#sorry if his seems shorter rip

[nyxxxatnite]

Minor Malfunctions

plot: Zed’s Z-Band decides to send him into an odd frenzy

pairing(s): Zed Necrodopolis x afab!cheerleader!reader

warning(s): 18+, SMUT SO SMUTTY, this might be shitty im sorry, doggy style, (slight) non-con, frenzy!Zed, sort of in heat style?, biting, sorta breeding????, public sex, p in v, no protection (WRAP IT PEOPLE), CHARACTERS ARE 18 AND ARE SENIORS

a/n: YALL IM SO TIRED OF THERE NOT BEING SMUT FOR ZED PLUS I NEEDED THIS TO BE OUT IN THE WORLD!

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this could not be happening to him. The loud beeping filled his ear drums as he stared at his watch. He accidentally had knocked a drink over onto his watch and somehow it had made it freak out. He was trying to go to school as fast as he could to see if Eliza could help in any way, slowly but surely his mind was starting to fuzz up and he was losing any sense of control.

the sound of cheers could be heard from the football field outside of Seabrook High, the familiar sound of his girlfriends voice louder than any of the other cheerleaders was ringing in his ears. And just like that any of the control he had built up was out the window. His body was overly hot and his mouth felt dry. But this was different from his usual zombie frenzies. He wasn’t thirsting for flesh, or any sort of human anything…well. That was a lie. His body was aching all over and he felt a sudden tightness in his black jeans. Was this frenzy…making him aroused?

he let out a low growl as he skulked onto the field, watching the cheer team disperse leaving his familiar love alone. The closer he got the more he could smell her, and the worse the heat felt surrounding him. The shorter girl heard the footsteps and spun around, making immediately eye contact with the zombie teen. Her bright smile would usually cause him to smile as well but with his frenzy in action he only gave a snarl.

“Zed! I thought you had gone home….hey, are you feeling okay,” her question seemed to go unheard as he reached her.

His arms shot out and grabbed ahold of her, yanking her into his chest roughy as he buried his face into her neck. For a few brief seconds he just smelt her, feeling his mouth started to salivate from her delicious scent. Every fiber of his being was crying out to taste her fully, to put her into his mouth.

“zed, you’re kind of scaring me right now,” she let out a whimper as Zed pressed against her more.

his mouth opened and latched onto her skin, listening to the sharp intake she took. She tasted so delicious, like a batch of cookies…if they had been outside cheerleading and had been spritzed with sweetpea perfume. He gave a groan as he started to leave open mouth kisses along her neck, listening to her let out shaky moans. She tried to push him away to fully look a him but he swatted her hands away and held her tight to his chest.

It was only a few minutes of him marking her up, took entranced by her taste but the brain fog cleared just enough for him to slide his hands up her uniform shirt, listening to her squeak as his cold fingers brushed along her soft skin. His fingers brushed along each of her ribs before grabbing ahold of her breasts, groaning as he realized she wasn’t wearing a bra at all. She flinched away a bit which caused him to let out an angry growl. He pulled his face back and, with the strength given to him by the frenzy, ripped her cheer top clean down the middle.

The girl went to complain but was knocked speechless as she was taken down to the ground. Her breath was gone but only for a second as Zed pulled her cheer skirt up her thighs to pool around her hips and then ripped both her underwear cover and her panties themselves off her body leaving her practically naked to him.

the panic began to set in as she realized they were out in the middle of a field at school. She had prayed to whatever was up there that no one would come out and catch her with her zombie boyfriend between her legs. Between her legs??? When did he get there? It didn’t matter now, as his hands were moving her legs up a bit to rest on her chest and his face was being buried into her pussy lips. A cry of pleasure and surprise erupted from her chest as her head flew back and hit the ground of the field. Her fingers gripped the grass roughly, trying to keep her grounded as slurping sounds came from the zombie teen. He was slurping her like she was his favorite drink and fuck did it make her even more aroused.

his tongue was poking and prodding at her entrance, carefully lapping up her slick and thrusting deep into the tight cavern. He could already feel his chin become soaked from her arousal, but he didn’t care. She tasted so good and he was fucking starving. He carefully moved to wrap his mouth around her clit and sucked carefully on it, letting his tongue roll figure eights onto the bundle of nerves which caused her whimpers to turn into high pitched moans.

she could already feel herself getting closer to the edge, her eyes crossing a bit as she prepared for the delicious feeling to finally crash over her. But it never came. She moved a bit to look at her boyfriend, to complain that she was almost there but was left speechless as he was pulling his pale hard on from the confines of his skinny jeans. She’d seen it before but each time still surprised her. How could he be that big?

With a swift push she was spun to her hands and knees, her ass being yanked back to him. The knowledge of their location had popped back into her brain and she turned her head to look at him again, “Zed, wait please what if someone-.”

a loud moan erupted from her throat again as Zed pushed into her entrance, her fingers wrapping up in the grass again as he gave no time to adjust as he fully sheathed himself inside her tight cunt. Her head fell forward a bit as she tried to relax herself but Zed had no intentions of letting her relax. He grabbed ahold of her hips in a bruising vice as he started to bring his hips back, only to slam right back into her. And he didn’t stop there. His pace he had set was unforgiving.

the sound of skin on skin was loud on the field, along with the cheerleaders cries of pleasure and shouts of the football captains name. Loud growls were emitting from the zombie teen himself, the need to fill her full of his cum was almost too much to bare. With a push, the cheerleaders face was pressed harshly into the grass and the new found angle had her squeezing tight around her sex crazed boyfriend. The feel of his cock bruising her cervix was started to build up that knot in stomach again and she was so ready for it.

she reached back for her boyfriend and slapped her hand against his arm, her loud sobs of carnal pleasure were fueling both his ego and his frenzy and he could feel himself twitch inside of her. The thought of finally being able to fill her made him let out a animalistic growl and his hips started to fuck even faster into her.

and thats all it took as the cheerleader let out a scream of his name, her cum splashing back against his raging cock sent the zombie himself to orbit. With a few final harsh thrusts he was burying himself deep into her and spilling his seed into her womb. And as her hand fell from his arm, it carefully brushed the z-band and somehow zapped it back to normal.

Zed went back and flopped onto the ground behind him, his chest heaving a bit as he tried to gather himself. And after a beat he shot up again and scrambled to his fucked out girlfriend, eyes wide with concern, “baby. Holy shit i’m so sorry.”

the girl gave a soft whine as she wad picked up and cradled in his arms, shivers running down her spine as she realized her boyfriend was normal again. She leaned into him and closed her eyes, relaxing a bit. “Fucking hell, Zed. What was that?”

He gave an awkward chuckle as he reached to her cheer bag that had been strewn away as he had attacked her earlier. He carefully pulled out the extra leggings she had and tugged them onto her as well as his jersey she also had stashed inside, “i accidentally spilt some juice on it earlier and it went on the fritz. But that frenzy…fuck i don’t know where it came from.”

she stood up on shaky legs following her boyfriend and gripped onto his arms, listening to him chuckle at her shakiness. “Well, whatever it was…it was kind of hot.”

Zed felt his body tense a bit at the his girlfriends new kink discovery and sighed, knowing damn well he’d have to pull it out more.

“you better pay to get me a new uniform, Necrodopolis,” she snapped as she picked up her shredded uniform.

it was worth it, right?

[muzzledhoundsheart]

❧❧❧THE BEAST INSIDE YOUR WALLS❧

Pairing ❧ dark!Gwayne Hightower x (f)reader  

CW ❧ dubcon, blood, fingering (f), oral (m), p in v sex, m!dom, possible typos 

AN ❧ I hope you guys enjoy this one! I had a pretty hard time with deciding if I’m gonna post it or scrap it and work on it another time or completely rewrite it but I think it pulled itself together pretty well in the end. Also sorry for any typos of any kind, I edit everything myself and English is my second language so some stuff slips to the cracks real fast (always makes me want to die when I see it ahaha) 

Fog hung thick over the trees, weaving itself round the crowns, through every branch hanging like shawls. Or more like nooses, Gwayne thought to himself. Him and his men rode through the forrest for hours now, seemingly without an end in sight. At every corner they rounded they found the same scenery, all blurring into one. While he enjoyed the status of being a knight, the glitz and glam of tournaments, young ladies fawning over him and men respecting him. He hated days like these. The sweat in his armor running cold down his back, the uncomfortableness spreading further, seeping deep into his very bones. 

„I see a village there! “, one of his men shouts. Oh, thank the gods he thought. Finally, some rest. He just hopes to find a good meal, a warm bed and a pretty whore to end the day well with. He could see in his men that they were all thinking the same, or at least some variation of it. They were so close they could almost make out the houses now, when suddenly, a shrill scream echoed through the Forrest. The horses were on high alert and almost knocked their riders off. It wasn’t just a scream of fear, it ran much deeper. The men looked to Gwayne unsure of how to proceed. „Sounds like a fucking banshee.“, a shorter roundish man spat with a heavy drawl. „My father used to warn me about them screams in Forrests, they’re luring you in to skin you alive.“, another one said. „Oh horseshite it’s probably just a kid who ran off and now can’t find their way back, serves ´em little cunts right.“ What a troop of heroes, Gwayne thought to himself. 

He took a deep breath and stifled a sigh, „You go on, I shall see if the forrest nymphs truly are calling for me.“ He said with a boyish smirk adorning his lips. The men looked uneasy but accepted his order and started their journey anew. Just as Gwayne was about to turn around to ride deeper into the thicket again he heard another blood curdling scream. His brows furrowed and he gripped the reigns tighter, dashing towards the noise. The closer he seemed to get, the colder his sweat ran down his neck, his thoughts running rampant stringing together gruesome paintings of violence and agony. Another scream, and it sounded awfully close. He drew his sword and the muscles in his pale back pulled taught, shifting underneath his freckled skin and sending a rush of adrenaline through his veins. The sight before him was, however, not what he imagined. 

A young woman was desperately struggling to climb up a mangled tree, she gained some footage and pulled herself up another branch, pained grunts leaving her mouth and blood dripping from her arm and side — drip drip dripping down from the wounds running down to her naked toes. Beneath the tree stood two wolfs, blood and saliva dripping from their snouts, bubbling around the corners making them look rabid, hungry — starving. The wolves didn’t even care about the deafening noise the hooves of his humongous stallion made, no, they were set on her, having already had a taste of her sweet flesh, eager for more.

 Gwayne ceased the opportunity and aimed for one of the wolves, within a few strives he was close enough to slash the back of one of them, their head hanging on by what little sinew the sword didn’t quite reach. This, finally, caught the other wolf's attention and he growled at Gwayne, ready to tear into his horse, pull him off and rip him apart, piece by bloody piece. Gwayne was faster though, stabbing the wolf in it’s side on one swift motion, his sword cutting into the wolf like velvet, releasing a gut-wrenching whimper, the wolf folded into itself while blood spurted out of it’s wound and snout, until his eyes glossed over, and his labored breathing stopped. It was almost beautiful how such such a beastly being perishes so pathetically, he thought, almost forgetting about the woman still hanging desperately onto the rotting branches of the tree in front of him. „My Lady... I’m afraid the branch will break soon.“ 

It took some time for the woman to realize what just happened. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, her chest heaving up and down heavily. Taking in her appearance, now being close enough to do so, Gwayne noticed how she was dressed, a white thin linen dress, almost looking like a nightgown, with nothing else covering her shivering form. Furthermore, the dress was ripped in multiple spots and her blood blossomed into the fabric, spreading like a visceral garden over her attire. She held her side with one hand and Gwayne noticed that her dress was ripped around her breast as well, it laid openly naked above the hand holding her side. What a lucky man Gwayne was. „Thank- thank you Ser. By the gods thank you.“ She breathed out, her voice sounding hoarse and rough. Gwayne dismantled his horse, hiding his almost perverse smile behind this mundane display.

 He approached the tree and held out his hand for her. Standing tall in front of it, he was sure the woman could reach him if she crouched down. „Let me help, my Lady.“ He said in the softest voice he could muster in this moment, his lips stretching into a friendly, warm smile. If only she knew. The woman was still apprehensive but did eventually crouch down and let him aid her in climbing back down. When she was on a brach low enough, Gwayne cupped the back of her knee and hauled her into his arms. She let out a surprised yelp and blinked up at him through thick lashes. The woman was caked in grime and blood, sweat clung to her body like second skin, but she was beautiful, nonetheless. 

„You’re all good now.“, he said, slowly lowering her to the ground while steadying her. Her hand went to her torn dress, trying to hold it up to hide her bareness. Before words could leave her mouth, he already unbuckled his cape and draped it around her shivering form. „What a predicament you were in ,my Lady. If you let me, I would take you to the nearest village to have a healer look at your wounds.“ He said not letting his gentle hold on her shoulders go. His fingertips slowly wandered up and down the familiar fabric in a soothing matter. „I would owe you my life, Ser.“, she haughtily breathed out.

 He was sure she’s lost enough blood to barely be conscious, especially now that the adrenaline is steadily leaving her body. His face contorted into a look of concern, „I might have to look at your wounds now and tend to them as best as I can. Forgive me but you’re looking awfully pale, my Lady.“ She let out an amused sound at that. „You might as well do it now, yes.“ she was swaying, on the cusp of fainting. Gwyane knelt down in front of her, slowly bunching up her skirt. The wound in her side wasn’t as bad as he initially thought, he got up again and assured the woman that he was only getting one of his satchels off his horse. He then proceeded to clean her wounds, dressing them in cloth and sending her assuring looks through his copper lashes. The woman felt like she was dreaming, being saved by such a beautiful kind man. 

He looked like a knight from a fairytale, his face was carved out of ivory, his eyes like the stormy waters that ran through the land and his copper hair falling around his cheekbones framing his pretty face. He got up again, wiping his hands on a cloth, discarding it after by dropping the bloodied cloth back into the satchel. „That should do it for now.“, he said. The woman was still dazed and looked at him as if he was a prince of the realm. „I cannot thank you enough.“ She expressed grasping tighter onto his cloak. „ Not to worry, my Lady, i have to wonder however you got yourself in this situation though.“. She looked flustered and diverted her eyes. „I was visiting my brother to take care of him, the cold got to him and i was afraid he wouldn’t make it out alive on his own. I thought taking the route through the forrest would get me home quicker, how foolish of me.“ 

Foolish indeed Gwayne thought to himself, stifling a grin. „I could offer you a bed for tonight as my thanks, Ser.“, her eyes lit up saying that, and Gwayne almost felt bad for how genuine she looked. It was rare to find someone seemingly believing in the simple kindness of man nowadays. He also wondered if she knew just what she implied with her statement, well he surely wouldn’t mind if that was what she was thinking of. Just the thought brought a shiver down his skin straight to his cock, it has been so long since he got to indulge himself after-all. „I would happily accept, my Lady“ he took her small shivering hand in his and brought it to his lips. She looked like she was about to faint again and before she started swaying, he decided to steady her with his arm around her waist. The woman stole many glances at him, and his breast swelled with pride — arrogance. He was sure he got kissed by Lady Luck tonight. 

He helped her mount his house and put her legs over his, one arm caging her in, so she „will be safe with him.“. They started trotting towards the small village nearby, her directions were surely helpful, making them arrive sooner than he anticipated.

They rode through a small marketplace coming across some of his men pointing him out to what seemed to be their bedwarmers for the night. Shouts of his heroism were heard, and the roundish man yelled „Not a banshee then ,aye?“. The woman then led him the way to a small hut. Nothing special really, made of wood and stone and mud. It looked solid — just — with greenery not only surrounding it but winding itself into every nook and cranny. They unmounted and she, still shaky on her feet, let him inside the small hut. 

His heavy boots stomped down on the creaky floor as he took his surroundings in; it was…homely. Certainly homely. A small kitchen met a big cozy bed draped in different fabrics and knit blankets. Books and various other items were strewn about, but it looked like it had a system at least. „You may take the bed and I will get you something to freshen up.“. Gwayne looked to her and swiftly grasped her wrist „I would rather claim my reward now, my Lady“. „I’m not sure what you mean.“ Her heartbeat quickened; she couldn’t have been so blind could she? He towered over her taking steps forward until both reached one of the wooden clad walls. She felt as if her flesh would freeze off, needles and pins spreading all over her body, her stomach in knots. „Remove my cloak“. All kindness vanished from his voice. She was staring at him, frozen in time. Cold cold cold fear encompassing her. „Now.“ he almost growled. 

Shaking hands reached up to open the claps, the thick fabric pooling around her still bare and bloodied feet. His eyes raked over her form, half naked and quivering before him. So delicious. His hand reached out to her, making her flinch away hard. This made his cock twitch, hard and wanting in his breeches. He moved quick and ripped the already torn dress to complete shreds. The cloth fell off her breasts entirely and he could almost make out her rapid heartbeat through her chest. The quick — thump thump thump — spurring him on even more. 

Gwayne’s hands found solace on her ribcage, his calloused thumbs slowly tracing the underline of her breasts, making her nipples pebble. The motion was almost soothing but her it felt like a predator seizing up his prey, installing fear in it and calculation their next move. She didn’t dare to breathe which he took note of — it made him chuckle. A deep rumble coming out of his chest. „I wont hurt you“. 

Liar.

She knew he would, they both did. His hands now cupping her breasts, clutching them tightly, pinching and pulling at her flesh. Small gasps left her mouth and she never felt more vulnerable than in this moment. He dipped his head to her level, copper strands kissing his cheekbones. His right hand followed her clavicles, up the tendons on her neck and settled on her throat. The pressure applied made her lightheaded. „Why don’t you sing my praises, huh, your great hero deserves more than this don’t you think?“ She wanted to bite that smug smirk off his face.

 It felt like he could sense what she thought, and he chose to attack first. His lips captured hers in a searing kiss. Gwayne’s tongue slipped into her mouth and he tasted every part of her. When they finally parted, her breaths were labored, chest heaving and saliva coated the bottom of her face, strings of it connecting them like a wet spider web. He kissed her again and again, growing more aggressive with each one, biting and pulling at her lips and tongue until she tasted the iron now coating their lips. She was ashamed of herself for how wet she’s gotten. Wetness slowly running down the inside of her thighs, as she felt how hard and wanting Gwayne has gotten himself. 

While Gwayne was biting and shucking at the juncture of her throat he ripped the last shreds of her gown hanging around her hips apart, leaving her completely exposed to his hungry eyes. Goosebumps littered her body as the cold air hit her skin, which was a welcome distraction from Gwayne’s searing touch, dipping lower and lower. He reached her mount and and slid a single finger between her folds. His lips breathed hot against her cheek „What a tight little cunt“, he moaned as he sunk his finger deep inside her. She wanted to run away, call for help and have him beheaded, but in this moment the coil winding itself in her stomach craved him to keep going, to do more. And do more he did. Another finger slipped into her — two long slender fingers stretching her tight wetness out in fluid motions. His paced steadily increased and he looked like he was about to rip her chest open with his teeth. Her breast heaving into his face and sweat slowly dripping into his face. He licked a long stripe up her artery and bit down, just hard enough to force a strangled groan out of her bruised lips. 

She was burning from the inside out from shame — it felt so delicious, being mauled alive. Just as she was about to completely lose herself in the pleasure, he withdrew his hand. „Get on your knees“, he commanded breathless and harsh. Her eyes refocused on him, and he sunk down, big, clouded eyes fixed on the flushed head of his cock. She didn’t even notice that he partially undressed himself. „Open“, he said as his thumb pressed down on her plump lower lip and hand wrapping around her throat again, much tighter this time. He ran the tip of his leaking cock along the edge if her teeth, finding great amusement in it. Even if she were to bite him, he could snuff her out in seconds. „Don’t tell me you don’t know what to do now, you’re definitely not a maiden,“ She was — but he didn’t need to know. She’s heard enough tales from friends and the brothel workers scurrying about the market when they found the time.

Light-headed form the lack of oxygen and limited in her movement she began running her tongue along his cock. Up and down the head, following a prominent vein slithering along the underside of it. Gwayne groaned and pulled her in by the throat. She sputtered around him, his cock reaching deep into her throat now. He left her no time to catch a breath, moving his hips in a fast irregular rhythm. „That’s it, take it“, he breathed out. His cock slipping in and out her mouth faster with every thrust. Spit dripped down his sack as cradled her head against his pelvis bone. Her eyes rolled up her skull and he swore he would have a corpse around his pulsating cock any minute now. Showing some mercy, he released her, and she gulped down deep breaths of air — coughing them right back out again. Her teary eyes looked longingly at his cock, bobbing and pulsating still, thick drops of precum dripping onto the hard wooden floor. Before she could do much of anything he leaned down and seized her by her claves. Pulling her, with her back on the floor now, closer to him. 

His hands pawed at her thighs and trapped fistfuls of plush fat for leverage. Her lower half hung in the air, and he had a full view of her creaming cunt. Gwayne halted for a short moment, asking himself if he wanted to taste her first, lick up the viscous fluids of her drooling cunt, dripping onto the floor. He discarded the idea and chose to position his cock at her entrance. In one harsh thrust he was inside of her, setting a brutal pace. The small hut was filled with wet slapping noises, moans and groans. Gwayne fucked her as if he intended on killing her. Her body like putty in his string hands and her cunt growing hotter and tighter around his swollen cock. He crouched down lower and threw one of her legs over his shoulder, rutting so deep into her she swore she would never be able to feel whole again without his cock in her. Her desperate whimpers turned into incoherent screams. They ran down deep into Gwayne’s bones and spurred him on as he felt his release coming. His final thrusts were brutal, kissing her cervix and bruising her pelvic bone in it’s wake. He grabbed her throat again and squeezed as his sack tightened and he released hot spurts of thick cum into her womb. They both stayed like this for many moments. He could still feel her walls convulsing around his softening cock, her soft hands laying atop his around her throat, wordlessly begging to release her. When he did, her body fell to the ground with a thud. Her legs still open, arms crossed above her head and her wounds weeping again. Sweat, blood and cum dripping out of her and mingling into a visceral painting of lust. Gwayne brushed his damp hair out of his face and slowly redressed. How he wished to paint the scene before him to take with him out on the battlefields. Alas — he grabbed his sword and pointed it down at her belly, slowly tracing a line up between her breasts and resting below her chin. „I don’t want any red-headed bastards running around, make sure to take care of it.“. „I-i will, don’t worry.“ He nodded curtly and threw her one last glance before leaving her hut. Her heart was still beating like a rabbit running away from a pack of wolves. She hoped the beast would trace her scent and find his way to her again soon.

[januaryembrs]

HOT UNDER THE HELMET | Poe Dameron x Mechanic!Reader

Request: Hi, would you mind writing for Poe Dameron where Poe accidentally injures the reader (whose a mechanic), which is how they meet for the first time. And would you mind using the dialogue prompt “Oh, oh my god! It was an accident! I’m so sorry!”? 

Description: Poe finds out the hard way the best mechanic in the resistance is also most beautiful woman he’s ever seen; too bad you’re so hot headed. 

word count: 1.5k

trigger warnings: sexism, fire, women in stem facing problems even in space (because ofcourse they do).

main masterlist

As much as you would love to admit times of war made people more benevolent towards each other, you’d be dead wrong. Not only had you been one of the only females in the resistance who knew her way around a wrench, but as it also turned out, not even the risk of dying could pull a males head out of his arse. 

You heard snickering before you saw them. The other three mechanics in your squadron crowded around a starfighter, laughing to themselves as they watched you tinker with a leaky engine, your body strewn across a lying board as you worked above yourself, your tools against your foot. 

Rolling out from underneath the ship, you paid them no mind as you searched for a screwdriver small enough to fit the flathead you needed removing. Scanning your work area, that you were proud to say you kept much neater than the blaster brained males you shared a space with, your brow furrowed when you saw your equipment nowhere to be seen. 

“Looking for something?” You heard Zagg, one of the males, say, and you felt a rage boil up inside you at the smug look on their faces as you regarded them with a sweaty, pissed off expression. 

“Where’d you boneheads put it?” You snapped, hauling yourself to your feet as you approached them hotly, your scowl only growing as they burst out laughing, “Real mature. The galaxy is going to bantha fodder, and you guys are hiding my tools,”

“You know, if you need help from someone who knows what they’re doing, you could just ask,” The tallest of the trio, Bran, goaded you, a smarmy smile on his face as he watched your cheeks puff with exhaustion, whirling around to charge up to him, no matter if you did have to turn your neck upwards to confront the pig of a male. 

“Why don’t you pick on someone your own size, instead of going after little girls who make you look like rookies,” You hissed, eying up the other two who seemed to exchange a sneer, “Leia chose me herself, handpicked me from the academy. You three nerf herders got through on sheer size alone, and it’s obvious you feel the need to compensate everywhere else possible,” 

You sauntered away, back towards the rear of the workshop where spare apparatus was kept, banging around the drawers with a foul mood, muttering about how useless the opposite sex was in times of crisis. 

As if he had heard the call of a siren, Poe strolled into the hangar, fully suited with his helmet under his arm, an all too cheery smile on his face for the belly of the beast he was unknowingly heading straight for. 

Catching the eye of one of the mechanics, a freakishly tall man that seemed to be chatting to the other two as they stood around an X-wing with a huge hole ripped into the body of it, he watched the worker drop his bitter face and regard him with raised eyebrows when he saw the chirpy pilot approach.

“General,” He nodded respectfully, though there was not a single trace of regard on his face. “You’ve come for your ship?”

“Leia said you had your best guy on it?” He said, almost missing the way the three of them nodded hesitantly, “She said it should be ready today,”

“Right this way, General Dameron,” The shorter, beefy one said, leading him away to a pristine looking starfighter, by far in the best shape he could see it being without it being brand new. He thought he caught a snigger behind him as the mechanic, whose oiled badge read as Kripply, took him over to the ship, “Why don’t you give her a whirl? As you said, we had our very best on the case,” 

Poe looked at him with an odd mix of a smile and wariness as he couldn’t miss the devilish excitement the man looked at him with. Had he sat in paint again, he wondered. Finn had had a field day walking him around the entire compound with two white ass cheek marks on his suit, he wouldn’t put it past his co-pilot to try his luck again seeing as Poe had been the one to win at cards last night and had not so graciously rubbed his credits in the man’s face. 

“Sure, let’s give this baby a whirl,” He said after a moment, his hair falling all over the place as he shoved his helmet over his thick, sable locks. 

Maybe he had a case of bedhead, he wondered. Afterall, he’d not exactly been sober as he’d stumbled back to his room last night, his winnings buying him round after round of smuggled Corellian Whiskey. 

He hopped up onto the wing, yanking himself into the cockpit that had been cleaned thoroughly, and he didn’t know why he ever doubted his repair team if this was the condition they left their vehicles in. The engine hummed to life as he flicked the tiny lever, and he couldn’t help but appreciate the oddly floral smell inside the small flight deck, and he wondered if they had gone so far as to spray freshener in there. 

You had found a spare tightener that would fit the screw, the last thing that needed fastening up before the engine should be good to run, Leia’s general would be by any second now. 

Rolling back under the vehicle, you tuned out the way Zagg cackled over the sound of an engine springing to life, you assumed their own, focusing on the tiny panel you had yet to cover the machinery with to protect the pilot from any stray blaster fire cutting the engine. 

But no sooner had you settled on your back beneath the jet, your hand reaching up for the metal sheet, you heard the familiar rumble of oil being fired through the motor, the drums whirling as the ignition started and a short blast of heat hit you in the face. 

You blanched as you knew that meant, knew what would come shooting out any second now. Heat always got kicked out of the engine first, the left over energy dishcharged out of the bottom grate. Because then came the fire as it sprung to life.

Your hand came up before you could think through what you were doing, the hard work you were unravelling in the interest of keeping your face intact, your brain from turning to crispy mush, as you yanked the oil pipe from where you’d connected it to the drum, the thick black liquid pouring over your entire body as you stumbled from out beneath the plane, just incase your plan hadn’t worked. 

You heard the engine cut, the sound of the cockpit sliding open as someone cursed from above, and you were filled with a new wave of rage as two feet jumped from the wing above you, turning to the three men who watched with entertained chuckles. 

“What happened, I thought you said-” Poe had started chewing out the males who didn’t seem to care all too much about the fact the jet had broken down, when he felt two hands shove him from behind, and he spun on his heel with annoyance. 

His face dropped entirely when he saw you, covered head to toe in a thick, gunky oil, your nostrils flaring as you glared at him with a heat he had yet to see from a woman before.

Usually women were so receptive to his charming good looks. Not this one it seemed. 

“What the kriff was that, man,”  You yelled, shoving his chest again with your slimy hands, and he quickly put it together what had been the problem. 

“What that me?” His brows flew into his hair line as you looked at him like he’d just learned there were stars in the sky, “Oh, maker! It was an accident! I’m so sorry!”  

“Oh he’s sorry. Thank goodness he’s sorry,” You threw your arms up, wiping the oil away from your eyes with slippy hands, and Poe had no idea what to say for the best. 

Though, he supposed telling you you were by far the prettiest woman he’d seen in moons was not the correct thing to go for, despite the fact it was the first thing he’d thought. 

“I’m a decorated pilot, I would never intentionally-” He spluttered, but you had already turned away, heading towards a small work bench where a bunch of old, dirty rags lay, supposedly for hands only. 

“You can decorate my ass, general. You’re waiting another week for that plane,” You seethed, barely regarding him over your shoulder. 

And he stood there, speechless, because what was he supposed to say. No one had ever spoken down to him like that, not since he’d grown into his good looks and had women falling at his feet to be near him. Certainly not since he’d become leader. 

You huffed past him, as he was rooted to the spot, jaw hung slack as you left the workshop, cursing him out clearly to yourself, and it was only then that he turned to the other three males who had watched him get his ass served to him with another round of sniggers. “Who in the maker was she?”

[yuqiune]

☆ She's My Collar

Heads up: Contains; Face sitting, squirting, kinda facial, make out, hair gripping, overstimulation, female bodied reader, fluff at the end

Member: Jongseob

A/n: The fact that jongseob likes Gorillazs makes me so happy idk why, I don't really hear idols talk about groups like gorillaz so trust I screamed. Sorry I'm rambling but I hope this is good, shorter than I thought

𖹭 You don't have to read if uncomfortable

𖹭 @kisseobie @ilseobiee

──────────୨ৎ───────────

"Jongseob~"

The grip on the headboard got tighter with every second, your legs numbing. One hand on the headboard and the other lost in his yellow locs of hair. He's been eating you out for what felt like hours, the best hours of your life. Lick after lick, slurping back to back, his tongue flipping through your folds like a book, drawing every moan and whiny whimper you had.

"We made a green meadow, Whenever we would collide"

The numerous violent orgasms that ripped through you from his tongue alone made you impossibly wetter than before "Seobie~" the only responses you got from him were muffed grunts, sending vibrations straight to your core, which caused you to pull on his hair more.

You had tear stained cheeks when he lifted you up above his head, you would look at him with blurred eyes. His face would glisten from your slick and cum, mostly his mouth and nose. He would flicker on your clit and your eyes would shoot back to your head as you spray all over him, freeing your hand and covering your mouth as your squirt landed over his face, covering anything not drenched already

He would lick his lips and look at you with lustful eyes "Don't do that baby" his groggy voice made your brain fuzzy "your noises get me going, wanna please you more" he growls before forcing you back down onto his tongue, whimpering on contact. You runt your cunt against his mouth and nose and breathe out a moan at the sensation you felt.

He slurped all your juices and cum, messing over your pussy like it was the last meal he would ever devour again. His muffled groans and sentences sent shocks of pleasure up your body, making your eyes blur as tears trinkled down your face "seobie~ fuck" you cried "Too much baby, g-gonna cum again-" a quick gasp got caught in your throat when he plunged his tongue into your pussy, a porn like moan escaped your lips as you pulled on his hair again.

You started riding his face and tongue, his hand caressing your thighs to your hips, over and around your ass, gripping your body. Faint chants of his name float into the air as your head rolls back. The buzz of your hot, sweaty arousal and your sticky wet and basically numb thighs around his head as your cunt was being mulled made you heart and pussy pulsate.

Your moans got louder and longer as your thighs began to shake, you were gonna cum. Hot and hard. Your knuckles were practically white from the grip you had. His tongue didn't stop, he continued to swirl and twist every which way, hitting different angles for your pleasure.

Your vision flashed white as you felt your body fall limp, you caught yourself against the headboard as you pant, completely winded and out of breath "shit.." You huffed. You shakily lift off of jongseob's face and lay down next to him, eyes barely opened. He props himself on his forearm and cheekily smiles down at you, licking his lips "you taste good" he wiped the corner of his lips, picking up your cum and licking it off. You huffed and rolled your eyes at him and he lightly laughed

"If hearing gorillaz makes you this horny, we might have to cut your Spotify premium" you lightly wiped his cheek, trying to clean some of 'you' off "You seemed to enjoy it" he said, leaning down close to you, his nose brushing yours lightly. Your breath hitched at his action "you were the one that started kissing me" you bit back "you kissed me back" he playfully scoffed "Oh yeah?" You said, the tiniest space between you and his lips

"Yeah.." He lightly kisses, his hand finding its way to your waist, caressing you, your lips finding rhythm with him. It didn't take long for the kiss to get heated after what conquered earlier, he was suddenly on top of you as your tongues danced together, you could taste yourself.His traveled all over your body, his touch felt so loving, it made your heart swell.

You both parted, panting lightly. "You're so cute" you smiled at him "I'm supposed to tell you that" he said, his cheeks tinted pink at your comment, making you giggle softly "whatever" you didn't know how in love he was with you. The sex was amazing, obviously, but getting to see you everyday, hearing you laugh and talk about anything and nothing, Getting to be there for your pretty and ugly moments made him feel completely and utterly chained to you. You were melody to his heartbeat drum.

"She's the one I'm running with. She's my collar"

[livelaughlovesubs]

can you do a public sex w dazai and you get caught? idk how to request sorry if i sound rude

It’s alright dear, no worries. I hope you don’t mind it being on the shorter side :>

Dom!reader x sub!dazai - reader is gender neutral

Warning: getting caught, teasing, stepping, clothed sex, biting, hair pulling

Features: poor kunikida

“Why don’t you come over to my place?”

That’s what he suggested, all of a sudden, in the middle of the day. Every other person would be slaving away at work, though he seems to have a lot of free time with his job. Wasn’t he a detective of some sorts? It makes sense, that kind of occupation isn’t consistent. Nevertheless, since today was your day off you decided to entertain his spontaneous idea.

You knocked on his door, looking around as you waited. His place… hah, the address he gave you was the armed detective agency though. Isn’t this his work place? The brown haired male ripped the door open with enthusiasm and grinned as he said, “you are finally here! Kept me waiting enough didn’t you?” Within the next few seconds, he pulled you inside and slammed the door shut. Then he pushed you until you sat down on the couch.

“Ugh! The hell’s wrong with you, dazai?” Without having a chance to react, he kneeled down and rubbed his face against your leg. “Haha, you took so long.” You twitched a little at his action, ruffling your hand through his hair to get a good grip, before you yanked on them. “And? Why so impatient? You didn’t mention a time.” Dazai smirked, he looked so scheming and all knowing, it was irritating. “You came at just the right time~ It’s my lunch break.” Suddenly he grabbed your ankle, moving it closer to his face and rubbing it against his cheeks. He didn’t break eye contact with you while doing that.

“What do you think you are doing, osamu?” A stern tone, contradictory to the previous light one. You noticed his bottom lips trembling a little, almost as if he was excited and ecstatic. Slowly, you moved your shoe away from his cheek but instead traced a nonexistent line down his upper body. First tapping his chin slightly, then grazing the tip of your shoe against his torso, from his chest to his pelvis. “You aren’t allowed to touch me without permission, you know that.” Instead of moving lower, you remained at his pelvis, right above the place where he desires your touch the most. “So? I did it anyway, what now?” How cheeky he was, luckily for him you liked it.

Not wasting any time chitchatting, you commented, “Fine, i can already guess what you want from me.” Afterwards you pressed your shoe against his crotch. “You want to do filthy things at your workplace? So naughty of you.” “Mhm, am I the only one though? You did came, after all.” Look at him acting all smart, what a headache he is. “This still doesn’t top you wanting to get caught by your colleagues.” What other reason would he have to do it here.

There was no response, or rather, it was an unexpected kind of response. The brunette only smiled a bit more, the corners of his mouth twitched. He licked his lips, eyes half lidded and bearing so much neediness behind them. It was so pathetic that you found it cute. So as a rewards you stepped onto his bulging dick with more pressure, having his entire body shudder in pleasure. “Ah-mhmm! Oh fuck- haha…” He yelped and wore a dumb smile, one that exposed his lust, if it wasn’t obvious enough.

The more it hurt, the more he loved it, and the more you stepped down, the more his face twisted into a blissful expression. Soon you noticed his pants getting a wet spot beneath your soles, as well as some of that dirty fluid clenching to you. “Why are you so needy today?” You mocked him, watching him shake while you intensify the pressure more and more. “NmMHN-aaAhh… i missed you?” That man said, already spouting nonsense. You smirked back at him, then raised your foot and stomped on him.

“GaAahhHH..!” An ear splitting sound erupted, echoing through the empty halls of the agency. Since no one was there, you didn’t think much about the volume. But as fate has intended, there was someone outside on the floor. You even heard the voice say, “who’s there?” Shit, what now. Should you just act as if nothing happened? Maybe he didn’t hear the screa-

“Didn’t someone scream?” You heard his voice erupt from the other side of the door. “Oh, it’s kunikida.” It seems like your partner knew him. Before you got any chance to talk to dazai about it, kunikida slammed the door open. He was so ready to chase out the intruders or whoever there was, if he didn’t just witness a scene he didn’t wish to see. Heck he didn’t even want to imagine it. “Ughh, dazai?! Go somewhere else next time.” Then that blond haired male just reprimanded his colleague and left without a word. “Haha, he was surprised huh? Well anyway, let’s just continue shall we?” Dazai suggested, but you firmly responded, “no. My mood’s ruined.”

He pouted so sweetly and begged you, but you stayed stubborn. In the end, he promised to make it up to you later, in a different way..?

[samsno1]

Honesty

Sam Winchester x Reader

lmao, i'm sorry. this is kind of an au where instead of sam getting the trials...you do! haha......might make a second part to this but i'll see how it'll do. also, in this there isn't the stupid "sam doesn't look for dean in purgatory" because the writers were fucked up when they wrote that, respectfully (or not)

Summary: You finally have a chance to close the Gates of Hell, forever, but everything comes with a cost, the question is, are you willing to pay for it?

Warnings: ANGST, love confessions, sad sammy, kisses, reader sees bobby as a father figure, reader is shorter than Sam, NOT PROOF-READ, english is not my first language

WC: 3.7k

You can learn how to change Y/N for your actual name here

enjoy!

As you lie there, soaked in hellhound's blood, panting after a fight against the creature, the glasses you wore to be able to see it dirty and obstructing your view, Sam and Dean stare at you, frozen and horrified.

You knew they would try and talk you out of doing the trials, especially after Dean's words to both you and Sam before he went on to almost get killed by the hellhound. Of course you two had followed him, even if Dean explicitly said not to, and you ended up under the dog, his disgusting breath fanning on your face as he barked above you, trying to rip your neck off. You knifed it and it quite literally exploded over you, bathing you in his gooey substance.

Now, all of you were in a room, Dean pacing back and forth while Sam just stood with his head down. You had your arms crossed, your eyes accompanied Dean's movements. He was restless, probably angry and desperately trying to find a way to counter this.

“We can find another hellhound,” He argues “I kill it then it's all solved”

“Dean, Crowley will be even more on our asses over this, he will not let his dogs out of the leash” You say, calmly, trying to counter Dean's protectiveness in the lightest way possible. “I can do them”

After you said that Dean stopped pacing around and both him and Sam looked up at you, eyebrows furrowed, almost as if you had just admitted to an unforgivable crime. The crime in the case was wanting to protect the brothers from these crazy trials. You knew how death followed them around like a plague and you couldn't handle losing them.

“No, Y/N, you're not doing these trials” Sam speaks up, a tinge of anger in his tone. Anger, worry. He looked at you, his hair casting a shadow over his face because of the poor lightning in the environment. “You could die”

“Well, too bad Sam” You said and the boys shared that look, a silent conversation between both of them, something that pissed you off in these moments because you had the right to know what they were plotting. “Look, I know you two feel like you have some responsibility over me, this…instinct to protect me ever since Bobby…” You trailed off, the memory of the man you considered to be your father still too heavy on you. Sam frowned and Dean changed his position, on edge. You cleared your throat, the sudden lump bothering you. “But I can protect myself, I can fight my own battles and, honestly? If we do close the gates of hell for good, which battles will be there to fight?” You say with a faint smile.

You look between both of them. They seemed deep in thought. Too deep and that worried you. You slowly walked towards Sam and when he took notice he stiffened up, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed harshly, his eyes taking in your rather dirty appearance. But still beautiful, he mentally stated.

Sam always thought you were the most incredible woman he ever met, invincible even, nothing could ever put you down and you could make everything work your way with your amazing mind and skills. And, obviously, your killer looks always managed to stun him every time, everywhere.

He was used to seeing you in any type of clothing, from suits and dresses to sweats and shirts with corny sayings written in the front, which you argued were comfortable. And you always looked absolutely gorgeous wearing anything. Sam used to think he just admired you, the looks from afar were just friendly appreciation, his yearn to be around you was just a protective instinct, the goosebumps on his skin when you’d touch him were just a natural reaction…

Until it wasn’t just. It was. And that was horrifying.

And it got worse when both you and him spent the last year alone looking for Dean and Cas. Spending so much time beside you made Sam realize what he truly felt towards you and he was scared. Scared to say anything and scared to lose you. So, when you killed that hellhound, his heart fell to his stomach because he knew you would want to do the trials. 

And when you stretched your hand to him, looking directly in his eyes, that determined gaze of yours slicing through his soul, he knew you would do anything to go along with this.

“Sam, give me the spell” You said firmly, not a request, a demand. He swallowed again, still speechless, still frozen, his fist tightening around the small paper which contained the words in enochian you were supposed to recite for the trials to start. You emphasize your demand by widening your eyes angrily and doing ‘come here’ motions with your stretched hand. “Sam”

“Y/N-”

“Dean.” You interrupt, anger seeping into your tone, making Dean shut his mouth into a thin line and a huff of air come out of his nose, just like a child would do when it was refused candy before dinner. He thought he’d seen you like this before, determined, practically unstoppable but boy was he wrong. You were more than insistent and that rang an alarm in Dean’s head. You knew that the one responsible for the trials could die and you were willingly going with it.

“Dean, can you give us a moment” Sam speaks up again and you quirk an eyebrow at him, looking between him and his brother. Sam looks at Dean, his pleading eyes and subtle nod giving enough information for Dean to get the message across. If there is one thing that can make you understand is honesty.

Dean slowly walks out of the room, giving you one last look that said clearly that you needed to listen with an open heart and mind to anything Sam would say. When he closed the door behind him, Sam’s eyes were already on you, trained on your features and you shifted your weight on your feet, his stare intimidating.

“So?” You said, trying to keep your ground. Sam sighed and lowered his head, considering all his options in the situation, he could tell you everything and be either rejected or accepted, he could lie to you, give you the wrong spell and work his way out like he always did and still keep you safe. Honesty. The word echoed in his mind like a chant.

He pushed himself off the table he was leaning on, crossing with you and going towards the bed to sit down. Your whole body accompanied his movements, his long strides making the distance between the table and the bed shorter than it actually was.

Once sat he looked at you and then at the spot beside him on the bed, silently asking you to sit with him and you caved, obliging to him. Your feet were light on the floor, quiet, accustomed to being silent while being a hunter, as you walked to the bed. The hardness of the cushion was not too much of a bother but still kept you grounded. Don’t let your guard down.

After making yourself as comfortable as possible, sitting criss-crossed, you turned towards Sam who was with both his feet on the floor, staring at his hands drying his sweat on his jeans. You waited for him to travel inside his own mind, finding the words, the phrases, the honesty. 

Honesty. Honesty. Honesty.

You swam in your own thoughts, especially those in which Sam was included. And those were the few thousands of reasons you wanted to be the one doing the trials, not him, not Dean. In your time alone, Sam had opened up to you about his want to live a normal life, away from apocalypses, monsters, gods…White picket fence, the whole nine. Dean had wanted that too, hell maybe he wouldn’t let go completely of the hunting but at least he wouldn’t have to deal with demons on his ass, never ever again. You didn’t see yourself getting out.

You grew up in this, much like the boys, but to you was different. You liked it. The adrenaline was like a drug pumping through your veins everytime you killed an abomination and, honestly, family wasn’t your strongest trait. All those whom you considered family were cremated – just because…we don’t usually bury hunters, so you can’t say they are six-feet under. Your love life was most definitely inexistent, you didn’t have time for falling in love with anyone.

Until. You did.

Until you fell. And hard. Face first in a bag of nails because you knew it would be trouble falling in love with Sam Winchester. You were both unlucky when it came to that feeling, always losing, always sacrificing, always in a battle. But how could you not? He was a gentleman in full, kind, sweet, caring and at the same time deadly – no pun intended. He would protect those he cared for with his life, his sense of protection his greatest quality. He was so selfless sometimes it made you mad. You had told him once ‘Be selfish, just this one time!’ and even so he couldn’t. It wasn’t his nature.

Sam wanted out of this and you wouldn’t let him abandon that dream because of you. You weren’t worth his life, you told him once after following a lead on how to open the doors to Purgatory and pull Cas and Dean out that almost got both of you killed. You were crying as you drove him to the hospital, the blood on your hands staining the steering wheel.

He was pale, his hand weekly pressing over the wound on his stomach, his breathing shallow. When you told him that, he trained his tired eyes on your face and in a rough and tired voice told you to shut up. Shut it, jerk. And fainted.

At the hospital you stayed hours by his bed every day. The doctors had told you he would be okay, that thankfully no vital organs were damaged and when he woke up you hugged him tightly, your arms wrapping around his neck desperately trying to make sure he wasn’t going anywhere. His hands soothed you, rubbing your back up and down. You won’t get rid of me that easily, he had said and you laughed.

Ever since then you swore to yourself that you would guarantee that Sam wouldn’t put himself in danger for you anymore and you were not breaking that promise.

“Do you remember the night we met?” Sam spoke and you turned your eyes to his face, his hair shining against the yellow light and worry lines between his eyebrows.

“John had left you at Bobby’s and when I came back from school you scared the shit out of me. I had my gun in hand and everything until Bobby popped up, desperately trying to explain” You said, smiling at the memory. You were all so young back then, Sam was still shorter than you – which didn’t last long – and you had lost your parents a few months back.

“Ever since that night I knew you would be…something in the long run” You gave him a puzzled look and he laughed lightly at your face, his dimples appearing on his cheeks. “I knew you would turn out to be strong, brave and I knew you would end up being one of the most important people to me”

You smiled stupidly at that, your face heating up. You didn’t know what to say to him, your eyes drifting to your fingers over your lap because you couldn't keep his strong gaze. Sam sighed and considered his options, he could either hide his feelings for longer or be honest. Honesty, honesty. The word echoed through his mind like a mantra.

Sam reached his hand to wrap over one of yours, making your eyes shift from your hands to his face again. Physical touch wasn't uncommon between the both of you. Sleeping in the same bed when motels were full, sleeping on each other's shoulders, – more you than Sam given the height difference – hugs, cheek kisses, cuddling while watching movies. But something about this hand hold felt more intimate, like a wave of emotions were being poured over you like cold water. Sam squeezed your hand.

“I can't lose you” Sam said, his voice low because he knew that if he spoke any louder he could break.

“Sam–”

“Y/N. Please.” He begs, even if he doesn't know what he's begging for. Please, let me talk. Please, don't do the trials. Please, love me like I love you. “I can't lose you”

He repeats and you feel like you just got punched in the guts or like a knife went through your chest. He sounded so raw. Those four words meaning more than any poetry you've ever laid eyes upon. You squeeze his hand to ground yourself.

“Can't or won't?” You ask, voice weak.

“Both” He answers. “Both because I won't let you do this and can't because if I lose you I won't know how to keep going.”

You shake your head no, closing your eyes for a brief moment, your memories together flooding in again. His smile tattooed in your brain, his laugh playing over and over like a broken vinyl. You needed to do this.

“If I do this then that means you can finally have a life, a wife, kids…I can't let you lose this.” You say, tears welling up in your eyes. “And I need to do this for you, for Dean, for Charlie…Losing me is just a consequence for the greater good”

Now it's Sam who shakes his head, low breathy no's coming out of his mouth. He looks up at you, eyes watery and those stupid puppy dog eyes staring right into your soul, crushing your heart to pieces.

“You don't get it” He says “When I look into the future I can't imagine–” He takes a breath, considering whether to tell you or not. Fuck it. “I can't imagine it without you. The house, the kids running around, the dog…they're ours.” He stops for a moment, waiting to see if you caught what he meant but you just looked at him, wide beautiful eyes full of confusion.

“Sam what are you–”

“And you're the wife. My wife.” He says and he can see the realization come into your face, slowly. The way your jaw drops slightly, your shoulders tense and your hand squeezes his even harder. Sam swallows but now he can't back away. “So I can't let you do this because if you do it and die I won't be able to keep going because I love you, Y/N. I love you and even if you don't reciprocate I won't stop loving you. You're the first thing I think when I wake up and the last thing I think about once I fall asleep.” He keeps going, almost out of breath once he finishes, avoiding your eyes, avoiding rejection. “So, please, don't”

Don't do this, don't reject me, don't run.

“Sam, look at me” You say, one hand slowly grasping his cheek, your thumb drying a tear that he didn't know had fallen. Once he looked at you he saw you smiling. Smiling with teary eyes. “I love you, too”

You practically whispered and a feeling rushed into Sam's body. Like someone had shot him up with adrenaline and suddenly he was aware of everything around him, your warm hand on his cheek, your hand under his, the white noise of the animals outside. And his own heartbeat.

He closed the distance between the both of you, his lips finally touching yours in desperation. Pure and raw desperation. His hand went up your arm to your neck, gently pulling you more into him and yours slipped to tangle into his hair, running the soft locks through your fingers.

The kiss felt electric and it burned. Burned you from the inside out with the wave of a thousand emotions. Your head went back to those moments with Sam. Your mind was just completely him.

And it was the same for the Winchester.

He already had thoughts consisting mostly of you but now he felt in heaven, like in finally connected with whom he mostly desired, both physically and emotionally. His other hand slipped around your waist to pull yourself over him as he laid down on the bed.

You followed and slightly smiled into the kiss. Until you grounded yourself. Sam wouldn't let you do the trials, not now that you had confessed, not now that he knew you loved him too. So you had to take matters into your own hands.

As Sam laid you over him, you straddled his hips, the kiss continuing into an unexplained hunger and lust for each other. You sensually dragged your hand down his chest, earning a soft gasp out of him, both his hands tangling in your hair, messing up your curls.

Your hand that slid down his body discreetly went into his pocket, feeling for the paper with the spell written on it. You mentally apologized over and over to Sam, your mouth opening to let his tongue in to explore it, butterflies flying around in your stomach. He was gentle, caring but yet hungry and you could feel it.

I'm sorry. 

You pulled away breathless, the paper clutched in your hand and Sam looked at you through hooded eyes, his chest heaving with his heavy breaths and a confused frown on his face.

“I'm sorry Sammy” You said as you got off the bed and started to quickly pronounce the words in enochian, your hands trembling around the paper. Sam widened his eyes once he realized what you'd done, patting his pocket in reflex, knowing you had taken it out of there, and stubbled off the bed.

“Y/N, no, please!” He yelled but it was too late. Once you said the last word an almost unbearable pain cursed through your whole body, knocking you to your knees, a loud groan of pain leaving your throat.

Sam kneeled beside you with a hand on your back, mumbling curses and apologies to you but you couldn't hear him, the pain so strong it made your ears ring. You felt a burn, like you had injected lava into your veins, opening your eyes to see your arms shining. Everything was spinning and the only thing guaranteeing you that you were still alive was Sam's warm touch over your back.

After seconds of excruciating pain you felt it going down and saw your arms returning to their normal tone. You collapsed into Sam's arms and he made sure to hold you tightly, still mumbling apologies with his eyes glossy with tears.

“Why did you do this?” He repeated, over and over. He didn't know if he wanted to kill you or hug you so he decided for the latter. He hugged your frame, pressing your head against his chest with a trembling hand and giving light kisses over it.

His other hand pressed your back against him, making your whole body stay in contact with his. His knees hurt on the hard ground but nothing compared to the pain he felt in his heart. He felt helpless.

You opened your eyes to look up at him, a faint smile on your face. You lifted a hand up to his cheek and took a very good look at the handsome man you loved. He was crying but he always looked beautiful, no matter how.

At your touch he closed his eyes, guilt spreading through his body. He touched his forehead to yours, making you close your eyes until you spoke up.

“I did this because I love you” You said and he opened his mouth to protest. You gave him a look, saying you weren’t done. “I love you too much to see you die and I know you can keep going if I die, you are one of the strongest men I know. You’re smart, you’re brave and you went through so much that I can’t let you give it up because of me. And you know I would never, ever, let you take responsibility over this and I don’t want you to blame yourself, this was my choice”

“I can’t– I’m sorry, Y/N, I’m so sorry I got you into this, I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you–” You stopped him with a kiss and he sighed sadly, his hands wrapping around you tighter as if you would disappear at any second. You felt horrible but at the same time relieved. Relieved that if anything happened, Sam would live.

“Don’t say that” You whisper against his lips. “Don’t apologize for something that isn’t your fault. This is on me.” You say as you pull slowly away to look into his eyes, the mix of colors hypnotizing you. You felt like you could see every ounce of his soul through those eyes and it was filled with sadness.

Sam was angry, not at you, at himself. The moment he saw the hellhound die above you, bathing you in its blood he knew it was over, that you wouldn’t back away but still he blamed himself. If I were quicker. If I were smarter. The words ran around in his brain. When he looked at you he saw yet another one of those he loved dead. Another corpse that hung over his shoulder.

“We can do this, I can do this. I’m strong enough” You said. Sam knew you were strong but this was beyond you. This was God and Demons and Heaven and Hell. This was biblical and nothing like the things you faced before. He was scared.

“I know you are but what if I’m not?” He asks and you wait for him to continue. “What if I’m not strong enough to let you go if it comes to it?”

“You’ll have to be. If not for yourself, for me. Keep going for me” You reply with a soft look and a slight smile that made Sam choke on a sob and smash his lips against yours.

This kiss was filled with different emotions. Sadness, grief and guilt were poured into it but yet so much love. So, so much.

You didn’t get a verbal answer from Sam but you got plenty of information from the kiss. I’ll try, for you.

And that was enough.

A/N: Notes and reblogs encourage me to keep writing, feedback makes those writings better. Thank you for reading, Xoxo.

[linos-luna]

Toxic ❣️🥀

Felix x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT, Jealous, Oral, Fingering

—————————————————— ✨

As tough as you may act, you weren’t exactly the most confident. You’ve had boys reject you and an ex cheat on you. You were sure that your current boyfriend wouldn’t cheat or leave but at the same time, you worried. What if he found someone prettier? Someone better?

Your boyfriend is cute and it’s no wonder that other girls would like him. You tried to not let it get to you…

It was something small. Perhaps not even a big deal but I bugged you.

You had gone with Felix to get his hair cut. It was a mundane every other monthly occurrence, but today was different. Today it was a woman cutting his hair. Normally it wouldn’t bother you but this was different. She was definitely being flirty.

As she cut his hair, she would do little things like rub his back and shoulders. She would laugh a little too much at his jokes and openly called him cute! You’d be glaring at her from the waiting area but it seemed that she didn’t care. Felix was just as nice to her. Yeah it’s his personality to be friendly but what if… what if he liked her?

She’s small and cutesy. She’s pretty and giggly. You felt she was everything you weren’t. You felt like she’s a solid 9/10 while in this moment you’re a 2. Of course he’d like her more!

You were snapped out of your thoughts when Felix suddenly appeared in front of you. He startled you actually.

“Sorry noona.” Felix laughed nervously. “Do you like my hair? It’s a little shorter than I wanted but it’s okay right?”

“Looks great, baby.” You said with a smile while standing. “Let’s go home so I can make dinner.”

Felix nodded and went back to pay at the counter. As the woman who cut his hair rung him up, you noticed that she slipped him a piece of paper. This annoyed you and you followed your boyfriend to the car.

The ride was silent. You said nothing and while driving, Felix could sense something was off. He just wasn’t sure if you wanted to talk about it. It wasn’t until you were parked that you broke the silence.

“Baby…” you spoke up quietly. “What did she give you when we left…?”

Your boyfriend turned off the car before looking at you a bit worried. He reached into his pocket and handed it to you. Exactly as you thought, it was her number.

“I guess she gave me her number.” He chuckled awkwardly.

You weren’t sure what to say, only ripping the small paper in pieces before shoving them in your pocket and getting out of the car, slamming the door behind you.

“Noona?” Felix got out and followed after you as you stomped inside to the bedroom. “What’s wrong?”

“I didn’t like her talking to you like that…”

“Noona—” He sighed.

“And you let her!”

“It’s not like that…” Felix frowned, confused by your sudden outburst.

“I know, I know!” You groaned while rubbing your forehead, realizing how toxic you sounded. It’s just—… I don’t—… you’re my baby boy! Not hers!”

“Of course I’m yours.” Felix said with a smile as you were hugging yourself. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

You felt like shit. Sitting on the edge of the bed and continued hugging yourself uncomfortably, unable to believe how toxic you sounded.

Felix pouted and got on his knees in front of you, putting his arms on your lap and looking at you with those adorable eyes. “Don’t be sad.”

Smiling a bit, you brushed your fingers through his hair. As innocent as he looked, you could feel his hand feeling up your thigh. He didn’t even break eye contact as he rubbed your inner thighs, ever so light brushing over your clothed crotch.

“Y-You want something, baby?” You voice broke as he palmed over the area.

“Mmhm.” He nodded. “I wanna show noona how much I love her.”

The more he touched your clothed area, the more wet and uncomfortable your underwear was getting. Normally, you were the one giving and taking care of him, so this was a little different.

After giving him the okay, Felix got right to removing your pants and leaning in to kiss you over your cute pink panties. You leaned back a little, leaning on your arms while holding back some whimpers.

“You think I’d ever leave you?” He giggled while slipping your underwear off and rubbing his fingers along your folds. “I would never…”

You covered your mouth to hold back the moans as he rubbed at your sensitive clit. Your boyfriend moved your legs on his shoulders, having you lay back on your elbows.

He didn’t give you much time to adjust before kissing your sensitive cunt. You threw your head back and let out your suppressed moans.

“I’d never leave you, noona—” he said briefly before going back to eating you out.

“Fuck—! Agh—! F—fu—” There was no volume control. Felix knew just how sensitive your cunt was, this had your eyes rolled back and back arched.

“Oh wow noona…” He added, his mouth still pressed against your cunt. “What filthy sounds you make.”

With your eyes shut, breathy moans escaped your lips as you bucked your hips slightly, only for Felix to grip them tight.

Your boyfriend replaced his mouth by inserting two fingers, making you cry out as he kissed along your hips and waist.

“B-baby~” you moaned while laying on your back. “A-agh! L-Lixie—”

“Hm? What’s wrong?” Felix smirked as thrusted his fingers slowly in and out. He went deep to hear your whimpers. He then lifted your shirt to kiss your stomach.

You couldn’t really think straight as you were lost in pleasure and pushed your bra up for him. He wasted no time in kissing and nipping at your soft skin. It drove you nuts and it was clear that you were close to releasing.

“Cum on my fingers, noona.”

You came as he curled his fingers and hit the spot one more time. You practically went cross eyed as you panted, trying to catch your breath.

Felix was pretty satisfied and put his fingers in your mouth. “Clean my fingers, noona.”

Almost mindlessly, you sucked your essence off of them. He pet your hair and sighed.

“I would never leave you, y/n.”

[g1rld1ary]

you never disappointed me - part five

part one part two part three four

➻ synopsis: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader ; luke tries to apologise for the party, but it takes you a while to forgive him (10 things I about you AU)

➻ word count: 3753

➻ warnings: ooc/kind of loser!luke, ooc silena, she/her pronouns used for reader, swearing

➻ did this take a month? yes. am I sorry? yes. will it happen again? absolutely

TAGLIST: @myxticmoon @wicca-void @leeknows-wife @thekittyxo-blog @number-onekidqueen @instabull @slaybestieslay946 @sflame15-blog @yourfavmiki @ivory-sage @caramelandvenus @chasebeth @maraudersmyloves losergirlcrowley amortencjja wisecrownpaper iammightsadyall odeasforyou rlqfpdl

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

You were humiliated. You’d spent all night crying, mortification setting in thick over your body as you lay on your bed. However, despite how embarrassed you were, you were mostly angry. Angry at Luke for acting so affectionate, for making you believe that he really liked you then pulling away at the last second. Angry at yourself. Angry that after all these years, all it took was one stupid boy to bring down all your walls; angry that you let yourself be led into this situation.

And so that morning, instead of letting yourself mope around about it anymore, you picked yourself up with a new determination. You were angry, and everyone was going to know about it. Your braids were pulled extra tight, not in the mood to deal with flyaways or gentleness, and the smudged eyeliner around your eyes served as a reminder of the tears you’d wasted.

There was a much shorter line at the Lava Wall than usual. Although skipping out on activities could earn you some shitty chores or revoked dessert privileges, your bad mood had seeped into the whole area, practically lowering the temperature around you. You only had a few newer campers dare to enter your territory, and it took a Herculean effort to not snap at them for even coming near you.

Luke watched you from afar, hidden away in one of his typically safe smoking spots. He was trying to gauge your mood, see if anything was fixable. His prospects currently looked grim. He watched in anticipation as a young girl made a dumb mistake. Luke thought it wouldn’t have been her fault — Chiron had made him tour her around camp only a few weeks ago and she’d been pretty beat up before she got to camp. He watched you yank her off the Lava Wall moments before disaster, and held his breath as you both seemed to falter. The girl looked like she was going to burst into tears, and your face was unreadable, which was usually not a good thing. Just as he thought you were going to take out all your feelings on the scared kid, you crouched down to her level, thumb wiping away her spilled tears. You spoke softly to her, bringing her down from an impending breakdown with a gentleness that didn’t often emerge at camp.

The interaction gave Luke some hope, maybe your heart hadn’t totally closed off. That thought was quashed, however, when minutes later you ripped Travis Stoll a new one for being an ‘egotistical dickhead’ as he fooled around on the wall. Luke was genuinely shocked at the volume which came from your body, he could have mistaken it for a conch horn. Even Travis seemed a little taken aback at your outburst. Usually your bad moods were pretty easy to avoid — stay out of your way and you stayed away from others. Clearly today, though, you had anger to get out of your system, and you weren’t hesitant in expressing it.

You were still upset by lunchtime, and your day only got worse.

“Dance for me, cowboy,” Katy Gardener yelled, evil grin shining across the Dining Pavilion. You kept your head down and ignored it, hurrying to your table. A body popped up in front of you, blocking your path.

“What do we owe you for the table dance, babe?” Ethan crooned, and if you were in a slightly more private setting you would have decked him. You grumbled out a “Fuck you,” and shoved past him towards Drew, knowing that at least she wouldn’t reproach you in public. Ethan clearly wasn’t done with you yet, though, and began an all too innocent conversation with Mr D.

“Why don’t you ask how her weekend was, Mr D?” He said, throwing a casual glance over to you.

“Unless she kicked the crap out of your dumb ass, Elton, I don’t wanna hear it.” You could have kissed Mr D, and then immediately recoiled at the thought. Ethan’s embarrassed expression was enough to please you though, and you sunk into your meal silently, but at least not active with anger.

After lunch Luke tried to apologise to you, or explain himself at least. He knew you were upset, but he was still feeling good about himself. He had noble intentions, and was doing objectively the right thing by not taking advantage of you when you were drunk. None of these sentiments were expressed, though, when you stormed right past him, making sure to land an extra aggressive stomp on his foot as you went. Chris couldn’t hold back his loud laugh, clapping Luke on the back in semi-sympathy as he headed to his own next activity. Luke stood dumbly in his spot for a few minutes, unsure of how exactly to proceed. Clearly you were more upset than he thought.

Your own next activity was Ancient Greek with Mr D. You didn’t know why he taught it at all given you personally thought he was hardly fluent, but it was one activity you actually didn’t mind, especially as you got older. Whilst the younger kids had lessons focused on getting used to the alphabet and language, the elder campers who were more fluent had more traditional ‘english’ classes — learning about texts and languages, only in Ancient Greek so the dyslexia didn’t slow you down as much.

You shot Mr D a tightlipped smile as you walked into the pavilion, hoping to get by the lesson unscathed, though you didn’t have much hope. Both Ethan and Luke were in this class, and you really didn’t want to see either (though Luke usually skipped, so he wasn’t such a pressing issue).

Just your luck, Ethan was already in his unassigned assigned seat behind you, filling in the campers who didn’t attend the party about your escapades. You just rolled your eyes, trying to seem somewhat graceful about your own actions, but the leering eyes of your peers was making it supremely difficult. For once you did regret not making many friends at camp — if you had, maybe your humiliation wouldn’t be such a hot topic, but the very presence of your class reminded you why you had no interest in being friends with them.

The room thankfully quietened down when Mr D walked in, the whole camp somewhat wary of his temper. He started the lesson: Shakespeare. You perked up a bit from your slouched position in the chair. Whilst school wasn’t exactly your strong point with the ADHD and dyslexia, Shakespeare was something you actually kind of understood. When you were younger your Dad had taken you and Silena to a production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream and you’d loved it ever since. Shakespeare translated into Greek was maybe your dream.

Mr D started talking about sonnets, and you got the distinct impression that he didn’t totally know what he was talking about — or just didn’t care enough to go into any detail. You figured that was more correct since he was the god of theatre, but you could never be totally sure with Dionysus. Regardless, he’d moved on from explaining the basic form of a sonnet and had set you a project: write your own version of Shakespeare’s sonnet 141. You sat straighter in your seat, unable to hide the small smile that had crept onto your face. You raised your hand, slightly offended by Mr D’s eye roll.

“Yes, Miss I-have-an-opinion-about-everything?” He sighed, but you persevered nonetheless.

“Do you want it in iambic pentameter?” You asked.

“You’re not going to fight me on this?” He hesitated, and you revelled in the fact that you could still surprise him after all these years.

“No, I think it’s a really good assignment.”

“You’re just messing with me, right Barton?”

“Beauregard,” You corrected for the thousandth time, “But no. I’m really excited to write it.” You picked uncomfortably at your cargos as the class watched your exchange.

“Go see Chiron.”

“What?”

“Get out!” He yelled, not quite angry but you weren’t going to be the one to test him. There were rumours of previous campers who’d been turned into dolphins and you did not want to continue that legacy. You wandered out of Greek class, still slightly confused at what had just happened, and headed back to your cabin, not bothering to go see Chiron. With the cabin to yourself you tried to get a start on Mr D’s project, but inspiration was lacking and you resorted to taking a nap instead.

The rift between you and Luke became public knowledge at that night’s campfire. Without even realising it you’d started sitting with him most nights (or rather he sat with you, bothering you until you submitted to a conversation). Then suddenly you were avoiding him like the plague, spitting out a harsh “Get fucked, Castellan,” when he called your name softly, almost begging you to talk to him. You were never one to back down from your decisions though, and left him in the dust, taking a seat next to Clarisse. You could tell even Chris could see something was seriously wrong as he pressed a kiss to Clarisse’s hand and disappeared somewhere, presumably to sit with Luke.

You didn’t even really know why you were at the campfire in the first place. You’d been only a handful of times before you knew Luke, and now you didn’t want to know him yet here you were. Clarisse tried to keep you entertained with her quiet comments — which did admittedly make you snort a laugh once or twice, but you were otherwise miserable. You sure as hell weren’t going to participate or chat to anyone, and you were really regretting not just pursuing your usual routine of getting to the top of the Aphrodite cabin for stargazing. Plus, you could feel Luke’s eyes following your every move, and you were getting fed up with the kicked puppy act.

Your final straw was the singing — why was everyone in Camp Half-Blood so obsessed with singing? The second some douchebag from Apollo brought out a guitar you were done, launching yourself out of your seat and stomping back towards your cabin for some peace and quiet. Just as you were crossing the threshold out of the amphitheatre a hand grabbed your arm and you whirled around to face the culprit, ripping your arm out of his embrace.

“Touch me again, Castellan, and I swear to the Gods I will make sure you have no hands to use.”

“Look, I just wanted—”

“I don’t care, Castellan. We don’t always get what we want, do we?” You knew you were being mean, but you frankly didn’t care. When Luke was shocked into silence, mouth slightly open as he searched for anything to say, you took the opportunity to leave him in the dust, trying to keep your confident walk even as your legs were shaking slightly.

“Bro, what did you do to her?” Beckendorf approached Luke up near the exit of the amphitheatre.

“I didn’t do anything,” Luke snapped, before taking a beat to calm himself down, “She would’ve been too drunk to remember.”

“But the plan was working!”

“What do you care? I thought you wanted out.” A slight blush crept on Beckendorf’s face, accompanying the dumb grin.

“Yeah, well I did, but, um, that was until she kissed me.” Despite his own bad luck, Luke couldn’t help but be happy for Beckendorf, slightly hating the fact that the lame younger boy had grown on him significantly. He let Charles ramble about the kiss for a bit despite his decreasing interest in the conversation, very glad when Percy joined them.

“So I talked to Clarisse,” He said, and Luke knew by his tone the news wasn’t going to be good. Beckendorf was still hopeful (or just naive) though, and pestered him for more details. “’Hates him with the fire of a thousand suns’ is the direct quote.” All three of them grimaced, yet Beckendorf persisted.

“Hey, we don’t know. She might just need a day to cool off.” Luke thought back to the bruise you’d left on his foot earlier in the day.

“Maybe two.”

The Aphrodite kids were all in archery except you, who’d claimed to be sick to get out of it. So, Silena was on her own and vulnerable to Ethan approaching.

“Hey there, Cupid.” He popped up behind her, not noticing the grimace creeping onto Silena’s face.

“Hi, Ethan.” She refused to look at him, focusing instead on aiming her arrow.

“I want to talk about the end of summer dance.” Silena rolled her eyes as the rest of her siblings pretended to mind their own business despite their innate need to know what was going on.

“Look, you know the deal. I can’t go if my sister doesn’t.” The end of summer dance was exactly what it sounded like; a big party for all the kids at camp to celebrate the three months they’d spent together and send off the kids who weren’t staying all year round. Though the actual dance was supervised, it was a well known secret that all of the older campers stayed out through the night drinking and dancing, and most of the folk around camp turned a blind eye for the night. Usually, your dad would pick you up just before the party started, which would inevitably result in a fight between you and Silena. Now though, Silena wasn’t quite so against leaving early, wanting out of the boy drama she’d found herself in.

“Your sister is going,” Ethan said, puffing out his chest as if it made him look more manly. Silena’s surprise was genuine.

“Since when?”

“Let’s just say I’m taking care of it,” Was all Ethan said before walking away, confident swagger in his step as he passed in front of your siblings, and Silena wondered how many of them were holding back the urge to let go of their arrow as he crossed them.

Still, Ethan had to make good on his word, so he found himself approaching Luke again. Rummaging around in his pockets, Ethan presented him with 200 dollars in cash. Luke raised an eyebrow, not bothering with words.

“This should take care of everything for the dance. I’m sure you don’t own anything presentable so this is for a new outfit, flowers for her, whatever. As long as she comes to the dance.” Luke stared at him, and was disgusted at what he was feeling. He might’ve been growing a conscience, something that would be greatly inconvenient for his life as the scary, unsociable older guy at camp.

“I’m sick of your game,” He said finally, pushing the cash back towards Ethan, who frowned. Luke got the distinct feeling he’d never been told no before — except by you, of course. Ethan exaggerated a huff and reached back into his pocket, pulling out one more hundred dollar bill. Luke faltered. He was sick of hurting you, but three hundred dollars was a lot of money. And without any way of making income as a year-rounder it was only more attractive. So Luke swallowed his pride and his morals and took the money. Though, getting you to ever consider going out with him again was basically a hopeless case.

So Luke began his new quest of getting you to speak to him again. He’d shown up to the Lava Wall full of audacity and enthusiasm, and waited patiently in line as you helped the other kids, pretending you couldn’t see him. When it was clear he wasn’t going to leave — or have his turn on the climbing wall — until you acknowledged him, you rolled your eyes aggressively.

“What are you doing here?” You snapped, gesturing for the Athena kid standing behind Luke to have her turn.

“I want to improve my time,” He smiled, and you could tell he thought he was being cute. You only partly secretly agreed.

“You’re so…” You trailed off, unable to find a word appropriate for your audience of children.

“Charming?” He asked, and there was that smile again. “Wholesome?”

“Unwelcome,” You settled on, turning back to your duties.

“You’re not as mean as you think you are, you know that?” You froze for a second, then told the kid waiting to start to hold on until you could get rid of him.

“And you’re not as badass as you think you are.”

“Ohh, someone still has their panties in a twist!”

“Don’t for one minute think that you had any effect whatsoever on my panties,” You scoffed, subconsciously adjusting your denim shorts.

“Then what did I have an effect on?” Despite the two of you clearly arguing, there was a surprisingly vulnerable look in his eyes. You ignored it.

“Other than my upchuck reflex? Nothing.” You turned on your heel, making it clear the conversation was over.

You were absent from that night’s campfire, which Luke was grateful for since Percy and Beckendorf had much to say about the plan, none good.

“So she’s still majorly pissed,” Percy started and Luke snorted.

“Yeah, got that, genius.”

“Well the question is, how do you stop a girl from being mad?” Beckendorf asked, and Luke could only cringe at how they sounded. With the way the three of them were talking, any passerby would surely think they were three prepubescent virgins. From next to them, Annabeth sighed harshly.

“Look, Luke. You embarrassed her, her ego’s taken a hit. Devastating for any girl, especially damaging for a daughter of Aphrodite. You need to get on her level; even the score and embarrass yourself for her.” The boys sat back, stunned. One by one they processed the instructions, nodding slowly. Thank the Gods for Annabeth Chase was the only thing Luke could think.

With much planning and a little bit of outside involvement (Luke swapped some of his chores with Clarisse’s to get her to agree), the plan was set in motion.

“C’mon, it’ll be fun. We can make fun of the little kids singing Disney songs?” Clarisse lay on your bed as you cleaned your bunk area and you looked at her skeptically.

“Why tonight? We never go to the sing alongs.”

“Dunno,” She shrugged, “Something to do. Plus, summer’s almost over and soon we won’t get to spend any time together.” You grinned, reaching over to pinch her cheek lightly.

“Aw,” You cooed, “I knew you liked me deep down.” Clarisse swatted your hand away but smiled nonetheless, and the two of you stayed huddled up on your bunk gossiping until dinner.

Swayed by Clarisse’s begging, the two of you ended up at the sing along, much too close to the front for your liking. You struggled through the karaoke songs, only staying to commentate to Clarisse. You’d heard one too many awful renditions of classic childhood pop songs when the amphitheatre went quiet, no one knowing who was meant to be leading the next song.

“You’re just too good to be true,” The voice rang out into the night, unaccompanied voice making you gasp immediately in recognition. This was your favourite song, but hardly anyone knew that. It was the song you used to dance to with your dad when you were a kid, before you even knew you were a demigod.

“Can’t take my eyes off of you.” People were murmuring now, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from and who it belonged to — no one who’d sung before for sure.

“You feel like heaven to touch, I wanna hold you so much,” You gasped again as you saw the figure emerge from the darkness. Luke Castellan was singing at the camp sing along. You couldn’t hold in your giggle as he continued to sing a cappella, coming into the light of the stage. He seemed to be searching for something though, eyes roving over the audience.

“Can’t take my eyes off of you.” His eyes locked with yours; he found what he was looking for. Before you could dwell on the incredibly cheesy act, music swelled to life, the Apollo musicians seemingly having learnt the piece beforehand. You wondered how much planning went into this. Your joy only increased as Luke began to dance; dorky, outdated moves that made you laugh out loud — a sound so unfamiliar that a few campers had to look back to check it was really you. You laughed and clapped along with everyone else, thoroughly enjoying Luke embarrassing himself in front of the whole camp.

The performance had to end at some point though, and you found yourself rising out of your seat to give a standing ovation, whooping and cheering along with everyone else. By chance you caught a glance of Clarisse’s face to see her already watching you, a satisfied look evident on her face. You were confused for a second before a memory struck you — a late night on the roof trading drunk secrets and stories where you told her about your childhood connection to Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You. You were floored, and also kind of flattered. You knew it would have taken a lot for Luke to go to Clarisse for help — she was scary when she was pissed, and she was definitely pissed at Luke after the party.

You felt that little ball of light start to flicker in your chest again, and you were scared. But more than that you were excited. Despite everything else about you, you were a daughter of Aphrodite and a teenage girl, and the most romantic thing to ever happen at camp just happened to you. You guessed Luke had probably grovelled enough, and you would’ve told him that immediately if he hadn’t been swarmed by campers congratulating or laughing at him. Deciding you couldn’t put yourself in the middle of that crowd, you settled on telling him in the morning.

[renren-006]

Savior | Daryl Dixion x fem reader

plot: Daryl saved you, and you want to kiss your savoir warning: slight mentions of almost taken advantage of, violence word count: 1518 a/n: I just had to write this idea!

taglist: @rosecentury

Back when the world had just ended, and things were still unknown, you were wounded around Atlanta's wooded, less populated areas. You had run from your car that got overrun, remembering the screams of your parents and the harsh pain in your ankle after you fell from the car watching them. You still struggled on your ankle; hisses escaped your lips as you walked. You had not stopped long through the days to heal or to rest, not knowing where the next undead would come for your flesh. Your jeans were worn and dirty, your red shirt now had holes, and you desperately wanted a bath. 

The day Daryl came to your rescue was the first day you had fallen asleep next to a tree with the fire embers still cooling in the morning rays. You heard the crunch and woke with a startle; there were three men watching you, all eyeing your body like a prise. 

"Well, lookie here, boys, some fresh meat for us," one of them said, toying with his belt to hide the painfully evident erection there. All three of them had one. You didn't know what to do, had nowhere to go, and knew you wouldn't make it far with your ankle.

"Please don't," you said, your voice coming out louder than you intended, maybe preying someone would hear you. 

"Aw, look at her. She's begging. I want her first," the second man said, and the others shook their heads. 

"no way she's mine," The third said, pushing his friend back before strutting twords you.

"No, No!" you said, shouting; maybe even the undead would save you. "Please!" he came to you, and you struggled to push him off. The others were smiling, ribbing their pants, and wanting their turn. 

"Hurry up, man", the first man said. Wanting the man who was trying to get your belt off to rush. That was when an arrow went through the man's skull, making his body thud against the forest floor, and then the second man went down with a knife in the head. The man on top of you looked back and gave you just enough room for you to knee his body off you. The man looked angry as you went back further, your pants even more ruined from the mud. Thankfully, your belt was still on, and your pants only ripped slightly from his strength. The man went down soon after, and two men peered around the trees twords you. 

"Hey there, girlie?" one of them asked, the same face the men had before they died. The shorter one pushed him back, walking over to you, bending down by the man, and pushing him away so you couldn't see his dead eyes. 

"We ain't goin' to hurt ya," he said, his voice soothing you from wanting to leave. "We got ya know."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," the taller one said. 

"He ain't going to hurt you either. hands off, Merle," the man sad

"I got it", Merle said, getting the hint that I wasn't to be touched by him at all. 

"I'm Daryl, that ma brother Merle. He won't get his hands on ya," Daryl said to you, holding out a hand; this seemed to be the first act of kindness this man had shown anyone in a while, and his face read it all too well.

"You don't save many people, do you?" you asked him. He shook his head, lagging slightly.

"Nah, normally we don't run into people. ya needed help, coulden't leave" Daryl told you, gripping your hand in his as he lifted you up. "You aint got no weapons on you?"

You told him, "No… I didn't prepare for the world to end." He nodded his head. Merle looked around, noticing a few of the undead heading your way.

"We gotta move." 

That started your journey with the brothers for a few months. It was just you two. They trained you on how to hunt and how to fight, and most importantly, how to piss Merle off, so he left you alone. Daryl also made sure your ankle was looked after, and in no time, it was better. Merlemeantt, no harm to you; he was just desperate for action you never wanted to give him. Daryl became your savior and bodyguard, making sure Merle understood that would NEVER happen. 

The three of you traveled until you met others who welcomed you into their small, little mountain-top community. It was you, the brothers, some sisters, and a man named Dale for a bit. Soon, the group grew and grew, but you only hung with Daryl and cursed off Merle. 

However, the time with him on the mountain made you aware of your attraction twords Daryl, the want you craved when you were near him. You were late in your 20's20s, having experienced college before traveling home to your parents just before the world ended. In those times before Daryl, you felt like you were younger, but now you feel your age, you feel strong. For the time being, you felt strong until your group had to pack up and leave because of a walker outbreak. 

Months later, you were entering the farm, your hands wrapped around Daryl as he rode into the grounds. You were mesmerized by how quiet and large it was here. While the others were setting up, you glanced over at Daryl, who was setting his tent up a bit away from them but not so far that he was secluded. 

"You got a tent?" Carol asked. You looked back at the woman. You didn't know what you were going to do. For the past months, you had slept by Daryl and Merle, but now, you were not sure what you would do.

"She with me," Daryl said, coming over to you. You looked beside you at the man who had apparently finished setting up and had walked over. "That good?"

"Of course," you told him, smiling; he nodded and walked over to Rick and the others.

"You both need to talk about your feelings for one another," Carol told you. "I can see it clear as day."

"Carol!" you said to the woman who had become a mother of sorts to you over the months. “I…cant”

"I think you can. I think you should," she told you, patting your back and going over to the others, leaving you thinking about how exactly you could even begin to explain to Daryl how Head becomes the soul man you wanted to be with for the rest of this apocalyptic world. 

It took you weeks and weeks to gain the courage, and only after he got shot did you tell him. He was lying in that recovery bed, not able to move a lot. You came in and sat beside him. 

"Whatcha doing in 'ere," He asked you as you sat down in the chair by his bed. 

"I…needed to tell you something…" You said to him, referring to the breakfast you had only a few hours earlier, which was being eaten away by the nerves. 

"What? Ya hurt?" he asked, concern spreading fast across his face.

"No, no," you told him, "I…god, I don't think I can tell you."

"Tell me what?" he asked, his southern accent so strong inside that room that it made your head spin.

"How you've been making me feel," you started, "I just didn't. I don't want to lose you, and after you got shot, I figured I might as well tell you before you died, and I never did."

"What are ya going on about?"

"I love you, Daryl. I've loved you since you saved me, and God, I love you even more since you've shown me how to be strong in this world", you rambled to the man in the bed beside you. Your hands were in your lap, and your eyes were glued to them. 

"Y/N," Daryl said in a soft tone you had never heard from him. 

"I know I should have told you you were the man who saved me, and you probably think I'm some kid to you", you said. Worry eating at you again.

"I don't think you're some kid." he told you, "I think you're a lot more than that."

"You do? You asked, eyebrows scrunched together. 

"That first night you spent with us, I didn't sleep cause I couldn't keep my eyes off ya," he told you, "I thought you were…blessed by a god or somethin'" he told you, holding your stare; there were tears in your eyes now 

"I don't think I ever heard you talk like that," you said, smiling through the slight tears brimming your eyes. 

"Ya won't again," he told you, pulling you down to him and kissing your lips so deeply. The door behind you opened, and then the person proceeded to fall into the door.

"Finally," Carol screeched. Smiles stretched over her face, as well as Ricks', who came to check on Daryl. Finally, you got to kiss your savor after all these months.

[jishyucks]

Flight of Fate — sjy

‣ pairing: jake sim x reader

‣ genre: fluff, meet-cute, implied strangers to something more

‣ wc: 4.5k

‣ summary: After months of being apart from your family, you finally get to fly back home for the holidays. On the flight there, you’re placed next to a cute stranger who has taken it upon himself to talk to you. What happens when the roads from the airport are closed overnight and you’re stuck with said stranger? You’re just hoping he doesn’t have any plans of kidnapping you.

‣ warnings: reader’s from Korea, but an ethnicity is not not explicitly stated (travels from Sydney to Korea, and family is from Korea), reader’s shorter than Jake, one quick scene where it’s really crowded

‣ an: uhh,,, idk how this reached 4.5k (I just kept writing) but this was cute ngl,,, im sorry if it seems so rushed in some parts, I rly wanted to write everything more detailed but I need to keep these short :( and im behind on this series’ sched too rip, but I still enjoyed writing this, soooo pls enjoy reading! *hand heart*

Series Masterlist

The second you settle into your airplane seat, you knock out. 

No, you didn’t care about seat belt instructions and how to tug the oxygen bag on, nor did you care about where the exits were on the plane because, frankly, you’ve flown enough times to recite it yourself. 

So the moment you sit down in your chair, even double-checking to see if you are in the correct seat, you buckle yourself up, slip your headphones on and shut your eyes. 

In your half-slumbered state, you feel the shuffling of other flyers nearby, you can hear the aggressive shutting of the overhead compartments above your seat, and you can hear the engine begin with a loud hum. 

You try to lull yourself to sleep with thoughts of finally coming home after months of studying abroad, feeling the corners of your lips lift to tighten your lips into a smile. You missed being home and seeing your parents, your siblings, your dog. You missed your bedroom and your house, and that familiar bump in the road that the car falls victim to on the way home.

And despite having to wake up at the asscrack of dawn to leave for the airport, it was all worth it when you remember that you’ll see and feel all of this soon. 

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

Gentle tapping on your shoulder rouses you from sleep, and you're uncertain how far into your flight you are. 

“Hm?” You realize you’re lying on a stranger’s shoulder when you raise your head. Your neck almost breaks when you turn to look at him, “Shit.”

“Would you like any drinks?” The flight attendant questions from your right and she and the other passenger, a woman, next to you are staring back at you, “We have pop, juice, tea, water, and coffee.” Her fingers hover over the selection of drinks, waiting for your response. 

“Um,” you say, voice hoarse from just waking up, “Just water would be fine, thank you.” The woman nods and pours you water into a cup, handing it over to you before moving on to the next set of people behind you. 

It’s suddenly getting really hot underneath your sweater and you’re growing a hundred times more aware of the man to your left. You’re afraid to even look at him, embarrassed that you were using his shoulder as a pillow. 

From the corner of your eye, you can see that he’s got his hood up, a mask covering the lower half of his face. His head is angled down to his lap, probably using his phone, so he doesn’t notice the way you’re tensing up all because of him.

You clear your throat and turn to the woman next to you, “How long into the flight are we?” She gives you a side-eye, not even bothering to give you an answer before she sticks her nose back into her book. 

Before irritation kicks into your system, the man next to you speaks up. His voice comes out as soft, which you honestly didn’t expect. 

“We’re about two hours in.” 

You whip your head in his direction, eyes wide when you realize he’s looking back at you, “T-thanks.” 

“It’s no problem,” he replies. The way his eyes curve, you can tell he’s smiling behind his mask, “Looks like you were having a good sleep there, huh? Sorry I had to wake you up.” You can’t tell if he was making fun of you or not. But the tone in his voice seemed playful. 

You feel your cheeks heat up and you turn away from him, embarrassed that you were almost drooling on his shoulder, “Uh yeah, I did… sorry about… you know…” 

When your eyes flicker to his arm, he immediately understands what you’re trying to say and he lets out a laugh that wouldn’t disturb anyone else on the plane, “It’s nothing. I really didn’t mind, to be honest. I hope that doesn’t sound creepy.” 

You feel the tension in your body begin to dissipate, shoulders falling back against your seat as you continue the conversation, “Well, if you don’t mean it in a creepy way, then it’s not creepy.” You reach for your water sitting on the pull-down table in front of you and take a sip from it. 

Your actions somehow remind the man that he had just gotten a drink, too, so he mirrors your actions, extending his arm to grab the cup of coke sitting on his own table. He hums to acknowledge your reply before tugging down his mask to take a sip and, oh boy, were you not ready to see his face. 

Sure the man had pretty eyes and a voice that could perfectly suit a podcast or two, but you didn’t expect him to look… 

Okay, he was cute. Like really cute. He resembled a puppy, in a cute way and you were trying your best not to physically react to the man’s face reveal. You let out a huff of air and then take another sip of water before you scoot back into your chair. 

He gulps down the beverage, mask hanging off one ear. He looks over at you and offers a grin, which you find yourself swooning over, “So, are you going home or are you on a trip?” 

Your heart warms at his efforts to make conversation and you’re driven to angle your body closer toward his direction instead of directly in front of you, “I’m going home, how about you?”

He nods, “On a trip, but I have a lot of family in Korea, so it’s a mix?” The boy’s eyes look off to the side as he’s honestly unsure how he should describe his trip. 

“You’re going alone?” You ask. 

“My family went ahead of me because I had exams,” he continues, “They wanna get their money’s worth with the tickets so they wanted to head there earlier.” 

You nod, “That’s fair.” 

And he lets out a low hum, “Yeah, gotta squeeze every bit out of those tickets.” 

You nod again and look down at your lap. There’s a beat of a brief silence before you see a hand stick out under your nose, palm facing you, “I’m… Jake, by the way.” 

It hadn’t occurred to you that neither of you asked for names. The conversation just rolled out naturally. Since Jake offered his left hand to shake yours, you do the same, gently taking his hand, “Y/N.”

Surely, you thought that conversation would end there, maybe with a bit more small talk over the next several hours of the flight, but boy, you were wrong. 

The (one-sided) awkwardness between you and Jake seemed to dissipate entirely as time elapsed and you found yourself genuinely enjoying your conversation with Jake. The conversation jumped from topic to topic, starting off with the basics like where you studied and majors before it branched out into more specific subjects like why you chose to study biomedical sciences and why he aspired to be an engineer. Then, it was a matter of time before you dove down into what your go-to movie was when it came to flying, especially when the flying time between Australia and South Korea was long.  

“Do you like Australia or Korea more?” Jake looked over at you with a cheeky smile, knowing that the question was something that would throw you off. 

You take a moment to think because, yes, Korea was your home. It was where you were born and raised. But you’ve also grown to love Australia over the past almost 4 years of undergrad. It was different from your hometown, but you’d say that’s also a place you could call home, too. It was genuinely hard to choose, especially when Jake, someone who was born and raised in Australia, was waiting on an answer—you didn’t want to offend him or betray your own town.

“Well…” You say, “Both?” “Oh, c’mon~” Jake whines playfully, “If you had to choose one, and only one, which one would you choose?” 

“Well, I’d choose South Korea,” you retort, “The same way and reason you’d probably choose Australia.” You peek at the boy through your lashes before a small grin appears on your face, “Am I right?”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Jake mirrors your expression, “But I still love Korea.”

“That’s me with Australia,” you point out, “They’re both really different, so it’s hard to choose a favourite. But I like familiarity, which is why I chose Korea.” The weather and climate, geography, people… the list goes on. Both places were beautiful in their own way. 

If it wasn’t for the flight attendant returning for the 2nd meal of the flight, you would not have realized that there was far less than half of the flight left for you to go. The hours had passed by seamlessly, and you're surprised by how fast the time has flown. Jake was easy to talk to and the conversations with him had made the flight feel like a brief interlude rather than a long-haul journey. 

As you enjoy the meal, Jake glances at the small screen in front of him, checking the flight progress. "We're almost there," he remarks, a hint of regret in his voice.

The realization that your journey is coming to an end settles in. You can't help but feel a twinge of disappointment, knowing that you'll soon part ways. The prospect of returning to your routine is now accompanied by a newfound friendship, one you didn't anticipate when you boarded the plane.

"I guess we'll be landing soon," you say, trying to mask the reluctance in your voice.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We are now beginning our descent into Seoul, South Korea. The local time is 5:38 in the evening. Please remain seated with your seatbelts securely fastened as we make our approach. The weather in Seoul is a chilly negative nineteen and heavy snowfall, but do not worry, we expect a smooth landing. Thank you for flying with Korean Air."

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

Jake trails behind you as you both make your way out of the terminal, rolling your carry-on down the long airport corridor. Your legs feel like jelly from the sitting, almost feeling like a newborn calf learning how to walk for the first time. 

You pass by people waiting to board their planes, and others arriving alongside your flight. Although the air in the airport was refreshing in comparison to the plane, you were craving to get a whiff of actual fresh air from outside. 

When you finally reach the exit, you couldn’t help but glance back to see if Jake was still there, which he, in fact, was. His eyes melt into crescents when he notices you looking back—you’re guessing he’s smiling—and you quickly turn back to look where you’re going. 

You wonder if it was too far-fetched to ask him for his number. 

Besides, he wasn’t a total stranger. You spoke to the man for practically the entire flight, excluding the times you both wanted some shut-eye or needed to get up to pee. 

So he really wasn’t a stranger. 

You were just afraid that it would be weird to actually ask for his number or his socials. 

You don’t expect to see a huge crowd of people the minute you step out of the terminal and into the baggage claim area. It was almost as if someone had amplified the sound of bees buzzing, the muttering and babble of people filling the room. 

“What in the…” you hear Jake next to you, almost confused as you were, “What’s going on?”

You turn and look up at him, shrugging as you bring yourself up to your tippy toes to try and gather some kind of feasible understanding of the situation. Left and right, individuals were yelling (rather angrily), and others appeared to be just as confused as you were.

People were trickling in from behind, slowly pushing you and Jake closer to the people in front of you. And when Jake notices the way your eyes widen at the accumulating group of people, he situates himself behind you to act as a buffer between you and the growing crowd. 

“For those of you just joining us, we want to explain what is going on.” A man closer to the front of the crowd was standing on a counter, megaphone in hand. The room grows quiet, though not completely. “As you all know, it is currently snowing rather heavily in Seoul. The city has decided to close the roads to ensure everyone’s safety.”

Loud murmuring erupts among the people and you hear Jake join in, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“This means…” The man waits for room to grow quiet so that he doesn’t need to repeat himself again, “This means that you all, unfortunately, have to stay put within the airport as we wait for the city to reopen the roads. From our understanding, we do not know how long this will take, as it is still snowing. We apologize for the inconvenience. We are providing some resources and services for free or at a discounted price for the time being. Thank you for your understanding." 

He hops off the counter and the crowd begins to disperse. Although angry, disappointed, or confused, everyone knew that they really couldn’t do anything about the situation. 

You’re not sure how to feel. Because you were so close to getting home and now the damn snow has decided to stop you from doing so. The man did say that it wasn’t going to be long before the roads reopened, but you felt like you were a puppy being held back by a leash. 

“This is fucking stupid.” You say this to no one in particular, feeling tension in your forehead when you furrow your brows. 

“Look at the bright side,” Jake says, “You’ll get home safely. I’m sure they’re probably clearing and salting the roads right now.” 

You huff, “You’re right.” The taut muscles in your shoulders loosen at the thought and you mentally thank Jake for pointing that out. You’d very much rather get home in one piece. And you’re pretty sure your family would like that too. 

“Hey, since we’re sorta snowed in,” Jake starts, “Wanna go grab our luggage and then find someplace to sit together?” Then he realizes how weird this could sound depending on the person, “We can talk and stuff?” 

Though that was a given that you were going to be sticking around Jake until you left, especially since you did not want to spend this time alone, you appreciate the way he still asked you. “Yeah, that sounds good.” 

With a huff and a shared understanding, you and Jake make your way to the baggage claim carousel. People were already awaiting their bags, standing behind the yellow line marked for safety around it. The atmosphere in the airport feels different now. The excitement you had initially felt was replaced with a mix of frustration and resigned acceptance, and you were sure that the other travellers were feeling the same way. 

As your luggage appears on the conveyor belt, you and Jake quickly grab your belongings and maneuver through the dispersing crowd in search of a place to settle. 

“Do you care where we go?” Jake asks. He’s taken it upon himself to look for a spot for you both, being able to crane his neck higher over the crowd, “Or do you prefer a corner?”

“Somewhere with enough space,” you retort, “Otherwise, I don’t mind anywhere.” 

You watch Jake as he gets up on his tippy toes, teetering from one foot to the other. He knows it shouldn’t be too hard, especially since other travellers were moved to the 2nd floor. 

“There!” Jake mindlessly grabs your hand and starts speed walking, dodging people walking aimlessly. His long legs send you flying, trying to keep up with his pace. Sure it wasn’t super fast, but with his long strides, you find yourself running to match Jake’s steps.

He guides you to a place closer to the wall of the airport, seats empty for you guys to wait it out. You’re surprised that no one has actually taken the space yet, but you figured that since it was a harder-to-reach area, people didn’t want to bother making their way to the spot and instead decided to settle on whatever free area they could find. 

When Jake realizes that he is still holding your hand, he quickly lets go, "Guess I got a bit carried away there. Sorry about that." He stuffs his hand into his hoodie pocket and his mask covers the bashful smile.

“It’s fine,” you say reassuringly. It’s not like Jake had any ill intentions when he grabbed your hand. 

To change the topic, you suggest making the small area comfy for the two of you, ensuring that it truly was a place that would be great to relax while you waited the situation out. 

You and Jake drape your coats over the chairs you’ve claimed, setting your suitcases and bags down to create a mini barrier between your space from your neighbours. The airport's ambiance echoes with a mixture of impatience and resignation. As you and Jake settle into your makeshift waiting area, the tension in the air slowly begins to dissipate. The soft hum of conversations and the occasional announcement overhead become the backdrop to your current predicament.

"Alright," Jake says, looking around your little haven, "Now we just wait, I guess."

You nod, pulling out your phone to check for any updates. The snow outside seems to be relentless, creating a serene yet inconvenient winter wonderland. You sigh, realizing that this situation might take longer than expected. You send your mom a quick update, explaining the situation before you go to reach for your laptop.

“Wanna watch a show with me?” you suggest, “Kill some time?” 

Jake doesn’t hesitate to accept your invitation, stating that he didn’t mind any show. You balance your computer up on your suitcase and press play on an older episode of Abbott Elementary. 

The show, you figured, was a feel-good show, one that you hoped would distract the both of you from the current situation. Surely enough, you and Jake find yourselves immersed in the show, occasionally laughing and commenting. 

It was funny when you think about the current situation. You were trapped at the airport with a boy you met not even twelve hours ago and you were enjoying your time. Which was odd. Because you knew that if you were going through this entire situation alone, you wouldn’t know how you’d be doing. 

That points back to the question of whether you should ask Jake for his number or his number (or just anything you can use to contact him). Would it still be weird at this point? I mean… he held your hand… even if it was instinctively. It shouldn’t be weird, right?

After a few episodes, the long day started taking a toll on you and your eyes began to grow heavy. If you weren’t in the same room as a hundred and something other people, you would have just been knocked out right then and there. But there was a good chunk of you that was afraid to go to sleep, both for your safety and your belongings sitting out in the open like this. 

“If you’re tired, you can take a nap,” Jake reads you like a book. You didn’t even realize that he noticed, “I’ll watch over you and our stuff. But only if you let me keep watching.” 

Your stomach flutters at his offer. If you were being honest, Jake was scaring you just a little bit. Because how can a guy be so cute and so kind and seem so perfect? 

You hum and give him a side-eye, “And how do I know I can trust you?”

Jake’s eyes widened, alarmed, “I haven’t done anything creepy, have I? I-I said I was sorry all those times!” 

You almost laugh out loud, “But what if that was all just to gain my trust?” You were mostly joking, but you were still suspicious simply because Jake didn’t seem real. 

Jake’s face contorted, visibly thinking the situation through, “Okay, I pinky promise you I’m a good person! A pinky promise is one of the strongest promises of all promises.” He sticks his pinky out like a child, blinking rapidly at you with his puppy dog eyes. 

“Fine,” you huff, locking your pinky with his, “Wake me up in an hour? Then I’ll let you nap.” Jake nods and watches as you slump in your seat, angling your body across the chair and using your arm as a pillow. 

When you wake up, it almost feels surreal that you’re waking up in a packed airport, the fluorescent lights still beating down on those trying to rest. You lift your head to look at Jake, feeling the blood rush oddly in your head at the sudden change of position. 

You smile when you see that Jake is still there, sitting and watching a show on your laptop like how you left him. The only difference was that he was holding a hot beverage cup in his hand and that another was sitting on top of his own suitcase. When he spots you stirring, a warm smile spreads across his face.

"Hey, sleepyhead," he says, his voice a gentle wake-up call.

You greet him back and reach for your phone, checking to see if you have any notifications. When your eyes flicker to the time, you gasp and go to hit Jake on the shoulder, “Jake, I told you to wake me up after an hour! It’s been three!”

“I didn’t want to wake you up,” he replies. He leans forward and picks the other cup up, “Here I got you hot chocolate and a cookie not long ago. I didn’t know what you liked. I asked the lady over there if she could watch you and our stuff if I got her a drink, too.” 

You thank him, taking the drink and cookie before taking a long sip from the cup, “Thanks… Now I feel bad because you haven’t been able to go to sleep.”

Jake smiles nervously, “If I’m being honest I fell asleep for a bit… Please don’t be mad at me! One second I was awake and the next I was waking up!”

You can’t help but laugh, “I’m not mad at you, don’t worry. Thanks for watching our stuff by the way.” 

“It was nothing, really,” Jake says, “I didn’t mind it at all.” 

Your eyes twinkle realizing that Jake's sincerity is both endearing and genuine. As you sip the hot chocolate, the warmth seeping through your body, you feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected company in this airport limbo.

Then you look around. The atmosphere around you has shifted. Despite everyone’s initial rush to get home for the holidays, you notice that everyone has given up on stressing themselves out, settling on their temporary homes within the airport, sharing stories, snacks, and even the occasional game. It was cute. 

“Wanna go for a short stroll?” Jake speaks up, “I’ll make a deal with auntie again.”

“Let’s go.” You nod ecstatically, needing to stretch your legs, “And I want real food too.”

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have some important news. The snowstorm has finally abated, and we are pleased to inform you that the city has reopened the roads. Flights will now resume their regular schedules. Please check the updated departure boards for your new gate assignments. Thank you for your cooperation, and we apologize for any inconvenience caused."

The announcement echoes through the airport, bringing a wave of renewed energy and a realization that the long wait is finally over.

You exchange a wide-eyed glance with Jake, the reality of the situation hitting you. The roads are open, and your journey home is back on track. For some odd reason, you even feel like crying, because you’ve been stuck at the airport for almost eight hours (the longest eight hours of your life), and now you finally get to leave. Your wide eyes were quickly replaced with that of relief and excitement. 

“Fucking finally,” Jake breathes out. The two of you join the collective movement as passengers around you celebrate the news. Luggage is grabbed, bags are slung over shoulders, and the airport buzzes back to life. You can already predict that traffic is going to be nasty on the way home despite it being almost one in the morning. 

It hadn’t dawned down on you that you and Jake were going to be separating ways soon and you still weren’t sure if it was okay to ask him for any contact information. It was either grow a pair and just go for it, or never speak to him again. 

You start bundling up, sending a quick text to your mom to ask if she is on her way when you feel Jake staring at you through between his hood and scarf. 

“I had fun today,” Jake says, “Genuinely.” 

“I did too,” you reply, “I don’t know how I would’ve survived if I was alone.” 

You continue rummaging with your things, making sure you have everything that you brought with you. 

“I’d like to—” Jake clears his throat, “I’d like to hang out again.” 

Your hands pause their movements as Jake's words hang in the air. His admission catches you by surprise, and you turn to look at him, meeting his gaze through the layers of winter clothing.

"Yeah?" you ask, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. A sense of relief washes over you, thankful that you weren’t the only one who was enjoying your time with the other. 

"Yeah," Jake confirms with a nod. "I mean, if you're up for it. No pressure, of course.” The sincerity in his eyes reassures you, and you find yourself reciprocating the sentiment. 

"I'd like that. A proper hangout, not stuck in an airport this time." 

Jake grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Deal." Jake shyly sticks his phone out to you, the screen showing a new contact page. You gladly take it, happy that Jake took it upon himself to ask for your number. 

"I guess we should get going," Jake suggests, noticing the large groups of people gathering by every exit of the building. 

"Yeah, my mom's near, actually," you say, shouldering your bag. "I’ll text you when I can, and we'll plan something."

"Looking forward to it," Jake replies.

The two of you follow the wave of people leaving the airport in silence, focusing on actually getting out of the building. Surprisingly, the constant pace that the other people were taking had allowed you both to finally step foot out of the airport, and you two were able to get a much-needed whiff of fresh air. 

Before you actually part ways with Jake, you turn to him, "Happy holidays, Jake. Take care, okay?"

“You too.” He nods, “Let me know when you get home safely."

taglist: @tytrackfebreze @hoonieji @niinjo @dinonuguaegi @mrchweeee @ariadores @reignessance

[aislinrayne]

[𝔐𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱]

𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: After a particularly rough case, Reader starts acting distant. Lockwood thinks giving her space will help. When he's woken by the phone ringing, George doesn't need to know what happened to know it's probably Lockwood's fault.

ℜ𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤: Mature/Explicit.

𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: Alcohol consumption, strong language, sexual content (second base with intent to go further), anxious avoidant Reader, Reader is shorter than Lockwood, drunk Reader, Reader is harassed at the bar, brief touch without consent, no use of y/n.

𝔄𝔲𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔯'𝔰 𝔑𝔬𝔱𝔢: Fuck I love playing with different kinds of dynamics. I've had this sitting partially drafted in my writing folder for a year now, and the brain-goblins wouldn't let me keep working on SM until this was done lmao Please let this be the year I finally get a handle on my creative flow fml

𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔡 ℭ𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 6.1k

    The first time the phone rings, both inhabitants of 35 Portland Row manage to remain deep in a well earned slumber.

  The second time the phone rings, it successfully rouses one George Karim.  Muttering a string of colourful insults under his breath that - had he been in his family home - would have earned him a smack over the head with his mother’s slipper, he reluctantly drags himself from the warmth and comfort of his duvet.  Letting out a long suffering sigh that lasts through the entire shuffle from his room to the phone on the floor below, he lifts it from the receiver and greets the caller with a noise somewhere between ‘hello’ and ‘fuck off’.

  “Evening, sorry to wake you.  This is James, calling from The Royal Oak.  Is there a, uh-”  Even over the numerous voices and the clinking of glass in the background, George can hear the gruff sounding man being interrupted by a woman’s voice mumbling incoherently before all sound is muffled by a palm being pressed over the mic on the other end, “-sorry, did you say…?  Really, sweetheart?  Alright, but don’t try to blame this on me tomorrow when you sober up.”  

  Then the phone is back to full volume. “Sorry about that, I’ve got a young lady here who says she lives at this address?  She’s too drunk to get herself home and this is the number she gave for someone she trusts to come get her.  But, uh, she-”  James seems like he’d rather not say the next bit, “well, she just keeps asking for ‘that selfish wanker’?  Won’t give me a name otherwise.”

  There’s not a lot in this world capable of rendering George completely speechless, but that…  That does it.  He allows the phone to drop from his ear for a moment, resting it on his shoulder as he attempts to compose himself and reply to the nice man on the other end of the line.

  “Uh…  Yeah, she- she’s ours.  Probably talking about our boss, then.  I’ll, uh…  I’ll go wake him.  I’m sure he’ll be there very soon.”  He has to speak up over the sound of James choking and sputtering in surprise to say a polite ‘thank you’ and ‘goodbye’, before slamming the phone down and jogging up the stairs to wake his friend.  

  He pauses for a moment halfway up, considering heading back downstairs to grab a boot to throw at the door.  Unfortunately his need for immediate answers outweighs his urge to be petty, so he settles for pounding loudly on the door instead.   There’s quiet rustling and not so quiet cursing on the other side before it’s ripped open.

  “What?!”  A dishevelled Anthony Lockwood snaps, blinking sleep from glaring eyes and leaning on the doorframe in an endeavour to keep himself upright.

  “Just got a call from The Royal Oak, down on York Street?  Turns out they have a resident of this address drunkenly calling for a ‘selfish wanker’ to come pick her up.”  George crosses his arms, raising a challenging eyebrow at the taller man.  

  Lockwood’s expression shifts from its existing irritated frown into confusion, then straight to alarm.  He wastes no time flipping the light switch beside the doorway, bathing the room in light as he crosses it to tug one of his dresser drawers open.

  “Can you call me a Night Cab, please?  Offer them double fare to prioritise.”  He calls over his bare shoulder, searching for a t-shirt and hoodie to toss on.  His researcher says nothing as he complies, deciding to save the interrogation for later.

  Anthony is properly worried.     Their third roommate had come back from their last job acting distant.  They’d been separated by a pair of particularly nasty Spectre’s for close to an hour, but she’d succeeded in securing the Source’s and they’d all made it out in one piece.  He’d been so caught up in pride for his team he hadn’t noticed the effect it had on her until days later.  When he tried to approach her with his concerns, she clammed up and looked as though she was about to cry before excusing herself to her room.  None of the members of his agency, himself included, had seen her exit her room for two days after that.   He hadn’t asked about it since, and while giving her space seemed to be working by way of not making her cry, he was starting to wonder if it had been upsetting her in a different way.     Even taking all of that into consideration, there’s still no way he could have seen a phone call like this coming at 2:56 AM on a Tuesday.

  All he can find is a sleeveless black undershirt.  With a huff of frustration he pulls it over his head, kicking the drawer closed simultaneously, then pulling open the one above it.  The joggers he fell asleep in are fine enough, so after a fit of undignified hopping across the room to cover his feet with pink socks he grabs a random hoodie off of the armchair by the window, shrugs into it, and zips it on his way down the stairs.

  George is waiting for him at the bottom, staring at his watch.

  “Your cab should be here in three minutes, mine should be here in thirteen.”  He looks up from his wrist, meeting his boss’s confused look with an exasperated one.  “I’m heading to Flo’s for the night, so whatever you fucked up, mate?  Fix it.”  Karim claps him on the shoulder, walking past him to pack an overnight bag.  It might not be conventional, but Anthony knows it’s the closest thing to encouragement he’s going to get.

  The next several minutes pass in a blur of waiting and worrying, until finally it’s 3:14 AM and he’s slipping the cab driver an extra twenty quid to wait for them, swearing to be no longer than fifteen minutes.  The ungodly-early morning air is sharp and cold, cutting to the bone as soon as he steps out of the comforting warmth of the vehicle.  It’s plenty enough encouragement to hurry his way to the building, pulling the door open to slip into the soft golden warmth and loud ambiance of the pub.  

  He hesitates on the doormat, catching sight of the other patrons.  Thankfully it isn’t a particularly highbrow establishment, but it's nice enough for him to feel noticeably underdressed in black joggers and a grey zip-up.  And then he lays eyes on her, and all insecurities are immediately banished by the sharp knife of shock burying itself in his gut.  

  She’s balanced on a table, wearing a little black dress he’d never seen before.  Her arms are raised above her head, fingers combing through her hair as her hips sway to the bass of the music in a way that probably would have had his mouth watering if it wasn’t for present circumstances.   He isn’t the only one noticing her.  There’s a group of men standing around the table, watching her with hungry eyes that make his skin crawl with disgust.   A tall blonde man pushes his way past the rest of the crowd, deep set ice blue eyes chasing up her legs.  She seems to either be unaware of his presence, or too lost in the music to care.  Even from his position across the room he can see her eyes are out of focus, drifting away for split seconds every few beats from the speakers on the wall.     The man raises a hand and grabs her thigh, using enough pressure to leave visible fingermarks.

  Lockwood finds himself frozen in place, blood boiling as he mentally considers how challenging talking his way out of a murder charge could really be.  Surely not that much harder than talking his way out of an arson charge, and he’d done that often enough to be confident in his abilities.

  Before his sleep deprived mind can break free of its indecision, the girl spins around abruptly and slaps the lecherous limb away from her.  The slime of a man attached to it is none too happy about that, making a move to grab for her arm.  Her normally impeccable reflexes are slowed by the alcohol, she can’t move fast enough to avoid the attack.  When his fingers close around her wrist, he pulls.  Hard.     She teeters on the edge of the table, her short cry of pain audible even over the music.

  Huh.  He’d always thought the whole ‘seeing red’ thing was entirely turn of phrase, but as it turns out, there’s actually a modicum of truth to it.

  He’s halfway across the bar by the time he realises he’s in motion, but he’s not about to stop.  Closing the remaining distance in a few purposeful strides, he grabs the creep’s arm in a vice grip.  The blonde releases his hold on her immediately, instinctively trying to pull away from the pain.  Lockwood lets him stumble away in surprise, wasting no time placing himself in between his friend and the threat to her safety.  At first he’s optimistic he might have a chance to vent some anger when the wanker locks eyes with him, but whatever he’d seen in Anthony’s was enough to make him back down and stumble off with an insincere apology.  

  Reminding himself to focus his attention where it belongs, he turns to look up at the girl on the table.  Her face lights up with delight when she recognizes him, then swiftly sours the longer she looks at him.   He feels like an absolute prick for not noticing the dark circles around her eyes sooner.  Swallowing around the lump in his throat, he reaches up to offer her both of his hands, palms up.  She sways in place for a moment, scowling pensively at the proffered appendages.  He studies her face while he waits patiently, trying to find any hint of what could be bothering her enough to take this approach to forgetting.

  With a tiny hiccup she finally caves, placing her hands in his and allowing him to help her to solid ground.  Once both of her feet are securely on the sticky floor, he offers her his arm for support.  She gives him another little glare, but just like before, she eventually accepts his help.   Scanning the other tables and chairs around her makeshift stage, he sees no sign of a purse or jacket that he recognises in the slightest.

  “Did you bring anything with you, sweetheart?”  He asks her directly, leaning closer to her ear to be heard over the noise.  If he didn’t know any better he’d say she looks almost flustered; eyes glazed, cheeks flushed a beautiful shade of pink, looking through him rather than at him as she tries to filter his words through the haze of liquor clouding her mind.     Although he’s prepared to wait as long as it takes for her to answer, he can’t help but feel a touch relieved when the bartender waves him over holding a familiar leather clutch.  Gently taking her by the arm, he guides her to a nearby chair to sit and wait for him to collect her belongings.  Giving a final warning look to the remaining crowd for good measure, he leaves her side to approach the bar.

  The man behind it is average height, with mid length dark hair as well kept as his perfectly trimmed goatee.  He abandons the glass he’s polishing, tossing the white cloth he’d been using over his shoulder and offering Anthony a calloused hand.  “I take it you must be-”

  “‘That selfish wanker’?  Present and accounted for, though I also answer to ‘Anthony’.”  He replies, accepting the handshake.  

  The other man’s grip is firm but friendly, and he throws his head back in merriment at Lockwood’s unexpected introduction.  “James, pleasure to finally meet you.  I’ve heard a lot about you from your little Songbird over there.”

  Lockwood winces.  “Not all bad, hopefully.”

  “No, not all bad.”  James soothes before leaning in conspiratorially, “Just don’t tell her I said that.”

  He shoots him a wink as he settles back, and now it’s Anthony’s turn to laugh.  It’s decided then and there; they like each other.

  He reaches behind the lip of the bar, grabbing the clutch he’d tucked out of sight until he could determine Lockwood’s identity.  “This is all she brought with her.  You’ve got a safe way home?”

  Anthony takes it from him with a grateful smile.  “Yeah, paid the driver to stick around.  I consider myself pretty good at multitasking, just not ‘keeping her upright and not getting ghost-touched’ good.”  James lets loose a hearty laugh in response.

  The screech of wood against the floor draws their attention back to the woman formerly in the chair, now standing unsteadily a few feet away.

  “And that’s my cue.  Pleasure to meet you, James.  And, uh-”  He glances back at her involuntarily.  “Thank you.  For keeping an eye on her, calling us, the lot of it.”

  The bartender smirks, quirking an eyebrow and giving him a knowing look.  “It's what any decent person would do.  Don’t be a stranger now, either of you.”

  Lockwood departs the bar, clutch in hand, with a salute and a promise to be back another time.   She seems confused at first when he tries to get her attention, switching to stare at him reproachfully when she recognises him again.  He sighs, trying to tuck away his own feelings of exhaustion and defeat.  

  “Let's get you home, love.”  He murmurs, offering his arm again.  She takes it without hesitation this time, leaning heavily against him as they make their way to the exit.  Pausing on the doormat, he carefully extracts his limb from her grip, soothing her little noise of protest by assuring she’d be using him as a crutch again momentarily.  The metal of the zipper is cold against his bare arms as he shrugs his hoodie off, blatantly ignoring her attempts to argue with him and draping the grey fabric over her shoulders.

  The cold breeze cuts into him once they’re outside, but he carefully schools his expression to avoid showing her it's affecting him at all.  Despite having paid the man extra, he’s still pleasantly surprised to see the black cab still waiting at the curb.   It’s easier than he’d expected to load her into the comfortable back seat.  She doesn’t even try to swat his hand away when he places it on top of her head to prevent her bouncing it off the roof in her attempt to get in.   Once she’s scooted to the far side, he climbs in after her.  She seems lost in thought, staring absently at the headrest in front of her.  He leans closer slowly, giving her ample time to move away if she doesn’t want him in her space.  When she remains stationary, he reaches across her body to grab her seatbelt, gently buckling her in and tightening the belt over her hips.  

  She finally looks at him, expression blank as she studies his features.  It’s clear her mind is elsewhere, and she returns to staring at the black leather so quickly he wonders if he’d imagined the whole thing.   He gives their driver the all clear, directing him to drop them off where he’d first picked him up before slumping back into his seat for the uncomfortably quiet ride home.

  They’re half-way there when he can stand to ignore the elephant in the room no longer.  The words slip out before he can think of a more tactful way to ask;  “What’s going on with you?”

  She turns to look at him so slowly it’s almost unnerving. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  She answers bitterly, her voice laced with the same steel as her eyes.

  “That’s bloody horseshit!”  He scoffs, far too tired to hold back.  “If there was nothing wrong, I wouldn’t have gotten a call tonight.”

  Her mouth opens and closes soundlessly for several seconds, seemingly overwhelmed by the number colourful insults she’d like to hurl at him.  

  “Like you care.”  She finally mutters, shaking her head and turning away from him to stare pointedly out her window.

  “...What?”  He manages to put his frustration on hold for a moment, making room for his growing concern.  “Of course I care, what makes you think I wouldn’t?”

  She laughs darkly, shaking her head.  “You’ve got a funny way of showing it.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?!”  He cries in exasperation.

  She whips around to face him.  “You knew I was struggling!  You knew, and you ignored it because it was easier than dealing with me!”  Her eyes are wild, chest heaving as she draws in air like she has to fight for every breath.

  All hostility drains out of him in an instant, leaving him uncomfortably hollow in its absence.  He’s intimately aware of her eyes searching his face, trying to gain some kind of insight into his mind.     He feels like he’s just stumbled into a minefield, and in a way he has.  If his next words aren’t carefully chosen, he could detonate one and destroy his friendship with someone he can’t live without.

  Organising his thoughts and taking a deep breath, he plunges ahead.

  “I’m sorry.  I thought by giving you space I was giving you what you needed, but I should have just talked to you.  And you’re right, I was being selfish, just… not in the way you’re thinking.”  She looks like she’s about to interrupt, but he ploughs on.  “I was afraid if I pushed too hard you’d shut me out.  I thought it would be safer to stay silent and let you come to me when you were ready, but it was my responsibility to communicate that to you, and I failed.”

  They sit in stillness for far longer than he’s comfortable with, his words hanging in the air between them.

  When she finally puts him out of his misery, he has to strain to hear her over the rumble of the car.  “It wasn’t two Spectres.”

  It feels like someone’s poured ice down his back.  “...What?”

  “The last job?  We thought it was just two Spectres, but it wasn’t.  It-”  Her voice shakes, then dies.  She has to stop and breathe, looking like she’s about to be crushed by the weight of the words on her tongue.  “One of them was a Fetch.”

  Staring down at his hands, he searches for the right words to say.  Is he supposed to say anything at all?  If he interrupts now, will she shut him out?  If he doesn’t, will she think he doesn’t care?     A point of personal pride for him is being able to read people, to shape himself into whatever role they need him to fill, but… he has no idea who she needs him to be right now.  

  She hesitantly continues.  “It was you.”  

  He looks up at her only to find her eyes already on him.  “It wasn’t.”

  She laughs sadly, but doesn’t look away.  When she tips her head to concede the point, the light catches at the corner of her eye.  “Right.  It did use your face, though.”

  “Whatever it said, it isn’t true.”  He can’t resist the urge to reach across the seat between them, wiping the tear from her cheek and hoping she can feel the truth in his words when he says;  “A Fetch will find your worst fear and exploit it.  And I swear to you, I will never allow anything to make you feel afraid like this again.”

  Silence stretches on between them, becoming heavier with every second passing them by.  His thumb continues stroking her face slowly, absentmindedly.  If he didn’t know any better, he’d think her eyes had drifted to his lips. 

  “Kiss me.”

  His hand falls from her face.   For a second, he thinks it’s him that’s said it.  When he realises it wasn’t, the potential implications of her words make his heart stutter.  There’s a chance this is just a drunken impulse, a need for comfort in a moment of vulnerability.   If it is, what the hell is he supposed to do about it?  If he gives in to her, will he be able to carry on working beside her once he’s had a taste of the life with her he doesn’t even allow himself to dream about?   On the flip side, there’s a chance that this is an actual confession.  The Fetch had chosen his face to torment her, and as horrifying as that had been to hear, it only would have done so if she felt something for him.  Maybe she feels the same as he does.  Maybe the reason he can never figure out what mask to put on for her, is that she’s only ever needed him to be himself.     Hope fills every inch of him as he stares at her, enraptured.

  Then, he realises he’s been quiet for long enough for panic to fill her eyes.

  “Ask me in the morning.”  He breathes, feeling as perplexed as she looks when the words come out of his mouth.  She’s confused that he hasn’t directly shot her down.  He’s confused that he’s capable of this kind of restraint while sleep deprived.

  “What?”  She frowns, blinking as her eyes lose focus for a split second in her bewilderment. 

  Feeling more confident in his decision, he smiles softly at her. “Ask me when you’re sober, and when we’re not in this nice man’s cab.” 

  The driver laughs, trying and failing to cover it with a guilty cough.

  Once they reach 35 Portland Row,  Anthony covers the fare and slips the man a generous tip for enduring their antics before exiting the cab.  The emotional intensity of the ride home had been enough to partially sober up his companion, but he still isn’t sold on her ability to climb stairs without assistance.     He keeps his arm wrapped tightly around her waist until they reach the door of her room - formerly Lucy’s - on the top level of the house before reluctantly removing it.  She wobbles for a moment, but it seems to be more from her leaning to chase his touch than any serious instability.  They stand there for a while, neither willing to walk away from the other, until a large yawn overtakes her.

  He chuckles, suddenly remembering James’ nickname for her.  “Goodnight, Songbird.”

  “That’s a stupid nickname.”  She complains, scrunching up her face in distaste.  When all he does is laugh some more, she sighs and carries on.  “Goodnight, Anthony.  Sweet dreams.”

  He disagrees completely, of course.  From her lips, his name is the sweetest song he’s ever heard.   Turning away from him, she places her hand on the doorknob but doesn’t make any move to twist it.  He’s about to ask her if something is wrong when she turns back to him swiftly, closing the distance between them and standing on her toes to brace her hands on his shoulders as she presses the ghost of a kiss against his cheek.  By the time he’s raised trembling fingers to the tingling skin, she’s already in her room with the door closed behind her.

  He spends his early morning dreaming of the flutter of wings, and birds gently pecking him on the cheek.

  When he’s woken by persistent knocking on his door once more, Anthony Lockwood finds himself wondering what precisely he had done to piss off Hypnos in a past life.

  Still on high alert from his unusual evening, he’s out of bed and across the room without a second thought.  When he pulls the door open he’s entirely expecting another emergency, not to find the girl of his dreams standing there staring steadfast at her feet.

  “I am so sorry about last night, I should have told you what was going on instead of going on a bloody bender.  That was incredibly immature and irresponsible of me and I completely understand if you want to fire me.”  She starts slow, but by the end of her apology the words are flying out of her mouth.  Despite her best efforts, the misery in her voice as she says the last bit is tangible.

  Why would he want that?  Still not entirely awake, the first thing out of his mouth is the first thought in his mind.  “Please don’t leave.”

  “...What?”  Not even remotely prepared for that response, she finally looks up at him.  As their eyes meet, reality sets in and time seems to slow.

  When he takes a proper look at her, he completely forgets the entirety of the English language.  Her hair is mussed from sleep, remnants of last night's makeup smudged under her eyes.  She’d apparently had the mental faculties to change into her pyjamas the night previous, and while he’d seen her in those shorts often enough to control the urge to stare, something about her wearing his hoodie zipped over them was making him feel like a moron.  He’d never seen anyone more beautiful in his life.   On the other side of the doorway, she’s having a very similar crisis.  His sleep tousled hair only doubled her ever present urge to rake her fingers through it.  And not only had he been in such a hurry to answer the door he hadn’t bothered to slip on a shirt, his joggers were also sitting dangerously low on his hips.     Their eyes snap back to each other's faces in tandem, both flushing almost comical shades of red.

  “Did you mean what you said last night?”  He asks hurriedly, heart pounding in his throat.

  “I said a lot of things.”  She wraps her arms around herself, laughing nervously.  “Which part?”  

  He keeps his eyes fixed on hers, searching them for some clue to tell him what comes next.

  Mustering more courage than she thought she was capable of, she answers honestly.  “Yeah, I did.  Every word.”

  Mimicking his actions from the night before he extends both of his hands towards her, palms up.   She tilts her head quizzically, but places her hands in his.  He uses them to pull her close enough their bodies are almost touching, guiding her arms to rest on his shoulders, releasing them to place one hand on her waist and the other on the side of her neck.  She inhales sharply when he leans in, his thumb lightly stroking her jaw while her gaze flickers between his eyes and lips.   He’s studying her face like he never wants to forget a single detail, but he doesn’t get any closer.  She’s lightheaded and pretty sure she’s going to die if he doesn’t kiss her soon, which is probably why it’s not until she sees the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile that she realises what he’s waiting for.  

  “Kiss me.”  She breathes.

  He doesn’t need to be told a third time.   He leans down and kisses her like he’ll never get the chance to do so again, like the world is falling to pieces around them and the only thing that can save them is the feeling of her lips against his.     The hand on the side of her throat slides back to bury itself in her hair, cradling the back of her head to take the strain off her neck from their notable difference in height.  Her hands wander the expanse of bare skin across his back, mapping every muscle and scar like it’s the braille translation of his life story.  He shivers under her touch, wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her body tight to his in a desperate attempt to fill the yawning pit within him that had grown larger with every day he believed he’d never get to hold her like this.  

  As she runs her hands down his sides to his hips he gasps involuntarily, deepening their kiss with enthusiasm.  Driven by curiosity, she lets her nails graze his skin as she retraces her previous path.  The noise he makes in response is downright sinful, but so is the feeling of his rapier-calloused skin against her back as he slips his hand under the hem of his hoodie.  Her breath catches as his fingers trace featherlight patterns up and down her spine, feeling him grinning between kisses when he notices she’s not wearing anything beneath the grey material.  When he nips at her lower lip, she drags her nails down his back, and the last of his restraint abandons him.  

  Both of his hands drop, fingers dimpling the flesh of her upper thighs.  As in sync as they are in the field he’d never dared to imagine the same would apply to the bedroom, so he’s a little blown away when she understands his intentions immediately, jumping as he lifts her up to wrap her legs around his hips without breaking from each other.  Now he’s the one craning his neck to capture her lips, the floor creaking beneath his feet as he crosses the short distance to the wall, pressing her back against it and groaning at the restrained whimper that slips free from her.

  “Please don’t hold back.  I want to hear you sing for me, my little Songbird.”  He urges, adjusting his grip to slide his hands up her sides under his hoodie, palming one of her breasts and swiping a thumb experimentally across her skin to carefully catch one of her nipples between his thumb and the side of his forefinger.  She finally breaks, back arching away from the wall, head falling back against it as she moans unabashedly.  All of his strength threatens to leave him when she rolls her hips against his, dropping his free hand to grab at the plush of her ass and pull her impossibly closer as he whispers praise between frenzied kisses pressed to her throat.  She buries her hands in his hair, gasping for air as his ministrations travel to her collarbones then slowly down the centre of her chest, placing an open-mouthed kiss to swell of her breast-

  The front door slams open, startling them apart.  There’s the sound of shuffling beneath them as someone kicks off their shoes.

  “OI, MATE!”  George’s voice calls from the base of the stairs, “Did you fix it?”

  They look at each other, dazed and drunk off each other.  A confused frown decorates her features, mouth falling open to ask him what the hell their other roommate is talking about.  He shakes his head in exasperation, shooting her a look that reads ‘I’ll fill you in later’ and dropping his head to rest on her chest.  They take as many seconds as they dare like that, her fingers combing through his hair soothingly as he wraps his arms around her back, basking in the warmth of her body against his.  Reluctantly, he lifts his head and steps away from the wall, gently setting her back on her feet and pressing a kiss to her temple.  She seems hesitant to move away from him at all, back to staring at her feet instead of looking at him.  He’s known her for long enough to know she’s overthinking.

  “Hey, look at me.”  He slips his fingers beneath her chin, gently lifting her face to meet his concerned gaze.  “What’s on your mind, darling?”  

  “I don’t-”  She starts strong but stops suddenly, shifting anxiously.  “I really don’t want this to be a one time thing, or - or just a way to blow off steam-”

  He lets out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, cradling her face and pressing a brief but searing kiss against her lips.  She softens, melting into his touch.

  “Good,” He murmurs as he pulls away, tucking her hair behind her ear and giving her a peck on the cheek like the one she’d given him the night before, “because I don’t think I can survive another day of not being able to kiss you.”

  George chooses that moment to begin his ascent of the stairs.  They break away from each other, struggling to make themselves presentable before he makes it to the landing.  Anthony rushes to grab a shirt from the foot of the bed, throwing it over his head haphazardly  She squeaks when she finds the zipper of his hoodie down to her navel, shooting him a teasingly chastising look when he snickers and crosses past her to greet their researcher in the hall, running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to tame it.  She yanks the zip as high as it will go, trying to smooth her own hair as she approaches the bookshelf and grabs something at random.  She throws herself into the armchair in the corner of his room just in time, flipping the book open to roughly the halfway point and staring intently at the page as George reaches the top step.

  “Good morning!”  Anthony greets him far too cheerfully, leaning against the doorframe in an attempt to obscure the other man’s view of his room.  

  “...Morning.”  George replies, not even trying to disguise his attempts to peer around his boss.  “How’d it go last night?”  

  “Um - fine!  Yeah, just fine.  Perfectly fine.  Everything is… fine.”  She closes her eyes, letting out a slow quiet sigh at his obvious nerves.  

  Adjusting the book to make sure it’s in his line of sight, she grits her teeth and bites the bullet.  “Morning, Georgie!”  

  Lockwood looks over his shoulder at her in alarm, but at her reassuring nod he steps hesitantly out of the way so she’s in clear view.

  George inspects her with narrowed eyes.  “You are significantly less hungover than I’d expected.”

  She winces, not able to fault him in the slightest for the disappointment in his voice.  “Yeah, pretty sure it just hasn’t hit me yet.  Sorry about that.  It won’t happen again, Scouts Honour.”

  “Why are you in Lockwood’s room?”  His brow furrows almost imperceptibly.

  She doesn’t miss a beat.  “I was so drunk last night he was worried I was going to fall asleep on my back and choke on my own vomit, so he made me sleep in this ridiculously uncomfortable chair.”

  Both men fix their eyes on her.  Anthony looks horrified, while George looks strangely impressed.  The bespectacled man studies her for another moment and she holds her breath, hoping he’d bought it.  Shrugging a ‘fair enough’, he bids them a temporary farewell and walks into his own room, closing the door behind him.  

  She huffs a sigh of relief, closing her eyes and slumping back in the chair as the tension drains from her body.  When she cracks an eye a few long moments later, Anthony is still standing in the doorway with the same look of horror plastered across his face.

  “What’s wrong?”  She asks, worry laced in every syllable.  

  “I didn’t even think of that!  I could have let you die!”  He seethes, throwing his hands up in annoyance at himself.  

  She has to fight the urge to laugh at him, focusing instead on gathering her strength to stand and walk over to take his hands in her own.  

  “I appreciate the concern, my love, but I wasn’t that drunk by the time you got me home.”  She smiles fondly at him, lifting his hands to press soft kisses to each knuckle.  When she glances up at him even his ears are flushed pink, looking at her with a lovesick smile.  

  “Call me that again?”  He implores, pulling her against him.

  With a quiet laugh, she drapes her arms over his shoulders before replying.  “My love.”

  They lose themselves in each other for another several minutes, only parting grudgingly at the rumble of his stomach and the threat of another interruption.

  George waits until later that morning when Lucy, Kipps, and Holly have joined them and they’re all in the kitchen eating breakfast to comment on Anthony’s inside out shirt, and how impressed he is that the sixth member of their agency has learned to read upside down.   As Lucy slowly turns to look at them, eyes wide and jaw seemingly aiming to touch the floor, Anthony lets the red-faced young woman beside him hide her blush in his shoulder.  For some reason, he can’t even bring himself to be annoyed.  Grinning proudly, he winks at the Listener, causing her to shriek loudly and demand to know the full story.

  When his girlfriend looks up to shoot him a warning look, he mimics zipping his lips.  “Gentlemen don’t kiss and tell, Luce.”

  Lucy’s demands are finally met five years later when James taps the side of his champagne flute with his knife, drawing the attention of the room full of guests to tell his favourite story about the bride and groom.

⤛⊹ 𝔣𝔦𝔫 ⊹⤜

taglist: @tessas4 @chloejaniceeee @shakespearseclipse @ettadear @kassandra1000

𝔉𝔬𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔞𝔤𝔢𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱, 𝔱𝔞𝔭 [𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢]

[that-weeb-in-ur-closet]

"What's My Favorite?"

Part one: 👁🫦👁

Summary. ๋࣭ ⭑ Gojo asked you what your favorite body part of his is. You answer. And little did he know, you've thought about it before.

Including. ☾₊‧⁺ Smut, smut, smut. Mommy kink, f!reader, reader!dom, sub!Gojo, teasing, blow job, commanding, and maybe a part three.

Note from the author. ๋࣭ ⭑⚝ Sorry it took so long for a pt two! I broke a rib and had to go to the doctor, but I'm back! Hope you enjoy.

From the look on his face, you can already tell he's surprised. That's exactly what you were planning. He's always the one stunning you. He's always the one flirting.

It's your turn today.

You lean your hand down to his shoulder, tracing down to his back and leaning a bit closer. Once he's gotten over the initial shock, he starts to flow in with you. Leaning down a bit to get closer to your level, he smirks as your hand traces down his back and down to the lower section of it.

"Getting frisky, eh?" He says in a whisper, simply licking his lips when you don't reply verbally. As your hands make their way to his outer thighs, he grabs your waist, making dead eye contact with you. You finally answer.

"You're one to talk. Or, maybe you're not. When you speak, you say the wrong words, Satoru. Let your body do the talking."

With a sultry and enchanting voice, you beckon him closer. Your eyes, half-covered by heavy lashes, seem to hold a mysterious allure that leaves him powerless to resist your charms. (Damn Grammarly slay)

Your fingers lightly trace the inner of his thighs, teasing softly by sliding closer and closer to his member, then following along his leg and down to his knee. That makes him scoff lightly at you, eyes rolling and falling back onto you with annoyance.

"You can't just-" You cut him off with a particularly attractive "Ah, ahh, Satoru. I just told you, do not speak. Be a good boy for me, eh?"

He stops breathing for a split second, eyes widening before he nods and chews the inside of his lip. The way you command him makes his stomach twist, along with the way you're touching him. He's getting further aroused along with desperate.

Gliding your fingers down his shins, you rub gentle circles around his ankle. This is your first time doing anything with Satoru. Of course, you're gonna study every inch of him. Not many people get this chance. You're gonna savor it.

You lean down to kiss his calf, working your way up and taking your time. Lolling out your tongue a bit, making your way up his leg with kisses and licks, you find your way back to his inner thighs.

You look up and make eye contact with him, and you're met with a face full of pure desperation and need. As you slowly drag down the waistband of his shorts and boxers, admiring every bit of skin that gets revealed, along with focusing your eyes on his trimmed happy trail, you leisurely uncover his now free boner.

As you go about your activities, you notice that his eyes are fixed on you, lingering on your every move. There's a distinct energy surrounding him, one that speaks of a deep-seated desire that he can't seem to shake off. You can sense his longing in the way he whimpers, like a puppy seeking affection. His furrowed brow and quivering lip are clear indications of just how strongly he feels. It's almost as if he's transfixed by you and everything you do, unable to look away or break the spell that you seem to have over him.

And what do you do? Smile up at him and mutter, "Thank you for this meal." Then start kitten-licking the tip of his dick, which, as you expected, is perfect. Thick at the base, with some girth, he's fairly long with a shorter, pink tip. Not to mention how well-groomed he is.

As you start to take more and more of his length, he starts to whine and whimper, eyes slightly rolling back when you twirl your tongue around him. You slide your hand up a bit before mumbling, "Take your shirt off," and he doesn't hesitate for a second. The shirt? Dramatically ripped off. Your hand? Shamelessly grasping at his abs, the other holding his waist.

You start to bob your head a bit faster around him, he moans out a lewd, "Nggh- Mommy, p-please, f-fuck..."

Your eyes close when he shakily grabs your hair. He whines loudly when you give him a warning nibble on his tip, telling him to let go of the hair you spent two hours doing. And he lets go faster than he cums when you gag around his cock, forcefully sucking it deeper into your throat as his liquids shoot out and down your throat.

He didn't precum, hell no, he didn't have time. The way you took him all the way so effortlessly, he could swear you've done this before thousands of times. He felt euphoric as his cum shot out in a pattern. You look up at him and swallow, not letting a drop spill from your pretty little mouth. And he stared back, seeing stars and your eyes, which he could never tell the difference from anyway.

He leans down, repeatedly kissing your head as his cock throbs and squirts in your mouth. He holds your cheeks, placing hard and aggressive kisses all over your face. He can't get over this feeling and doesn't know what else he can do.

After you take his cock from your mouth, you look up at him with a small smile, licking your lips as he wipes the drool from your chin, looking at you as he puts on his glasses. But, before he can, you grab his arm.

"We aren't done, pretty boy. You haven't even pleased me yet."

[kaliforniahigh]

MEDUSA - Part Four.

We pick up right where we left off on the last part.

Warnings: talks of killing people, usual strip club stuff. Can y'all guess who the mysterious men are?

WC: 1.083 words. This one is on the shorter side, sorry :(

Summary: Y/N is a private dancer at a Gentleman's Club called Medusa. Noah Sebastian is a crime boss. Their paths cross when one night, Noah pays for one of her dances and they can't seem to be apart from each other.

Series Masterlist

After this eventful night, you really need to take a good bath. Scrubbing your skin clean of everything that has to do with Noah Sebastian and his friends. Hoping that in the process you're able to scrub him from your mind as well.

As you push yourself off the door you closed a few minutes ago, you make your way over to the couch to make sure everything is in order and not one drop of blood was dropped on it. You notice that your notepad you have on your side table is open and your pen has been thrown on top of it.

Deciding to inspect it further, you see a number written on it and a note right under that said "in case you need me, don't hesitate to call. Noah". You stare at the note for a good three minutes. Deciding you don't need anymore of this tonight, you rip the paper from the notepad and slip it in the side pocket of your work bag.

You know. Just in case you actually need it.

It was supposed to be an uneventful night. Until Ava told you that one of the girls came down with the flu and she really needed you to work the tables and entertain the patrons. You usually wouldn't do this, deciding that this aspect of your job was behind you a while ago. But you really couldn't take anymore of her begging.

Looking around the room, you noticed that it wasn't so crowded. People were scattered around the bar and tables, and the section you were supposed to cover only had a few people. Walking around, you waited for someone to flag you down to either request a drink, or ask you to sit down and make them some company.

You passed by a table with with around five or six people, when you heard a man calling for you.

"Hey, beautiful. Why don't you grab a drink for me and one for yourself and join us?" You looked at him, he had brown eyes and soft curls on his head.

"Of course, honey. What would you like?" You put on your nicest face and voice. Part of this was working their ego to the max, pretending that you were actually interested in whatever they wanted to offer you for the time.

"I'll take an old fashioned", you told him you would be back in a minute with both of your drinks. You sauntered your way to the bar and you could feel his eyes on you.

You decided to grab yourself a mimosa, not intending on getting drunk on the job, and you still had to drive home. You went back with the drinks, noticing there was a space for you to sit down, so that is what you did.

The curly haired man kept his arm around your shoulder, and as they conversed, you pretended to be interested in something else. They always wanted company, but they didn't want anyone meddling in their bussiness. You knew the kind of patrons that attended the club, meeting Noah was an example of that.

You couldn't help but tune into their conversation while you sipped on your drink.

"I swear they're fucking pissing me off, man. I almost had one of them last night, but I couldn't get a good shot at him", said one of them, he was wearing a cap on his head, but you could tell he was bald. This caught your attention, but they couldn't be talking about what you were thinking.

"We gotta have patience. Pretty boy is gonna have what he deserves in due time", the man beside you said.

"What we have in store for them is going to shock everyone", they collectively laughed, but you kept your composure.

"And after that, Noah Sebastian is just going to be an afterthought in the city of New York". You were trying really hard not to let the shake in your hands show, that is why you decided to set your drink on the table. You mulled over his words, a million thoughts running through your head.

The hand that was on your shoulder moved down to circle around your waist. You were hoping that they would be done soon, otherwise he would notice how cold and sweaty your hands were. Thoughts of this man hurting (or killing, you know that is what they were implying) Noah, completely frightened you. At this point you really couldn't deny you cared for him to some level.

The man tapped your waist twice, a sign that you were free to go. As you were standing up, you grabbed your drink, turning around to face them and saying "it was really nice meeting you, gentleman. I'm sure I'll see you around". You made sure to commit their faces to memory, since you didn't have any names.

"The pleasure was all ours, beautiful".

You made an enormous effort to smile, turning around and leaving. You whispered to one fo your friends that you needed to go to the bathroom, asking her if she could cover your tables. You tried to walk on a normal pace, but as soon as got to the back and into the dressing rooms, you ran to your bag, grabbing the note you slipped there the night prior.

As you looked at it, you weighted your options. You could tell him about this other men's plans, or you could leave him in the dark, risking his and his friend's lives. You decided to text him a simple message.

I'm sure you know who this is, I guess you already have my number. I need you to come to the club at 9pm and meet me in the same room as last time. I'll tell them you're coming.

You waited a couple of seconds, and his response came through.

I'll be there. Is everything alright?

You appreciated his concern. But it wasn't you he should be concerned about.

For now, yes.

After this, you put your phone and paper back inside your bag. You found Ava and told her you had a really important client booked for 9pm, and she told you she would have one of the girls cover you.

As you went back to the main room, you noticed that the men from earlier were already gone. Looking at your watch you saw you had one hour until Noah was supposed to be here. You just hoped you weren't too late.

Tag list: @concreteangel92 @darling-millicent-aubrey @mostlypanicking @thisbicc @rebelheart90 @moranastray @xmads-omensx @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @lma1986 @skyemanzsstuff @theroyaldixon @mindlesssweets @dravenskye

If you want to be tagged on the next parts, please let me know!

Dividers: @cafekitsune

[am3ricanh0rrorwh0re]

Scar Tissue ☆

cooper day x fem!reader

summary: you were hanging out with your best friend Cooper when he discovered your biggest secret you’ve been hiding from him.

warnings: mostly sfw (aside from triggering stuff), s/h scars, talks of medication, depression

(i cant write fluff for the life of me, so this might be a little shorter than usual)

You and Cooper had been best friends since the first grade. You knew everything about him, and he knew almost everything about you. Except your 2 day old self harm scars. this was the only time you’d done it, when a jock asked you out, just to make fun of you and leave you at a Whataburger at 1:30 in the morning.

Cooper was writing about his oncoming ‘liberation’ from his family. He sat at his desk, typing on his silver, sticker-covered laptop. He mumbled under his breath, his words incoherent as you laid on his bed, listening to Death Cab For Cutie on your ipod. Cooper groaned, slamming his laptop shut.

“Shit, Cooper!” You jumped, ripping out your earbuds. Cooper looks back at you sighing.

“Sorry,” He mumbled, laying down next to you. You smile at him, and he smiled back weakly. Cooper never worried, he was very laid back, very introverted. But the moment you reached over him to grab something, it’s like his whole world stopped.

Cooper grabbed your arm, pulling up your sleeve. Before you could protest, Cooper inspected your arm nervously, his eyes darting all around it.

“Did you-?” He asked softly, looking you in the eyes.

“Why do you care?” You sniffle, holding back tears as you try to take back control of your arm.

“Because i want to see how many times i wasn’t there when you needed me,” Cooper stated in his averagely monotone voice. but for some reason, it had a hint of emotion…guilt? sadness…? You try to shrug it off, but Cooper won’t let you. You thought he’d continue to push the subject further and further, but what he did was really unexpected for him.

He hugged you. Cooper hugged you.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against his chest. He did seem a little bit uncomfortable since his breathing was a little shaky, but he still held you. He grabbed your arm gently, running his thumb over the scars.

“They’ll heal,” He said softly still studying them as he held you. You just looked up at the ceiling. You knew they’d heal, but…something about Cooper touching them made them hurt less.

Something about Cooper touching you made your world hurt less.

@dangeroustaintedflawed @newwavesylviaplath @slutforgarlogan @cult-of-lambs @nickrhodeslittledarling

[lostinthewiind]

Be Still, My Beating Heart

Varric Tethras - Dragon Age

Genre: Fluff + Smut

Rating: 18+

➤ 10 years after the Inquisition's victory against Corypheus, Varric is older, wiser, and greyer—and you're still as in love with him as you were 10 years ago.

Lately, it could be hard to recognize the passage of time. 10 years ago, a hole was ripped in the veil and threatened to end life as you knew it. Now, a hole has been ripped in the veil, threatening to end life as you know it. Cassandra had once rattled off some quote about those who didn't learn from history being doomed to repeat it.

That certainly fit.

In the grand scheme of things, life hadn't seemed to have changed much in the past 10 years. When he stepped into the room, however, the passage of time hit you like a ton of bricks. His once shorter, red hair was much longer and greyer now. His five-O'clock shadow was now a neatly trimmed, salt and pepper beard. There were two scars slicing through his right eyebrow. But most noticeable of all, his eyes had lost some of their light.

This was not the same Varric you had parted ways with 10 years ago, and yet your heart thrummed steadily against your ribcage just the same when you locked eyes.

"Maker, you're just as beautiful as the day I last laid eyes on you." Varric's voice was rough but quiet in your ear as you trailed kisses up and down his neck, arms draped loosely over his shoulders.

That morning, Solas was on a mission it tear down the veil. Tomorrow, Solas would still be on a mission to tear down the veil. But for that evening—for a measly 8 or so hours—it was just you and Varric, locked away in a shabby room in some inn, catching up on lost time.

You hummed softly before sitting back in Varric's lap, fingertips lightly ghosting over his exposed chest. "We have to stop meeting like this." You slid your hands up his chest and neck slowly until you were cupping his face. "The end of the world does not a romantic time make."

"After this, I'm done. I'm done saving the world," Varric said. He waited for you to lean down and kiss him once before continuing. "Once we deal with Solas, we're turning tail and finding somewhere quiet and peaceful."

You smiled softly. "And who is this 'we'?"

"You and me, doll. Who else?"

Your eyes flickered over to the corner of the room, where Varric's crossbow was resting against the wall. Varric let out a warm laugh.

"I'm smart enough to know when I'm the other woman." You adjusted your hips and felt Varric harden beneath you. An involuntary gasp passed through your lips as Varric sucked in a sharp breath.

"There's no 'other woman'." Varric gripped your hips hard and pressed himself up into you again, eliciting the same reaction from you both. "It's just you. It's always been just you."

You chuckled as you pressed you lips to Varric's, the kiss quickly deepening into something more hungry and needy. "You really expect me to believe there's been no one else in 10 years?" you whispered into his mouth.

Varric's warm tongue licked along your bottom lip before catching it between his teeth. "Doll, you know I like to talk a big game, so what I'm about to say next should prove to you I'm telling the truth." He buried his face in your neck and began sucking on the sensitive flesh there. All the while, his hips bucked upwards to meet yours, desperately seeking friction. "All we've done is make out a little and grind like teenagers and I'm seconds away from cumming. Trust me when I say, there's been no one else."

"Seconds away?" You gave an experimental roll on your hips. "Really?"

Varric let out a strained groan. "Fuck, doll, I'm serious. Don't-" His words were suddenly cut off by a choked grunt, and as his hips thrust upward, he bit down hard on your shoulder. "Fuck," he panted as he kissed the spot where he had left bitemarks in your skin. "Fuck, I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

You, on the other hand, were the opposite of sorry. "Don't apologize," you told him. That warmth from your core had spread like wildfire to your entire being. "That was hot."

Varric chuckled under his breath. "I appreciate you trying to make me feel better, but there's nothing hot about an old man's premature ... ending."

"Varric." You grabbed his hand and stuffed it down your pants, guiding his fingers over your soaked underwear. "That was really fucking hot."

Varric's eyes widened when he realized you weren't just trying to staunch the bleeding of his ego. "Oh, you weren't kidding. This is because of me?"

You nodded, unable to form words as his fingers prodded at your aching clit. When Varric's sheepish smile turned to a devilish smirk, you knew you were in trouble.

"I'm the luckiest man in all of Thedas." Varric pushed your underwear to the side and gathered some of the wetness on his fingers before pushing inside you. "And tonight I'm going show you just how grateful I am for that."

You threw your head back at the sudden but pleasurable intrusion. Cursing under your breath, you began to gently lift yourself up and down on Varric's thick fingers. The angle was slightly awkward due to still being seated in his lap, but no amount of discomfort could ever possibly overcome the ecstasy you were enveloped in.

"Varric," you moaned.

Oh, how he had longed to hear his name drip from your lips like honey again. There were many times where he had sworn that if he could just spend one last night with you, he could die a happy man. Now that he had you though, dying was the last thing he intended to do—not when he had just gotten you back.

You weren't sure when you had closed your eyes, but when you opened them again, Varric was staring up at you with a level of adoration you had never seen before. Finally, the light in his eyes had returned.

Calloused thumb moving to circle your clit, he smiled wide—a smile of pure, unabashed joy. "I can't believe you're really here. You're here and you're mine again." He pressed harder, the look in his eyes screaming for you to come undone for him. "I missed you every second of every day."

That tight coil inside you that had sat neglected for a decade had finally been brought back to life, and now it was ready to snap. "Varric." You planted your hands on his chest and pushed, trying to prevent the inevitable. "I'm gonna ... stop, please. You're gonna make me-"

"You're so breathtaking like this." Varric held you firmly in place, ignoring your pleas. "I could cum again just from watching you squirm and listening to you moan."

Sure enough, when you looked down, Varric was hard again. His erection was pressing firmly against the wet spot on his pants where he had already ejaculated.

You couldn't help but chuckle. "And there you were trying to make me feel sorry for you, old man."

"This is the effect you have on me," he said. "Now be a good girl and cum on my fingers so I can make love to you properly."

Thumb grinding hard into your clit, Varric's fingers curled tightly inside of you until you were seeing stars. Eyes rolled back, the muscles in your legs gave way as you climaxed and you sunk down all the way to the knuckles of Varric's hand.

After a few seconds, Varric pulled his hand out of your pants and gave your ass a gentle pat. "Up we go." He encouraged you to stand up on your wobbly legs and take your pants off. "Steady there."

As soon as you had disrobed from the waist down and Varric had pulled himself free from his pants, he hurriedly pulled you back down into his lap. Before moving any further, however, he decided to slow things down a bit.

"I want to savour this moment." His cock twitched against you and he pulled you closer for a kiss. "Maker, what I would give to stay in this shitty room with you for the rest of my life."

"Alas, someone has to save the world." You ran your fingers through his hair, tugging ever-so-slightly. "Again."

Varric hummed in agreement before pressing a kiss to the column of your throat. Deftly, his hands worked away at the buttons on your shirt. "I need to feel every inch of you pressed up against me," he explained as he helped you out of the rest of your clothes. Once his shirt was off as well and the two of you were completely nude, he pulled you flush against his chest and kissed you again.

Unable to deny yourself any longer, you began to fidget, slowly but surely lining Varric up with your entrance. Varric didn't stop you, and once his tip was prodding at that warm, wet hole he had dreamt about for a whole decade, he wasn't able to deny himself.

"Be gentle with me," he breathed into your mouth. "Slow and steady."

"Slow and steady," you repeated as you lowered yourself down inch by inch.

Varric's death grip on your thighs was enough for you to tell he was already dangerously close to finishing again. You had no room to judge though—not that you ever would—because you were teetering on that precipice just the same.

Once you had steadied yourself, you began to move. Immediately, Varric pushed you back down, nails digging into the soft flesh of your legs. "Not yet, doll," he hissed through gritted teeth. "Fuck, you feel so good. Too good. Maker spare me, you're too good for me."

"Please," you begged. That fire was raging inside of you once more, yearning to be extinguished. "Just a little. I promise I'll go slow."

"I don't want it to end. Not yet." His hands moved to cup your ass. Maintaining complete control, he guided your every movement. The feeling of his cock dragging along your walls caused you both to moan, one of euphoria and one of desperation.

One single stroke had left you both panting, foreheads pressed together as the two of you worked to maintain your composure just a little longer. Eyes closed, you sighed happily when you felt Varric's lips against yours.

"I promise next time will be less pathetic." He smirked against your lips. "Next time I'll make love to you like you deserve."

You shook your head, unable to picture sex better than this. This was what you were sure everyone craved—what people waited their whole lives for and some never achieved. Every nerve in your body was electrified—every touch lingering and leaving you wanting more.

"No," you told him. With that, you began to ride him properly—fear of finishing too fast be damned. "This is perfect."

"Maker's breath!" he cried out. Realizing that you truly didn't care if it all ended just as fast as it had started, he met your enthusiasm halfway and helped you bounce up and down on him. When he came not long after, he came moaning your name.

You weren't far behind, and as your second orgasm ripped through you, you clung to Varric and pressed into him as hard as you could.

"I missed you too," you returned the sentiment after replaying the entire interaction over again in your head. The mixture of Varric's hand running up and down your back and the sweat cooling sent shivers through your body.

"Well, better or not, there will be a next time. And it won't be after a decade apart." He held you close and pressed soft, open-mouthed kisses to every inch of skin he could reach. "I'm not done with you yet—not now, not ever."

[smellystars]

Trailblazing

Credit: @theleomarspt2

“He looks so perfect” I thought to myself as I looked at him

Sebastian and I have become incredibly close over the time I started working in the chemistry department. I was just an undergrad trying to get some experience under my belt and maybe make some money on the side. Sebastian, on the other hand, was a pretty well-rounded PhD student. He was making a good living with his research and teaching, and was pretty well liked within the faculty. And yet, somehow, he decided to ask me out. Of all people that fawned over him this confident stud decided to ask me if I would be down to go on a hike with him.

“how you feelin’?” He asked, the sweat making his biceps glisten.

“Good…” I said, the puffing in my breath betraying and showing how out of shape I truly am.

“Haha wanna rest for a bit?”

I sighed, threw my bag on the ground and proceeded to simply drop onto the floor. After catching my breath and taking a swig of water I took a second to look at the scenery. It was gorgeous, we were not too far from a small stream with a very slow flow.

“Hey, you want to see something cool?” Sebastian asks.

“Sure” I answered. Sebestian’s face lights up with glee as he starts to move towards the stream. Reaching the stream he squats, the water grazing his cheeks. “Ready” he asks with a smile. “Yea……” before I could even finish the word an ear ringing sound exploded from Sebastian.

PPPPPPPPPPHHHHHHHRRBBBBBBBTTTTTT

The once slowly moving stream began to fill with bubbles, Sebastian creating his own personal hot tub. Thou a bit away I could feel the vibration of his gas causing small pebbles and stones to jump around. I watched as the stream began to shrink slowly drying out with his minute long quake. The stream now nothing but a barren ditch, no water to be found.

“Did you see that? Impressive right?” Sebastian asked with a hearty smile. I stood up, amazed at what I had just witnessed. “Wow, I’ve never witnessed something like that.” I said. “How can such a hot guy rip ass that strong”, is all I thought to myself as I watch Sebastian flex in the dried stream. He takes a step out raises a leg and let’s rip another loud but shorter fart.

FFFFFFFRRRRRRPPTTT

“Sorry when the gate opens it’s hard to close.”

“Seb how is that possible?”

The proud smirk morphed into a puzzled face at first, but his confidence came back as he smiled.

“You got a superhuman boyfriend, promise I will keep you safe though” He said, with the charming deep voice I was so in love with.

We continued to walk for about 20 minutes, talking about the chemistry department and what each of us were doing in our program. As we walked, Sebastian was ripping burps and farts throughout but seemingly holding back. I am not sure if I should be thankful or not. On the one hand I am in love with how manly he is, his huge biceps, his dark beard, to have a man capable of such destruction was quite a dream when I think about it. And yet, in reality, it was intimidating to think that one fart from him was capable of dying up a creek. Would we be able to share a living space? What if one night he farted strongly enough it shattered the windows? What if nightly the bedsheets flew away from his farts? I guess I was lost in my thoughts and wandered ahead a little bit.

Fffffffffffffaaaaaaaauuuuuuurrrrrppppppppptttttttttt

A loud fart took me out of my trance. I turned to see Sebastian bending over few feet behind me. Though the I turned around within the first few seconds of the fart, Sebastian seemed to want to make it a point how strong he was as he let the fart rip for a little over forty seconds. As the fart went on the leaves behind him were blown, and the pungent smell, something akin to spoiled beans, seemed to envelope us, some birds even beginning to fly away to escape.

“Now don’t go leaving me behind again” He warned with a sweet smile, as he trotted to catch up to me.

He took my hand and said “Hey, I have a little surprise for you. There’s a clearing a bit off the path ahead, we are so close let’s go”.

We walked over about two hundred feet till we reached the clearing. He let go of my hand, threw his backpack on the ground and kneeled. He took a picnic blanket out of his backpack, a couple of beers and he sat down with his muscular legs extended.

“Come on” he said “the ground is comfy I promise”

I followed his lead and laid next to him, he passed me a beer. We started drinking and talking, he would start burping after every swing too, and I think he noticed how excited it got me cause they only started getting louder.

“So…. what’s the surprise?” I asked

“Two in one deal actually” And saying that, he raised his knee to his chest and winked.

PPBBBBPBRRRRBBBTT

“For one I wanna give you a little test you see” He said as his fart made the blanket flutter and the ground shake enough for me to feel it. He proceeds to lead to his left, his round ass facing me now.

BBRPBPBRRBAAPPRTT

“You see you caught my eye since I first saw you walk into the chem department” His fart was strong enough to push back my hair. The smell hit me instantly and I started coughing.

PPPBBPBPBPPB

“I mean look at you pretty boy, you got an angelic face and a cute slender body” Though shorter, this fart packed a punch, enough that it pushed me back a bit. I could also see a cloud of dust and leaves forming as the winds kicked them off the ground. I ended up lying face up, eyes closed at first, but when I opened them I saw Sebastian standing over me. He squats, crotch to bring his face close to mine, a grin drawing across his face.

PPMPMPRRTT

“And I know you like me too, have watched how you watch me” He said flexing. It felt as though I was laying right next to a radiator. “But pretty boys like you can’t handle dating a human with superfarts” He said “You though, you are holding just fine”.

FFPBRRHHTT

He let out one last fart before he stood back up and extended a hand out to me. Coughing, I took it and proceeded to stand up with shaking legs.

“Well you passed your surprise test, and with extra credit too” Said Sebastian as he pointed to my crotch, which betrayed me as it showed my excitement. “So it’s time for your second surprise”. He grabbed my hands into his and looked me in the eyes.

“Know you know what my farts can do….. You still want to go out with me?”

I took a deep breath, his still lingering gas burning my lungs. Through the coughing fit and red eyes I gave my answer.

“Yes. Your volume of gas will take some getting used to but why would I ever give up this opportunity.”

Sebastian brimming with joy, says on thing, “to commemorate this occasion I’ll show you something extra special.” He takes a few steps away and lays on his stomach arching his back, his butt aiming towards to sky.

“I don’t want any clouds, ruining our first pic together.” And with that the loudest and strongest fart I ever experienced erupted out of Sebastian. The trees closest to us bend either their leaves getting ripped off the branches blown in his foul winds. Animals the vacuity scattering from fear of being enveloped by the stink cloud. A force so strong that trees a mile sway from his winds. I look up to see the few clouds in the sky swirly break apart and dissipate into the atmosphere.

Sebastian gets up with a sigh of relief, “ahh, okay let’s take a picture.”

I walk towards him my eyes beginning watering, I steel myself accepting that this is going to be my life from now on. A smile forming on my face. I reach Sebastian and hug him taking a picture in-front of the clear sky.

“I couldn’t be happier”