#I wish I were strong enough to just figure it out instead of sitting on the fence about it

[wewontbesleeping]

when you’re in love, really in love, you always feel like you finally did it, like you cracked the code and Beat The Odds and you found It. Soulmates are real and everything is perfect now. When I fell in love for the first time, I thought “how could anyone ever get divorced? just wait until you get THIS feeling, and then you know it will last forever!” and now I look back into that relationship and think I don’t even recognize either person who was in it. Things break and burn and end and it’s interesting to me to see people say about Taylor and Joe “but she really thought it was forever, something terrible must have happened” and all I can say is that we always do think it’s forever, and frankly people who are in love are not the best judges of reality. I don’t know anything about their relationship and it’s honestly not really my business, but I’m just reflecting on it right now as I think about my own long term relationship and the potential direction it will go.

[norrisleclercf1]

Hey! Hope you are doing well! For norstappen Lando has not been feeling well (he did not tell anyone) and it shows during a race, during interviews and such they mention how lando had not done well and when max sees the videos he tried to comfort lando :(

A/N: Lando would 100% do this but I think he'd tell reader and make sure she wouldn't tell anymore

"Lando, maybe you should rest this race." You whisper, seeing the worn-down expression, his eyes sunken and a little puffy and lips a little pursed as he was having trouble breath through his nose. "I can't, we've been doing so well, need to be there for the team." Lando grumbles, putting his head between his legs.

You make a noise of disagreement and bite your thumb, wanting to go get your other boyfriend Max, knowing one look at Lando and Max would storm right up to Zak and Andrea and tell them Lando will not drive. He wouldn't say, isn't, it's will not drive, and he would not take no for an answer.

"You aren't telling Max; I know what you're thinking. Don't do that to me," Lando wheezes before throwing himself into a fit of coughs. "Lando, please you're sick, don't drive." You beg through the phone, you wish you were there or else he wouldn't be driving. "I'm driving Y/n, I need too. I'll be fine, take some non-drowsy cold medication, eat something and jump in the car." He groans, setting down the phone and blowing his nose.

"You're so stubborn, just tell Max, promise me?" You ask, Lando groans and picks up the phone, "Okay, I'll tell him." You feel some relief hearing that as you know Max would be up in arms at his boyfriend being sick.

"Alright, I love you baby, please get some rest." Lando nods and kisses his hand and waves at you as he ends teh FaceTime and groans loudly wanting to just curl up into a ball and die. Lando hasn't felt this bad since Brazil '22 where he had food poison during his birthday.

Banging on his door has him sitting up and runs over and applies some concealer to give him some hint of color rather then looking pale. "Coming!" He yells and curses, sounding so congested and moves blowing his nose and takes a tentative sniff being able to feel some air pass his nose and he sighs. "Good enough,"

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

"Lando? Everything okay?" Will asks through the coms as Lando curses, being passed by the Haas and dropping to P16. "Yes, just having trouble," Lando turns off his radio and tries hard to keep his eyes open, fighting with everything in him to finish this hell of a race.

To make it worse, they were in the desert and Lando was sweating like crazy. He couldn't figure out if it was from the heat or the fever coursing through his body. The rest of the race passes in a blur before Lando is pulling in a horrible P19.

Lando could feel everyone staring at him, his team rushing to his side as Lando pulls himself up and takes a second to get the world to stop spinning. "Lando? Are you okay?" One of the mechanics asks, but Lando waves him off and walks away, heading to his media manager.

Pulling off his stuff he drops down on a chair and places his head between his knees. "Lando? Lando?" Honestly Lando doesn't remember much after that.

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

"Max! Congratulations on winning the GP, we know you're not the biggest fan of media so we'll be quick. We know that you are having a fabulous race and Red Bull couldn't be prouder, so how does that feel?" Max smiles, it's always the same questions but really, he just wanted to know where Lando went.

Lando started P3, but he didn't see him when they pulled up to the podiums, instead Charles and Lewis were on the podium and Max still couldn't get anyone to tell him where Lando was.

"Um, yeah it was a lovely race, Red Bull is happy with where we are and to continue this season as strong as we started, and we will continue to do that. But I was really hoping for a fight with the McLaren of Lando but didn't get one. Where did he finish?" Max was smooth with it, to the other drivers they would've rolled their eyes and made fun of him for checking up on his boyfriend.

"Oh, Lando finished P19, something seemed wrong, even in his interviews," The person points over to a screen and Max freezes seeing how tired and defeated Lando looked. "Max?" Max whips his head around and smiles, acting like he wasn't internally panicking. "Sorry, I've got to go, thank you so much," Max waves and walks off, practically storming through the paddock and reaching McLaren not caring for the stares from the crew as he makes his way to Lando's driver room.

Shoving the door open he sees Jon placing a warmth cloth over Lando's nose and a cold one on his boyfriends forehead. "Max," Max just gives Jon and look and the older man nods his head and walks out leaving Max alone with Lando.

"You're sick," Max points out, which elicits a loud groan from Lando who doesn't even have the strength to talk. "Lando, you should've told me." Max whispers and sits down on the floor so he was eye level with Lando. Lando doesn't do anything but holds his hand out which Max happily takes. Raising his hand, he kisses Lando fingers and moves closer to where Lando puts his other hand in Max's hair.

"You're sick baby, you shouldn't have raced." Max begs and lies his head on Lando's stomach. "Needed too, race, shouldn't have. Did horrible." Lando sniffles, and Max coos, moving closer and pulls Lando into his arms. "It's okay, let's just focus on getting you better yeah?" Max asks, and Lando nods curling more into Max and sighs. "Y/n is going to be mad," He whispers which makes Max snort.

"Don't worry, I won't tell her you lied to me," Lando smiles and hides his face in Max's neck.

[moonlightazriel]

Acotar Males: Yelling at you and watch you get horny over it

Summary: “i wish you could wrote headcanons where the acotar men yells at reader and instead of being sad or hurt, she is squeezing her thighs and has heart eyes bc it’s hot and they look so hot being mad”

Warnings: SMUT, jealousy and cursing.

Word Count: 1K

Notes: I loved writing this hehehe

Main Masterlist

Rhysand:

He’s pacing around the room, power sweeps through his control at the thought of another male flirting with you.

You notice the sour mood he’s in, sitting on your vanity table as you start to remove the jewellery adorning your neck.

“That fucker was flirting with you.” Anger laces his voice, the animalistic tune sending shivers down your spine and reaching the wrong parts of your body.

Clenching your legs for some friction as that burning rage gaze locks with yours through the mirror. Your cunt throb and you know you shouldn’t feel this way especially cuz he’s fucking yelling at you.

But all you can think is him angrily pounding on you from behind, your face pressed in the cold surface as he fills you up to the brim.

He caught the change in the scent, a cruel smirk creeping up on his beautiful face.

“You dirty little thing, you like that, don’t you?” His voice is raspy as he approaches you, ready to give what you want.

Cassian:

Cassian wasn’t the jealous type, he trusted you and knew you would never cheat on him, but something about that fucker with his hands on your waist, guiding you on a very slow dance, when it should be him dancing with you, that drove him insane.

He had enough, leaving his spot by the throne in the Court of Nightmares, and grabbing you by the waist, throwing you over his shoulders like you weighed nothing, and compared to his bulky figure you probably didn’t.

“Never, ever again, let those filthy males touch you.” He yelled in your face, he had you on the tips of your toes, caged against his strong arms and a wall, his eyes looking at you up and down. “You’re mine.”

You knew he was angry at the male and not at you, but you were on the receiving end of his anger, but instead of sadness, lust coated your thoughts as they wandered to what he would do with all that anger in bed.

“Please fuck me.” You blurted, he looked at you with a smirk.

“As you wish, princess.” He said riding your skirt up and squeezing your ass, giving you a pull until you wrapped your legs around his waist.

Cassian fucked you harshly against the wall, sucking on the skin of your neck and marking you so no one would ever be bold enough to touch you again.

Azriel:

A whole day gone, he hasn't heard from you for 12 hours. To say he was angry was a light way to put things. He was simmering with rage.

And there you sat, cunt throbbing, clenching around nothing as he yells at you, the angrier he gets, the vein on his neck popping and his face getting redder, the wetter you get.

He’s so lost in his mind that he almost didn’t notice the little whimper you let out as you pressed your thighs against one another for some kind of relief.

Almost is the key word, as your sweet intoxicating scent hits his nostrils and he’s a starved man, stopping mid sentence to feel that scent, his favourite fragrance in the world.

“You’re turned on?” Sarcasm drips from his tone, he stalks closer to you pulling you up by the wrists in a swift motion. “Let’s see if you take me seriously after this.”

He sits down, pulling you on his lap, ass in the air, he slowly drags your clothes down, the cold air in the room hitting your exposed cunt.

“Just 5 slaps, and you have to count.” He warns before he descends his palm on your ass cheek, leaving a red imprint of his hand and you a whimpering mess begging for more.

Lucien:

It was hard for Lucien to get angry, or even snap at you. He was just the sweetest male ever and would treat you like a queen.

You however craved something more, you wanted to ignite that fire in his veins, let it burn you and consume you whole.

Lucien reached his boiling point when he saw you bathing your eyelashes to another guy, he saw red, before gently grabbing you by the arm and pulling you with him.

You could already feel the mess in your pants by that gesture alone, but when he sat you in bed, yelling at you for letting that guy even near you, you lost all control.

Lucien took a deep breath, the fresh air mixed with your arousal awakened that fire in him, making him go to you, holding your face in between his hands.

“It was on purpose, wasn’t it?” He demanded, you didn’t trust your voice and just shook your head like the good girl you were.

“Then darling, you’ll have what you wished for.” He says, ripping the buttons of your dress open and pulling a breast to his mouth.

Eris

The day had been stressing as fuck, meetings and more meetings and more meetings, arrogant lords trying to get in between things that didn’t concerned them.

Eris felt the anger boiling to a point he couldn’t barely keep it together anymore, so he decided to call it a day and go to your shared room.

There you are, the tiniest nightgown ever, books and papers scattered around in bed, he just wanted to lay down and relax. He didn’t register his words and he regretted them as soon as they left his mouth.

“Can’t you be organised for once?” He had yelled, you looked at him, and that gaze burned your whole body, sending a wave of pleasure straight to your pussy. You didn’t even know why this turned you on, but his heavy breathing and the way he was looking at you had to be the hottest thing ever.

“I’m sorry my love.” He said in a rush, kneeling in front of you, trying hard not to look from the exposed skin of your cleavage, where your breasts spilled from their thin confinement.

“Can you talk to me like that again, while you fuck me dumb?” He took in her hungry gaze and with a hand around her throat, pulling her in for a heated kiss, he said.

“Whatever my goddess wishes.”

[ipegchangbin]

Imagine this: Changbin hiding the fact he tried to masturbate thinking his lover was out for too long..forgot to take out the vibrator in him and he tries to lie while holding back the noises..the whole night it's in him moving around and he keeps holding back..but when they are about to sleep his lover asks him if he's hiding anything..this has been in my head and it turns me on

anon. oh my god.

🏷️ sub!changbin. dom!gn!reader. established relationship. sex toys.

it’s so good. way too good to stop. changbin keeps the vibrator inside him while he fists his cock for what seems like forever.

he wishes that the vibrator was being controlled by you, so he recreates your cruelty — and sweetness — by hiding the remote under his pillow while he uses yours between his legs.

but before he could hump the pillow, hell seeps through the crack between the door frame once changbin realizes you’re at the door.

knock, knock, knock.

“binnie, i’m back,” you yawn, stretching your arm as you swing the door open.

oh fucking shit.

changbin isn’t quick enough despite your slow movements. he pulls up his shorts but forgets to turn the vibrator off, so he simply clamps his legs shut with your pillow instead. he looks all sorts of weird, face fully flushed and sweaty, his body covering more than half the bed, curly hair tousled although he hasn’t slept, face shocked as if he didn’t expect you home — though he should have, it’s just that he didn’t check the time.

so much for jerking off. rather, so much for thinking about you.

“how’ve you been?” you tilt your head, curious at your suspiciously flushed boyfriend.

thank god that the vibrator that you got for changbin is silent, but why did it have to be so strong? changbin

“i just…worked out a bit,” he huffs, “uhh, did some cooling down exercises here.”

“didn’t you just come from the gym?”

“i did! and…i was bored, so i did jumping jacks…” changbin cuts you off a little too excitedly.

there’s a star in changbin’s eye when he winks at you as a distraction from the fact that the little toy is fucking him on the highest setting. he struggles not to whine, so he coughs a bit after shooting you a reassuring smile.

you’re not really buying it though, but nothing shows on your face. he mistakes it for the coast being clear. he kind of hopes you’d briefly get out of the room, though.

“oh well. i also have some unfinished work.” you sit down on the edge of the bed beside his legs, reaching for your laptop from your bag. “mind if i just finish this?”

he minds. a lot.

firstly, you look way too hot. you’re just in everyday semiformal, but that’s the exact type of clothing changbin imagined you in while he was abusing his cock earlier. secondly, you’re right there and way too close. it makes the butterflies pool in his stomach, but the butterflies fly in tornadoes until they burst into flames. he figures it’s from both from the close proximity and from the sickeningly unforgiving vibrator.

and thirdly, the said vibrator found its way through changbin’s sweet spot, giving him a full body shiver. you could feel him quivering through the comforters.

“is my binnie okay?”

“i’m f-fine. just tired.”

you silently question whether muscle spasms can cause vibrations as big as that. they could, but not like that. in fact, he shakes eerily similar to the time you tried that vibrator for the first time.

he was a screaming mess. his ass was moving on its own, in the air and quivering from the sensations inside him. he kept begging for you, unclear with what he desired specifically, but you knew that he just wanted you. all of you. he wanted more of what you were doing, whining your name with no aim of a demand, drooling onto the bedsheets while his fists grabbed helplessly onto the pillows as you put the vibrator into the highest setting for seconds on end, making him cum.

it’s too bad he can’t do any of that now.

so he stares. he stares at you and what you’re working on while awkwardly trying to shift positions on the bed. he tries helplessly to stop the vibrator from hitting the spot that gets him cumming the hardest, but it only goes further in. his walls clench and tighten around the toy while he watches your fingers. he catches your reflection in the laptop screen.

he’s so fucked, literally and figuratively.

you look back at your pitiful boyfriend.

the poor pillow between changbin’s thighs and the vibrator is suspiciously wrinkled, but you think nothing of it as your boyfriend shifts his position slightly again. you think he’s just acting naturally cute like this, thighs squeezed against the fabric while the curvature of his ass peeks from behind his hips.

it looks delicious. so plump that not even the facade of his body can cover it. it looks especially full, and you know this even if you’re unaware that it’s literally filled.

you can’t help the urge, and so you slap changbin’s ass.

what a fucking mistake.

the boy’s eyes widen as he successfully bites back a supposedly loud whine. that’s what he thinks, as a little whimper betrays his lips in the process.

but you try to think nothing of it, smirking at him instead.

“so cute,” you coo.

if only he could run to the bathroom without cumming in his shorts. everything affects him to such a high degree that he’s red, warm to the touch, and sweating buckets. he merely digs his head into his pillow and clenches his ass instinctively, hopelessly looped back into the never-ending cycle of suffering that he got himself into.

then you get up from your spot. you slam the laptop down and stretch, putting the device lazily on the bedside table without a second thought. you toss your accessories off and simply stretch your back until it hits the bed, lying down beside changbin.

shit, shit, shit.

“i had a long day,” you start. “can we cuddle?”

“ah, uhm, sure, b-but i’m…a little sweaty and sore, yeah.” changbin fails to keep his cool.

“but we always hug even if you’re sweaty and sore.” you pout and squeeze his bicep. “we even fuck like that.”

god, if you don’t stop talking to him like this.

changbin lets out a small whine, attempting to hide his face in the pillow again. that’s when your suspicion ticks. you could feel a strong vibration against the bed and you’re not sure if it’s your boyfriend or your overheating laptop by the bedside table.

“are you sick?”

“no…”

“then what’s up?”

he looks away and that’s when you notice how watery his eyes are. his face is fully flushed, his ears are red. sweat gets his bangs sticking to his forehead. he looks like he’s quite literally heated up.

and he is. the vibrations of the machine inside his ass heats him up, which doesn’t help his already warming walls. his plush ass keeps it in and the more he involuntarily clenches, the more that he feels it whirring and hitting his insides. it almost hurts but it’s so good, and you’ve been at this for so long but he can’t blame you.

he wants to just admit it.

“are you hiding something?”

but he can’t.

“n-no…”

“binnie, you’re stuttering. you don’t look okay. is anything bothering you?”

he could cry. from the pain, from the pleasure, from the fact that you care so much about him that his heart swells as much as his sweet spot is swelling at this point. he can’t help this insane amount of love but fuck, if he could just turn it off.

but a part of him doesn’t want to.

and when you find out, you don’t either.

you yank your pillow out of changbin’s thighs and the vibrator slips out from the force.

you’ve been thinking about it since earlier: your pillow was sitting between his legs for seemingly no reason. though, you know him better than he does, and you know that’s a sign that he’s horny. he always masturbates with your pillow between his legs. you could only guess why, but your intuition serves you right as changbin stares in horror at the vibrator whirring outside of him.

for some reason, the emptiness of his ass hurts, but your reassuring smile cuts through it as he stares at your face.

“if you wanted me to help, you should’ve asked, binnie.”

[rayven81194]

WOOO RANDOM DEATH FAMILY HEADCANONS

Lmao sorry pissa and death family nation for being somewhat inactive, take these headcanons that probably don’t align with canon as compensation

THIS IS ABOUT THE CHARACTERS NOT CONTENT CREATORS BTW

Not a single person in the Death Family is warm to touch and can often be cold before bed, their houses and nests are always somehow really warm and blanket full

Missa and Phil built a small shelf in the kitchen in the house at old spawn, Missa and Chayanne have filled it with cookbooks

Tallulah knows how to make perfume and because Missa has been away for a while, Tallulah has been making perfumes for him for when he gets back

Adding onto the last one, there have been lots of ‘failed attempts’, ie Tallulah was being nit picky with the scents and trying to figure out exactly what he likes

Missa will like anything and everything given to him, so long as it’s made with love

Phil, on the other hand, will like everything and anything given to him even if it’s given with hate, because he assumes the other has a connection to it (assumes they might just like things like he does)

When Missa first left on the old spawn Phil used to make small dinners for him that wouldn’t go bad for a while just in case Missa came back when he came back

Overtime, they would get more complex and put in the fridge with a note left for him

Every single meal, regardless of what it is, will have toast cut in the shape of Phil’s had with avocado making the green stripes, and another toast cut like a skull with blueberries for the details

Chayanne used to stress bake when his parents were gone, and that improved his skills in cooking really quickly

Tallulah walks extremely quietly, Chayanne picked this up and it scares Phil every time

Despite his parents vibes and all that, Chayanne refuses to wear black sweaters specifically, shirts are on thin ice and black k shorts or pants are a coin flip, this is because he doesn’t like flour showing on them when he doesn’t want to use an apron

Tallulah used to pick at her nails when nervous, but started picking at flowers instead and now her nails hurt if she scratches you

It doesn’t matter who you are, if you become apart of the Death Family, the first thing you’re taught is how to paint your nails

When Phil doesn’t have a bookmark with him and when his wings had healed enough, he would pluck a feather out and use it as a bookmark

Either Phil or Missa doggy ears pages in a book and genuinely can’t tell who, I just think one of them does even if they have a bookmark available

There are a shit ton of keychains on Phil’s bag, you give him one, it could be of anything (besides anything fed related), it’s going on that bag

Phil sometimes wishes he could proper speak bird, I guess, this is only so he could also flirt with and compliment Missa in another language like he does

Chayanne has crocs

When Tallulah cut her hair, she asked for a photo of Missa and mimicked his hairstyle

Whenever Missa is awake/goes to sleep with Phil, the eggs silently rejoice because those two hug each other extremely closely when they sleep

Despite Missa being gone for the longest time, when Phil didn’t come back on Mexican Independence Day, he developed a fear of him leaving him, like physically being far away when he didn’t know where he is and if he was okay, he understands now what Phil feels when he’s gone

Missa, because he’s the tallest between a bird man and children, will pick them up and spin them, even if only for a bit lmao he’s not strong

Adding onto that one, whenever Phil is too excited or stress or just overwhelmed with any emotions, Missa spins him around to help and it works for some reason

Phil started to spin himself in circles when overwhelmed and when Missa was gone

After the birdhouse and when Phil was physically alone, he used to sit by a crafting table with rocks and ores and make little figures of Chayanne, Tallulah and Missa, they weren’t the best and didn’t the proportions weren’t amazing, but he spent weeks on each one and added little faces with a marker

He left the Chayanne and Tallulah statues on their respective beds, with Missa beside the flower pot, hoping they would be replaced with the real people when he woke up

They never were, but Phil put them in the window upstairs once the eggs were back

When the eggs first went missing, Phil took out some cookbooks, and every single meal that looked frequently used/visited was made, and always left out for Missa

If they weren’t eaten, Phil would eat half of it for his dinner the next day, the other half in a fridge

He actually made Missa a fridge to put all these meal in and painted it to suit his vibes

The trash cans used to always filled with sticky notes because everyday, Phil would write ‘Dinner for you’ with a silly little doodle on it for Missa if he returned while sleeping

Tallulah writes in cursive

When Missa was gone, Phil used to write his name like Misƨa (second s is backwards) and make the tops each s look like half a heart, so it made a heart in his name

Missa picked up on this and always wrote Philza instead of Phil so he could put a heart with the z and a

Im bad at explaining so this is what I mean by their names:

[kpopscruggles]

The Urge to Let Go - Anton

Genre - Smut

Word count - 3k 😭

Warnings - Mature Language, Sexual Themes, fembody, SwitchAnton, mentions of alcohol, footplay, cumplay, panty sniffing, receiving oral from both ends (in a car), anton is literally obsessed, jakesim is a vv small character, hint of cheating at the end(iguess),

Summary - Anton decides to stay alone at his family's vacation home for summer break away from college. Deciding one day too head and swim at the community pool he meets you. Holding back the filthy urges he has throughout those two days he soon has a chance to have you...he finally can't hold back the dirty things he thinks of.

He decided to go to the family vacation house instead of spending his summer with his family, and what did that get him? Nothing. Anton was already bored and if he would've gone home, he could've been bothering his brother or even his mom. An average person would just take the shit they had unpacked, repacked, and went home but Anton refused. Looking on maps he tried to find anything that could become a staple for the summer till he went back to university. Cafe? he did not want it, Greek restaurant downtown? highly uninterested, Community pool? He could go for a swim. Looked like the pool was his destination. 

Upon arrival, he paid the simple five-buck fee and walked in. He watched the lifeguards' changing spots so the recent ones could have a break he assumed. Placing his things down he peeled off his shirt before pausing, glancing a bit higher than face view he saw you, your bare back as you climbed up the ladder to sit in the signature strawberry red lifeguard chair. The sunscreen giving your skin glow, the matching red one piece you wore that showed your figure, the sunglasses you put on to hide your eyes from the sun allowed the uncomfortable look to leave your face, a simple anklet shining in the sun, and the gorgeous red that painted the most pretty feet he had ever seen. Letting out a sigh he caught himself and turned away before you could realize he was looking. 

Diving into the water, he felt a small refresh in his skin from how hot it grew under the summer sun and from how he started to blush once looking at you. Swimming around he thought it would relax him, though he could not bear but look at you again. He could feel his body growing warm again; he did not understand why you suddenly had such a strong hold on him. Was it the fact he had not found any female appealing in a while? meaning he had not gotten laid in a couple of months? Was it just the stifling air messing with him? How does the sun make you look? He had no clue. He wanted you; he knew that. 

He began questioning himself, why he was weak enough to think about you in such a way. How he wanted to taste the mix of your skin and sunscreen. Your pretty feet too just run against his now growing package, his cock. Oh god. Looking around he immediately reached for his towel and climbed out of the pool, he needed to leave if you were going to rest up there for a good while. He wished he could speak to you but had no courage to do so.  

He rushed himself to the restroom while drying his hair, he almost felt anxiety creep in as he questioned if you found him weird or seen him watching you. Getting in the opening of the pool he saw the restrooms, walking that was he noticed the cubby wall for the workers to put their belongings. Looking around he saw the concession stand was not open, so no one was in there besides him and anyone who could be in the restrooms. He felt disgusted with himself, but his cock was begging for him to do so, no. No! He was not going to do such a thing. 

"Are you wanting something from the stand?" Anton jumped only to feel his cock do the same when he turned to notice you "I noticed you've been standing here for a while". He nodded because no words could leave his lips, he took a whiff of your perfume as you walked by. The simple coconut perfume everyone uses smelt so different to you. Walking to the concession he looked around; he watched you up close now. Your breasts practically fell out of the one piece you wore. 

"Uhm just a lemonade" he muttered before hearing you chuckle then grab it for him. "Your voice is so quiet" you respond before he watches you take the two dollars from him. Oh, your voice, your giggles, he was already hooked deep. He just smiled back and took the drink, watching you close the stand then head back to the pool area he gulped, turning back to the cubby wall he lost it "Fuck this.". Walking to it he noticed the perfume...the yellow beach-themed bottle with the water-blue words "Tropical Coconut.". 

Once mumbling the words to himself, he snatched the bottle and tossed it in his towel's folds. Once wanting to walk away he then paused one last time, he wanted to take everything, but he could not bear to let himself do such a thing. Walking out he got in his car and left. His heart pumping out his chest, but his cock felt some relief that he had something of yours. The drive home was so peaceful yet the shameful pervert in Anton's head was not afraid to remind him, but it was too weak to change his mind. 

He pulled at the bit of chapped skin on his lips, his throat dry as he stared at the lemonade and then back at the perfume that sat dead center in the middle of the coffee table. His cock still begging to be touched but his brain was still too busy whirling around in circles to even think about how much ache he was in. A filthy pervert. That is what he was or at least what he was trying to call himself instead of a genius for the fact that once he smelt this perfume and stroked his cock, he would not have a care in the world. Holding the bottle now in his hands he looked at the spray nozzle, spraying it above him he took another guilty whiff. The smell now stuck in his nose, he chuckled, this was not a guilty whiff, it was a pleasurable one.  

He sprayed it everywhere, his pillows now drenched in the coconut scent, the kitchen, the hallway, everywhere! Even in the hit shower, it lingered enough for him to grow eager once again. His hands took his cock which caused a hitched sigh to leave him. He chuckled once again at how he finally was going to get relief. He was going to paint the shower walls. 

Stroking his length, he felt a tingle run down his spine, closing his eyes he let his imagination run wild "Oh baby~ that's it.". Moans after moans leaving him as his wrist allowed him to pick up the pace. His hips stuttered as he fucked his hand. "I-I'm going to cum..Shit I'm going to cum!". A whine left him with each rope of cum that left his cock. 

He thought that was the end but smelling it on his sheets could not help but go repeatedly. Loud moans echoing his room at how sensitive he got from overstimulation. Wiping the cum from his stomach he sighed "You return the perfume tomorrow then she won't know a thing.". He had to repeat this in his head before falling asleep. He was not going to let his cock rule out his mind.  

He wished doing such a thing was just as easy as speaking it, he once again faced to face with your cubby. Staring at where your stuff was yesterday, where were your things? For some reason he began to panic, he had to deeply think if he left it there would you think he took it? surely not. You'd think someone just borrowed it or lost it. Placing it in the empty cubby, he immediately turned on his heels and walked to the pool area.  

He felt a shocking pain between his legs as he bumped into someone, looking up that tingle from his dick was now satisfactory to him. It was you, I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention!". look at you, so sweet looking while panicking. Holding himself together he nodded "I-It's okay, just a simple accident" He added before looking at the tote bag that struck him. He had to hold himself together and pretend he didn't want to beg for you to do it again. 

"If you were going to the pool, they closed it because a kid got sick" you informed him causing him to nod "You could come with us though, we're going to the lake not too far from here". He couldn't lie, he was incredibly grateful for your friend and what he assumed you thought was her blabbering mouth. Seeing how you weren't too fond of this he felt bad at how needy he was for you and agreed. "Great just follow us." Fuck this was it. 

Anton was now quaking once he got in his car and followed you, he was now going to see you in your comfort and relaxation which didn't seem like much but for him, it was fucking exciting. Once you park, he notices it was a small get-together with friends, and two guys who were already there were pulling the alcohol out of their trunks. Once again though, for Anton, they weren't the main priority. You were his only goal, no matter what it was going to involve you. Getting out he followed you and introduced himself to the others. 

Immediately one person wasn't fond of him, Jake. Jake also was trying to get in your pants; Anton was far from intimidated though. If it was between him and Jake, then so be it. He wasn't going to lose when the prize was to swoon you over. "So, are you still going to be soft-spoken?" you chuckled making Anton smile "I'll try my hardest not to, hopefully, the alcohol will make me a bit louder.".  

Grabbing a beer from the cooler he saw you smile "I can make you loud if I have to" you whispered before taking a beer yourself. Anton was stuck by your words, once again he was growing warm. If only you knew how much you had affected him. Taking a huge gulp of his beer he then sat next to you "You really think so?" he smirked. "I know so.". 

The night went on and Anton could feel the tension between the two of you, the multiple beers you had before sharing a bottle was enough for him to get louder and more courageous for you. He could see on your face that you were enjoying him too. "So, do you stay around here?" the question caught him off guard a bit, Were you that curious about him? Was it a sign that you wanted to go home with him? "Yeah, I'm about ten minutes from here". 

He watched your eyes widen a little before biting your bottom lip. Fuck, you looked so sexy when you did that. "Maybe we should ditch?" his breath hitched at your words. Nodding at what you said he then got up from the picnic table and took your hand. The others were too busy drinking more that they almost didn't notice you two lefts till Anton got the view of seeing Jake pissed. Anton couldn't wipe the smirk off his face. 

"Do you live down here or just for the summer?" you asked as Anton responded with a nod "Yeah, just for the summer. My family has a vacation home down here, so I've been staying here.". He watched you nod as you listened to him, or at least he was. It wasn't until you ran your hand over his thigh "You seem like a sweet boy Anton...kind of wished I would've known you sooner." "You shouldn't let that stop you though, it's only the second day of summer and I could be yours all season if you want.". He meant that and he made it clear as he glanced at you one last time waiting for a response. 

"Yeah? You'd be my all summer? I could do what I want with you?". Anton nodded at every question that left your lips, a shiver running down his spine at your tone. The way you talked to him like a lost dog was enough to put him in shambles. That cute giggle left your lips as your hand was now placed on his growing bulge. "I don't know. You don't seem needy enough. 

Those words were enough for him to pull the car over, which caused you to glance at him like he was insane. Turning to you, he let out a shaky sigh, his eyes now glistening a little from needy tears "You don't understand how bad I want you, you don't know how much I've craved you since I watched you yesterday...I would throw all of my manhood out the door if that meant you'd touch me and treat me like your filthy mutt." This left you in slight shock and he could tell but didn't care. Taking your hand, he forced it to grip his semi-hard cock. "Please...I'll bet my life away.". 

He watched a smirk form on your lips before you leaned closer, running your lips against him he whimpered trying to lean in for a kiss. "If I knew you wanted me that bad, I would've fucked you then and there". "So, make up for it.". Now you both were in shambles once you pulled his lips in for a kiss. His cock now twitched in his swim shorts. 

Pulling away you chuckled against his lips before placing your finger at the corner of his mouth to try and wipe the lip gloss off, it being no use once he took your fingers into his mouth sucking on them while more moans left him. "I bet you love this. Knowing you're sucking the fingers that I fuck myself with." Anton immediately nodded as saliva now ran down the corner of his mouth. pulling your finger away you licked it up before pulling him back in for a kiss. Holding your leg, he brought your foot up to his clothed cock, a small whine leaving him "Please rub my cock~". The closest thing you had ever seen, you couldn't help but oblige. 

"My feet too? you must love everything about me" You chuckled only to see him nod eagerly. Using your hand to pull down his swim shorts you placed your barefoot back on his cock, the precum being smeared with each movement you made. Licking the fingers he was once sucking on you watched him lean back in the seat, brows knitted together, and fingers laced in your anklet before placing a small kiss on your knee. "I-I think I might cum.." Chuckling at his breathless moans I pulled my foot away. "Lick it up" you added showing him the precum on your foot, and he followed exactly what you asked. 

Licking up his precum he then kissed your ankle before you pulled away to crawl into the backseat. Your pussy dripping at how eager he was to follow behind you. Letting him sit you then pumped his cock "You want to cum? Hmm? You should cum down my throat. Would you like that baby?". Biting his bottom lip, he pulled you into a kiss while nodding "Mhm~ please let me cum~". You nodded before taking him into your mouth. 

"Oh shit!" a huff of air left him as you felt him run his hand down your back and slip into your bottoms. You felt his slick fingers run against your anus; he must have licked them. You couldn't help but moan around his cock once feeling him push two fingers in your tight hole. "Anton~" Oh god you were moaning for him, moaning for his fingers to fuck you. Anton was already getting fuzzyheaded at your moans let alone your warm mouth take all of him. 

His hips shuttered causing him to try and apologize but it was no use feeling the cushion of your throat against his begging tip. His stomach tightened, his breathing was uneven, his cock twitched from how much he was holding back. Anton knew he was going to cum at any moment. His eyes rolled back "D-don't move! Oh god!". the whine being the last spoken word before he filled your throat with cum and his bottom lip shivering with every breath he took.  

Pulling away he watched you swallow it before pulling him into a kiss, the taste of his cum and your salvia now sending him into overdrive. Removing his fingers he moved your bottoms to the side "Lay down...". He leaned closer to your pussy, a sigh leaving him as he felt the warm creamy substance swimming through your slit. Looking up at you he smirks before licking his finger only after smelling your sweetness. He was going to devour you finally. 

A gasp left' you once you felt his warm tongue against your clit, his soft eyes looking up at you while doing such sinful acts. He wanted you to know that he was here to please you and that anything you wanted he would easily do. Your fingers ran through his dark hair, tugging with each quick lap of his tongue. "Just like that... you're doing s-so good..." you sighed watching the windows fog as you tilted your head back feeling his tongue swirl around your clit. You felt a sigh leave him which only made you shiver due to his warm breath running up your soaked slit.  

"Please cum on my tongue, please, please~" you couldn't hold back much longer hearing his begs for your release, gripping his hair tighter and practically pulling on it you felt your stomach drop and your release rush from you. You could hear every whimper, whine, and slurp from Anton as he licked you clean. Gasping you slowly began catching your breath as you watched him lick his lips clean with a smile "Feel good?". The confidence on his face only made you drip more as you nodded. "Best I've had" Now this had Anton blushing extremely.  

----- 

The summer went by in a flash, Anton was growing eager to come down to his last week and still not being able to be inside your pussy. He'd text you every night praising you more than any man has ever done, but when Anton came to the pool there was just no courage to speak to him. You could easily say the alcohol helped by getting you both comfortable but at the same time drifted you apart once the alcohol was sucked up and put behind the two of you. You could tell it was killing him inside when you acted like what happened didn't at all. He wasn't going to stand for it. 

Waiting for you to close the pool for the day you turned to see him leaning against his car, trying to walk past him you failed as he stepped in front of you "Did I do something wrong? I didn't push you, did I?". You didn't answer and just looked at your feet before backing up at him "That's not it at all I just...It's an awkward situation at the moment.". "How is it awkward? We had oral sex, exchanged numbers, and still text like normal," Anton added while following you to your car, it was no use as he watched you just start the engine and drive off. He was fuming, he felt like he just wasted his time. Getting in his car he went back to his place. 

The rest of the week he was packing his things and pulling his hair out at the fact that he didn't know what went wrong. He also expected that once he tasted you that would be it but no, it was far from finished on his end. Putting the last few things in his bag he knew he was going to see you again; he could feel it. It was a gut feeling he knew he couldn't run away from. He wasn't going to run away either. 

Putting the last shirt away in his suitcase we looked at the swimsuit bottoms you had worn, he washed them and kept them for himself because you agreed he could. Taking them in his hold he sighed before smelling your scent on them still, he chuckled at how mind-boggling it was that was still possible. "I'll never get over your smell". Whispering those few words to himself he then zipped his bag up. Leaving the house he began his drive back to campus. 

Arriving, he was getting a new dormmate, not that it mattered, but he was intrigued. "You are again.", Anton turned to see Jake bringing his things in, rolling his eyes at Jake he went back to unpacking "Awe are you hurt that she left you behind?". Anton turned to him "She didn't leave me behind". Jake chuckled "But she did, Anton hates to spill the news so quickly but she came back with me...She's mine. Anton chuckled "Just because she came back with you doesn't mean she's yours.". 

Anton had no care what Jake had to say because as Jake was blabbering, he got a text from you. A text that made it truly clear who you wanted, and it was him. Anton knew you'd miss him too much just like he missed you. Jake may think he won but like Anton kept telling himself...When it came to you, he was always going to win. 

I'm in town, you should come by my roommate's place, she's gone. 

[diariesofthelover]

I Put A Spell On You

synopsis: On one of his rare nights off, Dick Grayson decides to check out the bustling, newly reopened underground jazz club in Blüdhaven where he meets a woman that he can’t resist, losing all control of himself.

notes: 18+, Dick Grayson x reader, 3rd person pov, inspired by middle painting & Nina Simone’s “I Put A Spell On You”, put on some jazz while you read💋

Dick didn’t know why he chose to go to a jazz club on his first night off from Nightwing duties in weeks, all he knew was that he had put on his nicest navy silk button up, black dress pants that barely went over his ass, and a black blazer gifted to him by Bruce, all worn with the intention of spending a night at Blüdhaven’s favorite new spot, The Siren’s Den.

There’s been a lot of talk in the city about the former speakeasy. The music was great, hell it was exceptional, the food and drinks were ambrosial, and the singers, the best part, were enchanting.

All of the above were correct. Even though this wasn’t his usual scene, Dick was enjoying himself. The Siren’s Den had the best music, the best food, the best drinks, and by far the best singers he’d ever heard. The space was lit up by soft red lights with one warm spotlight on the stage leaving the table and bar areas pretty dim but light enough to see. Overall, the atmosphere felt sexy and mysterious, and due to the popularity of the place, it was packed this Saturday night.

He’d been sitting at the bar for about half an hour now enjoying the music and the booze when he spotted her. There she was, a woman around his age sitting all alone at a table with a drink in her hand just like him. She had on a silk navy dress that flattered her breathtaking figure, matching perfectly with his button up. One of her straps was teasingly sliding off her shoulder, hair pushed away to the other side leaving the soft skin exposed.

Dick Grayson had seen, and been with, many gorgeous women in his life, but this one felt different. She was tantalizing, swaying to the jazz songs so sensually evoking a familiar feeling deep inside him.

“How could a woman like her be sitting all by herself?” He thought, “How could no one have approached her by now, tried to win her affection? Has she rejected every man who has tried already, god am I about to make a fool of myself?” But when has shame, humiliation, or rejection ever stopped the Boy Wonder, don’t answer that.

With a little more liquid courage, he confidently makes his way over to her without any idea of what he’s gonna say or do when he comes face to face with the beauty.

“Hi,” Dick greets her taking her attention away from the band to him, “Dick Grayson.”

She slowly tilts her head to the side inquisitively, curious as to what he was going to say next. Silence was the only thing to follow his introduction as he himself had nothing prepared making her lips curl up into a small smirk.

“Hi, Dick Grayson,” she broke the silence.

“Hi,” he said again breathlessly, “seat beside you taken?”

“Nope,” she said sweetly paired with an angelic smile that he returned.

“Mind if I join you?”

She didn’t say anything, instead she slowly shifted her herself over making room for him. Without hesitation, Dick relaxes next to her, not using the extra space she gave him resulting in their thighs almost touching. He took off his blazer feeling his body temperature already rising, he already wished to rip off both their clothes and take her right here in this booth, he’s never felt this aroused by a stranger before.

She shifts her attention back onto the performance in an attempt to hide her already rosy cheeks, but Dick was feeling needy and selfish, wanting the beauty’s eyes and ears on him, not the musicians. He gently placed his strong hand under her jaw, slowly moving her head to look at him again, smiling when he does. He had a beautiful smile, the kind that made you smile without even realizing it, even if you tried your best not to.

“How does a beautiful angel like you come here by yourself?”

“Maybe I just enjoy quality time with myself, and you’re interrupting my night,” she giggled sweetly causing Dick’s smile to grow wider.

Dick chuckles, “Interrupting huh,” he leaned in closer, their noses now only an inch apart and thighs touching, “you did after all let me join you, I must be something special for you to let me in like that.” Dick’s always been a forward and bold man but this time around it was different, the place’s erotic energy, the booze, and this gorgeous being in front of him quickly made him crazily hot and bothered.

She felt nervous, knowing that he can read her like a book, knowing that he can tell how attracted she was to him, it was written and painted all over her pretty face. He brushed a lose strand of hair from her face, then dragging his hand down her rosy cheek to caress her, keeping his blue eyes locked on hers. Those pretty blue eyes, she was getting completely lost in them.

“You’re the most beautiful thing my eyes have ever been blessed with,” he softly admits, warm hand still placed on her burning cheek. He made her feel like a little kid talking to a stranger for the first time, like a teenage girl walking past her hallway crush, she was a nervous wreck with him in the best way possible.

“What’s a charming man like you doing single?”

“Looking for a woman like you,” he moved his hand down to her exposed neck, every part of her body was burning up, same with his. His eyes trailed down to her mouth, leaning in closer, brushing his pink lips against her soft ones colored in red from her expensive lipstick.

“Please let me kiss you, I don’t think I can wait a minute more,” he breathed out, looking into her eyes again for approval.

“It’s only been a few minutes,” she teased.

“Please,” he asked again, even more desperately than the last time.

The second she gave him a nod of approval, he pressed his lips to hers, slowly savoring each moment and movement. They hungrily continued kissing each other, like it was the last time they would share this moment together, growing more and more hot with each exchange. Sloppy lipstick stains were marked on Dick’s mouth, claiming him as hers for the night, the sight was salacious. Yes, the place was packed, no, they didn’t care, all they cared about was having each other.

Dick started shifting his lips down her jaw, causing her to lean her head back, hoping he’d soon reach her neck, “That where you want me doll?” She nodded to his suggestive question, “Tell me, tell me how you want me to kiss your neck, tell me how bad you want me to mark you up.”

“Please, Dick,” was all she could muster. Dick didn’t have the patience within him to tease her, he needed to ravage every bit of her, now.

“Anything for you, pretty girl,” He finally connects his lips to her pulsing neck, taking in her sweet scent. He starts drawing purple marks on her neck, licking the spot over once done with his work, earning a sweet sigh from his girl. While continuing his painting on her neck, one hand started to make its way down her body, rubbing up and down the sides of her glorious frame, the other holding the nape of her neck, his long fingers caressing her hair.

She reaches her hands out to feel him up that way he was touching her, one hand in his soft wavy black hair, pulling him closer where she needs him, the other traveling across his muscular thigh.

Dick pulls one of her legs onto his lap, spreading them slightly. He finishes his piece on her neck and focuses back on her eyes again, not wanting to miss a single reaction of hers. He keeps one hand on the base of her neck, the other one now moved down to her spread thighs, rubbing up and down. He watches her closely, seeing how far she’d let him take this in a public setting.

She moves a hand to rest atop his much larger one, guiding him higher up where she’s waiting for him. Once his hand reached the small space between her inner thigh and lacy panties, she pulled herself off, letting him take control.

He rested his calloused hand over her clothed heat, teasingly rubbing small circles in the perfect spot, “Dirty, dirty girl. You want me to please you in front of all these people?” Even if anyone was looking at them, they didn’t care. Their desire for each other was uncontrollable, their bodies felt like they were on fire. The music felt like it was getting louder, the lights more red and the conversations around them more lively.

“Yes,” she breathed out, “Yes, please.”

Her sweet pleads and lustful look was all Dick needed to slip his hand into the fabric she called underwear. He pressed his lips to hers, suppressing any moans she’d make while his he used her slickness to rub her where she craved him and prep himself for her entrance. She moved one of her hands to his shirt, unbuttoning him a bit for her and feeling his toned chest, her arousal growing stronger.

Tell me how much you need this, tell me how much you need me,” he moved his lips to her ear, demanding her response to his risqué request.

She needed him more than air right now. She felt so empty without him, like Dick Grayson was the only man who could ever fill her void, the only man who could sate her hunger. She couldn’t verbalize how eager she was for him, letting her body tell him instead.

She trailed her hand up to his crotch, feeling Dick grow with each movement and sound she made. He was straining against his slacks, desperately trying to free himself, but he wanted to hear her unravel for him first.

Dick quickly slipped in his finger with ease causing her to gasp and bury her head in his neck, “Don’t by shy baby, want everyone to hear how I was the lucky guy to get this pretty pussy tonight,” shamelessly adding another finger in her needy hole that was molding around his long fingers, welcoming him in, hoping he’d never leave. She felt whole with him, he was filling her up so well, making her feel euphoric.

The crude wet sounds of Dick pumping himself into her and her gentle moans were drowned out by the band and crowd getting louder. His curved fingers brushing her sweet spot, thumb rubbing fast circles on her clit, his other hand now pulling her straps further down in an attempt to get more of her, his dirty dirty mouth, “You like this? Like me fucking fingering you in front of all these people yea? You’re a sin,” was enough for her to want to release already.

“Wait, Dick–mm, not here,” she hesitantly pulled herself off of him, “need you all, come with me,” Dick helped her stand up, letting her take him anywhere as long as he had her. Her hair and dress were disheveled, his blazer thrown over his shoulder, button up not even buttoned, bulge very prominent, begging to be inside her, and both their faces red with desire.

With that, the two walked out of the club, hands still all over each other, not even bothering to adjust themselves, to continue their night, consuming each other so they will never forget their night at The Siren’s Den.

[eyesfullofsttars]

☆ can we always be this close forever and ever?

synopsis: since abby and ellie moved in together, abs has been having trouble sleeping next to her girlfriend. so, one night she decides to stay awake to figure out the problem...

notes: hey!!! this is so silly and short, i'm not completely convinced, but i hope you like it even though it's simple

warnings: none, i think... just fluff!!!

The experience Abby initially endured when sharing a bed with Ellie was challenging. Though it may sound harsh, it was an unexpected issue at the start of their relationship.

At first, Abby thought the problem lay in the bed. She would wake up each morning with unusual back pain, but she dismissed the idea after flipping the mattress three times without seeing any improvement. She even bought a new mattress, but the pain persisted.

When the pain didn't subside, another issue arose: Abby often woke up in the middle of the night without a clear reason, finding Ellie sleeping far from her, mumbling nonsense and seemingly possessed.

Before calling an exorcist to alert them that her girlfriend was possessed by a night demon, Abby decided to talk to Ellie. She looked puzzled and denied everything, stating that she didn't talk, move, or do anything unusual while sleeping.

For a few days, Abby thought she might be the problem. However, her pride rejected that notion, so she decided to stay awake one night to observe Ellie while she slept, looking for any irregularities.

The evening started with Abby wishing her girlfriend goodnight, receiving a kiss on the cheek in return as Ellie nestled close, resting her head on Abby's chest.

Less than thirty minutes passed before Ellie fell into a deep sleep and then disrupted her peaceful slumber. Her relaxed expression turned into a furrowed brow, and she began tossing and pushing Abby away while continuously mumbling.

With some fear of being kicked by Ellie (which explained her pains), Abby decided to move away, sitting up in bed and giving her space. Ellie rested at the other end of the bed, unable to stop murmuring in her sleep.

Abs remained silent, focused on Ellie’s facial expressions, which showed neither dreamy relaxation nor peace but rather fear and distress. Abby quickly realized her girlfriend was having a nightmare and didn’t hesitate to interrupt.

"Babe," Abby whispered softly, carefully approaching Ellie and gently shaking her shoulder. "You're having a nightmare, Els. Wake up..."

Just a few gentle movements on her shoulder were enough for Ellie to wake up, her green eyes wide with fear. She sat up quickly, placing her hand over her chest as if scared her heart might escape.

"Fuck." That was the only thing that came from Ellie's lips as she tried to regulate her breathing while Abby gently stroked her back up and down. "Did I wake you?"

"No, no," Abby replied immediately, slowly shaking her head to assure Ellie that everything was fine. "Do you feel better? It must have been a terrible nightmare."

"No, not really. I've had the same nightmares since I was a child," Ellie murmured, as if being so disturbed during sleep was her normal reality instead of a peaceful dream.

"Would you like to talk about it? Your nightmares..." Abby proposed, seeking a possible solution to ease Ellie's mind. "Maybe that would help you rest better."

"No fucking way," Ellie responded quickly, firmly shaking her head and leaving no room for further suggestions. "I know they're not real, but I can't escape them."

"What can I do to help you? You don't want to discuss this with me, so..." Abby said, trying to assist her girlfriend in solving her sleep problems, even if Ellie didn't want to share her nightmares with her.

"I don't know, wake me up?" Ellie offered that solution with a frown, unsure of how to handle her nightmares. "Hold me close so I don't move around? Can you do that with your strong arms?"

Abby let out a small laugh at Ellie's comment, who smiled lightly at hearing her girlfriend's chuckle.

"Maybe if I hold you, you'll feel safer and the nightmares will seem less real," Abby replied, considering Ellie's suggestion.

"Just hold me if you see me getting worked up, and if it's too much, wake me up," Ellie agreed, moving a bit closer to Abby in bed.

"Your solution is just an excuse to sleep curled up next to me, Williams," Abby quipped playfully, rolling her eyes and taking advantage of the new closeness to kiss Ellie's cheek. "You really are obsessed with me, aren't you?"

"Oh no, you've discovered my terrible secret," Ellie responded, following Abby's teasing with an exaggerated sigh. "I've been faking nightmares to be the clingiest girlfriend. Now you can't escape."

"What a shame you have to resort to this for some affection," Abby joked without hesitation. "Aren't you embarrassed to take advantage of my kindness?"

Suddenly, the sweet cheek kisses Abby gave Ellie became less innocent as she trailed down to her jaw and neck.

"You can't deny my plan worked," Ellie said, shrugging and giggling at Abby's comment and the tingling sensations from the neck kisses.

It could be said with certainty that, after weeks of discomfort, sharing a bed with Ellie finally became a dream for Abby.

In the end, before going to sleep, after wishing each other goodnight and saying "I love you," Ellie would snuggle into Abby's chest, while Abs wrapped her arm around her, pulling her closer.

They simply lay down each night under the dinosaur-themed sheets of the bed, embracing each other, regardless of the weather, seeking comfort in each other's arms and sleeping soundly with dreams instead of nightmares.

And perhaps one night, Abby will wake her, and in the darkness, Ellie might begin to whisper her nightmares without any fear of sharing those terrible dreams about her past that continue to haunt her. By becoming vulnerable in front of Abby, who devotedly seeks nothing more than to comfort and and help ease her nightmares.

[sapphos-ode]

Little Cat

Part 13

Larissa Weems part 12 | part 14 | ao3

Massive thank you to @h-doodles for letting me hurl ideas at her and helping me actually figure out what to write for this part!

Again apologies for the gap between updates. I hope you enjoy this one x (9.2k words)

CW - alcohol consumption is mentioned, and it gets a bit suggestive near the end I think that’s all I need to say?

~

A sharp prickly sensation comes over you and your body feels as if it’s been filled with lead. Your limbs are like dead weight and you’re thankful for being seated. Otherwise you’re sure you’d have fallen to your knees. You create space between your bodies and look into Larissa’s eyes with a thousand yard stare, as your brain replays her answer.

You feel an onslaught of despair in your chest, you feel like a fool. For reading the signs wrong, for thinking she’d ever be interested in you. For falling for her. And you’re terrified for what that means for your friendship, had you ruined it or could you salvage it? You desperately hoped you could. You know, deep down inside, that you couldn’t cope not having Larissa in your life. You weren't a greedy soul, if you couldn’t have her as a partner - to call yours and yours only, then as a friend, hell even as an acquaintance would do.

A third emotion wriggles itself into your body, guilt. But it’s not yours for your heart to bear.

“I shouldn’t have allowed this to go so far,” her tone is clipped as she holds her head high.

Nausea overcomes you and the world seems hazy.

“It’s highly inappropriate,” Larissa begins talking again with a dismissive wave of her hand, twisting the knife in the wound, “you best not let your feelings affect our working relationship,” she’s inwardly taken aback at how impartial she sounds. You begin to piece together the source of her guilty conscience.

You let out a harsh laugh. It’s short and more of a strong exhale from your nose than it is a laugh. “You can’t really mean that, my feelings are a game for you-?���

“Don’t put words into my mouth Miss. Karnstein,” there’s a bite behind it. Laced with warning

“It’s hardly putting words in your mouth when it’s what you’ve just insinuated!” You don’t mean to shout at her.

“Watch your tone,” her voice is a controlled hushed whisper, and you wished she was yelling at you instead.

You have a scathing remark ready on the tip of your tongue but you value your job so you keep your mouth shut. Instead you draw into yourself and hug your knees to your chest, casting your gaze out onto the landscape before you. The strained silence between you lasts a while and neither of you make to move or speak.

After what could’ve been minutes or hours, it doesn’t matter much to you right now, you speak with a broken voice. It’s a shadow of a breath but Larissa heard every word you say, “I think you should head back.”

“It is getting horribly cold…”

Larissa stands and in your peripheral you can see her offer a hand to you. The nerve of that woman.

“I’m going to stay out for a bit longer.”

“It’s getting dark,”

Larissa really didn’t want you to be navigating the woods during nightfall on your own. Especially on your own. She’d be much happier if you came back to Nevermore with her - that way she’d know you were safe and sound. Right now it was dusk and only just light enough to see.

“I know,” you keep your response short.

“Atikah…” the woman presses with an urgency.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. You sit still, begging her to just leave you alone. She eyes you warily, committing to memory the way your jaw tightens and the muscles in your neck quiver and flex as you fight the frown that desperately wants to twist your lips. Even with anger bubbling under your surface, she still finds you enchanting, wanting to trail her fingers along your jawline and hold you to her chest. To take back her words and admit that she longs for you in every waking moment and in every moment she sleeps too, that she needs your soul intertwined with her own, every second she goes without it ails her.

The blonde takes a sudden breath in, your head turns just a fraction and she sees the waning flicker of hope in the corner of your eye. But her voice withers away in her throat when she tries to tell you that you weren't a mere pastime for her. Your eyes narrow at her and you look back out to the sea of treetops. Your hair falling over your face banishing the woman from your sight.

Larissa’s hand falls back to her side and she turns heel, leaving silently, save for the sound of leaves crunching under her feet

~

The moon sits proud in the sky, the brilliant white of its surface glowing against the deep velvet ultramarine of the night. Clusters of stars littered the canvas of the sky and they remind you of a moment in time, not too long ago, when you saw them in the eyes of another. You perish the thought quickly when you feel tears build up again.

The tracks of tears cried earlier have long since dried upon your face, leaving an uncomfy tautness. The cold air stings and the tips of your fingers are numb.

The vibrations of your phone breaks the morose trance you had fallen into as you stew in your mind. You don’t remove it from your pocket, yet. Instead you choose to stand slowly, your knees clicking and your muscles crying out from their stiffness. The air is cold and it nips at any exposed skin.

The caller ID reads ‘Alice’, your eyes flit up to the top corner to read the time. Hours have passed and you resign yourself to the fact that you need to return to Nevermore. You decline the call and turn on the phone torch, it’s bleach white light illuminating the forest floor.

~

The second the Principal reached her office, the warmth of the school a welcome change from the chilled air, she had sat down at her desk and immediately buried herself with email after email, accepting meeting requests left right and centre. She wanted to open a bottle of wine and down it in one fell swoop but it wouldn’t keep her mind busy and off of you.

The whole time a grotesque lump formed in her throat, and a malevolent pit grew in her stomach. Had she just messed up one of the best things to ever happen to her? Probably. But it just went to show that love was not made for her. And the universe, ever cruel, had given her someone she couldn’t have. Someone who’s hand fits so perfectly in her own. Someone who gave her their full attention, and never made her feel like a second choice. Someone who had chosen her. All she wanted was to be wanted. And she had said no.

Larissa isn’t sure when her hands left her keyboard and held her head as she sobbed without abandon. The kind of sobs that shake your whole body, where you can’t support yourself and you struggle to draw air because you just keep crying out. The kind where slowly your head falls from your hands, and rests on the desk because you’re so spent it’s impossible to keep your head up.

Larissa Weems sits at her desk. Heartbroken over a woman she could have had. If only she wasn’t so scared.

~

Thursday is a bleak day. Well, it’s not. But you don’t feel present in your own body, you go through the motions. Your enthusiasm as you teach classes empty - your break is spent in your classroom. And so is your lunch. About halfway through Alice pokes her head in.

“Hey?”

You startle, clumsily wiping your eyes with your sleeve and sniffling. You muster up a smile.

“What’s up?” You sound too cheerful.

“Nothin’, just it’s not like you to not come to the lounge for lunch. What’s wrong?”

Alice knows already, she can just tell. If last night had gone well she’d have known all about it by now. She’d be sick of it from how much you would have talked and gushed over Principal Weems. Your silence worries her.

You take a steadying breath before slumping in your seat. Absentmindedly fidgeting with a pen on your desk.

“I… told her, that I like her and- ” you swallow thickly, “Alice she saw it as a game,” your voice breaks and cracks.

You look up at Alice and she’s at your side in an instant holding you. You bury your face into her shoulder and cry for the umpteenth time that day. All the while Alice runs a hand over your back and holds you close.

“It’s- it’s so s-stupid!” Your voice is dampened as you talk into Alice, it’s also riddled with high pitched hiccups, “I’m- I didn’t date her! And I’m crying as- as if we broke up!”

“You guys looked like you had something going on, it’s not stupid,” Alice defends your own feelings for you.

“I thought so too! But we were just friends, and- like I’ve been rejected before. But this- this really fucking hurts!”

“Rejection always hurts,”

“No! I- you don’t get it, I didn’t feel this bad when I ended things with my ex! We were together for three years!” You sit back to look at Alice, holding her shoulders, “Alice! Three years and I was less sad than I am now! It doesn’t make sense- I’m being dramatic!”

“Whoa, you’re not dramatic! You just felt a really strong connection. Right?”

“Yeah…” you pout not unlike a small child.

“And she… you know, didn’t take it seriously… it hurts, so just let yourself feel,” Alice continues to placate you, “take your own damn advice,”

“If she just said she didn’t return the feelings… that would’ve been fine. I’d have accepted that and respected her space. But what she said made me feel like a fool…”

Alice debates if she should ask what Larissa’s answer was but you offer that information up freely.

“Oh…”

“I hate feelings,” you mutter.

“They suck, yeah…” Alice strokes your hair in a bid to comfort you, “You know what?”

“What?”

“We should hit Burlington on Saturday. Have a girl’s night out, just us.”

You ponder the idea, you have no plans for the weekend and another’s warmth would probably help soothe the wound, “Sounds good to me…”

The rest of lunch is spent with Alice squished next to you on your chair in silence as you calm yourself enough for your next class.

~

Marilyn wanders the halls of Nevermore, they’re quiet given the school day has ended. Normally she’d feel bad about approaching someone after work but she was off to see Larissa, who without a doubt would still be working dutifully.

She knocks on the heavy oak door and waits to be called in. But she receives no answer. Any other teacher would leave and come back another time, but this was Marilyn. She also happened to be somewhat friends with Larissa. So she knocks once more, again unanswered. She still opens the door and pops her head in to find Larissa sitting in her desk chair at the window. Something outside has her attention, so much so that the blonde doesn’t register the soft hello.

Marilyn enters the room and closes the door quietly before padding over. Not wanting to startle the Principal. However her attempt was in vain because when she stopped next to Larissa, just at her shoulder the woman practically threw herself out her chair with a scream.

“Marilyn!?”

“I’m sorry!” The redhead was in turn scared by Larissa’s outcry. Her hand shooting to her chest as she bent over and began to laugh.

Overcoming her initial shock Larissa shares a light chuckle, bowing her head as she calms her breathing.

“I didn’t hear you come in, sorry,” as she speaks she looks back out to the window subconsciously.

Marilyn takes a few steps forward, curious as to what has the Principal so interested. Her honeyed brown eyes fall on you, crouched down on your balcony tending to your plants. She gives a knowing look to Larissa and nudges her with her shoulder.

“She’s a real catch, you know,” accompanied with a smirk.

“She is…” Larissa says with a sigh.

“You complement each other well,”

This does the trick in stealing Larissa’s attention. She looks at Marilyn wide eyed but is quick to school her features and offers a strained smile, sidestepping the comment, “How can I help?”

“Oh, just some Rave’N planning- why are you wearing a scarf?”

Larissa’s hand comes up to her neck, resting on the soft fabric of your scarf. She’s too embarrassed to admit that she liked wearing it. It was a little piece of you, and probably the only part of you she’d have from now on. She had zero intentions of returning it.

“I’m cold?” She answers dumbly.

“But you have the fire going? And it’s roasting in here?”

“I… just need the extra warmth,”

“Okay.” Marilyn’s not convinced, but doesn’t press any further, “Anyways, a few weeks back I was spitballing theme ideas, and I suggested a masquerade?”

Larissa nodded along.

“Well, a masquerade ball theme on its own is rather boring, especially with how creative last year’s one was, if I do say so myself,” Marilyn puffs her chest out. She was really proud of the Climate Crisis Meets Extinction Effect theme. “I want to add a twist though, but I keep drawing blanks. Alice- sorry. Miss. Hansen hasn’t been much help. I was hoping to pick your brain!”

The blonde raises a perfect brow at the botanist’s slip up, since when did they get close?

“Larissa?”

She must have lost herself in thought.

The blonde’s eyes refocus and she apologises before trying to think of ideas. Instead she ends up wondering if you’d be attending, she had yet to pin the sign up sheet for chaperoning to the notice board in the lounge. As if you were a magnet, Larissa’s head turns back to the window where you still prune your plants. She swallows and presses her lips into a pained frown.

“Larissa?” Marilyn’s tone is soft as she leans to the side to get a better look of Larissa’s face. She takes note of how the woman’s eyes take on a watery sheen. “Did something happen between you two? Now that I think about it Alice did mention Atikah has dropped off the radar a little since last night… Wait, didn’t you guys go on a date to see the sunset?”

The Principal clams up at her friend’s words. She’d forgotten that Marilyn had thought the pair of you were seeing each other. Her instinct is to divert the conversation topic but she knew despite Marilyn’s airhead tendencies, she was very perceptive to others’ feelings. If she didn’t know Marilyn was a normie she’d have believed she was an empath.

“Yes…” Larissa answers weakly to both questions, unable to meet Marilyn’s gaze.

She looks at a point high up on the wall just behind Marilyn, her neck strains as she holds her head high and fights off the tears welling in her eyes. It’s one thing to open up to her friend, another to cry in front of her. Larissa was too prideful for that. Or maybe she thought she wasn’t allowed to show weakness in front of someone else. After all she ran the school, she was the one who had to keep it together so that everything ran smoothly. Right?

“Do you… do you want to talk about it?”

The blonde nods slowly, silently building the strength to outwardly voice her feelings. In doing so a few tears trickle down her cheeks, following the contours of her face and falling into the corner of her mouth. She can taste the salt.

“Oh Larissa,” Marilyn places a hand on her shoulder and is met with no resistance when she guides Larissa to the couch in front of the fire.

The botany teacher angles her body to face Larissa, who has more tears streaming down her face whilst she maintains a stoic expression, but her lip quivers despite her efforts.

“What happened?”

“I… rejected her.” Larissa furiously wiped her tears away and by sheer will power stops any more from falling.

“What? You guys broke up?”

Larissa falls against the backrest of the settee, losing all proprietary as she lets herself slide down, “We- I guess it was a date last night, oh I don’t know! But she confessed.” Larissa makes meaningless gestures with her hands as she figures out her next words. Staring up at the ceiling.

Marilyn remains quiet, letting Larissa have space to collect her thoughts. She’s quick to join the dots and realised that you guys weren’t an item as she had believed.

“She likes- liked me back, and I told her no. Gods Marilyn, I wanted to say yes!”

“Why didn’t you?” The woman speaks tentatively.

“I can’t be with her… it isn’t fair on her,” Larissa shoots back, as if it was common sense to reject your crush’s confession.

“But how so?”

“How so? I’m what? Twenty plus years older than her, I’m her boss,” Larissa shrugs mostly to herself, “I have too much baggage, and I’m insecure.”

“You? Insecure?” Marilyn exclaims incredulously, “You’re a force to be reckoned with, and a very self-assured woman!”

“Yes, as Principal Weems, not as Larissa,” she groans in frustration.

“Got you, sorry.” Marilyn twiddles her thumbs in her lap. “Did you give her a choice?”

Larissa lifts her head, looking bewildered at Marilyn.

“Like, did you tell her what you just told me?”

“No…” Larissa speaks carefully. Unsure of what Marilyn was meaning.

“She’s young, yeah, but surely she deserves to be given a choice, you know. I mean, Alice and I have started dating but she’s still discovering her sexuality,” At this Larissa sat up, hooked on every syllable falling from Marilyn’s mouth, “she’s not sure if she’s just experimenting and all that. But she did tell me so I could choose if I wanted to be with her, even if she later finds out that she doesn’t like women after all… I guess that’s similar to your situation,”

The blonde slumps her shoulders and holds her face in her hands, elbows resting on her knees. “I’ve fucked this, haven’t I?” Her voice is muffled.

“Yeah, you kinda have,” Marilyn says it as it is, whilst rubbing Larissa’s back in an attempt to sooth her.

A new wave of tears fall from Larissa’s eyes, wetting her palms as she lets her body rock with each sob.

“Oh Larissa,” Marilyn shuffles closer and pulls the woman into a hug. In the back of Larissa’s mind she tries to think of when she was last held by a friend, excluding you. You were the exception in her life.

“You can always talk to her, it’s not like her feelings suddenly vanished when you rejected her,” Marilyn maintains a hopeful note to her voice. She thought you two were adorable together and she really wanted the both of you to be happy.

~

You managed your Friday classes better than yesterday but you opted to eat lunch in your classroom again, a few students wanting a quiet space to get some extra studying done kept you company. You saved your self wallowing for later and offered help whenever they asked.

Your evening is spent with a carton of ice cream and a binge watch of Brooklyn 99, it was the perfect series - light hearted but with its meaningful moments, and didn’t require your full attention.

The finished ice cream sat on your bedside table, your laptop still sat open on your covers with Netflix asking if you were still watching. You were not. You had fallen asleep to the soothing sound of Captain Holt furiously yelling ‘bone’.

As you embark on a fitful slumber, Bärchen slips into your room, thinking you were still up given your lamp was turned on. Basking the room in a warm light.

She takes a second to survey the scene before her, taking a risk she shifts back into Larissa. Carefully she leans over you and closes your laptop, depositing it on your nightstand, it was less cluttered than usual. Your notebook hangs off the edge, with a pen laid across the open page. There’s more entries since she last saw it. Her name makes two new appearances, one from the Harvest Festival, ‘love and fondness’ penned next to it, the second is dated from the night she watched the sunset with you, all you’ve written is ‘guilt’. Questions burn in her brain and she wishes she could ask you what it meant, with a cautious glance to your sleeping from she flicks back a page to the one where she first saw her name alongside a handful of students’ names as well.

‘Larissa - nerves, anxiety, love?’

The question mark had been penned over and turned into a thick exclamation mark, she can tell you had pressed hard with the pen as the strokes left an indent on the paper, the word ‘love’ was now underlined. She recalls that day, when you had almost kissed her… until Enid had interrupted.

You toss in your sleep, breaking Larissa’s pondering. She stays stock still, heart racing. Praying you don’t wake up. Alas you just turn over, now facing her still fast alseep. She catches you shivering and instinctively pulls your covers up, tucking you in. She moves back but the sight of your troubled face tugs at her heartstrings. The blonde leans down and presses a featherlight kiss to your forehead, and brushes her thumb over your cheek a few times with airy strokes. Your face relaxes and your body releases the tension it held.

“I’m so sorry,” her whisper is shaky and hangs heavily in the air.

Larissa allows herself a few more seconds to admire you before she turns your lamp off and takes on the form of Bärchen. Leaving silently through the window.

~

Alice sits perched on a stool as she watches Marilyn flutter around her myriad of plants in the greenhouse, the wolfsbane had been moved and locked into the other room, safely away from the lycan.

The history teacher had discarded her jacket on a desk, even in Autumn the greenhouse was humid and warm. A Ricky Montgomery song plays quietly in the background, and Marilyn hums along to it, engrossed with her plant babies. Alice can’t help but dote on the redhead, she looked so cute in her blue jumpsuit.

“I can feel your staring pet,” Marilyn teases as she looks over her shoulder at Alice who sports a lovesick expression.

“Can’t help it,” she shrugs with a lopsided grin.

Marilyn places the watering can down and skips over to the lycan, her arms wrapping around the younger woman. “What are your plans for tonight?”

“Today’s Saturday, right?” Alice asks, as she leans into the embrace, Marilyn nods, “Hitting a bar with Atikah, in Burlington,”

“Better send me a fit check, is that what you call it these days?”

Alice snorts much to her mortification, a hand slapping over her face as it turns red, “Y-yes, that is what it’s called. And I will, or- ” she drags out the last word.

“Or…?” Marilyn mirrors her tone. Raising a brow that disappears behind her thick fringe.

“Or you can join us, that way you can have a ‘fit check’ in real life,”

“Oh I couldn’t, I wouldn’t want to gatecrash- ”

“Nonsense! Atikah would love it if you came!” The werewolf cuts her off.

Alice had told you about the latest development between herself and Marilyn. And you had been ecstatic about it, momentarily forgetting your own miserable love life.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive, I promise- Oh! I told her about us by the way, is that alright?” Alice holds her breath.

“She’s your closest friend, I’d be worried if you hadn’t told her,” Marilyn shakes her head in mirth before stealing a peck on the lips.

“Okay cool! Also, I haven’t told her yet but I’m gonna wingman for her, try get her a hot girly!”

“Oh? Is that so?” Marilyn has a wary look on her face. This wasn’t good news to hear.

“Yeah… why would it not be?” Alice pouts her lips as her brows draw together, “You know something, don’t you?”

“No!”

“You do so! Spill!” Alice presses.

“I told you, I don’t know anything about anything!” Marilyn throws her hands up in a sign of peace.

“Hmm, whatever you say but Atikah needs it…” Alice shrugs, “Also. You are such a bad liar!” She lunges for Marilyn’s waist with wiggling fingers. Procuring peals of giggles as the woman fruitlessly attempts to wriggle out her grasp. The redhead regrets ever having told Alice she was ticklish.

~

Alice sits in her classroom, catching up on some marking. She had handed out a surprise pop quiz on Friday much to the chagrin of her students. And stupidly had promised it would be graded and turned back to them for Monday.

Reading similar answers over and over was doing her head in. She was almost finished banging her head against the desk in misery when she remembered she had meant to send you a message earlier. She grabs her phone and opens up her chat with you.

Alice: i invited marilyn out tonight is that okay

She sends the text off and then pockets her phone, knowing you would see the notification right away but still take at least an hour to reply. To her surprise you text back right away.

She watches the little speech bubble in suspense.

Atikah: Yuh ofccc, why wouldn’t it be? x

Thank goodness you weren’t annoyed!

Alice: yh but it was gonna b a just us thing tho didn’t think when i asked her

You tut to yourself at her poor grammar when it came to texting.

Atikah: The more the merrier gal, dw about it.

Atikah: Besides I still gotta give her the whole best friend talk

Alice: swear to god if u do ill have ur head on a stick

Atikah: I’ll*

Alice: stfu

Atikah: Love you too bitch xxx

~

You had spent the day catching up with yourself, cleaning your quarters and a quick trip into Jericho to restock your fridge and most importantly your small booze collection.

When you had awoken in the morning you hadn’t thought anything strange about your laptop being moved or your lamp turned off. You deduced that you must have been so exhausted you couldn’t recall doing any of that. Larissa’s kiss had left a faint dash of her lipstick on your face but in your sleep it had rubbed off. Her little token of affection lost, never to be recognised by you.

You’re in the middle of rummaging through your wardrobe when Alice lets herself in. Only announcing her presence with the racket she makes in your kitchenette - slamming cupboard doors. You really should get into the habit of locking your door.

“Let’s get tonight started!” The lycan pushes your bedroom door open with her foot, her hands full with two glasses.

You don’t need to ask because you know that she’s already poured generous amounts of alcohol into them. She forgets her lycanthropy gives her a higher tolerance to the substance than the average person.

“It can start after you help me pick out what to wear,” you talk into your closet not looking away from your clothes.

“Move! I already have your outfit chosen,” Alice pushes you away and thrusts a glass into your hand before rifling through your wardrobe.

You busy yourself with setting up your speaker and finding a playlist that's suitable for pre drinks. You take a long swig from your glass, wincing at the strength of it but enjoying the warm sensation it leaves as it travels down your throat. Alice had given you some vodka mixer concoction and it brings memories from your student days to the forefront of your mind. You can’t comprehend how vodka used to be your choice of drink back then.

“Here!” Alice looks triumphant as she lays out the clothes she’s selected onto the bed before turning to you, “it’s perfect! It’ll show just enough skin to entice someone but not enough to satisfy them- ”

“What are you on about?”

“I’m gonna help you get with someone, anyways as I was saying- ”

“Whoa, hold it! I know I’m feeling marginally better but it’s been like three days since??? Getting to know someone who isn’t Larissa isn't really what I want- ”

“You’re not gonna get to know them silly, it’ll be to rebound, put a spring back into your step, y’know? To remind you you’re still a hot bitch even if Weems doesn’t see that. Anyways, enough about that, let’s talk clothes,” Alice points to the outfit she laid out for you, “with those dangly silver earrings you have- Oh! And with your necklace, with the- the uhhh, the thing!” Alice scrambles for the word she’s looking for.

“The thing? Right… yeah, I know exactly what you mean,” you lay the sarcasm on thick.

“Shut up, but you know the one that sits low on your chest! That one! Wear it,”

“Yes ma’am,” you mutter good naturedly.

There’s a knock at the door and Alice says she’ll get it. As she leaves, another person enters your room in the form of a white cat. Larissa had told herself these visits would stop but after two days not seeing you, she couldn’t cope. And had given in. Reasoning that she may not get to be close to you as Larissa, but as Bärchen she could at least bask in your presence and watch you without worry.

“Hello!” Marilyn calls through your quarters, and you greet her back.

You poke your head out your bedroom door to let them know you’re just changing before closing it. Larissa has no time to react before you’ve whisked off your day clothes and stand in the middle of your room clad in just your underwear. She freezes, half her body inside your room, the other outside on the balcony. Her eyes are trained on your body and she starts to purr involuntarily. The sound snags your attention and you offer her a reserved smile.

“And I was beginning to think you’d abandoned me,” you chuckle, it had been almost a week since you’d last seen your little feline friend.

You lean down to pick her up, in doing so giving Larissa a front row seat of your cleavage. She prayed to every higher being for strength as she felt your hands wrap around her lithe body. Bärchen’s fur was soft and plush against your skin, you cradle her in your arms and press little kisses to her forehead. With each smooch her purring somehow gets louder.

“You changed!?” Alice’s words are muffled through the wooden door.

“No!”

“Hurry up!”

You shake your head and plop Bärchen onto your bed before changing into a lingerie set from your fancy underwear collection, as you like to call it. Otherwise you chose comfort over sex appeal when it comes to pants.

Larissa only watches your body as if she’s entranced. She wants to look away, this wasn’t right, especially after turning you down. But you were so perfect in her eyes and she wanted to commit every stretch mark, every fold, every curve of your body to her memory. Because she knew she’d never see you like that otherwise.

You shove on the outfit Alice had curated for you and checked yourself out in the mirror, you had to admit you did look hot. And you felt good in the clothes. After a little more scrutinising you decide you’re happy with how the clothes sit. Laughter from the next room draws your gaze to your door, with a deep breath you down the rest of your drink and then all of Alice’s. Her fault for leaving it in here and not taking it with her.

“Guys you better not be shagging on my couch!” You holler as you open your door. Letting the two women spill into your room.

Marilyn enters first and her eyes zero in immediately onto Bärchen. Bypassing you entirely to fuss over the cat who was hesitant to her touch.

“You have a pet?!”

You open your mouth but Alice shouts over you, telling the redhead to not ask questions. But she has another one to ask and disregards the lycan’s warning.

“Does Larissa know?”

“Nope,” you pop the ‘p’.

“Hey? Where’d my drink go?”

You shrug.

The next half hour is spent with Marilyn on your balcony, cat in her arms (who is desperately trying to escape) as she gives an in-depth lecture on each of your plants, whilst Alice does your make up and hair inside.

A good few drinks later and you’re sufficiently tipsy with a cab enroute. You chuck what you need into a small bag before heading over to your bed - Bärchen had rushed over and buried herself on your duvet the second Marilyn had released her.

“I’ll see you later,” you press a kiss to her furry forehead, leaving a lipstick stain before tucking her small form into the bed. She blinks at you, slowly.

“Ooh! I wanna say goodbye to the cat too!” You hear marilyn exclaim from your living room.

She runs into your bedroom and peppers little pecks over Bärchen’s head before she could escape under your covers. You hear a low growl and shake your head.

“She’s a fussy princess,” you joke before dragging the botanist out of your room.

~

The trio of you waltz into the bar, Alice and yourself giggling whilst Marilyn grumbles to herself. The bouncer had let Marilyn in first then asked for Alice’s ID and yours.

“I’m not old!”

“You- you’re not, you’re just mature- hey!” Alice recieves a quick slap on the arm.

“Think you’re in the doghouse tonight,” you quip before beelining to the bar.

The establishment was dimly lit, it was the kind of place that couldn’t decide if it was a nightclub or a bar. So it ended up this weird amalgamation, with seating and an open space for dancing, a humble dj booth pressed against the far wall. The music was loud, too quiet to call it a club but too loud to be heard at a normal talking level.

“Hey, uh could I get a double vodka coke… a single rum with coke as well, and a…” you try to think what Marilyn drank.

“Sambuca and orange juice,” Alice appears at your side, and fills in the blank your mind was having. “Oh and three tequila shots. Lime and salt please!”

The bartender smiles and gets to work. You glare at Alice, “Tequila? Are you trying to kill me?”

“Can’t handle your liquor?” Marilyn chimes in, with a teasing smile.

“I could outdrink you easily,” you shoot back with a defiant look.

~

As the night progresses the three of you abandon the table you had sat at in favour of the dance floor. A crowd had formed since you had entered, the place was busier - almost packed full. You enjoy how the bass vibrates through your body and the music blares. You know half the lyrics but still sing along. The alcohol removes the weight you feel on your shoulders. The smile on your face is genuine and reaches your eyes.

Marilyn had disappeared off to the bathroom and Alice had decided it was time for another drink. You declined her offer to join her at the bar, too content to stop your dancing. Just as she slipped through the sea of people, a body presses up against you from behind. Hands rest on your waist, itching to go lower.

You are fully ready to turn round and square up but a raspy voice stops you. Whoever it is has leaned down close to your ear in order to be heard over the music.

“Blow jobs or sex on the beach?”

‘What the fuck?’ You’re too stunned at the blaise of this person. Just as you’re about to tell them to go do one they buy themselves a second chance.

“I’m talking about drinks, of course, but we can talk about the actual acts if you’d prefer!”

You look over your shoulder to be met with a taller woman around your age, her thick dark curls tickle your cheek whilst her earthy green eyes, speckled with dashes of brown, fight to stay on your face and not stray any further down. She had a strong jaw and heavy set brows, she reminded you of some kind of Amazonian warrior.

You reach up and hook your arm around her neck, pulling her down to your level before responding to her. “I think that’s the worst pick up line I’ve ever heard. Do you want to try again?” You fight to keep the laughter out of your voice.

She smiles, giving a toothy grin. Delighted you’ve taken the bait. She sucks in air between her teeth and winces theatrically, “Ow- tough crowd. Okay okay.” She taps her chin in deep thought, “How about… I’m not drunk. Just intoxicated by you.”

“Better,” you feel your mouth stretch in a smile as your eyes fall to Maven’s lips. She’s sporting a deep plum coloured lipstick. “But you just got that from some trashy click bait website, didn’t you?”

Maven feigns offence, her mouth falling open and her bushy brows shooting up to her hairline. She spins you around to face her, holding you at arms length by your waist. You take this opportunity to look her up and down, taking your sweet time with no attempt to hide it.

“Do I look like that kind of person? You think that lowly of me?” Maven apparently missed the feeling of your body, she pulls you back to her before whispering in your ear, “you’ve wounded me and I think only a kiss can fix me,”

“A kiss?” You take on the same tone you would if you were playing along with a small child’s story.

Maven nods. Eyes lighting up with hope.

You kiss her cheek, “here? Or…” you place another on the corner of her jaw, “here?” Your lips find the swell of her throat, “what about here?” You look up at her through your mascara coated lashes. “Or…” you place a kiss on her chest.

“Fuck…” she bites her lip, a hunger festering in her eyes, “how about lower?”

“Lower?” You raise a brow and humour her, trailing your mouth down to the end of her dress’s plunging neckline at her solar plexus.

She lets out a deep throaty indulgent moan.

You stand up straight and wrap your arms around her neck, pulling her just millimetres from your face. Your eyes give her a challenging look and she’s quick to take the invitation to your lips. It’s sloppy and uncoordinated - but the feeling of a warm body against yours, plush lips bruising your own, and a demanding tongue exploring your mouth is enjoyable.

“I’m Maven, yours?” She gasps out pulling away for air, before rushing back in for more.

You move your head back, giving you enough time to mutter your own name before letting her kiss you again.

When drunk, there’s very little getting to know each other before you have your tongues down each other’s throat. And Maven was no exception. You were accustomed to it, having had your fair share of tipsy make out sessions with strangers, with the only thing you know about them being their name. And that’s all you wanted to know.

“Can I take you home?” Maven speaks very closely to your ear, her voice is raspy and tinged with a little too much eagerness. But not enough to give you the ick.

You give her a quick once over and say yes .

Maven takes your hand and leads you to the door, outside to one of the numerous taxis waiting for customers. In no time at all you’ve found yourself sitting in the back of a cab. As Maven gives her address you check your phone. A couple texts from Alice sat in your notifications from about twenty or so minutes ago.

Alice: u still on the dance floor? found Marilyn btw

Alice: girl hello?

It seems she must have lost the spot you were at when she had left to get another drink.

Atikah: No just left sorry! I’m going back to someone’s tho ;) hope you and Marilyn have a nice night x

Atikah: Thanks for tonight, I’ll send you the address later. And text when I leave for Nevermore x

Alice replies immediately.

Alice: gotcha i expect a full debrief tomo mari and me are gonna go back

‘Mari and I,’ is all you think to yourself.

~

Larissa had left your quarters not too long after you had. She was feeling shit. There were no better words to describe how she felt. She just felt. Shit.

Shit because she was feeling fomo, at the big old age of forty six, shit because she felt immature for the fomo, shit because Marilyn was able to start seeing a younger woman, shit because she wanted to have that too, shit because she wasn’t with you right now to shower you in compliments, shit because she wasn’t there to lay her claim on you if someone bought you a drink at the bar. Shit because she… because she missed you.

The blonde felt like she was losing her mind in her quarters - she kept finding herself looking out the window, hoping to see if your light turned on. So she climbed herself up onto the roof and settled in a spot where she could see the world but not be seen herself. She had spent many nights in that exact spot as a student enjoying the tranquility. The blonde shivered in the cold air, having not thought of wearing a jacket. What she did have was the next best thing - your scarf, which she draped over her shoulders like a shawl.

From her vantage point she can see the headlights of a lone car as it travels down the road towards Nevermore’s circular drive. It stopped at the gates and let out its passengers. Two figures. They waste no time hurrying down the gravel path and as they get closer to the school building Larissa can just make out that it’s Miss. Hansen and Marilyn. She casts her gaze back to the car which is in the process of a three point turn.

A deep frown settles on her lips. You should be with them. Why were you not? She’s about to jump to conclusions in her head but stops herself, you’d probably arrive soon in another taxi… most likely you had bumped into an old friend and said you’d stay and catch up with them, that you’d head home later.

~

You’re barely through the threshold before Maven has you pinned against the door. Her lips back on yours as she hungrily laps her tongue around yours. Her moans getting lost in your mouth.

Her thigh forces its way between yours, not that you put up much resistance in parting them. Her hands - her big hands - travel down from your shoulders over your breasts, kneading them and teasing out soft whimpers from you. Your hips jerk at the sensation but it doesn’t last long, Maven’s hands go straight for your hips. Pulling you down onto her leg and guiding your hips in a rolling motion.

You can feel yourself grow wet. You tangle your hands in her wild curls as her lips move down onto your neck. Where she sucks and licks. Leaving deep red marks. Your mind is too cloudy with carnal thoughts to stop her. All you can focus on is how good her thigh feels against your core which now throbs.

No words are exchanged, only grunts and desperate whines ring out through the empty apartment. You're vaguely aware of how Maven has started working on your chest, marking the skin with her mouth. Creating more red welts you’d have to deal with in the morning.

Her hand slips past your clothing, deft fingers stroking you through your dampened underwear. Maven can feel the thin lace fabric on her fingertips. You let out a sinful moan and close your eyes, leaning your head back. A hungry smirk plays on her face.

She drops to her knees, pulling the fabric of your pants aside. Her tongue, firm and warm, and wet runs along your folds. Sending a piercing wave of pleasure through you.

~

Larissa waited on the rooftop but no car came down that. Her mind ran amok with all the worst things that could be happening to you. And so she ended up back in her office. Employee files strewn across her desk as she fumbles to find yours.

“Karnstein… Karnstein, oh come on!” She burst out in exasperation as she pulls out a file for a Meinwald Karnstine.

Meinwald had retired several years ago, and Larissa had no idea why his file was still there. It was promptly chucked over her shoulder in the general direction of her waste paper basket. Her search continues.

Eventually she finds your file. It had somehow ended up in a different area. Usually Larissa was very particular and kept everything in alphabetical order when she could. She must have misplaced it when you had handed back the forms before you started officially working at Nevermore.

No matter, she’s found it. And most importantly, found your phone number.

~

“God! Lar- ” you open your eyes to look down but you aren’t met with blue eyes that reflect the softness of the summer sky and the complexity of the sea. Instead eyes of green like the moss that covers old stone ruins in forests gaze back. “Shit…” your chest rises and falls as you slow your breathing.

You push Maven’s head back and slide down the door so you're kneeling in front of her. Your shoulders slump as you run a hand through your hair.

“Wh-what’s wrong?” Maven sounds genuinely worried which makes you feel even worse. “Did I do something-?”

“No!” You screw your eyes shut, “No,” you speak more gently this time, “you haven’t, I’m just… I’m a bit of a mess,”

“We just started,” Maven chuckles lightly, she’d happily take you to her bedroom and dim as the lights if you were worried about how you looked.

“No- I mean like, as a person. Right now,” you elaborate, “I don’t think this hook up… it’s not fair on you. I’m… I’m kinda hung up on someone,”

“Oh… right, okay.” Maven sits back on her legs and tries to find something else to say.

“Can I use your bathroom?” You don’t have the strength to meet her eyes.

She points you in the direction of her toilet, you lock the door behind you. You grab some toilet roll and clean yourself up. There wasn’t much to clean, like Maven said. You guys had really only just started. You flush the paper down the toilet and check yourself in the mirror. Deep purple lipstick is smeared across your neck and chest, you’d prefer if it was red. With a sigh you grab more toilet paper and wet it in the sink before wiping your skin clean.

~

Maven was kind enough to call you a taxi. And had accepted your apologies with grace. Softly saying she would be happy to bump into you in the future. Your strained smile and silence told her all she needed to know.

The taxi door shuts and after giving the address to Nevermore with a trembling voice, the tears start trickling down your face. You wipe them away with your arm. Trying to keep your sobs quiet.

The driver looks at you worriedly through the rear view mirror a few times but stays silent. You’re glad, because you don’t want to have to talk.

By the time you reach the school you’ve stopped crying - Maven lived quite a bit away, giving you ample time to get ahold of yourself . You pay the man before hopping out and rush to get back to your bed.

~

It’s almost two in the morning and the halls of Nevermore are silent save for the sound of rushed footfalls. Larissa’s loafers hit the ground with muffled thumps as she pulls on her coat over her night slip. She presses the call button on her phone and brings it to her ear, the dial tone ringing out. In her other hand she fiddles with her car keys. Larissa is so focused on listening for a change of tone that she doesn’t hear a second set of footsteps ring out.

She whips round a corner and comes to a shuddering halt. Because lo and behold, there stands you. Looking down at your phone. Brows drawn together as you read the unknown number. Feeling a pair of eyes burning into you, you look up. Your mildly perplexed expression falling into surprise. The first thing you notice is that Larissa’s hair is down. Her silken locks cascading over her shoulders.

You hadn’t seen Larissa since she disregarded your feelings. You missed her dearly but bumping into her on her way to meet with her fuck buddy - you presumed because where else would she be going at two am and who else would she be calling? Wasn’t how you planned on ending the night. Was it too late to go back to Maven’s?

“Hi,” you mutter weakly whilst declining the call.

You don’t wait for Larissa to reply, walking past her as she just stares at you mutely, apparently too shocked by the state of you to say anything. You make sure to leave a distance between yourselves as you step around her.

Unable to bear another second near Larissa, you pick up the pace and disappear round the bend and down the hallway.

“Atikah!”

You stop suddenly. You want to keep going, to ignore her. For the sake of your broken heart, but there’s something in her voice that makes you willing to suffer more pain if it means you can have one more interaction with her. Even if she’s going to reprimand you for coming back drunk. Or drunk-ish. You had pretty much sobered up on the way back to Nevermore’s.

You stand still, waiting for her to come to you. Of course, with her long legs it only takes her a few strides. You feel her presence behind you and turn to her.

“Atikah I- ” Larissa cuts herself off, her resolve wavering but then she notices the hickeys that adorn your skin, and something clicks in her head.

Seeing love bites on your neck left by someone who wasn’t her woke some possessive beast inside her that had been lying dormant. It wasn’t her place to feel that though, you weren’t hers. But she’d be damned if she didn’t lay out her case before letting someone else have you.

“We need to talk,”

“I’m tired Ms. Weems,” there’s no hidden edge to your voice, you just sound… tired. Like you had said.

“We need to talk, Atikah.” Larissa speaks as if it was life or death. And maybe it is.

“I just want to sleep, please,” you plead. You’re beginning to see double but you’re not sure if it’s the tears welling up in your eyes or from exhaustion. “Please. Just let me go to sleep,”

“How much did you drink?” Her voice drops to a murmur.

“Too much, I want to go to bed.”

Okay, maybe you hadn’t really sobered up in the taxi. That or the alcohol had caught up to you. There’s a haze that clouds your mind.

Larissa chews her lip as she watches you slowly wilt in front of her, looking up at her like a kicked puppy.

“Can you get to bed yourself?”

“I- I don’t wanna be alone,” you have no clue why you said that. It was true but Larissa wasn’t the right person to say that to. You knew her feelings and you truly believed you couldn’t change them.

“Come on,” she sighs, not out of ire.

~

The blonde guides you through the halls, you don’t pay much attention to where. Something in your brain tells you to ask questions when you walk through Larissa’s office, and also when you go through another door into her private quarters, but the words die in your throat. They don’t even make it to your tongue.

Larissa sits you on her bed before fetching a tshirt for you. You watch her every move, desperately trying to connect to a more cognitive part of your brain but it takes too much strength, strength you don’t have.

“Here, put this on,” she hands the T-shirt to you before leaving once again to grab makeup wipes from her vanity.

When she approaches the bed again you’re standing there with your shoes kicked off and your clothes bundled on the floor. You look adorable clad in her shirt. It reaches your knees and the sleeves drown your arms.

Larissa stretches over you to pull back the duvet and you’re quick to scramble under them. Savouring the smoothness of the crisp cotton against your skin.

“One more thing Atikah,” Larissa cups your face, gently wiping the mess of your makeup off of your face.

Your eyes are shut as you lean into her touch. The blonde’s heart soars and she realises she was absolutely insane for having denied herself this.

She lays you down and pulls the sheets over your body before climbing into bed herself. Sticking to her side. You roll over to face her, but you can’t see much in the darkness.

“Are you… are you staying?” You mumble. Sleep has you in its clutches but you make a valiant effort in fending it off.

“I’m just over here… if you need me,”

“I do! I’m sorry!” You suddenly realise how burdensome this must be for Larissa and you're overcome with guilt. “I know you don’t like me, you don’t need to I can go- ”

“Shhh, I do like you- ”

“But the other day you said you didn’t,” little cries punctuate your words as you begin to ramble. What you say makes sense in your head but as you speak you don’t say half the words. Leaving Larissa with broken sentences.

“I do like you…” Larissa’s steady voice brings an end to your nonsensical rant, “but you need to sleep,” she coos, shimmying over to you and pulling you into her arms.

You melt into her instantly. Your arms finding their way around her and roping her into a vice-like hold. Burrowing your head into the crook of her neck.

“Then why did you say you didn’t?”

“I’ll tell you in the morning,”

Larissa can feel your tears wet her neck as you cry, she holds you closer as you sob silently. She hates to realise the pain she caused you, and in that moment she knew she couldn’t say or do anything to stop your tears. All she could do was hold you and let you cry until you fell asleep.

“My sweet girl, I am so sorry…” she utters into the night before letting herself fall asleep.

Tomorrow she would fix this. She vowed to you and herself.

~

AN - hope you guys liked it <3

Taglist - @weemssapphic @h-doodles @blessmysouljessisonaroll @eveymay @lvinhs @enchantressb @a-queen-and-her-throne @vmpnano @opheliauniverse

[ghcstao3]

Absolutely loosing it over the idea of Ghost sneaking around to see what Soap is doing on leave. He gets jealous/insecure seeing him set up a date/picnic etc. Can't get it out of his head, has to know who John is getting things for. Stalking only for Soap to call out to Ghost while hes waiting-

"'Knew you were here the whole time, Lt. Join me? I brought tea." (or something along those lines).

-🤺

what a silly thing for ghost to do. also so real. love it

-

Ghost hadn't ever thought of himself as the jealous type until he met John "Soap" MacTavish.

Truly, he hadn't ever had reason to be the jealous type before Soap. Nor does he now, really, but of course the man who brings out the best in Ghost also has to bring out the very green-eyed worst. It's upsetting.

And impossible to ignore.

His envy begins with smaller things, like the casual touches Soap offers to just about anyone, or the smile he always seems to be wearing when Ghost wishes it were just him such a thing was reserved for. It's an ugly feeling that only grows worse with time—but what else can Ghost do but stand in the sidelines and feel miserable for himself? Soap has always and will always deserve better than Ghost.

But even if Ghost's jealousy gets to the point where it's a constant, overbearing presence, he does his best to manage it well. He does manage it well.

On base, that is. Surrounded by other soldiers, his colleagues, and always with something more important to do, Ghost is able to tame the beast that Soap has brought life to.

Then they're sent on leave. Horrible, ever-dreaded leave. The entire 141, including Price for once. And suddenly Ghost's envy cannot be shoved aside for menial tasks and conversation, not for long, at least. Being on his own doesn't bode well.

So he decides he'd visit Soap. Sort of.

The train ticket booking is on impulse. Ghost finds a hotel room even knowing where Soap lives, because he doesn't know if Soap would want to see him.

He's... pathetic, really. Utterly hopeless.

By the time he's mustered any courage to actually show up at Soap's front door, Ghost happens upon the man on his convoluted route there.

Well, happens upon is a strong term. It's more like Ghost sees Soap from afar, sitting on a park bench with his journal, and plants himself far enough that Soap wouldn't see him, but Ghost would still be able to watch.

Forgive him, for being so nosy.

Ghost isn't sure what overcomes him, when Soap eventually stands and Ghost rises, too. He isn't sure what overcomes him when he waits a few seconds before continuing to follow, to lurk like a complete creep. But he does, anyway. Until he snaps out of whatever stupid trance he's in, turns tail and heads back to the hotel.

It doesn't stop that day, though. He figures Soap might frequent the park, knowing the sergeant and his love for any sort of outdoors—and Ghost is easily proven right, as he watches Soap set up at the same bench with his journal the very next day.

He's curious, alright? Nothing more—until jealousy flares through him with the easy smiles Soap offers passersby. Until Ghost is envious of whatever kind greetings Soap offers those same people with that accent Ghost had grown to love even in spite of the nonsense Soap sometimes spoke.

Until a young woman, beautiful and surely Soap's type, joins him on the bench and makes Soap laugh. Until Soap is happily showing her whatever is in his journal and talks to her for ages.

Ghost leaves the park first, that time. But he comes back the next day, and the next. It's the same thing, minus the woman, until one day Soap isn't at the bench. Instead, he's laid out a blanket on the green and is unpacking enough food for two from a plain rucksack.

Ghost doesn't know when, but he creeps closer. He still stays out of sight—God forbid Soap see his lieutenant stalking him—but close enough that he can make out the things Soap has brought. Close enough that he can see the vague shapes of sketches Soap is still endeavouring to draw before whoever he's surely waiting for arrives.

Which is too close, apparently.

"LT," Soap is suddenly calling out. He hasn't so much as looked up from his journal. "I know you're here, ya numpty."

Ghost hesitates a long while, the kind of hesitation that would get him killed on the field. But here, it only stretches on an awkwardness Ghost had hoped never to face. To never have to admit he'd been observing Soap, his subordinate, from afar because he was jealous.

But Soap is patient as Ghost gradually makes his way to the blanket. He doesn't sit right away, however, even when Soap prompts him.

"Aren't you waiting on someone?" Ghost asks. He prays he sounds impassive enough, but he can't help the tinge of bitterness that seeps into his voice.

Soap shakes his head. "Unless I count you," he says. "C'mon, Simon, sit. I brought more than enough for the both of us."

Ghost complies, dropping cautiously across from Soap, staring owlishly at the sergeant who seems far too casual about all of this.

"You're not going to ask?"

Again, Soap shakes his head. "If I wanted to know on my terms, I woulda walked over to you the first day I saw you at the park. Now, I dinnae have much tea at home, so I hope what I brought'll do."

Soap continues to chatter away to both himself and Ghost while he shoves food and drink in Ghost's direction. Ghost just sits in disbelief before he's able to settle.

But once he realizes that the green-eyed monster has finally backed away for once, Ghost allows himself to just enjoy Soap's company, before he thinks to answer any questions and ruin this peace. He has the sergeant to himself, for this one moment, and, really, it's all he's ever been needing.

[gingerjunhan]

boyfriend headcannons - han hyeongjun

☆彡 EEEEEEKK it’s Jun Han time! :D 🩷

word count: 690 | pronouns used: none | genre: fluff, established relationship | cws: YouTube like is safe!!, all caps, (Hyeongjun’s) insecurities mentioned, eating mentioned, I love him, not proofread, lmk if I missed something

← previous member | next member →

obviously, I have a lot to say

here we go

first things first, Hyeongjun shows you how he loves you instead of telling you

there was some radio interview they did one time where the other members said he doesn’t say “I love you much”

so he makes sure to physically show his appreciation for you

what’s that? you were stressed from your workload? Hyeongjun made you dinner and cleaned up your place while you were out

you’re feeling nervous about a big job interview? he got you flowers to wish you good luck

stuff like that

I also feel like someone somewhere said that Hyeongjun is really good with dates?

idk maybe I’m gaslighting myself into thinking that

but he never never forgets anything!

birthdays, anniversaries, important events- he’s there

I also think a lot about the one Knock Down Debate that they did where Hyeongjun yelled at the others because they never pick up their phones when he calls them

so hey, at least he’s good at communication in that aspect

I don’t think Hyeongjun is one for pet names

I literally cannot picture him calling someone a pet name, but I could easily be wrong

if he did I feel like they would be simple

“honey”

“love”

“sweetie”

short and sweet stuff

he gets flustered easily if you call him something though!

I feel like it would be really easy to fluster him

STOOOPP imagine Hyeongjun meeting your pets

forget about your family- let this man meet your cat

okay but fr this man is sweating buckets meeting your family

he’s afraid that they would think he’s too quiet or too boring :(

but once they get to know him and once he warms up to them that’s obviously not true!

I mean, come on, look at the way that man can shred on the guitar. there is not a boring bone in his body

he’s a kiss on the cheek typa guy

no big fancy gestures

just something cute, simple, and sweet

he actually doesn’t strike me as a big gesture guy at all?

no wait let me explain

let me cook

not big on PDA, not the best with words, and he wouldn’t feel like his acts of kindness are very big

like, he let you hold on to kkito while he was away for a few days so you wouldn’t miss him- why are you crying?

ugh I wanna squeeze him :(

he will come to you with any sort of problem no matter how big or how small

he trusts you completely

he would literally be your friend first and your boyfriend second

Hyeongjun strikes me as the type to not need affection much, but when he does he’s a little nervous to ask

“Jun, what’s wrong?”

“I need a hug.” :(

you almost don’t hear him but y’all are so close that you can figure it out

you can basically read his mind

I feel like a relationship with Hyeongjun would go slow, and that’s okay!

why mess with perfection 😉

no need to rush first kisses or first I love yous

you’re just having fun together!

HE MAKES A PLAYLIST OF SONGS THAT REMIND HIM OF YOU 😭😭😭😭

“This song played in the restaurant during our first date.”

“This song was stuck in my head right before you kissed me for the first time.”

“This song was-“ STOP IT I can’t do this anymore

ALWAYS makes sure you’re taking care of yourself

making sure you eat meals and get enough rest

he’s so open minded!

I feel like he has strong opinions, but he’s chill with most things?

those two things literally cancel out but whatever

he buys clothes that he also thinks you would like in case you want to steal them 😼

pays very close attention to detail!

no new haircut or nail color goes unnoticed!

he draws little pictures of you in his sketchbook all the time :(

loving Hyeongjun is gentle, calm, and fun- like sitting in the grass on a sunny day

no pressure, no rush, just you two having fun being together 🩷

god I love him so much

taglist: @dazzlingligth , @mini-mews , @mxlly143 , @somethingaboutcheese , comment to be added!⁎⁺˳✧༚

[sunlightmurdock]

My Future in You | 1.7 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

synopsis: Bradley’s twenty-two years old and not where he’s supposed to be. He’s supposed to be out of the academy by now. Instead, he’s retaking his senior year of college and praying to god that he gets into flight school. Mav’s gone, his mom’s gone. He’s mad at the world. Then, a hook up at a Halloween party changes his future even more than he could have imagined.

warnings: accidental pregnancy, references to abortion in a few chapters, angst, will be fluff eventually, will be smut so 18+, enemies to lovers kinda thing

…

“So, did you and Bradley kiss and make up yet?” Jake asks it almost absent-mindedly as he picks an old trinket off of the shelf and examines it. Luckily, his attention is piqued by the old toy so he doesn’t notice the way your head whips around.

“Ki — uh. No,” You answer quickly, giving your head a small shake. “No, we haven’t spoken.”

“Really? – I thought he was headed over to your place to apologize yesterday,” Jake muses, shaking his head disappointedly without turning to look at you. If yesterday was Bradley’s idea of an apology, you can understand why he is the way that he is. “Guess he changed his mind.”

You hum in agreement as you turn and look around the old thrift shop, pushing your hands into the pockets of your jeans.

It’s best that Jake doesn’t know about yesterday. Bradley’s angry at you again already, so it doesn’t make any difference. It was just a mistake. A really good mistake, but a mistake nonetheless.

You think back to the hurt in his eyes as you had mentioned Ryan. As he realized that your plan doesn’t involve him —- you’re not willing to choose him.

Remembering how he had gotten dressed whilst you had tried to explain yourself, so angry that he had fallen silent. The cold look in those warm, brown eyes as he had said, “You’re fucking unbelievable.” and left your apartment late last night.

You had needed a distraction this morning, a reason to tell Ryan you were busy and a reason to get Bradley off of your mind. So, you’re standing in a thrift store off of the UVA campus with Jake. He’s a bad shopping partner — he just keeps picking up the most random things that he can find and coming over to show you.

Still, this is better than sitting in your room and thinking about what a mess you’ve gotten yourself into. Even if Jake’s bored out of his mind and grabbing increasingly random objects to show you.

“So, how’s my nephew this week?” Jake asks, crouching down and lifting up a ceramic dinosaur wearing a cowboy hat. His brows furrow slightly as he examines the ornament.

You glance down and brush your hand over your bump, then shrug.

“Active,” You answer as you walk past Jake and run your fingers over the clothes on the rail. “Moving all the time since we left the hospital.”

Jake looks up in intrigue, his lips quirk slightly. He likes hearing about this stuff, it makes it all the more real. You’re almost twenty-one weeks now, a little over halfway there. Your stomach’s rounded out and visible through every item of clothing that isn’t two sizes too big. Each time he sees you, he asks more and more about the baby.

Jake’s excited to meet his nephew. Silently, he wishes that you and Bradley would figure your shit out. He knows better than to say it, he has involved himself enough and it’s not his problem to fix. He just wants your baby to have a better childhood than the two of you and your sisters had, and a better one than Bradley had. He wants it to be perfect.

“What does it feel like?” There’s a smile on your brother’s face as he ditches the ceramic dinosaur and stands upright, adjusting the longhorns cap on his head. He leans against the shelves as you browse.

It’s hard to describe the feeling of the baby moving, especially since it’s so new. It doesn’t feel like you had expected it to. There aren’t strong kicks just yet, nothing like that. You pause for a moment, trying to think of how to put it into words.

“Kind of like butterflies.” You decide eventually, that’s as close as you can get to describing the feeling.

Jake smiles softly. He nods his head, that makes sense. He turns back, resuming his search for more odd ornaments, “You and Bradley need to hurry up and make up. Need you to convince him to name the kid Jake.”

You laugh at the idea, rolling your eyes playfully. Jake Bradshaw. Bradley would hate the idea.

After a couple of hours of shopping, lunch and then stopping by the house to watch a movie on the big TV downstairs, you’re exhausted. Jake offers up his room for you to go and take a nap.

Halfway up the stairs, you change your mind.

Bradley’s sitting at his desk, elbows resting on the wood and his palm over his mouth, squinting slightly as he reads through some political theory that he’ll have to reference in his essay.

The sound of his door opening would be a welcome distraction, but it isn’t. He frowns slightly, sitting back in his desk chair silently as his eyes meet yours.

You shift slightly under the scrutiny of his gaze, biting the inside of your cheek as you step inside and close the door behind you. He watches as you swallow sheepishly. Giving you a quick look up and down, the thought crosses his mind that you’re dressed up more than you were yesterday. He wonders if it’s because you were coming to see him.

You’re wearing a fitted dress that stretches over your bump and a pretty, knit-patterned cardigan over that. You cross your arms in front of you and bite your lip, trying to figure out what to say to him.

He leans back further in the chair, parting his knees, resting his forearms on the armrests. He’s sitting in a pair of gym shorts and a hoodie, staring at you calmly.

“Hi.” You aren’t sure what else to say, how else to begin. Bradley scoffs. The two of you are well past hi by now. You bite your cheek.

“I’m sorry.”

Again, he makes a noise of disbelief. He shakes his head and runs his fingers through his hair. He needs a haircut soon. His eyes meet yours. “For which part?”

“Asking you not to tell him,” You say quietly, your voice small as you shift your weight on your feet. You shake your head softly, “I shouldn’t have said that. It wasn’t fair to you.”

Bradley shrugs his shoulders, “If you want to keep it from him, that’s your decision. But if he asks me, I’m going to tell him.”

You don’t like that answer. Bradley can see it on your face, the immediate disapproval. Regardless, that’s his answer and he’s not going to change it because it’s not what you want to hear.

“There nothing to tell him. We just… we…”

He pushes his chair back and stands up. Your back bumps into the door as he crosses the room to you. He stands in front of you, eyes focused on yours.

“We just what?”

Fucked. Had sex. Made lo — no, you definitely didn’t do that. Nothing’s the right answer. Bradley can practically see the wheels in your head turning as you scramble for an answer that justifies what you’re trying to do. Which is cheat on Ryan.

“If you want to cheat on your boyfriend, Seresin, that’s your problem,” Bradley shrugs his stupid broad shoulders and looks down at you. His curls are messy from studying, he needs a haircut soon but you like it at this length. He’s freshly shaved, that mustache still decorating his top lip. He’s standing so close. “Don’t come crying to me when it backfi—“

You rest your hand against his stomach over his shirt and step forwards, catching the back of his neck. He kisses you back without hesitation, hands finding your hips and tugging your body forwards into his.

He’s single, you want him — he doesn’t see an issue in this. Plus, he thinks your boyfriend is an asshole, so what does he care if his heart gets broken?

Slipping your fingers under his shirt, your tongue into his mouth — everything that happens next is all your doing. Even once you’re out of your clothes, on your back on his bed with him between your legs, it’s your hand in his curls keeping him there.

The scratch of his mustache as his mouth works along your thigh, sending goosebumps across your skin. Brown eyes flicker upwards, catching your gaze. When his lips kiss against your clit and then suck, you start to come undone all together.

He experiments a little. Your fingers curl into his hair as he tries out different levels of pressure, different patterns of moving his tongue. He takes mental notes, the way you sigh contentedly with the reprieve of light contact and whimper at firmer force.

You cum shuddering against his mouth, the burn of his mustache against your skin. He gives you no time to recover through the aftershocks, mouth working through your release.

Your tug softly at his hair as you come to the realization. He’s such an asshole. He’s been holding out on you — he has been able to make you cum this hard the entire time, he just hadn’t been trying.

But he is now, and your body is trembling before he’s even inside of you. You whimper softly as he fills you, sitting on his knees with your legs over his hips. He fucks into you in short, soft thrusts until he’s buried completely.

He leans his head back and groans softly, giving you a moment to adjust. Then, his gaze is on your body again. His hands start on either side of your ribs, cupping your tits. He lets out a soft breath as his hands trail down, taking his time and letting his gaze follow just as slowly.

You squirm under him, impatient and nervous under his gaze. He brushes a hand over your developing stomach and shakes his head softly, “Don’t think I’m ever gonna get tired of seeing this.” He admits.

“Really?” The question leaves your mouth before you plan to ask it. He swallows and nods, leaning forwards to cover your body with his.

“Uh-huh,” He murmurs, kissing your lips tenderly. His hand slides up to cup your jaw, keeping your mouth on his as he begins to rock his hips forwards. “So perfect like this.”

You press your lips to his shoulder, trailing kisses up and onto his neck. He groans softly at the feeling.

This time isn’t like yesterday. This house isn’t empty. Jake will come looking for you if you’re gone too long. But Bradley knows your body better today than he did yesterday, his fingers work figure eights on your clit as he fucks into you hurriedly.

His hand hooks under the back of your knee and pushes it up out of his way, wrapping your leg around his waist. You moan into the crook of his neck.

“Shh, shh, shh,” Bradley hums into your hair, guiding your leg up higher around his waist, rocking himself deeper into you. He kisses your lips to quieten you. He’s burning hot, like always, but he shivers at the feeling of your fingers brushing along the back of his bicep, digging into the flesh in search of leverage.

He grunts loudly, snapping his hips forwards, then reminding himself that your brother is right across the hall. He presses his palm over your mouth as another gasping whimper leaves your mouth, catching the sound in his hand.

You press your hand over his and hold it there, eyes rolling back into your head as he fucks you. You dig your heels into the mattress, squirming against him as he brings you to your orgasm and pounds you through it.

You’re a mess, crying his name into his palm, writhing under him, trembling. He’s never seen you look so beautiful. Your walls clench around him, making his hips stutter.

He groans, pulling his hand away from your mouth and replacing it with his lips. His hands find your hips, pulling you taught against him. He drives himself as deep into you as he can, letting his forehead fall to rest against yours.

Once he’s spent, he rolls off of you and lays on his back at your side, trying to catch his breath. He grabs your arm and pulls you closer to him haphazardly, wrapping his arms around your torso, pressing his lips to the top of your head.

You should be filled with guilt, but you aren’t. In fact, you’re so not guilty about how good that was, that you don’t even bat an eyelid at getting dressed and going back downstairs to keep hanging out with your brother like nothing had happened.

It’s okay, it’s the last time. You got it out of your system. At least, you think you did. Until the next day when he brings by some books that you let him borrow — they don’t really need to be returned.

They remain where they were dropped, right by the door, when you’re unbuckling Bradley’s belt and tugging him into your bed again.

Right after that — in your shower — that’s supposed to be the last time too. But the way his hands feel on your skin, his lips on your neck. The way that he looks at you now. You both know it’s not the last time.

Even after Ryan comes over that night and you watch a movie together, you’re still in Bradley’s arms the next day. In the backseat of his bronco. His bed again. The couch in the loft at the frat house — that one was risky. Your bed again.

Him coming over innocently to study the day after that. Both of you agreeing that this has to stop, that the day before was the last time. Then, him going down on you as you’re trying to study for an exam.

You lose count of how many ‘last times’ the two of you have over the course of that week. Bradley doesn’t. Nine times in seven days. Now, he’s sitting on the bench at football practice, texting you about a potential last time number ten under the guise of you coming over to talk about his navy application.

“Bradshaw!”

He recognises the voice, but it’s purposefully deeper, the boy behind it is furious and trying to let everyone know it. Bradley’s brows raise. Jake’s too. From Bradley’s side, Jake looks up from his phone and follows the noise, frowning.

Ryan’s storming towards them, red in the face, his fists balled at his sides. He looks like he’s going to cry. Jake shoots a look at Bradley, noticing his teammate’s lips quirk up amusedly.

Your boyfriend looks ridiculous when he’s angry, storming towards them like a toddler. Bradley sets his phone down on the bench and scrunches his nose. He tries not to, but a quiet chuckle leaves his lips.

“Oh, shit.” Bradley breathes out amusedly, trying to stop himself from laughing as aryan grows closer. Jake looks between your boyfriend and Bradley, his face drops as he finally catches up on what has happened.

His eyes widen slightly as Bradley watches him figure it out.

Bradley takes a second to wonder how Ryan found out, he knows that you didn’t tell him — you’re too busy texting Bradley, planning to come over later.

“Oh, tell me you fucking didn’t.” Jake groans, knowing that he’s going to be dragged into the middle of this whether he likes it or not. Bradley’s lips quirk up as he pushes himself to stand.

…

@thedroneranger

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@oldnatgwenaccount

@khaylin27

@bioodforbiood

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@little-wiseone

[heliads]

Hello, glad I can submit this request then, I barely find any Luke Castellan fics he needs more love 😭

Anyways, I just wanted to request something small like headcannons on what it would be like at the aftermath of the Battle of Manhattan if Luke didn't die, what would he be like and how the reader would help him overcome his trauma or problems ? Just pure fluff is what I'm trying to say ;_;

Sorry if that doesn't make any sense... Please let me know if you don't understand me XD

But thank you so much if you write this <3

i see that you have asked for headcanons but i am so delighted by this request that you get a full fic instead (ily)

masterlist

Luke Castellan is not sure what to do with the fact that he did not die. It would have made for a better ending, he thinks. It was the logical conclusion. He tried to make a better world, and when that failed, he could have been terminated along with that last dream. It is what most people would have decided was best.

Yet Luke opens his eyes– his eyes, not someone else’s, not that awful feeling of having his body belong to some being that was not even human, let alone not him– and he is alive. Luke is not sure yet whether this is good or bad. He’s not sure that anything in this world could remotely fit into those categories anymore.

He stares up at a blank ceiling above, which confuses him. Last time he checked, Luke was dying on the ruined floor of the gods’ throne room. There had still been a roof over his head, but Luke swore that he could see a sky of the deepest blue. Luke had felt himself fall into that wondrous lapis void, and then he had felt nothing at all.

That was supposed to be dying. It was more peaceful than most people would say he deserved, given all the hell Luke wreaked on the world by allying with Kronos. Luke’s supposed ending had certainly not been pretty:  a dagger in his hand, stabbed into the one place the immortal waters of the River Styx hadn’t protected him. Achilles’ curse had lifted, and Luke was free of the Titan that had been consuming his body whole.

Yet Luke is staring up at a room that is neither burned nor broken. At first, he wonders if this is what death is like, but he’s heard enough stories of the Underworld to know that it would never be this simplistic. No, this isn’t Death; Luke sits up slowly and manages to fight nausea long enough to realize that he’s back in Camp Half-Blood. Back home, his mind tells him, and Luke has to remind himself that’s not true anymore. He has no home. He has no people, he left them all a very long time ago.

A voice to his side makes Luke whip around.

“I’d sit down if I were you.”

Luke trains his eyes until they slowly, begrudgingly focus on an orange-shirted figure seated next to him. At last, he realizes he recognizes the guy. Will Solace, one of Apollo’s kids. He must have been in charge of bringing Luke back from the dead. 

Luke is baffled by the fact that Will is perched here and not Michael Yew, current head of the Apollo cabin, until it occurs to him that Michael is likely dead. That explains the hollows under Will’s eyes, at least, and the undercurrent of hate that Will only barely keeps at bay. Such strong emotions for a boy who’s usually so cheerful. Luke supposes he only has himself to blame for that.

Will may despise Luke all he wishes, but he’s still a doctor at heart. The blond gestures for Luke to lean back down. “If you rip out your stitches and make my work worthless, I’ll kill you myself.” Will says.

Luke arches a brow. “How do I know you won’t do that anyway?”

“I’m still debating,” Will replies pleasantly.

Someone laughs next to him. “Try to stay civil, Solace. Our time for killing is over.”

A camper takes a seat on Luke’s other side. After a few moments of recollection, his addled head realizes that he knows them. That’s Y/N L/N, they’ve been in the Hermes cabin for the longest time, not one of Luke’s half siblings on the godly side but yet another demigod gone unclaimed for years. They used to complain about that to him. He doubts they would repeat the same sentiments now.

Will groans. “Let me at least try to be intimidating, L/N. I only get to do it so often.”

Y/N cracks a grin, then turns to Luke. “I imagine you must have a lot of questions.”

Luke narrows his eyes at them. “Why aren’t I dead?”

Y/N does a superb job of ignoring Will’s clear sentiment that he’d like an answer to that as well, keeping their gaze firmly trained on Luke. “You tried to stop Kronos in the end. Chiron decided that, seeing as you did all that in an effort to protect unclaimed kids and demigods who were ignored by their godly parents, you deserved a second chance.”

“Does anyone other than Chiron actually believe that?” Luke asks pointedly.

Y/N shrugs. “Depends on what you do when you get out of here.”

Will jumps up. “That’s my cue to check on the rest of my suffering patients. You know, the ones that didn’t try to betray us.”

Y/N watches him go. “Ignore him. He’s–”

Luke cuts her off. “Mad that I tried to kill everyone here? I can’t blame him.”

“So you regret what you did?” Y/N questions slowly.

“I don’t regret trying to do something,” Luke says, “only that the gods weren’t as hurt as the demigods. I didn’t want to hurt us, just them. Olympus could use a good scare.”

Thunder rumbles overhead, loud and overbearing. Luke imagines it’s a warning to him:  he’s treading on thin ice by staying alive, he’d better not press his luck by insulting the gods anymore.

Y/N sighs, evidently thinking the same thing. “You wouldn’t be the only one to want the world to change.”

Luke glances over at them. Obviously, he hasn’t seen Y/N since he switched sides, but he had forgotten that they used to be friends. Good friends, too. It’s nice to have at least that back to normal.

“You haven’t been claimed in the last while, have you?” He asks, changing the subject away from more dangerous waters.

Y/N smiles. “Actually, I have. Percy made the gods swear to start claiming more of their kids. I found out about my parentage a few days ago.”

Luke nods solemnly, but doesn’t ask for further details. He made a point of prioritizing the demigod over their godly parent when he was recruiting for Kronos during the war, and he supposes that habit has stuck. It makes him wonder how many more traits of the enemy he won’t ever be able to shake.

“So when do I get out of here?”

Y/N folds their arms across their chest. “Depends on what you mean by getting out of here. You’ll get a clean bill of health within the next day or two, most likely. You won’t be leaving the camp for months, though, if ever.”

The implications of that don’t have to be spoken aloud. Luke messed up, obviously, and so he’ll be on house arrest until the end of time. If he can prove that he’s worth the effort of saving, maybe they’ll let him live his life, but until then he’ll be monitored around the clock.

It’s more than he expected, at any rate. Part of Luke thought that he’d be handed over to some sort of trial once he healed up, made to face his crimes and be overly punished accordingly. That way, the gods could point to him in the decades and centuries to come as proof of why half-bloods should never reach for more than they deserve.

But no, he’ll be living. That’s certainly something. Luke leans back slowly against his cot and ponders this. “Do I get a personal guard or something?”

Y/N lifts a shoulder. “Kind of. You get me. I’m supposed to follow you around and make sure you don’t try to escape.”

Luke snorts. “How’d you get stuck with that job?”

“I asked for it,” Y/N says coolly.

Luke is taken aback. “Why’d you do that?” He can’t imagine anyone in this camp actively trying to bond with him, let alone someone he knew as well as Y/N. Wouldn’t they hate him for betraying them?

They might be just as surprised about it as he is. “I’m not entirely sure. Guess I thought I was the only one who wouldn’t actively try to kill you in your sleep.”

They’re brutal about it, but it’s kind of nice. Honesty is the only sort of medicine that Luke feels like he can stomach right now. Mollycoddling and sugarcoating just serve to waste time.

He half expects Y/N to back out of it, but no, when Luke is declared medically sound and all but forced out of the hospital wing by swordpoint, they’re waiting for him by the door. Luke staggers out into the bright sunlight and looks around like he’s in a dream. The camp has changed since he last saw it. Cabins have sprung up like wildflowers and more are being constructed by the moment.

Y/N notices him staring and gestures towards the new buildings. “See, that’s your doing, even if no one wants to admit it. A ton of new kids have been claimed. Hermes cabin has never been so empty.”

Bitterness surges through Luke’s throat before he can stop it. “I thought that was Percy’s idea.”

Y/N shakes their head. “Percy only got the idea from you. You can make yourself a villain if you want, but you weren’t entirely heartless. You got my godly parent to claim me, and that’s worth a lot.”

Luke smiles to himself as they go. Y/N leads him to the door of their cabin. It’s still cavernously empty compared to the close quarters Luke remembers in Hermes, and he only notices one bunk with belongings on it.

“You’re the only one here?” He asks.

Y/N nods. “So far, at least. I’ve got you now, though. Just as a warning, I will be claiming cabin counselor privileges and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

Luke grins before he realizes it. The expression makes his scar ache, but he finds he doesn’t mind it quite so much as before. “I won’t fight you on that.”

He pulls himself onto the top bunk of one of the many empty rows and surveys his new domain. “Do you think it was worth it? Figuring out who your godly parent was just for them to leave you like this?”

After all, what a life. An empty cabin already collecting dust. It’s cold in here without bodies inside to warm it up. The walls are barren of personal touches. Y/N knows their heritage, yes, and is able to move out of a cabin that was never theirs, but this doesn’t seem like much of a blessing.

Y/N lingers by the foot of Luke’s bunk, and he gestures for them to climb up and join him. They do so in a heartbeat, and then they’re sitting opposite each other, gazes locked and breathing steady.

“It can be lonely,” they admit, “but it’s not so bad. You have hope that it won’t always be this way. Maybe someone will come. Maybe someone already has.”

Luke swallows harshly. “I missed you.”

He blurts it out, hardly aware of what he’s saying. He missed a hell of a lot. Y/N. Laughing at midnight, their whispered words covered up by the sounds of dozens of campers sleeping shoulder to shoulder. Training during the day, the clash of celestial bronze. Orange shirts burning like beacons against their backs. Being able to wear his beaded necklace without feeling like a traitor, even if that’s what he is and always will be.

Y/N leans forward. “I missed you too. I kept hearing about you, which is more than you got of me, but it didn’t feel right. I don’t know where the boy I knew is, if he even exists anymore, but I’d like to try and find him again.”

“I’d like to find him again too,” Luke whispers.

It is the dream of a broken boy bleeding out in the palace of the gods. At this moment, Luke isn’t entirely sure that he didn’t die there in the Olympian throne room. If someone told him that this is what dying is like, conjuring up a vision of what he wishes he could have most of all, Luke would have believed them.

In the end, Luke has no idea if this is real or not. All he can do is keep going, keep waking up each morning to see if he is still in the hazy aftermath of a second chance or finally locked down below in the Underworld. Luke always wanted to try for the Isles of the Blest anyway. Maybe this is just his second life, his second attempt at getting there.

He reaches out on impulse and takes Y/N’s hand. He can feel the blood pumping through their veins, the same certainty as being able to press his fingers against a locked door and know exactly how to break in. This is Luke’s next great trick, but he thinks he’d like to do it right.

“Alright, then,” Luke says at last, “Let’s try again.”

pjo taglist: @w1shes43

[ot3]

finishing up fionna and cake... overall it was a fun ride but i really don't think it worked structurally. 6/10 show. i didnt think this was gonna be a long post but apparently i've got some thoughts. sticking below the cut

this last episode is kind of underwhelming... theres a couple of parts in this ep where they just sit and explain to the camera how simon realized betty was constantly sacrificing her own desires for simon and how simon wanted to put on the crown because he thought he didn't deserve to live. and it's not like those are bad realization for the show to come to but the show has very clearly established that it's intended for a more adult audience than the original adventure time, and so this kind of writing just feels really condescending when not directed at literal children. like yeah we could have figured this out from the writing, but. you didn't have to just tell us

i also didn't vibe with scarab as a villain, he felt super arbitrary to me. like they needed Something to be forcing them to move between dimensions, but i feel like scarab was an extremely meh choice for that. he wasn't particularly funny or interesting enough as a character to get to be one of the only people who showed up in every episode. i honestly think it would have been better if the existential threat these characters were facing was more of a force than a character, because it was already running so tight on time anyway it didn't really have the space to develop a good villain.

gary and marshall's screentime was another thing that i felt like is a huge waste of space. them doing their whole meet cute bakery au romance is something that's funny on paper but it's not compelling on its own and the only slight interest it has comes from our pre-existing investment in marceline and bubblegum's much more interesting dynamic. it didn't add anything to the overall arc of the show and took up time that could have been used to deliver more solidly on the core premise.

fionna and cake themselves were really cute but i don't feel like fionna's arc was as strong as it could have been. like ohhh yay shes come to love her normal world with all its imperfections.... obviously thats where it was going the whole time and once again. its not like i mind that ending. i just feel like they didn't do anything interesting with it. her character doesn't get to learn and progress as much as she's just marching down a straight path that we all already knows where it leads. i wish they would have just called the show 'Simon' so i wouldn't have to feel so disappointed in this.

adventure time has always been on the cutting edge of bizarre stuff in animation so the biggest let down overall with this show is how much when you strip away the Adventure Time coating of surrealist visuals on top of it it just feels like any other middling adventure cartoon. it didn't lean enough into the episodic structure to benefit from that the way the original show did, and it was too beholden on the episodic structure to linger on any of the parts that were actually compelling.

overall, the show feels like pandering to the adventure time fanbase, but in kind of a lazy way. Compare this to the distant land specials which I think were pandering in an excellent way. im not anti pandering by any means. The whirlwind tour through universes and characters that lifetime adventure time fans will recognize tries to come off as a love letter to the series, but instead just comes off as the adventure time version of that 'rejected ready player one theme song' video. remember farmworld? remember prismo? remember the vampire king? remember shermy and beth? remember Up a Tree? like. yeah. i do remember. thanks. do you have anything to say about any of this stuff or - oh. no. just showing me. got it.

its not someting i think i'll ever rewatch but at just ten eps definitely worth one watch through. theres some really good fun to be had in it and the art is gorgeous all the way through, it just fails to come together into a successful complete work.

[mushroomwoods]

wounded bird

Sky is nothing short of loving, especially when his loved one comes down with a sickness.

character — sky, romantic.

cw — none, pure fluff, sickfic.

the client wish, the client has. for my dearest @yourlocaltreesimp, who seems to be suffering right now. i hope you get well soon, darling, but if i discover you were reading this while you had a headache instead of going to sleep, I'll chase you fr. watch out, fir. also, I've mever written a sickfic so forgive me if it's not good enough hakdbdk.

To say your vision was blurry was an understatement, things were so mushed up together in your vision that you weren't even able to notice when someone entered the room you were staying in the inn, hadn't they made enough noise to wake up a whole battalion.

You could hear a soft swear, though it wasn't anything nearly as colorful as the one Legend used to spew when things didn't go his way in battle, but this was enough to tell you just who it was.

“Sky?” Your voice was hoarse, far more than you could remember before you went to bed. Actually, just how did you get in bed?

Before your mind could wander any further, a cool hand made contact with your forehead, the feeling immediately lightening your mood up as you pressed further into the calloused touch.

“[name], [name], wild made a light soup for you.” His voice was soft as a whisper, mindful of the way your ears were ringing.

He said nothing when you lightly shook your head, and when you saw him turning back, you figured he would go back to the group, so you closed your eyes.

A few hushed voices sounded by the door, but you could barely tell what they were saying, not that you cared when your head was ringing so much. Just as you were ready to turn your back and try to drift back to sleep, the mattress dipped beside you, the hand returning to your face.

“[name], dear. I'm gonna sit you up, okay?” Sky didn't wait for an answer, warm arms wrapping around your body as he carefully lifted you up, you head resting against his chest as he shushed any groans of pain that fell from your lips. “Have some water, please.”

He lightly tapped at your lips, refusing to give you the cup even when you tried to take it from his hands, a quiet “let me help you, dove” whispered at your ear. He tipped the cup in your lips, the liquid bringing you a faint sense of relief for a brief second.

“More?” He asked and only then you noticed just how thirsty you must've been, mouth still dry. You nodded and he repeated the process all over again, as many times as you wished.

You could see from the corner of your eyes how he smiled softly, a hint of sadness permeating his touches as his patience never wavered while he helped you.

When you laid back onto the bed, his hand took yours in a warm embrace, his voice quiet as he told you about how the day had gone without you around, about how he missed you the whole time he to spend apart from you and how he wished you'd never have to go through any sufferings, no matter how small it was.

He smiled every time you laughed at something he said and nodded along when you made small breathy additions.

He stood by your side until your haggard breath turned into soft snores, only then letting go of your hand and getting up from the floor he sat upon, kissing your forehead and then going out again.

The whole week was spent at such fashion, and even when you said you didn't want to bother him, Sky's only answer was to smile whilst saying that helping his love would never be a bother.

On the last day, Sky deemed that you were already healthy enough for him to at least get his so desired cuddles, his body pressing tightly against yours in the small inn bed.

“You're gonna get sick.” You said, voice lethargic from how much rest you had over the last few days.

“No worries, dove. I'm strong enough.” His hands caressed your hair, your face flushed against his chest hearing the light thundering in his ribcage as he talked.

“I missed you so much, dove. To have you by my side.” His voice was muffled above your head, heart racing a little from what you could feel. “I hope you never get sick again, my dear.”

You hummed in answer, mind already far off into dreamland, his voice lowering significantly as he lulled you to sleep with his soothing voice and calming touch.

“Good night, my dear, get well soon.”

[unseededtoast]

Turtle Doves | Joel Miller

Part Seven

Chapter Directory

Series Summary: In which two broken souls connect so deeply, that if one should perish, the other would surely die of a broken heart. (slow burn, timeline changes. After TLOU1, before TLOU2, assumed knowledge of infected, uses elements from both show and game)

Series Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, death, and sexual content.

Also cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. Link to my masterlist for everything else I’ve posted!

"When they return, I'll be waiting for them."

The eerie silence of the night amplifies every little noise. Joel managed to fall asleep about an hour ago, and each time he moves or readjusts, fear strikes me. For some reason, my mind is convinced that more infected are in here, when I know they're not. If they were, they would have made themselves known by now.

Looking back out of the window, I readjust the way I'm sitting because my legs have gone numb. My eyes burn from forcing myself to stay awake, but each time I close my eyes I'm haunted by images of the dead children. I tap my fingertips on the floor as I keep close eye on the horizon, looking for anything to signify life. My chest rises and falls dramatically as I sigh in frustration and disappointment.

Standing from the ground, I pace around the small corner I've confined myself to for Joel's comfort. I knew that he'd never let himself be lulled to sleep if I stayed close, he seems to be well guarded and generally untrusting. So I was surprised when I glanced over and saw his eyes closed and head leaned against the wall a few hours ago. Only the muffled sound of my boots hitting the floor can be heard, and I'm sure it's not loud enough to wake him.

My mind begins working through different scenarios once more. Like what is my next move if the killers don't start a fire tonight? How am I going to determine which way to go? I can't just guess at it, that would be a massive waste of time and would put me in unnecessary danger. My eyes drift back to the large windows on the wall, wishing and hoping that I'd finally see something. Each time I look and see nothing, a small part of my strong resolve dissolves.

Yawning, I find my fingers fiddling with my necklace, trying to keep myself inspired to stay here and see this through instead of feeding into my disappointment and going back to the QZ.

"Why don't we trade off?" Joel's voice startles me. My body jumps involuntarily at the unexpected sound and I look over to him, the moonlight illuminating half of his face. Once my heartbeat has settled to a semi-regular pace, I shake my head,

"No that's okay. You get more sleep, I'll be just fine." My voice is rough from staying silent for so long. Joel looks out the window.

"You haven't slept all night. You really think you can keep goin' like this?" His voice is deep and quiet, his dark eyes meet mine through the shadows. A part of me knows he's right, I can't keep functioning at my fullest capacity with limited sleep.

"I'm gonna have to." I say, my words betraying what I know is right. For some reason, I know I would feel bad if I took him up on his offer. This isn't his fight, he shouldn't have to stay awake for my sake. He shakes his head,

"You say that 'til you're face to face with death because your judgment is impaired and you make a simple mistake." It almost sounds like he's speaking from experience. I walk closer to him so that our voices can stay quiet, just in case there is something lurking around in here that we didn't see.

"But that won't be on you. And besides, this was my idea, I can't pass off my responsibility to you. You'll need the rest for your trip." I say, tucking my necklace back underneath my shirt. He stares at me for a long while, like he's trying to figure me out.

"Who are you after?" He asks. I shrug my shoulders,

"I don't know. Well, you heard what I said back at James' place, three kids were killed. They were all assaulted and mutilated. One of them died in my arms. And I had even checked that area not fifteen minutes earlier." My voice trails off as I remember the poor girl's last breaths and her blood smearing on my arms as she grasped at them for help. My gaze finds its way down to the ground and I blink away the tears.

"Who were those kids to you?" He asks, his voice sounding softer than it was a few minutes ago. I pick my eyes back up and stare straight ahead out at the city.

"I didn't know them. But nobody deserves that end, especially not kids." I say and turn my head to look at him. He just nods.

"Sleep. I'll look for them." He says and stands from his position on the ground. I shake my head and cross my arms, prepared to stand my ground on this one. I'm not sure why I'm so concerned with this stranger's wellbeing, but I can't find it in myself to be selfish and accept his offer.

"No it's oka-"

"No. Sleep. You'll need the energy." He doesn't let me finish my sentence before he turns his back on me and goes to look out the window.

I take his spot up against the wall, and lean my head back. If he's so insistent on it, then I guess I shouldn't fight it. He knows his capabilities and it's not my job to take care of him. My eyes close and the silence welcomes me to sleep quickly, maybe I needed this more than I thought.

"Hey." A shove on my shoulder wakes me and my eyes fly open. Quickly, I look around, not recognizing my surroundings. I find Joel's face above me, he's standing right beside me and must have nudged my shoulder with his leg.

"What?" I ask, suddenly alert and aware of where I am. I stand from my spot and follow him over to the window, where he presses a finger to the glass, pointing off in the distance. I follow his finger and see what I've been looking for all night. A plume of black smoke is rising to the sky.

My jaw sets tight as I watch the smoke dissipate in the air. The rising sun is visible on the horizon, I must have been out for a few hours. My arms cross in front of my chest and I make note of where it's coming from, and what streets I need to take to get there. If I leave now, there's a good chance I'll be able to reach them before they abandon their camp.

Turning away from Joel, I grab my backpack that I had put in my corner last night. I shrug it over my shoulders and tighten the straps so that the weight is evenly distributed. My boots feel like they might be getting a touch loose, so I bend down and tighten the laces. Once I'm sure I'm ready to leave, I take a centering breath and go over to Joel and extend a hand.

"Pleasure doing business with you." I say with a small smile, appreciating his willingness to stay with me. He looks down at my hand and back out the window.

"The smoke was to the west, the way I'm headed back home." Is all he says and I awkwardly drop my hand back down to my side. My eyebrows scrunch together, not entirely understanding what he's implying.

"You could go around, might add a mile or two to your trip though." I say, glancing back at the smoke plume. Joel takes a moment to look back out at the smoke before he nods his head and holds his hand out. I take it and give him the firmest handshake I can.

The two of us turn and make our way back down to the street, the sun quickly rising in the sky. If I can pull this off well, I might even be back home before sundown. Off in the distance, I can still see the smoke. Joel and I turn to one another before we part our ways.

"Stay safe out there." I say with a small smile, hoping that his trip is uninterrupted and goes well for him. He's probably got a family waiting for him, and they deserve to have him back. He gives me a curt nod,

"Good luck." Is all he says before we embark on our separate journeys.

I begin walking towards the smoke and try to get into a fighter's mindset. It's not only the people I have to worry about out here on the streets. I push every other thought out of my mind and try to get back into the headspace I had years ago when I had to fight the infected every day on patrols. They're quick and they're strong. So, I have to be quicker and smarter if I want to live. The same goes for dealing with the killers.

My stomach twists the closer I get to the smoke. I don't like that I'm essentially going in blind, who knows how many there are. It would be in my best interest to try and pull this off stealthily. If I can find some sort of vantage point before I get too close to scope out the camp that would be best. It would be really nice if I had a rifle with me, then I could find somewhere up high to camp out and take them out like that. But unfortunately, rifles are very difficult to find nowadays, even more so now that the arms trade has slowed in Boston.

I keep moving forward until I find myself close enough to the smoke where I can smell it. Taking a look around, I find an old store off to the right where I should be able to get a good angle on their camp. Swiftly and quietly, I make my way to the store with no interruptions and carefully step through the broken glass door. I'm careful to keep my footsteps level and close to the ground, so that the glass shards don't make too much noise.

The store looks like it had been ransacked years ago, and is now a mess of tipped shelves and useless products. As I make my way to the back of the store, I look at the discarded items, making sure there's nothing of use that I can grab. But it looks like all that remains are empty boxes and various electronics. Nothing that I can immediately use to my advantage. The back of the store houses the roof access point and I climb the ladder, pushing the entrance open with a small squeak.

Sunlight blinds me as I step out onto the roof and I quickly crouch down so that any wandering eyes won't be able to spot me. From my vantage point, I see a small camp. There's one tent set up and a smoldering fire in the center, billowing white smoke now that it has been put out. Squinting my eyes, I see one person standing around. But nobody else.

My blood runs cold, that has to be the killer. Or at least one of them. Maybe the other one is off patrolling the area or something. If I can go take that one out, then the other should be no problem. However, it all seems too simple, too easy. Something just doesn't feel right to me. But, maybe I'm just overthinking this and it really is going to be this simple.

I wait for a few more minutes before I leave the rooftop, just to be sure nobody else is going to show up. I don't hear anyone in the distance, so I have to guess that the coast is clear, or at least will be clear enough for me to get down there and take down the person I saw.

I stay crouched as I make my way to the camp, grabbing the curved blade out of my belt and holding it tightly in my hand. All of my focus is on staying quiet and making smart moves. My mouth goes dry as I approach the edge of the camp. Hiding behind a building, I peek out to make sure nobody else somehow showed up.

The same person is standing by their tent with their back facing me. It strikes me as odd, but maybe they got their hands on some pills and are too spaced out to know what's going on. Before I leave my cover behind the building, I close my eyes and say a silent prayer with shaky breaths.

My eyes open and I'm focused on one thing only. To kill the man that stands a few feet from me. I turn the corner and take calculated steps, avoiding debris on the ground. My breath is silent, but my heartbeat sounds incredibly loud. The man isn't turning around, he's standing oddly still and it sends a familiar panic through my body.

I freeze in my tracks as my boot steps on a rogue twig, probably meant to fuel the fire but never got used. Within the blink of an eye, the man turns around and it doesn't take me long to register that he's not alive, well, not humanly. The man's reanimated body screams out and runs toward me, hands outreached to grab me.

I dodge his swing and plunge my knife towards his head. The recently-turned man is fast, and my knife only catches a few inches of his throat. I don't have enough time to react to the missed slash before I'm tackled to the ground, the man's teeth inch closer and closer to my neck as I try to fight him off.

My panic somehow makes me more focused, and old maneuvers feel like muscle memory. I bring my knee up and hit the man, throwing off the equilibrium so I can get the upper hand. As he's thrown off balance, I use the momentum from my kick to bring my body above his, my hips straddling his torso. Without thinking, I raise my knife and bring it down into the man's head. His body goes limp and twitches as he dies once again.

Blood splatters my hands and forearms as I pull the knife from the man's skull. I use the man's green shirt to clean my blade and then I stand from the ground, looking down at the corpse. He looks recently turned, maybe a few hours old at this point. Turning around, I look for any more runners that may have been tipped off to the struggle, but find nothing except empty streets and silence.

Taking advantage of an empty camp, I start rummaging around for anything they left behind. I check the man's pockets first, finding nothing but an old cigarette. Next, I search the tent and find an old map shoved underneath the sleeping bag. Unfolding the map, I see several marks on it.

The Boston QZ is circled, and I see a few other cities with the same circle. Other places are marked with the Firefly symbol. Sprinkled throughout the country there are some areas marked with stars. One location is marked with a large 'T'.  There's no indication of what these symbols mean, but I can deduce some things from common sense. I can only guess that the circles represent QZ areas and the Firefly symbol is where known Firefly outposts are; that much is fairly obvious. The T might represent where these people came from, but it's all the way out in Nebraska. As for the stars, I don't have the faintest idea.

I fold the map up and put it in my bag to study later once I'm not out in the open. The rest of the tent holds nothing of value to me and so I move out and check the fire. There are scraps of paper in there mixed with twigs. Reaching in, I grab the largest scraps I can find, and see that there's only a few legible words left on each. The one scrap says "eliminate" and the other says "immune".

Moving on and not dwelling on what those words might mean, I tear apart the rest of the camp to look for anything useful. Beside the fire there's a second sleeping bag and I reach my hand down in it, pulling out another piece of paper. These people love writing notes to one another it seems.

The words on the paper are a lot more useful than the scraps I found in the fire. I read it quickly and read it a second time, not believing what I'm seeing. The note is almost like an instruction guide. It tells whoever was here what their mission was. It looks like their mission was to hit all the QZ's in the northeastern part of the United States and kill children between the ages of thirteen and seventeen indiscriminately. It doesn't say why, but on the bottom of the paper the Firefly logo is drawn.

I put the paper in my bag along with the scraps and map. What do the Fireflies have to do with this? Going back to the man's body, I look for the telltale sign of the Fireflies, but see no pendant around the man's neck. But what I do find is the letter 'T' carved into the skin of his chest.

Making sure there's nothing else to find in the camp, I move on so that if someone does come by I'm not caught off guard. I return to the store rooftop to monitor the camp some more. If someone does come back, they'll need to be killed for their involvement as well. Nobody is going to be spared from this group if I can help it.

The sunlight begins fading, and it's becoming abundantly clear to me that nobody is coming back to this camp. Infected probably came by and they scrambled, leaving their friend to his undead fate.

Back on the move, I decide to go west. I know there's more of these people out here and if I'm right about the map, they might be going back to where they came from in Nebraska. And even if they aren't going there now, they will eventually. And when they return, I'll be waiting for them.