#If there's spelling or grammar errors...whoops

[mermaidslabyrinth]

Rhagerys rejects sex from the WIP ask game?

Thank you so much for your interest.

I said I'd post three snippets, I'm posting three. I apologize if it's long. But it was hard to cut some parts and have it make sense. Also, I will never have the story fully written or published. So the little snippets I have I'll gladly show off.

A little information first:

Rhagerys and Daemon’s relationship boils down to: “When I’m with you I have no responsibilities, no obligations, it’s just you and me. I can fuck with abandonment and without repercussions.” Daemon got a grin on his face. “I can use you in ways I need.” <Actual dialogue in my story>. While Rhagerys just wants to please and be a ‘good boy’.

Late Winter 131 AC. [My timeline] Rhagerys is 15. Daemon is 51 [I made his birthdate the same Matt’s]. Rhagerys only calls Daemon ‘Kepa’ when it’s just the two of them.

TW: Obvious sexual relationship between father/son. Nothing graphic. Hints though. Child abuse.

<Scene: Rhagerys stands up for himself and tells his father that what they have involves two people, not one. So he pushes his father away.>

Daemon turned his head slowly towards Rhagerys as he held his left cheek. A look of surprise mixed with anger was on his face. His son had just hit him. A small part of Daemon was impressed, but only a small part. He stared intently at his son. There was a piercing danger in them. Rhagerys recoiled just a little and casted his eyes downward. “You get one.” Daemon lowly warned.

“I'm sorry, Kepa.” Rhagerys whispered again.

Daemon was upon Rhagerys in an instant. He started to hit his son upside his head and his face. 

Rhagerys did his best to block the hits. “Stop. I'm sorry.” Rhagerys backed away from his father.

Daemon ignored his son and pushed him back to the bed. He shoved his son down upon it and crawled on top of him. He continued to hit him upside the face.

Rhagerys threw his hands up to block his father's slaps. “Stop. I apologized.” Rhagerys tried to have a firm voice.

Daemon stopped and held Rhagerys's arms down by his wrists. “You do not hit me.” His voice was stern and tense.

Rhagerys’s eyes locked with his father’s. “I did not mean to. I was just so frustrated.” Rhagerys jerked his head to the side. “You don't care about me.”

Daemon smiled but also furrowed his brow in confusion. “What?” His hands loosened their strong grip on his son’s wrists. “Of course I care about you.”

Rhagerys turned his head to face his father once again. “No you do not. You said 'what about you?'. You don't care about what I want.”

Daemon laughed. Rhagerys's face fell. “I said that in jest.” Daemon let go of Rhagerys's wrists but stayed straddling his son.

Rhagerys pulled his arms over his chest. As a some sort of flimsy barrier. “I did not, do not find it funny.” Sadness was in Rhagerys's voice. He lifted his hands and gently put them on his father's chest. “Get off me.” He gave a very light push.

Daemon didn't move. He kept smiling down at Rhagerys.

“Get off me.” Rhagerys pushed his father with a little more force.

“No.” Daemon said with a shake of his head. His smile slowly left his face. “Calm down.”

Rhagerys's jaw shifted. He was getting upset. “Kepa, get off of me.”

“Or what?” Daemon reached his right hand down and took Rhagerys's chin in it. He leaned down just a little. He then moved his thumb to Rhagerys's bottom lip. He ran it lightly over it. That was when Rhagerys struck. “FUCK!” Daemon jolted up and quickly moved from straddling Rhagerys to standing beside the bed.

Rhagerys lifted himself up on his elbows. He glared up at his father. “I told you to get off of me.”

Daemon looked down at his thumb then towards Rhagerys. “You fucking bit me!” Daemon hissed out angrily.

“And I will do it again if you come near me.” Rhagerys warned as he hastily moved to stand on the opposite side of the bed. “I told you I wasn't in the mood tonight. Come near me and I will start throwing fists as well.”

Father and son stared each other down. Rhagerys cracked first.

“I love you, Kepa. I enjoy what we do. But you never take my needs into consideration.” Rhagerys’s shoulders slumped. “I deserve that much. You only care about your needs.”

“I take care of you. Do I not?” Daemon absently ran his left thumb over his injured right. “You have never complained before.”

“If I did, you would just ignore me.” Rhagerys started to run his thumbs over his fingers. He was trying his best to calm himself down. “You being bitten proves it. I told you ‘not tonight’.”

Daemon noticed the little movement. He understood what that meant. He knew Rhagerys was almost at a breaking point. “I have needs.” He leaned forward just a little. He made sure Rhagerys was looking into his eyes. “And you enjoy yourself, do you not?”

“I-I have needs as well.” Rhagerys kept rubbing his thumbs over his fingers, trying to keep himself calm. “You ignore mine. All you care about is yourself. You can't keep ignoring me.” Rhagerys had hint of anger in his voice as he stood firmly and stared down his father.

Daemon smiled sardonically at his son. A thought started to form in his head. “Is that so?” He stood to his full height.

“No. You can't ignore me.” Rhagerys responded in a calmer voice.

Daemon hummed and smiled at the challenge Rhagerys had unknowingly set out before him. Daemon offhandedly nodded his head and turned to leave.

Author's Note: Rhagerys has a calming technique and it helps center him the best it is able to in most situations. And so began seven days of Daemon ignoring his son. Manipulating him. Daemon is a charismatic dick, a petulant child, a dark manipulator in my story. [And I have so much fun writing him like that].

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

<Scene: Rhagerys tracks down Daemon to apologize and let it be forgotten>

“K-Kepa.” Rhagerys gasped out as he bowed his head.

Daemon made no move to acknowledge Rhagerys. He walked past his son and went to find a book.

Rhagerys turned around and watched his father take a seat. He walked to the door, peaked his head out into the hallway, and made sure there was no one coming or going. It was clear. Rhagerys turned back around and walked a little into the library. He took a deep breath in. He knew now would be a good time as ever to apologize. “Kepa, I would like to apologize for how I acted last night.” Rhagerys started to fiddle with his fingers. “Also for what I said.”

Daemon didn’t say anything. He continued to read his book.

Rhagerys furrowed his brow but pressed on. “I should have never hit you. I should have not bit you. Or threatened to punch you.”

Still not a word from Daemon.

Rhagerys lowered his head trying to figure out what to do. “The words I said, I should not have.” Rhagerys paused. “Even though I would like you to,” Rhagerys swallowed slightly. “…please me.” Rhagerys whispered the last two words out. “I should have asked properly. I should not have said such terse words towards you. I should have came to you and had an actual conversation.” Rhagerys bowed his head. “I am sorry.”

The only movement that came from Daemon was he turned the page to the book he was reading.

Rhagerys stood quietly. He waited for his father’s response. It was not coming. Rhagerys started to chew his lip. He started to get nervous. He didn’t understand what was going on. “Kepa?”

Nothing.

Rhagerys nodded to himself. He somewhat accepted that his father did not want to talk about the night before. He decided that maybe if he moved on to the next subject that would get his father’s attention. “I am going to go ride Starsong now. Did you want to join me on Caraxes? Like you have done many times before?”

Daemon just turned the page of the book he was supposedly reading.

Rhagerys furrowed his brow again but this time in confusion with a little bit of anger. He pressed on. “W-we could go somewhere on them. A small island. Fly near Driftmark.” Rhagerys gave a quick shrug of his shoulders. “Even fly up by Claw Isle. You can decide where.”

Daemon kept ignoring his son.

Rhagerys was getting frustrated. As well as a little hurt. “Kepa?”

Daemon ignored Rhagerys.

Rhagerys dropped his hands down to his sides. “Kepa?” He clenched his fists.

Daemon turned the page to the book.

Rhagerys shifted his jaw just a little. “Kepa?” His voice came out a little higher than usual. Rhagerys was becoming desperate. He wanted his father to answer him. No matter how brief the acknowledgment would be.

Daemon shifted and turned a little away from Rhagerys.

That movement made Rhagerys realize what was going on. He told his father he ‘could not ignore him’ and his father was going to show him that he absolutely could.

Rhagerys’s body sank down in utter dejection. “All right.” Rhagerys whispered as he nodded his head. He cleared his throat. “I…I will take my leave. I am going to go ride Starsong now.” Rhagerys looked towards his father. Daemon turned even more from him. Rhagerys bowed his head and left the room. Defeated.

<Rhagerys was taught to always bow his head to Daemon when either one enters a room or leaves a room.>

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

<Scene: Rhagerys is the library. Daemon makes his move>

Rhagerys quickly whipped his head back around. His father was right behind him, pretending to look for a book. He was mere inches from him. To the point where he was boxing Rhagerys into the bookshelf. He had two options, ask his father to move or stand up and knock him out of the way. Rhagerys refused to speak to his father, so there was only one thing he could do. If he stood up quickly maybe he would knock his father back or even better to the floor. Rhagerys was frustrated enough that he felt his father deserved the second. Instead, Rhagerys slinked to his left and half crawled half side stepped to get away from his father.

Daemon looked down at his son. What he was witnessing was not something he thought he would ever see. His, over six foot tall, son was practically on the floor, hunched down and crawling away from him. Daemon's eyes followed Rhagerys as he got far enough away to where he could stand to his full height. After Rhagerys had done so, he quickly rushed off to the other side of the bookshelf. It took everything in Daemon to not laugh loudly at just how pathetic his son was being.

Rhagerys made his way to the other side of the bookshelf and let out a frustrated sigh. He knew his father did that on purpose. He wanted to confront him so badly but he knew that was what his father wanted. Instead, Rhagerys went back to looking for a book. He browsed the titles and just was not finding anything. He, begrudgingly, decided on the fishing book. Rhagerys went back to where the book was, to where his father was still standing. He decided to press on. He was not going to cower anymore.

Daemon saw Rhagerys coming towards him. He was expecting his son to say some hollow words meant to be harsh. But instead of confronting him, Rhagerys went right beside him and reached for a book. Daemon had to turn his head so Rhagerys would not see the eye roll and sarcastic smile. He was about to move closer into Rhagerys’s space but something moving in the hallway caught his eye.

“Jace!”

Rhagerys slightly jumped at hearing his father call out. He just as quickly drew in on himself at hearing who his father was calling for. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Jace entered the room.

“Daemon.” Jace acknowledged.

The two stepbrothers made quick eye contact then averted their eyes from one another.

“Jace, just the person I wanted to see.” Daemon laid the lie on thick. He walked away from the bookshelf

Rhagerys narrowed his eyes at hearing that.

“Really?”

Rhagerys could hear the utter surprise in Jace’s voice. He knew his father never wanted to see Jace. They were cordial to one another at the most. Rhagerys tilted his head to where he could just see the interaction between stepfather and stepson.

Daemon gave a little scoff. “Of course,” Daemon clasped a hand upon Jace’s shoulder. “I was about to ride Caraxes, get out of the castle for a little while. Would you like to join me on Vermax?”

Rhagerys dropped the book he had in his hand. It hit the floor with a thud. He looked over to where Jace and his father stood.

Jace stared back at his stepbrother. Almost too scared to answer. “What about Rh-” Jace began.

Daemon removed his hand from Jace’s shoulder. “If you do not want to I will be on my way.” Daemon pressed cutting Jace off. He started to nonchalantly make his way out of the room.

“No!” Jace gestured for Daemon not to move. “I’ll go. Let me change into my riding clothes.” Jace was practically vibrating with excitement at the chance to be able to fly with Daemon on dragonback.

Daemon He looked towards where Rhagerys had stood silently. “I will be waiting.” He smirked.

Rhagerys’s eyes connected with his father’s. He saw the absolute smugness in them. The absolute confidence on his father’s face. Daemon was challenging him to do something. Anything. Rhagerys turned his head from the two. He took a sharp breath in as he bit the inside of his cheek. Hard. He could feel tears prick the corner of his eyes. He did not know why this is what upset him. Over the past six days, all that he went through, this is what broke him. Rhagerys did not care about books anymore. He turned towards the door and desperately wanted to make his escape.

Jace flinched as Rhagerys walked by him. On some level he was afraid that Rhagerys would have taken a swing at him as he left. He relaxed just as quickly when Rhagerys didn’t even acknowledge him.

Daemon watched calmly as Rhagerys made a hasty exit. He had a beyond cocky look on his face. To Dameon, what just happened needed to be done to make Rhagerys crumble. Now, Daemon just had to come back from the dragon riding and confront Rhagerys in his chambers. Let his son apologize for the past six days of the nonsense that went on.

Author's Note: By this time Jace had been beaten up by Rhagerys at least two times. So, he knows what his stepbrother is capable of when angered. And that’s where I’ll leave it. This is honestly one of my favorite snippets/chapters that I have wrote. It helped me really get into Rhagerys and Daemon’s psyches and how unhealthy they are when it comes to the other.

[aziawow]

now that we're here... (benny weir x f!reader) nsfw, 6.6k words

summary: in the heat of the moment, you and benny sleep together. you don't even kiss. a devilish plot (and teenage awkwardness) keeps you from talking to him about that night. the solution, however, might just be part of the very thing you're avoiding.

warnings: nsfw, loss of virginity, unprotected sex (DO NOT EVER HAVE UNPROTECTED SEX!!! USE A CONDOM EVERY SINGLE TIME!!!), implied reader isn't a virgin, blood, language, devil mention, implied animal abuse, death (of ocs), panic attack. if there are any other warnings please let me know so i can add

notes: no use of y/n, she/her reader, can also double as a rory x platonic!reader bc they're such besties. this fic is so fun pls give it a read!

You’re not entirely sure how it happens. Seriously. Yes, you’re super ultra mega attracted to Benny, but you never expected this to happen, especially as suddenly as it did. 

You’re a planner, extremely detail oriented, and you’re almost never taken by surprise. Impulsivity isn’t you, it’s Benny. So what made you throw caution into the wind and do this? 

You’re not even together; you didn’t even kiss. 

Suffice to say, you’re freaking the fuck out. 

***

You and Benny are chilling together, watching a movie on his bed. It’s rare for you two to be alone, but Ethan had to help his parents with whatever, Rory was doing whatever Rory does, and Sarah and Erica were having fun in town. They invited you, but with the supernatural craziness of the last few days, you just wanted a quiet night in for once. 

Years of familiarity resulted in you and Benny being pretty comfortable with each other, so you were cuddled together, you mostly on top of Benny while you both made fun of the movie and stuffed your faces with popcorn. 

You think it happens because you got thirsty. 

One second you’re reaching across Benny to grab your drink, then another has Benny hissing through his teeth and grabbing you. He held you still, and you glanced up. 

His eyes were squeezed shut, and a peculiar red flush adorned his face. His breathing was quickened, and he was practically shaking. 

Startled by his behavior, you sat up, still half on his lap and completely oblivious. 

“Benny, what’s wrong?” You place the back of your hand on his cheek, thinking he might have a temperature. Hot, but not feverish. You scoot forward a little to reach his forehead, and Benny gasps. 

“Please,” he strains, “stop moving.” 

Your eyebrows knit together. He was making no sense. “What…”

Then, you feel it. 

Your leg was brushing against his very prominent, very hard, erection. 

“Oh,” you gulp.

Benny’s eyes spring open, his mouth starts to move, but he can’t seem to say anything. You know he’d try to shrug this off, tell you it’ll go away, and apologize to lessen the sheer awkwardness of the moment. 

You don’t want him to. 

His lips are parted, panting quietly, face blushing the prettiest red you’ve ever seen, skin sheening with sweat, and his eyes? One part horrified and the other completely and utterly aroused. 

You really don’t want to waste this moment. 

Without thinking, you place a hand on his upper thigh. Firm enough to not get lost in translation but gentle so he could brush you away if he didn’t want this after all.

Your eyes meet, confusion and hope and desperation swimming in his. Slowly, you slide your hand upward, waiting for him to swat you away. 

He doesn’t. 

When you reach his front, you apply pressure and palm him through his pants. 

Benny groans delectably, and his eyes roll to the back of his head. 

You can feel yourself get wet at his reaction, the burn between your legs throbbing as the seconds pass. The fact that one little touch from you elicits a response like this makes your veins rush with power. 

Then, he moans your name. 

You’re done playing. You unzip his jeans and push them down. Benny, who has all but collapsed on his pillows, eagerly helps you slip the rest of it off. 

You climb on him again, fully this time, and take him into your hands. You pump him a few times, having to wet your hands with your spit. He’s shaking under you, making these small pathetic noises that have you grinding on his thigh. 

He’s lasting for a lot longer than you expect a teenage boy to, especially a virgin. 

Benny surprises you yet again by sitting up abruptly, and you let him go. He takes his shirt off, and when it’s discarded somewhere on his messy floor, he presses your foreheads together, mouths breathing into each other but not quite touching. 

His hands play with the hem of your shirt.

“Benny,” you moan, when his fingers disappear under the fabric and press against your hot skin. 

“Can I take this off?” He asks, throat raspy and deep. You nod at him, and your top joins his on the floor before you can blink.

Your hands roam each other’s bodies, just feeling and squeezing. Benny nuzzles your neck and collarbones, pressing kisses and leaving nips here and there. You grip his hair and pull, feeling the whine of pleasure Benny lets out against your skin.

After a few moments of this, you realize Benny is nearly naked, and you still have your pants on. You pull away from him and sit up higher on your knees. When Benny realizes your next course of action, he wastes no time in helping you rid yourself from your pants, and when they’re gone, he grabs a handful of your ass and blinks up at you, wide and ready. 

You reach behind your back and unhook your bra, peeling it off slowly, almost painfully so, for Benny. You toss it aside, and all he can do is stare. 

You reach for his hands and place them on your breasts. When he starts to feel you up and squeeze, you throw your head back and keen at the sensation. 

“Fuck,” you gasp. You look down at Benny, and he’s peering up at you through his dark lashes with nothing but want behind his eyes. Instinctively, you pull his head to your chest, and your pleasure multiplies when Benny immediately starts licking and sucking and kissing you all over. 

Your legs are delightfully weak at this point, so you push Benny back down on the sheets and fall on top of him. You’re still touching each other and it feels like he’s become a second skin. You hardly register his hand going further down until it rests on your lower abdomen, toying with your panty line.

“Can I touch you?” he all but pleads, and who were you to deny him? 

You’re nearly sobbing when he slips his fingers into your folds, feeling the wetness he caused. You can tell he’s trying to finger your clit, so you decide to be a good partner and guide him to its location. You shudder when he finally finds it on his own and begins to rub, the friction nearly too much for you. 

You’re kissing and biting his skin, one hand gripping his sheets and the other skimming along his chest, your nails scratching and digging into him. You grind back on his hand, so he picks up the pace and you know right then you’re about to cum. 

“Benny,” you warn. “Benny, don’t stop.” 

He doesn’t, and you cry into his neck when you orgasm on his fingers. 

You both lay there panting, but you have no time to bask in the afterglow when you remember he hasn’t came yet. 

You get on your hands and knees above Benny, and you lower your face to his, still not touching except your hair brushing his. 

“Do you want me?” you ask. You want him. You want him so bad you don’t know what you’d do if he said no. 

He nods, and your heart flutters. 

“No,” you whisper. “I need to hear you say it.”

He nods again. “Yes. Yes I do. Please,” he begs. He starts to babble his affirmation and continues to do so when you get your underwear and his boxers off. You grip him and slick his head up with your juices, and when you finally sink down, Benny shuts up and you both sigh as you seat him fully inside you. 

You start to rock, fucking yourself with his cock and feeling so, so good. Benny’s hands find your hips and together, you find a pace as you ride him. Your hands are on his chest as you slide up and down on him. He begins to feel you again, your torso, your breasts, shoulders, and hair. You don’t want him to stop exactly, because it makes the pleasure increase tenfold, but you’re in control, and it's so hot when Benny does what you want. 

You grab his wrist and pin them on either side of his head, and the flash of lust in his eyes as you do so makes you smirk. 

You keep holding him down as you pump in and out of him, as you rock against him, but after a while your legs begin to ache. Benny, feeling you slow down, takes the reins. 

You let him go, and he wraps an arm around your body, pulling you down flush against him. The other hand weaves through your hair, angling your head once more into the crook of his neck. Holding you tight, he fucks up into you, and you feel something you never have before. 

For a virgin, he’s a natural at this. Your bodies know what they want and how to get it, the carnal desire guiding you the whole way. You can feel him pulse inside you, and you know you’re both about to cum when his thrusts grow quicker. 

“Benny,” you moan into his ear, and that’s all it takes. His motions get sloppier as he climaxes, but you don’t care because you’re in the middle of coming yourself. 

You’re laying there, trying to catch your breath and clinging together tightly. He’s practically hugging you, and you're running your fingers through his hair. 

You know you can’t stay like this forever, so you pull off of him, both of you wincing as you do so. You want to find your clothes and dash, but your legs wobble and you fall back down on him. 

You expected Benny to crack a joke like he always does, but when you turn around, he has an arm thrown over his eyes. His chest rises and falls quickly, and you wonder if you should risk it and leave after all. 

But then, Benny wraps an arm around you, much gentler this time. “Good night,” he says softly, and he’s out. 

You’re actually grateful Benny doesn’t seem to be aware of aftercare, because you have no idea what to do, and would have even less of an idea if he stayed awake and wanted to talk about what just happened. 

You’re contemplating whether to stay or go, and when you finally decide, your eyes slip shut, and you cuddle into Benny’s warmth. 

The next morning, you have a proper freak out. 

You need to talk to him, you need to not talk to him. You need caffeine and a pregnancy test and a change of clothes. You need an ice pack and a salt bath because holy fuck you’re sore, Jesus Christ Benny. 

You need Sarah and Erica. 

Luck is on your side today, because as you make your way into school, there’s no sign of Benny. You find who you need chatting at Sarah’s locker, and when Erica sees you, she immediately asks what’s wrong. 

“Oh my god, I don’t even know where to start,” you choke. They blink at you and you start to ramble. “I did something so stupid last night, But it also wasn’t stupid except for the parts that were but ohmygod I need to tell you something. It cannot wait and I am freaking out.” You pause to take a breath. “I think my heart is about to give out.” 

“Okay, okay relax,” Sarah calms you down. “We have 20 minutes before first period. What’s up?” 

“Hold that thought, Sarah, I think she needs to sit down.” You nod, so the girls take you to a more private area, which turns out to be an empty classroom, and as soon as you get there you crumple onto the nearest chair.

“So… what's up?” 

You sit up, your whole body jittering with nerves. You wanna tell them so bad but you don't know how. This is a kind of confession that needs a strong lead to get there, but you’re totally blanking. 

“Well?” 

It burst out of you, “Benny and I slept together!” 

Neither girl moved. They stood there, gaping like fish. You knew they believed you, this isn't something you'd lie or joke about. Oh how you wish you were. 

“How?” Erica finally spoke.

You grimace. “Well, it was kind of an accident at first. We were just watching a movie, then we got really horny at the same time, and it just went from there.”

Sarah’s face twisted at your words. “Were you at least safe?” 

You pinched your lips together and avoided their gaze. 

Sarah groaned and Erica exclaimed, “Are you serious? That was so stupid!”

“I told you I did something stupid! I wasn’t really thinking about protection in the heat of the moment and I seriously doubt Benny had a condom laying around.” You stop then. “Oh my god. I took Benny’s virginity.”

At your words, Sarah and Erica looked at each other. “Ewww!”

“You did what?” a voice shouted from the previously closed door. 

Rory. 

Son of a bitch. 

Erica pulled him into the room and slammed the door shut. You’ve never been more thankful for her as she began to threaten Rory within an inch of his undead life. You expected him to wet himself, but Rory’s face was calm, and not the kind of blankness you’re accustomed to seeing on his expression.

He huffed. “No wonder Benny was being so weird this morning. I thought losing your virginity was supposed to change a guy in a good way. His face looked exactly like the time I accidentally dropped him in a dumpster.”

That… did not do anything good for your ego. 

“He hates me,” you pout. 

“I don't know about that,” Rory shrugs. “He asked if I saw you and told me to tell him if I did. Oh, well now that I’ve seen you, I should probably go tell him.” Rory started to walk away, but the three of you shouted after him and dragged him back. 

“Okay, jeez. I don’t get what the big deal is.”

Erica facepalmed and Sarah scoffed. “The big deal is that two close friends slept with each other. That’s not a thing friends do! It’s probably awkward for them!”

You sigh. “Guys, it’s more than awkward. We didn’t even talk about it. I left before he woke up.”

Erica gasps, “You did not.” Sarah and Rory both wince, and again, this did not make you feel better. 

“What was I supposed to say! It happened so suddenly—we didn’t even kiss!” 

The three of them pause and gawk at you. You threw your hands up in surrender. 

“It just didn’t happen. We were kinda focused on other things.” You were pulled back to the memory, his lips and hands everywhere, his whiny little mewls and pants hot and breathy in your ear… 

“Oh my god. She’s thinking about him right now, ewww!” Erica squealed.

“Wait, was Benny actually good?” Sarah asked in disbelief. 

You sigh dreamily, “Let's just say, if he wasn't already a spellcaster, he'd still have magic in his fingers.”

“EWWW!” Three voices cried in unison. Rory gagged and Erica covered her ears. Sarah closed her eyes, her worn expression letting you know she very much regretted asking at all. All three looked rather like a steak to the heart would be a perfect end to this conversation. 

The end, however, came in the form of the warning bell. Before leaving you swore all of them to secrecy, with an emphasis on Rory’s discretion. He gave you a thumbs up and said “You can count on me!” You were not confident in his ability to keep his mouth shut. 

Classes went on, but you were on edge in fourth period, the first class of three you and Benny shared, not including lunch. You got there early, as usual, and Benny came in second before the bell, also as usual. You didn’t dare look up at him when he walked by you, knowing it was him by his clumsy footsteps and the scent of his cologne. He sat behind you, and you felt the weight of his stare on you the entire class period. When the bell finally rang you were first out the door. 

Your whole group usually sits together at lunch, unless the dorks had a mathlete meeting or Erica decided to sit with her boytoy of the week, which happens more often than not. She promised to sit with you and Sarah today just in case a buffer (or a badass vampire) was needed. 

Rory is the first of the boys to sit down and starts yammering about his day. Apparently the stray cat he feeds in the junkyard went missing and it’s been days since he saw it and he’s getting worried. He was in the middle of the “epic” tale of their friendship and why they don’t try to eat each other anymore when Benny sits down. Right in front of you. Where he always does. Very normal, but you can’t ignore the shaking feeling that no, everything is decidedly not normal. 

Unfortunately for all of you, Rory trails off. 

The table is silent for a long, long while.

You want to say something so bad, you hate this awkward tension between the two of you, but you can’t speak. It’s like your voice was stolen by teenage embarrassment. 

You have enough strength of mind to meet Benny’s eyes, only you’re unable to read him. Is he disgusted? Regretful? If so, of what specifically? Is your friendship completely over? He just looks and looks. 

Just as a headache began to form between your eyes, Ethan barrelled into his seat in an anxious flurry. You’ve never been happier to hear the words: “Guys, I think we have a problem.” 

Your focus is 100% on Ethan now, you don’t even notice the pinch of Benny’s brows at his best friend's words, or the way his fingers twitch for his spellbook, or the way he licks his lips like he always does when he concentrates. 

It’s Benny, of course you can’t help but notice. 

Except, something Ethan just said actually pulled your focus. “Wait, you said you saw strange markings in your vision. Was there anything concrete? It sounds like whoever drew them and left the animal hearts and talismans were attempting a ritual.”

Ethan nods. “There were pentagrams all over my vision, and there was a flash of goat hooves and a clock.”

“A clock?” Benny asks. 

“Yes,” he confirms. “The hands were set to midnight.” 

“The witching hour,” you and Benny speak in unison. You snuck a peek at him, almost startling when you see he did the same. You dart your eyes away, and a sinking feeling hits you as you realize what Ethan’s vision most likely meant.

“Rory,“ you start slowly, “what color is your junkyard cat?”

Your friends tense as you say this, also connecting the dots. Rory, bless him, remains oblivious. 

“He has black fur! That's why I named him Shadow Ninja! I hope the little guy is okay…” Rory digs into his sandwich, and you don’t know if he’s being willfully ignorant to spare his own feelings, or if he genuinely knows nothing about superstitions. The group glances at each other, all silently agreeing to keep Rory in the dark. 

“We need to find out who’s behind these rituals. It’s one thing if they’re idiotic humans, but another if they’re witches,” Sarah comments. 

“What do they even want?” Erica asks. “What are the rituals for?”

“Well, if Ethan’s visions and the ritual’s remnants are anything to go by,” you muse darkly, “I’d guess they’re trying to summon the Devil.”

Benny hums. “Making a deal with the Devil is not good, Grandma says that all time. We need to find out for sure where the rituals took place.”

He begins to flip through his spellbook when Ethan asks why the location matters. 

Then, it hits you. “Ley lines.”

“Exactly,” Benny confirms, but he doesn’t look at you. “If they’re doing the rituals on the ley line, it’ll be easier to find out where they’ll go next.”

Sarah puts a hand on your arm. “Hold on, what are ley lines?”

“They’re invisible, mystical energy lines that run underneath the earth. They connect various historical sites, prominent landmarks, and sacred spaces to conduct the energy. They’re said to amplify the supernatural, so it makes sense if there’s one running through Whitechapel.”

“There is,” Benny says. He flips the book around and shows everyone the page he found. It details the line running through your province of Canada, but there isn’t anything you recognize. The map isn’t updated for the 21st Century, apparently. 

You make plans after school to go ley line hunting, deciding to split into three pairs to cover more ground, one vampire and one human in each. Out of everyone, you have the most success at keeping Rory on task, so you’re partnered with him. His protective side comes out most often with you, being the only fully fledged human of the group, no vamp, seer, or spellcaster powers in sight. 

You can fend for yourself of course, though you find fighting magic with magic more often than not solves the problem. It’s no bother to you when you have brains. You help Ethan make the plans and connect the dots, you don’t need to execute them. 

Admittedly, the idea of summoning the Devil scares the shit out of you, it also helps take your mind off of the Benny issue you’re facing. 

You and Rory have been searching for an hour and a half (with you only needing to pull Rory back on task three times) when you realize the section of the map took you to a familiar house in the rich part of town. 

“Rory,” you get his attention. “Isn’t this Jesse’s mansion?” He, briefly serving time in Jesse’s cult, frequented this house more often than that one time you paid an unwanted visit, would know for sure. 

“Oh hey. Yeah, it is.”

The mansion looks different than the last time you saw it. After Jesse’s imprisonment in the cubile animus, the place remained abandoned; and no one, not even the HOA, dared to mess with what he left behind. 

The lawn was overgrown, leaves and vines creeping up and curling around the corners and windows. The siding was darkened with dirt and grime, and some of the shillings had fallen off, leaving a gaping spot where it once lay. 

“Does the magic line go through the house?” Rory questions.

According to the map, it did, but you had a feeling it wasn’t this easy. 

“We need to get in and check it out. Something doesn’t feel right.” 

Rory walks up to the gate and pushes it open, the hinges squeaking and built up rust grinding as it opens. The two of you approach the former vampire den cautiously, the brick driveway filled with green in its cracks and all kinds of foliage strewn over the walkway left by wind and storms. 

Once inside the house, you shudder. It might've been abandoned, but the air felt dark and tainted still. 

“Hey,” Rory called from where he ventured further in, “I’m not sure this place is as abandoned as we think.” 

He’s right. In the corner of the living room, messy sleeping bags and junk food wrappers littered the entire space. There were school bags tossed haphazardly on a table, and books on every available space possible. 

You made your way to the kitchen area, where there was more discarded food, spilled liquid, and even more books. On the dining table, dried blood, a variety of talismans, melted candles, and ashes lay within a pentagram.

You made your way to the island, which was clear of everything except one book in the center.

Rory came up next to you and pointed. “I know this book. It has Jesse’s prophecy in it.”

You skimmed the book, and Rory stopped you on the page about the prophecy. You scanned the page, and when you saw a familiar line, you read it aloud: “The dead take root, the barren orchard bears the devil's fruit.’” You pause. “Rory, check the map. I think the ley line runs under Ethan’s house, specifically the tree in his backyard. They tried the ritual here, and it didn’t work. The other failed rituals happened at the church, the cemetery, and the stump of Whitechapel’s oldest tree. If they found this book, it won’t take them long to figure out their next spot, and I think it might actually work this time around. I mean, symbolically, it seems like the place to catch the Devil's attention.”

Rory’s eyes widened. “Woah. This is getting kinda scary.”

“I agree, we should get out of here before they get back.”

You start toward the door, but Rory stops you. His face twists regretfully as he responds, “Too late. I can hear them outside.”

His words make your blood run cold, and you hear the creak of the front door opening. 

As quickly and quietly as you can, you and Rory squeeze inside the empty walk-in pantry. You’re easing the door shut as the kitchen door slams open. 

“I’m telling you, that geek is onto us. He’s a seer, right? I bumped into him before lunch and I swear he saw something,” a husky, feminine voice said. Through the panes on the door, you can make out a silhouette of her, but nothing too clear. 

A hand slaps the counter. “Why does it matter?” Deep, male, and insanely grating. You can see his hulking frame lean on the island. “He might be shacking up with vampires, but they’re not invincible. They can’t stop us no matter what they know.”

Behind you, Rory murmurs, “I know them from somewhere.”

The first one sighs, apparently not hearing a peep even from a few feet away. “I guess, but his friends are vampires. The small one, Sarah, babysits him on Friday’s right?”

“Yup. But, with some garlic and a sharp wooden steak, it shouldn’t be too hard to negotiate for that virgin’s blood. And he doesn’t even need to die!”

“That we know of. The instructions say the blood of a virgin, who’s to say that doesn’t mean the life of one? The 17th century assholes who wrote it down weren’t very specific with the recipe.”

“And the awful fucking poetry. I could’ve done without that,” the guy scoffs. 

“Whatever,” the girl snaps. “We will do it tomorrow night after his parents leave. We get what we want and hey, maybe once the Devil himself turns us into vampires, we’ll kill the virgin anyway. I hear they taste the best.”

The two cackle, and their voices dim as they clomp away. 

You and Rory tip toe out of the pantry, keeping an eye on the door as you walk. The thing is, you’re not completely aware of your surroundings. In a stroke of bad luck, you trip on a stack of books, and they clutter noisily to the ground. 

You meet Rory’s eyes, horrified. 

“Who’s there?” the guy shouts. You hear the stomp of their boots getting closer, and Rory tugs you away to the other door and up the stairs. You follow him like you’re on autopilot, everything you heard and what’s happened catching up to you at the wrong time. 

You’re being pulled up another set of stairs and Rory kicks the bedroom door open. 

“This one has a balcony. Gord pushed me off it when I was learning how to fly.”

“What a dick,” you mutter and suddenly you’re gasping in the cool outside air. 

Rory grabs onto you right as the door flies open, the two satanists rushing forward. Not a second too soon, Rory takes off. 

A few minutes and half a heart attack later, you land on the designated meeting point, which was, of course, Ethan’s front porch. Everyone was there already, and you felt comfortable enough to have a panic attack. 

You’re still gasping and your legs give out on you. You’re caught by familiar arms, and Benny lowers you down to the porch chair.

“We—we found—the book. The lines—the tree, it just. They’re going to attack you! Take your, your blood. They wanna turn. They need him to turn.”

You’re not making a lick of sense to anyone, and Sarah starts to rub your back. 

“Breathe,” she says softly. She doesn't have the compulsion ability mastered, but you want to listen to her, so you do. 

“You found something? What happened?” Ethan asks. 

“Dude,” Benny chastises. “Maybe wait til she stops freaking out? Rory, what’s going on?”

Rory explains your findings as best he can, and you use the lilt of his voice to calm down. “The guy and the girl look so familiar. I can’t place it, though.”

With a huff, Erica reminds him, “They go to our school, genius, obviously they’ll be familiar.”

Rory starts to protest, “Yeah but, that’s not where I recognize them from.”

“Vampires,” you finally say. Everyone stops and stares at you. “The deal they want to make with the Devil is to become vampires. Why would they go to all this trouble when this town is crawling with them? I think it’s because they literally can’t. Vampires won’t turn them.” You twist your body to face Sarah and Erica. “Does the Council have some kind of banned humans list? Like, “Do not turn these people under the penalty of death” list?”

Sarah hums and furrows her brows together in thought. “I’m sure they do, I’ll go check,” and she vamp speeds away. 

“It’s the only reason I can think of. Anyone else have a theory?”

You look up from your place on the chair, and everyone (again) is staring. 

“That,” Benny declares, “was incredible.”

You meet his gaze, and for the first time since last night, it doesn’t feel weird. It feels… normal. Right. 

You smile at him shyly, and think yeah, you’ll be alright. 

A nudge to your side has your attention on Erica. Apparently she caught that little exchange. She quirks a playful eyebrow at you and you shrug your shoulders innocently. 

After that, it doesn't take too long for Sarah to return in a whoosh of air. “They do have a list! And it comes with pictures. Here,” she hands everyone a stack. Thankfully, it’s not too big. It only takes a few seconds before Rory spots them. 

Ethan nods. “Yup. I ran into her this morning and that’s when I got the vision. She didn’t seem too pleased with me.”

Now that you have all the pieces, you plan. 

A pizza is ordered and you all gather around Ethan’s dining table.

“These people know way too much about us, so what if we give them more?” Ethan suggests. 

You hum in agreement. You reach for a slice, and your hand brushes Benny’s. You lock eyes over the table, and he’s flushing that sweet red again. He retracts his hand, and you grin to yourself as you take the slice. 

“Like what?” Erica asks. 

“They think the ball is in their corner, right?” you explain. “So what if we change it up? Make them comfortable, make it even more easy for their plan to unfold, but what they don’t know is that we’re doing the same thing, only better.”

“Okay,” Rory remarks, voice laced with confusion. “What do we do?”

You and Ethan share a near manic smirk. 

“We’re gonna set a trap. Tomorrow, I will very loudly say in front of them that I’m Jane’s babysitter tonight instead of Sarah. That gets rid of one vampire, they think ambushing us will be a walk in the park if it’s me.” 

“Tomorrow night, you three,” Ethan informs Sarah, Erica, and Rory, “will be waiting in the shadows, ready to attack when necessary.” 

You take a deep breath. “Benny, you need to be with us.” 

Ethan startles. “What, why?”

You ignore him. 

“Benny, do you trust me?”

Instantly, he says yes. 

“Good,” you breathe. “You need to be the sacrifice.” 

Ethan protests immediately, and the others look at you like you’ve grown a second head. 

“Um, they need a virgin for the ritual, right?” Erica speaks up, deliberately slow as if you somehow forgot you were the one to change Benny’s virginal status. 

“Yes,” you confirm, and as subtly as you can, you explain. “They need a virgin to complete the ritual.”

You can see the moment it clicks for Sarah and Erica; unfortunately, Rory is more vocal with his understanding. 

“Ohhh, is it because Benny—YEOUCH!” He yells as Erica elbows him particularly hard in the side. 

Ethan’s eyes dart between all of you. “Uh, okay. Whatever. As long as it isn’t Jane, I don’t care who gives up their blood.”

The next day at school, you get the wannabe vampires hook, line, and sinker when you bring up your status as tonight's babysitter right in front of them. Unbeknownst to them, Jane is going to be safe next door with Benny’s grandma the second their parents leave for date night.

It takes a few hours for the “ambush” to happen, just minutes before midnight. You have fun pretending to act scared and whine when they tie you up, though you could’ve gone without the grass stains as the burly guy tossed you next to the tree. 

They make quick work of setting up the ritual, and hey, there's Shadow Ninja! Anger flares in you at the sight of Rory's friend tied up and muzzled like that.

When it’s all set up, they mix together what looks like the world’s most disgusting cocktail in a gold chalice. 

“Now,” the girl announces as the two stalk up to you, Benny, and Ethan. “Who will it be?” 

“We were gonna do mega geek over there,” the guy said, nodding toward Ethan, but then he points to you. “But what about her?” he asks his friend. 

The girl, the absolute bitch, throws her head back and laughs. “Her? Are you kidding? She’s a slut, no way am I drinking her blood. We need a virgin, not some high school whore, remember?” 

Your mouth drops open, “Well fuck you too! At least I got hot while I was still in high school. You wanna be eternally 17? I feel sorry you need a do-over when some of us got it the first time around.” That might not have been the best response, you think as she backhands you across the face, but it felt damn good to say. 

“Leave her alone,” Benny growls, eyes flaring, and wow, that’s hot. “Do not talk about her like that, I swear to god.”

The guy taunts Benny. “Oooh I think lover boy here just offered himself up! Gimme your arm, nerd.”

They aren’t gentle as they take Benny’s blood. You send them death glares every time he winces and hope this ridiculous ordeal is over soon.

You watch as they mix the blood into the chalice. They chant in terrible latin, and finally, they drink, draining the cup dry.

The air is still as you wait for a long moment.

Suddenly, they’re both doubled over in pain, clutching all over their bodies and heads, screaming so forcefully the veins in their forehead pop out. 

“We’re sorry!” the girl shrieks. “We don’t know what happened!”

The guy falls to his knees. “We didn’t mean to insult you—we did everything right, we promise!” 

“What do you mean,” the girl wails, and she spits up black. You realized then that someone must be talking to them in their heads. Him, possibly? 

The guy is shaking on the ground; he has the same black liquid spilling out of his mouth, and you know then that it’s blood. His eyes lock on Benny, and he began to crawl toward him.

“You!” is all he can gurgle out before he disappears in an ashy poof. The girl gives an ear shattering shrill, and a second later, she’s gone too. 

Sarah, Erica, and Rory emerge from their hiding place, instantly moving to free the rest of you from your bonds. 

“What just happened?” Ethan sputters. He didn’t expect that. What the fuck. 

“They messed up the ritual,” you smile. 

Ethan frowns. “Really? I don't see how.” 

Rory laughs and puts an arm around Ethan’s shoulder. 

“It’s because Benny took a trip to Bonetown,” he snickers, and you punch him in the shoulder as hard as you can. 

Rory makes an offended face at you. “Ouch! What was that for? I was just answering Ethan’s question.”

“Rory,”  You speak calmly, eyes closed. “Shut. Up.”

“What! We should all be thanking you! I mean, if it wasn’t for you, they totally would’ve summoned the Devil. Unless they chose Ethan instead but—”

“Rory, look! There's Shadow Ninja!”

The blond vampire squeals and tears off toward the tree, freeing his very much alive, but incredibly pissed off, feline friend. 

Only, the damage is done. 

You seek out Sarah and Erica, but they just shrug and chuckle awkwardly at you before vamping away. Rory, once he comes back with the squirming cat in his arms, senses the sudden tension he unwittingly created, and after a few seconds of deliberation decides the smartest move is to do the same. Jerks, all of them. 

You really, really wish Ethan wasn’t as clever as he is. You know the instant the explanation dawns on him. His mouth drops wide open and he points to Benny, who gives him an awkward smile. Then Ethan points the accusatory finger at you, and all you can do is pinch your lips together and watch him freak out.

“You—but how—why didn't you say—but that means—you exploded them with sex?”

He shakes his head and spins around, walking away to fetch Jane and muttering to himself like mad. Poor guy.

You and Benny are the only ones left of your ragtag group still lingering, so you walk to his house, and when you reach the steps, you can’t take it anymore. You blurt:

“We didn’t even kiss.” Benny stares at his shoes and bites the inside of his cheek. “We didn’t, so I didn’t know if you actually liked me or not. It was good, it was so fucking good. I should've stayed. I wasn’t thinking when I left the other day. I hate the morning after talk but you deserved so much better than what I gave you. I’m sorry. I like you Benny, I really do and I want to make this work.” You keep rambling, just saying what comes to mind and you’re still rambling when Benny cups your face in both his hands and pulls you into a blessedly mind numbing kiss. 

It’s everything you ever wanted. It's soft and sweet, yet firm and demanding, just like Benny. Your mouths move together skillfully, slotting together like they were made for it, and you’d like nothing more than to kiss him until you can’t breathe any longer. 

He pulls back slightly, lingering in your space, breathing in your air. 

“If I invite you in, will you stay this time?” 

You don't have to think. 

“Yes.” 

[simonghostrileysbalaclava]

first mini fanfiction im so sorry if its horrible guys im trying😭🫶 (disclaimer: hate will be blocked and removed, this is jst smth silly i thought maybe ppl will be intrested in, may be spelling errors and grammar errors)

pink is yn, pink and slanted is yns thoughts, blue is ghost

Ghost being your mentor in the 141

-

Youve just arrived at the 141 base a few weeks ago, your previous CO has bumped you up to a higher role, joining the 141. Which means higher pay, higher respect and more experience!

0630, training begins. On your way to the gym, you check the bulltin board in the hallway, which reads what higher up youll be training one on one with. Oh no. Ghost. Look, its not like you have bad blood with Ghost, hes just well.. huge, and very scary. Well thats probably better then Soap, whoever that is. Whats with his callsign? must be a good cleaner.

You make your way to the gym, opening the door and taking in your soroundings, all the rookies, a few of them being roudy and shoving eachother around, a man with a bucket hat and a beard... and the infamous skull masked man staring directly at you. Shit. You lock eyes. Staring compititon? Maybe? No? Is he zoned out? Whats happening right now? He beckons you over with a nod, you slowly approach.

"Hi."

He nods. "Ghost. Your trainer."

He speaks?

"Hi."

"Youve already said that."

Whoops.

You look up at him in fear.

He sighs.

"Name?"

"Y/n."

He walks to the sparring mat, expecting you to follow. You follow. He turns to face you.

"Lets start with the basics. Step up on the mat."

You step up.

"Stand like this." He stands like hes prepared to fight.

You copy. Your not very good at copying.

"No. Like this. Fists higher up."

"I am?"

"No your not."

He grabs your wrists and adjusts your stand.

"Better, Try and throw a punch."

You awkwardly throw a punch at his side. He dodges

"That was shit, harder. Be quicker on your feet."

You throw another punch at his gut, actually hitting him.

"Better, not hard enough."

You punch again. It hits his side.

"Harder."

You punch and miss.

"Harder."

You punch harder.

"Atta girl. Again."

You throw a punch, instead of just dodgong, he dodges and grabs your fist and sweeps undrr your legs.

You fall. Your on the ground. This is embarrassing.

-

Uhhh, past 2? this is short i dont plan on making it a full fanfiction but maybe?

[missmaniac25]

Choi Jongho - Bet

Choi Jongho x reader (no use of y/n) Fluffy fluffy fluffy Word count: 1k Inspired a lot by this clip of Jongho beating the rest of Ateez at arm wrestling. @eazycel - cause you told me to tag you (please let me know if there's spelling or grammar errors thank you)

~

You can only watch on as Mingi’s arm starts to shake with effort, elbow digging into the coffee table to try and gain some leverage.

On the other side, sits Jongho, cool as a cucumber. It doesn’t even look like he’s breaking a sweat as he pushes Mingi’s arm down. Mingi’s knuckles rap against the wood.

“What the hell?” The taller man is quick to cradle his arm while the other boys laugh at him. “How? You can’t still be this strong after doing it five times in a row?”

Jongho laughs and it lights up his whole face.

“I’m just that good.” He looks around the room. “Yeosang? You up for a round.”

There’s hollers and whoops as Yeosang gets up and gets ready to fight.

It’s the most fair battle. You see Jongho’s face contort ever so slightly as he pushes against the older boy but eventually, even Yeosang is defeated. Jongho stands up and parades around the room.

“You’re just a show off,” Wooyoung comments, still bruised from being the person who was beaten the fastest.

Jongho sits back down on the floor, mimicking Wooyoung’s words playfully. He gazes around the room, eyeing his next victim. Hongjoong opted out right in the beginning and Seonghwa left to go get the food.

There’s only you.

“No,” you say immediately, willing yourself to wiggle further into the couch. “No, no ways am I doing that.”

“Oh, come on,” Yunho chides, a smile on his face. “We all tried.”

“Yeah, and we all lost.” San folds his arms over his chest.

There’s a whole lot more commotion around you and you find yourself being pulled off of the couch, Yeosang on one arm and Jongho on the other.

“I really don’t want to do this!” You protest with little result.

Jongho settles you next to the coffee table and moves around it to face you.

The rest of the boys all try to hype you up with little result; their words are not making you feel like you could beat Jongho.

Someone nudges you in the ribs with their toes and you peer over your shoulder at San, the only person in the room who knows how you feel. He’s trying to be subtle with his eyes but it’s really not working as he looks between you and the person across from you. You smack San on the leg to get him to stop but his antics have already been noticed by someone else.

“What if I made it worth your while?” Jongho says, drawing your attention back to him. He’s smiling softly and it makes your heart jump. “What if we make a bet?”

“Ooo, can I place a bet?” Wooyoung tries to lean into the conversation but Yunho manages to pull him back.

“You’re not apart of this,” Jongho scoffs at Wooyoung.

Everyone’s eyes are on you but when you meet Jongho’s gaze, it doesn’t matter who else is in the room with you.

With a sigh, you ask what the bet will be, and you annoyingly feel San’s toe in your side again.

“Ok,” the boy in front of you begins. “Here’s my proposal.”

The room goes quiet.

“If I win,” Jongho starts. “You have to buy me whatever meal I want when we next get together. No matter what I chose.”

“Don’t I do that for you anyway?” You ask, still not sure if you’ve made the right choice agreeing to this.

Jongho laughs a little before placing his elbow on the table. His gaze lowers at his next words.

“Maybe. But if you win, I’ll take you out on your perfect date. No limitations.”

There’s muttering all around the room and you know that San is staring into the back of your head. Is there really a lose? You’ll get to spend time with the person you like either way…

The boys holler as you get ready to wrestle with Jongho, placing your hand in his. Yeosang elects himself as referee, holding both your hands in his.

“Three… two… one!” Yeosang lets go.

You’re prepared to lose. You push against Jongho ever so slightly only to find that he’s not really trying at all. Sure, there’s a little bit of push back but considering how easily he took the others down, this isn’t normal. Glancing up at him, everything looks normal but when he meets your eye he gives you a wink. You push against him some more and his arm tilts. More noise erupts from around you as you continue to push and after a few seconds of resisting, the back of Jongho’s hand hits the surface of the table.

What you can only describe as pure chaos breaks out. Mingi and Wooyoung are running around the room whilst Hongjoong and Yunho laugh. Yeosang is in complete shock. San nudges you again and you smack him hard on the leg causing him to yelp.

“What the hell is happening!?” Seonghwa’s voice manages to break through the ruckus as he stands with the bags of food in his hands.

“I lost,” Jongho states plainly before looking over at you. “And I’m taking the winner on a date.”

~

Jongho slips his hand into yours as the two of you walk down the street. He’d taken you to your favourite café and then to a music shop, buying you a record that you’d really wanted which he carried under his other arm. Now you were just wandering around the city, savouring every second you had with him.

“I really thought you would milk me more,” Jongho says to you. “We could’ve gone to a fancy restaurant or something.”

“It’s not about where we go.” You give his hand a gentle squeeze. “I would’ve been happy whether I won or lost. I just wanted to be with you.”

It looks like he wants to say something but his confidence disappears and Jongho giggles.

You decide to save him from himself.

“Do I now get to brag to the rest of the boys that I’m the only one to have beaten you at arm wrestling?”

“Oh yeah,” he says enthusiastically. “You have to. They’re never allowed to forget.”

It was your turn to feel shy as Jongho presses a soft kiss to your cheek before you continue to walk on in a comfortable silence.

It was the perfect date and that was something you could bet on.

[candydandyorsomething]

Some Good Conversation

Part 1?

Your roommate and high school best friend, Chris, invited you to the STARS team building night at their favorite sports bar to see his teammates again. At the height of the game, however, it grows too loud and you take a breath outside. Apparently someone shared your thoughts on the noise.

Wesker x Reader. Normal modern day au for Resident Evil. Mentions of alcohol, drinking, and hinted one night stand with a cop (the worst of the warnings for sure)Word count: 1,740

I'm not gonna lie, I was drunk when I wrote this a while back, and don't really wanna touch it too much cuz that's just funny to me. I did make sure there weren't too many egregious spelling or grammar errors, though. Also, if I do continue this fic, I'm gonna make some major changes with the backstories because they are giving soap opera now that I'm reading it sober

Street lights shone in the distance along with the cars, the bustling city ever active even in the late hours of the night. Cool wind blew through the air and carried with it the smell of the surrounding pine and oak. The cold metal of the safety railing chilled your hands even through gloves as you gripped it, propping yourself against it in the late fall air. Leaves fell to the ground with another gust and covered the ground further. Whooping and hollering escaped the bar that stood behind you, a sign that the big game was going well. While the other guys loved sports, it didn’t serve to interest you that much. Oh well, at least they were enjoying themselves.

Crunches of stepped on leaves sounded out from behind until a familiar man joined you in the cold.

“Hey Wesker,” you said.

“Hello,” he said, eyes set on the same scenery as you, unobstructed by his usually ever present sunglasses.

A moment of awkward silence passed until you broke the quiet. “Game not going the way you want it to?”

“No, I’ve just never cared much for sports.”

“Yeah, same here.” You rubbed the back of your neck, like it would ease the tension in the air instead of your muscles. “I’m not a fan of all the noise, either.”

“Me neither.”

Branches rustled as another beat of silence settled in, so much so that even the trees seemed uncomfortable and felt a need to fill the void. The lack of any noise from animals that would otherwise populate the forest certainly didn’t help to fill the air.

“So,” started Wesker, “why did you move to Raccoon City?”

You looked at him, somewhat surprised by his sudden question. Rather than ask why the abrupt interest in your story, though, you took solace in the conversation.

“I grew up just outside of here with Chris, in the suburbs. When he came back from the air force, we both needed somewhere to move to and figured,” you shrugged your shoulders, then swept your hand out across the distant cityscape, “why not here. Rent’s cheap and we both have friends and family nearby. Plus, he had a perfectly good job lined up, thanks to Barry.”

Wesker nodded his head in response with a gentle hum.

“What about you?” you asked. “What brought you here?” 

His jaw clenched as he started to lean against the railing, one arm sat on top of the other. “That’s a rather long story.” He stood quietly once again, eyes steadfast on the busy city. His lips pursed as he stared off into the distance, like he was debating if he should open up about it.

Before he could have a chance to shut you down and close himself off, you asked a different, but similar question. “Okay, well, what made you move to the States?”

He finally tore his gaze away from the horizon to look at you instead. “How did you-”

“What, you think I never noticed the accent slips? I just didn’t wanna comment on it in front of the others.”

A small sigh left his lips after he directed his sight back where it was. It seemed like he closed up again until he spoke.

“I was born here in America, but my mom moved here from England with my dad. After they married, of course. When I was five, though, they divorced and mum got custody. But she couldn’t afford to support herself, let alone kids, and moved back in with my grandfather until she got back on her feet. About six years later, she moved back to a different town to start fresh, and settled down.”

You started to mirror his posture after he finished his story, the weight of it setting in along with the fact he shared something so intimate about himself. After a moment of absorbing the information, a certain part stood out to you. 

“Kids? As in, not just you?”

“No, I have a sister, Alex. I don’t talk about her very much, though. She’s not exactly,” he paused for a moment, “all here.”

You looked over at him with a sad expression. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

He kept his own face trained forwards as he propped his head on one of his hands. “I do my best not to let it bother me.” 

Silence fell between you two again as you watched the horizon. Unlike the other beats of quiet, though, this one didn’t sit so uncomfortably. It gave a moment of respite from the heavy topic he touched on that no doubt went deeper than he might like to suggest, and affected him worse than he led on.

“Why did your family move up to the midwest?” asked Wesker, breaking the still air. You took your turn to look at him, astonished. A sly smirk crept across his face while he looked over to see your reaction. “What, did you think I never noticed the occasional twang to your voice? You’re not the only one with observational skills.”

A small chuckle slipped past your lips. “Alright, fair enough.” You looked ahead into the distance again, steeling yourself for your own story. “My mom grew up down in Alabama. Matter of fact, that’s where I was born. She met my dad there, got married to him, and ended up divorcing him not three years later when he got stationed somewhere else.

“My mom couldn’t support herself and two kids, so she had to move back in with my grandma. Then, about three years later, one of my great aunts on my mom’s side was talking about moving close to here, and managed to convince my grandma to move us all here, too. Said the community would be better for everyone, and that she would help us whenever we needed her to. By the way, that was a bold faced lie, ‘cuz she never did jack shit. She just didn’t want to come here by herself and dragged us all along with her. God knows why, she didn’t even stay.”

“Well she sounds just delightful,” he said, eliciting a chuckle from you.

More cheers emanated from the full bar behind you two while you both got more comfortable in each other’s company. Wesker’s shoulders eased downwards, his jaw unclenched some time ago, and one foot crossed over the other. Your own muscles eased up as well, any sign of tension gone.

“We should probably head back in, soon,” you said after a few moments of peace.

“We could,” he started slowly, “or we could just leave.”

A gentle but incredulous smile grew on your face at his suggestion. “I don’t think that’d be such a good idea.”

“Why not?”

The smile fell away when he pressed for an explanation rather than reconsider his offer to you. Did he really not see how rude it would be?

“Well, we can’t just very well run off without letting anyone know. Chris thinks I’m just getting some fresh air before I come back.”

“Chris would understand if you felt the need to go. From what I understand, he’s a good friend. You can just text him that you decided to go home, instead.”

You raised an eyebrow at him and his counter to your point. “What about you? Wouldn’t it look bad for the captain to be the first to leave?”

He waved his hand in the air as if to swat the very notion away. “They all know I’m not interested in sports, I mostly come to bond with my team and have some facsimile of a social life. It’s rare for me to not be the first to leave.”

You mulled it over in your head, weighing the two options. Most of Chris’s coworkers knew how quick your social battery drained, Chris knew you didn’t like to drink too much, and it was obvious you didn’t care about the game going on. On the other hand, they seemed glad to see you again, with Barry and Joseph damn near cheering when they saw you. After another moment of deliberation, you decided. 

“You know what, fuck it,” you said before you pulled out your phone. The screen lit up, making you squint from the sudden brightness, as you shot Chris a quick text.

‘Yo, I think I’m just gonna bounce for the night I’m getting really tired and it’s really loud in there’

After a few moments he sent a text back.

‘Ok, see u tmr Thx 4 tellin me this tim :P time’

Your eyes rolled when you read it; you forget to say you’re leaving one time and the man never lets you live it down. You replied, rather fittingly you thought, with a middle finger emoji, to which he sent back a peach emoji and the word hole.

“So,” you started when you slid your phone back into your pocket, “what’s your plan, Captain?”

“What makes you think I have a plan?” His tone sounded almost insulted, but the slight smirk that crept onto his face told something different.

A bigger smirk grew on yours while you looked him in the eyes. “You just so happened to suggest we both leave together at the same time without a single plan? Look, I know I’m not always the brightest but I’m not quite that stupid.” You turned your back against the railing and settled your hands on top of it. “Now come on, spill. What is it?”

Instead of answering your question out loud, he walked over to his car and unlocked it with his key fob. Metal clicked into place as he opened the driver side, the four lights bathing the area in a bright beam. Red glowed from the turn signals under the main lights, and added a slight pink tint to the world.

“Well,” he said, “you wanted to know what I had planned. Get in.”

Leaves crunched under your feet as you walked over to the passenger side. “You do know this doesn’t tell me much, right?”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out soon,” he said with a wink.

You looked at the inside of the car as you climbed in, dark grey and black making up most of the color scheme. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it was nice compared to the cars you and Chris drove. Nothing laid in the floorboards, the headboard was devoid of any dust, and the seats were completely unstained.

“Alright,” you said, “let’s go.”

________

Thanks for reading the pure self indulgence I wrote while I was stupid drunk. Have a good day/night. Probably night if I had my guess

[nehswritesstuffs]

Ask game! 💋💥💞💫

Ooooh, yay! Thank you~

This got kind of long, so my answers are under the cut!

💋when you leave comments on a fic, do you want to hear back from the writer?

Yes! It's rare for me to not want to hear back, but I know and understand that sometimes you got nothing else to say, since I've been on that end too.

💥find your least kudos'd fic - say something wonderful about it.

That would be TTOU Big Finish Snippet: Workplace Security [AO3] with its all of THREE KUDOS! *paper confetti* I really enjoyed writing something for The Thick of UNIT that was Jamie, Sam, and Bismuth. One of the great things about both Doctor Who and The Thick of It is the side characters and what they can bring to the story. While Doctor Who is able to access all of time and space with its side characters and give us more Human voices to lean upon for anywhere from an episode to a whole series/season, the side characters in The Thick of It give us a sense of just how many cogs are in the system and how big and far-reaching everything is, especially what the ministers and aides are cocking up. It's a reminder of all the banal shit in a government or other large organization and how much of said shit happens and yet you have to carry on best you can. Here we're able to explore all of those concepts in a short audio script fic that has no shortage of Bismuth attempting to figure things out, Sam being a sort of grounding force, and Jamie being... well... Jamie. my next-least at five is the beginnings of a rewrite of an old One Piece fic i haven't touched in years and i really need to get back on that bc i haven't touched the rewrite in more than a few months lol i'm too many dozens of thousands of words into the conceptualization to just drop it at this point

💞what's the most important part of a story for you? the plot, the characters, the worldbuilding, the technical stuff (grammar etc), the figurative language

I'm going to answer this in regards to fan fiction only, since it has factors that don't impact published original fiction and vice versa. A tough one, but I would have to honestly say it's a weird combination of factors that can vary if certain criteria are met. Sometimes I begin to go through a fic where something's not up to snuff and I'll go "I'll entertain this for now" and it's lead to some surprising things. Part of this I think comes from cutting my fandom teeth with varying anime as a teen back in the 2000s. One of the things that I think makes sense when you think about it but we're easily able to take for granted is that one can utilize fandom as experimentation and practicing and figuring shit out. For some people, that's learning how to write a story. Others might know how to make words do things (wording is hard!), but they need practice at worldbuilding and storycraft. Some are trying to figure out how to stay consistent with a character, while on the opposite end of that, there's shit so silly that it can't help but be funny. If there's the right balance, then there are definitely things I can look over, but too many infractions clashing with one another and whoops Nehs out. There's also people who use fandom to practice foreign language skills in general. We see it often with weebs learning Japanese, but it also goes with people writing in English-as-a-Second-Language too. I've seen some really questionably-crafted stories that were rife with spelling and technical errors, but the soul of the story is there, if that makes any sense. They KNOW the characters, they KNOW what they want to tell, they KNOW how to get everything across in every possible way, and probably write really well in their native language, but in English...? They're working on it. And that's great! Part of me wants to branch out into that sort of thing one day, but the problem is that the communities whose languages I'm trying to learn are already very bilingual in English. But yeah... because all of those things were so weird and fluid and just desperately wanted in Anglophone weeb spaces FFN that it made sense to take what we could and encourage others when it came to writing about our anime blorbos. I dunno about everyone else's experience, but I rarely was in the middle of flame wars, so most of my fandom experience tended to be pretty cool. Also, having ESL family helps. It's no joke that it's hard translating everything in your head before you say it--some stuff gets lost in translation... literally!

💫what is your favorite kind of comment/feedback?

In lieu of a mini book report like was common in my teen years (lol), I really enjoy the ones that take something(s) that the reader liked about the story/chapter and picks it all apart. It could just be that they really liked a line or exchange of dialogue, or mentioning how events are going and how that messes with the story, or using context clues to try to parse out what's coming next. Knowing what clicks and whirs and gets into people's brain is so interesting to me and I love getting that information because then that's stuff for me to figure out as well about my writing and how it interacts with folks. Bonus points when someone does it on a by-chapter basis and/or on older stuff! I do also appreciate when someone legitimately corrects me, lol, 'cause Lord knows I'm not perfect.

Anyone else interested in having me answer some questions as I avoid writing actual fic? See what other prompts there are here.

[shamelessysunday]

sunday ★ she/her/hers ★ british ★ masterlist (coming soon...)

writing for: max vestappen (mv1), bucky barnes (jbb) 

sunday’s synopsis: howdy! just want to thank you for passing by and sticking around to read this. a couple of things about me to get us started: i love me a good oxford comma, you can always catch me with my headphones, i can easily be sold a book based off of its cover, i’m an avid poetry advocate, i adore long fics, and am petrified of publishing anything under 6k words! 

you’ve got to try and make friends wherever you go so drop me a message if you ever want to! i don’t really have any nicknames asides from “sunday”, so feel to creative! i’m open to requests, however i should notify you that i’d take a while to deliver it to you. another warning: i don’t shy away from an angsty ending… whoops! 

hope you enjoy your time with me and my blog, and please notify me of any spelling or grammar errors at any time (just be nice, pretty please!). 

[honey-beann]

Sorry to leave a super vague prompt request, but could I would love to see you use 12 from the crying dialogue prompt list with either nines Connor or sixty (or all of them??? 👀)

Okay so I went a little crazy with this request (and as a result neglected many others over the past few days, whoops), but here's what I came up with! I'm pretty proud of it, and am honestly considering expanding it into a longer piece or potentially even a series if there's enough interest :)

Now, a few important notes are:

The rk boys are human triplets.

Hank adopted the boys when they were around five, but took his own life (although that isn't explicitly mentioned, just vaguely hinted at) when they were roughly twenty.

Sixty is mentioned as having abused drugs and alcohol, but does get clean and stay clean (in a sobriety sense, though his hands remain very dirty in the legal sense).

All three brothers are insanely in love with the reader.

This is pretty heavily unedited still, so I apologize for any errors in grammar or spelling, I just know I'm going to be very busy these next few days and wanted to get this out asap.

With that said, I hope that you enjoy!

Home (you)

rk brothers (Nines, Connor, Sixty) x Reader

Chapter I - The Village It Takes

Warnings:

Mentions of drug abuse

Mentions of alcohol abuse

Very vague mentions of suicide (if you squint)

Illegal activities

Pregnancy

General angst

Crying dialogue prompt #12 - "I um... I didn't know where else to go..."

Word Count: 2,797

It was storming something fierce, and you had to fight the urge to flinch as the rain pelted aggressively against the windows of your home, a sudden crack of thunder instantly sending your young son into a terrified fit of tears, hands grasping at the air above him as he searched for his mom.

You let out a soothing coo as you lifted him out of his play pen, murmuring gentle promises of safety as you held him close.

Letting out gentle burbles and scared whimpers, Finley, being only six months old, was quick to lean into your touch, anxious for his mother due to the sudden and frightening external stimuli of the world outside your home.

You hummed a soft tune beside his ear while slowly walking in circles around the room, feeling his breathing slow and his rushing heartbeat return to normal against your chest.

You let out a sigh of relief, continuing your gentle humming until the sound of small feet pattering on hardwood caught your attention and caused you to stop so you could listen more intently, despite the fact that you would recognize those small footsteps anywhere.

Turning to face the hallway, you smiled gently at the little figure that stood there, drowning in one of his father's old shirts, rubbing one of his eyes with a tiny fist in a manner that almost made you tear up at the cuteness.

Damn, postpartum hormones really were no joke, even after six months of re-regulating.

"Mama?"

A small voice called out to you, followed by that familiar little figure stepping out into the yellowed light of the kitchen in search of you, senses still dulled by sleep.

"I'm here, sweetheart. Did the thunder wake you up?"

The little boy nodded in response, approaching you faster now that he realized where you were,

"'s loud. I don't like it."

He murmured, voice sleep laden and confused as he raised his arms to hold on to your thigh, a habit he'd adopted seven months prior when you'd been far too pregnant to pick him up safely.

"I know, baby, I know. Give mama a minute and she'll help you get back to sleep, alright?"

Incredibly patient for a three year old, the little boy, Atlas, nodded, climbing into a nearby kitchen chair as you tugged your baby scarf out of a drawer beside your front door.

Humming the same gentle tune as before and trying not to consider the origin it had, you then made your way over to the couch, laying Finley down before undergoing the process of wrapping him tightly against your chest in a way that was all too familiar to you now that you'd done it so many times.

You almost laughed as you recalled how difficult it had been in the beginning, but once again found yourself desperate to keep those memories at bay.

As much as you loved your boys, it hurt to think of all the moments where you'd been forced to learn something by yourself, without the once familiar warmth of your ex fiance at your side.

Adjusting the scarf ever so slightly and taking care to ensure that Finley's airways were secure, you then turned your attention back to Atlas, only to find that he had fallen asleep on the hard wooden chair he had climbed his way into just a few minutes before.

You smiled sadly at the sight, guilt creeping into your chest as you struggled to fight off the feeling that you had let him down again, neglecting to be there for him when all he'd wanted was his mother.

Still, there was nothing you could do to change that now. Atlas had been getting far too good at self soothing since around the time his baby brother had been born, and as much as you hated it, you knew that you were already doing everything that you could to keep your boys safe and happy.

Bending down, you picked Atlas up with ease, allowing his legs to dangle as you balanced him upon your hip, thus allowing his head to find support on your shoulder, just a few inches away from where his brother was sleeping.

Knowing all too well that you weren't going to make it all the way to the bedroom without waking one or both of your boys up, you instead opted to lay on the couch, head propped up by a pillow as you watched your sweet babies sleep, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes as you were overwhelmed for the one millionth time by the sheer amount of love that you felt for them.

Your adoring and all too understanding first born son, your sweet Atlas, the apple of your eye, and your innocent and helpless baby boy, your perfect Finley, the sun in your sky. You loved them more than life itself, and you hated every part of you that couldn't just forget and move on for their sake.

But god, it was all too hard.

Too hard not to notice that Atlas was the spitting image of his father, and that Finley was growing up to be the very same,

Too hard not to cry when Atlas asked where his daddy was,

Too hard not to love the man you once knew, and too hard not to despise the man he'd become for all that he was missing and all that he had left behind.

But above all else, the hardest thing of all was to not know where he was, whether or not he was safe, and what had happened to him.

Text after text to both of his brothers, and missed call after missed call made to him, no one knew where Sixty was but Sixty himself, and he was far too eager to leave you and your children behind to ever answer your pleas for a response.

Eleven years you had loved him, since the two of you had been thirteen year old middle school idiots, and where had that gotten you?

Where had that gotten Connor and Nines?

Left to pick up the slack for their brother to help their childhood best friend stay afloat, despite all of the feelings that remained after all these years.

Where had that gotten Sixty?

Reliving all the hurt, struggling to remain whole, undoing all the years of counseling and growth that he had worked so hard to achieve.

You loved your boys with a ferocity that physically ached, and more than anything you wished that Sixty could be there for them the way that they deserved, but still...

You wished you'd never told him.

Maybe if you hadn't, he would-

You gasped at the sudden sound of knocking at your door, the three successive bangs instantly having you on edge, and immediately causing your two boys to awaken, one very confused, and the other very fussy.

You cursed under your breath, desperately trying to calm Finley down as you attempted to get up, only to find that Atlas was clinging to you in a way he hadn't done in ages, desperate for his mother in his confused and sleepy state.

You briefly considered detaching yourself to make things easier, but how could you do that after you were already so worried over his tendency to self soothe?

What were you teaching him if you left him alone now, that you wouldn't be there even when he so clearly wanted you to be?

Fussy baby held close by the scarf wrapped securely around your body, you let out a slight groan of effort as you lifted your still mostly asleep son back to your hip before slowly making your way over to your locked front door, drawing back the deadbolt before carefully undoing each and every other lock that Nines and Connor had painstakingly installed just a few months prior.

"It's for your safety."

Nines had stated simply, a finality in his tone that would have made you back off if you hadn't long since grown out of fearing him.

Nearly twenty years of friendship (and eleven years of something more) tended to do that to a person.

You couldn't fear Nines if you tried.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you'd sighed while shifting your gaze to Connor, who was screwing yet another lock into your door with precision and care.

He'd smiled and shrugged when he noticed you were looking to him for support,

"He's right, you know. You live alone, you just had a baby, and you have a three year old to think of too. It'll help keep them safe."

Always aware of your soft spots, especially the ones that would have you relenting to he and his brother's over protective actions, you knew that Connor knew what he was doing by saying that, but you couldn't bring yourself to be angry at those caring brown eyes of his.

Just the same as his identical brothers, Connor had been your friend for almost twenty years now, and equally the same as them, there had also been a certain tension that never seemed to fade, even after eleven years of subtle pining.

There was just something about the Anderson triplets that you couldn't help but be drawn towards, and each of the three of them seemed to feel the very same way, in spite of how different they were from one another.

So, when you had initially discovered that you were pregnant as a result of a rather passionate night with Sixty post-engagement, your first feeling was one of excitement.

Your baby would have two incredibly caring uncles to love and support them, because if hundreds of longing glances and overly touchy moments hadn't scared them off prior to you dating their brother, nothing would.

Connor and Nines were there to stay, whether you decided to be with Sixty or not.

But what you hadn't considered was whether or not Sixty would be there to stay.

And initially, he had been.

You could still recall how happy he'd been when you'd told him, the excitement in his eyes and the wide grin on his face as he'd spun you in circles before going on and on about how beautiful your child was going to be.

But what you had neglected to consider, was Sixty's affinity for self sabotage, particularly when he was at his happiest.

How you had missed the signs, you honestly didn't know.

The very thing that had drawn you to, in a sense, "choosing" Sixty, was the fact that he needed the support, the love more than either of his brothers did at that time.

The black sheep of the family, the "bad boy", the scoundrel, Sixty was self described as "badly damaged" by the time he had finally let you in, and it had taken years of counseling and support to help him move on from what he had experienced, and what he had seen.

Because while Nines and Connor had moved on from their childhood, Sixty never had, and the methods he had turned to in order to avoid thinking about it only made everything worse.

It had started with the drinking at thirteen,

which had turned into the drug selling at fifteen,

which had turned into the drug use at sixteen,

which had ultimately culminated in him overdosing that same year.

He had gotten clean at seventeen, after six months of in-patient rehab.

But even still, Sixty had never truly gotten away from the drugs, alcohol, and other illegal activities, no matter how sober he was,

although you hadn't known that until it was far too late.

You didn't know about the dingy little apartment he rented to manufacture drugs in,

or the fake ID business he ran on the side,

or the black market bullshit he did for his main source of income.

And because of that, you also hadn't known about the enemies he'd made,

the fear he had felt,

and the deep shit that he was in.

And then suddenly you were twenty-one, engaged, pregnant, and finding out that Sixty had been lying to you for years, all at the same time.

Except he wasn't telling you in an effort to come clean for the sake of your relationship.

He was telling you because he wanted to end your relationship.

He couldn't be a father, not with the shit he was dealing with, and not with the type of man that he was.

That was what he had told you three years ago.

And it was Nines who had held you together afterward.

Cain "Nines" Anderson, who was nicknamed for the number of minutes he was younger than his oldest brother, Connor, was the last person that someone might expect to run to for comfort, and honestly, back then, you had kind of thought the same.

Years and years of friendship with Nines had yielded an incredibly close relationship, but even so, it was rare that you went to him for comfort prior to your breakup with Sixty. In fact, if not for the fact that Connor had been away at college at that time, you may have actually gone to him due to the sheer number of times he had provided you support growing up.

But looking back on things now, you were glad you'd gone to Nines, no matter what the reasoning behind that was.

From the moment you had called and confided in him for comfort, Nines had insisted on being there for you throughout the entirety of your pregnancy, taking a prolonged leave of absence from his position at the FBI in order to remain in Detroit for ten months.

Hell, he had even been there when you'd given birth (although Connor had arrived only very shortly thereafter, panting and having left his car parked illegally out front in an effort to make it on time), holding your hand and guiding you through each and every contraction the very same way you'd both practiced during the birthing classes you'd attended together.

And just like that, Atlas had been born, and suddenly, everything felt right.

That is, until Sixty had shown up nearly two years later, playing a much different tune than when you had last seen him, begging to see you and desperate to meet his son.

But it had been the same bullshit, but in the form of a note the very next morning, when you woke up in bed, naked and alone.

You hadn't been surprised.

But you had been "knocked up" (as Sixty liked to call it) for the second time, by the very same man who had neglected to stick around the first time around.

And instead of Nines, it had been Connor who picked up the pieces of you after that happened

Sixty had vanished into thin air, begging you not to try to find him, and Nines was off on some mission in Europe and was impossible to contact, but Connor had been there from the moment you showed up, shaking and terrified, at his doorstep, positive pregnancy test in hand.

He had somehow known it was Sixty's without you having to say a word, and had simply pulled you close before kneeling down in front of your son, asking if he wanted to play with Sumo inside.

Now officially back from college, Connor was following in he and his brothers' late adoptive father's footsteps and working as a detective.

"Hank would be proud."

You'd murmured while laying with your head on his lap that night, and you'd felt him give a soft nod in response before he thanked you for saying so, voice strained by tears, remembering the man who had raised him so kindly until he just couldn't anymore.

And now, as you stood here, pulling your door open and revealing the soaked man on the other side, you couldn't help but think for the one millionth time that Hank had left this world far too early.

Because standing on the other side of that door was Sixty, shivering from the cold as he stared at you, eyes wide and so apologetic that it almost hurt.

And you couldn't help but wonder if any of this would be happening if only Hank had stuck around a little longer.

If only Sixty hadn't taken his absence as abandonment.

But he had.

And now he was here, standing on your front doorstep, sopping wet and staring at you and your children with those beautiful brown eyes of his, so full of longing and sadness that you had to bring a hand to your mouth to stifle the sob that threatened to break through.

"I um... I didn't know where else to go..."

And then, without warning, he collapsed at your feet.

[mermaidslabyrinth]

just dropping by to say that I'm quite intrigued by your "6 days after Luke's death" WIP and love to hear more!

Thank you for sending me an ask of my WIPs. This one was a toughy to pick a part that I wanted to show off (Because as a whole it was one of my favorites that I wrote for when Rhagerys is a little older than what I write the majority of my snippets for him). A little information first: Autumn of 136 AC [My timeline] Luke’s death is different than in the show. A dragon still kills him but it wasn’t Vhagar. Instead it was Cannibal. It was a tragic accident. No matter what anyone else thinks. Rhagerys and Aemond witnessed it but not too many people believe them when they tell what they saw.

Ages: Rhagerys, Aemond, and Jace: 20 Baela: 19 Rhaena: 17 Rhaenyra: 39 Daemon: 55 Luke at the time of his death: 18

There is a major spoiler revealed about Rhagerys. But I feel I'm never fully going to finish the story, so I don't mind giving it away.

<Scene: At an evening meal. 6 days after Luke was killed and Rhagerys severely injured. While they tried to escape an onslaught of arrow and scorpion bolts being shot from Dornish ships.>

“It should have been you!” Jace yelled at Rhagerys. “You should be dead, not Luke.” Hot tears were forming in Jace’s eyes. “It's your fault he's dead. Everything is your fault! You have been nothing but a thorn in the family’s side since our parents married.” Jace clenched his jaw to ward off the tears. He was going to say his words to Rhagerys without showing weakness. He was going to say what he had felt for his stepbrother since he was five and ten. “When you were gone during those two years traveling Westeros? There was a peace here. When you were gone that year at the Stepstones? There was a calm amongst the family. They were the only times this family felt normal. Felt right.” Jace harshly pointed at Rhagerys. “You have been nothing but a terrible stepbrother since you were five and ten.” Jace’s eyes showed pure fury. “Remember when I said that there is something wrong with you? When I told you that you were an odd creature? I meant it. I meant those words. You should not even exist.”

Rhagerys sat back in his seat and stared stoically Jace. He knew those words that so easily tumbled out of his stepbrother’s mouth were from pain. It was just barely a week ago he had to burn clothing to represent his brother’s body. Rhagerys wouldn’t say he understood Jace’s pain but he most definitely understood his anger.

Aemond sat quietly unsure what to do. In that moment the only true comfort he could bestow upon Rhagerys was to reach beneath the table and take his cousin’s left hand into his right. He gave it a light squeeze. A way to reassure and let Rhagerys know he was right by his side.

Rhagerys squeezed Aemond’s hand back. He had to let him know, wordlessly, that he understood Aemond’s gesture. That he understood that Aemond was there for him.

“Jace!” Rhaenyra tried to quell her son’s harsh words.

“It is the truth, Mother.” Jace looked to his mother. Jace turned his attention back to Rhagerys. “Think about it. How quickly did your mother and Daemon marry? There was no courting, no betrothal, they were married within less than a fortnight.” Jace slowly placed his hands upon the table. He leaned down to be at a level with Rhagerys. A small smile upon his face as he looked his stepbrother in the eyes. “Why do you think that was?” His voice was calm when those words left his lips. As if he was going to enjoy what was to come next.

Rhagerys glanced over at his father then back at Jace. The look upon Jace's face, the confident sneer, angered Rhagerys. At the same time the words started to swirl in his head. Rhagerys's mind started to put the pieces together. His face dropped just a little. Realization had taken a hold of him.

Those words were something that Rhagerys had honestly never thought about. Something that he never had any reason to question. The words Jace spat so easily started to settle in and weigh heavily in Rhagerys’s heart. He could have easily been a bastard. A noble bastard but a bastard. He could have easily been like Jace, Joffrey, Luke. But he would have been less than. He would have been a Stone or maybe a Waters but not a Targaryen.

“Jace, that is enough.” Rhaenyra admonished..

Jace stood to his full height and looked to his mother. “Why? Why does he,” Jace took a sharp breath in as he angrily pointed at Rhagerys. “why does he get to live in ignorance of what he could have been? Should have been.”

“Stop talking.” Daemon finally spoke up.

Rhagerys looked over at his father. His father looked back at him. The look in Daemon’s eyes was all Rhagerys needed to see. His father’s face gave nothing away but his eyes, they told Rhagerys that it was all true. Every word about his circumstances that Jace so eagerly hurled at him in anger, was true. That him being here, with this family, with this life, was built on a lie. His parents married because…of a chance Rhagerys would be born a boy. Not for love as his father had always told him. A son for the ‘Rogue Prince’ to claim fully as an heir. To parade around as his true born son. Everything Rhagerys became was because of Daemon Targaryen’s pride. It was because of Daemon Targaryen’s entitlement. Rhagerys existed for Daemon Targaryen and Daemon Targaryen alone.

Author's Note: Idk when I came up with the idea that Rhagerys just barely escaped being a noble bastard. But I thought it was too delicious not to have as part of who he is. Especially since he looks down on the Velaryon boys. And how Aemond truly feels about bastards as well. Rhagerys and Aemond's relationship could have been very different, maybe even nonexistent, if the truth was revealed sooner.

[hufflepuff2010]

Alexander Hamilton Head Canons- You are Pregnant

My cousin requested this, so yeah. Here ya go, Ami.

Alexander Hamilton-

-He would be sooooo happy

-like, you don’t even understand

-of course, he would be in shock for approximately 27.4 minutes

“Alexander, darling?”

“Yes, (Y/N)?”

“I’m pregnant.”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“Alexander, are you okay?”

“I’m gonna be a dad?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“I’m gONNA BE A DAD! YEAH, I’M A FATHER NOW!”

-he would try to take as much time off of work as George allowed... and as he allowed cause he gets hella bored when there isn’t anything to do

-cuddling

-so

-much

-cuddling

-because your stomach prevents many sleeping positions, y’all have to get creative

-after scrolling through several websites you find one that works (Praise the Lord)-you lay on your side, his arms usually come around you from behind (idk how to describe sleep positions, sorry)

-literally thinks your going into labor every time you feel pain

“Ow!”

“What’s happening?! Is it time?!”

“Okay, first of all, I hit my elbow... Secondly, I’m four months pregnant.”

“Oh. Right, yeah.”

-when the baby first kicks, he actually starts crying

-he’ll start just being spontaneously romantic (like this post, lmao)

-when your bump starts showing, he’s even happier

-because now there is actual proof

-because, yeah, Alex went to the ultra-sounds, and saw the pregnancy test, but he never could really feel or see a difference

-he’s obsessed with your kid

-at random times, he’ll sorta just drape his head/upper-body on your lap, head equal to your stomach

-and he’ll just start talking

about his day at work

about how smart they’ll be

about how amazing their mother is

about Jefferson being infurating

about his friends

-he reads parts of books to them

-honestly, he has more conversations with your unborn child than with you

-and when Alexander lets a curse word slip, he appologizes

-the day you actually go into labor, he’s right by your side

-and you demand the doctors take him out for ten minutes so that he can calm down

-you actually manage to fracture his pinkie, so he has to get a cast later

-he winces every single time you scream/groan because he knows your in pain and he can’t help

-but Alex stays the entire time, murmuring encouraging words and phrases

-and, in perfect sync, the baby comes out as his pinkie snaps

-he just stands there like, ‘ow?’

-but the baby isn’t breathing

-and suddenly they are just thrusted into your hands and they start wailing

-and you feel such relief, both of you

-finally you rest your head on the pillow as the baby is placed into your arms

-Alexander starts crying as you gesture for him to get into bed with you and asks if he wants to hold the baby

-and just

-there’s a lot of love, basically

-yeah, okay, I’m done

-I can’t anymore

[blushled]

Love | Dallas Winston

MASTERLIST

other Tumblr: sunkissedspidey

taglist is open!

requests are open!

pairing: Dallas Winston x female!reader

summary: Your relationship with Dally was always weird, you weren’t dating and you definitely weren't just friends. But after he almost loses you, he realizes just how much he needs you.

warnings: smut, unprotected sex (please wrap it before you tap it), language, angst, fluff, etc.

word count: 3.7k+

a/n: Please forgive me for how gross and choppy this is! This is the first thing I’ve written in months!! Sorry for any spelling and/or grammar errors!

Your relationship with Dally had always been a little weird. Not by much, but definitely compared to the other guys.

You were the only chick in the group, and everyone in it had a phase at some point where they were completely enamored with you, all expect for Darry, mostly because he saw you as a little sister. But it was always special with Dally.

You had met Dally, and the rest of the guys, when you were 15, right after he had gotten back to Oklahoma from New York. You two were always close, and you were the only person he had ever opened up to, so it's no wonder that you two had lost your virginities to each other, and still have casual sex to this day. The both of you had an unspoken agreement to not tell anyone, but Soda had walked in on the two of you one time, so now it was only you three that knew the secret.

Anyways, regardless of the hours upon hours of sex that was shared between you at least once a day, your relationship was closer than anyone else in the group, even stronger than yours and Soda's, despite the fact that the two of you had been best friends since second grade.

You never really cared about the fact that Dally was sleeping with other people. I mean, it's not like you weren't doing the same thing. You'd had sex with Dally, then Soda one night after you had both gotten absolutely hammered beyond belief, and even Peter Torlini from school a few times. But it always was better with Dally. Not just because he was amazing in bed, but because you were positive that you were head over heels in love with him. And, goddamn, if he didn't feel the same way, he was amazing at faking it. Like, you don't always have that sort of connection with someone when you have sex. Your bodies became one, and you knew exactly what the other needed at that exact moment. Who knows... maybe he was just good in bed and knew what you needed because you had been having sex for so long, or maybe... just maybe; he felt the same way for you that you did for him.

***

"Fuck, Dally! Oh, my god!" You moaned out, his cock so deep inside of you that it had your head spinning.

"Goddamn," He breathed out, his face close to yours, same with the rest of his body, as he pumped into you at a fast, steady pace, a slight sheen of sweat covering both of your trembling, naked bodies. "You're so fucking good and tight for me. 'M not gonna last much longer, Y/N." He groaned out, his breathing heavy, along with yours, as he thrusted even deeper. He wrapped his arms underneath your head, tugging on your hair as you scratched down his back.

"God, please cum for me, Dallas." You moaned, his pace quickening even more so, leaving you screaming as your eyes squeezed shut tightly, your orgasm crashing over you, your walls clenching so tightly around his cock that he couldn't help but cum, quickly pulling out and helplessly spilling his seed all over your stomach as he let out load, drawn out moans, before his muscles gave out and he collapsed back on top of you.

Your hands ran into his hair as he gave you another hot, passionate kiss before rolling over next to you on your bed, reaching over onto the night stand to grab two smokes and a lighter, passing one to you before lighting both of them up, as you both smoked, and exhaled, simultaneously, your brains started to feel foggy with euphoria as the nicotine began to enter your bloodstreams at the same time.

***

A few weeks later, you and the rest of the guys were sitting around, just talking about nothing in particular, only until Two-Bit brought up a fun topic.

"I got it!" He said, a large smirk on his face. "Best lay... Aaand... Steve, go!" Pointing at the brunette with both hands shaped as guns.

"Uhm... Probably Gracie. Big tits." He laughed out, a smoke in between his teeth.

Everyone erupted with laughter, Ponyboy and Johnny rolling their eyes and turning their attention to the cartoons on the small television.

"Y/N! Your turn!" Two-Bit said, laughing as he took a sip of his third beer.

"Not telling." You laughed as you sat on the countertop. You rolled your eyes heavily and let out an annoyed sigh as everyone booed at you. "Ugh, fine," You said, closing your eyes. "Uhm, I'm not saying the name, but he was tall with brown eyes, massive dick, and goddamn, he knew how to use it well, dark hair, and also the best kisser I've ever met before."

    Dally automatically knew that you were talking about it, a smirk spreading across his face as you enthused about just how good the "mystery man" was in bed.

*** You and Dally sat in your old, run down car, eating Dairy Queen and talking about nothing in particular.

"You wanna know something funny?" He asked before licking the melting ice cream off of his waffle cone.

"Always." You smirked, turning the music playing on the radio down a bit so you could hear him more clearly.

"You're the best I've ever had, too." He said, smirking as your cheeks lit up a bright pink shade at his words.

"And why's that, Mister Winston?" You laughed, your eyes meeting his again as he leaned in closer to you, using his free hand to circle around your clit over your underwear, your skirt covering Dally's hand from the wrist down, your eyes slowly rolling back as you moaned quietly into his mouth.

"That's just one of the reasons. You're so goddamn sensitive and I fucking love it." He laughed when you whined after his touched left you, a small huff of anger leaving your lips at the loss of contact.

After a few seconds, you grabbed his ice cream and shoved it in an empty cup, his eyes meeting your with confusion before you moved over the center console to straddle him, your lips immediately going to his as you grinder your hips together, small groans leaving both of your mouths. You tugged at his leather belt, unbuttoning his jeans after, sliding his boxers down, your mouth watering at the sight of his hard cock.

    He reached around your waist and lifted your tight shirt off of you quickly, his soft lips moving to kiss all over your breasts and he left the occasional hickey, his cool, slender fingers i clipping your bra, before he started kissing up and down your neck until you were begging for more.

    "Dally, please." You whimpered, your body trembling from want.

    He moved your underwear over to the side, right before his cock slammed into you as he pulled your hips flush against his, both of you letting out moans because of how fucking amazing it felt.

"Fuck, Dally! Shit, you feel so fucking good!" You screamed out, glad that it was night and that no one was around the two of you.

"Goddamn, you're so fucking tight-" He said before a groan cut him off, his hands gripping your waist even tighter, bruises sure to be left there (not that you were complaining in the slightest).

    One of his hands moved down to your clit, rubbing it in harsh, fast circles as his eyes rolled back, your head dipping down to suck dark purple bruises onto the soft, pale skin of his neck, his hips thrusting up to meet yours in sync, his cock hitting inside of you deeper and deeper with each thrust, the other of you chasing yourself highs as best as you could.

    Your eyes clenched shut tightly as you bit down on muscles of his shoulder, your orgasm crashing over you so strongly that you could barley breathe. Dally's arms wrapped around you, scratching up and down your back and you tugged harshly at his hair, knowing that he was coming close.

    "Cum for me." You whispered into his ear, biting down slightly on his earlobe, and then that was it. He came with a cry of your name and a load groan, his cum coating your walls as you clenched around him tighter, his teeth sinking into your breasts as he continued to thrust up into you until his muscles gave out. Your collective breathing was heavy as you both came down from your highs, his hair sweaty as you ran your fingers through it, the smell of sex and cigarettes lingering in the small, cramped car.

    "Goddamn," He said, laughing as you sat back, moving your hair out of your eyes. "That was fucking amazing."

    "Isn't it always?" You smiled cockily, grinding your hips once more, causing another load moan to come from Dally's throat, partially because it felt amazing and partially because he was so fucking sensitive.

    "What'd I turn you into?" He smirked, biting down on the skin of your neck softly, his perfect teeth skimming your jaw as he made eye contact with you again.

    "A sex addict." You said simply, a smile breaking across your face as Dally started laughing at your blatant tone, his head tipping up to kiss you softly and slowly.

    The two of you had made an agreement not to do anything with anyone else after a while, figuring that it would save the both of you from getting jealous because, even though you weren't official, the both of you were super mad every time you walked in on the other with a different person.

*** "Oh my god, fuck off!" You yelled, laughing as Soda had beaten you in poker for the fifth time that night, the rest of the guys whooping and cheering as you flipped them all of, taking your shirt off, a black bra the only thing covering your chest. Strip poker was a weird game to play with a big group of your closest friends, but it had been a favorite of everyone's for years. Dally stood in the corner, a cigarette in between his teeth as he stared you down, his eyes dark with oust and squinted with anger.

"Alright," You said, standing up and putting your shirt back on, boos coming from the guys. "I think that's enough for me tonight."

You made your way to the bathroom of the Curtis' house, putting your hair up in a ponytail before you washed the dark eyeliner surrounding your eyes off, using a rag to dry your face before changing into an extra t-shirt and pajama shorts that you always kept there, since everyone usually spent the night there.

You walked out into the dark hallway, making your way to the living room before Dally pushed you up against one of the walls, his lips meeting yours harshly as one of his hands made its way into your loose shorts, his long, slender figures toying with your clit as you tried your best to control the volume of your moans.

"Never, fucking never, pull that shit again. You got that? You know how fucking hot you are, and you know how those dudes think about you." He said, his voice low and commanding, but a tone of sweetness underlying in it.

You knew that he wasn't mad, he was just worried, even though there's no way in hell that he would ever admit that to anyone. He was your best friend, and you were his.

*** "Oh, come on, Dally. It's not even that bad. It's just a movie." You whined, gripping onto his denim jacket.

"It's a stupid movie." He laughed as your head sunk even lower, your lower lip stick out as you widened your eyes, your face jokingly pleading.

    "Dallyyy, pleaseee?" You dragged out, kissing his neck softly.

    "Fine. But if I hate it, it's on you." He laughed as you squealed, leaning over and kissing his cheek. And after a second you both looked at each other and then moved away, realizing that you were acting more like a couple than like fuck buddies.

    "I'm- uh- I'm gonna go home. Gotta get ready, ya know?" You said, standing up from the couch at Dally and Buck's place, grabbing your purse and jacket, and waving goodbye to the brunette that had your heart.

***

    As you made you way back over to Dally's, you checked how you looked in the reflection of a storefront window. Your tight white t-shirt clung to your body perfectly, your black ripped jeans hugged your frame, and you had on your favorite jacket. A thick, worn, black leather one that all of the guys had gotten you for your birthday after they had pooled their money together, a switchblade, a pack of smokes, and a lighter in one of the pockets. Your black eyeshadow and eyeliner was done perfectly, and was an amazing contrast to your bright red lipstick.

    "Dally!" You smiled, wrapping him in a small, short hug when we opened his door, throwing a shirt on and leading you down the street towards the drive in.

***

    "I'm gonna go get some popcorn." You said to Dally, smiling as you stood up from one of the cheap, grey folding chairs.

    "Be careful." He said, handing you some money before turning his attention to the movie that he claimed was stupid.

    "Medium popcorn and a large Coke with two straws, please." You said to the worker at the concessions stand, handing him the money in exchange for your food and drink.

    You walked out of the concessions stand, making your way back until some shuffling on the side of the building caught your attention. You turned your head, and the second you did, you instantly regretted it. You saw Dally making out with Polly Winchester, her hands running through his hair as he pinned her against a wall. His eyes met with your for a second and he instantly pulled away, his lips smeared with her red lipstick and his breathing hard.

    "Oh shit." He said quietly, walking over to you, trying to take your hands in his, put you instantly pulled away.

    "You fucking asshole." You said calmly, turning away towards the exit before he grabbed your arm, and then you snapped. "Don't fucking touch me!" You screamed, the people sitting near you turning to look at the two of you.

    "Y/N, I'm sorry." He said, trying his best to reach out for you agin until you took the top off of your drink and threw it in his face.

    "Fuck. You." You said clearly, finally being able to turn and walk away, tears filling your eyes as you walked back to your house.

***

    A few days later, practically in the middle of the night, you were sitting on your bed, a cigarette in one of your hands as you used the other to flip through your favorite book, music softly playing on your record player in the background as you tried your best to ignore the ache in your heart at the fact that Dally was practically fucking a chick against a wall right in front of you.

    A knock on your front door shook you out of your daze, ashing your cigarette before making your way down the hall to your front door. The second you opened it, your heart sank, your stomach dropping as you saw Dallas standing there, a pleading look on his face.

    "C-can I come in?" He asked quietly, his hands stuffed into his pocket.

    You didn't say anything, you just opened your door more and stepped to the side, allowing him to walk into your small house.

    "What do you want? Another pack of smokes? I have some on the counter and a Coke in the fridge and then you can go back to the drive in so that you don't have to pay." You said blankly, sitting down on your couch as flipping through a book that was on your coffee table.

    "No, I don't need any of that. I just wanna talk." He said, standing next to the couch awkwardly.

    "About what? About how you basically fucked Polly during a movie that we were supposed to be watching together? About how you ditched me to go stick your dick in some whore on the side of a goddamn building?!" You said, not being able to control your volume as you stood up looking at him, absolutely fuming.

    "Yeah, pretty much." He answered, not knowing what else to say.

    "You promised me, Dally. You fucking promised." You said, your eyes boring into his.

    "I know, but listen-" He tried to say before you cut him off.

    "No, Dally. You listen to me. You are such a lying fucking asshole! I can't believe I ever thought that we could be something other than friends with benefits." You said, your eyes becoming puffy. "Fuck you, Dallas Winston. I never want to see you again." You said calmly through your teeth, silently seething. You turned towards the hallway to go into your room, before Dally grabbed your arm, your eyes meeting his again, both of your eyes red as silent tear streamed down your faces simultaneously.

    "Please, Y/N." He said, his voice not much louder than a whisper. "Please don't leave me."

    "You've never listened to me when I've asked you not to leave... Why should I listen to you?" You asked quietly.

    "Because I love you, Y/N. More than I've ever loved anything in my entire life. More than smokes and parties and beer. More than sleep and sex and rumbles. So please, Y/N... Please don't leave. And I'm so fucking sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

    "I love you too, Dally. So much more than you'll ever be able to know."

    At this point, his hands were tangled in yours, your faces close together as you both finally admitted your true feeling for one another after all of this time.

    "You do?" He asked, shock evident in his voice. "You love me?"

    "Of course I love you, Dally. I've loved you ever since we were kids." You whispered, your lips only inches apart.

    "Can I kiss you?" He asks softly, his hands going slowly and tenderly up to your neck.

    "Please."

    And with that, you lips met in the most perfect kiss you could ever think of, like your lips were pieces of a puzzle and were made to fit perfectly together. After a few minutes it grew more passionate, more lust filled.

    His hands went down to the back of your thighs, gripping them tightly as you jumped up to wrap your legs around his waist. The two of you continued kissing as he walked the both of you to your room. He placed you softly on your bed, kissing down your body as he lifted an oversized white t-shirt, that just so happened to be his, over your head. He kissed all over your chest and your neck, only stopping for a few seconds to shed off his leather jacket and black shirt, before immediately going back to your lips to kiss you as you moaned into each others mouths while your hips grinned against each other's.

    "Dally, please." You moaned, your hands smoothing over his back.

    "Please what?" He asked, looking at your with swollen red lips, a beautiful contrast to his pale skin.

    "Make love to me." You whispered, your lips close to each others until he closed the distance between your mouths.

    He kissed down your neck, chest, and stomach again as he pulled your shorts off of you, moving to kiss your inner thighs as you whined from the feeling that you missed.

    He stood up again to unbuckle his belt, taking his pants off not shortly after. You pulled him back on top of you, reveling in the feeling of his bare skin against yours. He took his length in is hands, lining it up with your entrance before stopping for a few seconds to stare deeply into his big brown eyes.

    "I love you." He whispered.

    "I love you too." You replied before you met your lips with his again.

    The second he thrusted slowly inside of you, you both let out moans at the amazing feeling. he started with a slow, tender pace as you breathed heavily into each others mouths, your eyes still staring into the others.

    "Oh my god." You moaned out, eyes finally shutting tightly as he continued to pump into you, his pace quickening as his groans started to grow louder and loader, along with your moans.

    "Fuck, I love you so-" He said, getting cut off as he groaned loudly. "I love you so much."

    "I love you too, Dally- Fuck!" You screamed, the feeling of him being inside of you so goddamn intense that you could barely speak coherently.

    And then it made sense. Every feeling that you had ever had for him made so much sense. Every time that he would look at you and smile at the completely ordinary thing you were doing, every time that he told you to call him when you got home, every time that his figures brushed against yours while watching a movie made sense. He had loved you even longer that you had loved him. From the second your eyes met his when you met, he was absolutely head over heels in love with you. He had never realized how much he needed to tell you until he almost lost you, until he realized how much he needs you.

    "Dally, I'm not gonna last much longer." You moaned, lips moving to kiss the sides of his clan shaven face and his smooth forehead.

    "N-neither am I. Fuck, please cum for me, Y/N. Please. God, I love you." He moaned before his head dipped down to meet your lips with his.

    And with a few more thrusts, you were completely spiraling underneath him, your whole body trembling as you came at this same time, his final few thrusts harder and deeper than before until he finally collapsed on top of you, his lips going to kiss your red cheeks as you both breathed heavily.

    "I love you so much. Please be mine, Y/N. Please." He said, his lips skimming yours.

    "I love you more, Dally. And I'll be yours, forever and ever and ever." And with that, you both fell asleep, all sweaty and gross. But you were sweaty and gross and happier than you had ever been before.

[sortagaysortahigh]

Hot Girl Kintober Day 4 of 21 | Isaac Lahey

“I’ll put you to sleep, No pajamas”

Lol this is lowkey late but fuck it we ball. I hope yall dont mind the dialogue at the beginning of this, idk where my mind was at but it wasnt at smut in the moment so that happened. 

Warnings: cussing, spelling and grammar errors, SMUT, marking, biting, slight spanking, slight choking, spitting, oral (f receiving, m giving), fingering, squirting, overstimulation, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), mentions of edging, slight edging, a sprinkle of creampie, mentions of wet dreams, uh yeah i think thats it

Word count 5k

kinktober masterlist

werewolf!Fem!reader x Isaac lahey

He watched you roll your eyes, you were sitting on the couch in the loft-leaning your head on Stiles’s shoulder while he went back and forth with Isaac and Scott about their sex lives. To be frank you were bored and listening to them go on and on wasn’t helping.

You’d grown up with Scott and Stiles so hearing them talk about their sex lives was nothing out of the ordinary-hell half the time you were the one giving them advice. But the conversation was sounding redundant-it was testosterone filled and they all sounded like they wanted to one-up one another so bad. 

It was the first week back from college for summer and you hadn’t expected to be in Derek’s old loft with just the three of them. He gave you the keys when he left Beacon Hills-only coming back every few months. You were supposed to be having a movie night with the pack, but seeing as Lydia was spending the night with her mother stating that she needed to catch up. Then Kira was on her annual visit to see the skinwalkers, making sure that she still had full control of her fox-taking Malia with her so she could better learn control over her emotions. Then Allison was with her father. Oh and you couldn’t forget how Liam and Hayden were literally having sex somewhere.

“How the hell did I get stuck with you three-where’s Mason?” you groaned when Stiles shrugged, your head moving slightly-making you uncomfortable. So you rolled your eyes again and sat up. Moving the remote, placing it between your thighs alongside your phone. 

“Did you forget how he’s literally terrified of you?” you let out a sigh at Scott’s words “It was one time!” “you almost killed him” “He scared me! We were fighting fucking Berserkers and he wanted to sneak up on me! I didn’t even touch him” “Yeah because Malia pulled him out of the way.” You mumbled a ‘whatever’ under your breath, crossing your arms over your chest, watching them all jump right back into their conversation about all of their ‘wild collegiate sexcapades’-well minus Stiles, he just talked about Lydia and some of the things they did-but not in detail because ‘she’s gonna kill me if I say that’.

“What about you y/n?” you furrowed your brows glancing at Scott “what about me?” “I mean we all know that you were hooking up with Th-” “Finish the name and I’ll rip your head off Scott” he laughed “but what about now? You gotta be doing something with someone-it’s college” you shrugged, however before you could respond Isaac decided to hop into the conversation.

“Wait-you're not a virgin?” Scott and Stiles laughed at his question, he stared at the both of them with a confused expression. “You’re so dense Isaac. Are you sure there’s a functioning brain in there?” he rolled his eyes “I’m supposed to believe that you’re not a virgin? You’re always all shy and shit around people” you rolled your eyes.

“I’m not shy. I just don’t like people. It’s that simple Lahey” he slowly nodded his head, looking over at Scott and Stiles. “So you didn’t know about her and Theo?” you groaned, throwing your phone at Scott-watching him easily catch it. “Shut the fuck up McCall. Do I have to bring up those few months when you were banging Malia? Oh wait I just did-whoops” 

He groaned, throwing your phone back at you, watching you easily catch it-werewolf senses and all. “y/n you didn’t need to bring that up” you looked over at Stiles, raising a brow “I’ll bring up shit about you too-don’t start with me Stilinski. All I gotta say is senior prom you and lyds banged in a school bus.” his eyes widened and he shoved you over, making you laugh at him.

“You said you’d take that to the grave!” “Yeah well Scott said he wouldn’t tell anyone else about me and Theo but now look at us!” “what does Scott have to do with me?!” “You both were there when we had the conversation-you both get to suffer the consequences!” he shook his head “that’s not exactly fair” “life isn’t fair Stilinski-don’t make me bring other shit up-keep arguing”

He scoffed “seriously? You were the one who had a quickie in my Jeep!” you scoffed “You let me! Don’t forget how you banged someone in my bed at a party junior year! You always say you were drunk but you knew exactly what you were doing!” Scott laughed at the both of you, so when you both turned your head to stare at him he shook his head.

“Don’t start-I didn’t laugh-I’m sorry” you nodded your head slowly “almost as sorry as you were when your mom caught you and that blonde fucking on the kitchen table winter break last year” his mouth dropped “you said freshman year was always off limits! We all make shitty decisions as freshmen in college!” you shrugged.

“Maybe next time you’ll learn how to keep your mouth shut McCall” “Keep my mouth shut? Really-you should’ve kept your mouth shut senior year before the first game of the season when you were on your knees in Coach’s office” your mouth dropped “You act like we all haven’t hooked up in Coach’s office at least once”

“For the record we-” he pointed at himself and Scott “-never got caught-you were caught with a whole dick in your mouth” you elbowed Stiles. “You were caught in the locker room showers! Fuck you!” 

Isaac stared at the entire encounter, blinking, trying to process all of the new information. He was confused as to how the three of you could just go back and forth like that, then start laughing about it.

“At least I didn’t have a sex dream about someone in the pack” your eyes widened at Stiles’s statement “You both had sex with two people in the pack! Fuck off” Scott rose a brow at you, then his eyes flickered between you and Isaac, making you shake your head. “Don’t do it Scott-I will literally stab you” 

He shook his head “I dunno y/n I think the dirt I have on you definitely chumps anything that you were going to say.” you scoffed “oh really because last time I checked I know everything about you McCall-we were in diapers together or did you forget?” 

“What the hell is going on” “Stay out of it Lahey” he furrowed his brows, taken aback by your attitude, and the low growl you let out. “I just found out a lot about all three of you and I think I have a right to be confused” you laughed, shaking your head.

“If you don’t butt out of this then we’re gonna drag you into it” he scoffed “you literally have nothing on me. We aren’t even friends” you mocked him, mumbling under your breath before smirking and looking over at him.

“Oh I don’t? How about the way that you fucked your alpha’s ex girlfriend? Wow all of you pass each other around like it’s nothing, has mono never been like a concern for you guys?” his eyes widened at your statement, Stiles and Scott both laughing at him. Stiles even gave you a high five.

“How the hell do you even know that?” you shrugged “people talk, and I just happen to listen. Plus y’know supernatural hearing is a thing. You asked to be dragged into this conversation-remember that” When Stiles’s laughter got louder you looked back at him, raising your brows and tilting your head slightly.

“You should really stop laughing Stilinski-you cried after your first time” his mouth dropped “You cried during your first time!” “because it hurt Stiles! Have you ever had a dick shoved into your-ripping you open and stabbing through your hymen? No! The fuck was I supposed to do? Sing twinkle twinkle little star?” He couldn’t stop his laughter-and truth be told you started laughing too. 

“Damn I forgot that you cried during your first time” you looked over at Scott-still laughing “oh shut up-” “Oh my god! I remember the phone call! I was with Stiles and you called him crying in the bathroom because you made the guy stop and you were embarrassed!” your mouth dropped “You said you’d never bring up that phone call!” “Well we’re laying it all on the table today”

“Oh are we now McCall? You came in your pants before your first time!” he blinked a few times “You got fingered in AP Physics!” your jaw dropped “you got a handjob during AP Chemistry you fucking dick!” “Okay ladies I think we should all stop now before it gets too deep into the sexcapades box” This time you and Scott both looked at each other then at Stiles.

“You got a blowjob during detention with Harris half asleep in the room” “From Harley at that-you know how y/n feels about Harley” you nodded your head at Scott’s words. Stiles stared at the both of you not knowing what to say-but when Isaac laughed again the three of you turned to look at him.

“If I were you I’d stop laughing Lahey” “Y/n you literally have nothing else on me” you shrugged “but they do” “yeah kinda like the way that you were caught beating one out in the locker room before playoffs senior year” your eyes widened and you couldn’t help but laugh at Scott’s words.

“In the locker room? Not even the bathroom? The scent of sweaty guys gets you off Lahey?” “shut the fuck up y/n” he watched you raise a brow at him-a smirk on your face “you should tell me to shut the fuck up more often” Scott and Stiles both laughed at Isaacs shocked expression-realizing that he had no clue about your flirting. 

“Why? You into that?” you laughed at his horribly timed flirting-knowing that he had to think of some kind of comeback. “You’re horrible at flirting, how’d you manage to get into anyone's pants again?” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “We told you to stay out of it Isaac, and now look at you-butthurt and confused” “will you just shut the fuck up y/n?” 

You felt heat rise to your ears at his tone, but you easily played it off. “Wait! You had the sex dream about Aiden!” you slowly turned to look at Stiles “the fuck are you going on about. No I didn’t. Stilinski lay off the weed-you’re losing brain cells” “you definitely did” “I definitely didn’t-how are you going to tell me who I had a sex dream about?” “wait who was it about then?” you bit your lip, shaking your head.

“So now we’re keeping things from one another?” “Stiles it’s not keeping things-you’re just dense and forgot” “well I need a reminder so I can make fun of you for it” “too bad Stilinski!” Scott laughed, grabbing his phone and texting the groupchat with just you, stiles, and him titled ‘the three blind mice’. 

You grabbed your phone, reading the message and rolling your eyes, elbowing Stiles, motioning to your phone-showing him the screen. “It was about Isaac?” your eyes widened and your mouth dropped. “Stiles...when people text you something, you don’t fucking say it outloud!” Scott groaned, running a hand through his hair, shaking his head at Stiles.

“You had a sex dream about me?” you slowly looked over at Isaac, an awkward smile on your face “uhm-yes-but not recently-that’d be weird” “it was recent-it was like last month” “Stiles stop talking. You let Lydia tie you to your bed you bastard” he cleared his throat awkwardly when Isaac let out an ‘ohh-you’re that kind of guy’. 

“y/n are you just going to avoid my question?” “Lahey fuck off” “I always knew you were into me” “I’m not into you, you prick” he laughed, and you growled. Scott’s eyes widened-so he stood up, and grabbed his keys “uh Stiles and I are gonna go get some food-uh yeah we’ll be back” with that it was just you and Isaac.

He stared at you, eyes trailing over your figure, stopping at your exposed legs-the shorts you had on left little to imagination-a direct contrast from the baggy hoodie you wore. “So you did have a wet dream about me” you shook your head, avoiding his gaze, looking down at your phone-spamming messages to Stiles and Scott. “What was it about?” you tried not to focus on his chemosignals-or the way his voice sounded-and the way his gaze felt like it was burning into you.

He moved from his seat, sitting next to you on the couch-grabbing the remote from between your thighs, letting his fingers brush against your skin for a moment. “So we’re not gonna talk about it?” “I don’t wanna talk about it Lahey.” “Why? You don’t wanna admit that you want me to fuck you?” your eyes widened at his bluntness. He leaned over, closer to your face.

“Lahey shut the hell up” “y’know it makes sense that you were fucking Raken, you were a lot nicer then-maybe you just need a little relief” you let out a deep breath, trying to ignore his breath against your ear and neck. “Or maybe I’m mean because I don’t sleep enough. Let’s use our thinking caps” he laughed, leaning closer, his lips a few millimeters away from your ear “I could put you to sleep” 

He heard your breath hitch, he could smell your chemosignals-the arousal practically radiated off of you. You felt his lips against the side of your neck-peppering small kisses along the skin. You tried to ignore him-but you couldn’t. “Isaac-stop” he lightly grazed his teeth along your skin before pulling away. “Tell me what the dream was about and I’ll move” you bit your lip, looking down at your hands.

“We just-uh-y’know. It wasn’t all that” “you’re lying-your heartbeat skipped-so tell me the truth” his dominant tone brought heat to your face-and to your core. “What were we doing-what was I doing” you let out a slight whimper at his fingers lingering on your thigh. 

“Isaac-” “I love the way you say my name” his lips were back on your neck, except this time you tilted your head, giving him more room. “Was it something like this?” his hand trailed further up your thigh, gently spreading them-then squeezing your inner thigh-making you whimper. “Or maybe like this” his teeth bit down on your skin-earning a moan from you. 

His fingers moved towards your heat-you bit your lip resisting the urge to buck your hips. He was now licking and sucking marks into your skin, one of your hands in his hair-lightly tugging at the roots. “What happens next?” you gave in, your other hand on top of his, guiding it to your clothes heat “if you don’t tell me what to do-I won’t do it” you whimpered.

“Isaac-please” he smirked, kissing your skin again-except he moved his hand past your heat, traveling upwards, under your hoodie-feeling the warmth from your skin. You didn’t expect him to keep trailing his hand up-grabbing one of your breasts-massaging it. “Isaac-” “God-never stop moaning my name” “you’re a cocky asshole” your words were whimpers, making him smirk. 

He moved away from you, helping you pull the hoodie off, tossing it on the ground, leaving you in a bralette and shorts. He got off the couch, standing in front of you, dropping to his knees. You watched him rub his hands against your thighs, trailing them upwards, tugging at the waistband of the shorts. “Take them off-please Isaac” with that he was pulling them down-alongside your panties. 

You closed your legs once they were off-biting your lip, looking down at him. He slowly pulled them apart, trailing kisses against the skin. He looked up at you, getting closer and closer to your core-then he stopped. “You gonna tell me what happens next now?” you groaned “Isaac just fucking eat my pussy and shut the hell up” he laughed “there she is” with that he licked a stripe up your center, repeating the motion a few times before swirling his tongue around your clit. “Oh fuck-” “feel good hmm?” “yes-fuck isaac” your hands were in his hair, tugging at the strands, trying to grip something.

He wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking on it before moving back, spitting on it then taking it back in his mouth. He knew he was doing it for show-but he also knew how turned on you were right now. His tongue moved lower, teasing you-moaning against your center. “Please-fuck please” he stared up at you, taking in your facial expressions, the slight arch to your back, the way your lips were slightly parted while your eyes were shut. 

Your moan was almost animalistic when his tongue started darting in and out of you at a fast pace-as if he was claiming you as his own. In the moment you were his-and this was his way of showing you that. He felt you bucking your hips, so he got even closer to you, one of his hands holding the top of your thigh-practically pinning you between the couch and him. 

“Fuck me” your words dragged and he smirked, continuing his fast motions-lapping up all of your wetness-trying to collect every last drop of it. He loved the way you tasted, and the way you were practically dripping for him. He moved his tongue back up to your clit, flicking it at a fast pace before sucking on it again-making you moan louder and louder.

You didn’t expect two of his fingers to slide into your entrance, curling perfectly, hitting that velvety spot inside of you that made your toes curl while you all but begged for your orgasm. The coil in your abdomen getting tighter and tighter at the feeling of his mouth against your clit-fingers moving at a fast pace inside of you. 

“I’m gonna cum-fuck Isaac I’m gonna cum” he slid a third finger into you-making you buck your hips, while he sucked on your clit. You felt the coil finally pop-your thighs shaking around him-your head fell back-your back arching against the couch. He moaned against you-but he didn’t expect you to squirt-however he let out a satisfied hum at the motion-his tongue lapping up your release before sliding back into your entrance. 

He tongue fucked you-listening to your moans, feeling your hips buck against him. You were a moaning mess above him, the overstimulation already setting in while he kept his harsh movements up. When you were on the brink of another orgasm he used his fingers to rub against your clit, pushing you over the edge again.

Then he looked up at you, licking his lips. You were trying to catch your breath, your hands still in his hair-your wetness covering his chin. “Y’know usually I get to kiss the girl before I have her screaming my name” you blinked a few times, processing what he said “fuck you Lahey” “trust me-you will” your eyes widened, but he just stood up, picking you up like you were nothing, throwing you over his shoulder-smacking your ass before walking you back to your room then placing you on the bed.

“So how’d we fuck in your dream” you bit your lip again, not wanting to admit it. “If you don’t tell me-I’ll edge you all night” you watched him take off his shirt while kicking off his shoes-before unbuttoning his pants, staring at you. “You gonna answer my question?” you rolled your eyes, sitting up slightly, taking off the bralette-throwing it at him.

He watched you get on your knees, your face resting against your pillow-ass in the air-legs spread perfectly for him-and your arch. Seeing your arch made him moan. “Holy shit.” “Are you gonna fuck me or just stare at my pussy” his eyes widened at your words-taking off his pants and his boxers. 

He stroked himself a few times, staring at you-the way you wiggled your ass slightly-the way your pussy was glistening-reflecting the golden hues from the fairy lights on the ceiling. Your wetness dripping down your thighs slowly-and the way you reached back with one of your hands, showing him more of yourself.

“Isaac-please-I need you to fuck me” your whiney tone made him blush-he never took you as the vulgar type-hell he never took you as anything but innocent. Sure you had a temper-but you were always so reserved around him-he would’ve never thought you’d be lying face down ass up begging for his cock. He was quick with his movements, grabbing your hip-before stopping for a second.

“I’m on the pill Isaac-now fuck me” with that he lined himself up with your entrance-moaning at the feeling of your wetness against him-then he bottomed out in one quick stroke-the motion making you scream-your eyes flashing for a second before going back to normal. He didn’t give you any time to adjust-instead he kept his movements up-his hips snapping into yours-listening to your animalistic moans.

“You’re so fucking tight-fuck” you nodded your head, moaning, gripping the sheets. He was bigger than you were used to-but you loved every second of it. You were a moaning mess-fighting the urge to scream. Feeling your body get pushed past your limits-feeling him fuck you harder than you’d ever been fucked before. 

But it felt ethereal. 

He gripped your hip, his fingers were holding onto you tight enough to leave bruises against your skin-but you didn’t care-you’d heal anyways. He shifted the angle slightly, moaning when he felt you clench around him. “Isaac-fuck-right there-right fucking there” He continously hit your g-spot, listening to your lewd moans, and cries. 

You felt yourself getting closer and closer to another orgasm-and he sensed it. “You gonna cum again huh? Cum around my cock?” you nodded your head “yes-fuck yes” you moved one of your arms, trying to push him away-your orgasm coming too fast. Instead he gripped your arm, holding it behind your back, continuing his deep thrusts.

“You’re gonna fucking take it.” “please-isaac-fuck it’s too much” he laughed, his hips snapping into yours faster-you didn’t even think that was possible. You felt your eyes completely shift-but little did you know his did too. 

When your orgasm hit you screamed his name, begging him for more-not realizing that you’d been begging. He let out a guttural moan, clenching his jaw, fucking you through your orgasm. Then he pulled out, moaning-seeing the way your juices coated his cock-the sight of your fucked out pussy making him smirk. 

He leaned over, tongue back in your entrance, making you moan his name-the hand he was holding back now in his hair-while he lapped up your juices, then sucked on your clit for a few minutes. He pressed his tongue flat against your cunt-listening to you moan while he went back and forth between toying with your clit and tongue fucking you. 

You all but cried when your next orgasm washed over you-coating the lower half of his face in your juices again. “You taste so fucking good” you nodded your head against the pillow, slightly out of breath. He pulled away, watching your hips fall-laying flat against your bed. 

He helped you roll over, smacking your ass in the process. You lazily spread your legs, looking up at him with hooded eyes. He finally kissed you-your lips connecting-you moaned, tasting yourself. His lips were softer than you expected-one of your hands back in his hair. He realized you had a thing for his hair pretty quickly. But he liked the way you tugged it.

You weren’t even fighting for control-you let him have dominance over you-you liked it that way. His tongue explored the newfound territory and you moaned into the kiss-feeling his hand between your thighs, lightly rubbing your clit. He pulled back to catch his breath-but you bit his lower lip, making sure to tug it slightly before letting it go.

He trailed kisses down your jaw and onto your throat, moving down, kissing over your shoulders, biting into the skin-sure to leave a mark. Then he kissed between your breasts, moving to the right one, licking and sucking more marks into your skin-pulling your nipple between his teeth, hearing you moan at the feeling. 

When he moved to your left breast your back arched slightly, feeling his fingers speed up against your clit. Your breath hitched and you closed your eyes, moaning his name alongside a few curses. He knew you were going to cum again-so he quickened his motions-bringing you to the edge-but as soon as you said “I’m gonna cum-fuck Isaac” he stopped-pulling his fingers back.

“You’re not cumming unless I’m using my mouth or my cock. You understand that?” you nodded your head, looking at him with hooded eyes. At this point you’d do anything for another orgasm. “Fill me with your cock then” he blushed slightly, before shaking his head and lining himself up with your entrance-easing his way in this time. But when you moaned “more” he bottomed out.

You had him wrapped around your finger and didn’t even know. 

He didn’t bother with a slow pace-instead he grabbed one of your legs, resting your ankle against his shoulder, one hand on your thigh-the other reaching up, wrapping around your throat. You moaned at the feeling, gripping his forearm. 

Then he started pounding into you with no remorse, the sounds of your whimpers and moans only motivating him to keep going. For the most part your eyes were closed while he fucked into you-relishing in the feeling. That was the thing about being a werewolf-you had a high sex drive.

He let out a loud growl-feeling his orgasm building up faster and faster. So he fucked you faster and faster-hearing you scream his name in a chant-clenching around him-you were greedy for more. You opened your eyes-looking up at him, feeling the blue glow take over your pupils. He bit his lip, looking at you-seeing the primal side of you taking over.

“Isaac! I’m cumming! Fuck I’m cumming-yes-yes-yes” he bit his lip looking down at you, seeing your eyes roll back, feeling you clench around him-coating him with your release. He let out another guttural moan, his eyes flashing, a loud growl leaving his chest while he came-the feeling of him coating your walls in his release was euphoric.

He stayed like that for a second-then he took his hand off your throat, grabbing your ankle-holding your leg up before slowly pulling out of you, listening to your whimpers. He smirked when he looked down at the mess the both of you made-his cock covered in the mixture of your orgasms, your fucked out pussy dripping with the mixture of his cum and yours. 

“That’s so fucking sexy” you bit your lip, catching your breath-feeling your pussy dripping. You moaned when you felt him rub your clit more, trying to close your legs but he kept them open-his grip on your ankle tightened when he felt you try to move. “You’re gonna squirt again for me right?” his dominant tone made you nod your head “yes-fuck” your voice was low and your moans were raspy.

He slid two digits into your entrance, his thumb on your clit, his fingers against your g-spot while his thumb rubbed your clit. You felt your orgasm building up again-you were getting closer and closer. He moaned at the sight-feeling you clench around his fingers-sliding a third one into you. He kept his motions up, seeing your back arch and your eyes roll back, your orgasm flooding through you-taking over your senses-making you see stars.

Isaac let out an audible moan, watching you squirt, your thighs, his hand, and the bed under you were now an even bigger mess. “God I’m hard again” “So fuck me again” his eyes widened, not expecting that. “Are you sure you can take it?” you nodded your head, biting your lip “I’m a werewolf aren't I?” he dropped your leg, lining himself up with your sopping pussy, bottoming out again. 

This time he leaned over, kissing you while his hips pistoned into you-knowing the perfect angle, feeling you clench around him. Your nails dug into his back-one of your legs wrapped around his waist while he fucked you. 

“You’re so fucking pretty-fuck” you smirked, looking at him. “So-you think-I’m pretty?” your words were a mixture between a whimper and a moan. He rolled his eyes, kissing you again, swallowing your harsh moans-feeling your claws lightly dig into his skin-moaning at the sensation. 

It was so raw, primal, and it was sending him closer and closer. He pulled away from the kiss, some of his hair sticking to his forehead, one of his hands on your waist, holding you down. You didn’t know his hips could move any faster-but they did-and you were chanting his name, lost in a world of euphoria.

“I’m close-fuck” “cum in me Isaac-please-fucking fill me” he kissed your shoulder, moaning against the skin while he kept his pace up-then he felt it. He bit down on your shoulder-the intensity of that mixed with the pleasure from his cock made you scream-your final orgasm taking over-making you see stars-lost in a world of pleasure that you’d never experienced before. 

The two of you stayed like that for a few minutes, his head against your shoulder, your leg around his waist, hands against his back. He slowly pulled out of you, gently kissing your skin while you whimpered at the emptiness alongside the soreness. 

“Was it as good as your dream?” you lightly hummed, feeling yourself drifting closer to sleep. “You gonna fall asleep huh?” you shook your head-but you knew you were lying. “You can’t even talk” “mm-fuck off lahey” your voice was raspy, making him laugh. He got off of you-taking a second to grab a towel from your bathroom, wetting it, then cleaning the mess up between your thighs-you hardly registered the motions. 

By the time he laid down next to you, you were asleep. He smiled, wrapping an arm around you, nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck, and slowly drifting off to sleep with you.

-taglist and moots-

@bloodyheavcn @girlsru1eboysdroo1 @diverdcwn @socialwriter @anxietyandtacos @rae131415 @jellyfishbeansontoast @outerbankslut @stfukie @obx-slut @midnightmagicmusings @chinamolina602 @danielsharmannn @rudyypankow @rekrappeter @popeheywards @mayraki @https-luna @maybanksmalfoy @butgilinsky @ijustreallylovethem @bxileyclxne @starkeyseguin  @milaonthemoon @pit-zuh @spideymyluv @tempestuousjj

[lyraeon]

how did you end up making captions, for hc recap and/or in general? it's something i've wanted to do for a while but am not entirely sure how or where to start

Honestly, I just use YouTube's built in subtitle editor. It doesn't have a *ton* of functionality but it's fairly intuitive (shift+space to start/stop, shit+arrows to go back and forward by 5 seconds) and fast.

I start with the "edit as text" function and transcribe it there, then do a second pass where I break up lines that have obvious pauses (like if the last three words of a sentence are said after a pause for emphasis).

Then I wait for like 20 minutes for YouTube to auto-sync the captions, which it does an ok job of but not perfect. I usually have to spend another ~2x the vid length tweaking the timings on them but it's still faster than trying to break it up myself.

There's software out there that lets you do more advanced things like adding colors, but I'm still learning those. I did some captioning for a college video course back in like 2010 (temp agencies hand you the wildest jobs) so I've used official like, for TV closed captioning software before, and it's pretty straightforward except that it usually does the words as they appear instead of line by line. Any of those can be used and just uploaded right to youtube.

I'd suggest picking a short video of a couple minutes, maybe a twitch clip or something, as a practice to try out the software.

....

I just realized you probably meant "how did I wind up doing it" not literally how do I do it, whoops.

I'd had the prior experience doing it that I described above and I was looking for some freelance work to help pad the whole "leap of faith'd into being a full time creator so I didn't have to go back to work during the pandemic" thing; mostly I was doing copyediting but I did a little transcribing too. Zloy already had me checking each Recap ep for errors before it went out just cuz we're friends, and I was helping out with tags/descriptions for him and a couple others, so he decided that just officially hiring me to do the captions would be a win-win for us since he'd get captions and a dedicated paperwork person for the channel and I'd get my bills paid.

In general it's a job I enjoy cuz I'm a fast typer anyway and I'm the kind of person who really can only listen to one thing at a time, so I can't multitask during videos anyway. Ironically I don't do it much for my own vids cuz I get tired of trying to caption my friends, since it feels like it takes some fun out of it listening to the same line 30 times, even though I consider that exact sort of thing fun for the Recap and others' videos. (I think I just don't process my friends' words as words anymore, I'm so used to them talking that it gets auto-processed by my brain.)

Oh also I used to be like, hyper-particular about spelling and grammar, and helped grade papers in college and such as a result, so the accuracy necessary to make sure stuff's legible for ESL peeps and for the language to auto-translate where possible is pretty natural to me too. Obviously I'm not as much of a stickler in my everyday speech anymore, but as a writer it's still all very instinctive?

tldr I LIKE TYPING but I can't do it fast enough to be a court reporter so fuck it, write down the words that the minecraft people say so that all may enjoy the puns.

[grass-and-citrus]

Butler isn't an animal?

(Spoiler warning for The Eternity Code I guess??)

Something I’ve always found interesting is errors in printed media, since once something is published and printed out, you can’t exactly take it back or fix it, unlike with digital media! Mistakes, typos, poorly worded phrases, or small factual errors are bound to happen sometimes, with us only being human and all! Even with tools to check spelling and grammar, and there being editors to review writing before it gets published, things can still slip under the radar. The most interesting of these are ones that change the whole meaning of a sentence! I’ve seen some books where a character’s name is accidentally exchanged for another, which leads to a bit of confusion, I think there’s actually an instance of that exact thing in the second Fowl Twins book, whoops!

There is one particular error in the Eternity Code that stood out to me as soon as I read it initially when I was in the 7th grade, on page 89:

(I put my ramblings under the cut)

If you can’t see/read the picture, here’s a transcription:

“Dr. Lane administered glucose injections in the van. ‘These are to stop the cells collapsing,’ She informed Artemis, massaging Butler’s chest to circulate the medication. ‘Otherwise, the water in his blood will freeze in spikes and puncture the cell walls.’”

My 13-year-old brain immediately knew something was off here, as that year I had been learning in science about the structure of cells. This included how while all cell types have a cell membrane, the cells of animals do not have a cell wall. So essentially, this small scientific error not only implies that Butler is non-human, but classes him out of the Animalia kingdom entirely! 

[Image source]

If this were said in-universe, there are really only two possibilities:

1. Artemis, uncharacteristically, held his tongue in this situation despite asking other clarifying questions after this.

OR

2. Artemis didn’t question this information because he knew it to be true of Butler’s biological makeup.   

While of course, in reality, this is just a small oversight on Colfer’s part that wasn’t caught by himself or his editor, I like to humor this idea being canon. If this was an inaccurate comment by Dr. Lane, why wouldn’t have Artemis pointed this out to her? The Artemis we know, especially at this point in the series, would lambast anyone who were to make such an elementary mistake! But, if this is true for Butler, what exactly IS he? A plant, fungus, bacteria, algae, or archaea? Could this status of being non-animal have contributed to his miraculous survival in the Eternity Code? Who knows! 

The “is the C-Cube red or blue” discourse is so last decade, we need to discuss what sort of organism Domovoi Butler is!

TL;DR

According to the Eternity Code, Butler’s body consists of cells with a cell wall, meaning he can’t be an animal and thus might be something else!

[louisapennyfeather2021]

Honestly I don’t remember if I asked you to do this or noy, but can you do an imagine where y/n is rich so she takes racetrack out to dinner with her wealthy family and he blows it so he takes her to a club and shows her how to “be poor” kinda like the titanic scene? Sorry if I already asked this I have a sucky memory haha

Hello! I told you all I'd get this before Friday!

It's not very long because I had a limited amount of time, but I hope you enjoy!

I used They/Them pronouns again since so many of you were surprised/happy to see them last time😊

Race x Reader

Y/F/N= Your First Name

Y/L/N= Your Last Name

Y/N= Your Name

Summary: Y/N has taken Race to meet their mother at a dinner party that doesn't go as planned, do Race takes Y/N to a real party.

A/N: Very similar to the scene from Titanic. I will say, it's not the best since I haven't seen the movie in forever, but I promise I did my best!

***

"This is the most insane idea you've ever had." Antonio Higgins, better known as Racetrack for his uncanny ability to out maneuver most of the snobbish officers onboard the ship, cringes as he's all but stuffed into a tight suit.

"Relax, it's just a dinner. If I know you, and I do, you can last for at least an hour." Y/F/N Y/L/N rolls their eyes and straightens Race's suit. The lanky boy squirms and mutters under his breath as he try to get comfortable in the pristine articles of clothing.

"If you think I can last an hour without being able to breathe, you really are insane." Race whines as he quickly dodges Y/N's hands as they try to smooth down the mess of blond curls. "'Ey, watch it! Don'tcha know how long it takes me to get this perfect mix of messy and stylish?"

"I'm guessing not as long as it takes to wash out the dirt and grime." Y/N rolls their eyes for the billionth time in the last hour before careful straightening their own clothes.

With much opposition from almost all parties involved, Y/N's mother convinced them to invite Race to a dinner party. One at the dining hall for first class passengers. One with not just Y/N's mother, but also their potential fiancé and potential future mother in law. Of course Race has a high class guardian there for him, but that's nothing compared to two snooty women and an obnoxiously egotistical man. Obviously Y/N and Race were opposed, but Y/N couldn't exactly say no to their mother. She even opposed the event, but she already has a vendetta against the poor boy because Y/N spends more time with Race than anyone else on board.

"'Ey, the grime is a fashion statement." Race sticks his chin in the air and straightens his back to make him even taller.

"Yeah, okay." Y/N shakes their head. It's quickly followed by a knock on the door before Race's guardian, a man known as Jack Kelly by most, sticks his head in the door.

"I'm hopin' you both are ready. I'm not sure bein' late is what we need right now." Jack nearly mumbles the last part, his fingers tapping anxiously on the door to the cabin.

"Don't worry, Y/N got me as cleaned up as any heathen could ever be." Race smirks, receiving and shove on the shoulder from Y/N. Both huff before quickly walking towards the door and following Jack to the main deck. Y/N avoids looking at Race as the three walk along the railing in route for the first class dining hall. Ever since the, well, incident, Race has never let Y/N be by the railing alone. Whether Y/N's mother was watching from afar or not, Race didn't feel comfortable with himself if Y/N was left alone bear the railing. Y/N can still feel his eyes on them everyday, especially when they go out for some fresh air. Well, as fresh as it can get on the open ocean.

"Alright, I'm beggin' you to not do something dumb. At least not dumber than usual." Jack sighs, a look in his eyes like he already knows this will be a mess. Y/N thinks it can't possibly end horribly. It's just a dinner. What's the worst that could happen?

***

"I can't believe that just happened." Y/N speed walks out of the dining hall with wide eyes and stiff limbs. It wasn't even that bad in retrospect, but to people like her mother and Mrs. Delancey? It's barbarian. Y/N isn't even going to consider what Oscar's thinking. The man can hardly function without insulting someone or something.

"It wasn't that bad, right?" Race asks, an optimistic edge in his voice.

"No, no. Really, no. At least not to me or Jack." Y/N tries to suppress the "but", but feeling Race's eyes on them makes them crack. "But to my mother that's just embarrassing."

"Seriously? It was just a spoon! Spoons are used to eat food! It doesn't matter what food, they're just used for food!" Race exclaims, waving his arms around dramatically.

"Race, to them it makes you look poor and uneducated. That's probably the most important thing to those women." Y/N sighs. They're not embarrassed by Race, they never could be, but they know Race is embarrassed of himself by how flustered he is and how he occasionally chews aggressively on his bottom lip.

"Y'know what, screw it. Follow me!" Race suddenly grabs Y/N's hand and starts running. He ignores yelling from boat officers telling them to stop running, making Y/N supress a laugh. He's quick the throw open a deck door and start descending the tight stairwell.

"Race, where on earth are we going?" Race suddenly stops at one of the platforms of the stairwell, making Y/N nearly crash into his back.

"You wanna go to a real party?"

***

"This is madness!" Y/N is yelling over cheers and music, but they're smiling ear to ear. They stand near a pillar in the small room, watching people make music from makeshift instruments while others dance around. It's nothing like the posh ballroom dancing they've come to know. It actually looks fun.

"Come on! Join the madness then!" Race suddenly grabs Y/N's hands and pulls them into the small group. Y/N is suddenly blushing and bowing their head from suddenly being a figment of attention to the small crowd.

"Race, I don't know the steps!" Y/N yells, trying to give Race a look that will make him take Y/N back to their pillar.

"Neither do I!" Race is grinning as he suddenly tanks Y/N until they're hoping in a circle together to the Irish Jig. Y/N starts laughing as they spin, hands clasped as they nearly trip over each other.

"This is so much more fun than that dinner party." Y/N throws their head back as they continue to spin in a dizzying circle with Race.

"Welcome to third class, baby!" Race whoops, making others around him cheer. Hardly anyone is actually dancing. It's more like a pit of jumping and spinning, but it's actually fun.

It's the most fun Y/N's had in their entire life.

And it's with Race.

***

Sorry if there were any spelling or grammar errors. I hope you liked it, I know it's short and kind of vague and definitely not the best, but I made a promise to finish it before Friday and, by golly, I did. For once I actually did something on time😂

[the-enby-bird]

If you get this, answer with 3 random facts about yourself and send it to the last 7 blogs in your notifications, anonymously or not! Let’s get to know the person behind the blog! ❤️

(Heh, forgot to answer the first one of these I got) (whoops) (well i'm sorry i live in constant fear of oversharing or something) (Anyway)

About me... I'm boring! Very much so! But um!

*I'm a huge history geek and when somebody gives me even the slightest chance i will rant about ancient Greece for hours

*i have an odd and apparently very worrying to everyone besides myself obsession with mushrooms (They're just really cool okay)

*and my pet peeve is spelling errors, despite the amount of spelling errors i make myself. like, grammar errors i'm good with, but spelling? jesus fuck how hard is it to learn how to use spellcheck, which is fucking built into almost all devices yes i am looking at you mrs. wheeldon how the fuck are you a teacher when you have the spelling capabilities of a brain-dead mongoose- and this has turned into a rant about last year's science teacher, nice!

Anyway hope you enjoyed the demonstration of how absolutely boring of a person i am