam’s hands left your hips to cup one of your cheeks. He started to kiss and bite at your neck as the two of you moved in tandem with one another. 

Sam eventually moved from your neck to look at your blissed-out face. As you moved, his thumb slipped into your mouth, and you instinctively started to suck on it like you would his cock. 

“Fuck.” His cock twitched as he felt a zip of pleasure down his spine at the sight of you sucking his thumb. “You close? I can feel you clenching around me. Shit, your cunt is so tight baby, love it so much.” 

Sam pulled his thumb out of your mouth and replaced it with a bruising kiss as he used his spit-slicked thumb to rub against your clit. 

You practically sobbed against his lip. “M’close!” 

“Come for me. Let go f’me pretty girl.” Sam pressed harder against your clit, and you crumbled around him with a silent cry. 

Sam thrusted up into you twice before burying into your convulsing cunt, biting at your shoulder as he spilled into the condom. Sweat coated both of your bodies as you calmed down from your orgasms. Sam let you rest on top of him as his cock softened in you. But after your breathing went back to normal, you peeled yourself off of him and winced slightly as his dick slipped out of you. 

You landed on your stomach with a slight huff escaping your lips. You looked up at Sam as he rested on his elbows, looking down at you. You sent him a smile, which he returned. He leaned down and gave you a tender kiss before getting up from the bed. He took off the condom and tied it up before heading to the bathroom to toss it. 

You moved your back as he was in the bathroom. You were resting your eyes, taking in the bliss-filled silence, basking in the afterglow of your orgasm. You heard the water running in the bathroom but thought nothing of it. 

Sam eventually made his way back to the main room. “I really hope you didn’t fall asleep on me.” 

“Nope, just resting my eyes.” You opened your eyes to look at Sam. He had managed to pull his boxers back on but had a towel in one hand and a glass of water in the other. 

You were a little disappointed that he wasn’t naked anymore but still drank in his shirtless torso. 

Sam set down the glass of water on the nightstand before he took the towel he wet with warm water and gently cleaned your cunt, being mindful of how sensitive it was. He dotted soft kisses along your bare skin as he wiped you down. After he was done, Sam grabbed the glass of water and brought it up to your lips. 

Your chest warmed at Sam’s actions. You drank at least half of the glass, leaving the rest for him to gulp down. When the cup was empty, he sat it back down on the nightstand, and you gave him a kiss, pouring all of your gratitude and affection for Sam into it. 

Sam all but melted into the kiss, cupping your face with his free hand before you broke it—resting your forehead against his. You reluctantly moved away from him, knowing you should go to the bathroom before you fell asleep.

You kissed his cheek before standing up from the bed, and your legs shook slightly as you walked towards the bathroom. 

Sam tried to stifle a laugh, but a snort escaped him when he saw you trying to walk normally. 

You whipped your head around to glare at him. “Shut up! It’s your fault anyway.” You tried to be stern, but you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Sam’s smug grin. 

“Sorry.” You damn well knew that he wasn’t sorry at all, but you flipped him off as you turned back around and went to the bathroom. You heard his bright laughter through the bathroom door, making you grin. 

Once you were done with the bathroom, you exited the bathroom to see Sam underneath the covers of the other bed, his head whipping over to you and sending you a soft smile. You couldn’t help but return it as you picked up his brown shirt, putting it over your naked body and buttoning it up before you slid in right next to him under the covers. 

Sam didn’t say anything about wearing his shirt, but he loved seeing you in his clothes, so he had absolutely no problem with wearing it. He turned off the lamp, sending the room into darkness. Both of you let out contented sighs as the two of you settled in each other’s embraces, legs intertwined with one another and arms wrapped around waists and torsos. 

Sleep came easy to you both, finding peace in each other’s arms and something more in either of your hearts.  

[shadowsndaisies]

the beginning

a/n: part one of the brightest of lights white lantern!reader AU!!! im so excited to share this with you as part of my resolution to posting more often, especially the wips that have been sitting stagnant for so long. it's the first time in a while that i get to return to jason todd, my number 1 always.

main masterlist

the brightest of lights masterlist

wc: 4.2k

“Batcave to Outlaws,” Dick Grayson’s voice flooded the speakers of your new hideout and you heard Jason let out a groan.

“What’s up, Batcave?” you smirk, answering the call.

“Why would you answer?” Jason chided as Dick’s face filled the screen. “You know we don’t like them,” he huffs from where he was sharpening one of his blades.

“I’m bored and their calls usually give me something to do,” you muse.

“Ding! Ding! Ding! The lady is correct. I do have something for you guys,” Dick chimes with a playful smile and Jason shakes his head.

“Fine, I’ll play. What do you want?” Jason asked, moving to stand beside where you were seated at the computer.

“Batman is already on-sight but there was a major crash right on the edge of Gotham. It seems like it’s from space,” Dick teases, and your lips part in excitement as you turn to Jason.

“You had to say space, didn’t you?” Jason sighed looking at you and then to Dick.

“C’mon, Jase, please!” you pleaded.

“If you’re going to go, you should hurry, I think Batman’s gonna call Green Lantern,” a new face appeared on screen, Tim Drake, or Red Robin.

“You know you both are enabling her?” Jason says to his brothers as you shot up from your chair to grab your gear.

“Not our fault your partner’s cooler than you,” Tim smirks.

“You keep this shit up, Timbers, watch what happens,” Jason growled.

You slung your leather jacket on and put on your utility belt before moving back to the screen to grab your phone. “I will leave you here Jason,” you tell him as you slip the device into a lined pocket on the inside of your jacket.

“Damnit, (Y/n), just give me a second,” he sighed, moving from the screen.

“Thanks for the tip, Batcave,” you smile at the two.

“We know you’re a bit of an astrophile,” Dick smiled kindly.

“Yeah, you space-loving geek. What a nerd,” Tim snorted, rolling his eyes in amusement.

“See ya, boys,” you smiled into the camera, “Outlaws, out,” you finished before shutting the call off.

“I don’t understand your obsession with space,” Jason commented as you both mounted your bikes.

“My obsession? Really?” you shoot him a look as you tap your choker, the nanotechnology there crawled over your face producing a helmet of sorts.

“Hey some people like Disney, you like space, I’m not judging, I just don’t get it,” he sighed.

Revving your engine you look over to your partner, “What’s not to get?” you ask, voice slightly distorted before taking off.

By the time you arrived at the crash site, Green Lantern was there talking with Batman, “And here I thought I’d be able to get through a week without having to see him,” Jason drawled and your nanotech helmet dissolved once more leaving you with just your domino mask and choker.

“Play nice, I want to see the spaceship,” you warn your best friend.

You couldn’t see his eyes due to the red helmet but you were positive he was rolling them at your antics. Looping your arm with his you pulled Jason over to where GL and B were.

“Red Hood, I didn’t expect to see you here,” Batman’s eyes narrowed on the two of you.

“Yeah, it’s nice to see you too, Bats,” you smile at the dark knight.

“What are you doing here?” he pressed, pushing past your antics.

“Why can’t we just be doing our jobs as vigilantes to check in on crashes, like this one?” Jason asked, nonchalantly, and while the two leaguers turned to the man with the red helmet, you carefully slipped away.

You had been learning from Jason a lot lately, watching the way he walked, for someone so large and well built, he made virtually no sound. So, as light as you could, you slunk away from the three in discussion and closer to the crash site. The first thing you noticed was that there was a lot of smoke. You pulled your jacket off your body and bundled it up a bit to make a breathable mask for the moment being as you crept through. You also made a mental note to add filters to your helmet for future events like this. You weren’t really sure what you were looking for, but you kept moving, and all of a sudden you found yourself by what had to be the cockpit of his small ship.

“Damnit, (y/n), you couldn’t wait a few minutes?” Jason’s voice crackled over the comms.

You were about to respond when you saw something shift through the smoke, “Holy shit. Red, I think there’s someone alive in the crash,” you said instead, creeping ever closer to the crash.

“What?” he shot back.

“Someone or something alive is in this wreckage, Jase,” you repeat.

“Wait for me,” Jason pleads.

“Fat chance, Red Hood. Hurry up,” you decide as you find an opening.

Carefully you move through the ship, it was about the size of a shipping container, but it had broken into pieces in the crash.

“Hello?” you shouted, squinting through the smoke. “Is someone there?”

There was a flash of white light and a hushed whisper. Definitely a voice, maybe two, but you couldn’t make out what they were saying. Biting down on your lip you surged forwards. Once you cleared a very thick plume of smoke you found what you had been looking for. A body.

It was alien, without a doubt, and he was clad in a white uniform that you most definitely recognized.

“Jase?” you tapped on the comms line, with wide eyes, as you stared at the creature.

Whatever it was, it was bleeding purple blood and its eyes were shut.

“What? What’d you find?” he asked, you could hear him panting a bit.

“It’s a Lantern, I have absolutely no clue what race, but it’s definitely a Lantern,” you shared, but your eyes were analyzing the suit, it was different from the ones you’d see from the Green Lanterns, this one was white, but the design was basically the same.

“What? GL said that no other members of the Green Lantern Corps were detected on Earth,” Jason’s voice crackled a bit.

“I never said it was green,” you shoot back.

Suddenly the being coughed and its eyes opened wide, you surged forward, towards the being, dropping your jacket and your hands moving to the spots that were bleeding.

“Just hold on, alright, help will be here soon,” you whispered as you tried to help the alien.

It’s vibrant purple eyes, focused on you, as you hoped that their physiology was something like your own.

“A Terran, how unforeseen,” it spoke softly and your eyes widened.

This alien whatever it was, was speaking straight into your head.

“Forgive me, but by connecting us, I can assure a clean understanding without a language barrier,” it continued.

“Oh, okay, sure,” you swallowed, even though you really had no clue what was happening.

“I’m afraid, Terran, I will not make it through this,” the being let out what seemed to be a sigh.

“I don’t really know how to help,” you admit.

“Tell me, Terran, do you love? Have you compassion? Hope? Are there things you fear? Things you wish to claim for yourself? Are you angry? Do you possess the strength to balance all of these emotions?” the creature’s voice was gravelly in your mind but you kept your place.

“I-I mean I guess so?” you offered. “Doesn’t everybody?”

“Hmm, show me. Show me the things that you relate to these emotions,” it pushed. “Begin with Anger.”

A memory flashed before your eyes, the night you met Jason. You had just started the vigilante thing when you saw a couple kids getting cornered in crime alley. Some gang that was trying to recruit them had backed them into a dead end. You had left them knocked out and zip tied to a wall with a note for the cops. But those kids, you made sure they were okay, it pissed you off to see good kids stuck in crappy situations, and there were so many of them.

“Hmm, angry for the violence and pain inflicted on others? Interesting,” it hummed, “now, what of greed?” your surprise was definitely clear, this thing, whatever it was, was reading your mind.

This time the memory was the first time you walked through Wayne Manor. It was so huge, and everything you had dreamed about as a kid on the streets. Something that you had always wanted, a life of luxury, and yet it seemed so foreign, it still did.

“What do you fear?”

You saw Jason bleeding on your sofa, two bullet wounds, a cut. You weren’t much better, the two of you had barely made it out of this last fight with your lives. You remembered the day so vividly because Jason had almost died trying to save you.

“And hope, do you possess the purest of all?” he continued.

There’s a little girl on her dad’s shoulders, they’re at the park, she’s giggling and he’s smiling up at her. Jason, Roy, and Kori were with you, the group had decided to take a chill day. There were cups of lemonade, a couple of books, a speaker and you were lounging about in one of the rare sunny days here in Gotham. These were the days that reminded you why you fought so hard, they reminded you of what you were protecting.

“What is compassion, Terran?

It’s almost funny what memory surfaces this time. You’re leaning back against a brick wall in the Narrows, eyes bright as you keep watch. Jason’s crouched down with a bunch of kids around him. He’s giving them lollipops, clothes, blankets; all in all, about a grand’s worth of stuff. You knew that because it was money you had raided from Black Mask a few days earlier.

“Why are you asking me these things? Who are you? What are you?” you interrupted, this thing was reading your mind, and you were trying your best to force it out.

“I will answer your questions, but there is one more. Do you have one to love?” it asked and your breath hitched, because you knew exactly where that would send you.

You saw yourself back at the hideout with Jason; cleaning guns, sharpening blades, watching a movie, and passing out together on the sofa. He was all you needed.

“Hmm, how interesting. Maybe you Terrans have an inaccurate reputation,” it hummed. “You will make an excellent choice.”

“What are you talking about?”

“My name is Ophelius, I am the last ring-bearer of the White Lanterns. And you, you will be my successor,” Ophelius shared and your eyes bulged. “What is your name, Terran?

“Woah, what?”

“Your name,” he pushed.

“(Y/n),” you answered and he nodded.

“A white lantern must embody all the emotions, all the spectrums of the light. You must feel everything, and most of all, you must balance them. Your emotions will be your saving grace but lose balance, fall unevenly to any and you will destroy yourself and everything around you,” he warned.

“Ophelius, just hold on. A Green Lantern is on the way, he’ll be able to save you,” you tried to reason.

“No, there is no time to wait for Oa’s warrior. Listen to me Terran, remember these words, they will be your connection to all those before you, to the power of the light, and to the balance within,” Ophelius warned and he raised his hand to you, four fingers of light green skin, one of which was adorned with a white ring.

“In brightest day there will be light,” he said solemnly and the ring began to glow with a bright white light. “To cleanse the soul and set wrongs right,” he continued and the ring slowly lifted from his finger. “When darkness falls, look to the skies,” it spun carefully in the air, enveloping you and Ophelius in this white light. “A new dawn comes,” the ring placed itself on your finger, “let there be light,” Ophelius finished and the light died away, leaving you in white and Ophelius who looked even paler than before.

“Ophelius,” you muttered his name carefully.

“Be the brightest of lights, (y/n),” he whispered once more and he fell back gently against the ground.

“(Y/n)!” you heard Jason shout your name but your eyes stayed glued to the now-dead alien.

“(Y/n)!” that was Green Lantern’s voice.

“Damnit, (Y/n), where are you?” Jason called out again.

“Ophelius?” you whispered his name but there was no response, the alien was dead and he had left you with the last ring of the White Lanterns.

A hand landed on your shoulder and as you turned your eyes met the cowl covered ones of the Batman. His costume was such a stark contrast to what you were now wearing. Your previous attire had been your costume, a black armour-padded halter top, utility belt, military-grade camoflauge-printted dark cargo pants with a kevlar weave and combat boots. Now? Now you were wearing the exact same thing in white, but it felt different somehow, like there was something thrumming in each thread.

“Here,” the Bat’s gravelly voice called out.

A second later Jason came bounding through the smoke, the Green Lantern right behind him. GL’s eyes narrowed on the alien and then on you.

“That’s impossible,” he muttered.

“Woah,” Jason noted.

“He’s dead,” you whispered, staring at the pale alien and straight into his lifeless purple eyes.

“(Y/n)?” Jason crept closer and squatted down beside you.

“I didn’t think he was going to die,” you whispered, looking at the alien and then to your hands which were covered in his purple blood.

“Hey, doll,” Jason said the term softly, forcing you to look at him, “what’s going on in your head?”

“I just wanted to see the spaceship,” you admitted turning to Jason with glassy eyes.

“What did he say?” Green Lantern interrupted.

“Be the light,” you muttered.

“What?” GL pressed.

“He told me to be the light,” you repeated, eyes still glued to the dead alien.

Shakily you reached your hand out, and gently you shut the alien’s eyes, a tear slipping down your cheek, Ophelius had read our life in seconds, but his presence was still so fresh in your mind, it hurt more than you were expecting when he died.

“We need to debrief her at the Watchtower, now,” Green Lantern pushed.

“No, you need to back off,” Jason growled suddenly.

“Hood, stand down,” Batman warned.

“Back off, old man,” Jason threatened, standing back up. “She’s in shock, you robots!”

“Red,” your hand automatically moves towards his side. Gently it rests against his hip and he turns to you. “Hood,” your fingers grip into one of his thigh holsters, needing something to hold onto.

“Let’s go,” Jason huffed.

He grabbed your hand, not caring about the purple blood now on his own hands and suit, and helped you up, one hand went to your back almost immediately as he forced you to move forward.

“Jase,” you said his name softly as he pulled you away from Ophelius’ body. “Jay, stop,” you fight his hand as you force him to stop moving.

“What, doll? What is it?” he asked, hands moving to your arms.

“We have to go with them,” you mutter.

“No way. We’re not doing their dance, not today, not now,” he argued.

Your gaze dropped to your stained hands, and the ring now on your finger, “we have to.”

Safe to say Jason was not pleased to end up in the Batcave twenty minutes later. Sure, it was better than the Watchtower, but it was still more than he wanted. But you were going, and if you were going then so was he. You were his partner and there was no way he was going to leave you in any Justice League madness on your own. Your hands were still stained purple, he hadn’t even given you a chance to clean up before deciding to start the lecture. Surprisingly, it wasn’t Batman, this time it was GL.

“-absolutely reckless, going out on your own into an uncleared sight. Touching an alien that you didn’t know, talking with it instead of calling us? I mean what kind of bullheaded move is that!” you would have laughed if he wasn’t yelling at you. Hal Jordan was usually one of the more relaxed Leaguers, so this was very uncharacteristic.

“Give it a rest, Hal,” Jason finally groaned.

“I haven’t even gotten to you, yet, I mean you let her wander off,” Hal reared.

“I let her?” Jason scoffed. “In case you missed it, she’s a fully grown woman!” Jason shot back.

“Oh, for the love of god,” you interrupted. “Are you going to help me or not, Hal?” you asked him, hands flat on the table while you stood, looking at him definitely, everybody’s masks were off at this point as you addressed each other.

GL seemed taken aback by your abrupt interruption because for a second he just gaped.

“Oh, now he has nothing to say,” Jason scoffed and you leveled your best friend with a look.

“Jason, not helping,” you tell him, he simply sighed and sat back down.

“Look, Hal, this happened and you know better than anyone whether we want it or not, this ring is mine, so you can help me or you can get out of my way,” you lamented, and he sighed, shoulders dropping.

“You don’t understand,” he shared.

“Understand what?” you pressed.

“The White Lantern’s were supposed to be extinct. The power that comes with a White Lantern’s Light is categorically insurmountable,” he explained and your brows furrowed.

“What?” you repeated.

“You encompass all the colors, (y/n)! All of them! As a Green Lantern I focus on the powers of Green. We are the middle of the spectrum, we maintain the balance, but white? White is all the colors, you can’t focus solely on one in risk of losing balance. You have to learn to balance it all.”

“She can do it,” Jason argued.

“It takes years!” Hal shot back, “She doesn’t even know the Lantern’s spectrum!” he negated and your brain made the connection.

“Love, Compassion, Hope, Fear, Greed, and Anger,” you mutter.

“What did you say?” GL’s head snapped back to you in seconds.

“That’s what he asked me about, he read my mind, looked into my memories. Specifically of Love, Compassion, Hope, Fear, Greed, and Anger,” you tell them, and Hal finally shuts his mouth.

“What else did he say?” Batman spoke up for the first time since arriving back at the cave, his cowl was off as he stared at you.

“A mantra,” you tell him.

“A mantra?” Jason repeated, eyebrow quirked.

“In brightest day there will be light, to cleanse the soul, and set wrongs right. When darkness falls, look to the skies. A new dawn comes, let there be light,” you repeat, the words tugging at your gut as your fingers fidget with the new ring.

“Sounds familiar,” Bruce noted, turning his attention back to the Green Lantern.

Hal ran a hand over his face and groaned.

“I don’t get it,” you admit.

“The ring is only part of it,” He begins, unsurely. “It’s powerful, sure, but most of the colored lantern corps need to recharge the ring with a battery. We all have a, how’d you call it, a mantra? Yeah, we all have one. It’s different for each spectrum, and we use it to pull the energy from the battery to the rings, but a white lantern is different, there is no battery,” he explained and your brows furrowed.

“Okay… so how do I recharge?” you asked.

“Through your own energy,” Hal admits and you blink at him.

“What, like draining her own life source?” Jason scoffed.

“Not exactly, it’s supposed to be more like channeling the different emotions into energy for the rings, if done right there should be no negative side effects. But like I stated she’s not prepared, it can take years to learn how to channel your energy the right way, and if she’s not, she could kill herself.”

“That’s not terrifying at all,” you sarcastically assure Hal.

“Hey, I’m not the one who told you to run off!” he countered. “You were irresponsible! And reckless! Honestly, what were you thinking, galavanting off into some crash before the smoke’s even cleared!” he's shouting again and it’s starting to piss you off.

Your fist clenches and then you’re standing up again, “Stop shouting at me!”

Your chest is heaving as you glare at the lantern, but instead of glaring back at you, he’s staring with wide eyes.

“Woah,” Jason's murmur is what pulls your attention.

“What?” you snap, gaze shifting to him.

“Doll,” Jason’s voice was as soft as it’s ever been, “you’re glowing.”

Jason’s eyes were also a bit wide and when you stared down at your hands, you saw that he was right. A sort of white glow seemed to be emanating from your body, in fact it was lighting up the whole cave.

“I- I don’t-” you stuttered.

“This is what I’m talking about, you’re not balancing your emotions!” Hal began again. “You’re letting the Entity take control!”

“Hal,” Bruce finally spoke up, effectively stopping the lantern. He stalked closer to you and a heavy hand came down on your shoulder. You met his eyes and he nodded gently, “take a breath, (Y/n),” he instructed. You nodded and took a deep inhale. “Again,” he told you once you had exhaled, and you followed his instructions.

You repeated the process a few times but you noticed as the light began to fade and your heart rate settled.

He turned to Hal, “Control is teachable, Hal. Curiosity isn’t,” he reminded him.

You stared at Bruce for a second, there were moments when you could see the dad in him showing, and you could never reconcile that version of him with the Bat. They seemed like two completely different people, it was easy to understand Jason’s irritation. Living with someone who could be so different depending on the hour would take a toll on anyone for sure. Your gaze shifted from Bruce to Hal with a furrowed brow, “What Entity?” you press.

“What?” he stuttered.

“You said that the Entity was taking control, what Entity?” you asked.

Hal sighed before finally collapsing in a chair, “The White Lanterns are the physical embodiment of the Entity, which is the power of life itself. White Lanterns are dangerous and unpredictable, Kyle was closest we’ve ever seen to a true White Lantern. But even then, he was a Green Lantern first, and the Entity reverted him back to the Green Lanterns after. You’re wearing the first real White Lantern ring I’ve ever seen. It’s not like the ones Kyle created, and that’s alarming because it just reminds me that there is so much we don’t know about White Lanterns.”

“So you’re saying that the force behind the White Lanterns is life itself, and it manifests as an Entity which has no real form but white light. Which is why it needs me, a ring bearer?” you surmise, squinting at Hal as you put things together.

“Yes,” he nods and you turn back to Bruce.

“What do you think?” you asked him seriously and Bruce just stared at you.

You may not be his biggest fan most days, but there was no doubt that Bruce Wayne was a brilliant critical thinker, and if anyone could help you right now, it was going to be him. “I think the rings choose the wearer. Meaning nothing short of killing you will result in removing the ring’s attachment to you,” he begins and your brow quirked.

“We are not killing her!” Jason interrupted, and the corners of your lips quirked.

“There’s only one thing to do, train,” Bruce agreed with a small smirk.

“Train?” you repeat.

“And who do you think is going to train her?” Hal interrupted.

“I’d expect it to be you, Jordan, or any of your counterparts, though I do feel both you and John Stewart would have better luck when compared to Guy Gardner, Jessica Cruz and Kyle Rayner,” Bruce shot back and Hal’s eyes blew wide.

“Me?” Hal shot back. “What do I know about training anyone?” he scoffed.

“There’s a learning curve,” Bruce shrugged, eyes lingering on Jason for a second.

“Your nonchalance is inspiring,” you muse, eyes darting over to Jason who was now focused on Hal.

“No dead birds, Jordan,” Jason warns, and you almost choke on your responding laugh.

...

a/n: ps: i know i play a little fast and loose with the lantern rules, im open to suggestions!

everything tags: @butterfly-skinnylegend

dc taglist: @batarella @loninctzencarat @escapenightmare @uh-oh-howd-i-get-here

[spideysquake]

private, and so so happy

kit connor x famous!reader social media au

part one

youruser

liked by joelocke03, kitconnor, and others

youruser god i've missed new york... even the subway

read all 18,284 comments

joelocke03 need to get me another job in new york so i can bother you both all the time

⤷ youruser we miss you honey!

user4 our girl will never be found without a glass of wine she's SO real

user5 so we're all gonna act like we didn't see the maybe ring on her finger in her last story???? where is the gossip!

madelyncline my darling angel baby, new york really does make you glow

kitconnor’s story

yourprivateuser

liked by rachelzegler, ambikamod, and others

yourprivateuser look how hot and sexy and gorgeous my boyfriend* is!!! i love him so much!!

*-ish

read all 28 comments

rachelzegler boyfriend? did you miss a chapter???

kitconnor i'm grinning at my phone... you have me GRINNING at my PHONE

⤷ yourprivateuser i could write a million letters about my love for you and it'll still never be enough

⤷ joelocke03 okay we get it, you're a songwriter and you're in love BUT I'M IN YOUR WALLS

youruser

liked by kitconnor, rachelzegler, and others

youruser last month, my favorite boy and bestest friend asked me a very important question. and i love him too much for my answer to have been anything but yes. i love you, kit.

tagged: kitconnor

read all 37,294 comments

rachelzegler my babies are getting married, this is the greatest day of my life

kitconnor you are the greatest thing that has ever happened to me, i cannot wait to be with you every single day forever

⤷ user6 i think this might be the single most romantic thing i've ever read

kitandynfanaccount nobody can tell me SHIT ever i have WON

kitconnor

liked by youruser, joelocke03, and others

kitconnor i love this woman with everything in me and it will be the greatest pleasure of my life to be her husband

tagged: youruser

read all 36,192 comments

youruser my absolute favorite person in the world, i can't stop looking at my ring and thinking about how we get to spend forever together

joelocke03 dibs on best man, love you both <3

user7 how is it possible that the most romantic woman in the world found the most romantic man in the world and they're going to get married and be the most romantic couple of all time

youruser’s story

author's note: i love this couple! i love making smau's! please request more! yes, i'm drying to distract myself from a pending audition! love you guys

xx daisy

[sillygoosealert]

hiii🌚🌚 you should totally make a little thing where we’re running from danny during a trial and get stuck in a window while trying to vault and yk.. he fucks us from behind and it’s like a “help me step bro i’m stuck🥺” kinda position yk HEHEHE 😈😈😈

Sorry i fell off the face of the earth for a few days i had to like idk reset myself ☆(≧∀≦*)ﾉ

Never say step bro I'm stuck again I'm not even joking I'll block you, Stinky

Danny Johnson NSFW, raw, has no aftercare, and a little plot but mainly smut, he’s MEAN (cannon bc because he murders people), um actually he's also COCKY (cannon bc he kills people), and he calls you piggy ( cannon because he likes horror and that is a black Christmas reference) knife stuff

Fog whisps around you as you are forced into another trial. Another day another round. Is it day, or is it night? You may never find the answer.

The entity is cruel in your clothing, a skirt to your mid-thigh, and a button down. Nothing to keep in the warmth. Nothing to hide you from the reality that is the cold red forest.

You think your teammates must all be together- not including you, because a generator is done at lightning speed. Then you hear guttural screams, plural, also at lightning speed. Maybe you shouldn't get them, you'll too just die. Survival of the fittest. They won't remember the trial if you let them die, it's like they have a reset- or something.

You're crouching, lurking, and waiting. Not for long, as The Ghostface jumps out at you.

‘Boo’

He's snickering and taunting you. Mocking the screams of your now-fallen teammates.

A jungle gym is in sight, if you abuse the window and stun him, perhaps the hatch could be located. Maybe you're too tubby, or maybe because the entity is against you, but the window gets blocked from the top halfway through. You do not make it, you are stuck.

He’s snorting and making animal noises behind you.

‘What’s the entity feeding you that you can’t get through the windows?’

‘Oh, it’s blocked.’

He grabs your thighs and tries to pull you out. However, his pullout game must be weak as you do not budge.

He keeps his hands on your thighs as he whistles.

‘Can you not get out?’

‘No?’

‘Does this happen a lot?’

‘First time actually’

You're shivering, it's too much. He's too casual about it.

‘I could cut you in half and play magician, that would be rather amusing ’

‘Please don't’

‘Do you have something else in mind, piggy?’

Nothing. Actually, you're crying a little, but you don't say anything.

He starts to coo and awe at your noises, rubbing and kneading your ass.

He goes around to your other side and pulls out his camera. You’re a mess. Wiping away tears from your cheeks and eyes.

‘That's it. Perfect. That's the picture I'll keep of you.’

He’s taking a couple photo’s. More than needed. Maybe he likes it when you cry, the glossy kind of look.

‘Just me and you babe, whatever will we do?’

He snaps the band on your panties. You just realize nothing is left to his imagination from where he is now standing again.

‘Are you scared?’

‘A little’

There isn't any reason to tell the truth or lie to him. But you think he likes it when you're scared, something kinky.

The cold plastic of his mask is pressed into your ass. He's sniffing you..?

You can feel the squeeze of his hands on your thighs, groaning into them.

He takes off the mask, not that you can him. But the feel of his warm tongue is enough to assume he took it off.

But that's not the only thing to come off, as he slips off your panties as well.

Spreading open your folds, you can hear the shudder of the camera as he takes pictures of your pussy.

You know it's wet, it was dripping on your underwear. What lewd photos he now will have. Blackmail material?

He begins sucking on your clit, shoving his face into you.

Messy, unplanned, and purely out of want.

That's not how Danny usually went. Besides all the times he did things out of rage, like the laser tag incident..

After he's mixed his spit into your cunt, he's ready.

Pulling up his cloak and pulling down his pants, he stares at you.

You're pretty. And you have a nice ass.

Maybe you would make a good girlfriend, maybe.

But he just wants to fuck you right now, really hard

He pumps himself before sliding in.

He's thick, but also kinda lean?

You're shaking again, this is much too abrupt for you

Pinching your leg, he pulls out his blade.

‘A little blood never hurt anyone, right?’

He starts to cut into your thigh. His thrust growing more erotic

Putting the knife away, he smacks the place he just sliced up

Yelping, you start to cry, again.

‘I like that- you crying. Sob for me’

‘You're doing good, do you like merely laying there as you get violated? This could happen to anyone, whore or not. Does that scare you?’

A rhetorical question, he just wants you to cry while he scratches your bleeding leg.

He starts to rub your clit, whipping his knife out again.

‘Where do you want me to put my signature?’

‘It hurts- stop, please..’

Caving GF into your back is a blur to both of you, as he is still occasionally slapping your body around while thrusting considerably too hard

He pulls out and cums all over your wounds, covering them slightly in semen.

‘People would be shaking if they saw this. Are you shaking because of me?’

You didn't even realize you weren't stuck anymore. Only after you fell backward you realized.

‘I'm going to let you go back. But I want you to tell them what I did to you- scare them. Let them know they are not safe from me.’

‘Okay, I promise, I'll tell them’

He picks you up and walks around with you clinging to him.

When you are near the hatch, he puts you down.

‘A picture- for you, to keep’

He's sitting with you on the ground, keeping you in his lap. Putting his face right next to yours- actually, you don't remember when he put the mask back on. You didn't get to see his face.

The light hurts, but he gives you a little polaroid with the two of you face to face, cheek to cheek.

It would be cute if he didn't just cut up your legs

Tucking the photo into your bra, he drops you into the hatch. How kind of him.

He waves goodbye, you do not wave back.

It wasn't bad, it was just a lot. Rushed? Scary? Harmful?

Kinda hot, but you really hope he doesn't keep those photos. For blackmail reasons..

🎀

[ltadoriyuujl]

companion piece to this post, but now we're jumping over to deku. set about 2 months after the bkg visit. izuku's in heat and he has big feelings about it

cw: omegaverse

"Don't laugh."

"I wasn't going to."

"You were! You did that thing where you take a deep breath and bite your bottom lip-"

"Okay, okay, so maybe I was going to laugh. But you can't blame me."

"You're horrible."

Izuku tried not to pout, but it was a losing battle. He was crouched at the far end of his outrageously spacious walk-in closet while his wife—gods above, he was still amazed and awed that he got to call her that—leaned against the doorway, amusement evident in her gaze. The point of their contention was the pile of fabric he was crouched over, consisting of two blankets, three pillows, and a white shirt far too small to belong to him.

"Starlight," she pleaded with him, the nickname making his stomach flutter. "Be reasonable."

"You can't tell me what my nest is supposed to look like!"

"Then it's a good thing you've built a fancy soldier's cot and not a nest."

She laughed as she fluidly dodged the pillow he lobbed at her. The pout was on full display at that point and growing stronger by the minute, but he didn't stop her when she began to move closer. She knelt in front of him and his makeshift nest, her lips lifted into the same soft smile he fell in love with.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked, hand coming up to brush a curl out of his face. He was so deep in pre-heat pheromones he could almost see her scent curling up out of the glands at the base of her neck and enveloping him in a comforting haze.

"Talk about what?" His hindbrain quieted a bit as he inhaled, taking her in by the noseful. She waved a hand lazily, encompassing both his shoddy attempt at building a safe heat space and the general air around them, thick with the smell of distressed omega.

Izuku sighed and moved from his squat to a proper sit, some of the tension bleeding out of his frame at last. "It's dumb."

"I don't care. If it's bothering you, I want to hear it."

For a moment he didn't speak, his emerald eyes dragging over the ornate drawers, alcoves and wardrobes decorating the room. It was almost as big as the entirety of his old home. He didn't even have enough clothes to fill up a fraction of the storage, though the empress was quickly working to rectify that. His gaze finally settled back on her face, and he exhaled long and slow.

"I don't think I know how to be an omega." The confession was quiet, meant only for the space between them. "My mother raised me as best she could, but between her job and the fact that she's a beta, it's not like she had the time or expertise to help me with the finer points of things. I didn't exactly have a ton of friends growing up either and on top of all of that, I turned 18 while I was in training. The guard isn't keen to have their promising recruits down and out because of pesky things like biological urges, so..."

Understanding began to dawn on his wife's face. "You only went off suppressants when we got married. This is your first heat ever."

Izuku nodded, his fingers drumming anxiously against his thighs. "Everything is so…overwhelming. Like the day before you get sick when you know it's coming and you feel off but nothing's really happened yet. I guess I thought my instincts would rumble to life out of nowhere and tell me what to do but…" He rubbed the fabric of one of the blankets between his fingers. "Clearly that's not the case."

His wife made a sympathetic noise and moved closer, their knees almost touching. One of her hands came up to scratch at the hair near the base of his skull and Izuku had to fight past the purrs building in his chest to continue speaking.

"Must paint a pretty stark contrast, huh?" He chuckled, low and self-deprecating. "One consort raised in the lap of luxury with all the tools an omega could ever need to be a perfect partner, and another that's better at swinging a broadsword than homemaking. You really don't discriminate, do you?"

She didn't even crack a smile at his (admittedly, pretty bad) joke, her brow furrowing as a look of confusion settled on her features. "I didn't marry you just because you were standing in front of me and happened to be an omega. I did it because of this," the hand not in his hair pressed against his heart, "and this," the tip of her perfectly manicured finger poked his forehead. "You're important to me, Izu. Not your social status, not what's between your legs, just you."

Her words didn't exactly lift the whole weight of his worries off his chest, but they sure as hell made the load lighter. The purrs he'd been trying to suppress came out in full force, and she smiled as the vibrations from his chest traveled through her arm into her own body. Leaning forwards, he laid his forehead against her shoulder and they stayed like that for a while, basking in each other's company.

Eventually, Izuku spoke again. "If nothing else about our lives changed, but I was an alpha, would you still be with me?"

Her laugh filled his ears like church bells. "I would engage each member of my council in single combat if it meant I could still marry the alpha version of you. We could flip a coin for who fucks who during our ruts."

She could see the edges of his grin dimpling his freckled cheek. "You really don't discriminate."

"Nope. Now, let's get you a nesting base and some better material, there's work to be done."

[daisydeacks]

Neighborly

A/N I just realized I never posted this to Tumblr :3 so I'm gonna! Chapters 1 thru 3 under this - John Price x f!reader NSFW Ao3 Link

The two of you had yet to cross any sort of real line other than ‘just really good friends,’ scared to ruin the tightnit friendship.

Just ‘really good friends’ who drunkenly make out on one of your respective couches before muttering about alcohol and influences before retreating back into their respective homes.

Or the dozens of handfuls of times the two of you had been unable to sleep and curl up with the other in the dark of the night. Two touch starved people content to hide away with each other.

or

You and John Price are neighbors.

Chapter 1

You gasp into your hand as your fingers rub tight circles against your clit, your eyes rolling back as your hips rocked and bucked against your own ministrations, that familiar band growing tight low in your abdomen as you muffle whines into your fist. Your legs begin to shake, your heels digging into the mattress- 

Your phone rings suddenly- loudly . A detached wail tears itself from your throat as you lose it, lose the knot in you that was ready to snap at any second. You throw your hand to your bedside table, misty eyes glaring at the screen.

RESTRICTED NUMBER

Oh. Oh no.

You flush deeply as you realize that you’re panting, the hand that was once nestled between your thighs quickly wiping against your stomach as you move to sit up in your bed. You swallow air as you adjust yourself, ears almost ringing as you press the green answer button on the screen. 

“H-hello?” You cough, adjusting against the headboard as the stickiness between your legs starts to become just noticeable enough to be mildly irritating. 

“Y/N?” The voice- his voice- comes through the speaker with a richness you’ll never adjust to. A shiver rolls through you as you smile. 

“John,” You reply before forcing yourself to sit up straight on your bed, legs crossing. You smile as you hear his gentle sigh, followed by a just as soft laugh at the sound of his name from you. 

“Did I catch you at a bad time, sweetheart?”   

You feel yourself warm at the pet name. Your smile softens as you press the phone closer to your ear, your free hand falling down to pick at your sheets. Need to wash these tonight the voice in your head mumbles as a quick thought. 

“Mm, not bad enough that I didn’t answer.” The frustration from earlier was rapidly melting with your conversation; you knew it was him as soon as you saw the number was hidden. “How are you doing?” 

“Ah,” He sighs, and you hear him shuffle on the other end of the line, papers being moved and rustled in the background, “The usual, I s’pose. Paperwork and the matter at the moment.” He’s silent for a few moments. “Should be home in a few days,” he adds quietly. You arch your eyebrows at that, teeth immediately sinking into your bottom lip. Your stomach does an anxious flip at the thought of seeing the man again.

John was a neighbor of yours in the building, his little slice of personal space located just across from your own. The two of you met when you were originally moving in. 

He was leaving when you first ran into each other, a duffle bag slung over his shoulder as he shoved himself through his front door. He somehow seemed entirely too large for the regular sized door, the sight of him and the bag squeezing through the frame causing you to bite back a laugh as the man cursed lowly under his breath.   

You had stopped in front of your own door to watch him, your arms carrying a cardboard box. Your gaze immediately zoned in on his toned biceps, arms and shoulders flexing almost obnoxiously under his thin shirt as he threw the bag back over his shoulder while he attempted to lock his door.  

He had glanced back at you with a breathy laugh, blue eyes a beacon under the oh so silly tilly hat placed on top of his head, teeth bright against his beard. “Ah, sorry,” he straightened as he turned towards you and it was then you could really admire his height, “‘m John. You must be the new neighbor, yeah?”   

You felt your face burn as you stared up at him, your eyes wide as you took him in. You blinked after a moment, shoving a hand out awkwardly from under the box in your arms. “Y-Yes! Yes, I’m Y/N,” You rushed out, a nervous smile tugging at your mouth. “It’s nice to meet you, John.”   

John’s grip on your hand had been gentle yet firm. From there the two of you were almost inseparable when the man was home or on leave, although the two of you had yet to cross any sort of real line other than ‘just really good friends,’ scared to ruin the tightnit friendship. 

Just ‘really good friends’ who drunkenly make out on one of your respective couches before muttering about alcohol and influences before retreating back into their respective homes. 

Or the dozens of handfuls of times the two of you had been unable to sleep and curl up with the other in the dark of the night. Two touch starved, lonely people content to hide away with each other. 

You felt another wave of warmth wash through you, this time of comfort. 

“A few days, huh?” You can’t hide the smile in your tone, the hint of relief. 

John hums through the receiver. After a beat of silence he speaks again. “ Been thinkin’ about that chicken soup you made that one time last year.. .” His tone is innocent as he trails off. 

You roll your eyes as a blush burns at your cheeks and ears before you focus on the window in your bedroom. Fat droplets of water continue to splat themselves against the glass. You could make it again for him, the weather was right for it and it was easy enough- just left to simmer all day in your crock pot while you were at work or cleaning. 

“Oh?” You hum as you prop your chin on the palm of your hand, elbow digging into your leg. “Have you now? The MREs not cuttin’ it anymore?” Your tone is teasing as you grin. John groans and you can’t help the laugh that bubbles out from your chest at how broken the sound is. The two of you are quiet after a few moments before you sigh softly. You hesitate before you speak again. “I miss you.” Your voice is quiet; you were always nervous to admit that to John, unsure of where you stood in his life. 

You hear a similar dejected sigh come from the man on the other end of the phone. “ I miss you too, love. ” 

Your lips twitch in a sad smile at the response, your sheets shuffling as you move to bring your knees to your chest the best you could. You frown as you stare at your pruney fingers, your previous acts almost forgotten. You get off of your bed with a huff, the frame creaking under the shift in weight. 

“ You already in bed? ” John questions, hearing the sound of your bed frame. You hum as your cheeks flush again, exhaling sharply as you bend down to pick up your shorts that you had discarded earlier. 

“Just sat down when you called.” The lie leaves your mouth easily and he hums in response. Sounds of shuffling reach your ears again from his end. “Why are you still up? Isn’t it late for you?”

You sense John’s hesitation and you pause your own movements, waistband of your shorts slapping against your skin quietly as your fingers let it go. 

“I missed you.” He finally responds. His voice was low, tone soft. “Wanted to hear your voice, talk to you. Worth it to stay awake a bit longer for that in my opinion.”  

You ignore the weight in your chest, the tears that want to prick at your eyes. 

“Yeah?” It comes out as a whisper. You’re afraid your voice would crack otherwise. 

“.. Yeah.”  

You pull the phone from your ear as you inhale with a stutter, eyes still burning with unshed tears as a sad smile pulls at your mouth. “Well, I’ll get the makings for that soup and we can have it when you’re back,” you leave your bedroom, wandering towards your bathroom, “how’s that sound?” 

John breathes out a loud exhale, that beautiful, breathy laugh once again invading your senses. It almost sounds relieved. 

You can almost smell the cigar smoke that follows him like an aura. 

“You spoil me.”  

“Mm,” you shrug as if he could see it, “well, you kinda deserve it for staying alive this long, I guess. Doing what you do and whatnot. And who else is gonna?” 

He didn’t tell you much of what he did, couldn’t from what you understood, but you knew it was a Captain in the military and that he was damn good at what he did. 

“ Astute point.” He snorts and you smile at the sound, tears quickly drying in your eyes.

A knock is heard from his end of the call and he sighs. Your smile wavers. “Gotta go?” 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” His voice is quieter. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”  

Your smile returns. “It’s okay. Goodnight, John.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”  The call ends and you’re left shirtless in your dark hallway, millions of different emotions rolling through you like a storm.

Chapter 2

It’s late into the night, almost early morning as you lean against your kitchen counter, a warm mug held in your hands as you stare blankly at the cabinets across from you. You adjust the towel that sits atop your head before bringing the mug to your lips, the smell of chicken broth filling your senses. You inhale deeply, eyes slipping shut before you sip at the liquid. You swallow with a content sigh, a few exhausted tears slipping from your eyes. 

You’re like that for a while longer. Sipping, sniffling quietly, upset that you can’t sleep and that you’re still awake, but thankful your soup was still in the crockpot and ready to peck at. You’re skimming more broth off the top when there’s a soft knock at your front door. Your stomach flips at the noise and you almost wonder if you’ve imagined it until your phone buzzes on the laminate counter. 

John 3164 minutes ago: That smell coming from you?1 minute ago: Guess I’ll find outNow: Knock knock, I hear you paddering in there 

Your eyes widen at the missed messages and you hurry to the door through the dimly lit flat, fingers quickly flicking the locks on the door and swinging it open. 

John’s looking down at you with a tired smile once he’s in your sight, the circles surrounding his bright eyes more noticeable than usual. You return the smile, stepping aside to allow the man in. 

“I made soup.” Your voice is barely above a whisper as you lock the door behind him, and John hums softly, easily trailing behind you through your living room and into the kitchen. The only light comes from the dim bulb above your stove, casting the small space in an almost orange glow. “Garfield or cow mug?” 

You hear a chuckle, and a warmth appear behind you as John looks into your cup cabinet over your head. “‘Now to inject a little humor.’” John reads aloud. The mug has Garfield in a little red cross nurse’s hat while holding a comically large needle, fit with his regular smile. You hear another huff in amusement before he rests a hand on your shoulder, fingers massaging for a moment before they drop. “I’ll take the cat, that’s pretty good.” 

You immediately miss the warmth of his hand. A blush burns at your cheeks and you nod and reach for the mug, a smile tugging at your lips. It almost feels foreign after sitting slack faced for so long. John grabs a spoon from the silverware drawer in your kitchen before leaning against your counter next to you, and you arch an eyebrow as you pass the mug into his hands. 

“Make yourself right at home, why don’t you.” It comes out as a tease, and you grab your own mug and return to his side. John feigns a hurt sound, almost betrayed, his elbow gentle poking you in the ribs. You look up with a laugh, relief flooding you at the sight of his smile crinkled eyes. “You know-” 

“I know you’re kidding.” He finishes with his own chuff before sinking his spoon into the soup he now held. “Don’t think you could get rid of me now, though, dear,” he hums as he sniffs at the soup, “this smells way too good.” He’s side eyeing you as he opens his mouth, and you watch with an insane amount of focus as the spoon enters his mouth, how his tongue is lapping at the bottom of the spoon-

You snap out of the trance as his lips close around the spoon. A moan erupts deep from his chest as his eyes slip shut and you gasp and smack his arm, causing John to cough with a sputtering laugh. “Jesus Christ, John!” You hiss, your cheeks feeling impossibly warm. “It’s fucking soup, I can’t imagine it warrents that -” 

“Oh, dear, it does .” John groans again and you scoff a laugh, your chin dropping to your chest. You shake your head before leaning back against the counter, John copying your movements. You hesitate a moment before resting your head on the side of his arm, bringing your mug up to your mouth. 

“Well,” you take a sip of the broth before looking up at John, a nervous smile wringing at your lips as how close he was, “I’m glad you like it.” 

John’s looking at you with something in his deep blue eyes you can’t quite place, his lips twitching under his beard. It has your stomach lurching, your muscles frozen, almost afraid to move; to lose the moment. You both seem to swallow at the same time before he’s leaning down, pressing a kiss to your cheek. You close your eyes, your body almost immediately melting against him. You can feel his smile against your skin before he’s pulling back, hand bringing his mug of soup towards his mouth. 

You open your eyes when he pulls away, watching him eat the soup with a small smile of your own before leaning against him once again. 

The two of you spent a good amount of time like that, enjoying each other’s company, murmuring back and forth about your respective days, how the weather is becoming colder, that more rain was to be expected. 

John returned to his own flat after a while, and you crawled into your empty bed with a sigh, face buried into one of your pillows. 

You’re not sure how long you were like that before you heard your phone vibrate from where it rested on your blanket. You throw your hand over, heart racing as you squint at the screen. 

John 316Now: Still can’t sleep. You?

You gnawed on your bottom lip, deciding your next move. 

Your fingers sent the short message easily. 

Nope. 

You felt your ears burn as the message was immediately marked as read, a little thought bubble soon appearing in the corner, signaling his typing. It then disappeared before there was a knock at your door once again. You stumbled out of bed and throughout your dark flat, easily navigating to your front door before you opened it. You squinted as the hall light peered in from behind John, the man quietly slipping in your door before closing it behind him. 

The two of you stared at each other for a few moments, eyes adjusting once again to the dark. John’s tongue ran across his teeth, his eyes focused on you as if he were considering something. You clenched your own jaw before flicking your eyes towards your hallway. 

The two of you had discussed before how touch starved you both were (although, those exact words were never used); how hard it was sometimes to sleep alone. Those conversations normally happened on nights like these, where the two of you could wake up in the morning and pretend you didn’t have such honest conversations with someone who is supposed to just be your neighbor. 

That night neither of you said a word as you walked quietly back to your bedroom, John close behind you, his warm hand enveloping yours. The two of you hesitantly curled up together in your bed, his face in your neck, your fingers in his hair. 

In the morning you woke to the sound of muffled snoring along the back of your neck, John’s heavy arm still holding you close to him. You panicked for a moment before the late night memory returned to you and you relaxed, your hand resting atop his that held you around your waist. His warm breaths caused goosebumps to raise along your skin and you allowed yourself to sink back into him, eyes slipping shut once again. 

A smile tugged at your mouth as his arm tightened around you, pulling you impossibly closer to his broad chest. Your chest felt tight for a moment before you shook your head, closing your eyes once again, telling yourself that you would worry about the consequences later.

Chapter 3

It had been over two weeks (18 days, to be exact, not that you were supposed to be counting- you told yourself) since you had heard anything from John. The last time you had spoken to him he had said he’d be home in a few days, secret promises of continuing your faux partnership once he was back lacing the short conversation. After the first week of no sign of John your stomach hurt. A few days- seven was more than a few, wasn’t it? A constant feeling of unease and nausea gripped at you tightly, your stomach and head almost always aching. You weren’t sleeping, less than you already did at least, and you silently wished you took John up on that emergency contact offer once the second week officially came.

“Just in case,” he had said, his calloused fingers massaging at your head gently. The two of you had been curled up in his bed, your head on his chest. 

“I don’t want to bother you if you’re busy, John.” You had (stupidly) responded. You opened your eyes, twisting in his hold to meet his curious gaze. “And if something did happen, how would you help from wherever you are?” 

John had frowned at that, but he knew you had a point. The two of you returned to sitting in silence as you held each other, some World War II documentary playing from the laptop on his lap.  

After officially two weeks of no contact your nausea had turned into anxiety ridden vomiting, and eating when you could stomach it. Anytime you thought of John you were rubbing your eyes with frustrated tears threatening to spill out. Each passing minute you wished you had agreed to getting the phone number from him; you were lying to yourself at the time, trying to convince each other you weren’t as important to the other as you let on.  

One of your coworkers (and friend, you supposed), Vicky, had noticed the bags under your eyes, how exhausted you seemed mentally. She rolled up next to you at your desk in her swivel chair, her shoulder bumping against yours as she slid to a stop. She watched as you continued to stare at the un-answered messages on your phone. She decided then that whoever that John was, he was missing out. You were a catch!

“Let’s go out!” Her face was suddenly invading your personal space, her tone all too chipper for being at work. You bit back the grimace that threatened to paint your features, your phone dropping to your desk before a shaking hand grabbed your mug of tea. You hid behind the mug as you forced a sip in your mouth. 

“What?” You managed after swallowing, eyeing the woman cautiously. 

“Look at you,” Vicky sighed, leaning back in her chair as she looked you over. You frowned, glancing down at yourself. “Let’s go out tonight. It’s Friday! And a three day weekend! You’ll still get your weekend if you don’t have fun.” She arched her well manicured eyebrows as she stared at you pointedly, not really leaving room for you to decline. 

You hesitated, glancing at the time and date in the corner of your computer screen. Your teeth start to involuntarily gnaw on your bottom lip. What if John came home tonight while you were gone?  

The sound of your name from Vicky causes you to jump, jolting you in your seat. You return her stare briefly before looking down into your tea. 

“Fine, I’ll-“ 

“Good!” Vicky squeals and you do grimace at the sharp noise, hands tightening around your mug. “Dress slutty! We’re goin’ out!” She giggles and hugs you, and you stiffen under her touch before she’s scooting back to her own desk. You just rubbed at your head as you sighed.

After work that night you got ready. You’re not as put together as you would be regularly, but you look better than you had been. Black dress, some make up, your hair washed and done. You’d be lying if you denied feeling even a little better just being slightly dolled up. 

The night is fast paced, Vicky’s hand constantly in yours, pulling you from bar to bar, your legs uneasy in your heels. Something you notice about Vicky, though, is that the moment a drop of alcohol touches the tip of her tongue, she’s babbling away about anything and everything. You didn’t mind it too much, really. It kept you from having to think of things to say as your thoughts grew slow and garbled as the night went on. 

At some point, in some bar, the two of you had found a little table. One of those ones with the ridiculously tall stools you have to fight your way on top of. And after about 30 seconds of staring at each other your co-worker breaks into a sloppy grin. 

“I gotta… piss.” Vicky giggles the word before she hops off her seat and quickly waddles away into the crowd. You snorted a laugh into your drink before you took the chance to dig your phone out, fingers tapping away on the screen. You open your text messages out of habit, and your vision seems to zero in on your unread messages, everything else around you suddenly blurry and out of focus. 

About a week ago they had stopped delivering altogether. You were sure it was just his phone was dead, but part of you wondered if he had secretly moved and blocked you away from his existence- or even worse, not just his phone was dead, but him- 

You felt tears burn in your eyes at the thoughts racing through your mind. You clenched your eyes shut as you locked your phone, shaking your head. You’re drunk , you angrily told yourself, hand coming up to wipe your cheeks as a few fat, wet drops fell over your lash line. It wasn’t unusual for John to disappear sometimes. That came with his line of work. 

Why should you care so much anyway? 

You’re not sure how long you’re sitting there before Vicky comes back out, but you know the night’s ruined. You’re stuck staring at those messages, your vision just getting blurrier the longer you stared, and that fucking lump in your throat was not helping. 

—

John’s hand shook as he glared down at his cracked phone, the rectangle heavy in his palm. It was cold, the dead battery logo blinking at him mockingly each time he attempted to turn it on. He let himself lean against the handrail in the elevator, eyes slipping shut in frustration as his head thumped against the metal panel wall. It was just after three in the morning according to his watch when he was dropped off by a cab in front of the building a few minutes prior. As soon as he entered the building he had made a beeline for the elevator, his stomach twisting with nerves as he jabbed at the button for the third floor. 

He let himself relax for a moment, hand coming up instinctively to hold at the fresh bandage at his side. The stab wound still hurt considerably, but it wasn’t the worst he had ever experienced. His fingers flexed against his jacket as he started to allow his mind to wander. 

Thoughts of you, of hoping that you were awake and would answer your door flooded his mind. He furrowed his eyebrows as his eyes began to burn with tears before he straightened up at the sound of the elevator dinging, signaling he reached the correct floor. 

John reshouldered his duffle bag and rushed down the hall and the grip on his dead phone tightened as your door came into sight, just across from his, as it always was. He stared at it with wide eyes, his mouth gaping open a bit before he blinked, seeming to recompose himself. 

Knock, muppet.

The man huffed at himself and brought his hand up, knuckles rapping against the painted wood of your door. 

He’s not sure how long he’s standing there, blue eyes trained on your door. It feels like an eternity, and he’s about to call it and go back to his own flat when he hears the deadbolt unlock. His breath is caught as your door swings open, and he’s met with you, your wide, manic eyes meeting his. 

John’s shoulders immediately relaxed at the sight of you, duffle bag dropping off of his shoulder and hitting the ground with a soft thump . You were in your pajamas, your hair wet as if you had just showered not too long ago. His chest felt tight, and his hands felt as if they weighed ten tons. 

—

Vicky had gotten you home soon after the water works had started. She said she was getting close to calling it a night anyhow (yes, anyhow . She used anyhow , and it made you giggle ), and graciously took a cab home with you before she took herself home and texted you she arrived safe. Once she’d let you know she was safe you had finally let yourself relax enough to go cry in the shower and get ready for bed. You hadn’t realized it at the time, but your meltdown happened at like, one . That’s late, I don’t care what you say. 

You let yourself cry a bit more in the shower- hell, why not, you needed it, and sluggishly got ready for bed considering you were still quite… tipsy? Drunk? Probably drunk with how you just staggered into your sweatpants. And you still felt a little warm. God, why did you even drink again?  Oh yeah, Vicky said you would feel better.  Fuckin’ Vicky -

Knock knock knock!..

You stilled, your heart racing as your hands froze halfway up your body. That couldn’t have possibly been her door, could it? No.. Nooo…

It was so late.. But that really sounded like her door. You slowly adjusted your clothes as you approached the door, your hands trembling as they reached up to lean against the wood- 

Holy fuck there’s a person out there, your could see them through the peep hole!! 

Immediately you felt her stomach churn, it was three in the morning , who was- 

“John?” 

[meadow-of-daisies-and-lavender]

Summary: Stationed on Kamino as a GAR contracted social worker (SW), Bright Eyes is tasked with helping cadets graduate and monitor psychological readiness. What she didn't expect was how deep the abuse runs on Kamino. And then comes Clone Force 99.

A Burning Meteor

The Sergeant

The Testimonial Project

The Mission

Respite or Insanity

Drowning Below

Epilogue

Sweet Respite

First Time HCs

@lizartgurl fanart

[rjmartin11]

Sweet Kisses

Pairing: Elvis & black!female!reader

Summary: Candy, a young enslaved woman, learns the art of witchcraft from her mistress, Margaret. Along the way, Candy meets the mysterious Elvis, who appears to be more than what he seems. A vampire with an agenda. Candy and Elvis form an unbreakable bond that proves to be fatal.

Word Count: ???

Warnings: Witchcraft, vampires, blood, murder, magic, hence the witchcraft, talks of slavery, sadness, forbidden love, smut, death.

Material is not suitable for under 18 years of age. View discretion is advised!

Author's Notes: I'm making this special appearance for a limited time. One of my friends (@powerofelvis) wrote this incredible story about the Vampire Elvis, and I always wanted a prequel to it. Sadly, said friend has quit indefinitely. I'm heartbroken over it, and I hope I do it justice. This is one of my favorite stories written in the fandom. If you enjoy this tale, please like, follow, comment, and repost.

・ʚ♡ɞ・💋・ʚ♡ɞ・

"These violent delights have violent ends and in their triumph die, like fire and powder, which as they kiss consume. The sweetest honey is loathsome in its own deliciousness, and the taste confounds the appetite. Therefore, love moderately." - William Shakespeare: Romeo & Juliet

1692

Candy toils away in the kitchen as dinner soon approaches. She sweats as the heat of the oven has the room sweltering. She's been working all day to make sure the food is prepared to master's liking. The breads baked to perfection. The roast is honey coated. The mash potatoes are fluffy, the greenbeans seasoned, and the cake's sweet. So she hopes.

Candy wipes her brow as sweat pours down her face from the heated stove. She hears a slight rattling on the table and swiftly turns around to look at the table. Everything is in place as it should be. She takes out the roast, placing on the adjacent bar.

The rattling sound happens again. Candy turns just in time to see a teacup falling to the floor. She's too far away from the falling teacup to catch it, so she does the only thing she can. She stretches out her hand, feeling the energy of her power flow through her. She catches the cup in mid-air. She places the cup back on the table with ease and exhales. Her fear subsides, allowing her to relax once more.

"Very good, young one," Margaret says, stepping out of the shadows of the doorway. "You've been practicing."

"Yes, thank you, Mistress," Candy says, bowing her head.

Margaret walks into the hot kitchen, looking at all the food prepared for the evening's dinner. She pauses, not wanting to take another bath.

"Candy, make it cooler in here, now," Margaret orders.

"Yes, Mistress."

Candy faces the three windows that lead to the outside. Slowly, she raises her hands up, opening the windows. Putting her hands slightly together and widening her fingers, Candy quietly conjures the cool night air to cool down the room.

"Very good, Candy."

"Thank you, Mistress," Candy says, placing her hands back in front of her.

"Tonight promises to be a must eventful evening," Margaret says, looking back at Candy.

"Why is that, Mistress?"

"After dinner, when the men smoke their cigars and have their console. The women will have ours," Margaret says.

She lightly lifts up Candy's chin.

"I will announce you as my apprentice. You will join my council of witches. You will be seen as my equal in a circle where there's no favorites. We will be sisters, and you will call me Margaret."

"Yes. Margaret."

Candy knew, as well as any slave, it was forbidden to cross the line of formal and casual with her mistress and master. Yet her mistress is giving her a direct order to call her by her name as if she's an equal. Candy knows her place. She knows what to say in front of Master Abbott. It was beat into her for the last two years of how to act properly as an enslaved woman. Now that her mistress has commissioned her to be a witch, she realizes she must tread softly.

・ʚ♡ɞ・💋・ʚ♡ɞ・

As the other servants of the Abbott household, Candy has permission to be absent for an hour. She wastes no time, taking a spare pair of clothes with her, and quietly runs through the woods. Slaves don't have the right to wash indoors, but Candy found a private spring a mile away from the Abbott's house.

Running through the woods is almost as good as running through the palms of Barbados. If she closes her eyes, she can almost smell the fresh salt sea air.

When she reaches the spring, she stripes herself away from the chains of slavery for just a moment. Candy places her clothes on the giant oak tree limbs that reach over the water. Without another thought, Candy dives into the lukewarm water, cleasing herself from the Abbotts.

When she comes up for air, she rubs her left shoulder, where her moon shaped birthmark lies. As she washes her hair, Candy sees the figure of a man in the distance. Candy gasps as she back strokes in the water.

"Who are you?!" Candy asks, covering herself with her hands. "What are you doing here?!"

"Who are you?!?" The stranger asks, the bass of his deep voice sends fear to Candy's heart.

"Never you mind!" She shouts, realizing he was a white man she swims back to the shore.

Not caring if he sees her naked body, Candy rings out her wet curls and puts on her clothes.

"You're not a shy one, are ya?!?" He shouts to her.

Candy looks over her shoulder then walks away. She was hoping for a peaceful bath, but she was interrupted by a stranger who could possibly get her into trouble.

"Wait a minute!" He shouts to her.

Candy stops in her tracks, knowing the rules. If a white man, woman, or child asks her to do something, she's supposed to do it without question. Fully dressed, he makes his way in front of her.

"You didn't answer my question," he said.

"W-which question was that, sir?" Candy asks, looking into his eyes.

Something behind his eyes captures her heart. His eyes were as blue as the waters that surrounded her home island. Behind his oceanic eyes lay a rushing wave that spoke to her lonely soul.

"Who are you? You're different. You have fire in you that most slaves would fear to have."

"I'm... Candy."

"What family do you work? Candy?"

"I'm a slave in the Abbott's household," she answers, crossing her arms shrinking away from him.

"The Abbotts... fine company you keep."

"Sir, forgive me. I have to get back to my mistress."

"I never liked the thought of slavery. In fact, it makes me sick to my stomach," he says, lifting her chin. "You're the first servant that's looked me in my eyes since I've been in town."

"Sir, please..."

"Elvis. My name's Elvis, little one."

"Master Elvis..."

"It's just Elvis... Candy."

Candy knew with one breath she could knock him down on his back. But the law would kill her for exposing herself as a witch.

"I have to go... Elvis."

Candy runs past him, heading to the Abbott house. Once back in the house, Margaret escorts her to the ladies' quarters. Inside, about fifteen ladies fill the room, seven of which are black. Light illuminates the quarter as the candles flicker. It sparks that fire Elvis was telling her about earlier.

Margaret and Sarah Barnett bring Candy the coven wine gauntlet.

"Sisters," Margaret starts. "Let us welcome our new sister, Candy, to the coven."

The ladies individually say their hellos and greetings to Candy. Margaret gives Candy the gauntlet of wine and whispers to her instructions on what to say in her induction speech. Candy smiles, taking the gauntlet in her hands.

"I... I drink of my sisters, and I do so entering this unbreakable circle with perfect love and perfect trust. Never putting no one above my sisters and this coven."

Candy raises her glass in a toast and takes a sip. The ladies applaud her, then one by one, kiss her cheeks, welcoming her into the coven. They asked for a small demonstration of her powers. Candy levitates all the candles in the room. This act pleases the coven.

The evening goes on with light wine and conversation. The ladies speak of secrecy and discretion.

"First and foremost, we are to remain quiet about who we are. We also must watch out for vampires," Sarah instructs.

"What are vampires?" Candy asks.

"Our true enemies. They are the enemies of those who produce warm blood in their veins," Sister Miraim squabbles.

Mistress Sarah gently places her hand on top of Miraim's hand, calming her.

"If I may," Sister Beth commented. Beth was the slave of Lord and Lady Blacksmith. "As Miraim more spiritly put it, vampires are our enemies, yes. But moreover, they are undead creatures that look and speak just like us with minor misconceptions. Other than drinking the blood of the living to survive, they sneak through the shadows of the night like evil spirits. They can't walk in the daylight. The sun is a holy relic that burns their pale skin. They are unholy creatures. If they feed on a witch, they gain ten times more strength and speed."

"Vampires are our enemies, and they will be disdained as such," Candy stated.

As the meeting drew in for a close, Beth pulled Candy aside for a small conversation.

"Just between us, Candy. I'd love it if you joined our small group of enchantress," Beth said.

"Enchantress group?" Candy questioned.

"You must never tell your mistress. All of the enslaved women here are a part of it. They may see us as equals here in this room, but once outside those doors, we are mere slaves yet again," Beth states.

"I know this to be true," Candy acknowledges.

"Do you know of the Well's family?" Beth asks.

Candy shakes her head.

"They were absent tonight, but they have a slave by the name of Renée and she's also from the island of Barbados."

"My cousin? Here in Salem? We were separated during the auction two years ago. I feared I'd never see her again."

"Never say never, Sister Candy. She's a part of our coven. Will you join us at your leisure tomorrow?" Beth asked.

"Yes. I will be there."

The next day, Candy reunites with her beloved cousin, Renée. Seeing Renée brought a great joy to her, she thought she'd never experience again. Candy and Renée reconnected, building a strong bond of blood and magic.

Because of this, Candy pledged her undying loyalty to this secret black coven within a larger coven. Together, they formed the Coven of Black Enchantresses. Reading and writing were outlawed for slaves but the sisters taught each other how to read and write. Margaret secretly tutored Candyin her spear time from the Book of Spell Casters.

Two weeks later...

The churches harvest ball was quickly approaching. The autumn leaves were falling, and the weather started to cool. Candy cleaned the house from top to bottom with the assistance of her cousin, Renée.

"Candy, this harvest ball sounds so exciting," Renée said, striking up a conversation.

"Yes. Too bad slaves can't participate."

"True. Can we just imagine, though?"

Candy looks back at Renée's eager face. So full of hope for things to come. Being that Renée is her younger cousin, Candy obliges her whim of imagining a life better than their current one.

"Let's make a small circle, Candy. We're alone," Renée says, grabbing her hands.

Candy and Renée breathe deeply, chanting small incantations. As the circle forms, they open their eyes to look at one another.

"What are we imagining, Renée?" Candy asks.

"A life without servitude, cousin. A life away from this hell."

"Home..." Candy whispers as she imagines the waves crash against the shore of her home.

"Candy, you are of age. If things were different, you could have on one of those pretty gowns and fall in love tonight."

"That's not in the book for me."

"Imagine. Don't break the circle because of things that may not be. Close your eyes as I conjure you up the perfect night," Renée says.

Candy obeys her cousin and allows her imagination to run as wild as horse on a prairie.

"You have on the most beautiful dress of all the eligible women at the ball. Every eye is on you, but one bachelor catches your eye. Oh my. Candy, he's handsome."

Renée says these words, and those pair of blue eyes come back to her mind. The fine cut jawline exquisitely complements his brood shoulders. He's built like a god of legend. He lips... cover a smile of sharp fangs.

"Elvis!" Candy shouts, breaking the circle. Fear covers Candy's soft features.

"Who's Elvis?" Renée asked.

"I wish I knew," Candy says, taking a breath. "Come, let's finish up. No more imagining for today."

The Harvest Ball

The entire town of Salem, with a few residents from surrounding areas, has come to celebrate. All the lords, ladies, and their children are dressed in their Sunday best. They make conversation, sip on libations, and nibble on snacks as the light hymns play.

Candy was excused from the duties of the event. She quietly watches from the window outside. A part of her wishes she could be in there dancing with a handsome stranger. She wishes she could be the bell of the ball. But no, she would rather go for a swim.

She goes to get Renée, Beth, and Phadrea to go for a swim. Originally, her spring was supposed to be a private place, but she'd not dare keep it from her sisters.

As they walk arm in arm through the quiet town, they hear growling like a pack of wolves have surrounded them.

"Those are vampires," Beth says. "Be ready to defend yourselves, sisters."

The three witches fight with their might. Candy turns to her left and sees a pair of red eyes in the dark. Fear seeps within her veins, and her heart races at the face of this loathsome creature. She takes a deep breath and chants her incantation as dark smoke springs from her hands. She throws her hand up, slamming the vampire hard against the side of a house. He laughs with evil delight as Candy gives herself strength to pick him up and throw him. He hits the ground with a thunderous thud. He looks over at Candy, his demonic eyes glaring back. She's ready for him.

Then Candy hears Renée scream at the top of her lungs. A vampire on top of Renée, ready to sink his into her flesh.

"RENÉE!" She shouts, using her energy to throw the off of her.

The vampire Candy turned her back on, grabbed her neck from behind, throwing her to the ground. He growls, exposing his sharp fangs to her. Candy places her foot in his abdomen, flipping him underneath her. He rips the top part of her dress off her shoulder, showcasing her moon shaped birthmark.

"The cresent moon," he says, looking into Candy's eyes. "Little one?"

Candy backs away from him, holding the top of her dress. He stands and shouts at the other vampires. They all scatter in different directions except for him. He glares at Candy for a moment, revealing his human face.

"Elvis," Candy breathes.

Elvis smiles and races into the darkness of the night. Candy exhales for the first time since the first initial attack.

"Candy?" Renée says, coming to aid. "Are you alright?"

"I... I think so," Candy says.

"We are not safe, sisters," Beth states. "There are vampires in Salem. We must inform the heads of the council."

・ʚ♡ɞ・💋・ʚ♡ɞ・

The next day, Candy cleans the house from top to bottom, trying to get that image of Elvis out of her mind. Ever since the first time they met, Candy knew there was something about him. Something different. She never dreamed it was that he was a vampire.

Candy finds time later in the afternoon to make her way to the spring. When she arrives there, it's as silent the grave. She quietly walks to the edge of the water, bracing herself for the unexpected.

"I hoped you come," Elvis said.

Candy throws him up against the base of the oak tree, holding him there.

"We need to stop meeting like this, Candy."

"Why should I trust you?" Candy asks.

"Because, if I wanted you dead, I would have killed you last night."

"I don't trust you. Vampires are the sworn enemies to witches!"

"We don't have to be. I don't want to hurt you."

"What do you want, Elvis?"

"To live in a world where slavery doesn't exist. A world where vampires and witches are not enemies but live together in harmony. A world where humans don't fear us. We shouldn't have to hide in the shadows."

"That's impossible..."

"Why? Because you were told it couldn't?"

Something in Candy wanted to trust him. She wanted to believe him. She eases her hand down, releasing Elvis from the tree. Elvis slowly walks up to Candy, never looking away from his eyes.

"Sit with me, please," Elvis asks.

"Why would you want to sit with me?"

"I find you beautiful and interesting. I've been waiting for you to come back here and spend time with me."

Elvis offers Candy his hand, and without hesitation, she takes it. Noticing how warm his touch is, her heart rate raises.

"You're so warm," Candy points out.

"Yes."

"And you're out in the sunlight."

"Yes, I am. Those tale tales were created to throw humans off our scent," Elvis admits.

He sits her down in the grassy meadow. For a moment, they stare at one another. Elvis admires her dark curls and honey coated skin. He finds her absolutely breathtaking.

"Where are you from?" Elvis asks her.

"Barbados. I was kidnapped two years ago. My cousin and I. Sent here. Away from my family. Forced into slavery," Candy sighs.

"You miss it."

"Everyday. I miss the palm trees and the sandy beaches and the blue water, my mother," Candy said, reminiscing about a life stolen from her.

A tear falls from her eye. Elvis takes her hand and places a kiss on her knuckles. An energy radiates from his touch to her soul. For the first time in a long time, Candy smiles a true smile.

For the next week, Candy finds a way to spend the afternoon in Elvis' arms. They share stories about their lives. Soon, Candy finds herself falling madly in love with Elvis. He's never far from her thoughts.

"How's about we go for a swim, baby?" Elvis asks.

Candy stands up and strips her dress off, being completely bare in front of Elvis. Elvis analyzes her body carefully. Every curve and every scar.

She runs into the water, diving into the water. When she comes up for air, Elvis has disappeared.

"Elvis? Where are you?" She calls out.

"Here," he whispers in her ear.

She turns to see Elvis behind her. Elvis grabs her face and kisses her lips softly. There's nothing between them at this moment but water. Candy wraps her arms around Elvis as he kisses down her neck to her arm. He kisses her birthmark.

"Oh, Elvis," she cries out.

He stops short and looks at her.

"What's wrong?" Candy asked.

"I want to taste you."

"Will it hurt?"

"Yes, but you'll like. I promise."

"Okay," Candy says, bracing herself.

Elvis kisses her neck then sinks his teeth into her skin. Candy feels a rush as he tastes her blood. Candy sees Elvis' past in quick images. Love. Loss. Death. It makes her want to protect him and guard him from the world. She also feels herself wet as Elvis sips her blood. He pulls back for air and licks her wounds.

"You're pure magic, Candy," he says.

"You're pure love, Elvis," she says, kissing his lips.

Elvis lifts her leg and drives into her with his hardened shaft. She moans at the urgency of it all. Her bud is so sensitive, and she feels so needy for what Elvis can give her. She never truly knew about this connection. The bond among her coven was nothing compared to this. She feels herself expand as he thrusts his cock into her throbbing pussy.

A fire deep within her has ignited and feels like Elvis is casting a spell on her. She grips ahold of him chasing this feeling until finally she bursts. Elvis follows quickly behind her.

"Oh, E. That was spellbinding."

"That was lovemaking, darling."

"Why would you do that?"

"Because I love you, Candy. I'm in love with you," Elvis says, kissing the top of her head.

Thirty minutes later, Elvis takes Candy to his cabin. Their both still pretty wet from swimming, so Candy lights a fire for them. They sit for a while, getting warm from the flames.

Elvis can't help himself. He strips from his wet clothes and asks that Candy do the same. He lays her down in front of the fire and precedes to make love to her once more.

The flame on the inside of Candy scorch her soul as he pushes and pulls in and out of her until once again she cums. They lay in each other's arms for a while until Elvis breaks his silence.

"Marry me, Candy. Be my bride. Let's rule this world as one," Elvis begs.

Candy looks at him. Seeing the seriousness in his eyes melts her heart. She wants nothing more than to be with him.

"What about my sisters?" Candy questions.

"In time, they will come to accept our union. Please, my love. Marry me."

"Yes, I will."

"You will?"

"I will."

They kiss for a moment, and Elvis cuts his arm to unite them both as one.

"Drink. Be one with me. It won't turn you into a vampire. This will make you more powerful than any witch on Earth."

Candy licks his cut from top to bottom. The blood fills her taste buds with a peculiar taste, but the sensation was a delight. She feels stronger somehow. She feels like she has more control over her powers.

Realizing the time, Candy gives Elvis one last kiss goodbye and runs back to town. When she arrives, the coven is all there waiting to her.

"Where have you been?" Margaret asks.

Candy has no words. She can't lie to them, but she can't tell them the truth either.

"Beth," Margaret called. "Make her speak."

Beth stepped forward, placing her palms up and out to Candy.

"Give me your hands, Sister Candy," Berh orders.

Candy hesitates but does as she's asked. She places her hands on top Beth's hands.

Beth sees all that had conspired in Candy's mind. She sees the secrets they have and all of her moments with Elvis. All their private moments.

Beth gasps, pulling away from Candy she slaps her in the face.

"Sisters, she has betrayed us all! She has lied with a vampire, allowed him to drink blood from her veins, and tasted his blood as well!!!"

An unholy gasp spreads across the room.

"Sisters, please. Let me explain," Candy begs, tears falling from her eyes.

Margaret slaps Candy's face, silencing her.

"You have lost all rights to speak!" Margaret shouts.

"I love him."

"You shall burn for your sins against us. Your betrayal has stung us all to the core," Margaret states. "All witches in favor."

"Aye!" Screamed by each witch except for Renée who watches in terror from the back of the room.

For the next few days, Candy remains locked in an upstairs room with little to no food. She cares not for herself but for Elvis. She was supposed to see him at the springs. With little to no way to get to him, Candy falls into despair.

Suddenly, there's a commotion downstairs. Things are being thrown about the rooms, and there's yelling.

Candy has been patient long enough. She blows the door down with one wave of her hand. She runs downstairs and sees Elvis being choked by Margaret. Candy waves her arm and flings Margaret away from him.

"Elvis, darling," Candy runs to him, helping off the floor.

"My love," Elvis says, kissing her lips. "I've come to take you away from this horrible place."

"Traitor!" Margaret yells.

"No! Margaret, I don't want this! Elvis wants to make this world better for us all. He's a great man!"

"Love, she's set in her old ways. No use explaining to her," Elvis says, picking her up in his arms and racing out the door.

For the next week, Elvis trains Candy on fighting and strengthening her powers. Elvis feels a fight coming, and he wants to be prepared. Candy wants Elvis to fight her with all his might because if she could stand against him, she can face anyone.

Elvis knocks Candy down on her back this time. It's hard enough that blood comes from her mouth.

"Did I hurt you, my love?" Elvis asks, stretching out his hand, helping her up.

"Yeah, but I'm tougher than I look, E," she says, giving him a kiss on the lips. "Do you really think I'll be ready to face them? I mean, they taught me everything I know. Before them, I was a slave who couldn't read or write. I own them everything."

"You're ready, and once we defeat them, you'll be my bride, and we will rule this world together. Hell, you're already my bride, Mama!" Elvis says, pulling her close to him. "They will come around. Eventually."

"I'm ready," Candy says.

But she wasn't ready. Two days later, Candy goes to comfort the coven. It was a trap. They tie Candy up, using incantations, they burn her at the stake. She screams and begs them for mercy, but they ignore her.

Elvis witnesses the whole scene unfold. He tries to save her, but his men hold him back as he cries out to her.

"Candy! You can defeat them! You're strong! Don't give up! I LOVE YOU!!! PLEASE!!!" He screams.

Candy sees Elvis trying to get to her, but it's too late. She cries as the flames of hell fire burn her from the inside out. She let's her last words be for Elvis. He hears her whisper.

"I love you," she succumbs to the flames.

Elvis and his clan of vampires are forced to flee away from Salem back into the woods.

A day later, the witch sent Elvis a box. Inside the box is Candy's burnt heart. Elvis hadn't slept all night from heartbreak, and this is what happens.

Elvis loses it and orders his men to attack Salem. His vampires came in droves and ripped Salem apart. Finding every witch they could get their hands on and bleeding them dry.

The Black Enchantresses, led by Renée, fled for their lives out of Salem and from the bonds of slavery. Renée knew the story of Candy and Elvis was to be kept a secret for all time, and so it shall remain.

After his fill of witches' blood, Elvis, heartbroken, carries Candy's lifeless body away. He wraps burial cloth around her body from head to toe. He places her under their special oak, feet away from their pond where they meet mere weeks ago.

Elvis lays her in her resting place gently, placing the box that contains her heart on top of her. He weeps the tears of a widower. For they had only just begun.

As he places fresh water lilies on her grave, a strange feeling comes over him. As if he's not there alone.

"Elvis." A voice of an angel whispers. His angel. His bride.

Elvis turns to see a figure in white standing in the grassy meadow. As his eyes adjust, he realizes he looks upon the face of Candy. Her hair was curly with little flowers, and the sun kissed her skin perfectly.

"Candy?" He breathes.

"Yes," she answers.

"You've come back to me, love?"

"No," she says, a tear trickling down her cheek. "Wait for me."

"How long?" Elvis beeched.

"I don't know."

"It doesn't matter. I'll wait forever for you. I love you."

"I love you, Elvis. Once I return to you. I'll never ever leave you again. Wait for me." Candy sits in the grass as a light fog engulfs her and she vanishes.

Elvis feels sorrow, but in his heart, he knows Candy will return to him. When she does, they will rule the immortal world together. He will wait. No matter how long it takes.

Taglist: @missmaywemeetagain @beeandheroddobsessions @headfullofpresley @everythingpresley @epforeverohyes @vintagepresley @pianginferno @powerofelvis @ab4eva @foreverdolly @searchingforgravity @thatbanditqueen @daffieapple @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @epsgirl @richardslady121 @literally-just-elvis-fics @eptodaytommorwforever @vintageshanny @iloveelvis @dreamingofep @aliypop @spooky-hazex

Are you bummed at the ending? Here's the link to the original story!!! Better ending.

Sweets For My Sweet by: @powerofelvis (Daisy)

[stargazerdaisy]

HELP. I've got a Chenford fic that I desperately need to re-write/edit into a finished product, but here I am outlining not one but two Twisters fics.

THIS WASN'T THE PLAN. But here we are.

[elenarodriiguez]

soft like silk chiffon | e.m. & s.h.

summary: a one night stand could destroy most friendships. thankfully stevie harrington and eddie munson aren't most people.

pairing: steve harrington x eddie munson

cw: nsfw, lesbian steddie, transfeminine steve harrington, 18+ content

word count: 2086

read it on ao3

Waking up with Stevie Harrington’s arms wrapped around her, the brunette’s warmth caressing her back and threatening to burn Eddie alive, was a mistake. A glorious, unforgettable, better than anything she had ever dreamed of, wonderful kind of mistake.

“Morning,” Stevie whispered into Eddie’s ear, as if she didn’t want to dare to break the early morning silence of Eddie’s miniscule shithole of an apartment.

“Mmgh.” Eddie responded in all of her songwriter glory.

Surprisingly, Stevie didn’t bother trying to engage any further with Eddie, having known the girl long enough to know that trying to communicate with her before caffeine was a futile mission to take on. Instead, she pulled herself off of Eddie, climbing out of the bed they’d tumbled into the night before, and soon enough Eddie heard her footsteps padding away from the room.

Staring up at her ceiling, Eddie began to compose a prayer to whatever Goddesses were listening into her wavelength at that particular moment in time. It was pretty standard stuff: make sure Wayne stayed in good health until vampirism becomes a thing, give shitheels like Billy and Jason from high school all of the karmic retribution they deserve, ensure that she hadn’t fucked up everything by sleeping with her best friend (who had been the centre of her affections for years now). All of the usual things.

In the midst of the greatest catastrophizing spiral that the world had ever witnessed, Eddie half considered getting dressed and pleading with Stevie to not renounce her and their friendship. However before she could fully get herself dressed, grabbing the only clean pair of boxers that had been unceremoniously stuffed into her nightstand and pointedly ignoring the love heart pattern emblazoned on the fabric, Stevie hip checks the bedroom door, brandishing a mug of coffee and a large tumbler that Eddie would bet her left tit on was full of the caramel iced latte Eddie refused to drink in front of most people.

“Oh my god, I’m in love. How’d you feel about a spring wedding?”

“Not a fall one?” Stevie teased, passing the coffee into Eddie’s grabby hands. “I’d have thought that Halloween wedding shit would be right up your alley.”

Eddie mulled over her response for a moment, taking a long drag of her sugary caffeine as sirens went off in her mind. She oscillated between answering honestly and risking getting heartbroken, or carrying on joking and also risking getting heartbroken.

“It would be, but spring weddings means flower crowns and you wearing yellow because it’s the ‘right time of year for it’. Halloween could never compare to seeing a literal goddess in human form.”

“Eddie, you can’t just say those things!” Stevie exclaimed, her gaze now firmly focused on the mug of coffee warming her hands up.

“Why not? It’s all true.”

There it was, out in the open. For want of a better metaphor, the ball was quite literally in Stevie’s court now. While she waited for Stevie to process, because she always needed time to process even if she wouldn’t dare to verbalise the fact, she sat herself upright on the bed, leaving space for Stevie to sit down should she wish to. Eddie tried to stop her mind from falling into a sinkhole, putting her coffee on the nightstand and fidgeting with her hair until it was in an acceptably messy ponytail.

Once she could no longer hide behind her mane of hers, Eddie turned to look at Stevie, properly looking at her for the first time that morning, and awestruck couldn’t come close to being an accurate descriptor. Here was Stevie, her Stevie, cute little preppy Stevie, wearing the muscle tee Eddie had worn to the club the night before, and some love heart adorned, pretty pink panties. And her eyes, god her eyes were ablaze with want, intensity rolling off of the brunette in tsunami sized waves.

As Eddie went to ask her about her thoughts, Stevie knelt over her, coffee cup now nowhere to be seen, and dipped her head down to kiss her. Even though they had kissed numerous times the night before, nothing could have compared to the way Eddie felt when their lips collided. Her body didn’t even give her brain the chance to flail around, as Eddie’s arms shot around Stevie’s waist, nails digging into her hips, garnering the most beautiful gasps and hisses as Eddie caught hold of some of the bruises she’d left on them the night before.

Pulling away from Stevie’s lips was painful, but the sight of Stevie kneeling above her soothed all of the ache away, especially when Stevie let out an embarrassed squeak and nuzzled herself into the crook of Eddie’s neck. The feeling of soft puffs of air on Eddie’s sensitive skin was almost enough to lull her back to sleep, but she resisted, if for nothing else than to savour this moment.

“So, I take it that means you’re keeping your calendar open for that wedding, huh?”

“Eddie.” Stevie said. “There is no one else in the world I’d rather marry. But how about we try a date or two before we send out Save The Dates?”

“I mean, I guess I could manage that.”

Without giving Stevie any warning, Eddie pressed a kiss to the tip of the other girl’s nose before tugging her down so that all of her weight settled on Eddie. She tensed up on instinct, sucking her stomach in for a moment, at least until Eddie poked her in the side and scowled at her for trying to make herself smaller, when she was already Eddie’s perfect woman. 

“Sorry, habit.”

“No need to apologise. Just remember that I would happily suffocate to death between your thighs, under your ass, between your tits. Anywhere really, you’re perfect and I would be happy to die if it meant I was with you.”

Stevie smiled at her, but Eddie could tell that she didn’t necessarily believe her entirely. Rolling the pair of them over, Eddie began pressing open mouthed kisses onto every square inch of skin that was visible, enjoying the way Stevie shivered under the attention. Eddie slowly worked her way down Stevie’s body, delighting when Stevie squeaked as Eddie bit the sensitive scar under her tit, that the stretched out muscle tee revealed for Eddie, only Eddie, to see. 

“You’re wearing my shirt. That’s so fucking hot.” Eddie said, her chest heaving as she tried to stay level-headed with this masterpiece before her.

“Eddie, stop.” Stevie whined out, wriggling under Eddie’s ministrations.

“You are so goddamn hot.” 

Every word was punctuated with a kiss, the final one crashing onto Stevie’s lips, Eddie biting her lower lip before pulling away with it still between her teeth.

“Yeah, and what are you gonna do about it?”

Reaching her hand under the tee, she chuckled breathily when Stevie let out a whimper as the sharp coolness of Eddie’s rings brushed against her olive skin, her nimble fingers reaching to tease Stevie’s sensitive nipples.

“I think that I’ll do this.”

Splaying her other hand over the soft, smooth expanse of Stevie’s belly, Eddie kept her attention focused on Stevie’s nipples, every moan that tumbled from the brunette’s lips incentivising her further. When her moans turned into pleas for Eddie to do more, Eddie let her hand drift lower, hovering over the pink panties that were now damp enough that they had started to turn see-through.

“On or off?”

“Off, please Eddie, I need you to touch me, please Eddie!”

“Well, if a goddess begs me, who am I to deny her?”

Eddie toyed with the idea of pulling the panties off with her teeth, but the horror that consumed her at the thought of clumsily biting Stevie in doing so deterred her entirely. Instead, she tugged them down Stevie’s long legs, pressing kisses and nibbling at the soft skin as she reached the crevice where Stevie’s hip and thigh met. 

“Where am I touching you then sweetheart?”

Canting her hips up towards Eddie’s nimble fingers, which drifted over her body, Stevie begged Eddie to just touch her, making the tattooed woman tsk in response.

“Now, now, darling. I asked you where am I touching you, and I expect an answer.”

“My hole, please, please, I need it. I need you.”

Now with a goal in mind, Eddie was a woman on a mission, desperate to make her partner come. She spread Stevie’s legs for her, bypassing her front genitals to leave a feather light kiss on her perineum before focusing on her hole. Eddie fumbled for the pack of baby wipes and lube that they had thrown on the floor hours prior, quickly but gently wiping Stevie before lubing up her fingers and pushing the tip of her thumb into Stevie’s hole.

Her reaction was instantaneous, a loud moan tumbling from her lips, a pink flush slowly descending down her chest as she panted out Eddie’s name. Grinning up at her, Eddie slowly pulled her thumb out, replacing it with a finger, beaming when Stevie jolted at the sensation of cold metal against the rim of her hole. 

Eddie revelled in the feeling of having so much power over Stevie at that moment, knowing that her pleasure was in her hands, and boy was it a heady feeling. She was slow to set a rhythm, wanting Stevie to get used to the sensation while also allowing herself the time to get reacquainted with Stevie’s prostate. But when she found it, God did Stevie deliver in her response.

Her back arched up off of the bed, her moans echoing in the tiny apartment, her eyes brimming with tears of pleasure as she pleaded with Eddie to touch it again. And ever so happy to oblige her now-girlfriend, Eddie did as she was asked. She brushed her fingertip against it once more, pressing kisses to the skin her bunched-up tee was revealing at Stevie’s every movement. 

As she went to add another finger, Stevie begged for Eddie to come and kiss her, and weak to the doe eyes that Stevie was wielding, she complied, more than happy to kiss her girlfriend until she was breathless. Feeling Stevie’s hole pulse around her fingers set Eddie alight, and she would have happily done this for the rest of her life, so long as she got to hear Stevie’s moans of joy and pleasure on repeat. 

Pumping her fingers into Stevie’s hole, brushing against her prostate every few strokes, not quite maintaining a pattern consistent enough for her to predict, Eddie watched as Stevie fell apart entirely. She began tugging at her nipples through the tee, hissing when her twisting them coincided with Eddie brushing past her prostate, and yet she refused to let go of them, begging Eddie to do something more to make her cum. 

In the end, Eddie pushed Stevie’s hands away from her tits, telling the brunette to come as Eddie roughly thrusted a third finger into her hole while tugging at her nipple with her teeth. Stevie’s squeals reverberated through the apartment, her face deserving to be immortalised for all of the world to truly witness her beauty, although it was the soft whimper that the girl let out as Eddie pulled her fingers out which truly deserved to be commemorated, as Eddie knew her mind would never allow her to forget it.

Smoothing her hair off of her face, Eddie pecked Stevie on the forehead before speeding off to the bathroom, promising to be back in a moment. Dampening a washcloth, she wiped Stevie down, leaving gentle kisses all over her sensitive body while she tried to snuggle into Eddie. Eventually deciding to give up when Stevie began huffing at her, Eddie threw the washcloth into the laundry hamper, pulling her own come covered tee off of Stevie and throwing that in there also.

“Want me to grab you a sweater or something?” Eddie asked, allowing Stevie to tug her onto the bed and arranging them so that she was curled around Eddie once again.

“No, I’m okay, thanks. Want me to do anything for you?”

“Not right now, honey. I just want to go to sleep right about now, so long as that’s something you’re amenable to.”

Stevie hummed softly, the vibrations settling on the back of Eddie’s neck, and they soon both drifted off as the world began to wake up, with snapshots of bright yellow flower crowns, ball gowns, and love songs dancing through their dreams.

[daisies-and-domming]

Zayne: In Heat! (NSFW)

Right Here, Right Now!

Summary: A new sort of Wanderer keeps appearing around Linkon City, sending the Hunters Association into a frenzy trying to figure out just what it does. When killed, it releases some sort of dangerous “pollen”, but that’s all you’re really cleared to know - other than the clear warning to get back to headquarters as soon as possible if you are hit. Turns out, that’s easier said than done.

Warnings: yes this is an A/B/O fic (the demons got me), afab!reader, omega!reader, alpha!characters, heat, swearing, petnames (Zayne calls you "darling" and "wife"), marking/mating, breeding kink (Zayne), office sex, a little bit dubcon!!

This is Zayne's part to this series! Looking for someone else?

Rafayel | Xavier | Caleb

Or use the tag #daisy's series: in heat!

Let me know if you think I missed anything!!

All characters are over 18 :)

– – –

It was a simple mistake, you try and tell yourself. You didn’t know the Wanderer was going to explode like that!

But even the simplest of mistakes gets people in your profession killed. Being a Deepspace Hunter, especially a hunter in the UNICORNS unit, meant you couldn’t afford to make mistakes, not when other people’s lives were on the line. 

So you don’t go back to headquarters, not yet anyhow,heading straight for the hospital instead.

You know for a fact Zayne’s in office tonight, because you were complaining about him cancelling yet again your plans to hang out. He was your best option right now - whatever you got hit with is making you feel all sorts of weird. 

The first thing you noticed was your vision blurring and your sense of smell dulling; like the world was fading into grey. You smack the side of your head, trying to keep yourself in one piece. The hospital was only two more blocks away, and you couldn’t afford to not make it. Even if Zayne didn’t know exactly what was happening to you, hopefully he could draw your blood or send you for an eval in one of the other offices. There’s no one in your life that you trust quite like  Zayne, and you’re certain that he can help you with whatever the hell was going on with you.

The second thing you notice, as you draw nearer to the hospital, is the looks. People always look at you, especially when you’re in your hunter’s uniform, but there’s something��different. Some people look sympathetic, like they know something you don’t. Others jeer at you, making comments that made you wish you were off the clock right now and could kick their ass. But you’re a professional - so you hold your head high, and you keep moving.

You make it into the clear glass doors of the hospital, and that’s when the third thing hits - the smell. Your sense of smell had dropped drastically when this “pollen” had originally got you, but there was a mysterious smell coming from somewhere in the hospital that was calling out to you. It smelled like hot chocolate on a winter’s day, the kind that you have right next to the fireplace after having been outside for too long. It smelled like home, and almost mindlessly, you try to follow it.

You’re stopped pretty quickly by a nurse, who mutters something about “heat” and “omega” to one of the passing nurses. You’re led to sit down, but the bright lights of the waiting room are nauseating, and you almost lose your whole lunch as your world spins.

“-you okay? Is there anything we can do for you? If you forgot your heat suppressants, I can direct you to the pharmacy down the street-”

“Heat? What are you talking about?” You respond, snapping your head towards hers, “I’m here to see Dr. Zayne. He’s my primary care physician? Something’s wrong, I just went through a Wanderer attack, and-”

She shushes you, looking over her shoulder (likely for back-up, even you can tell you’re acting a bit crazed right now).

“Honey, you’re in heat. At this point, all we can do is suggest a heat partner. Do you have a ride home?”

You frown, still not understanding. In heat? You’re a beta, always have been. You don’t have to worry about finicky things like “heats” or “ruts”. You move to try and explain this to her, but a voice from behind the nurse cuts you off.

“Is everything alright? What could you possibly be doing here this late - oh.”

Zayne’s voice sends a spike of heat through your body, and you can’t help the smallest of whines from slipping out of your mouth. It’s quiet, but you can tell he hears it, and his whole demeanor shifts.

“Did they tell you what happened?”

The nurse tries to tell Zayne what you’ve told her so far, but he’s not actually listening - all of his senses are honed in on you. He notes your symptoms - visible fever, shortness of breath, pupils dilated - and he motions for the nurse to move, offering you an arm.

“They’re my patient. They’ll listen to me,” he tells the nurse, keeping his composure as much as he can.

He won’t tell her that it’s because he’s merely a man, a selfish one at that, and he can’t stand the burning looks of the other alphas in the room boring into you. To them, you’re nothing more than a good time, a pretty little omega for them to fuck and move on. Something protective rumbles in his chest before he can stop it. The nurse sends him a skeptical look, about to protest, when you grip on to his extended arm, and oh. Your skin isn’t even touching his, and yet it’s like a wet dream come true. You set him alight, and it takes everything in his power not to coo at you as you lean your weight into him.

“Zayne, what’s happening to me?” You sigh, looking up at him with your eyes blown wide.

“Let me get you to my office, okay? I can tell you everything you need to know there, just need to get you away from-” he sends a weary, menacing look to any wandering eyes behind him, “-from all of these heathens.”

“Okay,” you respond, so soft and sweet it sends a sick sort of thrill down Zayne’s spine.

He knows as he leads you to his office it’s a bad idea. He knows, but he can’t help himself. He’ll regret it in the morning, but for now? For now, he can have you, his darling, all needy for him in his office. He imagines bending you over every surface of the room, pushing your bare body up against the glass for everybody to see - and he’s already leaking. If you were a well attuned omega, you would be able to smell the lust rolling off of him in waves, but you don’t know what’s happening to you. All you know is that something about Zayne is sending your body into a frenzy, and you want nothing more than to burn under his touch.

Finally, finally, you make it into his office, where he guides you to sit on the couch there. He hovers for a moment, as if contemplating his next move, before leaving you there to lock the door (odd - you don’t remember him ever locking the door for your other appointments). He’s almost on top of you in the next instant, and his scent makes your brain foggy and your limbs heavy. He smells like warmth on a winter day, and you’re acutely aware, if only for a moment, that you’d let him do anything to you.

He reaches out with a hand, tilting your chin up so you’re forced to look up at him. His other hand brushes stray hairs from your face, before falling back to his side. He looks just as crazed as you feel, his pupils swallowing the chocolate brown of his eyes. If it weren’t for the lab coat he was wearing, you’d be able to see the wet patch he’s leaving on the front of his slacks, his cock already straining for release.

“So?” Yyou ask, eyeing him curiously. You’re a little on edge now, your senses a little sharper.

You may have been hit by something funny, but you’re not stupid. Zayne, in all of his quiet composure, has a tell - the tips of his ears are dusted with a light pink, and he pushes up his glasses not once, but twice (even if they’re not on his face. It makes you giggle every time). He’s holding something back, and you’re worried all over again.

That’s when a terrible pain rips through your body, like your abdomen is being ripped apart from the inside. It feels like something is trying to claw its way out of you, and a sob wracks your body. Zayne rushes forward as your body goes limp.

“Hey, hey, look at me, darling,” he says, urgency lacing his tone. 

“Look at me.”

The pain ebbs a bit as he nears, but you can still feel the way the pain tears at your stomach. Barely lucid, your weary eyes find his, pleading and wet.

“I can help, okay? Are you okay with me helping? Just let go for me, darling.” 

He’s close - too close - but God, you could care less right now. There’s nothing in the room right now but him, in all of his glory, hovering just inches away from you.

You give him the smallest of nods, but it’s enough. Enough for him to spring into action, hand already working at the button of your pants. You’re so wet with slick that he has to peel them off your skin, but it’s worth it to see you, poised on his work couch in only your underwear.

He thumbs at the waistband of your underwear, fingers dipping under it teasingly. 

“May I?”

“Y-yeah, yeah, go ‘head,” you say back, voice gravelly with want.

But he doesn’t take them off like you thought he would - instead, he shoves his face right up against your entrance, lapping at it through the soaked fabric of your underwear. Your hips buck instinctually, and his hands find their way to your thighs, kneading at them. Your legs try to close around his head, but he gives you a warning look over his glasses, and you try your best to keep them spread. A small smirk appears on his face at your obedience, but it’s gone as quickly as it came, because he’s already diving back in for more.

Even through your underwear, he can taste your arousal so potently, coating his tongue like the sweetest ambrosia. He’s sucking it through your underwear like a pervert. All open-mouthed and nasty, but it’s only making the slick pour from your entrance like a waterfall. Watching the usually cool and collected Zayne fall apart at merely a taste of you was dragging you close to an early edge. His glasses are starting to fog at the heat you’re radiating, but he doesn’t care - just dives deeper into you. He wants to taste you on his tongue forever, to keep his pretty, perfect omega satisfied. He doesn’t need anything from you, the bulge in his pants meant nothing to him. All he can think about is drawing those sweet little noises from you.

Your hand finds its way to his hair, and in a pleasure-seeking haze, you grind his face into your entrance. He groans, rich and deep, and it sends pleasant shockwaves through your system. Everything is hazy, like you’ve stepped into a dream, but you keep rolling your hips against his face, chasing your high. You’re heavy eyelids lift long enough to catch him staring up at you reverently, glasses askew and foggy, and that’s all it takes to send you spiralling over the edge. His unabashed worship for you, even now, made you clench around nothing as you came, the universe exploding into a million stars behind your eyes.

You’re not sure how long it takes for you to come back down, but by the time you do, Zayne has you in his lap, your head resting in the crook of his neck. The sensitive spot just below his ear is where his scent is the strongest, and when your head feels like your own again, you shift to nuzzle your nose into it. When that’s not enough, you start to nip at his neck, placing gentle kisses between lips. You can hear him exhale through his nose, and you feel the way he stiffens beneath you, trying not to interfere with whatever you’re doing. But he’s just so sensitive, and the little “anh!” that escapes his lips at your ministrations sounds almost like a whine.

“Are-mnph-are you feeling-ah-better?” He stutters out, his whole body weak to your touch.

“Mhm,” you mumble out against his neck, still not quite sure what you’re doing.

All you know is that he smells intoxicating, and you need more of him. You want to feel every inch of his skin against yours, want to cut him open and crawl inside of his skin so you can feel him everywhere. It makes you sick just how badly you yearn for him at this moment, and you bite down a little harder at the soft flesh of Zayne’s neck, grinning against his skin when his hips buck up against you.

“Mine.” You declare, before you can stop it.

It feels so natural, to call him yours. Almost like it’s always been that way. It twists your gut in a way you don’t understand, so you don’t try to. Instead, you lean back, taking in Zayne under you.

He’s flushed, a pretty red that spreads all the way from his cheeks down his neck, and he looks like your wettest dreams. He’s gnawing at his lip as he looks up at you so prettily, and your eyes flick down to them - a question. As you lean in, you give him enough time to back out, but he sinks into you instead, meeting your lips halfway. It’s a juxtaposition to the filthiness that went on earlier, the way he kisses you like you’re something delicate. You can still taste the hints of yourself on his tongue, and it makes you melt against him, fingers tangling into the short hair at the back of his neck. The moment shifts, and everything starts to feel more intimate. With the worst of the pain gone, you realize this is Zayne, your Zayne, the one who made you little snow seals when the seals at the aquarium made you feel bad. The one who texts you to make sure you’ve eaten lunch, and to make sure you’re not overworking yourself (to which you usually respond “hypocrite”, which shuts him up awful fast). You’re overwhelmed with something akin to embarrassment, and you pull away.

“Are you okay, darling?” He searches your face, concern written all over his expression. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

You hum, a noncommittal thing, still too embarrassed to properly look him in the eyes. He huffs, and squeezes your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, dragging you so close that your forehead knocks against his.

“Talk to me.”

It’s not a question, this time. It’s a command, and heat sparks in your stomach anew.

“I just…’m sorry I dragged you into whatever this is,” you say, unsure of yourself. 

“I know this is probably just work to you, but-”

“It’s never just work with you.”

He says it with such sincerity you can’t help but lean in to kiss him again, short and chaste. You hope he can feel your love in every move you make against him, that this means something more than just sex to you. 

And then it hits again - that twisting heat in your abdomen, like a punch to your stomach. It’s less bad, now that you’re pressed against Zayne, but it still makes you hiss, hand moving to put pressure on your stomach. He moves to pull you closer, looking down at your shaking frame.

“Anything you need, darling. Anything.”

So you beg. You plead until all that’s left of your voice is wispy breaths. You’re not even quite sure what you’re saying anymore, overwhelmed by the raw need to feel him fill you up, to have him carve the shape of himself into you. Your lips find his neck again, and your hands fumble for his belt, buried under the thick weight of his lab coat. His thighs twitch underneath you, and you shift just enough to yank his pants and boxers to his mid-thigh, enough for his cock to spring out of its confines. It smacks heavily against his black button-up, and god, is it glorious.

He’s impressive in length and in girth, the kind of thickness that would just split you apart if you weren’t already dripping for him. A lone blue vein runs up the underside of his cock, prominent and glistening with his own precum.You can feel your mouth watering at the idea of tracing it with your tongue. But when you go to slide off of Zayne to do so, his fingers find purchase on your hips, dragging your dripping heat to rest just over his leaking cock. You both groan at the contact, and you can’t help but press down into him, catching your clit right on the throbbing head of his dick. Heat overtakes your body, and your hips can’t help themselves as they began to rut down into him, your body begging you for more.

“I-fuck-I need t’feel you, need it, alpha,” you pant out, already forgetting your desire to taste him.

His eyes roll back in his head, fingers digging into the meat of your hips, hard enough to bruise. Something inside of you purrs at the idea of him marking you up with the kind of bruises that leave no doubts about what happened tonight.

“Darling I-hngh!-can’t hold b-back anymore,” Zayne starts, heaving as your hips refuse to slow down, “I have to have you. Can I? Please, can I have you?”

You can barely nod before an obscene rip echoes in the room. Between Zayne’s fingers is the tattered remains of your underwear, a lewd string of slick connecting it to your entrance still. You watch in awe as he presses the ripped fabric to his nose, inhaling deeply. His tongue darts out, and a groan rumbles out of his chest when he gets another taste of your slick, his dick twitching pathetically against your now bare entrance. 

And when his tip just barely catches against your entrance? It’s over, his cock already spurting hot cum against you, coating his abdomen. 

“W-what a waste, darling,” he murmurs, muffled by the underwear still pressed to his face. “Should-hah-should’ve been i-inside.”

And his free hand moves from its place on your hip down to his release, scooping up some of the sticky mess onto his fingers. Before you have a chance to question him, he’s pressing his fingers to your entrance, forcing his cum inside of you. The feeling of his thick fingers stretching your entrance has your head falling back and your mouth falling open in a silent scream. His fingers reach so deep, and you wonder, briefly, if you’ll even be able to take his cock. They escape your entrance once again, just to messily smear more cum into your hole, mean and unforgiving. 

If you weren’t so lost in your own pleasure, you’d be able to see how Zayne couldn’t look away from your entrance, now dripping with a mix of your slick and his release. He was hypnotized by the way you can’t help but grind down on his fingers, begging for more of him. He curls them just right, and his breath catches in his throat when you fall forward into him, moaning out his name. No pleas, no “alpha!”, just Zayne.

A sick, twisted part of him hopes it takes. He can already see it - how beautiful you’d be all round and heavy with his pups - and it makes him burlly another finger into your entrance, trying to dig his cum deeper into you. All he can think about is you, his sweet little darling, all powerful and strong, reduced to his little housewife.

“Can’t take it anymore,” you whine, snapping him out of his perverted  daydream. “Want your knot, want to feel you fill me up, please.”

And something mean twists in Zayne’s gut, something sharp twinkling in his eyes as he looks up at you. He slips the tattered underwear into the pocket of his lab coat, and his now freed hand moves to tilt your head to look at him.

“Are you sure, darling? I’m not sure I believe you,” he responds, eyes glowing with mirth, “Beg for it.”

What a cruel alpha he is, making a heat-riddled omega beg for his cock. But the idea of him not filling you up sends you into a frenzy, frantic pleas falling from your mouth as you squeeze around his fingers pathetically.

“No, no! Need it, promise I do. C-can’t you feel how-ahn!-wet I am? Please, ‘m drippin’ for you, need to feel your cock fill me up, need you to mark me as yours-uhn! I’m yours, aren’t I, Zayne?”

At the sound of his name, so sweet falling from your lips, Zayne rips his fingers from your entrance, fumbling to grasp at the base of his aching dick. It’s flushed red and he’s not sure how long he’s going to last inside of you when you’re looking at him like that. Like he’s the only thing left in the world, like you love him.

But neither of you can even think once his cock slides into your entrance. No amount of fingering could have prepared you for just how thick he truly was, and tears bead at the corners of your eyes at the stretch. And it just keeps going, keeps sinking into your heat until you feel him all the way in your stomach. His tip is kissing your cervix so sloppily, and it makes your walls clench around him.

And suddenly you’re in the air. You’re dizzy and disoriented as you move, his dick sliding impossibly deeper in a way that has your legs locking behind his back, keeping him there. His teeth dig into your shoulder at that, trying to keep his sounds down, but it’s impossible when you just feel so good.

With one hand, Zayne balances you against his body, and with the other, he sweeps the papers and trinkets off of his desk, not caring where they end up. He cradles your head as he drops your back to meet the cold surface of his desk, always worried about your safety, even when he’s balls deep in you. It makes your heart squeeze in your chest, an unfamiliar warmth flooding your body.

You don’t have much time to think, though, before he’s pulling his hips back until only his tip is still inside you. He stays there for a moment, loving the way you pulse around his sensitive head, before his self-control fully snaps, and he’s bucking into you wildly. The desk creaks under you, shifting under the raw power of Zayne’s thrusts, until you hear it roughly thunk against the wall. 

You’re certain the whole wing can hear you two, bodies sliding and humping at each other like animals, but you don’t care, not when his cock is slamming into that spot that makes you see stars. Your body surrenders to the heat overtaking it, surrenders to him, and you’re limp in his hold, forced to take until your body is satisfied.

“Z-Zayne, mark, pl-uhn-please?” You beg between moans.

And this isn’t really consent, not when you’re so deep in an unfamiliar heat, and the back of Zayne’s mind is screaming at him to stop, don’t give in. But when your head falls to the side, baring your neck to him so submissively, how was he ever supposed to resist?

His canines sink into the delicate flesh of your skin, right in the juncture where your scent gland rests, and it’s like fireworks explode behind your eyes. It feels like your souls are intertwining, a metaphysical connection that fills your entire being with the warmth of a thousand suns. Your body convulses under him, but that just makes him dig his teeth into your skin harder, the metallic taste of your blood filling his mouth. Only when your convulsing turns into weak twitching does Zayne’s jaw unlock. He presses gentle kisses into your shoulder, licking at the blood dripping from his mark, unable to stop his hips from still bucking into your sensitive body.

“You’re mine, mine, you hear me?” He babbles, not even realizing he’s saying anything at all.

“My omega, my perfect little darling, a-aren’t you? Fuck, ‘m gonna fill you up so good, make you-mhm-round with my pups, make you a pretty momma, knot you again and again and again until i-it takes. Do you-hah-want that, darling? Want to be my perfect little wife?”

Your head is filled with cotton and your limbs don’t feel like they’re even yours anymore, but you blink your weary eyes up at Zayne. His silhouette is blurry from the tears you can’t seem to control, but even blurred he’s still a sight to behold.

His glasses are barely still on his face, askew and only really still hooked on one of his ears. He’s still almost fully dressed, but his collar is mussed, and his pants and boxers have made their way around his ankles. His belt, still looped through his pants, clanks against the floor with every harsh thrust of Zayne’s hips, mixing into the symphony of moans and squelches filling his office. 

It’s obscene and sloppy, everything is dishevelled in a way that is so markedly not Zayne, but it makes you clench around him nonetheless. Only you get to see him like this, make him like this. It sends a thrill down your spine, and a rush of heat floods your abdomen, your walls fluttering around Zayne’s girth. 

“Darling, darling, feel so good for me, are you going to let go? Let go, let me feel you cum around me.” Zayne coos, looking down at you adoringly.

You frantically shake your head. You’re close, unbearably so, but you want-need Zayne to come undone with you. So you lift your feeble hands to grip at the hair at the back of Zayne’s neck and to pull his collar to the side. With the last of your strength, you yank him down to you, right into your eager mouth. He gasps as your teeth sink into his scent gland, and that’s all it takes - the base of his cock swells, and you can feel his knot start to take. The pathetic whimper that escapes Zayne’s mouth as your teeth sink deeper into his skin is enough to tip you off the edge, and you cum hard, biting into Zayne’s neck in a weak attempt to muffle your noises. It doesn’t matter anymore, really - the slam of the desk against the wall and the wailing you did earlier was certainly enough to tip anyone off to what was happening in here. But as you start to come back down to Earth, a wave of embarrassment overcomes you. This was your best friend. You just had sex - you just mated - your best friend, and an embarrassing part of you doesn’t even care. You’ve just claimed and marked the illustrious Doctor Zayne as yours, and he’s going to have to walk around the hospital after this, smelling like you and wearing your mark on his gland.

“It’s going to be a while before my knot goes down.” Zayne says, his voice still strained but mostly back to his normal matter-of-fact tone.

His knot. It all floods back to you - how you pleaded for his knot, how you begged him to mark you - and you fluster under his watchful eye.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter, still unable to really even look at him, “I shouldn’t have forced you to do this, to…to mark me.”

You say it with so much contempt that it makes the ever-stoic Zayne frown, concern written in the creasing of his eyebrows. The hand thumbing at your hip moves to cradle your face, and he leans closer to you, wincing at the way his sensitive cock shifts inside of your gummy walls.

“Do you…” he ponders for a moment, “Do you regret it?”

He looks at you, searching your eyes for even a hint of anger at him, but all he finds is guilt. Like somehow you were at fault for all of the sick things Zayne did to you when you didn’t know what was happening to you. It makes something in his stomach flip, sadistic and cruel. You were so sweet, thinking that any of this was somehow your fault, and it makes him want to bite into your scent gland all over again. It was likely that the effect of whatever hit you would soon fade, but a little voice in the back of his head hopes that the mark he left doesn’t fade with it. That when you have to go back to work, all of the people that so much as glance at you can tell that you’re his, that you’re off-limits forever. In every lifetime, he’s given himself up to get even a taste of your love, and a certainty settles into his gut that he’ll never be able to let you go again, not after he’s had you.

“Do…do you regret it?” You ask, still carrying that heavy guilt in your eyes.

“Of course not,” Zayne responds, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “I could never regret anything if it’s with you.”

– – –

ehehe thank you for reading!!! I don't have a sylus part planned, buuuut if anybody wants it please let me know! I just unlocked him and I wouldn't be opposed...

(also if you have other ideas for LADS send them in! I am so feral about them right now I will write just about anything)

[saltcxrcle]

meddle about ── . ✶ s. winchester

summary: you have a date night with sam and he gets tipsy (and horny)

pairings: established sam winchester x reader, sam winchester x fem! reader warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, no use of 'y/n', porn with very little plot, fluff, mentions of drinking, tipsy reader and sam, smut, oral fem! receiving, unprotected p in v sex, a sprinkle of a praise kink, aftercare, title is a chase atlantic song of the same name, kinda edited; all mistakes are my own word count: 1.7K a/n: i just need to have tipsy sex with sam RN, this was inspired by an ask blondie (@ohsc ugh i miss them dearly T-T) sent me a while back but i was reminded of it recently and decided that i needed to write it. lowkey sped run writing this bc intended it to be a blurb but i love to yap so enjoy the one shot! sam winchester masterlist

SAM USUALLY DOESN’T drink a lot, preferring to stay level-headed and coherent enough to watch out for you and Dean when the three of you go out. There are times when he indulges himself after a successful hunt and gets tipsy, but he is usually sobered up by the end of the night. 

Tonight was different though; the two of you had a date night, which was far and in between considering how often the three of you went out on hunts across the country. But lately, monster appearances were scarce, and other hunters were sent to take care of them. But you were starting to get stir-crazy within the bunker. So Sam took the two of you out on a nice dinner date, having gotten a reservation at one of the nicer restaurants in Lebanon.  

The both of you indulged in the drinks that the restaurant was serving, having copious amounts of wine—which always managed to make Sam a giggly and a happy drunk, his cheeks flushed and a dopey smile on his face. 

You were the one who drove back to the bunker since instead of having one last glass like Sam did, you had some water instead, sobering you up quite a bit. You were glad to see that Sam was letting loose for once and that the tension that he always held in his shoulders had dissipated. But once you got back to the bunker, Sam clung onto you and peppered kisses on your face and neck, stopping the two of you from heading to your room by pinning you against the cool walls of the bunker and pulling you into multiple small makeout sessions. 

You laughed against his lips at his sloppy kisses—they were usually more coordinated and precise. But tipsy Sam was eager and uncaring, but his kisses never lacked passion, whether it was a slow and sweet kiss or a lustful and dirty kiss. 

You managed to finally make it to your shared room with your boyfriend. You weren’t as tipsy as Sam, but you had a pleasant buzz thrumming through you, and you could feel that your face was flush with warmth (or it might have been from how Sam cupped your face in his hands as he pushed you against the wall and kissed you). 

Sam’s hands were on your hips and backing you up until you fell on the soft sheets of the bed. He all but collapsed on top of you, catching himself before he could hurt you with his broad frame. You let out a small laugh, Sam smiling widely at the sound, and you saw the amusement and desire shine in his hazel gaze as he looked down at you. 

“What?” You asked with a smile on your face as you cocked your head to the side slightly as you looked up at the man hovering over you. 

One of his hands came up to caress your cheek. “You’re beautiful. Just can’t believe that you’re mine.” Sam’s words were slightly slurred, but his tone was filled with reverence and adoration. 

“M’all yours.” You said with a breathy smile. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to you, his body slotting in between your open legs. “Love you Sammy.” 

“Love you too, honey.” Sam placed his lips against your slightly swollen ones, the feeling of love and desire washing over you as his soft lips moved against yours. He tasted like the sweet wine the two of you were drinking earlier and something you could only describe as distinctly Sam. 

The kiss slowly turned hotter and passionate, Sam’s tongue swiping at the seam of your lips before delving into it and sliding his tongue against yours in a sensual dance. Sam started to rut against you—his jean-covered bulge rubbing against your covered core sent sparks of pleasure through you, but it wasn’t enough, and he could tell. 

Sam broke the kiss, and you didn’t realize that you needed to breathe until you almost gasped for air. However, he was relentless with his kisses, trailing them down your jaw and neck. He nipped and sucked at your neck, marking you up as his hands went to the hem of the dress you were wearing for the date and started to lift it higher on your thighs. 

Sam made quick work of your dress, leaving you in only your underwear in front of him and let out a low groan at the sight of your bare chest. Before he could do anything, you sat up and tugged at the button-up shirt that was driving you crazy all night. It was a simple, crisp white button-up (no doubt from one of his fed getups), but the kicker was that he had rolled them up to the crook of his elbow, exposing the tanned skin of his forearms that never failed to make you salivate over them. You had a hard time focusing on him when all you wanted was to stare at his arms all night.

You managed to get all of the buttons undone before Sam’s hands landed on your shoulders and pushed you back on the bed, making a startled laugh escape your lips before it turned into a soft moan, feeling Sam nip at the smooth skin of your inner thighs as his hands trailed up your legs and thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake as his deft fingers found the hem of your soaked underwear. 

Sam’s eyes were honed in on the wet patch of your underwear before leaning in and pressing a sloppy kiss against it, making you jolt from the sudden contact before you heard a rip of fabric. You opened your mouth to chastise Sam for ruining another pair of underwear, but all that came out was a moan of his name as Sam’s dexterous tongue began to lave and lick at your weeping cunt. 

“Taste s’good, baby.” Sam’s words were mumbled into your skin, sending vibrations through you and adding to the already rising heat of pleasure running through you. 

Sam ate you out messily, uncaring of the slick covering his nose, lips, and chin as he drank in your arousal. Your hands were wound in his hair, pulling at it slightly and grinding into his face, chasing your high. 

You could feel sweat coat your body as Sam worked over your heated cunt. You came with a shout as pleasure shot through you and clenched around nothing as Sam kept his lips wrapped around your sensitive clit, sucking on it softly, working you through your orgasm. 

When you came to your senses and calmed down from your high, Sam was in the process of stripping off his jeans, his shirt long gone, and you stared at his bare torso. His sun-kissed skin was littered with scars, some big, some small, and the black ink of his tattoo stood out on his chest. 

“See something you like?” Sam teased as a sly smile grew on his face as he stroked his hard cock. 

You bit your bottom lip. “Yeah, you.” 

Sam let out a small chuckle before getting back on the bed, making you shift up to the pillows as Sam crawled up and over your body. 

There was still a haze over his eyes, but it mainly was lust rather than the haze of inebriation. Sam dipped his head down to kiss you deeply as his bare cock rutted against your slightly sensitive core. 

A groan left Sam’s lips as your tight cunt stretched around his cock. “Fuck, you’re so tight honey.” 

A whine escaped you at the feeling of Sam’s cock filling you up to the brim. The two of you panted into each other’s mouths; the feeling of one another was overwhelming—the air was buzzing with lust and thirst for one another. 

Another whine left you as Sam began to move slowly, pulling out until his tip was the only thing inside of you before pushing back in with a sharp thrust. From there, Sam started to pound into you with reckless abandon; his thrusts were unrelenting as he let his inhibitions run rampant—no longer clouded by rational thought. 

“You feel so good around me– fuck– such a good girl f’me.” Sam groaned out before pulling you into a kiss that was mostly teeth and tongue as he continued to fuck you into the mattress, the headboard thumping against the wall of your bedroom. 

A symphony of moans and groans filled the room alongside the sound of Sam’s skin hitting your flesh. You and Sam ran on your basic instincts and the urge to reach and fulfill your unrestrained desires for one another.

Both of you were unaware of how loud the two of you were being as Sam slammed into you. You were scratching at Sam’s back as his head was buried in the crook of your neck, biting and continuing his work of marking you up— red and purple bruises already blooming in the spots he had already nipped at. 

“My pretty girl, can’t get enough of you. So amazing. Love you so much baby.” Sam’s voice was thick with lust as he murmured praises in your skin and ear. 

He managed to wind one of his hands in between the two of you, Sam’s thumb swirling circles into your clit as he shifted his hips slightly and started to hit your g-spot with every thrust. 

“Gon-gonna cum.” You whined out feeling the heat in your core bloom brighter and hotter. 

“Yeah? Be a good girl and come around my cock.” Sam’s commanding tone made you clench harder around him, a low grunt coming from him as his hips stuttered slightly at the sensation of you wrapped tightly around him. 

Sam pressed down on your clit harder and you came with a sharp cry, your cunt contracting around his thick cock, triggering his own release as he shoved himself inside of you and let his cum fill you up even further.

The two of you stayed connected for a while as the two of you came down from your highs. Sam pulled out his softening cock, a whimper leaving your lips at the sensation of being empty. Sam made his way to the on-suite bathroom and used warm water to wet a hand towel. He quickly cleans you up and then himself up before maneuvering your tired and pliant body underneath the covers—tucking you into his side before falling asleep, uncaring of how he would probably wake up with a slight headache in the morning. 

[shadowsndaisies]

training slump

a/n: on par with posting wips, comes this next installment of the brightest of lights. timeline wise, it's early on into officially training with hal, but one they've got a little more comfortable with each other!

BUT ALSO I WAS NOT ANTICIPATING THE SUPPORT!! im so excited that so many of you are already interested in this!

main masterlist

brightest of lights masterlist

synopsis: hal jordan is trying his best, okay? and it'd be helpful if someone would do the same.

wc: 2.1k

At this point you were just glaring at the ring. it really didn’t look like much, and you had been pleasantly surprised to find that when you weren’t actively using the ring it would slim down to be less obvious. Regardless, right now the ring was sitting on the coffee table in your apartment, Hal was pacing back and forth, droning on about focus and realizing your power and potential. You were slumped on your sofa debating the repercussions of tossing the ring out the window.

“(y/n)… (y/n)! Are you even listening?” Hal huffed, pausing his lecture as he finally notices your slouched position.

“Unfortunately,” you groan, scrubbing at your eyes, trying to rub away your exhaustion, maybe you should throw yourself out the window instead.

“(Y/n), you can’t just expect this to be a breeze, alright? It takes dedication and hard work-“

“Hal, if this turns into a back in my day speech, I will throw myself out the window,” you huff, voicing your inner thoughts.

Hal’s face morphs into a cross of horror and like he’s questioning your sanity, which; fair. He stares at you like he’s finally noticing the finer details of your slump. The dropped shoulders, slumped back and sinking into the sofa, with dark bags under your eyes.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asks, suddenly frowning.

“Nothing, Hal. Please resume your explanation at my lack of focus,” you sigh, shifting a bit, hoping to give a more engaged appearance.

Hal quirks a brow and then starts looking around the apartment. You’re tracking his gaze as he analyzes everything. You notice how his gaze stops in the entryway first, eyes focused on the boots at the door, two pairs much dirtier than all the others. These particular boots were covered in grime and dried blood, and Hal’s brows pinch at the realization. His eyes dart to you quickly but he keeps his mouth shut before he resumes his analysis. He scans the the little table in the entryway, your keys are laid in a ceramic dish Cassandra had made for you and Jay when you both settled in here, behind the dish is a small indoor plant. Hal’s eyes don’t linger so you decide he probably hadn’t noticed the three small blades hidden in the pot. His gaze moves on, and you realize he also didn’t pick up on the fact that their were two hand guns magnetically strapped underneath the table, that, or he just didn’t care that they were there. His next focus is the kitchen, it’s obviously well loved, but clean, pristinely so, which you credit to Jason as it’s one of his niches. Despite that, there’s an open first-aid kit on the kitchen and Hal’s brow dips down a bit further, as he finally moves from his spot, walking to the kitchen island and rifling through whatever was left in the box. He focuses in on the first aid box, so you figure he didn’t notice that behind the fruit basket is another gun, nor the fucking katana Jason has some how manage to sheath between the fridge and far wall. Your eyes flicker over the space between you and Hal, counting weapons and hidden gear, but when you resettle on him he’s still frowning at the kit. He’s obviously not happy with what he sees because the next thing he does is open your trash bin.

You bite back the snort and a sarcastic “do you really think we’d leave the bag with our bloody bandages in?” but he turns back to you his expression set much deeper.

“Stand up,” his tone is serious, and you bite back the groan, because a serious Hal Jordan is your least favorite version of the man.

“What?” you ask, tone as innocent as you can manage.

“Stand up,” he repeats, tone void of its normal vivaciousness.

You stand up and fight back the urge to wince, making sure to stand straight and even, trying not to favor your right, despite the pain emanating from your left as you do so. Hal steps closer and raises a fist. Your eyes widen, but before you can react his ring is scanning over you, bathing you in green light for a moment.

Whatever the ring shows him makes him frown more before he finally asks, “what happened?”

You’re debating how to answer, the truth isn’t exactly what you’d prefer to offer, but you do want to shit this down, whatever it is. “Nothing to worry your pretty head about, Hal. Can we resume our talking about why I can’t get the stupid ring to work?” you offer as an attempt to distract.

“(y/n), this scan says you’re suffering through the after effects of severe blood loss,” he states and you refrain from offering a scathing remark but he continues, “your first aid kit is depleted, there’s blood on those boots by the door, both pairs, and I’m pretty sure those are bloody finger prints on the windowsill over there,” he huffs, gesturing to the window.

Your gaze snaps to the window and you can’t help but frown because he’s right. But also because you had missed when he clocked that, the blood loss was making you sloppy. You roll your tongue over your teeth in thought before deciding, “I’d like to invoke my fifth amendment rights?”

“Fifth-! You’re not under arrest!” he shouts.

“Well, frankly, I don’t appreciate your tone, Harold,” you lament, deadpanning at the man.

Hal gapes at you for a second, “oh my god,” he mumbles, rubbing at his forehead in a way that screams tired dad, in fact, you’re sure you’ve seen Bruce do the same thing, though it’s normally targeted at Steph and Tim if you were honest.

When your thoughts start drifting you feel your body sway a bit and realize why your train of thought is so scattered, “Not to add to your internal crisis, but can I sit back down? Because if not, I might pass out,” you tell him calmly, the admission coming a few moments after he had begun to pace a bit and once the room seemed to start spinning slowly.

“The fuck? YES! Sit! Oh my God (y/n)! I- you- what-“ he seems to stutter over how to proceed when you nearly collapse back onto the sofa. He stares for a second before moving closer to check you over, “I’m not prepared to be a dad,” he finally mumbles.

“You’re not my dad,” you offer up with a weak chuckle and Hal freezes as the realization of what you had said settles.

“Are you? Was that a MEME?” he asks, squinting.

“It’s a vine, Hal. Totally different, but gold star for the effort. It went totally over Bruce’s head, and he started pulling up Jase’s adoption paperwork in retaliation,” you admit with a strained smile.

“(Y/n), I mean this kindly, but what the fuck is wrong with you, kid?”

You wheeze out a laugh which quickly turns pained, a hand coming to rest by your stitches on your left as you turn back to Hal with a small smile, “you couldn’t handle it, Harold. Plus, B told me to ease you into the whole pseudo-dad-mentoring thing.”

“he told you to ease me into it?” he asks, crouching down next to you, a slightly perturbed expression on his face.

“He was worried I might be too much all at once for you to handle,” you shrug.

Hal sighs before standing and then collapsing into the couch beside you. He runs a hand through his hair, staring at the celling and shaking his head, “he’s probably right, gothic bastard,” he sighs, relenting.

“Sorry,” you mutter, eyes falling back on the ring.

“Don’t be,” he tells you before joining you in staring at the ring. “But, uh, I probably know why your ring’s not working.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. White Lanterns draw their power from within. You are exhausted, stressed, dehydrated, short of some blood, and probably sleep deprived. Your body just doesn’t have anything to offer the ring right now,” he explains.

“oh.”

“Yeah.”

“You weren’t supposed to find out about the blood loss,” you admit softly.

“No?”

“It’s why Jase threw out the trash with our bloody bandages, why we cleaned up this morning, and why he’s not here.”

“Why isn’t he here?”

A lazy smirk takes your lips, “his black eye’s a bit harder to hide than my stitches are.”

Hal heaves another sigh, “how many?”

“Seventeen,” you tell him honestly.

“Seventeen?!” the sound accompanying his question had to be shriek, maybe a screech, definitely in that family.

You shrug, “it’s not the worst I’ve ever had, Hal. Gotta be honest with you.”

“B was right, this is terrifying,” he groans, rubbing a hand over his face.

“What?”

“Suddenly giving a fuck about a whole other person,” he says, turning to look at you directly.

“Don’t worry too much. I have Jase.”

“You two seem… close,” he alludes after a beat.

Your eyes narrow, “we are. we have to be,” you defend.

“Sure, but I’ve known Jason since he was running around in green tights. The dynamic you both have isn’t just out of necessity. Trust me, I’ve seen him when B calls him in for JL stuff. He cares about you, kid,” Hal explains.

“I know,” you whisper, because you do. You know in how gently he stitched you up last night, the way he does every time. You know it in the scars he’s received by putting himself between you and a bullet or a blade. In the way he cooks your favorites, and lets you pick movies. You know he cares, and you know he knows that you care just as much.

“Should I be worried?” Hal asks.

“Always,” you say without missing a beat, but then pause and add, “about what specifically?”

“You and Jason.”

You want to snort and insinuation, as if Jason, your Jason, would ever hurt you. Your partner, your roommate, your classic literature loving nerd who re-reads Pride and Prejudice at least every other month, who was so excited for the movie version of Emma that he dragged you to a theater to go watch it, that Jason. As if he would ever do anything that would put you in harms way excessively and unnecessarily. You almost laughed at the thought, because although he was built like a tank, and could bench press two of you, Jason Peter Todd had the softest, kindest heart you’d ever seen.

Jason, who lived through the worst, who had every reason to be as hardened as any random on the streets of Gotham, but took the time to look out for the kids who didn’t have some one, the kids who could’ve been him, and the ones that were. Jason, who made sure to check in with every girl working the streets. Made sure they were at the very least of age and not being forced into it, who made sure they worked for themselves and not some uncaring pimp. Jason, who still went when Bruce called, despite his complaints and their history. Jason, who loves his brothers, who loves Roy, Kori, Bizzaro, and Artemis, and would go to the ends of the earth for them if they asked. Jason, who was loyal, brave, and kind.

Your focus came back to Hal, who was still staring at you, waiting for your answer. “Individually? Absolutely, we both like to play fast and loose with the laws of physics and our grey areas,” you admit. “But,” you add, voice growing soft. “When we’re together, you can worry less. Jase always has my back, and I always have his.”

“I think I’m starting to see that,” Hal admits cautiously.

You sniff a bit throwing a mischievous smile Hal’s way, “You shouldn’t spend too much time worrying about me anyways. It’ll drive you grey and make you crazy, Hal.”

Hal snorts, “it already is, kid.”

Your smile softens, “you know, other than B, I haven’t really had parental figures. It’s nice to know there’s someone else out there who cares if I manage to get myself stabbed on patrol,” you admit.

“Someone who would prefer if you didn’t get yourself stabbed in the first place,” he clarifies, but throws an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into for a small side hug, mindful of your injury.

“Thanks, Hal.”

“I already told you, I’m looking out for you now (Y/n). I meant it.”

...

everything tags: @butterfly-skinnylegend

dc taglist: @batarella @loninctzencarat @escapenightmare @uh-oh-howd-i-get-here

bol taglist: @mxtokko @myxticmoon @pink-panda-pancakes

[spideysquake]

death of a bachelorette

⋆˙⟡ series masterlist ⟡˙⋆

drew starkey x costar!reader

summary: two of the hottest stars in the industry get cast in one of the most highly anticipated films of the year. as the movie films and the press tour goes on, the public falls in love with the two actors' chemistry. but they may not be the only ones falling in love...

death of a bachelorette synopsis: a half slasher, half romantic comedy about persephone (percy) moore and elliott (eli) lewis, who meet at a wedding and hit it off, only to find themselves running for their lives from a vicious serial killer.

⋆˙⟡ moodboards⟡˙⋆

⋆˙⟡ table of contents ⟡˙⋆

one

two

three

four

five

inspired by: @sworeidnevercompromise's pillow talk series

© this blog belongs to spideysquake

[sillygoosealert]

WAITTTT…..Bi Hans baefy has him wrapped around their finger so what about Bi Han introducing him to the earthrealm crew like Johnny and Kung Lao and yknow Johnny being Johnny tryna get in them panties so Bi Han starts going off on him and reader is just like “don’t do that” and whispers something in his ear so he just hangs his head low and begrudgingly apologizes

Beefy man with beefy arms

DOWN BOY DOWN

Bi-Han being silly (he was upset), fluff (??)

Holding hands, you walk with Bi-Han and his brothers to a place you have yet to be

He changes his hand placement, putting it on the small of your back instead

They're there for a meeting but brought you along to keep him sane

However, before the meeting, a few people wanted to see you

Was it that shocking he could possess feelings for another soul? Perhaps

They are diverse, to say the least

A blind swordsman, who is quite nice

A humble hero

A not humble not hero

And a movie actor

A cocky movie actor, but he is a friend of Tomas’s, so you can not say much

But he has a lot to say, too much one would enunciate

‘Damn baby, you might have to give me mouth-to-mouth because you just took my breath away’

A crude, disgusting comment that does not need to be heard through your pure ears

That's what was going through Bi-Hans head

‘You imbecile, such- such fowl words. Do not talk to her like that, as you have no respect behind your words.’

He's fuming, steam is practically coming from his ears

You put a hand on his shoulder

‘Don't, it's not worth your time. He should not be riling you up this much.’

What you say is true, but a feeling of pride is also running through your thoughts at his immediate defense of you

He grunts like some caveman, maybe it is code for something you haven't figured out yet

After staring at Johnny for a good minute, he formulates something

‘My..apologies for lashing out Cage. Please understand I did not mean offense in my words’

‘I get it, I would say the same thing, man. We're cool’

he cackles, slapping his knee as he quickly defuses the situation

Do you think he has ill intentions? Not at all, he's just a guy trying to lighten things with awful jokes and pickup lines

Maybe you could shed that light on Bi-Han later, show him your perspective

He likes it when you do that, talk to him

Maybe it's not obvious, but he loves talking

To you at least

Late-night chats as he lays his head on your thighs

But right now he just wants to get everything over with, and that's fine

It's fine now, no harm is done and no one is upset and saying something about it

The rest of the day goes smooth

You talk to Bi-Han when the time is right

And he sees your view on it, and you see his. He feels better after the talk

He handled it well, you're proud of him

What should have happened 😔🎀

[prettydaisygirl]

boyfriend!James Potter x fem!reader who thinks he's cheating ✿ 1.8k words

cw: fem reader, reader thinks James is cheating (he isn't), James is a professional athlete and kind of a himbo, reader is jealous/a bit possessive of James, Sirius and Remus back reader up, angst with a happy ending

james potter masterlist

°˖✧✿✧˖°

James Potter. Your beautiful, wonderful, oh so sweet boyfriend. He is the best man in the world. Except he has one flaw. 

He is way, way too trusting. 

You believe it’s because of his heart, too big for his body. He carries his emotions like a badge of honor, wanting to be good and see the good in others. And because of this, your boyfriend can be a little naive. 

“Jamie, I just don’t think it’s a good idea-“ You’re trying to reason with him, but as lovely as James is, he is also stubborn. 

“I just don’t see why you are making such a big deal out of this, angel.” James is wiping down plates, setting them aside for the team dinner tonight. “Olivia is a part of the team, she asked if she could come!” “She’s not a part of the team, she’s your social media manager.” You argue, rolling your eyes, but James doesn’t let up.

“She told me she thinks you have something against her.” You stop for a moment at James’ words, placing the towel you just finished folding aside. You raise your eyebrows at your boyfriend.

“And her words are so much more important than mine?” 

James seems to know he struck the wrong cord when his shoulders sink a bit. “That’s not what I said. But you did ignore her the entire dinner last week.”

“I told you when you came home from that meet in Florida, James. She was all over you, I watched it on tv.” You hate the way you sound, you know James doesn’t see Olivia’s actions the way you do. 

“You haven’t really met her, my love. I promise once you do, you’ll see that she is just our social media manager, and she wants us to look good so we get more sponsors!” James makes his way in front of you where you sit on the couch, kneeling down to meet your level. “Just give her a chance.”

You really rather wouldn’t. You’d rather James listen to you when you tell him about your concerns. But you know tomorrow’s meet is important to your boyfriend, so you decide to swallow your pride and nod.

“Fine.”

You regret agreeing almost immediately. 

Your house swarms with tall, athletic men. You don’t know when your home became the pre-meet dinner spot, but you don’t mind. You find great pride in helping James and his team do well. 

Olivia shows up after the rest of the team has arrived. When you open the door, her grin falters for a second before she reaches out a hand to greet you, squeezing too tight. She eyes you up and down and you decide to attach yourself to James for the evening. 

You latch yourself onto his side, arm around his waist. His own settles around your shoulders and for most of the dinner you can keep the green jealousy monster at bay. Especially when surrounded by his teammates, laughing and joking at the dinner table.

The best part about James’ team is that the others have seemingly adopted you. Remus and Sirius especially, given their lifelong friendship with your boyfriend. You’re always with them, and you consider them very close friends.

You’re chatting with Remus about his new favorite novel when you realize James has been in the bathroom for a long time. Remus sees the moment he loses your attention, your brow furrowing as your eyes scan over the room, looking for James in the small crowd of his teammates. He isn’t there.

“Are you looking for James?” Remus asks, eyes darting around, and your expression changes, mouth pursing a bit.

“And she’s gone too…” You whisper, under your breath but loud enough for Remus to hear. He seems to put the pieces together right as you stalk off toward the staircase.

Your heart pounds as you make your way upstairs, toward the bathroom. You feel your head spin when the door is open and the light is off. 

Things get worse when you hear James’ voice. You can’t make out what he’s saying but it comes from the bedroom. You step closer, and the next words you are able to make out definitely come from Olivia’s mouth. 

“Why does she even need to know?” The words sound sultry, spoken slow and sweet in a way that makes every hair on your body raise up.

The door is cracked open just enough for you to see the two of them. She is sitting on your bed, her perfectly manicured hand wrapped tightly around your boyfriend’s wrist. You can’t see James’ face and you’re glad for it.

“Olivia-“ His warm, rich tone reaches your ears but you’re gone before you can hear anything else. You try to flee silently down the hall, down the stairs, and past the team. You’re two feet away from the door when Sirius steps into your path and you bump into him.

“Hey-“ He starts to greet you with a smile but it drops the moment he sees your face. You don’t know what you look like. Frantic, maybe? Are you flushed? Crying? You aren’t sure, all you feel is the need to get out of here. “Woah, are you alright?”

“I just-“ You take a heavy breath and move to step around him. You can definitely feel tears pooling in your eyes now and you shake your head. “I have to go.”

The last thing you see before the door shuts behind you is Remus approaching Sirius with a questioning look on his face, looking toward the door where you left. 

You walk for a while, nervous to go too far. You turn off your phone, just wanting some space and to be left alone for a while. You stay in familiar areas, especially given how the sun has fully set now. Eventually you reach the park near your house and take a seat on a bench. 

Your mind races. You didn’t see or hear anything that explicitly suggested your boyfriend was considering having an affair with the team’s social media manager. But her voice, the way she was holding his wrist. It’s obvious that’s what she was asking him. 

There are two different possibilities here. You couldn’t see James’ face, only his back and the way he stood in front of her. Either he was going along with it, or he wasn’t.

You know James. James loves you, and he is not a man who is afraid of showing it. He’s always getting you flowers and little gifts, leaving you small love notes. Before he leaves for every practice he gives you an extra long kiss to your lips, then your forehead, and he whispers, “I love you, angel.” You know James.

So, why hadn’t he pulled away from her? 

It was that thought that kept you on the bench. You sit there longer than you should. Any other night, any other circumstance, if you were out this late and James couldn’t reach you, you know he’d be worried sick. Your legs are stiff and your lower back aches when you finally stand. The walk back to your house is miserable, your soul heavy with anticipation. You don’t know what you will do if this somehow ends with you losing James. 

The lights are still on when you approach the house. The only car left in the driveway is James’ so you know all of his teammates have gone home. That means Olivia is gone too. 

Your feet drag as you move up the steps to the front door. You know it’s unlocked but you get your key out and move to unlock it anyway, just to delay this for just a moment. Every second is heavy with possibility, your heart aching. 

The door creaks open and you step inside. James sits up on the living room couch and the two of you lock eyes immediately. The first thing you notice is that his eyes are red-rimmed and swollen, they probably ache as much as yours do. You hate the thought that he has been crying here by himself. 

James stands, and he’s in front of you before you can blink. He gathers you into his arms like you’re something precious and you feel the warm heat of his breath on your neck as he exhales shakily. You wrap your arms around him too, grasping gently at the fabric of his shirt.

“Angel,” He breathes into your skin, and you find your eyes closing. His scent is warm, familiar and comforting. For a moment, just a moment, you let yourself go, focusing only on how wonderful it is to be in his arms. 

His voice pulls you out of it, rough and scratchy from crying. “I’m sorry I really didn’t think-“

You open your eyes to blink up at him when he pulls back. This is the worst conversation the two of you have ever had and it hasn’t even really started yet. You hate fighting with him. 

“Jamie-“ You start to say something. To tell him that you just need him to tell you he loves you. But you don’t get the chance, he’s already speaking.

“No, listen. I’m so sorry, I should have listened to you,” The look on his face breaks your heart, and when his eyes turn glassy, you can’t help but find your own burning again. “I thought she was just being nice, that she wanted to do a project for the team. I didn’t- when she said ‘we’, I didn’t think she meant her and I, I thought she meant the team, you know?” 

“Jamie-“ Your quiet, shaky voice barely breaks through his rambling explanation. His hands move to cup your face. 

“Sirius and Remus already chewed me out, and I know I messed up.” He says, his voice cracking a bit. His expression is raw and a tear slips down his cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” The words are barely out of your mouth when he kisses you. You don’t know if it is the intensity of the situation or the buildup of emotions but you find your knees weak and your grip on him tightening. 

“Jamie-“ You whisper against his lips, a silent plea.

“We fired her.” He whispers back, lips disconnecting from yours as he leans back just enough to look in your eyes. “As soon as I realized what she was asking me, I shut her down.”

“I know.” You tell him. And you do. You know James loves you, and you believe him when he tells you nothing happened with Olivia. “I shouldn’t have… run off. I just needed some time to think. And now you have your meet tomorrow and-“

“Don’t worry about me. I just need you.” James brushes his lips against your forehead before placing another lingering kiss to your lips.

“I love you, angel.” 

“I love you too, Jamie.” 

°˖✧✿✧˖°

© prettydaisygirl