#travis miles x reader

[falloutwithmegirlypop]

Request rules

Hi, FWMGP here. I’ve loved the fallout series since its debut, and I think it’s time I put my skills to work. I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to write everyone requests, but I’ll sure try. No Smut (for now) but slight spice is all good. Ageless blogs please leave, 17+ only.

Characters

✨My faves✨

Show

Chet 💛💙

Lucy 🥺🥺💙💛

Maximus ⚔️🛡️

Thaddeus 🤴

Norm 👾📀

Game

Travis miles (Love him) 🥺❤️❤️

Nick Valentine 🤖🕵️❤️

Preston Garvey 🤠

Piper 📝

Benny Gecko 🔪🔪🔫

🖐️other characters🖐️

Cooper Howard

The ghoul

The raiders

The brotherhood of steel

Moldaver

Siggi witzig

Steph

Barb

Handy

Potentially other characters( put in request)

Readers

Only x readers, but poly including reader is ok.

Any kind of reader, please put preference in ask, specifics are ok. Don’t be afraid to ask. I write MxM FxF MxF etc, but I’m best at Female and male as-well as female and female.

Rules

No gross stuff

No incest

No generally upsetting kinks

No under age

Absolutely no bestiality

Dub con in certain places is ok, but no non-con.

Current requests

In progress:

Fallout Max x reader

Next:

Chet x reader getting married

Chet fluff headcannons

Ghoul!Thaddeus x reader

Done:

Norm x unenthusiastic reader

Chet x fem reader

Please ignore any grammar mistakes, I have shaky hands.

[danses-with-dogmeat]

Day 6 -- Travis Miles

The (nsfw) details for Kinktober, Day 6 are just below the cut!

Minors, please don't interact.

Deep Throating with Travis x g/n! Sole/Reader

Just a note, this is with a Pre-Confident Man Travis! Just because he is superior that way fits the prompt better like that, I think. 🤷‍♂️ But AH, have I mentioned how much I love Travis? Oh, I have? Well, I'm here to say it again. I LOVE this man so dang much, he deserves everything <3

Here is the link to the Kinktober 2022 Event list so you can stay up-to-date, or re-visit these works as you please.

I hope y'all enjoy!

Includes: Deep throating, making out, dry humping, first times, blow jobs, first time blow jobs, cum swallowing, cum shot, pillow talk, Travis being awkward and adorable and Sole LOVING it

3.8k words.

--

His lips were still, tentative, but curious against yours, the hesitancy propelling you forwards in an act of compensation for his own uncertainty. You prodded at his lips with your tongue, grinning at the way his body tensed, the way his hand flexed from where it laid on your thigh. You pulled away slightly, testing, and Travis did just as you hoped, following the feel of your mouth as it nearly left him. 

Your hand brushed over his jaw, your lips relenting to his pursuit as your fingers grazed over the nape of his neck, the short, black hairs there tickling over your skin. Another asking prod of your tongue, and he relented, opening his mouth slowly to allow you to explore. A vibration ran through from him to you as he groaned some semblance of your name against you, his contact deepening at the feel of you, at the taste, at the overwhelming and unfamiliar sensation. 

Travis scooched closer to you on the couch, one knee bumping into yours as he laid a hand at your waist without any semblance of previous consideration. 

It made you smile against him. 

Travis’s thoughts, once moving faster within his mind than the Diamond City radio waves he sends hurtling through the Commonwealth, now slowed to a dense pace; no thought able to form completely before it was pushed aside by another. It was one of the first times in his life that Travis felt like he was acting on pure instinct. He was always so thoughtful, worrisome, to the point of crippling immobility, but now he could reflect your movement against him. It was easy. It was thrilling. 

It wasn’t nearly as frightening as he’d worried it’d be. 

It was the first time in a long time– maybe ever that he really felt… alive. Like he was living, instead of just existing. Just trying to survive. 

Your hand pulled his face closer to yours as you felt his lips knead against you, as you felt his tongue press to yours; and instead of pulling away, panicked, as you’d come to expect, he dragged the muscle against yours, coating your mouth in his taste, and your mind in arousal. 

You delighted in his exploration, in this confidence, whether it was purposeful on his part or not, and dared to press a little further. The couch creaked as you shifted, and Travis’s eyes peeped open to watch as you turned and brought one leg over him, straddling his lap while remaining pressed against him all at once. Both of his hands migrated to your hips, hungry to touch, but unwilling to grope as he kept the contact light against you. 

A slew of nonsensical expletives rattled around his head at your newfound closeness, a certain anxiety picking up where he’d thought it had begun to settle. It was hard to focus on, but there was something just… off. Something that he was worried about but unable to identify, something that had been pounding on the backdoor of his mind to get in, but that had been muffled and erased by the music you were making as you moved against him. 

In the next moment though, as you shifted forward in his lap, pressing closer to him, it all came crashing back into his mind. Travis pulled away as his heart leapt in his chest, his hands forcing you back– not off of him, but backwards to settle at the end of his thighs, just over his knees. 

Your features crinkled in bafflement, eyes blinking open in surprise at his sudden outburst. 

What happened? 

The fog slowly cleared from your mind, and Travis’s crimson face came into focus, his eyes wide with– 

Fear? 

“Travis?” You ventured quietly as he stared blankly downwards with wide eyes, his gaze settling on nothing you could see, some thought deep in his head. 

“I-I’m sorry.” He whispered. 

Your brows furrowed. 

“Sorry? What… What are you sorry for, baby?” 

“That wasn’t… I mean– I didn’t mean to. I wasn’t trying to make you–” His breaths kept cutting off his voice, and you flinched at the panic you could see flashing over his features. 

“Hey.” You said softly, one hand gently pressing to his chin, pulling his gaze up to meet yours. “I’m alright, Travis. Better than alright. I don’t even know what you’re apologizing for.”

His gaze flicked away again, his cheeks growing redder before your very eyes. 

“You… you, ah, you didn’t feel it?” 

You cocked your head, forcing your face into his line of sight. 

“I don’t think so, but… for arguments sake, you wanna tell me what I may or may not have felt?” 

“It…” He started, shaking his head before he could even get another word out. “It’s not really worth even mentioning. At all. It’s just… It’s disrespectful. It’s not– I mean, I just don’t want to insult you. Or anything.” 

Disrespectful? What? His tongue in my mouth? His hands on my waist? Hell, I did all of that first, should I be the one apologizing? 

“I didn’t see it as insulting. Or disrespectful. In fact, I… I like it. A lot.” You chuckled, feeling a heat of your own touch your cheeks. “I thought you did too.” 

“I-I did!” His head snapped up, eyes meeting yours of his own accord this time, “I did. Do. I really– I liked it. I just… So, ah, so you’re not… um, mad?” 

You broke into a grin, shaking your head. 

“Not in the slightest. I like you, remember? A lot.” You pressed forward, catching his cheek beneath your lips in a swift kiss. “And… I want to keep, um, liking you a little more tonight. If you want that too.” 

Travis’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, his ears burning, but he nodded to you quickly. 

“Y-yes. I, ah, I think I would like that.” 

You laughed, even as you pressed your lips to his again, your hands returning to wrap around the back of his neck as you shifted forward in his lap, to get as close as you tried to before he’d pushed you away. 

Travis’s breath caught in his throat as his hands tightened against you, but he met your fervor as though he hadn’t just been overwhelmed by it. 

If that’s even what happened. You thought, still hung up on his apology. I’m not even sure I know what–

You squeaked involuntarily as you felt him groan into your mouth at the new contact. Just as you scooted forward to press your sternum to his, you felt it. 

Ah. That must have been it.

A hardened bulge pressed into your thigh through the thick fabric of his jeans, and suddenly the apology made sense. In regards to Travis, anyway. In your eyes though, this really wasn’t something he should be apologizing for. 

You carried on as though you’d expected to feel it, your fingers grasping at the back of his head, pulling him closer into your heated contact, and even took it a step further, grinding your hips subtly against him to try and bring his growing erection a bit of relief. 

Travis gasped from under you, his hands reaching of their own accord to grasp at the small of your back, pressing you firmly to him, holding you close, and helping you to grind over his hardon. 

You obliged him, winding your hips in a motion that left your partner breathless as his mouth pressed to yours more firmly than he’d meant to. 

“S-sole.” He moaned against you, into you, and you felt yourself shudder at the sound. 

That. You thought. I need more of that. 

“Baby.” You tried to get his attention, tried to pull away to ask your question, to plead your case, but Travis’s lips followed suit, groaning into you, and you felt his hips roll to meet your contact, pressing his erection harder into your center with every needy buck against you. 

“Travis, baby.” You tried again, the need building up in your core with each hot breath spilled over you, each grind of him against you, with the way he opened his eyes and his pupils were twice the proper size. 

He didn’t speak, maybe he couldn’t, but he made a questioning noise as his eyes blinked at you curiously. 

“I wanna try something. I want more of you.” You practically growled out the last of it.

Even through the thickness of his jeans, you could feel the way your words made him throb. 

“O-okay.” He managed to breathe out. 

You smiled at him, licking your lips unwittingly as you pressed forward to give him a quick kiss. 

His hands followed you as you rose up, stepping off of his lap. He leaned forward, his expression uncertain as he tried to puzzle through your next move in his hazy state of mind. 

“Just… try and relax for me, alright?” You said as your fingers brushed the hem of your shirt. He nodded to you, despite his clear uncertainty, even as you pulled your top off over your head. 

Travis’s eyes widened, and he quickly looked away, down at his feet. 

Your eyebrows creased together at his action. 

“Hey.” You knelt down so you could be face-to-face with him, laying one hand gently on his knee. “I want you to see me like this, or I wouldn’t have taken it off. It’s not disrespectful, or wrong, okay?”

Travis nodded, and slowly, his eyes made their way to your face, grazing up over your bare chest quickly, as though he were still in need of your permission to look. 

He took a deep breath. 

“A-alright. ‘M sorry.” He whispered the last bit, and you felt your chest ache. 

“You don’t have to apologize. This is all new. We’re just figuring it out together.” You kissed him again, and he kissed right back without the hesitation that had always been present before. It may be slow going, it may be different and unprecedented, but progress was being made. Comfortability and trust were being established, and his earnestness, his honesty and good intentions… fuck, if that all didn’t make you want to be with him even more.  

Your hands pushed at his knees as you pulled your mouth from him, encouraging him to spread his legs so you could settle between them, and though he looked uncertain, he yielded to the pressure of your hands against him. 

“If you get uncomfortable at all, just tell me and I’ll stop, okay?” You looked up at him as your fingertips dragged further up his thighs. 

Travis nodded, his hands shaking as he placed them on either side of his legs on the couch. But he gave you a definite nod. 

“If not though, just try and relax. Just enjoy.” 

Your fingers met at the button of his jeans, popping it open slowly and taking your time dragging down the zipper. 

“I’m happy to be doing this. I want this, okay? So try and not be too concerned about me.” 

A bead of sweat trailed down the side of his face, but he nodded to you again; all he seemed to be capable of doing in his current state. 

You smiled as you pulled at his jeans, your hands moving to the hem of them to try and bring them further down his legs to pile on the floor. 

Travis swallowed hard, his eyes wide through the whole ordeal, and you swore you could feel his rapid, pounding heartbeat, even through the skin of his hips. 

His breath caught in his throat as you moved to pull his boxers down as well, his fingers clenching over the couch until they turned bone-white. 

“You okay, honey?” Your thumb stroked soothingly over his hip bone.

“Yeah. Yeah… I-I think I am. It’s just, well, just that no one– this is the first time, um… I’ve never done this before.” He finally admitted, the words leaving his tongue like he was spitting out poison. Poison he wished, with everything in him, that he could swallow down. 

You smiled at him, your thumb continuing its miniscule movements over his heated skin. 

“That’s okay.” You assured him, “It doesn’t change how much I want you.” 

He bit his lip thoughtfully, but his shoulders seemed to relax a bit at that. 

“But if you feel like you’re not ready, we can wait. I’m happy to do that too, if it’s what you want.”

“I…” He started, but a frown stole the words from him as his lip trembled from the wave of emotion you inspired. 

“I really like you, Sole.” His hand touched yours, still trembling, but certain in this movement he made towards you. “And… I think I– yeah, I, ah, I want to keep going.” 

Your hand grasped his and brought it to your lips briefly as you smiled up at him. 

“I really like you too, baby.” You told him, placing his hand back on the couch and returning yours to the hem of his underwear. You pulled the garment down slowly, helping to ease the tight hem over his erection as it sprang up to bump at his stomach. The darkened head of him was already glistening with pre-cum, and you found yourself licking your lips again at the thought of tasting him for the first time. At him feeling you for the first time. 

Despite the crimson absolutely overtaking his every feature, Travis lifted his hips and allowed you to pull down his jeans and underwear until they pooled around his ankles. Your hands smoothed over his thighs, spreading him a little further as you ducked your head towards him. Eyes glued to his, even as you could feel him trying not to break the contact, you leaned your face towards him, pressing one delicate kiss to the underside of his shaft. 

Travis’s body shook at the feel of another’s lips pressed to him. To that part of him.

Your lips. He reminded himself. 

He hated to admit it, but your lips had been the object of numerous fantasies of his, the thoughts always coming to his mind on those nights he felt frustrated enough to lay a hand over himself and stroke until he was biting back the sound of your name. It wasn’t something he was proud of, but it’s still something he did. 

But he didn’t want to think about that now. He didn’t have to. He wasn’t thinking about it now, he was living it, and you… You seemed to be loving it as much as he was. 

Travis breathed hard as you continued pressing kisses over his erection, fighting the urge to thrust his hips forward into the overwhelming contact. The softness of your lips was amplified against his sensitive skin, and when you swiped your tongue over the head of his cock, he nearly shouted at the feeling. It felt like lightning, like when he was shocked by a wire while making repairs to his radio, sending a white-hot surge up through his spine. 

“Mm,” Your lips rumbled against him as you hummed, “Let me hear you, baby.” 

You licked him again, this time starting at the base and dragging your tongue all the way back up to his tip, and he couldn’t help but groan at the heat of it, at the wetness, at the chill of the air surrounding you both, in comparison to your searing tongue. The feeling of it, the sight of you, shirtless and kneeling between his thighs, the touch of your hands as one rested on his thigh, while the other moved to guide his cock towards your open lips, he could’ve busted there and then. 

Travis closed his eyes tightly, his stomach flexing at the new contact you were introducing. Your mouth wrapped around the head of his cock, suckling slightly, before pushing down to ease the majority of his length inside your warm, inviting mouth. 

“Ahh.” He groaned, breathless. 

“O-oh. Sole, I-I..” His panting breaths interrupted him, and as you pulled your mouth back, sucking hard as you went until only the sensitive tip of him remained, he couldn’t seem to remember what he was going to say. 

You grinned at the sound of your name on his tongue, breathless and needy, music to your ears that was catchier than any song he played on his station. You knew that sound would be repeating in your head like a mantra for hours to come. 

You felt his cock pulse against your tongue as you attentively sucked at his head, slotting your tongue over his slit just in time to catch the bead of salty pre-cum that spilled from him. Travis groaned again, his hips bucking mutedly as he tried to hold back from shoving his length down your throat. 

Not that you would mind that. 

With the thought effectively inspired in your head, you descended on him again, taking his length as far into your mouth as you could, and staying there as you heard a moan drag from his lips. 

Travis was a mess under your attentions. Sweat dripped from him, his hands trembled, his voice was growing weak from use, every vein felt like it was on fire, and the pressure, oh, the pressure that was building up in his painfully hard cock was unbearable. 

“S-sole. I don’t– I’m gonna…” He grunted, and you felt his cock hit the back of your throat as his hips canted against you. “I’m not, ah, I don’t think I’m gonna last.” 

He managed to force the words out, even as you gagged from the pressure of his tip bumping the back of your throat. 

Honey, I could’ve told you that. You thought, all that could be achieved of a grin spreading across your full, parted lips. 

You hummed against him, hearing him stutter again at the vibrating stimulation, and pulled your head back, before plunging forward again. You bobbed your head over him quickly, determined to feel that throb within the confines of your mouth, to taste him against your tongue. Another gag was pulled from your throat as you pressed forward all the way again, settling as your tongue swiped over him and tears collected in your eyes. You pulled back only to take in air through your nostrils, your lips gripping hard at the skin of his shaft before you pushed forward again, until your nose pressed to his pelvic bone. 

Travis’s stomach shook as it clenched, and you felt another throb pulse against your tongue and throat. You pulled away one final time before pressing forward hard, swallowing through your tears around his length until he cried out, and you felt warmth spurt down your throat. 

You sucked at him greedily as you pulled back just enough to feel his cock throbbing on your tongue, coating the inside of your mouth with his cum. Not a blissful moment later, and you felt hands at your shoulders, pushing you back and off of his cock. Your eyes blinked open in surprise, noting the panic in your partner’s expression just before feeling a burst of cum land on your cheek. Unwittingly, you flinched at the feeling, and you heard Travis yelp as he watched it happen. 

He opened his mouth to speak, his hand grasped around his still-pulsing cock as he rode out the final moments of his release, pointing it down and spurting what was left onto the floor between your bodies. 

“S-sole, I–” 

You laughed at him, a grin breaking through your surprise as you wiped the glob of his cum from your face with your fingers. 

Travis was panting, mouth still open as if to speak as he looked at you with shock in his eyes. 

“A-are you– How? How can you be o-okay with this? I just–”

“I know,” You managed between feverish breaths, chest heaving with uncontained laughter. “I know, no, you should’ve just left–” You were cut off by another bout of giggles at the look Travis was giving you. 

He didn’t understand, he… He felt like you should be angry with him, but he wasn’t entirely sure why. 

“It’s fine, Travis. These things happen sometimes, it’s okay.” You put a hand on his thigh, stroking over it as you brought the fingers of your other hand, the one that still had a bit of his milky release on its fingers, to your mouth, cleaning them off slowly as you held your partner’s gaze. 

Travis’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. 

“Y-you just…” He shook his head. 

“What?” You asked, holding back another chuckle. “Baby, I just had your whole cock in my mouth. You think I’d be bothered by a bit of cum? That’d be like being mad about finding water in a canteen.” 

You clambered up to sit beside him on the couch as he worked on pulling his pants back up to his waist. 

“I guess, yeah. That makes sense. I just… I’m s–”

“Please don’t apologize to me again.” You rested your head against his shoulder as Travis leaned back on the couch, his anxiety finally expelled enough for him to relax against you. 

“Okay.” 

You smiled at that, basking in the contented quiet that surrounded you both as you wrapped your arms around his waist, and his head fell to lean on yours. 

“So… um,” You bit your lip, wondering if the question was a little presumptuous. You decided to ask it anyway. 

“How was your first time?” 

You felt his head shake against yours. 

“I… um, don’t know that I can describe it…” 

Your brows furrowed a bit at that. 

“But it… was incredible. So much better than I’ve ever, ah, imagined, and you… You were just amazing. Better than I’ve ever…” 

He cut himself off, heat rising to his ears at what he was just about to admit. 

“Hmm.” You hummed, arms tightening around him. “I’m glad, baby.” 

You paused. Is it a good idea to draw attention to something he’s clearly embarrassed about? You struggled with it for a moment, but thought about what you would want in his situation. 

He deserves to know. 

“And…” you continued, “You were better, too. Better than I ever imagined you would be.” 

Travis’s heart raced in his chest at your admission, but he warmed all the same. 

“I… I wanna do something for you. Next time. When you’re ready. If you want.” 

He felt your lips spread against his shoulder in a grin. 

“I’d like that.” You pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “Next time for sure. For now though… I just want to be close to you.” 

Travis nodded at that, his heart full at the feel of you beside him, the admission that you wanted him, just as he wanted you. 

I really like them…  his mind said again, even as he felt himself begin to doze off against you.

[the-deputy-sole-survivor]

So we can keep men as pets now........

I love it😁

(I still rather have Hancock or valentine following me though)

[imagine-silk]

Could you do the Fallout 4 guys on how they would propose to sole survivor, (maybe how they got/scrapped together a ring) and maybe what their ideal marriage ceremony might look like? Where would they have it? Lavish or humble? Big crowd or totally private?

》Aww, that's sweet.

【Deacon】 Uses the casual honor system.

He's been married and did all the fancy stuff before and he knows you have too. How did that work out for the two of you? He's content to just have whatever it is between you two forever but at a certain point he knows you won't, or at least he thinks. One day he just starts calling you his wife/husband. When you inevitably have a talk about it you just 'get married'. No ring, no vows, no wedding. Who's gonna tell you you're not married? Literally no one.

【Hancock】 Proposes to you in front of the entire town.

Hancock is known for a lot of things and subtly is not one of them. He asks you to stand on the balcony while he runs out. Five minutes later he's on the ground shouting as loud as he can about how much he loves you and how much you belong together. A crowd gathers very quickly to watch his proposal.

【MacCready】 Propose quietly.

In a private moment he offers you the box and asks you. No pressure and if you feel like that's not where your relationship is at he'll put it away. He rushed a marriage once so he knows waiting is not the end of the world.

【Nick】 Gets on one knee.

He knows this rodeo. He sets up dinner and candles. You know somethings up because he can't eat and he doesn't like candles, says the fire is a hazard. For dessert he puts a little box in front of you and gets on one knee.

【Sturges】 Gets on both knees to propose because he thinks it's more respectful.

It's 200 years into the apocalypse, not all traditions survive and when they do they don't survive fully intact. He thinks of getting on one knee is out of respect and there is no one in the Commonwealth he'd rather get on his knees for.

【Travis Miles】 Gets on both knees to propose because he thinks it's more committal.

He knows it's one knee but he thinks the reason you're supposed to get on one knee is to offer yourself so he wanted to offer himself completely... by getting on his knees. He realizes what you must see looking at him but it wouldn't be much of a commitment if he got up so he powers through.

【X6-88】 This man is not going to propose to you unless you tell him to.

Like with many things he doesn't see the point. You're together already, why would you get more together? That being said, he has done and will do anything for you so he keeps this information to himself, especially when you ask him to propose to you. Whatever you ask for he'll do. You want it to be a surprise? In a crowd? You want to do it now? Ask and he'll give.

[typhoons-mess]

♡Character Masterlist♡

Welcome to my masterlist for all the characters I write for! My inbox is always open to requests but please do understand I work full time, and I do this for fun!

If you have any questions about what I will or will not write, please go check out my rules.

Rules

My inbox is always open for requests, so if you have any ideas, please let me know!

Avatar

•Navi Miles Quaritch •Human Miles Quaritch

Arcane

•Silco •Jayce Talis •Victor

Baldur’s Gate

•Astarion •Halsin

Beetlejuice

•Betelgeuse •Beetlejuice [Musical]

Don’t Breathe

•Norman Nordstrom

Gotham

•Jerome Valeska •Jeremiah Valeska

How To Train Your Dragon

•Dagur

Kill The Justice League

•Captain Boomerang

Marvel

•Loki Laufeyson

The Boys

•Homelander •Billy Butcher

The Quarry

•Jacob •Dylan •Nick •Travis Hackett

Twilight

•Jacob Black

[gutsby]

Cowboy Killers

Pairing: Cowboy!Joel x Reader

Summary: On a mission to find—and fight—your best friend’s lying, cheating boyfriend at the bar, you end up throwing your drink in the wrong face and landing in a sticky situation with Joel Miller, who never plays fair.

Warnings: 18+. Drunk-Assholes-to-Enemies-to-Lovers. Oral (m!receiving). Road head. Age gap. Daddy kink.

Note: My favorite sub-genre of country music is ‘I’m Gonna Fucking Kill My Husband,’ and I think Miranda Lambert’s ‘Gunpowder & Lead’ is a perfect representation of that.

Word count: 4.1k

Forgive and forget.

Forgive and forget.

Forgive and—

“I’m about to lay this motherfucker out,” you announced.

Across the line, your friend laughed.

“Yeah? You see him?”

Of course you saw him. Who else would be wearing a Carhartt flannel and jeans in ninety-four degree heat? Not a soul in this world but your friend’s own lying, piece of shit, hopefully-soon-to-be-ex boyfriend, you guessed.

The game that Old Fuckstick Miller had decided to play tonight was a dangerous one—he was dumb as shit, and you were drunker than a skunk. He was dating your best friend, and she was not present at the Tipsy Bison to see the barefaced clusterfuck taking place before you now.

She was home, over thirty minutes away. He had told her that morning he would be working late, and not to wait up. You were here, at the bar, approaching one A.M. with a Redbull Vodka clenched in either fist and a Texas-sized frown on your face, seeing the very same man with his hands all over a woman that wasn’t your friend. You’d wanted to puke as soon as you saw them. You knew you could never trust a man who claimed to be an Austin native and couldn’t name a single George Strait song.

Your friend had only been dating the guy for a month, and you’d just seen his face in pictures up until now, but from what you could see less than twenty feet in front of you—slightly blurred from all the drinks you’d had—this guy was him. A dick. There, cheating on your best friend.

And no man would get to do that and walk out unscathed if you had anything to say about it.

Your grip tightened on either one of your fizzy drinks and, barely managing to cradle the phone between your head and your shoulder, you gestured over to another friend.

“Dave. Take it,” you said, words slurring a little.

Dave York cocked an eyebrow but said nothing as you passed him one of your RBVs and shimmied off the barstool. By the time he was able to pose his question, your ass, your phone, and your one remaining drink were already wobbling the other way. Vaguely, you heard him:

“Where ya headed, hon?”

You turned and raised your drink, then seriously doubted he would be able to hear you over the blare of the music, but yelled back anyway, ‘I’M GONNA KILL SOMEONE!’

The age-old pro-forgiveness aphorism continued to thump in your brain as you made your way over and began to contemplate every feasible method of murder.

A gun in the face would’ve been too simple—and besides, you’d never owned or shot a firearm in your life.

Poison could be fun, but from the way you were approaching the man now, you seriously doubted he’d ever let you get within a mile of his drink. You nudged the phone closer to your ear and took a sip from your own.

“Closing in,” you told your friend simply.

She’d already given you the go-ahead to execute the confrontation and beat his ass any way you pleased after the fact. Now it wasn’t so much a matter of ‘if’ but ‘when’ you’d finally get to encroach on this little loved up scene at the other end of the bar. The man had had his back turned to you, and the stunning redhead hanging off his neck, likewise, had no idea what was coming. You smiled.

“Promise you won’t go to jail this time?” your friend said.

“Will you bail me out again if I do?” Your grin got bigger.

“Well, duh.”

“Good deal. I’ll be the shitfaced inmate with ‘Fuck Men’ tattooed on her forehead. Wait for Travis County to call.”

“I love you, psycho.”

“Love you more.”

You ended the call.

And you were fully ready to end this man’s life when you saw him lean in to kiss the woman’s neck—that was sick.

You weren’t thinking straight. You weren’t seeing straight

You yelled out, ‘He-e-e-ey, honey!’ without blinking.

The couple turned.

As soon as the man had done a full 180, you flung your drink in his face and made sure the cup struck his nose.

“You cheatin’ FUCK!”

He flinched, sprayed by your vodka-infused energy juice.

The music overhead was loud, but not so deafening as to prevent the bar from hearing your shriek. From the front of the room, a band was playing ‘Gunpowder & Lead,’ and you couldn’t help but feel the song had been fate.

“What the f—” the adulterer started, evidently stunned.

You knocked the Shiner Bock out of his hand and spat:

“Working late, are we?!”

And spilled another patron’s beer reeling back.

“Got a little caught up on the way home?”

Gesturing toward the green-eyed beauty to his left. At first, the girl fixed her stare on you as if you’d sprouted another head, but then, by turns, she was tilting it to him.

“You have a girlfriend?” she hissed.

Cheater McFuckstick was wiping his beard with his hand

Shaking his head.

“Hell no, I ain’t never—”

“LIAR!”

Channeling your inner Representative Wilson circa 2009, you let your mouth fall open and stared at the big, burly man like the Congressman had once done to President Obama all those years ago. The semi-stranger in front of you was far less composed than his political counterpart.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” he snapped.

You felt your cheeks heat up.

“Is she your girlfriend?” would-be mistress said, shrill.

“NO!” you and been-knew asshole yelled together.

You saw the man’s nostrils flare, and at the same time, the woman beside him departed. Quickly. A few people around you cleared the way, while others still stared, gawked, and murmured amongst themselves. The Miranda Lambert cover band continued on without a hitch, though you could tell there had been a stir in the crowd. They probably thought the worst of it was over.

They thought wrong.

“You’re a dick,” you seethed, unrelenting.

You almost expected the man to turn and leave.

You thought wrong.

“You’re a cunt.”

And the man chucked a stray whiskey sour in your face.

The $15 spirits splattered on your skin like the meanest insult of all. His aim was better. Though he didn’t let go of the cup, as you had with him, he did make sure to coat the whole of your twisted look with the liquor, and once it landed, he had had the nerve to do something else, too.

He brought the glass to his lips then drank what was left.

“How’s it feel?” he sneered.

You stood in wet, sticky silence for half a second; arguably, you’d earned that cocktail to the face.

On the other hand, who the fuck did he think he was?

You grabbed a random can of Keystone Light and flung it at his chest to give him a hint—and catch him off-guard.

“You’re a bitch, Tommy Miller!”

“Wh—”

“Maria’s my best friend, you absolute f—”

“What—”

“—and you cheated on her for what? All so she—”

“What did you just call me?!”

“A BITCH!”

“No, the NAME!”

“TOMMY MILLER!”

“I’M JOEL!”

Oh.

Oh.

You and Joel were shortly escorted out of the bar.

Joel’s name, and a trace of bourbon, were still fresh on your tongue when you found yourself stranded in the middle of the Tipsy Bison parking lot two minutes later. You leaned into a car beside you and held your stomach.

“Someone drop you on the head as a baby?” Joel barked.

Presently, for you, the world was tilting sideways, and your head was throbbing at a nauseating tempo.

“Go around slingin’ drinks at any old man you—”

Green. Green must’ve been the color of your face as you braced your hands on your knees and assumed a stance as if to scream at the ground. Rather than expecting any noise to ring out, though, you had only to squeeze your eyes shut and hold onto a hunch for something much less pleasant. And viscous.

Reeking mostly of Red Bull and regret, if you had to guess.

Joel took a big step back, and then he took another.

“Da-a-adgummit, girl, what the—”

He turned away just in time to miss the sight of you emptying your guts on the ground, but not quite fast enough to be spared the sounds of you retching. They were loud. Joel Miller was known to be a largely imperturbable force around these parts, but even he was made to feel queasy hearing that. Out of habit, he clapped his hand to his own gut and stumbled off. He stared at the bar, then at his car, then at the gravel crushed under his feet for what felt like the longest time. Then his gaze lingered to his lower half, and he thought:

‘Please, please don’t gimme no daughters. Please.’

He was forty-five. The time for making babies and raising daughters to be anything like a woman of your ilk was probably long past him. All the same, he kept his gaze on his crotch and sighed. Balls, you better not betray me.

When he heard the crunch of rocks, he turned around.

“HEY!”

Oh, no. No. Not tonight.

You were staggering to your car, keys in hand.

“Hey!” Joel called again, jogging after you.

It seemed the second shout had done him no more favors than the first. You were fumbling to get the key inside the door, and you looked as determined as ever.

Over your shoulder, you tossed back, careless:

“You ain’t the boss of me, Tommy Miller.”

You got the key to turn. You opened the door. You were just about to climb inside what looked to Joel to be the ugliest Dodge Ram pickup he’d seen in his life, when he grabbed your arm.

“It’s Joel,” he growled. Pinching your elbow tight as he tugged it back, “And you ain’t driving anywhere tonight.”

Somewhere in front of him, tilted away from his line of vision, you must’ve been grinning, because the next thing he heard from you was the scoff of a laugh.

“Oh yeah?”

Joel flipped you around to face him.

“Yeah,” he snapped.

Feeling a bit like a kid for mimicking your tone.

What were you, twenty-two? Twenty-three? You couldn’t have been a patron of a place like Tipsy Bison for very long, or else he would’ve recognized you tonight.

Then again, you struck him as the type to have had a fake ID since you were fifteen, so he really couldn’t know.

“I’m twenny-wuh-un,” you slurred up at him, exaggerated, once he’d made you step down from the running board and onto the ground. Answering his last unspoken question with the same, sleepy grin as before. Then lifting one of your hands to wag a finger in his face, “I can drink legal anywhere I want to in this country.”

“Not there,” Joel nodded to the interstate.

You looked to where he’d gestured and whistled. Standing and staring, like he had done to his crotch.

“Well fuck me-e!” you said next, dragging out the sound a childish amount, “You the law or somethin’, Mr. Joel?”

“Ain’t no cop.” Joel rolled his eyes.

You kept smiling. Then you turned on your heels.

And instead of trying to climb back into your truck, you sauntered off—in what direction, Joel couldn’t tell. You were more so bumbling about, turning in circles like the world’s most scantily-clad, semi-intoxicated ballerina. And then you stopped. You put your hands on your hips.

“‘Cause I’m the law,” you resumed in a slow, deliberate drawl. The twang you used was mostly feigned, “And you cain’t beat the law. Don’t nobody get away with that, not even a bunch’a Alabama smart alecks, believe you me.”

Joel didn’t know what the fuck you were talking about. The man was Texas born and bred, and you knew it.

He communicated as much by pinning you with a wide, bewildered stare, and something in that seemed to amuse. You stared back, making your eyes bug out too.

“It’s a quote from a movie,” you said, after a beat, “You’ve never seen Fried Green Tomatoes before?”

Joel couldn’t say that he had.

Joel reckoned there was a lot more than just movies he didn’t share in common with you. Miss Twenty-One. Barely a year past the age he’d been when he’d moved out of the house and tried to make a living on his own.

This woman, this girl he saw twirling out in front of him now probably couldn’t pour piss out of a boot with the instructions written on the heel if he’d asked you to. Joel shook his head and moved his feet, frown etching deep.

“Alright, princess. Up.”

You didn’t seem to understand, until he’d lifted you. Up.

You were thrown over his shoulder and carried to a truck much nicer than yours in less than fifteen seconds or so.

“Stinks in here,” you said as soon as he’d set you down.

Then, sniffing the air—and grinning:

“Aw, hell, Miller…you smoke?”

Joel wished he’d said no.

Wished he’d rolled his eyes and told you to pipe down, stop asking him questions. It would’ve made the drive a whole lot easier, and more peaceful. Nowhere near as painful, either, if he were being perfectly honest—the strain in his jeans had already gotten to be more than he could bear, and all you’d asked for was a pack of smokes.

“They call ‘em Cowboy Killers,” you said, matter-of-fact.

“I know what they’re called,” Joel grumbled in reply. Flicking the radio on and hoping to find a tune that would drown out the too-lovely, cloying voice you’d assumed as soon as you thought you might win a cigarette off of him. More chatty now than ever.

And for one, blissful moment, Toby Keith had you beat. The calm was fleeting. As soon as ‘Who’s Your Daddy’ started to drift through the car’s old speakers, you reached across and turned the knob to the left.

“Gross,” you muttered.

“What?”

“Got a light?”

“Blow me.”

Joel’s harsh, clipped tone was deliberate. The way he’d made himself mean—meaner than he’d been around a woman in a long, long time—was a choice. He couldn’t let your faux sweetness win him now. Not after you’d thrown two drinks in his face, mocked his truck, and foreclosed any possibility of getting laid by way of all your publicized infidelity philippics and shit-talking. Giving in to your charms from where you sat in the passenger seat now would only sink him further in his own esteem. Simply put, Joel’s ego couldn’t take it.

“Okie doke,” you said presently. Shrugging.

“Now keep your—HEY!”

Joel nearly swerved his truck off the road and into a ditch. Your deft little hands had slipped into his lap—and started palming his crotch through the denim.

He’d just managed to right the vehicle before jerking a look your way, staring at your hand, then your face:

“What the fuck was that?!”

“You said ‘blow me,’ Joel!” you huffed, and you seriously appeared as distraught as he was, “Sorry for listening!”

Joel grit his teeth with all the force of a cold steel trap.

“You’re fuckin’ nuts.” He gripped the wheel even tighter.

“I’m aware.”

“Where the hell do you live, anyway?”

You told him.

Your hand slipped down to the seat beside him.

And just as Joel let out what felt like the tiniest sigh of relief—he knew where that was, and the address sounded vaguely familiar—he yelped again. This time, he managed to keep control of his truck, but it was hard.

Your fingers had returned, and they were kneading the bulge under his jeans. Joel flushed from head to toe.

He didn’t have so much as half a mind to make you stop. He didn’t want to see you slink back over to your side of the car. But you were twenty-one, and he was forty-five. And you were both under the influence to some degree. And he was driving, for fuck’s sake. Shit like that only worked in dreams—not on a highway in a town like this.

He turned the radio dial to 75. At length, he heard it loud:

‘WHO’S YOUR DADDY? WHO’S YOUR BA-A-A-ABY?’

He saw you cringe.

“C’mon, Joel,” you groaned, “That’s…yuck.”

The fingers of the one hand kept digging, rubbing, but the other reached out and turned the music down again.

Joel shifted in his seat, feeling the pleasure start to bloom from the pit of his stomach, but not wanting to let you off that easy. Briefly, he looked from the road to you.

“What? You got a problem with Toby Keith?”

“I got a problem with anyone sayin’ ‘daddy’ like that.”

You unzipped his fly. Popped the button of his jeans from underneath the soft shelf of belly hanging over it, and held him, finally. You could only cup his erection through his boxers at that point, but the friction was enough to send a shiver through the whole of the old man’s body. He hadn’t been touched like that by a hand that wasn’t his own in…he couldn’t remember how long. He sighed.

“That why you’ve got your hand down the pants of a man old enough to be your father?” Joel quipped.

He couldn’t help it.

Your hand only gripped him tighter. From the passenger seat, you’d leaned over and started crawling. Scowling.

Your knees swiftly planted themselves on the old, upholstered cushion of the bucket seat, and you slipped a touch beneath the waistband of his underwear. With a hand that was smooth and soft and eager to please, you wrapped your fingers around that base and leaned in.

“You sound like you want me to say it,” you whispered.

Under your hand, he pulsed. His gaze stayed on the road.

“Don’t make no difference to me, sweet pea,” he said, and was amazed how even he was able to keep his tone:

“But those ‘Cowboy Killers’ you wanted…”

Your fingers curled tighter. Your head sank lower.

“…they don’t come cheap, y’know.”

Oh, you knew. He saw a smile snag at the corners of your lips as you brought them to his lap, and he had to force himself to look at the road again. It was empty and dark.

The tarmac stretched out for days. The fields rolling past warned sternly, ‘Don’t let her win,’ and something more in between each tree seemed to invite deliberation—remembrance, maybe. Joel was far too focused on the feel of your mouth to give the woods a second thought.

You’d worked the first inch between your lips in a slick, obscene sort of kiss; you made room for just the head and then toyed with a bead of precum leaking out of his slit. You licked it, squeezed the shaft in your hand, and hummed while the first real moan rumbled through him.

Joel turned to putty with just that flick of your tongue. He didn’t have to see your face to know he was losing.

On the wheel, his grip grew tighter, and he choked out:

“Ain’t your fuckin’ lollypop, kid.”

Then, dropping one hand to push down on your head—make you take him to the back of your throat in one go.

“Daddy wants you to suck him like a big girl, hear?”

At the base of his cock, he felt you gag. From the bottom of his heart, Joel knew there was no sound sweeter than that. He ran his fingers over your skull and tapped gently.

���If you want those smokes,” he told you—and really, with all the warmth and moisture of your mouth enveloping him now, he’d had to try to sound rougher than he was, “You’re gonna do what daddy says and suck him right.”

You gagged again, then squeezed his denim-clad leg with the hand that wasn’t wrapped around his member.

Joel yanked you by your hair and made you look up.

Your cheeks were already smeared with spit and tears. Much to his surprise, he found your eyes alight and soft.

Suffused with desire, too, from what he could see.

“Yes, daddy.” You grinned up at him.

Joel knew if he let your gaze stay on his a second longer now he’d either crash his car, blow his load, or fall in love—and he simply refused to let you succeed on any of those fronts, so he shoved your face back down.

You sucked him obediently. Greedily. Mouth growing more pliant and wet by the second, as if your jaw and salivary glands had contrived to get him as close to release as possible, as quickly as they were able.

Joel took a left onto a road he had only a dim recognition as being connected to yours, and he got that feeling again. You were bobbing your head, taking him further, flattening your tongue along the bottom of his member when his pleasure swelled inside him. At the same time, he felt a sense of dread. His hands were shaking on the wheel. He didn’t dare steal a look down to the sweet, soaked, perfect little mouth sucking him dry, because he knew that feeling would only strike twice as hard. He had to cum, or make you stop, or bring his truck to a halt.

As it was, he felt five tiny crescents sink into his thigh as you gripped him tighter, and a noise bubbled up in your mouth. Your breathing went shallow, and your lips stretched wide—you were trying, and succeeding, in deep-throating his thick, throbbing, much-too-old-for-a-girl-her-age member down close to your windpipe, and Joel could feel it. He hit his blinker, not thinking, and saw a sign that marked your street. Trepidation hit him again.

Fully, this time, in a feeling that was more like terror.

He didn’t have another second to question it, either. By the time he had the old, lone farmhouse in his sights and his heart nearly halfway up his throat with fear, your own throat pulsed, and opened the last two inches to him in. Your nose found their home in the rough, grey, wiry hairs at the base of his belly, having swallowed him whole, and Joel quickly sensed the start of what he knew too well.

He came down your throat in one, two, three, four, five long spurts, and didn’t let his foot off the gas even once.

He saw your house, approaching closer now, and paled.

No fucking way.

You’d wanted to skip the whole way up your drive.

Spit still drying on your cheeks, cum resting comfortably in your belly, and a smile as bright as the sun on your face as you waved to the F-150 pulling off toward the road, you’d never felt more alive—or smug—in your life.

“Is your dad…Lucien Flores?” Joel had asked no more than a second after his dick slipped out of your mouth.

“The one and only.”

Somehow, his face got even paler. His jaw visibly clenched, and his palm hit the top of the wheel. Hard.

It was then that you’d learned your father had hired Joel Miller on as a full-time ranch hand sometime last week.

He’d remembered the address, vaguely, but didn’t connect the dots until he’d pulled up in front of your house and damn near punctured your windpipe with his pulsing dick from how fast he’d jumped up—and cum.

His spend had almost shot through your nose with the force of it, but you didn’t mind. Once he’d revealed the wild, gory, and admittedly hilarious details of his newfound employment, you were too busy laughing your ass off to care if he’d torn your throat in two with his dick.

“So you really are a cowboy, then,” you’d said, giggling.

Joel had scowled. Rolled his eyes. Practically turned the color of a tomato when you leaned in and kissed him.

Now you were waving to him from your front door.

Joel’s truck was slow to go. The taste of him was fresh.

And there, weighing light in your back pocket while you said goodbye was a brand new pack of Marlboro Reds.

2:21 AM

You were safely in bed. You checked your phone.

Aside from fourteen missed calls, you saw:

1:09 AM – Maria

DUDE

1:09 AM

TOMMY JUST CAME HOME

1:09 AM

THAT’S NOT HIM AT THE BAR

1:13 AM

IT’S JUST JOEL!! HIS BROTHER!!!

1:13 AM

ABORT ABORT ABORT

1:42 AM

DAVE SAID YOU BEAT JOEL UP???? CALL ME

1:54 AM – Dave York

Ur gonna fuck that old dude aren’t u

[the-newlymadeweeb]

His Girl

Luke Castellan x female!reader

Description: Luke spends a moment with his favourite hot tempered darling.

Gif is not mine, credits to the creator.

*****************************************************************************

It was an agreed upon opinion that battle axes were incredibly unconventional but you had decided from the moment you had it made that this would be your weapon of choice. And by the gods, did you have a temper. You'd joke that at least your brutish rage would match your brutish weapon. It was extremely ironic when the owl symbol burned brightly over your head and not the symbolic blessing of Ares.

Luke always thought you were a fascinating person: soft features sharply contrasted with fiery eyes and an axe. All that righteous rage never looked so beautiful. He'd received a very limited amount of blessings that were for him alone, but you were satiating and comforting and the hollowed feeling in his chest filled when you let him reach out and accept him in your hands and heart.

And sometimes he'd think, okay maybe there's some salvation and goodness for me.

"Luke? What are you–"

"Just– let me, okay?" He asked as he traced his thumb across your brow and cheekbone, his other hand cupping the back of your neck, cradling you close– admiring, imbibing, "the twins tried to prank you again?"

You rolled your eyes, "would've been funny if I didn't see it a mile away."

"Is that so? Is that why they had me hide your axe?"

He laughed, drawing you close, kissing away the claims of betrayal and conspiracy.

"Gods, you're so beautiful," He sighed.

Sooner or later things were going to change. Luke had a feeling that the summer solstice would truly stir the pot and for all your anger, he knew that when it came down to it, you might not side with him always. In a way, Athena cannot be trusted and hence, neither could you or even Annabeth for a matter of fact.

That wasn't going to change his mind or the skeleton of a plan he'd created but it did make him begin to miss you already, and he knew that he'd covet you even more as the time passed and he'll miss your precious righteous anger and the bittersweet taste of salt and sweat that he kissed off your lips and cheeks after strenuous tasks or games.

His girl with fiery eyes and an axe.

"Yeah, yeah; you keep complimenting me while aiding and abetting the twins. Cancels each other out."

You grinned, tucking your head into the crook of his neck, sneaking your thumbs under his shirt, brushing his sides. You know Luke'll return your weapons and Travis and Connor will be sent for their showers after the entire Hermes cabin finishes theirs for the next week. All in all, dating Head Councelor has its perks.

"Your birthday's coming up, got any requests?" He asks, pressing a kiss to your hair before leaning back to look you in the eye.

"Nah, maybe we can spend the day sparring. I can show you this technique I've developed."

"Sparring, huh?" He smirks, "sure, I'd love to see this technique of yours."

"Wow, leave me alone," you roll your eyes, swatting at him.

He catched your hand and presses two kisses between your knuckles and as always, almost love a traditional practice you do the same to him.

"Alright I gotta go, the new kids got their Greek lesson now," you say.

"Wish I had such a gorgeous tutor back in the day," he teases, grinning as you stick your tongue at him, "I'll see you later."

"Yeah you will. I love you."

"I love you more.'

His girl with fiery eyes and an axe.

*****************************************************************************

[joeyb1989]

flowers - joe burrow

word count: 524

pairing: joe burrow x actress!reader

warnings: none! pure fluff (maybe a little tiny sliver of angst?)

a/n: first blurb! this was totally inspired by travis kelce gifting taylor swift flowers when he couldn’t make it to her movie premiere. also, how are we feeling about buzzcut joe? anyways, hope you all enjoy 🫶

—

The bright, flashing lights were flashing in your face. You wondered if the screams could be heard from a mile away.

Tonight was the premiere for your new movie and you knew all eyes would be on you. The past week would have been crazy for anyone, but when your whole life is constantly being analyzed from people you don’t even know, it made everything crazier.

Last Sunday, you went to your first NFL game; which is exciting, but why is it so important?

Last Sunday confirmed the rumored love affair between you, and the star quarterback of the Cincinnati Bengals.

You met Joe at a mutual friends’ wedding back last offseason. Despite the very different paths you two were heading down, you both made sure to include each other in your lives as best you could.

For Joe, that meant you showing up his games, being there for him through the wins and losses, giving him a massage when he was sore from practice, encouraging him when he had doubts, and so much more.

For you, that meant showing up for you at premieres, comforting you when the critics and public’s opinions of you got to be too much, watching all your projects, and more.

Joe couldn’t bear the thought of telling you that he wouldn’t be able to make it to your premiere. With the playoffs coming up, Coach Taylor scheduled so many practices and workouts that Joe couldn’t miss. When he did finally break the news to you, you understood completely. Sure, you were excited about your boyfriend being there to support you; but he has his own priorities.

As you existed the red carpet and went backstage, you were filled with joy when you knew that you would be able to talk to Joe in a few short hours.

“Miss Y/l/n,” one of the directors called backstage, “There’s been a delivery for you.”

You turn around to see a man carrying a giant bouquet of pink, red, and white roses. Whoever sent it must have spent a lot of money on it.

“Would you like these in your dressing room, ma’am,” the director asked

“Yes, please,” you reply with a soft smile

“Here’s the card that goes with the flowers, Miss Y/l/n,” the delivery man said

You open the envelope to see a handwritten note from Joe.

Y/n,

I am so proud of you and everything you are going to accomplish with this movie. You are the most talented, hardworking, beautiful woman that’s ever walked this planet. You deserve everything good in this world and more. I wish I could be there with you on this special day; but just know I’m cheering you on from here. I love you so so much

Forever and always,

Joe

You smile sweetly at the card before walking into the theater where the movie will be played. As you sit down, you decide to send a text to your sweet boyfriend, thanking him for the beautiful flowers and letting him know how much you love and appreciate him. Even when he can’t be physically present, he makes sure you know how much he loves and adores you.

[sleepinthrumyalarms]

— smoke some, drink some, pop one

pairing: vada cavell x fem!reader

warnings: smut, drug use, lesbian sex, cunnilingus, overstimulation, slight roughness, unnecessary euphoria references

summary: you smoke dope. vada admits she has never eaten a girl out before. a practical demonstration ensues

word count: 2.7k

a/n: this was written under the influence of a travis scott song. expect anything. enjoy

You stare at the clock hanging above the blackboard anxiously, kicking your leg under the desk. The last few minutes of the last period always seem to stretch miles into infinity, and your patience is barely as flexible. The voice of the teacher has long since become background noise, the talk of equations and trigonometry and the finals week and how unprepared you were for it the last thing on your mind.

You pick your phone up for the millionth time to look at the messages still hanging and marked as unseen on your screen, eyes focusing on Vada’s name followed by an emoji of a puppy and a black heart.

‘got us enough to roll one’

‘just one tho’

‘don’t wanna end up like last time’

You chuckle quietly – the sweet memories of you and Vada skinny dipping in a pond at night and then showing up half-naked at Nick’s door are definitely the ones you treasure most, even though you can barely piece them together.

You look out the window, lost in thought. Your teacher asks you a question – and then you're saved by the sound of the bell ringing across the building.

As soon as you hear it you’re up and all but bolting out the door, muttering a quick ‘bye’ to the teacher to maintain your good girl image that, to be honest, has been hanging by a thread ever since the day you started dating Vada.

Not that you really care about their opinion. You just don’t want the principal to call your mother again.

You speed walk through the corridor, try to remember which floor was Vada’s class on, before you’re stopped by a pair of hands wrapping around your waist.

“Hey there pretty girl.”

You squeal in surprise, turning around in your girlfriend’s arms. She’s grinning at you annoyingly, the little shit, but the small dimple on her right cheek makes it impossible to be mad at her.

“Fuck, Vada,” you huff, pinching her shoulder half-heartedly, “I’ve got a weak heart, remember?

She shrugs, leans in to kiss your pout away.

“Sorry. I got out early. Wanted to wait for you since apparently someone's not interested in answering any of my texts anymore.”

You kiss her back, smiling apologetically, “I was too excited to see you, I guess.”

The brunette hums, lacing her fingers with yours, “Where to then?”

You think about inviting her over to your place – it’s closer to school, and your mom is working till late evening, but the rationality clicks quicker. Your mom also happens to work as the district attorney of the town – you’re pretty damn sure she knows what pot smells like, and would be able to smell it hours after you and Vada have fucked beyond the common sense of ventilating the house.

So you do the next best thing, one that won’t get either of you in trouble – you hotbox in your girlfriend’s car. You realize it might soon become the best thing, because it hits so much better.

Vada gets greedy with the joint a few times – you have to remind her it’s puff puff pass, not puff puff kiss your girlfriend so she lets her guard down then puff again.

In a few minutes you’re in her lap and making out with her like it’s your last day on Earth, the two of you giggling into each other’s mouths when you accidentally press the horn with your butt a few times, the honking sound mixing with your laughter.

You can barely make Vada’s face out by the time the last of the joint fizzles out and starts to burn your fingertips, the smoke filling the car up to the brim, but her eyes stand out amidst the choking whiteness, her pupils almost heart-shaped as she watches you with a dopey grin.

When you open the door the smoke drifts up the sky in big clouds, and breathing clear oxygen almost feels weird.

You’re still giggling slightly as Vada fumbles with her pockets to find her keys, your soft lips pressing to the side of her neck in sweet pecks making the process of finding them unnecessarily hard.

She shushes you when you finally step inside, listening for any sounds, before closing the door behind you. As soon as you realize you’re alone in the house, you press your lips against Vada’s impatiently.

“Don’t forget– your shoes,” Vada manages between the kisses, shivering as you slide your hands under her oversized shirt, “I’m serious, you horndog. Mom hates it when the floors are dirty.”

You groan into her lips, pulling away to untie your Jordans, shaking on your unstable legs slightly, and make your way up the stairs into her room. Vada opens the window to let the fresh spring air sweep through the room, hoping it’ll be enough to help the smell of weed wear off your clothes and hair.

“Wanna watch a show?” She asks, gesturing to her laptop as you sit on her bed, crossing your legs.

“Mhm. You’re thinking Euphoria, aren’t you?” You snort, watching as your girlfriend slides next to you, “Because I think we’re pretty much in one.”

“So, like,” Vada trails off, her hands coming to rest on your hips in what she thinks is a subtle movement, “Would that make me Rue, then?”

She plays with a string on your pants, feeling almost embarassed about the corny things she's saying.

“And you – Jules?”

You hum, tilting your head with a coy grin, try and mull her innuendo over in your baked out mind. The comparison does seem familiar – especially with Vada’s puppy love towards you.

“Well, I liked their duo in the first season but... weren’t they, like... extremely toxic later on?”

Vada finally pulls in you to sit on her lap, your thighs bracketing hers, and it’s such close proximity you can count all the pretty freckles scattered across her face. You’d probably get lost at fifty, way too high for mathematics of any kind, even if it’s this romantic.

“You’re right. Fuck Euphoria,” she whispers, her gaze sliding to your lips, and you don’t waste any more time to press your lips to hers.

Kissing Vada has always been something to look forward to – warm and pleasant, makes your stomach flip when she’d bite your bottom lip and lick at your teeth. Kissing Vada whilst being slightly high is an out of this world feeling. Her nose presses into your cheek, and your palms slide to the back of her neck, fingers twirling her silky brown tresses idly.

You pull away for air, and it gets stuck in your throat as the brunette presses a kiss behind your ear, trailing the butterfly smooches down to your pulse point. Her hands are kept busy under your shirt, fingertips tracing up your stomach to your ribs.

“How many times have you ever been eaten out?”

A sudden but... not at all unwelcome question. You lean back on your hands, humming when her plush lips rest against your collarbone, and purse your lips in thought.

“Mm... once or twice. I don’t really keep any notches on my belt, y’know?”

Her hands tighten around your hips, and you chuckle.

“Drinking vinegar, are you now? Don’t worry. You have an opportunity to top them all.”

Vada averts her gaze suddenly. You frown, lean in to cup her face gently.

“What’s wrong?”

The brunette rubs her thumbs over your clothed thighs, then looks back up at you, a small frown on her face.

“I’ve never done this before.”

“You’ve never... fucked anyone?” You're sure that's a lie – she's fucked you before.

“I’ve never given a girl head.”

You hum, reaching to hold her slightly shaky hands, slowly inching them closer to the waistband of your sweatpants, “I can teach you,” you suggest, biting your lip, “Show you what I like. That cool?”

Vada looks almost mesmerized. She nods, her gaze fixed on your pants, and you giggle as she tugs them down your legs, prompting you to slide off her lap to let her do so, the cool outside breeze hitting your warm skin and rising goosebumps in its wake.

“I listened to a podcast the other day,” she begins, “About cunnilingus. The host said the best advice she’s ever gotten was to google wielding techniques.”

You raise your eyebrows in confusion, “Huh?”

Vada reaches for her phone on the bedside table, quickly unlocking it and typing something in the search bar. She selects a random picture and shows you the screen.

There are indeed blueprints of what looks like wielding seams, going from bottom to the top. The arrows are forming different patterns – there are zig-zags, crescents, a circular seam and a ‘figure 8’ seam...

For all the ridiculousness, they do seem... practical.

You smile and grab the phone, turning it off and tossing it somewhere back on the bed.

Of course she would do that – research stuff. It’s so fucking endearing it prompts you to wrap your hands around her neck and press a kiss to her cheek.

“Why not stick to the usual alphabet thing, hm?” You offer, “I can tell which letter I’d love the most.”

You lean in to whisper into her ear huskily, “It’s ‘V’.”

Vada shudders, making you smile. Then her hands grasp at your hips, tugging you closer, and your breath hitches at her sudden assertiveness.

The brunette bends her knees so that she’s level with your center and parts your legs slowly. You curse under your breath – you’re pretty much drenched right through your panties, and if Vada was just slightly more sober, she’d probably tease you about it, too. You’re glad she isn’t.

She leans in closer instead, tongue lolling out and pressing against your clothed cunt, licking a stripe up the smeared wetness there. Her fingers slip under the waistband of your underwear, and you tilt your hips up a bit to help her take it off, the movement causing your heat to press further into her mouth, making you whine.

Your panties are off, and so is Vada’s tongue.

She stares long enough for you to feel a bit conscious about yourself, and you move to close your legs on instinct, but her hands keep them apart. She hooks your ankles over her shoulders, shoots you a warning look. Her dark gaze makes you clench around nothing. The shyness and uncertainty is gone like it wasn’t even there.

You’re not sure if it’s weed, or if you’re being tricked, but this version of Vada is... new. Extremely hot, too.

She lowers herself so that she’s inches away from your pussy, her warm breath fanning your swollen clit – you're so strung up that you’re starting to feel a second heartbeat in between your legs. Vada looks up at you again, making sure you’re watching her as she flattens her tongue along your slit, collecting all the warm slick that leaked out from the moment she had you on her lap. She lets out a satisfied groan, and you sigh, hips buckling to meet her.

Despite all your confidence, you feel yourself crumble at the first touch of your girlfriend’s mouth on you – you’ve always preferred this over any kind of penetration, and Vada’s eagerness to please you doesn’t help.

She withdraws for a moment, and you find yourself missing her immediately.

“Is this okay?” She asks, palms caressing your thighs to soothe you.

“Don’t make me beg.” You breathe with a chuckle.

She laps at your folds, groaning at the saccharine warmth of your arousal coating her tongue – then leans back again, and you’re almost whining before she reaches her thumb to rub at your swollen clit, her breathing heavy as she watches you gush around nothing.

“Baby.” You whine pathetically, your knees coming together to try and push her face into you.

Vada doesn’t seem to be bothered in the slightest, her digit circling your sensitive spot, never taking her eyes away, “Hm?”

“Please,” you murmur, voice stifled by the hot arousal burning in your veins, “Want your mouth, baby. Want to cum on your tongue, please.”

The brunette digs her fingers into the soft flesh of your hips before wrapping her plump lips around your clit, gently sucking, and your thighs tighten around her head at the sudden overwhelmingly good feeling coursing through your body. You almost can’t believe how good it feels – how good Vada is, almost naturally talented at making your toes curl as she mouths at your dripping pussy, keeping a burning grip on your quivering legs. The immense amount of pleasure is so sudden you’re practically sobbing her name, your stomach tensing and hips bucking with each calculated flick of the girl’s tongue. The sheets under you are considerably darker than the rest, a pool of your cum along with the brunette’s spit dampening the area.

You’ve heard that drugs can expand your consciousness, but to such a degree that has you seeing stars as Vada eats you out like it’s her second nature...

Her tongue slips between your walls suddenly, causing you to arch your back into the air, hips rolling into her face. Her tongue continues to lap confidently, going in circles around your entrance. A shaky sigh leaves your lungs, and you have to clench your eyes shut.

“Vada, oh my god,” you breathe shakily, your voice tight and high, feeling you stomach coil, “I'm gonna cum– Fuck, fuck, Vada."

Her lips find your clit again, and that’s what sends you over the edge, your thighs clasping around her head so tight she swears her ears start to ring.

You shiver as the brunette drinks you up hungrily, your legs easing their hold on her, chest heaving with shuddering gasps.

“Oh, Vada. Fuck,” you mutter, resting your forearm over your eyes as you try to calm your speeding heart, “That was so... so good, baby. I think you lied to me. Either that, or you’re... a natural.” You chuckle breathlessly, raising a shaky hand to swipe some stray hairs from your forehead.

Your legs move to unhook themselves from the girl’s shoulders, taking pity on her most likely strained muscles, but Vada’s grip turns bruising on your legs. You’re pushed back further into the pillows suddenly, and before you can let out a single peep in alarm, she’s on you again.

Her hands reach to grasp under your knees, bending your legs up, your pussy spread open for her. She doesn’t relent — her hands hold your thighs as she all but buries her face in your heat, the movements of her tongue harsh. Fast. Merciless.

The sudden aggressiveness makes you let out a broken moan, your hands darting to tread through Vada’s hair, wanting her closer but away at the same time, the painful pleasure too much for your scrambled mush of a brain to handle.

“Oh my god, Vada!”

She leans away for a moment to trace two separate stripes from your entrance up to your clit with the tip of her tongue, and you whine, your foggy mind realizing that she has actually just done the letter thing, before she’s back on you like a hungry beast, jaw hanging open to wrap her mouth around your seizing cunt with an obscene slurping sound.

Your back arches as you cum harder than before, throwing your head back against bed and squeezing your eyes shut, your girlfriend’s name tumbling out of your mouth in an almost pornographic moan. You whine as Vada laps at your center with purpose, licking you clean, before pulling away mercifully.

There’s a cocky wolfish grin on the brunette’s face as she watches you open your eyes slowly, trying to compose yourself.

“How was that for a notch on your belt, hm?”

Shit. If you didn’t just experience the most intense orgasm in your life, you’d scoff at the smugness of her tone.

“I’m gonna be honest... I wasn’t sure I’d be into... that,” you say shakily, “But I guess I am now. Jesus Christ, Vada.”

“Just Vada is fine.” She gently caresses your hips, leans down to kiss your jaw lovingly, “Now...”

Her fingers lift the hem of your shirt up to your chest, blunt nails grazing the flesh under your breasts – she watches them rise and fall with your unsteady breaths.

“How about I salt the earth behind me so that no one ever stands a chance of owning you the way I do?”

[kelcemenow]

Hey Daddy.

Pairing Travis Kelce x Reader

Words 3381

Warnings Some strong language and mentions of miscarriage, blood, losing a family member. There's a bit of angst and lots of fluff though!

Another Anon request! This is my first Dad Travis/pregnancy related fic. As someone who has never been pregnant and doesn't plan on it in the future, I've avoided writing this sort of thing. But this is why I love getting requests as it brought me out of my comfort zone and I really enjoyed doing it! So, thank you Anon for making me branch out into a different style! "Can I request some dad Travis/pregnant reader? Travis has to travel for an away game and his wife (reader) is 9 months pregnant who has to stay home - unable to travel due to being so close to giving birth. She gets very anxious lately whenever Travis has to leave because she can go into labor any day now. Game day is here and the reader is not feeling well at all. She's curled up on the couch with a blanket and some tea, to watch the game. During the game, the reader's water breaks and she goes into labor. Travis' mom is in touch with her. Travis' mom notifies the team staff what's going on... and then they notify Travis during the game."

"Baby, I miss you." Travis' warm voice made you melt as you held the phone close to your ear.

"You only left this morning!" You giggled as you clutched at the blanket and pulled it up to your chest, "You can't miss me already?"

"Yes I can! Are you saying you don't miss me when I leave?"

"Of course I do, Travis." You winced slightly as you shifted on the sofa.

Travis heard your slight noise of discomfort, "What? Are you okay? What's wrong?" He immediately sounded concerned.

"Relax, baby. I've just got cramp. I'm fine."

You heard him sigh in relief, "Man, I hate leaving you. I hate leaving you anyway, but you're sick and you know...ready to burst."

"Not long until the little guy is here." You gently rubbed your swelling stomach.

The Chiefs had a game in Dallas against the Cowboys and Travis had travelled to the game alone for the first time since you had been together. You only had 2 weeks left until your due date and luckily, Travis had had a bye week and two home games in a row, meaning he was around to take care of you. You hadn't been feeling 100% for the past few days however, meaning he was more worried, especially as he was about to be 500 miles away from you. You tried to keep him calm, reminding him that it was only an hour's flight home and he would be back before he knew it.

"Well, try to keep him in there until I'm home."

You laughed, "I don't think I'll have much of a say!"

Travis hummed into his phone, "And remember, you can call my Mom at any time."

You snickered slightly, "Travis, I'm fine. I'll be here on the couch with my snacks and my herbal tea, watching you kill it."

Travis sighed again, "Okay, okay. Baby, I gotta go. But please, take care until I get back, alright?"

"Alright. I love you, Travis."

"I love you, Y/N."

You hung up the phone and reached for your ginger tea, sipping it gently, the hot steam tickling your cheeks. A strong stab shot through your lower back again, causing you to stretch your chest upwards in an attempt to relieve any pressure. You had been having these pains for most of the afternoon but you didn't want to worry Travis. You picked up your phone from the arm of the sofa and texted Travis' Mom, Donna.

"I've had a few more of those pains, but I don't know how much more ginger tea I can have. I'm running the the bathroom every two minutes!"

Donna must have had her phone in her hand as they three grey dots appeared almost immedately.

"Just wait till you're at my age, sweetie!"

You smiled at her message, pulling the bowl of nacho chips onto your lap, enjoying the pre-game interviews. Your eyes danced across the room, cards from friends and family wishing you well for your pregnancy dotted around the surfaces. A brand new crib was located near the window, a bright blue bow secured on top; a gift from Travis' brother Jason and his wife Kylie. Your heart fluttered as thoughts of you and Travis becoming parents filled your mind. He was fantastic with his three nieces and they adored him just as much as he did them. You picked up your cup of tea, but as you brought it to your lips, you felt your bladder sting, groaning as you lifted yourself up for another trip to the bathroom.

By the second half of the game, you were out of chips and the Chiefs were down by 7 points. You grumbled to yourself with the dull ache that was radiating across your back and stomach. Gripping onto the blanket you opened your latest message from Donna.

"Keep up with those breathing exercises, honey. Have you got the birthing ball?"

Your eyes scanned over to the large, blue gym ball in the corner of the lounge. You knew that it would help with your pains but just the idea of getting up from the sofa was enough to tire you out.

"Yeah I have. I'll get on it now. I could really do with a Momma Kelce hug, that would make me feel better!"

"You only have one week to wait and you can have all of the Momma Kelce hugs you want!"

You smiled as you put your phone back down and slowly rose to your feet, one hand lightly supporting your large bump. As you settled down on the ball in front of the TV, the third quarter was beginning. You gently bounced, breathing deeply and feeling some of the pain release before your core tightened again.

Travis' face flashed up onto the screen as he was settling into position for the first play of the quarter and you smiled, feeling an immense combination of love, pride and respect. Your relationship had developed over a few years, through your friendship with his teammate Eric Fisher and his wife Elizabeth. When Travis was drafted to the Chiefs, he was invited to numerous parties, dinners and barbeques that you had attended and a close friendship blossomed. Travis eventually asked to take you out on a date and you agreed, with a little persuasion from Elizabeth and Eric. He was kind, caring and attentive to you, with staunch manners and an incredible sense of humour. He made you laugh, made you feel safe and always put you first when he could. The two of you had married after 4 years surrounded by your family and friends and it was truly the happiest day of your life. You couldn't believe how lucky you were, staring up at the handsome man who was promising the rest of his life to you. It was a mutual decision to start trying to have children, and you got to work almost immediately after the wedding.

When you found out that you were pregnant, Travis was overjoyed, choking up as he kissed you repeatedly, crying "Thank you" into your lips. You prepared the house for your new arrival, painting the nursery and spending your Monday nights building new furniture. Everything was falling into place until during your second trimester, you suffered a miscarriage. You had been putting some groceries away when you felt a strange sting deep in your abdomen. You grabbed onto the kitchen counter and doubled over, clutching your stomach with your other hand. You breathed through the intense pain and when Travis walked through the door, he rushed to your side. Picking you up and moving you to the sofa, his face turned white when he saw the trail of blood that ran behind you and he quickly drove you to the hospital.

The next few months were numbing. You felt that you had let Travis down, that it was your fault that you had lost his first child. He insisted every day that you had done nothing wrong and stuck to your side as you grieved.

Just as you were beginning to heal, life threw you another cruel blow. You had invited your Mom for coffee and you knew something was wrong with her. She was quiet and fidgeting so you pushed for answers. You wished you hadn't as it was then when she explained that she had found a lump in her breast and was awaiting for the results from the Doctor. Only days after you saw her, she was diagnosed with Breast Cancer and she passed away soon after. Coming from a single parent household, you and your Mom were extremely close. She was your rock and was elated on your wedding day, constantly telling Travis how happy she was for the pair of you. You had felt like your life was falling apart around you but the one constant support you had was Travis. He would hold you close as you cried yourself to sleep. He would stay with you when you were too drained to leave the house. He took a year off of football to help you and to care for you. You were undeniably grateful to him and when you fell pregnant again, he was reasonably cautious. Reading baby books, attending lamaze classes with you and checking up with you every hour when he wasn't with you. His attentiveness made your heart burst with love, seeing a glimpse of his parenthood skills.

Your attention was brought back to the screen when you heard the commentators begin to raise their voices. Travis was sprinting down the field, the football safely cradled in his arm.

You sat up further, clenching your thigh muscles, "Go on, baby! Come on, keep going! Go!"

Travis made the touchdown with ease, dropping the ball as he raised his hands to the sky, blowing a kiss in your honour, as he always did. You clapped your hands and shouted with happiness until you felt a sudden wetness release in your sweatpants. You stopped, slowly standing up from the gym ball. Feeling the smooth texture with your fingers, you looked down with an initial sense of panic. The liquid was clear and you froze on the spot. Your water had broke.

You immediate reaction was to call Donna.

"Hey honey!" Donna sang down the phone.

"Uhh Donna, I think the baby is coming." Your voice was panicked.

"What?"

"I was cheering for Trav and my water broke."

"Oh shit. Okay, stay calm, relax, I'm gonna call Travis' team staff. Have you called the hospital?"

You paused, "Umm...no. I called you straight away."

"Okay. Call the hospital straight away."

You swallowed hard, "Donna, he's not supposed to come for another 2 weeks."

"I know, it's okay though."

"I'm scared. I'm on my own and I'm scared."

Donna sighed, "I know you are, but trust me, everything is going to be fine."

You nodded your head against the phone, "Yeah, yeah. Thank you so much Donna."

"I'll speak to you soon, sweetie."

You paced the floor with nerves, unsure of what to do. Usually, Travis would be the one to keep you calm so you looked towards the screen. The game was still playing and you stared as Travis was completely unaware that his wife was in labour.

You called the hospital, clutching at your stomach, explaining that your water had broken two weeks before your due date. The call handler explained calmly that they would be sending an ambulance as soon as possible but that you were still in the early stages of labour and not to panic.

As the current play ended, you saw Travis sitting down on the bench, breathing heavily and watching the action on the field as he sat this one out. A member of the Chiefs staff approached him from behind and tapped his shoulder. The camera panned away and you groaned through what you assumed was a contraction, waiting to see your husband on the screen again. When his face finally appeared, his eyes were wide and his head was whipping from side to side, anxiously shouting to everyone around him before he was quickly ushered out of the stadium.

You felt restless. Glancing out of the window, you tried to slow your breathing down in an attempt to relax. You watched the trees swaying with the breeze, almost replicating the movement with your own body and taking deep inhales. Closing your eyes, your hand instinctively cradled your baby bump just as another stab of pain shot through you.

"Come on, just stay in there until Daddy gets back." You muttered.

You hunched your back over and pressed the palms of your hands against the wall for stability as your phone started ringing. Without checking who it was, you answered the call.

"Hello?" You groaned.

"How are you doing, sweetie?"

You winced as you sat down on the gym ball, "I don't know if these pains are contractions but they're kicking my ass, Donna. Did you speak with the team?"

"Yeah, they're getting him out of the stadium now and onto a private jet to bring him home as soon as they can."

You sighed with relief before letting out a throaty cry, "I need him here."

"He'll be there, honey. He isn't missing this."

Your phone beeped in your ear, signalling that another call was trying to get through. You pulled the phone away to look at the screen, seeing a selfie of you and Travis on your wedding day, a huge smile on your face as he pressed a kiss into your cheek.

"He's calling me now, Donna. I'll have to go."

"Okay, call me later on."

You switched the call over quickly, hearing Travis' breathless voice.

"Baby, baby! Are you okay?"

You smiled, "I'm fine, it's painful but I'm okay. They're sending an ambulance as soon as they can."

"I'll be home in an hour and a half. Just sit tight and keep breathing. I love you so much."

Your voice shook, "I love you too, I can't wait to see you be the best Daddy to this little guy." You held your baby bump tenderly, feeling movement through your sweater.

Travis cleared his throat, "I'm getting on the jet now, I'll see you soon."

"Bye, baby."

You dropped your phone on the sofa and began pacing the floor again, grasping at your back as the sharp stab began to change into a dull ache. Your groaned through the pain, gritting your teeth and scrunching your eyes.

It wasn't long before an ambulance arrived to take you to the hospital. You were anxious about having to do this first step on your own but knowing that Travis was on his way eased your mind slightly. He was your birth partner and knew what to do to keep you relaxed, the correct breathing exercises to do and you were desperate to have him by your side.

Once you were in the hospital, you were quickly brought to your private room, your husband wanting only the best for you. It was bright, comfortable and quiet, just what you needed. A cheerful nurse appeared in your doorway with short grey hair and a wide smile.

"Mrs Kelce, my name is Heather. I'll be looking after you today." She beamed as she made her way to your bed.

"Hi Heather." You whined quietly, "My husband is on his way so please could he be let straight in when he gets here?"

She nodded and picked up your notes that were hanging on the end of the bed, "Of course, anything you want. Now, how is your pain."

You scrunched your face, "Manageable at the moment, I guess."

Heather stretched on a pair of gloves, "You just let me know if you would like any help with the pain, but first thing I'm going to do is check how far along you are, if that's okay?"

You nodded as she made her way to the end of the bed, lifting your gown up. You shifted as she examined you, trying to relax.

"Okay, so you're around 4 centimetres so I'm afraid we've got some time to wait, Mrs Kelce."

"Please, call me Y/N."

Heather smiled as she removed her gloves and placed them into the bin, "Now, can I get you anything?"

You pointed down to your bag that you had had packed and ready for the last 2 weeks, "Could you hand me the book that's on the top, please? I figure now would be the perfect time to get some reading in."

Heather reached into the bag and pulled out a large hardbacked book and passed it to you, winking, "Good idea. I'll be just out here. If you need anything at all press that buzzer and I'll be right in."

You smiled at her, your fingers brushing over the pages of your book. You held your breath as another wave of pain brushed over you, but this time it was longer and more intense. You clenched your jaw and closed your eyes to try and deal with the pain, not keen on taking any drugs throughout your labour. Squeezing your eyes further shut, you gripped the book in your hands as the pain began to subside.

Your knuckles were turning white when you heard gentle footsteps. You opened one eye to see Heather set down a cup next to you on the bedside table and lower herself into the nearby seat.

"Ice chips." She said with a smile, "You'll get a dry mouth, especially in this heat."

You took hold of the cup, "Thank you."

She placed one hand on yours, "First time?"

Your face relaxed as the pain subsided, "Yeah." You said with a slow exhale.

"I bet your husband is excited?"

Your lips curled upwards, "You could say that." Your eyes drifted to your phone which had lit up with a notification and was now showing your background of you and Travis on vacation together. "He's going to be an amazing Father."

Heather gave your hand a squeeze, "You'll need to buy an 87 jersey!"

You lowered your eyebrows in confusion.

"My husband is a Chiefs fan, I know who your husband is." She laughed.

"Well, I'm sure I can hook you up with an autograph...ohhhhh." You groaned in agony as Heather started to put her gloves on.

"Oh sweetie, let's just have a look and see what's going on here." Heather said calmly as she began to examine you, "Oh, someone's impatient."

Your eyes widened, "What? What does that mean?"

"It means your baby is coming." She smiled as she removed her gloves and discarded them.

You placed your hands either side of your hips and lifted yourself up slightly, "What? Now? No, Travis isn't here. I need him with me."

Heather took hold of your hands in hers, "Honey, this baby isn't going to wait. He's like his Papa, quick off of the mark." She laughed as she grabbed some charts and unlocked the brakes on your bed.

You closed your eyes, willing the tears not to start falling down your cheeks. You took a few shaky breaths before frantic footsteps in the hallway caused you to open your eyes and your breath hitched when Travis bounded into your room. His face was red and sweaty from rushing around and his expression softened when he saw you.

"Baby, I'm here, I'm here. Is everything okay?" He leaned down and kissed you gently.

You smiled into the kiss, "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just glad you're here. I think they're taking me now."

"What, now? Right now?" His voice was panicked.

Your eyes filled with tears, "Are you ready to be a Daddy?"

His thumb brushed over your forehead, "Absolutely."

Heather appeared in the doorway, "Are we ready?"

You pressed your lips together and nodded quickly, "I think so."

______________________________________________________________

Your eyes flickered open and the room slowly came into focus. You swallowed with difficulty, your dry throat scratching. As you turned your head on the pillow, you saw Travis standing at the window, looking outside. You could hear him mumbling with a low voice, but it was too quiet to hear what he was saying.

Clearing your throat a little first, you croaked, "Hey Daddy."

Travis turned around, a bundle of blankets nestled in his arms. He looked up at you and smiled before looking down again, "Look, Mommy's awake."

He came close to you, leaning slightly so he could place the tiny baby on your chest. You looked down at a pair of large blue eyes blinking up at you.

"This is crazy." You whispered.

Travis grinned, bending his knees so that his face was lined up with yours. He pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead, his stubble grazing your skin, "I am so proud of you, baby. You are amazing."

You sighed, "Thank you for getting here in time, I don't think I could've done it without you, baby." You voice shook.

Travis cleared his throat, his emotions taking over, "You are so strong, you can do anything. You hear me? Anything. And I am so happy to start this new chapter of our lives together." He leaned further, kissing his sons forehead, "Our little family. You, me and Dashiell Kelce."

______________________________________________________________

My show is finished now so I'm back to writing. The requests are piling up but I promise that I'm going to try and get through as many this week as I can! If you want to be on my Taglist, please do let me know!

Taglist @kkrenae @keiva1000

[bullet-prooflove]

4500 Follower Celebration Bingo - The Vet: Rip Wheeler x Reader

Tagging: @readmetosleep @kierawashere01 @Hangmanscoming @1-fuzzy-squirrels @nerdypinupcrystal

Prequel to upcoming September piece Broken - Travis Wheatley

Thrill of the Chase (NSFW) - Rip has always loved the thrill of the chase.

 If You Want Me, You Can Have Me - They say that Rip Wheeler doesn't have a heart.

Stay Tonight - Rip asks to stay the night.

Use Your Words (NSFW) - Rip teases you.

Clover - Rip comforts you.

Rip’s at the Foreman’s House when he hears the gunshots echo over the pasture in the darkness. He’s just uncorked that bottle of that red you like from the winery in town because it’s been over a year since you stole this old cowboy’s heart and he wants to do something special to mark the occasion.

“I’m on my way.” You had promised him only a few minutes earlier when you’d called him. “I just need to check in Artemis.”

Gina’s horse had injured it’s leg during a barrel racing exercise a week ago and you’d been treating her since. Her cottage is less than a mile down the lane from Rip’s residence so he knows it won’t take long for you to arrive.

The instant he hears the two gunshots, something twists in his chest because they’re close, too fucking close. Both his home and Gina’s are on the Dutton’s land so he knows no one would dare go hunting in these fields. He tucks his own gun into the waistband of his jeans before he snatches up the keys to the truck and hurtles out the door.

Gina’s driveway is unusually busy when he pulls up outside her residence. There’s a black SUV he doesn’t recognise parked alongside the stables and your pickup blocks his path, the engine still running, the driver’s door thrown open.

Already he can hear the sounds of scuffle coming from the stable, shadows flicker against the warm illumination as a man curses and wood creaks.

“Touch that fucking horse and I will fucking kill you.” He hears you spit as he swings into the stables, his own gun drawn.

The scene before him is far from the one he expected.

Teal Beck is sagged against the door of Artemis’s stall, cradling his right arm close to his chest as blood jets from his badly broken nose. Dislocated shoulder, Rip assumes as Artemis paces her stall, tossing her head and grinding her teeth.

You’re standing with a Glock clasped in both your hands, finger on the trigger, weapon trained on Beck. There isn’t a single waver in you, your feet are spread apart, shoulders aligned just like they taught you when you signed up for a career in the Army as a miliary veterinarian. You’d done three tours before you resigned your commission and returned to Montana to take over your daddy’s practice.

“He was coming in here to kill the horse.” You tell Rip with a tone that could freeze the rivers of hell.

Of course, you’d go this crazy over a fucking horse. You leave and breathe for the animals under your care, every charge takes a tiny piece of your heart and you’d protect them with your life.

“You need to check on Gina.” You tell him, inclining your head slightly as you keep your eyes Teal. “Where there’s one Beck brother…”

There’s usually another.

Malcolm Beck’s been making his displeasure about his ex-wife known ever since that rodeo journalist had published the article about her come back. They’d all thought she was down and out after being kicked to the curb by him but now she’s back on the circuit, winning for the Yellowstone. She’s been spotted in the company of the rodeo king himself, Travis Wheatley.

It must have pushed every single one of that SOB’s buttons to see she was succeeding without him.

“Go.” You say again, this time more urgently. “I can take care of Teal, but Gina needs help.”

Rip’s already in motion, rushing from the stable as you keep the gun fixed on younger Beck brother.

“You better fucking hope he hasn’t laid a hand on her.” You say to Teal, your finger tightening on the trigger. “Otherwise you won’t live to see another sunrise.”

Teal smiles at you through bloody teeth.

“If that girl ain’t dead yet, she’s gonna wish she was by the time my brother’s finished with her.”

Love Rip? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[bitchiswild]

Rockstar

Huh Yunjin x F! Reader

Warnings:None, Fluff

Word Count: 3k

A/n: Travis Barker and Kourtney Kardashian WHOO???? 🗣️

⋆｡‧₊°♱༺𓆩❦︎𓆪༻♱༉‧₊˚.

Yunjin POV

The energy at my concerts was amazing, filling me with life and excitement. But even in the midst of all that joy, there was a big hole in my heart - the absence of my wife, Y/n. I've been touring for two months, going from state to state to share my music with people. But throughout it all, I've felt like something important was missing - her.

Gosh, I miss her like crazy. It feels like It's been forever since I've seen her sweet smile, held her close, and been intimate with her. I swear, it's almost like I'm going through withdrawal because she's my everything. Even with all these cheering fans and bright stage lights, I can't shake this feeling of longing for her.

She's more than just my better half; she's my muse. Every song I write, every melody I play, it's all thanks to her inspiration. Her absence feels like there's this huge gap in my life that not even the loudest applause can fill. She's my comfort, my spark - being away from her feels like a big chunk of my heart is missing.

I can't stop thinking about the last time I held her close. I ache for her warmth, her presence, her giggles that light up my world. Every day without her feels like forever, and I'm counting down the seconds until I can wrap my arms around her again.

As the tour goes on, every night ends with this achy feeling. Despite the amazing shows and the music, what I miss the most is her laughter, her unwavering support, and that special connection we share. She's not just the missing piece; she's the heart of the whole picture.

"Dude, are you okay?" Chaewon, my bandmate, asked, concern etched on her face.

I let out a sigh, sinking deeper into my thoughts. "Just missing Y/n," I replied, my gaze fixed on the lock screen of my phone displaying a picture of us, captured in a moment of pure laughter.

"Call her, maybe it'll help," Chaewon suggested with a reassuring smile. Taking her advice, I navigated to my contacts, fingers hovering over the familiar entry labeled 'LOML<3'.

The phone rang, and after a few moments, a groggy voice answered on the other end. "Hello?"

"Hi, baby, did I wake you up?" I spoke softly, a hint of guilt tugging at my heart for disturbing her sleep. Checking the time, I realized it was midnight in New York, forgetting the time difference from where I was in California.

Y/n's voice softened, a mix of sleepiness and warmth. "Hey, it's okay. Is everything alright?"

"I'm sorry for calling so late," I apologized, feeling a twinge of regret for not considering the time difference. "I just... I miss you. Can't seem to shake off this feeling, you know?"

There was a gentle chuckle on the other end. "I miss you too, silly. It's okay, hearing your voice is nice. Tell me how's tour going on so far."

And just like that, as I started sharing the mundane yet cherished details of tour and my day on the road, her voice became the remedy for the ache in my heart. Despite the distance, her presence, even through the phone, made everything feel a little lighter, a little brighter.

As I spoke to Y/n, a faint sound of gagging reached my ears, causing a knot of concern to form in my stomach. "Are you okay? Are you feeling sick?" Worry laced my words, not wanting her to endure any discomfort while I was miles away.

"I'm okay, Jen," Y/n reassured me, her voice trying to sound steady despite a trace of unease. "I probably ate something that didn't agree with me earlier. It's nothing serious, promise."

The worry didn't dissipate from my mind. "Are you sure? I can catch the next flight home right now. Your health is more important. I don't want you to be sick without me there."

Y/n's voice held a gentle firmness. "No, Jen, it's okay. You have a concert tomorrow; you can't miss it. I'll be fine, really. It's just a passing thing. Take care of your show, and I'll take care of myself here."

I hesitated, torn between the urge to be by her side and the responsibility of the upcoming concert. "But what if you need something? What if—"

Y/n interrupted, her tone warm and understanding. "I promise I'll call someone if I need help. You focus on your music. I'll take care of myself until you're back."

Reluctantly, I nodded, feeling a pang of helplessness at not being able to rush to her side. "Okay, but if anything changes, if you feel worse or need anything at all, promise me you'll call immediately."

"I promise, Jen," she replied softly. "Just give an amazing concert tomorrow. I'll be here waiting to hear all about it." And with that reassurance, I forced myself to focus on the concert ahead while keeping a watchful eye on my phone, ready to fly back at the slightest hint of need from Y/n.

Y/n's yawn echoed through the phone, prompting me to glance at the time. It was nearing 2 am in New York, and exhaustion seeped into her voice. "Y/n, baby, it's getting late. You should go to sleep," I gently urged, concern evident in my tone.

"But I want to talk to you," she murmured, her words tinged with sleepiness and a hint of longing.

"I promise we'll talk more tomorrow, okay? Get some rest. I love you," I said softly, my love resonating in the tender words that escaped my lips.

"I love you too," Y/n murmured back, the weariness in her voice indicating she was already drifting into slumber.

Reluctantly, I ended the call, my heart feeling heavy with the distance between us. All I wanted was to hold her close, to feel the rhythm of her breathing as she slept beside me. The ache in my chest was palpable, longing for the comfort of her presence.

One Month Later

"Three more months," I whispered to myself, a vow echoing in my mind. Three more months until I could wrap my arms around Y/n again, until I could finally call her home. The countdown began, each passing day marked by the yearning to be back in her embrace, to find solace and warmth in our shared space. Until then, the miles that separated us felt like an eternity, but the promise of reunion kept me going.

"It's been a month already, just two more to go before I'm finally back in Y/n's arms," I muttered to myself, the countdown almost a lifeline in this whirlwind of touring. Despite our daily calls whenever we managed to catch a break, it never felt like enough.

"We've got two more months of tour, Yunjin. Hang in there," Chaewon chimed in, her voice carrying a tone of encouragement.

"I know, but I just want her here. Why didn't she come on tour with us?" I vented, frustration creeping into my tone.

"You know how demanding her job can be," Chaewon explained, trying to soothe my irritation.

"She should just take it easy. I'd take care of her forever," I retorted, feeling a pang of helplessness at not having her close during this extensive tour.

Chaewon leaned in, her expression conveying a sense of understanding. "She's a hard worker and independent. She doesn't want you to carry the load alone. Marriage is about being a team," she said, raising an eyebrow as if to emphasize her point.

Her words struck a chord within me. I nodded in acknowledgment, realizing the truth in her statement. Y/n had always been fiercely independent and dedicated to her career, a trait I admired endlessly. Yet, the longing to have her by my side during this journey was undeniable. The ache of missing her was profound, but Chaewon's reminder of our partnership brought a sense of reassurance, reminding me that love wasn't just about being physically present but also about supporting each other's aspirations and dreams.

"Chaewon, Yunjin, you're on in 5," a member of the backstage crew informed us before hurrying away to attend to other tasks.

"Ready to rock and roll," Chaewon exclaimed, mimicking playing the guitar with exaggerated enthusiasm.

I chuckled at her playful antics. "Let's rock and roll," I humored her, joining in the light-heartedness.

We shared a laugh as we made our way toward the stage. Unbeknownst to Yunjin, a heartwarming surprise was in store for her this evening, orchestrated by Chaewon and Y/n. For the past month, they had been planning this moment. Y/n was going to surprise Yunjin at one of their concerts. Chaewon had discreetly kept Y/n updated on Yunjin's well-being during the tour, and the idea of surprising Yunjin had blossomed from their conversations.

Chaewon suggested the idea of Y/n surprising Yunjin at one of their concerts and offered to purchase the ticket for her. Y/n, touched by the gesture but adamant about not letting Chaewon pay for the ticket, agreed to the surprise plan. And so, here they were, on the brink of the surprise unveiling.

Moments before stepping onto the stage, Chaewon seized the opportunity to confirm the presence of Y/n to their manager. With the affirmative nod from the manager, it was all set. Y/n was seated in the front row, clutching a sign in her hands, eagerly waiting to surprise Yunjin. The anticipation of the heartwarming reunion infused an extra spark of excitement into the upcoming performance.

3rd POV

The buzz of anticipation surged through the stadium as the tour's introduction set the stage ablaze with excitement. Among the sea of eager faces, Y/n anxiously awaited Yunjin's appearance, clutching her sign, which was yet another surprise in store. Though recognized as Yunjin's wife by some fans nearby, the presence of bodyguards, courtesy of Chaewon and their manager, dissuaded any intrusion, allowing Y/n to immerse herself in the electrifying atmosphere.

Surrounded by enthusiastic fans, Y/n reciprocated their waves with a warm smile, acknowledging their recognition. However, her focus was soon captured by the first strum of the guitar, signaling Yunjin's imminent performance. As the stadium erupted into thunderous cheers, Yunjin's voice filled the air, crooning one of her most beloved songs. The crowd, seemingly in perfect sync, sang along with fervor, each lyric resonating throughout the venue.

For Y/n, it was a moment of sheer awe. The rush of emotions flooded back, reminiscent of the times when she and Yunjin had first connected through their shared love for music. The nostalgia of hearing Yunjin's live performance stirred a whirlwind of memories, from their initial meetings to the moments that cemented their bond. The song carried not just melodies but a story of their journey together, sparking a surge of emotions in Y/n's heart.

Lost in the music and the undying adoration from the crowd, Y/n found herself transported back to the beginnings of their love story, reliving the magic of those cherished memories while witnessing Yunjin's electrifying presence on stage.

The electric energy of the performance reached its pinnacle as Yunjin drew closer to the edge of the stage, pouring her heart into the lyrics. As her eyes met Y/n's in the crowd, an unspoken connection sparked, bringing tears of overwhelming emotion to both their eyes. Chaewon, standing beside Yunjin, caught sight of Y/n, acknowledging her with a playful wink, prompting a grateful smile in return for her pivotal role in orchestrating the surprise.

As the first song concluded, Yunjin and Chaewon engaged with the crowd, marveling at the sea of eager faces.

"Wow, so many people tonight!" Yunjin exclaimed, genuinely taken aback by the turnout.

"So many people," Chaewon echoed, sharing the sentiment.

"Thank you all for coming out tonight. I hope you have an amazing time with us," Yunjin expressed her gratitude, her eyes glinting with excitement. Her gaze then shifted to Y/n, a warmth and love evident in her expression.

"And we have a very special guest with us tonight, my wife, Y/n!" Yunjin announced, pointing to the large screen where Y/n's face appeared. The crowd erupted into a thunderous cheer as Y/n waved, a radiant smile lighting up her face.

"Isn't she beautiful, everyone?" Yunjin beamed, her love for Y/n resonating in her words, inciting an even louder cheer from the fans.

Seizing the perfect moment, Y/n lifted up a sign, and the atmosphere crackled with heightened anticipation. The crowd's volume skyrocketed, Chaewon gasped in disbelief, and tears cascaded down Yunjin's cheeks in a torrent of emotions.

On the sign, in bold letters, it read: 'Yunjin, I'm Pregnant!'

Tears flowed freely down Y/n's face, mirroring the ones streaming down Yunjin's cheeks. Without hesitation, Yunjin leaped off the stage and rushed towards Y/n, enveloping her in a tender yet exhilarating hug, careful not to squeeze too tightly in her overwhelming joy. The crowd erupted into a collective roar of excitement, their elation matching the emotions of the two women sharing an immensely intimate and life-altering moment amidst the exhilarating concert atmosphere.

The stadium erupted in a cacophony of cheers and applause as Yunjin, overwhelmed with joy, announced the life-changing news.

"I'm going to be a mom!" she exclaimed into the microphone, her voice filled with excitement and happiness. Without hesitation, she pulled Y/n close, sealing the momentous occasion with a passionate kiss, a celebration of their love and the impending addition to their family.

Breaking away from the kiss, Yunjin gazed into Y/n's eyes, her own sparkling with love and adoration. "I love you so much, and I already love our baby," she declared tenderly, her heart overflowing with emotions. The words reverberated through the crowd, sharing the intimacy and boundless joy of this unforgettable moment with everyone present.

With an air of exhilaration and boundless energy, Yunjin regally returned to the stage, her eyes locking briefly with Y/n, a playful wink passing between them. The glow of their shared secret lingered in the air as Yunjin addressed the crowd once more.

"With this profound news, I've got an endless supply of energy! LET'S HIT IT!" she exclaimed, her voice carrying a contagious enthusiasm that reverberated throughout the stadium.

The band swiftly picked up the rhythm, launching into the next song on their setlist. The pulsating beat and electrifying melodies ignited an even greater fervor among the audience. The crowd, already stirred by the monumental revelation, erupted into a deafening roar, their excitement and anticipation fueling the atmosphere with an unparalleled euphoria.

Yunjin's infectious energy, amplified by the band's lively performance, turned the concert into an unforgettable celebration. Each note played and every lyric sung became an anthem of love, joy, and the thrilling anticipation of the new chapter ahead for Yunjin and Y/n. The energy in the stadium soared, echoing the exhilaration of this momentous occasion, etching this night into the memories of all who were present.

The final song crescendoed, bringing the concert to its euphoric conclusion. Yunjin and Chaewon bid their farewells to the cheering crowd, exchanging appreciative smiles and heartfelt thanks for their unwavering support throughout the show. Meanwhile, Y/n waited in the green room, anticipation thrumming in every heartbeat.

As soon as the concert ended, Yunjin dashed towards the green room, her determination evident as she maneuvered through the bustling crowd, propelled by the sole desire to reunite with Y/n. With an urgent fervor, she entered the room, her eyes instantly seeking out her beloved.

Spotting Y/n standing there, her heart soared, and without hesitation, Yunjin surged forward, enveloping Y/n in a warm embrace. Lifted by an overwhelming surge of emotions, Yunjin lifted Y/n effortlessly, spinning her around in a whirlwind of joy and elation. She set her down gently, their eyes meeting in a silent exchange that conveyed more than words ever could.

Unable to contain their overflowing emotions, Yunjin pulled Y/n into another passionate kiss, the depth of their love and the magnitude of the moment imbuing the kiss with an unspoken promise of a future filled with joy and togetherness. The room seemed to fade away as they immersed themselves in this cherished moment, reveling in the warmth and intimacy of their embrace, sealing the unforgettable night with the most heartfelt display of love.

Their embrace lingered as the weight of their revelation settled in, the enormity of becoming parents washing over them in waves of disbelief and joy.

"I can't believe we're going to be parents," Yunjin sighed, her voice carrying a mix of wonder and amazement.

"I've been wanting to tell you, but I thought surprising you would be even better," Y/n replied, her eyes shimmering with affection as she gently caressed Yunjin's face.

"When did you find out?" Yunjin inquired, curiosity evident in her voice.

"Remember that call we had, and I gagged? I went to the doctor the next day, and she said I was already two months along," Y/n explained, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"So, I knocked you up before I left," Yunjin chuckled, a playful grin lighting up her face.

Y/n playfully slapped Yunjin's arm, sharing in the lighthearted moment. "Yeah, you did." I chuckled.

"Well, I'm so happy and excited. I'm so ready to start this new chapter with you," Yunjin expressed, her voice filled with affection and anticipation.

"So am I," Y/n replied, her gaze filled with unwavering love and excitement, affirming their shared readiness for the journey ahead. In that moment, amidst the laughter and love, they embraced the thrilling prospect of embarking on this incredible journey together, united by the bond of their love and the prospect of welcoming a new life into their world.

“I'M GOING TO BE AN AUNT!!”

“SHUT UP CHAEWON!”

⋆｡‧₊°♱༺𓆩❦︎𓆪༻♱༉‧₊˚.

[fatalitysficbakery]

𓆰♡︎𓆪 NEVER Trust The Love Interest. —

Samantha Carpenter x Black Fem!Y/n

genre: angst | fluff | SMUT.

warnings: listen to 'What a wonderful world' by Louis Armstrong while reading, ghostface!sam, sub!sam, soft dom!y/n, praise, oral (reader giving), slight!fingering, soft ‘reuinited’ smut, sub worship.

synopsis: legacies make franchises.

↳ 𓆰 Fatalitysficbakery navigation menu 𓆪.

↳ 𓆰 Fatalitysficbakery multifandomed &&’ oc menu #2 𓆪.

❦ ⌫ ❦

An unsettling silence plagued the halls, so quiet you could hear a mouse squeak, but who could blame anyone in the complex for leaving after what had happened in only two weeks.

Nobody wanted to believe it was happening again until the bodies in the morgue began to pile up, and the first mask was found next to the third victim, it was almost a taunt. No...A greeting.

Ghostface was back in business.

The Carpenter sisters were on immediate alert, but it didn't take long for someone to throw a big party, the perfect opportunity for new victims, and for some unknown fucking reason no one seemed to be concerned with the outcome that Samantha and Tara could sense a mile away like clockwork.

Tara stayed home, luckily. But that's not who Sam was worrying about right now as her phone went to voicemail for the 20th time that night, Sam was quick to grab her keys. There were many ways this could go south but with her being radio silent? Sam couldn't care less about the consequences than the idiots that had willingly gone despite the risks. On her way out the door, she texts Chad, Tara, and Mindy to warn them of her whereabouts, gun holstered and knife in her boots.

Never too armed. There was a mace and taser in her purse for backup.

𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎

The scene was a bloodbath, the moment you entered the place there were bodies and puddles of red as far as the eye could see and Samantha was quick to unholster the gun resting on her hip, there wasn't a lot she was afraid of anymore, hell blood had become so normal to her, she stepped over the bodies like they weren't there.

If anything everything in sight had become invisible to her eyes, her thoughts solely on the one person she was hellbent on saving, on protecting. Nearing the staircase, she hears distant voices, and murmurs.

'C'mon, Y/n. Not today.'

Rounding the corner, her heart nearly beat out of her chest when the voices only got louder just for to realize.

'I see trees of green, red roses too..'

She grunts a hiss of air out when her eyes land on an old stereo. With her jaw set, she pushes on, determination filling her gaze like it had only done when Tara was the one who needed her protection. Her head cocking slightly to the side when a new gaze meets hers; pointing the gun directly between the males eyes, she crouches next to the figure.

"Travis. Where's Y/n?" She asked quietly, the sight of her bestfriends boyfriend hidden in the same room she'd gone into putting her on high alert. There was blood on his collar. She scoffs when he doesn't answer. "Trav, c'mon. I need to find her. Keep her safe, that's what you want, no?"

Travis trembles from his spot on the floor, and Sam spots a puddle forming beneath him. The empathy in her eyes left just as fast as it had come, eyes moving down his neck to his hands; Bloodied.

Sam clicks her tongue, standing up from her spot next to him.

"Or at least, that's...that's what you should want, Travis. I mean look at you, lying in wait while your girlfriend gets possibly murdered. Jesus...That's cold-hearted."

Travis squirms from his spot on the floor, eyes frantic and body trembling like a fish out of water. Samantha just watches as he grows more inconsolable, attention on him only diverting when she turns to find a cloaked figure.

Stu's mask on their face.

𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎

Samantha barely manages to dodge the knife aiming for her abdomen, stepping out of the way at the last minute, her movements fluid and clean as she does like it's a choreographed dance she'd obsessively learned the steps to.

Her strangely calm demeanor shifts slightly when she looks back at Travis, who only seems...confused.

"You really are a little bitch, Travis. That's what's sad. You date a close friend of a Carpenter sister...but you never thought twice, did you? Don’t you know the rules?"

Holstering her gun, she sighed and kneeled down next to the bed while the cloaked killer worked on dragging Travis to the middle of the room, both his kneecaps had been shot out, rendering the poor thing immobile and utterly useless.

Her fingers brushed against the mask, a shudder running down her spine at the feel of sheer power beneath her thumbs, a legacy she was tired of running from, one she'd been so desperate to get rid of. One that she was now even more hellbent and desperate on keeping alive.

'Do it, Sam. Put it on. You've earned this' Billy's voice plays in her head like an echoing cave, and with every fear the old Samantha held in her heart of hearts...She uses it to drive her; Billy's knife in her boot and his mask in her hand.

Her lips quiver the moment she bites the bullet and puts it on again, this time...to be used as her father intended it to.

'Atta girl, Sammy. Now. Do me proud, kid. Flood this fucking town RED!'

"Sam."

A voice cuts through the hallucinations, snapping Sam out of her stupor, she looks up at the cloaked figure standing over Travis, nodding to herself; a confirmation to herself that there was no going back after this. Standing up, she takes her spot next to the person in Stu's mask, cutting on the voice changer, she feels a spark traveling down her spine, breathing it all in.

Samantha Carpenter meets Samantha Loomis.

"There are rules, Travis. And you broke one of the biggest. Now the sad thing is...I can see it in your eyes. Shifty. Maybe I was wrong, maybe you do wanna save Y/n. Is that what you want? To save her?"

The tears that gathered in his eyes bring a smile to Samantha's face from underneath her mask, neck craning to the side, her eyes meeting her partners just as Travis finally whimpers out a pathetic pleading "Yes".

"You wanna tell him? You do the honors."

Stepping back, Samantha allows them to the front, their voice disguised as well when speaking, a crackling robotic tone sounding through. "It'd be my pleasure. I've really been waiting all night for this."

Dragging his body to a sitting position, they go to lock the door, the radio being turned up just a tad louder to drown out the incessant whimpering, squatted beside him now, they slowly begin removing the plastic Halloween mask.

Travis's eyes widen the moment he's aware of what's underneath.

The tears, oh how they freely fall down the apples of his cheeks.

❦ ⌫ ❦

The radio, it repeats, and it repeats, keeping time with his rapid heartbeats. She straddles his lap, knife grazing his skin, forcing him to look in his eyes.

The tears, oh how they freely fall down the apples of his cheeks.

'I see trees of green, red roses too...I see them bloom for...'

"Y/n." He breathes out shakily.

'Me and you.'

With the voice changer resting underneath her lips, her knife, she nods, pulling a gun. Stu's berretta, from her pocket, whistling quietly.

"And I think to myself..." She leans in closer, a soft smirk curving onto her lips, "What a wonderful world. Hi baby. You know what this is right? Don't worry, I'm not gonna hurt you. We're just talking, right? Just talking. Don't cry."

Samantha's jaw sets watching the scene, her body itching for a kill. Specifically this one.

"What is this? Huh?" She repeats, waving the beretta at him like a nice greeting, or in this case, maybe a solemn goodbye.

"The...The gun you shot me with? I-I don't know, Y/n please...W-why?"

"I'm getting there. Patience. I mean, you're not wrong. I did shoot you with it, but you know...I also shot that bitch you were cheating with. Junie? Her favorite scary movie was weak. The nun. Ugh. No. This? is Stu Macher's gun."

"J-junie's dead?"

"As a bitch, Travis. As a fucking bitch. You know, Sammy's right. You did break a rule. Two actually."

"One, you cheated and told Mindy of all people. My sister, really? You never could handle your fucking liquor." Rising up, she points the gun at his thigh and pulls the trigger, relishing the way his screams align with the music. "You trusted the love interest. Sammy?"

'I see skies of blue and clouds of white...'

On cue, Samantha walks ahead of Y/n, kissing her cheek as she does so, Billy's knife tightly gripped in her hand.

'The bright blessed day...The dark sacred night...'

"I guess you're even, Trav. I mean, she was cheating on you too. Bestfriend? You could say we're close. The only problem is..." Samantha drops down into his lap, but there's nothing erotic about the plans she has for him, her knife to his neck; she removes the old mask, a shit-eating grin on her face, "Only one of you cheated with a goddamned Loomis."

'And I think to myself...'

Without a second word, his throat is slit, and she blacks out. His body riddled with stab wounds when it was all over she could hear Y/n's heeled boots against the floor, looking back to see Stu's berretta pointed at Travis's head though he'd taken his last breath seconds before; smoothly Samantha rolled out of the way, allowing Y/n to deliver a swift shot to the head.

'What a wonderful world...'

𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎

After all was said and done, Y/n leaned her forehead against Samantha's taking a deep breath at the next steps, her eyes staring deeply into hers, "I'm ready."

"Baby, we...we don't gotta." Sam reasons, but she shakes her head, a bittersweet smile spread across her cheeks, she whispers to Sam, eyes glossed over with tears. "I won't die. I'll be fine. It's for you, I'll do it for you."

"Are you sure? Completely?"

"Completely."

There's a replica knife, one of Billy's that Y/n had crafted herself, one she'd stabbed Junie with before shooting her, one she'd stabbed Samantha's ex-boyfriend with, and you know the people that came to the party, it was easy to do so when not many dared to arrive due to the restart of the killings and being the only one with a gun helped too, of course.

She passes it into Samantha's gloved hand.

"Do it. And after you do it, I need you to go. Okay? Go, and don't call me. I will call you. Understood?"

"Understood." Samantha takes a deep breath. It had been all too effortless to kill Travis, to kill Gale but the thought of hurting you only slightly was one she hated.

"Now, Sam, NO- AH, FUCK!" As soon as Y/n cries out, she's pulled into Samantha's arms, careful to mind the abdomen wound she'd just given her girlfriend, shushing the poor thing.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry...Shh. Shh, I got you."

As much as Y/n wants to hold on tighter, she just whispers one word in Samantha's ear, sliding off her cloak and handing it to Samantha to get rid of. "Go."

Samantha nodded, pecking Y/n's lips before grabbing the cloak and ducking out of the backdoor they stood by, leaving Y/n to call the police, though she didn't know just how far Y/n would go to protect her until she heard a pained yell inside and a gunshot and as if she could sense Sam's concern, another "GO" is yelled out from inside.

Sam goes.

𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎

"She's gone, Sam. She's gone. There's no true love for a Loomis, remember your true love. Pick up the knife, Sammy." His voice grows increasingly aggressive, brows knitted together waving the infamous dagger in front of my face, like bone to dog and it almost physically hurts to not reach my hands out, wrap my fingers around the handle -- Let the electricity liven me.

Her being mentioned is the only thing that breaks my attention away, and I can see his face fall into something blank when he realizes I wasn't budging on my stance, it isn't until I wake up with a jolt, looking at the clock and very predictably my phone, itching to see if she'd called or messaged.

She hadn't.

It wasn't until that afternoon that I heard from her, waiting with bated breaths to see if she was still breathing, if we'd gone too far and she was a part of the carnage, the gunshot still rang fresh as day in my head, her voice the only thing to cut through the thoughts, through my father's taunting. I could hear him now, there was no love to be truly had regarding what we were, but I refused to let him be right. Not when it came to her.

"Spare key. Earth to my beautiful girlfriend?"

I think my jaw goes slack, my lips slightly parting themselves and I'm almost in denial. I'd almost let my father ruin love for me, and though I hadn't budged, that moment of dread I felt when I considered the possibility of her having died ran so deeply that it was almost like seeing a ghost when she's finally within a foot or two in front of me, that familiar cheeky smile stretching from ear to ear.

God, she's as beautiful as I remember and though it's only been a mere half a day apart I find myself scanning her from head to toe, analyzing and trying to scope out if any of the little details that she was made up of had changed; To my relief, the only things out of place are the stab wound near her side, and the cast on her wrist which must've been the beretta's doing.

Other than that...It was her, it was my lady that stood in front of me.

↳

"Oh thank fuck. You're alive." Samantha's hands find my waist so naturally it feels like it's instinct for her, to pull me into an embrace without the slightest thought to it. I can feel her body shudder, eyes pricking with tears; She squeezes me so tight I have to tap her a few times to let her know her hold is a bit too strong, and even then she seems reluctant, as if I've just dealt her a...disrespectful request.

"Not for long if you keep squeezing me like this, sweetheart. I shot myself in the arm, hit nothin' vital. Again there's nothing I wouldn't do to see you get out of this without being caught. Best damn Ghostface there ever was. Y'know that right?" I can't stop staring, though I'd never been able to, not since we'd been friends. Sleepovers almost always ended with us talking about everything and nothing while staring into one another's eyes until the moon made way for the sun.

She nods, but I can tell she's wary and I take no time to bring her into my arms, brushing her hair from her face, a small whisper of a "Hey" spoken through the silence to hush her worries. "I'm alive, okay? Wouldn't leave my favorite girl alone."

"You could've been seriously hurt." Sam nuzzles herself against me, arms gripping around my waist protectively as if she thought I might disappear into thin air.

"But I didn't and if I did? It would've been damn worth it, I don't regret a damn thing." I'm sure of this, I know it to be true. I bring my hand up to her cheek, keeping it there until I'm sure she trusts that it's real, that she's real. I hear her chuckle but there's zero humor behind the sound, it breaks my heart to see her so scared when she whimpers, letting go and allowing herself to be picked up and carried upstairs to her bedroom relenting like she'd never hesitated.

We climb the stairs in a comfortable yet tense silence, making our way to Sam's bedroom. I push the door open with my foot and gently kick it closed all the same.

"Do you trust me?" I ask, sitting her on the bed and coming to take place between her legs, hands cupping her face. I tilt her chin up to look directly into her chocolate-brown gaze.

It's a brief moment before I hear her voice again, I forget myself within one smooth motion, my right hand moving to her lips and a kiss pressed upon the back and if that isn't enough, her words press their own soft kisses to my ears. "I think you might be the only one aside from my sister that I trust right now, Y/n."

Lying her back on the bed, I feel myself aching in ways no one has ever made me ache and I hadn't even touched her yet. She was just that good. I chased the high every time. "Then let me take care of you."

Standing over her, I reached for the hem of her shorts, only hesitating on my movements just to gauge her reactions and make sure this was okay. She had this look that could get her anything she ever wanted and when she flashed it at me I knew to do exactly that.

Those pretty little eyes of hers, she gave me that stare and I was turned a slave for her love, she had me in only one night and she still had me now.

She was always so reluctant to be vulnerable, to allow herself something so human. No one could blame her, she'd gone through a lot to get here. I see it in her though. That fighter. — She still deserved to let those defenses down every now and then and I was more than honored that I'd become trusted with such realities in which Sam just got to be Sam.

"I gotta hear you before I go any further, baby. Speak up for me?"

The poor thing's words must've been caught in her throat for a second or two but I allowed her the chance to gather herself before my lips were on her inner thigh, I swear I did but I know that if I were a lesser woman my self-control would've been stripped the before she uttered a damn word. "Just...touch me."

Now that I didn't need to be told twice.

I think one of the most fascinating things about Samantha is her power to seduce and addict, and she had me absolutely sprung. My lips ghost over her thighs before actually meeting the skin. Call me slow but I loved seeing her reactions and keeping myself between her legs at all times, letting her know how appreciated she truly was.

She looks down at me, her abs taut as I bring up the tank top she's wearing, exposing her muscled physique to my hungry eyes. That dark hooded stare is intense on me, and it's a damn shame she has to work tomorrow. I'd be here all night if I could.

My lips had wandered everywhere, neglecting Samantha and themselves while straying away from its intended target until finally, we'd both had enough. She lets out a frustrated whine and I'm too far gone to keep denying myself so I settle our collective woes when I wrap my lips around her bud, her body flinching only to end up running further into my tongue. One hand gripping her thigh in a firm hold.

I bury myself within the temple that is Samantha Carpenter's body, her slick coating my lips, my cheeks, my nose. Drowning in the scent and taste of her all I feel is a simple man's greed. Right now I am that simple man, and I have only one thing on my mind.

Making her sing. I always told her she had a beautiful voice.

Her moans egg me on, legs hoisted up on my shoulders. Her gaze is still locked in on me heavy, and when I pull away for air I can see a small hint of disappointment. "You seem disappointed. Have I disappointed you, my love? Don't be afraid. Speak your mind."

"You're an assho-" I shush her with my lips, giving her a taste of the liquid heaven that rests between her thighs, a moan slips out of those beautiful lips and the sound gets me high. I pull back, my mind back in that simple man's place as I lower myself back between her thighs. My tongue finds her slit and runs the length, revelling in the way she shudders each time.

Once upon a time, I told her my favorite thing was making out with her. I didn't clarify that I meant that in every sense of the word my mouth engaged in a heated makeout session with Sam's cunt. I'm not ashamed to admit it but after the night I had that ended with my arm in a sling, this felt like a reward. I'd gotten to the finish line. My prize was in front of me, and I was happy to take it. More than.

It wasn't long before I recognized those telltale signs that meant she was close to climax. The way her eyebrows knitted and she bit down on her lip harshly trying not to show just how good she was feeling, as she attempted to keep some semblance of that signature Samantha stubbornness; She failed miserably again and again. It was amusing to watch, and I was more than willing to...but granting her the serenity of hiding in the end was something that was completely off the table.

I let two of my fingers graze the edge of her hole, eyeing her reaction when I plunge the two deeply into her pretty pussy. If I wasn't so occupied I think I could've smirked a little.

The reaction this garner is as precious as it is delicious. Her legs squeezed themselves around my neck, her hands gripping the sheets and her back arched, eyes squeezed shut as her orgasm wracked through her body.

Her taste is something I couldn't quit if I tried, and I had no intention to. No, in fact, I locked my lips around her, fingers pumping in and out with her cum coating my tongue. Every little drip came from paradise and god was it heavenly.

And listen to that melody in which she sings my name.

"Y/n...B-baby, I can't-"

Fucking beautiful.

𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎

"Do you think we could ever live a normal life?" She asks while her girlfriend lathers her hair up with shampoo, sitting behind her in the clawfoot bathtub. She can still see flashes of the carnage they left behind and she wonders just how much of her father she'd absorbed from the real-life cases to the movies her friends liked to binge repeatedly, and now she was continuing his legacy. A killer.

Y/n can practically see the overthinking inner battle Sam is having, and she immediately stops her movements. She pulls her in, one arm wrapped securely around her waist and the other tilting her head up to face her. She presses a brief but sweet, gentle kiss to her lips. Her forehead is against Sam's when they pull away.

"I'm gonna be honest, my love. I don't know. But what I do know is that I'm damn well gonna fight for one for us. Do you hear me? I want you to fight too. I...need you to fight too."

Her voice cracks on her last words until she feels two hands grabbing hers. Sam's eyes move over her and it's like she's falling in love with her girlfriend all over again. "Hey. I never said I was giving up."

Y/n stops in her tracks, taking a deep breath and nodding in agreement. "You didn't..."

Sam shakes her head, a smile slowly crawling onto her lips. She leans in to kiss Y/n again, head back against hers. "I didn't."

𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎

A/N: Listened to Fiona Apple and Cowboy Carter high while I wrote this. 10/10 would recommend.

[captainremmington-13]

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖆𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖋 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖍

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖎𝖝

show!Luke Castellan x daughter of thanatos!reader

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own the image above or any of Rick Riordan’s characters/world-building.

⚠️Warnings⚠️: swearing, slight angst, mentions of parental neglect

A/N: let the dark!couple arc begin :)

You and Luke were in Elysium for a whole month. 

After your first kiss, Luke immediately asked you to be his girl. And of course, you said yes.

Every resident of Camp Half-Blood knew of your union by the campfire that night. You weren’t exactly sure how, but you suspected that Aphrodite’s children had noticed the sudden change in your dynamic. They had a reputation for spreading gossip like wildfire. 

Most of your fellow demigods were stunned by the new development, save for the other residents of the Hermes Cabin. 

“We saw it coming from miles away,” Travis Stoll had told you at dinner one night, giving you and Luke a cheeky grin. “The way you looked at him and the way he followed you around made it obvious.”

“Yeah,” his brother Connor agreed. “Luke’s usually pretty tough on everyone else, but he’s so soft with you.”

They both proceeded to make obnoxious kissing noises at you, making Luke groan loudly and bury his face in his hands. You had just laughed, and leaned your head against his shoulder. 

Being with Luke had heightened your spirits immensely. No longer did you appear stoic and un-phased. You laughed, smiled, and socialized with campers, satyrs, and nymphs alike. It surprised them, and some of them were still afraid of you at first, but they warmed up to you eventually. You felt more accepted than ever.

Sure, some people openly disliked your relationship. They said you weren’t good enough for your boyfriend. That you were like a bad omen, and you’d just bring him pain and suffering. That he would be better off with a child of Aphrodite, or Athena, or anyone else but you. 

It didn’t bother you a lot. In fact, you only told Luke about it because you found it amusing.

He was not amused. 

He’d pulled the people who slandered your relationship aside and threaten to target them during the next Capture the Flag game. The negative remarks stopped immediately after.  

Luke was the best boyfriend you could’ve ever asked for. He was attentive, sweet, and protective. He made it clear that he adored you, and only you. You still trained vigorously together, but it was much more fun. Besides, no matter if you won or lost, you were rewarded with a kiss. 

Everything was perfect.

Then, the gods had to go and fuck it up.

.

.

.

“Where in Hades have you been?”

Luke winced at your sharp tone. You hadn’t meant to sound upset, you were simply worried that he had vanished after the campfire instead of meeting you back at Cabin 11. 

He stepped towards you and took your hand.

“We need to talk. Somewhere more private.”

As he lead you off of the porch of Cabin 11 and towards the woods, your heart pounded. Was he mad at you? Had you done something wrong?

After walking for awhile, Luke halted. He was still gripping your hand, as if he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go. 

He turned towards you, and in the silver moonlight, you could see that his eyes glittered with anger. 

You reached up to cup his cheek, and he leaned into your touch. “What’s wrong?”

Luke sighed. “I just got visited by my fath-Hermes.” 

You stared at him. “You’re fucking kidding.” 

“I’m not. He offered me a quest.”

You felt your anger begin to boil. After ignoring Luke for basically his whole life, Hermes decided to just waltz in pretending to care about him by giving him a chance to be a hero? 

“I’m going to kill him.”

It wasn’t just Luke who had become incredibly protective. You would become a bit very violent when someone crossed or hurt your boyfriend, just as he would for you.

“Angel,” Luke sighed. “That’s not how it works.”

“I know, I know. Sorry, I just got upset on your behalf.”

He gave you a small smile, but it quickly faded.  He let go of your hand, which made you frown slightly. “The quest I was given is simple: steal a Golden Apple from The Garden of Hesperides.”

You racked your brain, trying to recall anything you knew about the Garden. “Is that the tree that Gaea gifted Zeus when he married Hera?”

“That’s the one.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “This seems like a pointless quest. You gain nothing from it, you’re not solving any problems or saving anyone. Besides, didn’t Heracles do the exact same thing millennia ago?”

Luke’s jaw clenched, and you could tell he was irritated. “Yeah, yeah he did.”

“So you’re going to turn Hermes down, right?“

He looked away from you. Even though he was silent, you knew exactly what he was thinking.

“No, Luke, you can’t do this! It makes no sense, you wouldn’t gain anyth-“

“Yes, I would!” Luke insisted. “I haven’t gotten a real chance to prove myself in all three years I’ve been at camp!”

“You don’t need to prove anything to anyone!” you exclaimed, not caring if you were being too loud. “Luke, you’re already an incredible fighter and a respected leader. What else could you possibly want?”

“Glory.”

“Then wait for a better opportunity. Wait for the Oracle to give you a real quest, don’t just take orders from your deadbeat, asshole of a father.”

“Angel, listen to me.” Luke’s tone was firm but gentle. “I want to do this. Not because of my  father. I want a chance to do something that people will talk about, something that will prove once and for all that I’m not to be messed with.”

You looked at him, and you knew he had made up his mind.

“You’re not gonna change your mind, are you?”

“No.”

You stepped towards him, taking hold of his forearm softly. “Fine. Then I’m going with you.”

“Angel-“

“It’s not up for debate. We’re a team, Castellan, and I’m your girl. I’m not letting you do this alone.”

Luke put a hand on your waist, the other one reaching up to brush the hair out of your face. “Okay. You can come.”

“Good.”

He let out a quiet chuckle, placing a kiss on your forehead. “You’re so stubborn.”

“So are you,” you retorted, resting your head against his chest. Your eyes fluttered shut, the feeling of fatigue beginning to set in.

“You tired?” he asked, petting your hair gently.

“Yeah,” you murmured. “Let’s go back to the cabin.”

As you laid in bed that night, wrapped in Luke’s embrace, you realized that you should’ve fought harder to make him deny the quest. It really wasn’t worth it for him to risk his life for some stupid golden apple.

But he was hellbent on going. And you knew you couldn’t stop him. So, the next-best thing was to join him.

After all, when you fought side-by-side, you never failed. 

________________________________________________

“Are you two absolutely sure about this?”

Chiron stood at the top of Half-Blood Hill, the shade provided by Thalia’s tree casting a shadow on his face. 

“Yes,” you and Luke said in unison. 

Both of you were carrying medium-sized backpacks full of supplies needed for your journey. You had each packed a canteen of nectar, four squares of ambrosia, a change of clothes, all of the cash you owned (which wasn’t a lot), and some drachmas in case you needed to send an Iris message. 

Because it was July, you decided to wear a light, breathable outfit. You wore black cargo shorts and a loose grey tank top, accompanied by your trusty black leather boots. The grommet belt strapped around your waist held your weapon, which was in its condensed form.

You hoped you wouldn’t need to use it until you arrived at The Garden of Hesperides, but you knew that was extremely unlikely. 

Monsters were bound to come after you. They always did.

Chiron sighed. You hated when he had that “I have a bad feeling about this” look on his face, it made you feel extremely pessimistic. 

“Should you need anything, send us an Iris message. We will expect you to return within two weeks. If you do not, we will send a satyr to find you.”

“We’ll be fine,” Luke said, but it seemed like was trying to convince himself instead of Chiron. “But thanks.”

Chiron nodded. He then turned his attention to you.

“I am very proud of the hero you are becoming.   I know you have not had the easiest childhood, but nevertheless, you have persevered and become a strong fighter and a crucial member of Camp Half-Blood. I believe in you, and I believe you will succeed. But if you do not, that does not define your worth.”

You resisted the urge to tear up. Chiron had been consistently kind to you, even it felt like nobody would give you the time of day. 

“Thank you,” you said quietly. “But we will succeed, I promise you.”

Chiron gave you a warm smile. “Good luck,” he said, looking at both you and Luke. “Be brave, but avoid recklessness. And most importantly, take care of each other.”

Luke nodded. “I’ll protect her with my life.”

You smiled at him. “And I’ll do the same for you.” 

Chiron gave you a nod. “Safe travels, demigods.” 

With that, Luke took your hand, and lead you down the hill past the camp border. He glanced over his shoulder for a brief moment, his eyes wandering towards Thalia’s tree. He looked nervous, but determined. 

Determined to prove himself, and determined to keep you safe.

No matter what it took.

taglist: @orionspaperwork, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @marvelescvpe, @lovingjasontoddmakemewanttocry, @louweasleymalfoy, @stars4birdie, @stargurl-battleship, @daughterofthemoons-stuff

Thank you for reading! Pls let me know what you think in the comments!!!

We aren’t given much info about Luke’s quest in the PJO books, I’ll be making up a lot of the things that happen during it. Because of this, it make take me a little bit longer to write Chapters Seven and Eight.

Let me know in the comments if you want to be added to the taglist!

[solitude4chiron]

Besties, right?

Miles 1610 x Black!fem!Artist reader

A/n: I know I’m wild for promising y’all this fic and just now dropping it 🤦🏾‍♀️ I had some crazy writers block ngl but I’m back 🙏🏾 I’ll be debating if I want to do a pt.2 for this 🫣

🎧- Love Galore- SZA, Travis Scott

Sometimes you questioned you and Miles’s relationship. Not in a bad way though. He was the sweetest boy you knew, at times he was too sweet, but that was just how he showed he cared. You both had been friends since elementary. Yeah, maybe you shared a kiss under the slide, or used to crush on each other, but you both left that in the past. There was no feelings there anymore..Right?

Millimeters 🙄: “You eat today y/n”

“nah 🥲 I’m sketching rn I’ll eat later”

Millimeters 🙄: “whatchu want for dinner 🤦🏾‍♂️”

“nothing”

Millimeters 🙄: “ight gimme a minute”

He always did little stuff like that, but after he’d always clarify it was in a best friend way, just incase.

Before you could get back to drawing there was a knock at your window, and a boy with a bag of food in his hand.

“Miles I told you I wasn’t hungry.” You said with a bit of a frown on your face. You couldn’t help but feel guilty when people did stuff for you, even if they didn’t mind.

“You said you weren’t hungry but you be lying soo…” He came into your room and closed the window, placing the food on your desk and flopping back on your bed.

“So what’s been up witchu y/n? You still talking to that boy from art?”

“I was never talking to him, we literally just sit next to each other in class.” You shrugged turning your back to him at your desk. He came over your shoulder to look at your sketchbook.

“You know you can take breaks right? Arts supposed to be fun.”

“I know, I’m tryna get this scholarship.”

“You will. Just chill with me for now.” He responded, closing your sketch book and getting his food out of the bag.

You both started eating and talking together, completely ignoring the time. Miles was right though, art had been consuming you at this point. He just didn’t want you to lose the fun in being creative.

“Anyways, I got us some tickets to a concert, guess who?” He looked up at you with a faint smirk and a mouthful of food.

“Miles you didn’t have to.”

“But I did. Now guess.” He responded quickly.

“I dunno? You really didn’t have to though..”

“Oh well, guess you’ll see who when we go on Friday.” He shrugged and smiled. “Just know you’ll love it.”

For some reason the room had a bit of tension in it, you couldn’t put your finger on why, and you wondered if miles felt the same way.

“Who you lookin cute for?” He said quickly, still looking down at his plate.

“Whatchu mean I’m just wearin pajamas?”

“Oh. You just look really pretty.” He said looking up from his plate with a faint smile.

“Mhm, thank you miles.” You chuckled a little, playing with your food with your fork. “Why you really come over here?” You said, looking up from your plate this time.

“What I can’t see my bestie?” He laughed, raising an eyebrow.

“No like…nevermind.” You said shaking your head a bit.

“You said you was hungry so I brung you food.” He shrugged quickly.

You genuinely couldn’t tell if miles had feelings for you or not. Honestly he acted like this to everyone, not on this scale obviously but he was a sweet person. Your brain was scrambled at this point, anybody looking at you could tell you had something on your mind.

He reached for his phone and sighed, the time was 12pm and his mom wanted him to come home.

“I gotta go, it’s getting mad late.”

“I wanted to ask you..nevermind it’s nothing.” You quickly said, sighing a little.

He got up from your bed and leaned down to press a kiss on your cheek.

“Stop overthinking it y/n.” He said before climbing out of your window.

You sat on your desk chair frozen in place. What just happened? What did he mean by that? A heavy sigh left your lips as you fell back on your bed and clutched your pillow in your arms.

A text pinged through your phone before you fell asleep.

Millimeters 🙄: “Hope you enjoyed the food :)”

“Night miles ❤️”

[spideycatt]

Cat & Mouse Part 2.5 || MM x F!READER

Synopsis:

You see Miles at a party after a mishap

Now playing:

Yea, I said it // Rhianna, Astrothunder // Travis Scott, Slow Motion // Don Toliver

Warnings: Cussing, BLACK reader, aave (Ik its in like every fic i write but its how i talk dont come for me), partying, bumping n grinding on the dance floor oooo, Mentions of drinking, Use of n-word

Not rlly warnings/ A.N: Mentions of Gwendolyn Stacy🙄, the dancing scene popped up in my head after listening to the linked song on repeat so ofc i wrote about it!!, Just a lil sumn sumn before i close off this lil series

“Oh my GOD Miles just shut the fuck up! I dont care if you and that bitch Gwen got something goin on because you’re not my nigga! Everyones right. Im not gon trip over you and whatever hoes you might have because obviously- this ain’ gon work. I’m over here stressing over finding a new roommate, I’m not gonna stress over someones who’s not my nigga, too.” You scream, staring at Miles as he stood in your doorway, both of you breathing heavily from raising your voices. You shook your head as you slam the door in his face, making sure to give him a pointed look before it shut.

You sigh at the memory of you and Miles’ fight from two days prior. He hadn’t come back to talk to you, and that only made you feel worse for slamming the door in his face like that. But it was true. You two weren’t dating, so you wouldn’t think it over too much. Hence why you were at a some 90’s themed party with your friend right now.

(“You need to bring someone home! Forget about Mr. Lame out there. Have some fun!”

“Girl what? I’m not even thinking bout boys right now.”)

“I’m gonna go get us some drinks! Remember what I said- let loose!”

You nod your head at her, nodding your head to the sound of Travis Scott bouncing off the walls. Which, wasn’t very 90’s, but as long as you were dressed up did it really matter?

You start walking to see where your friend went, but got stopped by someone grabbing your waist. You whip your head around to see who had the guts to touch you like that, and was met with a random guy you’ve seen around school. ‘Kinda cute.’

“Wanna dance, baby?”

You cringe inwardly at the nickname, being so used to Miles saying it to you. ‘You’re literally here to forget about him. One dance won’t hurt!’

Your friend comes back as soon as he starts tugging you away, you shrug at her as she gives you a questioning look.

You both move to the make-shift dance floor as Let’s chill by Guy starts playing. His hands on your hips as you sway your bodies to the music. You were getting really into the song, you were caught by surprise when you look up and see none other than Miles, staring at you two from across the room like he wanted to kill the guy behind you. You roll your eyes, continuing to dance on the boy behind you, when you felt him get pushed off you suddenly. You whip your head around for the second time tonight to see Miles and the guy almost chest to chest.

“Dude what the fuck?!” The guy yelled over the music, looking up at Miles with furrowed brows.

“Hands off my girl.” Miles quipped, looking down at the man with a mean look on his face, making the guy quickly back off.

“You’re crazy.” The boy huffed out, putting his hands up in surrender, quick to run off into the crowd.

Miles turned to look at you, grabbing your hips and pulling you close with a smirk.

“Miles, what the fuck.”

“Hey, Moss. I missed you.” He said, trying to lean in for a kiss, but you put a finger over his mouth.

“You dont get to ‘Hey, Moss,” me right now. Is that a durag on your head? Who the fuck did your hair?” You question rapidly, pushing his hands off you.

“Chill, baby,” he whispered in your ear, placing his hands back on your hips, and kissing down your neck. “My homegirl did them yesterday.”

“I don’t like that.”

“I knew you wouldn’t. Thats why I did it.” He smirked, spinning you around to hold you from behind. ‘Typical.’

“Y’know ma I like this style on you. You really turning me on right now.” He grabbed your hips and moved them along with his, dancing to the song currently playing.

“Don’t think you can make me forget about you and Gwen.”

He sighed in your ear, throwing his head back as he grinds into you. “I already told you baby, it wasn’t like that. She had a thing for me, and I fucked up by not putting her in her place. You know I only want you, ma.”

“No. I don’t know, Miles. You out here letting girls touch on you and do your hair ‘n shit. And that’s making this very hard to believe.” You spat, glaring at no one in particular.

“You’re so sexy when you mad, ma.”

You stay silent at that, slowly bringing one hand up to wrap around the back of Miles’ neck, and putting the other hand over his, which stayed on your hip.

“So do you forgive me baby?” He muttered, rubbing his thumb over your jean skirt.

“Why would I forgive you if we’re not even together?” You counter, tilting your head to the side.

“Oh it’s like that?” He raised a brow, mouthing over your neck.

“Yup.”

“Lets make it official then, yea? Let me be yours. And you can be mine. Just mine.”

“You’d better to tell your ‘homegirl’ to keep her hands out ya hair if I say yes.”

“When you say yes. Y’know you can’t act like this forever.” He turned you back around and smirked down at you, making your tummy fill with butterflies.

“Forget you.” You kiss your teeth, looking away from him as he spreads a hand over your ass cheek.

“Nah. I know you want me, too. Así que dime, Moss. Whats up with you?” (so tell me)

“Ok, ok. Yea.” You sigh, pressing yourself against Miles, hugging his middle and resting your head against his chest.

“What was that baby?” He said smugly, rubbing his hands up and down your sides.

“Don’t make me change my mind, Miles.”

“Fiesty.”

kuett.