#yeah if a fucking ten year old is just hanging out in a place where you’ve been told is home to EXTREMELY TORTURED SOULS

[reidrum]

hit me baby one more time | s.r

pairing: spencer reid x fem!bau!reader

a/n: i have no explanation for this i just really want spencer to fuck me in a mini skirt. this was also fueled by me listening to baby one more time on repeat for the last week so enjoy my horny thoughts hehe

cw: 18+ minors dni, smut, p in v sex, munch!spencer, blowjobs, soft!dom!spence the loml, praise kink, spanking, suggestive dancing, kissing, afab reader, reader wears the outfit from the baby one more time mv (skirt and bra), i picture s11 spence so don’t mind the inconsistencies, idk if kirk actually wears a tie i am a star wars girlie not star trek, lowkey perv spence at the end but i would do the same tbh

summary: halloween brings spencer joy in many ways, this year he finds a new, and super fucking hot, reason to love the holiday more

wc: 3.3k

___________

spencer loved halloween. this was a known fact by many, he loved the lore behind the holiday, loved dressing up as his favorite characters, and loved playing tricks on morgan and jj around the office.

spencer also loved halloween because he gets to see you. not that he didn’t see you on a daily basis in the office or on the field catching killers, but in a state where you were carefree and didn’t have to worry about the behavior patterns of a psychopath.

in past years spencer has dressed up as different versions of the doctor (still claiming his tenth doctor costume was the best, because it was your favorite), the hobbit from lord of the rings, and nosferatu (to the dismay of morgan’s very scared reaction). you would go a more pop culture route, dressing up as characters from recent movies and shows including barbie, the scarlet witch, and wednesday adams.

he loved being able to tell you the lore of the different characters he was and he loved listening to you explaining the cultural significance and impact that barbie had on society. he could listen to you talk about literal garbage, actually, and still be hanging onto your every word.

what he loved the most, however, was your choice of costume tonight at the karaoke bar the team was out at.

for halloween this year you decided to go with a more nostalgic costume. clad in a black mini skirt, tied up white button up showing your tummy and just the right amount of cleavage to have your hot pink bra pop out, gray cardigan, knee high socks and mary janes, you were the spitting image of britney spears in the baby one more time music video. complete with the ribbon entwined pigtails.

the moment you walked in the bar, spencer knew he was utterly and absolutely fucked.

morgan knew about spencer’s infatuation with you, because, he’s morgan and spencer’s not subtle. so when he watched spencer’s mouth hang open like a beckoning for flies to land in, all he could do was pat him firmly on the back and say, “good luck, kid.”

he watched you walk over to the table the team had claimed, making your rounds at saying hi and hugging everyone. he was last, and when you reached up on your toes to wrap your arms around his neck he had no choice (lie) but to rest his hands at your hips while his thumbs brushed the bare skin of your stomach. he also had no choice (still, a lie) but to be deathly intoxicated by the smell of your shampoo and perfume as you placed your head in the crook of his neck.

“hi spence! your costume looks so cool, i love how it turned out. were you able to find what you needed at that store i told you about?” you bubbled happily.

it took spencer about ten whole seconds of staring at you (and definitely not at your chest) to realize that you were asking him something and tried to quickly (embarrassingly) recover, “um, yeah no i was! she knew so much about star trek and was super helpful, she told me how much she loves seeing you in the store.” 

you giggle, “i’m glad admiral kirk, she’s a sweet old thing.”

he should be ashamed at how you calling him that went straight to his crotch.

“y- you also look great, who are you supposed to be?”

“i’m britney spears! in the baby one more time music video?”, you’re met with a blank stare, “spence, we have to educate you better on the true icons of our time.” you playfully grab his forearm.

he laughs nervously at your joke and the contact and proceeds to down half his beer in one gulp. thank god garcia comes out of nowhere to gush over your outfit, “oh my god girl, you look so hot. you have to get up there and sing it, it’s only right!”

“let me get a few shots in first and then i’ll see, penny” you chuckle back.

after about two shots you were already feeling loose, whatever anxiety you had about tonight dissipated as the alcohol overtook your bloodstream. truth be told, you had a super secret mission up your sleeve. 

you would be a terrible profiler if you didn’t notice the way spencer changed whenever he was in your company, and it never made you feel uncomfortable. you only craved his attention even more, and it made your crush on him run even deeper. he was kind and smart and caring. and undeniably sexy. you knew for a fact he wanted you too, and you were determined to make him do something about it tonight.

knowing spencer hasn’t seen the music video therefore not knowing why the schoolgirl outfit, it turned you on even more knowing he was going to lose his goddamn mind after you were done. the plan was already rolling in your brain as you sauntered up to the karaoke stage and got ready to put on a show.

the beginning beats of the song play and you get a couple of cheers and “let’s go, baby!” from the crowd and your team— sans spencer, who was hanging on your every move as you started swaying your hips.

“my loneliness, is killing me. and i-i-i. i must confess, i still believe, still believe.” you sing and dance the choreography to the song you know so well.

“when i’m not with you, i lose my mind.” you make direct eye contact with spencer, and are more than excited to see him locked in on you too.

you decide to kick your plan up a notch, and walk off the stage mic in hand towards the bau’s table, earning many cheers and phones capturing the moment. you play up the theatrics a little by getting emily and jj to sing along with you, morgan and rossi leaning into you as you wrapped your arms around their shoulders.

“give me a si-i-i-ign,” you’ve reached spencer, and the last step in your plan.

your finger leaves featherlight touches around his shoulders and across his collarbone as you stand behind his chair. a flat hand trails down his chest closer to the bulge in his pants, spencer’s eyes widening at the gesture. your hand reaches the final destination at the base of tie, and you pull it so he’s looking up at you directly.

“hit me baby one more time.” you finish with the biggest smirk, never breaking eye contact with spencer. the cheers and claps became louder but all you could focus on were the deep breaths he was taking to compose himself. you give him a wink as you hand the mic back to the stage guy and walk back to him to sit on his lap.

“you don’t mind, do you? all the seats are taken,” you smirk as you feel his hard on through your lace panties, “plus i really want to hear what you thought about my performance.” you finish whispering in his ear. he shudders in your hold, but the feeling of your ass weighing on the place he needs you the most, his primal instincts take over and suddenly he has a boost of confidence.

he lifts your head so his mouth is right on the crest of your ear, “how about i show you what your performance did to me?” he shifts a little and lightly thrusts up into your clothed core and you let out a small gasp. luckily the team had all but dispersed throughout the bar, getting drinks or dancing, so no one has to be privy to your conversation.

the glint in your eyes was all the confirmation he needed. you stood up slowly with his tie still wrapped around your fingers, and you pull it over your shoulder so he would trail behind you as you walked. spencer followed you like a dog getting tugged by a leash, literally, and stumbles at first when you pull him but he quickly regains his composure as you navigate through the crowds, placing his hands on your waist protectively.

you end up in front of the women’s bathroom and spencer doesn’t hesitate to push the doors open and lead you inside. it was one of those single person bathroom with no other stalls, but it was definitely one of the more nicer bathrooms you’d been in. the maroon pattern of the wall adding to the sultry vibe you’re setting, not to mention a spacious countertop for the sink and amenities.

the possibilities of what was going to happen run wild in your brain, only being pulled out of it by the sharp lock of the door and the feeling of strong hands snaking around your waist again.

you look up to meet his eyes in the mirror and watch spencer fiddle with the edge of your button up, “i don’t think i told you how much i really like your costume.”

“yeah?” you lean back in his touch, “what do you like about it?”

he moves his hands to the middle of your chest, “well, i like how soft the blouse is,” he deftly undoes the knot, “and i really like the color you got on underneath.” he lets the ends of the shirt fall to your side and slides his hands up to cup your breasts through your lace bra, massaging them gently.

you let out a half gasp-moan, “what else?”

“this skirt is really cute, fits you well.” he hums while he smooths over the front close to your core, leaning down to press love bites into your neck.

you turn around in his embrace to face him, lay your hands flat on his chest, and look up at him with the biggest doe eyes you could muster, “want to see what’s underneath it?”

the ghost of a smirk lies on his face and he leans down to capture your lips in a heated kiss. his hand cups your cheek closer to him while his other one grips your ass and lower back.

his tongue slots between yours as he deepens the kiss, and he reaches down to the backs of your thighs to lift you up onto the counter. your legs open up instinctively and he steps in between them letting his hand run up the plush of your thigh to the band of your panties. he toys with the lace pattern of it before he detaches his lips and pulls the skirt all the way up.

he slowly sinks to his knees, never breaking eye contact with you as he whispers, “this is definitely my favorite costume on you.” he’s face to face with your pink panty covered pussy and he lets out a groan when he notices the wet spot in the center. he tentatively traces a finger up and down your slit, gauging your reactions.

soft whimpers fall from your mouth as you let out a whiny, “spencer…”

“don’t worry baby, i’m gonna take care of you.” he coos, “lift your hips.” you oblige as he gently pulls your panties down and stuffs them in his back pocket. his large hands push your legs apart, giving him better access as he tugs you closer to the edge and leans in to draw a long stripe up your core with his tongue.

you let out a high pitched moan at the contact, bracing yourself on the counter with your palms flat down. his tongue draws shapes on you and you feel his finger prodding around your hole before plunging in, driving you straight to delirium.

the sensations begin to overwhelm you and you feel the peak rising in your gut. you tangle your hands in his curls, “pl- please don’t stop.” you whimper.

he groans into your pussy and you feel the vibration sent throughout your entire body, enough to push you over the edge and let the white hot overtake you. he doesn’t stop pumping his fingers or his tongue as he drags out your orgasm for as long as you’ll take it, before you’re yanking him by his hair off of your core and up to your face to kiss him dumb.

the salty taste of you lingers on his lips as you grab his face with both hands and keep him close to you. he lets out a whimper when you tug his hair again, and you smirk as you break the kiss to slide off the counter and drop to your knees. you quickly undo the clasp of his belt, the sound of his zipper going down making spencer’s heartbeat go faster.

the size of his bulge through his boxers was intimidating but it only spurred your desire to please him more. you look up at him and offer an innocent smile as you lean forward to pull back the fabric of his boxers with your teeth and let it fall back into place with a snap.

the impact caused spencer to moan out loud, and he watched with bated breath while you slowly tugged his boxers down to let his cock spring free. you let out a tiny gasp, “spencer…i never knew you were so pretty.” 

his preening turns into a sharp moan as you take in the head of his length into your mouth. swirling your tongue around like a lollipop. you lay your tongue flat on the underside of his cock and slowly let it enter your throat until your nose is flush with his tummy and you’re gagging to keep him inside.

“ho-o-ly shit, fuck.” spencer groans when he looks down to see his whole length down your throat and your eyes bulging with tears at the fullness in your mouth. he wishes he had a photographic memory so he could engrave the vision of you on your knees for him in his brain forever.

you retract back and start bobbing your head on his cock, using your hand to pump whatever you couldn’t easily fit in your mouth. expletives and moans fall from him every millisecond, the feeling being so irrepressible that after a minute spencer had to pry you off him so he didn’t finish in your mouth.

“what, too much?” you grin mischievously, dragging your thumb across your bottom lip to wipe the spit.

his heavy breathing is the only answer you got as he turns your body around to face the mirror, and bends you down at the waist to lean your upper body on the counter. he flips your skirt up so your ass is on display for him and draws his hand back to give your right ass cheek a big smack.

you moan out languishly and he lets out a small chuckle, “kinky, are we?”

“you’re the one who spanked me.”

he bends down to whisper in your ear, “yeah, but you liked it. i can feel you getting wetter.” his fingers return to your core to spread the new wetness onto his cock before aligning it at your entrance. he slowly pushes in, stretching you out bewitchingly. he breaks his gaze from where you connect to look back into the mirror, and god, is he so fucking glad he did.

your face is beautifully fucked out, eyes glistening with tears about to fall over, cheeks flushed, eyebrows furrowed, your arms pressed so perfectly against the sides of your chest your breasts are threatening to spill out of your bra.

“god, you look like a dream,” spencer whispers from behind as he begins thrusting into you. you moan back in response and push back on his cock to meet his thrusts. the noise of your hips meeting and him sliding in and out of you filled the bathroom. 

“i’m so close, fuck, oh my god.” you whine pathetically. spencer can’t help but smugly grin in response, “already? it can’t be over that fast, hold it.”

you gasp out, “i can’t, please, i need to come.”

he wraps one arm around the front of stomach to hoist you up and uses the other hand to tug on your pigtails to lean your head back towards him, “you’ll come when i say you can. you’re my good girl, right? gonna show me how good you can be for me?” he whispers hotly in your ear.

a loud moan escapes your throat as you try to keep your composure and hold your orgasm at bay. his precise and timed thrusts doing nothing to help you, you feel yourself starting to float away, becoming so cockdrunk off of spencer you can barely keep yourself conscious.

“almost there, pretty girl. you’re doing so well, ‘m so proud of you.”

you make the mistake of looking back up at the mirror, becoming grossly entrapped by the image of spencer pounding into you from behind and his equally fucked out face tucked into your neck, “spence…baby, please.”

he whines at the pet name and finally gives in, “okay princess, you can come now.” your second orgasm of the night ravages through you, leaving nothing behind but thoughts of spencer. he continues fucking you through your peak, chasing his own release to come shortly after.

“fuck, i’m close. where d- do you want me to..?” he stutters.

“in my mouth.” you breath out.

he groans out loud, “on your knees.”

he pulls out of you and you immediately drop to your knees, not hesitating to take his length into your mouth and using both hands to pump the remaining. spencer puts a hand on the back of your head and guides you to thrust onto his cock until he lets out another stuttered groan, spurts of his release coating the inside of your mouth.

you make sure to get every last drop of him down your throat, seductively sliding your mouth off his cock with a resounding pop. you’re breathing heavily and you remain on your knees as you try to remember what fucking world you’re even in. spencer grabs you by the forearms to pull you back up to him, and gently perches you back on the counter noting you probably wouldn’t be able to stand on your own anyway.

spencer breathes hotly into your face, his hand coming up to caress your cheek and brush a few loose strands of hair behind your ear. his other hand remains on your waist, drawing soothing circles. you grin widely, and spencer notices and matches your smile without hesitation.

“what?” he laughs lightly.

“nothing, it’s just it looks like my plan worked.” you replied.

“and what was this plan of yours?” he grins.

“well, i just wanted you hot and bothered. i did not expect you to fuck me in a bar bathroom,” he blushes at your admission, “plus, you don’t even shake people’s hands. i definitely thought having sex in a public place, let alone the bathroom of a bar, would be so not your style.”

“i think if you keep wearing outfits like this around me,” he gestures to your disarrayed button up and bra, “you’ll be surprised at what i’d be willing to do.”

“so, is this a good time to tell you that britney has other music video outfits that are just as iconic as this one?” you gleam up at him.

his eyebrows raise in curiosity, “it certainly would be. on a totally unrelated note, i’m parked right out front.” he half jokes as he pulls you off the counter towards the door. you giggle and follow blindly behind him, when your eyes draw to the back pocket of his trousers and you notice a flash of hot pink.

“spencer! my panties, oh my god. give them back.”

he looks over his shoulder at you, “i have no idea what you’re talking about.” he feigns. you roll your eyes and let him have it, totally ignoring the way he shoves the panties further down his pocket out of sight.

[chippedshake]

Darry helping Pony out with some bullies and a six-year-old Ponyboy running up to him a week later with a comic in his hand, saying "Darry, Darry, look, he's just like you!"

And it's a Superman comic book, open to a page where he's fighting a villain and bringing some civilians to safety

"See? He's helping people like you helped me!"

Darry just laughing and ruffling his hair

"Sure, Pony, I'm Superman."

And going back to his homework

But Ponyboy won't let it go. He starts calling him Superman and gets Soda in on it. Two-Bit absolutely cackles the first time he hears it and instantly plays along. Then Johnny starts saying it too, maybe a bit as a joke, but also because he's thinking about how Darry helps him with his homework sometimes and helped scare those Socs away and gave him a hug when he found him in the lot. Steve starts once Darry grows up and actually starts looking like Superman and by the time Dally gets there, he doesn’t even question it.

Darry laughs at first. Jokes about it. Then he starts hearing people talking about Superman and thinks, for a second, that they're talking about him before he remembers that it's just his family that calls him that.

By the time Ponyboy's eight, no one remembers how it started, no one cares about how it started, it just is.

Then it's a Tuesday evening when Darry's twenty and he's getting home from ten hours of heavy-lifting and has to cook dinner and the bills are due and he feels like collapsing onto the couch and sleeping for three days, but he doesn't have the fucking time to sleep because Pony has to go to school and Soda has to not oversleep and they have to have something to eat for dinner and he needs to convince Johnny he can stay over and isn't a burden and Two-Bit can't be getting too drunk because he needs to graduate goddammit and Steve might be kicked out tonight and needs to have somewhere to sleep and Dally needs some sort of constant in his life and it's too much and Darry's just twenty, he can't do it anymore–

"Darry, Darry, look, he's just like you!"

And suddenly Ponyboy's hopeful eyes are looking up at him, seeing Superman instead of his big brother because he helped fight off some Socs.

But that isn't enough anymore. He can't just fight off some Socs and come home and do his seventh grade homework. He needs to somehow keep his family together, make sure they all have a place to sleep and food to eat. And he can't falter, can't fail for a second because he's Superman, and Superman is invincible. Doesn't feel pain. Doesn't get tired. Doesn't let anything get him down.

"Hey there, Darry. Everything good?" Steve walks into their house without knocking.

"Yeah, just a bit tired." Darry sits up from where he’d been leaning back on the couch. Can't be tired. Can't be weak. "You kicked out again?"

"Yeah. Cool if I hang out here tonight?" Darry nods, stifling a yawn as he gets up. "What's for dinner?"

"Uh..." He glances towards the kitchen, trying to remember what they have. "Not sure. I'll figure it out."

"Need anything from the grocery store?"

Darry shrugs. "I can get it myself."

"I don't mind. You look beat."

"I'm fine," Darry says instinctively.

Steve snorts. "Okay. Need anything? I'm gonna go buy some cigs anyway."

"Uh..." Darry opens the near-empty fridge and sighs. "Some spaghetti for tonight. Get some chicken, too, we'll make it tomorrow. And a couple apples so you idiots eat some fruit."

"Got it."

Darry starts digging around for his wallet.

"Don’t worry. S'on me. Still got some from when the old man kicked me out two weeks ago."

"Steve, I can't ask you to–"

"Then it's a good thing you ain't askin'."

They stare off for a few moments before Darry relents.

"Thanks, Steve."

Steve nods. "No problem, Superman." He gives a mock salute and walks out the door.

Darry stares at the empty doorway for a couple seconds before he snaps out of it and starts cleaning up in case the state decides to poke around. He knows it isn't sustainable. They can't go on like this forever, he can't take care of his brothers alone forever.

He knows he isn't really Superman.

But maybe if he lets himself get help, he doesn’t have to be.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Three Seconds

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.5k

Warnings: 

Summary: Your kids plan a weekend at the family cabin, hoping to catch the snow one last time before summer comes. What you don’t know is that your ex-husband is coming along, an ex-husband that you’re still in love with.

Square Filled: single parent!dean (2021) for @spnaubingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

“You ask her.”

“No, you do.”

“I’m the oldest and I say you go.”

Your oldest daughter pushes your youngest son over to you who is sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and a newspaper in hand. Your kids have been whisper arguing for the past ten minutes so now it’s a matter of who will actually come over to you and ask you.

“Are you three just gonna stand there or are you going to ask me whatever it is that you want?” you ask without taking your eyes off the newspaper.

Your son walks over to you and taps the table nervously. You move your eyes from the newspaper to his, and he nervously chuckles.

“Listen, I love you so much.”

“Spit it out, Jacob. What do you three want?”

“We want to go to the family cabin this weekend,” your oldest daughter blurts out. “We’ve been working hard in school and think we deserve a break. This is probably the last weekend we’ll get snow and we want to go to the cabin for it.”

“I don’t see why not,” you shrug.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you laugh. “It’ll be fun.” You look at your kids and notice a nervous look between them. “What is it?”

“Dad’s going.”

Your entire body goes rigid at the mention of your ex-husband. You haven’t seen or heard from the man in four years. Your daughter is old enough to keep in touch with her father on her own, and the other two are young enough to follow in her footsteps. When she goes to stay with him, they both follow her. She’s been your scape goat for not wanting to talk to him.

“Okay. It’s going to be fine. You three can go with him and I’ll have the house to myself for a bit. It’ll be fine.”

“What? You’re not coming with us?” your middle son asks.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Your youngest son puts a hand on your thigh and looks at you with wide green eyes. God, he looks just like his father.

“But I want you coming, Mommy. Please don’t break up our family.”

Yep, just as manipulative as his father is, too. Okay, that was harsh. They’re not manipulative as an evil way, they just know how to play you well enough to get what they want. You set your newspaper down with a sigh, a sigh that your kids know as you being compliant.

“Fine, I guess a weekend wouldn’t hurt.”

Immediately, all three of your kids jump on you to hug you. You can’t be mad at them. They’re children. They want to have fun and be kids. You can put aside your feelings for your ex-husband for a weekend. If he can do it, you can.

That night, you’re packing your pag deep in thought. Does he know that you’re coming? Was it his idea? Is he going to stay if you are? Can you two get along? The family cabin is a good place to stay in during the summer and spring months, but it’s very isolated during the winter months. There are tons of storms up north that will keep you stuck inside the cabin for days at a time, but you think it’ll be fine since winter is ending. There will be snow but not enough of it to keep you from leaving… You hope.

The thing with your ex… he was a good husband in the beginning of the relationship. You two met through his younger brother, Sam. He and his girlfriend were having a birthday party where he invited you to it. You and Sam know each other from college and kept in touch for years after graduating. It wasn’t love at first sight but you and Dean got along very well from the get-go.

After the party, you two started hanging out more and more until you were as deep as ten dates in. He asked you to be his girlfriend after fucking you in the back seat of his beloved black Impala. He was very attentive and loving. Sure, he had his issues just like you had yours but you two were willing to overlook them to make the relationship work.

You two were married for ten years before something changed. It was like a switch had flipped and he was more angry either at you or himself or at the world. You’re not sure why because he stopped talking to you about his issues. He made decisions without talking to you about it, first. He claimed he knew what your answer was going to be. Whether he was right or not, that still didn’t matter because you stopped being his person.

You tried talking to Sam about it but he said if you wanted to know what was up with Dean, you’d have to talk to him. Dean was hunting a lot more with his brother and bottlig his feelings up. Yes, you know about the supernatural but you made Dean promise to keep you and your kids out of it. You didn’t want them dead in a ditch somewhere because of some vampire or werewolf, but that didn’t mean you didn’t want to hear about it.

He was struggling and for that, he disappeared. He pulled himself away from you. He loves you with all his heart and it hurt him to treat you like this but you weren't in the life. You didn’t know the hardships that came with it. You didn’t understand and he can’t fault you for that. It’s just hard to focus on thing slike a marriage and love when he’s getting people killed left and right.

Divorcing you was one of the hardest things he ever had to do not because he didn’t love you anymore but because he thought it was the only way to protect you. It’s also why he didn’t contact you in those four years. He kept hjis kids in his life because he’d do anything for them but only when he knew he wasn’t going to be out on a hunt.

You and your kids drive up to the cabin Friday night so you can have the entire weekend up there. The closer you get to the cabin, the more nervous you get. What will it be like seeing Dean after all this time? He’s been in his fair share of relationships thanks to Sam telling you, so you wonder what his new girlfriend might think about him spending time up here with his ex-wife.

You park and get out of the car, already seeing Dean’s shiny black Impala in the driveway. Your kids run up the stairs of the cabin calling for their dad while you stay by the car to get the bags. You heave the kids’ firsts since their suitcases are light before grasping the handle of yours. A bigger hand encases yours to help, and you look to the right to see Dean standing there.

“Let me,” he says.

“Hi,” you whisper.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

Even now, with all this time apart, that nickname makes your heart flutter. He takes the bag out of the trunk and takes one the smaller suitcases before heading up the porch stairs into the cabin. This was a bad idea. You know it’s a bad idea because all you can think about is the time you two spent apart and how much you want him back. You’re still in love with him as the day when you first told him.

You take the other two suitcases and join your family inside the cabin. It’s snowing outside but it doesn’t look too bad. Tonight might be a mellow night even though you saw storm clouds in the distance. When it storms, the power loves to go out so you hope it doesn’t happen tonight.

“I bought pizza on my way up here. We can reheat it in the oven. I figure it makes for an easy night tonight.”

“Thanks,” you mutter.

Dean heats the pizza in the oven before letting the kids take what they want. They take their food into the living room to watch a movie while you and Dean stay in the kitchen.

“So, how have you been?” he asks.

“Oh, um, good, I guess. How are you?”

“Look, this doesn’t have to be awkward. It’s only for a weekend.”

“Right,” you chuckle breathlessly. “So, how much convincing did it take from Sam to get you out here?”

“None, actually. It was my idea.”

“Your idea?”

“Yeah. I know the kids love snow and I figure we could all use a break.”

“So, how is hunting going?”

Dean doesn’t want to talk about that with you not because he wants to keep you from it, but because he doesn’t want this place to be tied to hunting. He shakes his head without saying a word and you understand he doesn’t want to talk about it. Since you got here late, the kids grew tired right after the end of the movie. The sun has gone past the horizon, and you don’t need the sun to tell you that a storm is rolling in.

“Alright, time for bed,” you say to the kids.

They whine but you know they’re tired. You turn then TV off but keep the lamps on since your sons like the room to have a bit of light when they sleep. This is a one bedroom cabin but the living room has such a big couch that all three kids can snuggle on it like one big sleepover. However, right as you turn the TV off, all the lights go off. The power is cut off because of the storm outside.

“I knew this was going to happen,” you chuckle humorlessly.

“Mommy, I’m cold,” your youngest shudders.

Along with the power cut off, the heater had run its course. The only place where you can get heat is the big fireplace in the bedroom.

“Alright, you three can take the bedroom. I’ll put more firewood in there. It’ll be warm. Is that okay, Dean?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll get the wood.”

You take the kids and tuck all three of them into bed while Dean puts more than enough wood into the fireplace. He lets it burn and keeps the grate closed to keep the ash from falling out. The only light source available is the fire which the kids don’t seem to mind.

“We’ll be right outside if you need us. I love you all. Good night,” you grin and kiss each of their heads.

“Night, kids,” Dean says.

You two walk to the dark living room where you take one side of the couch and Dean takes the other. You’re not sure what to say so you keep your mouth shut. However, the cold seeps into your skin and causes goosebumps to rise. It doesn’t matter how many blankets you have on you, the cold seems to want to attack your bones. You’d snuggle with Dean to stay warm but you don’t want to be lying in his arms. You haven’t felt his arms in so long that you fear you’ll fall right back in love with him.

Who am I kidding? I never fell out of it.

“Oh, my God, just lay on the couch with me.”

“Why?”

“Because I can hear your teeth chattering, and I won’t be able to sleep.”

“Fine,” you huff out in annoyance.

You move across the couch over to Dean and slip underneath the blanket with him. He’s always been warm and it’s no exception now. He rubs your back that sends a different kind of shiver down your back, and you look up at him in curiosity. After spending four years away from him, you’re now lying in his arms.

It scares you how easy it is still to do this with him. It’s like you belong in his arms. Reality hits you when you remember his relationship status, and you move away from him so you can stare into his eyes.

“Won’t your girlfriend be mad you’re cuddling with your ex-wife?”

“Not my girlfriend anymore. Don’t really care.”

“Oh? What did you do?”

“What makes you think I did something?”

“I know you, Dean. What did you do?”

“Let’s not go there, okay? Just go to sleep.”

He closes his eyes to signify that he’s going to sleep but you’re not letting him off that easily.

“Oh, no, we’re talking about this. What did you do? Come on, it couldn’t have been that bad.”

“Fine.” He sharply inhales and opens his eyes. “You want to know what I did? I broke up with her because she’s not you. Because every day I spend wondering what I did wrong to make you not love me anymore. For the first time in four years, I’m happy in a freezing cold cabin lying on an uncomfortable couch because you are back in my arms. Is that enough of an explanation for you?”

You’re stunned into silence as your brain processes his words. This is his love confession for you. He’s just as in love with you as you are with him.

“I didn’t divorce you because I stopped loving you. I never stopped loving you,” you whisper.

“Then what did I do? You tell me that.”

“You decided on your own that you were the only person capable of taking care of you. You made decisions without asking me. Just because you know what my answer would be, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t ask. You shut me out. Hunting became too much and you shut me out.”

“You told me you didn’t want anything to do with the life.”

“I didn’t and I still don’t but that doesn’t mean I didn’t want nothing to do with you. You were my husband, Dean. Seeing you in pain brought me pain and you decided to suffer alone.”

“I didn’t…” He swallow thickly and looks down. “I didn’t want you dying because of me. I’d die myself if you or the kids got harmed because of me.”

“Dean,” you whisper.

“All I want to do now is take you and kiss you and prove to you that I am the man that you can love. So, you have three seconds.”

“Three seconds for what?” 

“Three seconds to tell me not to kiss you, and I will go to bed and pretend none of this ever happened. If you feel for me what I feel for you, I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Three.” You don’t say anything. “Two.” You move closer to him so only a whisper lies between your lips and his. “One.”

He closes the gap and kisses you, and sparks explode behind your eyelids. He makes you feel the same way as he did from the moment you first kissed him. You don’t realize how much you’ve missed him until this exact moment.

“Marry me again,” he whispers against your lips.

“Yes,” you whisper back.

x

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[mlmxreader]

You're The Only Hell Your Mama Ever Raised | Dean Winchester x m!reader [NSFW/MDNI]

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ You're The Only Hell Your Mama Ever Raised, Warrant with dean Winchester please? ❞

: ̗̀➛ After ten years of living with Bobby, you decided to join the Winchester brothers with hunting; four years later, things between you and Dean start to get a little more complicated than just hunting partners.

trigger warnings: ̗̀➛ alcohol consumption, praise kink, swearing, blowjobs, cum swallowing

↳ word count: 1545

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

It was such a vivid memory that you could hear Bobby talking in the twilight hours of the night, hushed tone and grumbling with every other sentence, almost as if he had ever regretted taking you under his wing the same way that Rufus had; they were the closest thing that you had to parents, and with Rufus halfway across the country working on a case, it was down to Bobby to keep an eye on you.

But you couldn’t tell who he was talking to, you couldn’t hear who was on the other send of that fucking phone, but you figured that it was likely to be either Rufus or John Winchester - an old friend of his who had a little bit of trouble with his own boys, the youngest of which was the same age as you. 

“It’s time that boy was shippin’ out,” Bobby grumbled, and you knew without seeing him that he was shaking his head and stressing himself out. “And I mean come hell or high water. He’s old enough now, he should be in his own home with a good damn job. Not still bouncing between my place and Rufus’ place… set him up with Dean and Sam? Are you stupid? He isn’t a hunter!”

You waited for the inevitable as you scratched the side of your neck and chewed at the inside of your lip, not really sure how to react to such a suggestion yourself; you had known Dean and Sam since you were kids, but it was different now you were all grown up.

You hadn’t seen them for years, and there was no doubt in your mind that they had changed a lot more than you ever did.

“He smokes and spits and drinks and fights, sure,” Bobby scoffed. “But that’s on me - I let him get away with it and don’t tell him off properly… yeah, no, no, his friends do all look like trouble - but I wouldn’t expect anythin’ less… no, he sleeps pretty much all day and he’s never around at night - you’d think he was a vamp til you saw his teeth… I just… where’s the boy I used to cuddle? He was so little, and such a nice kid… where’d I go wrong?”

You wanted to go down and reassure him that it wasn’t his fault how you turned out; Bobby and Rufus did everything for you, they never gave up on you no matter what you were like.

You could understand why he was so frustrated, but you didn’t want him to sit there blaming himself at all. So, you crept down to where he was in the kitchen, and waited for him to hang up before you hugged him tightly and shook your head.

“You didn’t go wrong with me anywhere, Bobby,” you murmured to him. “You and Rufus are the best dads a guy could ask for.”

Bobby sighed heavily, although he couldn’t help but to hug you back as he frowned. “Ten good years you’ve been with me, kid - and it’s like suddenly I don’t know you no more.”

You pulled away and cleared your throat, nodding slowly. “I’ll go find the Winchester boys. They’ll put me on the right track, don’t worry.”

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

Four years, you had been on the road with Sam and Dean, now; you checked in with Bobby and Rufus  as often as you could and went to visit whenever you got the chance, but you were happy with the boys in all honesty.

But it was a slow night tonight, on the way to the next town hoping that there would be a case, you and Dean were forced to share a room, as there were only two left in the motel and Sam was… preoccupied with someone who worked at a local pub. 

“You’re not the only hell Bobby ever raised, y’know,” Dean chuckled, shaknig his head as he took a long swig from his bottle of beer.

You shrugged as you hummed softly, nursing your glass of vodka as if it would last all night. “Yeah, Rufus tried to tell me that - but you know me, I only ever do things that my way… and to think, Bobby thought I was a good boy just goin’ through some phase.”

He grinned, doing his best not to laugh as he quirked a brow. “You? Good?”

“You can’t say much anyway,” you mused. “You’re the only hell your mama ever raised.”

He nodded, pursing his lips slightly as he struggled to hold back the laugh. “Maybe so, but at least I didn’t try and pretend to be good.”

You shook your head as you licked your lips, quirking a brow. “Remember when your dad used to dump you at Bobby’s and we’d sneak out all the time?”

“Yeah, ‘cause you were always doing it so I went along - it was only fair,” he pointed out. “But you know how it went down when Dad found out I snuck out… wouldn’t let me have no fun.”

“Don’t worry,” you told him. “Two more years to make it sixteen, then you’ll see - we’ll both have changed our ways.”

Dean put his beer bottle down, crossing the room as he raked his eyes over you, swallowing thickly before dropping to his knees between your legs. “Well, if we only got two more years to make some trouble… why don’t we raise a little hell ourselves?”

You started to chew at the inside of your lip, breath hitching in your throat as you looked down at him and noticed that sparkle in his green eyes; you nodded, which only earned you a playful smack to the side of the knee. 

“C’mon, be a good boy and don’t act coy,” Dean told you softly. “Tell me.”

You nodded again, clearing your throat and almost gulping. “I’m sure we can raise a little hell.”

Slowly, he ran his hands up your legs, settling his fingers between them so that he could feel the outline of your cock; gently and carefully, he started to palm it through the dense and coarse fabric. “This okay?”

You stifled a moan as you nodded. “Y-yessir.”

He grinned. “I like that. You want me to keep goin’?”

You couldn’t even stifle your moan anymore, letting it out with a shuddering breath as you raised your hips a little and practically squeaked out for his touch; Dean helped you slowly, pulling your jeans and boxers down to your ankles before wrapping his hand around your cock and giving it a few firm pumps.

With great control, Dean slowly licked a stripe from the base to the tip and hummed softly.

“Don’t stop,” you groaned out softly, and when he finally took you into his mouth, you felt like that was it.

Fuck raising hell, you never wanted the sensation to end; his mouth was so warm and wet, his tongue worked you so expertly and when he used one hand to massage your balls and the other to wrap around your cock and stroke it - fuck.

You didn’t want anything else in the world. Your hand managed to find its way into his hair, tugging at the short brown strands softly as you tilted your head back and stared at the ceiling for a moment before closing your eyes tightly shut.

Letting yourself drown in the feeling of his mouth around you. The soft sounds of his mouth as he took every inch of you one bit at a time; his eyes closed as he focused on nothing but making sure that you felt as good as possible.

Even the soft little moans he made around your cock only spurred you on more and more as your breathing grew more ragged and harsh by the second, doing your best not to buck your hips and fuck his mouth as hard and fast as you could.

But fuck, when he started to twist his hand a little bit, you were nearly completely over the fucking edge.

Dean’s movements picked up as he realised how close you were getting, almost desperate to taste your cum in his mouth; his spit and your precum mixing so that his mouth squelched a little around you; you could already feel it coming, your toes beginning to curl in your shoes as you heard him gag and grunt around you.

Your grip on his hair grew tighter as you gently bucked your hips against him, needing nothing more than to know what it felt like to cum in that pretty and smart mouth of his. You buckled, thighs shaking as you yanked at his hair one last time and, without warning, finally came.

To his credit, Dean didn’t stop, still sucking and licking your cock until it was perfectly clean, a long trail of spit from his mouth when he pulled away at last, looking up at you with a massive fucking grin.

“Fuck,” you breathed out, wiping sweat from your forehead as you realised just how fucking weak you were from your own orgasm. “You weren’t kidding about raising hell, huh?”

Dean shook his head as he laughed softly. “Nope… but if you wanna, we can keep goin’, maybe see just how far we can get until the morning.”

if you made it to the end of this fic and you enjoyed it, then please, if you have any cash to spare even if it's £1, then please consider making a donation to help Tahani to save her family. Please, every little contribution does genuinely help!

[widodiangelo]

Technically, they weren’t supposed to be in each other's cabins.

But after fighting in two wars in the last two years, Chiron had decided to let some things slide. And so the Poseidon cabin became the go-to meeting place for the older campers: mostly the seven and company.

As a result, the cabin had slowly begun accumulating various comfort items and was morphing into a strange college dorm room-thrift shop hybrid. There was an old, peeling leather couch Jason and Leo had dragged out of the big house a few weeks ago, surrounded by random folding chairs and an assortment of beanbags Nico had totally not shadow traveled in from an ikea in the city. There were two and a half mini fridges (two working, one broken), a strange assortment of video game consoles the stoll brothers had provided and quite a few puzzles.

Since he and Nico had started dating, Will found himself hanging out in Percy’s makeshift common room more and more. That evening, he had just finished a sing-along session with his siblings at the campfire and was making his way across camp to the cabins. The warm summer air was filled with the smells of campfire smoke and sea salt drifting from the shore. A calm smile on his face, Will strolled up to cabin three with an extra s’more in his hand.

The interior was lit up with fairy lights and a blue lamp in the corner: cozy and inviting. Leo and Piper sat in some beanbags, playing some sort of card game. Jason and Percy lounged on the couch, throwing blue jelly beans into each other’s mouths (or at least tried to) while they yelled at the video game on the large tv screen that sat on the floor, leaning against the far wall because someone had forgotten to steal a stand. Nico perched on the edge of a crusty armchair, a controller in his hands and gaze focused on the screen before him. 

Will stepped through the door with a soft wave, which Annabeth returned with one hand from where she was braiding back Nico’s hair as he played. Jason popped a jelly bean in his mouth as Will sat down at Nico’s side. “Holy shit. Nico, you’re sub 6 minutes and you’re already at Lernie? What even is this build?”

Nico smirked, not taking his eyes off the game, but leaning into his boyfriend as a hand carded around his waist. “I told you Grace, Beo is bugged on mirage shot. It’s totally OP.”

Percy tried to catch the blue projectile Jason tossed at him, almost falling off the couch in the process. “Yeah but even with the bug I’ve never been able to make use of hunter’s mark like this before. How are you even doing that?”

Nico shrugged, the silver chains that dangled from his ears glinted in the moonlight. “Practice.” He replied, taking down a hydra head in one blow.

Will took a bite of his s’more and squinted at the screen. “What even is this?”

“Hades.” All three boys replied, and Annabeth snorted. “It’s a Greek mythology game.” She supplied with a roll of her eyes. “Nico’s the main character.”

“I am not the main character.” Nico retorted, eyes never leaving the screen. He mumbled under his breath as the screen shifted, “fuck stupid room 34 witches. Dammit.”

Percy tilted his head in thought. “Actually Nico, you kinda are. I mean Zag is the son of Hades, his main weapon is a sword, you both look like you belong in a hot topic ad–”

“Fuck you, Jackson.” 

“I said what I said– oh shit smoldering air? No way!”

Jason almost choked on his food. “Dude you’re gonna go sub ten at this rate.”

Will glanced at Annabeth. “Do they always sound like they’re speaking ancient greek when they play this game?”

Annabeth pulled the hair tie around her wrist off with her teeth. “Yup. Hate to break it to you, your boyfriend’s a nerd.”

Nico scowled. “Am not.”

Will pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Oh you totally are.”

“Listen Solace– HA! 9:58!” Nico jumped up and tossed the controller on the floor in victory, flicking off the animated Hades he had just defeated. “Get fucked, dad.”

Will watched him fondly. “Of course you would be good at the greek mythology video game where you get to kill your father.”

Nico dropped back down on the chair and slipped into Will’s side, taking the s’more his boyfriend offered him with a grin. “I’m nothing if not on brand.”

[urdreamgirls-dreamgirl]

September 1986

It’s a Saturday when they finally make it up to Bloomington. Steve had to bribe Robin into taking his afternoon shift by promising he’d take three of her Monday mornings in a row. It sucked, but looking over at Eddie in his passenger’s seat, hair whipping around him as he head bangs to whatever music he’s got playing on Steve’s car radio, he thinks it’s probably worth it. 

It takes them an hour to get there and once they reach the city limits, Steve has to turn down the music so Eddie can direct him to the store he’s been coming to for the last ten years.

“Used to come here as a kid, when I first moved in with Wayne,” Eddie tells him as he gestures for Steve to make a left at the light. “The guy who owns the place—Greg—is an old friend from, like, World War II or whatever. You know, that homoerotic male bonding trauma shit.” Eddie nudges Steve with his elbow, winking when Steve looks over. “Wayne’s the one who taught me to play, did I tell you that?” Steve shakes his head. “Well, he thought it’d be a good way to get out all that energy, I guess.” Eddie grins. “Greg used to give me these tapes of the local music scene, stuff he’d been able to record at live shows or people renting out his booth in the back. There was some fucking awesome stuff in there, some of the bands have even made it pretty big. Oh, take a right here and then another right at the stop sign.” Steve sees it before Eddie points it out, a big red guitar on the sign. “That parking lot there, Stevie.” Eddie makes a big show of pointing, practically leaning out of the passenger’s side window like a dog, as if Steve needs the help at all.

Steve pulls into a spot right in front of the store and puts the car in park. Eddie practically leaps from his seat, slamming the door behind him and bounding up to the double glass doors, not even waiting for Steve to climb out of the car himself before he’s pulling the door open and rushing inside. Steve just rolls his eyes, locking the car doors before he follows.

The place is exactly what Steve expected. A little bell twinkles overhead as he passes through the entrance. It’s a little dimly lit, due to the way the storefront is arranged, but Steve can clearly see the rows of guitars hanging from the walls, the bins of sheet music underneath. There are other instruments, too, a couple of upright pianos near the counter in the back, some electric keyboards, a whole section of violins. He can’t help but think about how Robin would love this place and makes a mental note to suggest they all come up here together sometime. Steve follows Eddie’s voice to the glass counter where the register sits, harmonicas lined up on shelves lined in velvet in the case below it.

“—my friend Steve,” Eddie’s saying, gesturing towards Steve as Steve comes to stand beside him. Steve looks up at the man he assumes is Greg. He’s older, maybe a little older than Wayne even, laugh lines around his mouth and an easy smile on his lips. He’s got a long grey ponytail to match his long grey beard. A green flannel hangs off his skinny frame. Eddie smiles at Steve, his hand brushing along Steve’s bicep as he turns to introduce him. “Steve, this is Greg.”

“Hey, Steve,” Greg reaches his hand out for a shake and Steve takes it. Greg’s hand is warm and dry, eyes sparkling, friendly. Steve feels safe here. “Eddie says he’s teaching you to play guitar. Not sure how much you’re gonna learn from ol’ butterfingers here.” He points his thumb at Eddie.

“Hey!” Eddie yells in mock offense. 

Greg laughs. “When Eddie was first learning, he’d try to snack and play at the same time. Always the same thing, those Bugles, you know?” He holds his hands up in front of him, wiggling his fingertips. Steve nods, grinning. “Hands full of grease, couldn’t get a grip on anything.” 

Steve’s grin widens when Eddie rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, okay, old man.” He lifts himself from where he’d been leaning on the counter, tapping is own fingertips along the glass. “How about you make yourself useful and do your job? Steve’s looking for a new guitar.”

“Awesome, man, first one?” Greg asks Steve.

“Uh, yeah, I’ve been borrowing a friend’s, but I’d like to get one of my own.” Steve runs a hand through his hair. “Nothing too fancy, I don’t know much about anything really.”

Greg grins again. “A real newbie, I love that.” He walks across to the front left corner of the store. “Obviously you want an acoustic, easier to learn on, especially if this dumbass is the one teaching you.” Eddie lets out a sound of offense. “These are your best bet. No bells and whistles, nothing fancy. You can get fancier once you know more.” Greg turns toward Steve. “Wanna try some out?”

Steve nods and Greg slides a stool over, gesturing for Steve to sit. He pulls the first guitar off its hook and hands it to Steve. Steve strums a few chords.

“How’s it feel?” Greg asks.

“It’s good,” Steve says hesitantly.

“Good but not great, right?” Steve nods. “Yeah, I could tell. That’s okay. You’ll know when you feel it.” Greg takes the guitar back from Steve, handing him a new one.

After about four or five rounds, Greg pulls the last one off the wall. It looks a little like Robin’s, but the wood’s a little darker, almost red, and the finish is a little shinier. Steve’s fingertips are buzzing when he takes it from Greg and feels the smooth strings under his fingers. 

“That’s it, right?” Greg asks, smiling.

“Yeah,” Steve breathes out. “This is it.” He returns Greg’s smile.

Eddie meets them back up at the counter, wandering over from where he’d been sifting through the sheet music. 

“Find one?” Eddie nods toward the case on the counter. 

“Found a real good one,” Greg tells him, snapping the lid of the case open to show him.

Eddie grins, dimples on full display. “Wow, Stevie.” Eddie looks over at Steve, face soft. “Looks great. Very metal.” 

Steve’s not entirely sure why that makes him blush.

read the new chapter of all of me changed like midnight. posted now

[levilxvr]

Forget about him. (p2)

PART 1

PAIRINGS: levi x f!reader

WARNINGS: nsfw 18+, breakup, car sex

SUMMARY: erwin calls to tell you he won’t be home for the night so levi drives you to his apartment, where he can no longer hold back his desires.

Your phone rings and you curse.

“fuck, he’s calling.”

You quickly end the call with levi and pick up erwin’s incoming call, then sigh when you hear him giggling over the indie music blasting in the background. Clearly he’s drunk again- he never controls his alcohol intake. Typical erwin.

“hey,” you mumble

“hey baby, im gonna be over at marlene’s place for the night, hic- you ok to be alone right?” You rolled your eyes. The fact that he had the audacity to explicitly state who he was sleeping with made you want to hang up on him. Normally he wouldn’t say who he was with, but this time he seemed too intoxicated to think properly.

“Oh, can I go home then?” You fake a little bit of sadness in your tone. Not like he cares anyway.

“Yeah- hic- okay I gotta go now, I’ll see you tomorrow baby cant wait to see your pretty-”

You hang up on him, throwing the phone aside when you remember you’re still laying there with your shorts off, panties damp with cum. You can’t stop thinking about the fact that right now, he was probably heading to some other girl’s place to sleep- no, probably fuck. You ignore the hurt in your heart and finish cleaning yourself up and retrieve the extra set of clothes from erwin’s closet, throwing your soiled ones into his laundry basket as you pick up your phone again.

Fine, if he wants to play this stupid game he can go ahead. You had other plans, anyway. It’s still pretty early, about 10:30pm. Your phone buzzes and you see a banner come in, this time from levi.

levi: everything alright?

you: yep, he’s staying over at someone’s place tonight and won’t be home.

levi: oh

you: I was thinking, if you don’t mind maybe you could drive over? Wanna chat with you.

levi: of course, meet me at the parking lot in ten :)

On the other end of the line, he’s got the silliest grin on his face. His heart flutters in his chest and he immediately shoots out of bed, throwing on a black hoodie and grabbing the car keys. Erwin’s place isn’t too far from his, it’s just down the road a few blocks away. Two years ago when he’d just gotten his first apartment, he used to meet up frequently with erwin at the park round the bend. But now..his heart sunk a little when he realized they probably couldn’t be best friends anymore.

Screw it, his jaw tightened. You deserved better. And after doing what he just did with you over the phone..Sure, it felt amazing and he got the relief he needed so bad. But it also left him wanting more. He couldn’t get the sound of your pretty moans out of his head since you hung up and it was driving him crazy. He felt like his old self a few years back when he was a horny teenager.

Soon levi was pulling over at the parking lot as you emerged from the lift lobby, walking over to his car. You get in the front seat beside him and, with your sudden surge of confidence, peck his cheek lightly. “Where to?”

“We can go to my place if you’re ok?” You can barely make out the blush on his cheeks in the dim lighting of his car.

“I’d like that.”

The drive to his apartment is silent. His right hand is on your exposed thigh, thumb stroking idle circles on the soft skin as you try to keep it together. Your gaze is focused on his hand, that pale, slender hand you imagine thrusting in and out of you every night. Now that you actually look at it in detail, you realize how smooth and veiny it is, his nails neatly trimmed as well.

“What’re you thinking about?” he asks softly, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Not much.”

He hums in response. Every time he glances at you from his peripheral view all he thinks about is how perfect you are. As you stop at a traffic light, he’s admiring your hair, your features, your outfit..hold on. “Is that my hoodie?”

“Mhm. It’s the one you lent me at the library a few weeks ago.”

His breath catches. God, suddenly you became even more attractive.

You let out a sigh and lean in to rest your head on his shoulder. Somehow it’s so natural, and you don’t feel the same tension that’s lingering in the air whenever you’re with erwin. Levi tells you that you’re reaching, giving your thigh a little squeeze. He parks the car in the corner lot but doesn’t get out- instead he relaxes back into the seat and wraps an arm around you.

“Can I ask you something?” You face him, taking his hand.

“hm?”

“Did you really mean it when you told me to forget about him and just..you know,”

“Of course I did.” He closes his eyes and kisses your hair. He loves the smell of that sweet coconut shampoo you use. “Did you think I said it in the heat of the moment?”

You shrug and he lets out a long breath.

“Fucking hell y/n, you have no idea how badly I’ve been wanting to be with you. I just didn’t want to ruin things between you and Erwin. Thought maybe it would get better, but now that you’re really gonna break up with him, shit, I don’t think I can control myself anymore.”

“Then don’t.” You slip your hands under his hoodie, finally running your fingers over the toned, smooth skin you’ve always wanted to feel. His muscles tense and he shivers as you begin tracing the lines of his abdomen.

“What?” His voice is shaky.

“You don’t need to control yourself anymore, levi.”

He pulls away from you and bites his lower lip, hesitating for a moment as he runs a hand through his already tousled black hair. “You sure?” His fingers caress your jaw, thumb pressing down lightly on your lip. You give him a knowing smile and seconds later you’re both leaning in to kiss each other. It’s sloppy and rough, there’s no rhythm but neither of you care. Months of emotions- sadness, anger, love, joy, are all escaping from him as he tightens his grip on your waist and pushes himself closer to you.

“Backseat?”

“Why?”

“Kinda wanna fuck you real bad.” You laugh at how casually he says it.

“Your house is right there, levi.”

“don’t care.”

Then you’re on his lap, legs on either side of his as he grabs your ass and pulls off your shorts. He lets you grind against him, feeling his pants become tight again as his cock hardens. The little noises you let out only made him throb as he hastily yanks the fabric down, letting his erection free. It’s about the same size as you imagined, maybe slightly thicker. You straddle his hips and press yourself against the shaft, precum dribbling from the tiny slit.

Levi’s forehead is pressed against your shoulder, whimpering and cursing softly as he guides his cock to your hole, being careful not to do it too fast. You’re so soft and warm, it’s even better than he thought it would be, nearly cumming on the spot because of how good it feels. You didn’t realize how pent up you were until you felt him stretching you out so blissfully, pussy hugging him so tightly you can practically feel him throbbing inside you.

You start bouncing on his cock, starting slow while he adjusts to the feeling. Levi can’t believe you’re actually doing this right now, it feels like a dream come true. He pulls you in for another kiss, desperately beginning to thrust himself upwards in rhythm with your movements. Your fingernails dig into his back when his thumb presses against your clit, toying with it while his other hand slides under your top, brushing it on the underside of your breast.

“fuck, i’m so close baby,” he moans, head hitting the back of the seat as he hisses through his teeth. Usually he takes longer to cum but this time it just feels too damn good and he’s so sensitive. He can tell you’re gonna cum soon as well from the way you’re squeezing around him, so he speeds up and you feel the head of his cock kissing your sweet spot.

“fuck, yes levi- right there,”

“here?” he groans, doing the same thing as you whimper. It’s the first time hes fucking you and yet he knows your body so well.

“you on the pill right?”

“mhm,shit i’m gonna cum-”

“me too pretty girl.” his voice is a pitch higher, breathy moans escaping his swollen lips as you both climax. Levi stills inside you as he empties his load and your head is thrown back while you ride out your orgasm. It’s more intense than the ones you’ve been giving yourself for the past month, and your legs are shaking as you try to lift your hips off him.

“fuck baby, look what you did,” he gasps, tensing at the wet mess you made over his legs. Shit, he couldn’t believe he made you squirt. You’re surprised as well, cuz you’ve never done it before. But before you can recover from your high, his strong hands are flipping you over so you’re lying across the backseats, Hips slamming against yours as he continues fucking you.

“levilevilevi, wait i’m-” still sensitive, you were gonna say, but the rest of the sentence turned into a high pitched groan as you feel your core heating up again. Minutes later he’s sending you over the edge for the second time and your pussy clenches around him, clear fluid spurting onto his abdomen.

You’re breathing hard, body trembling as he leans down to kiss your lips. He watches as a mix of both of your fluids begin seeping out of your cunt, burying his cock back inside you to push it back in. “shit, you’re so hot, I could do this all day.”

you giggle and tangle your fingers in his silky hair, lying below him in silence for a while.

“Let's go upstairs and get in bed, it’s gonna be midnight soon.”

-

The next morning, you’re woken up by the sound of your phone ringing. You’re tangled in levi’s arms and he lets out a low, sleepy groan as you reluctantly wriggle out of his grip. Unsurprisingly it’s erwin calling you- probably wondering why you’re not home.

“hello there, hope you had fun with marlene last night.”

“Babe, are you out?”

“Yeah, don’t bother looking for me, I’m done with our relationship.”

“What the hell?”

“i’m breaking up with you, erwin.”

He starts bombarding you with a bunch of questions you can't be bothered to answer, so you hang up on him mid sentence and put your phone on silent mode. You feel levi’s arms wrap around your waist from behind, pulling you down beside him as he tucks your hair behind your ear. He gives you a small smile.

“that’s my girl.”

[gabseyoo]

i wanna be yours

pairing: suna rintarō x fem!reader.┆wc: 5,9k.

summary: your usual smoking date with your best friend takes an unexpected turn after a certain song starts playing.

content: modern au, friends to lovers, pining, feelings realization, stoner!suna, stoner!reader, drug use (weed), drugged sex, shotgunning, kissing, cunnilingus, face sitting/riding, spanking, manhandling, light masochism/sadism, unprotected sex, creampie.  

Sunarin: 

so 

r u still coming???

or what

don’t stand me up

You held back your laughter when you saw his messages, you had agreed to meet at 8 pm and it was 8:03, and yet he was already doubting your visit to his place; by the way, you found it funnier because you were just about to knock on the door of his apartment— so instead of continuing with your previous action, you decided to answer his text. 

You:

open the door. 

Only a few seconds later, a Suna Rintarou dressed only in athletic shorts and a black tank top opened the door, “Looks like I manifested you.” He said, stepping aside to let you in. “Why are you late?”

“I told you I was on my way ten minutes ago, why you still ask when I’m only late by like, three minutes?” You joked as you took off your jacket, which Suna then took to hang on the coat rack by his door. 

“I never know when you might get lost on the way, you’re clumsy.” He flicked your forehead to emphasize his words, “Excuse me for worrying about you.”

You dramatically gasped before giving him a light punch on the arm. “Better say you couldn’t wait to see me.”

“I don’t think so.” You noticed how a chuckle threatened to escape his lips before he continued, “I was actually asking just to know if I was starting without you or not.”

“You can’t wait three minutes?” You poked your finger playfully at his stomach, to which he jumped back quickly. You knew he was ticklish, so that area of his body was an easy target to tease him. 

“Of course not,” He snorted, “I value my time.” 

“Yeah, right.” 

You walked behind him on your way to his living room, and although his house was already somewhat familiar to you, you never got tired of admiring how cozy and masculine it was. Some vinyls hung on the wall as decoration, the occasional painting or photo from his high school days, also the music that almost always played from the sound system in his living room, which was now playing Post Malone. The whole place screamed Suna Rintarou and maybe that’s why you liked it. 

Not because you liked Suna, but because you liked his style. 

Already in front of the couch, he plopped down on it and then leaned forward to the coffee table where a half-done joint lay, which he took in his hands to finish it while you sat next to him. 

These smoking dates had started about a year ago, shortly after meeting Rintarou through mutual friends at a party where you two ended up smoking weed at three in the morning on the host’s old couch. You and him got along so well that since then, you’ve been messaging each other daily, going out to eat or hang out, and occasionally getting together for a smoke, —like right now— but of course, everything as friends. 

Your friends were actually surprised at how far you and Suna had come without fucking, they found it hard to believe how two attractive people could spend so much time together, even under the influence of alcohol or drugs, without becoming affectionate. And the truth was that you didn’t know either, not even Rintarou did; it just hadn’t happened and it wasn’t like you wanted to ruin the strange friendship you had developed. 

It was a nice friendship. Lately you have become more comfortable with each other. Suna doesn’t even bother to wear a shirt in your presence anymore, the same when he visits your apartment and you feel comfortable enough to let him in when you only have a towel covering your body because you just got out of the shower, or wear your extremely revealing pajamas regardless of whether you flashed something or not; you even talked about each other’s sexual experiences as if it was nothing— by this point you could say that you guys were like best friends, right?

Comfort and confidence, that was how you and Suna Rintarou felt about each other, and that’s more than okay. 

“It amazes me how fast you can do these things.” You spoke, watching him roll the joint in less than a minute and run it across his tongue to seal it. 

“What can I say, practice makes perfect.” Suna said with that cocky smile of his, scanning the joint one last time before handing it to you, “There you go— and wait for me, you little eager thing.” He added, pointing you accusingly, to which you rolled your eyes as you took the cannabis stick. 

“Killjoy.” 

As you played with the joint between your fingers, you admired the way he made another one. You always found it strangely entertaining to watch him do his thing, the way the veins in his hands stood out a little as he moved them, how he placed the weed on the paper and the skillful, almost automatic way he rolled it. But your favorite part was always when he brought his little creation to his mouth to seal it, and as if he knew this, your gaze and his met as he slowly ran his tongue over the rolling paper. Fuck, why is he doing it so slow? He looks stupid. 

Out of sheer pride you refused to give up the little staring game that had randomly started, but as always, Rintarou found a way to make you lose, this time by asking a question decorated with a smirk, “Like what you see?” 

You frowned and leaned against the backrest, “You wish.” 

“How do you know?” The mocking tone did not go unnoticed in his response, and although you wanted to give him a well-deserved kick, you preferred to bring the joint to your lips. He was quick to light it for you using the black lighter, which you had in fact given him, to then light his own and begin the little smoking date. 

It was almost always like this, just you and him in his living room, with background music playing on shuffle while you smoked and talked about everything and nothing. 

One second you could be talking about the gossip going on in your circle of friends, then the standings in Formula 1, and then you would end up talking about alien conspiracies. The best thing is that these conversations didn’t always have to be under the influence of cannabis, you could be completely sober and still have a good time; and maybe that’s why you loved spending time with him and he with you. 

“Remember this girl I told you about?” He broke the comfortable silence suddenly with his question. “We don’t talk anymore.”

You inhaled the smoke deeply and exhaled it before answering, “The girl you were shotgunning at the twins’ party last week?” You didn’t expect to sound this specific, but you blamed the weed for making you loosen your tongue. 

“Yeah, that— wait. How did you know that? You didn’t even go to the party.” He looked at you suspiciously as he inhaled more smoke into his lungs.  

“You seem to forget that half of your friends have me in their close friends.” 

“Assholes. I’ll tell them to block you.”

“So you can blow smoke into other girls' mouths without me noticing?” Although your words could be mistaken for jealousy on their own, the mocking tone with which you said them showed that you were just teasing him.  

Suna answered your question with a simple mhm since he had the blunt between his lips again, so you added a playful, “You’re breaking my heart.” 

Your last sentence made him let out the smoke he had just inhaled along with a chuckle, “Don’t be jealous. You know I’m faithful to you.” 

This was also normal between you and Suna Rintarou. This kind of teasing. Several times people who had overheard you would mistake that you were flirting or even ask if you were dating, only to surprise them by saying that you were just friends and that was the way you got along. 

“Yeah, right—” For some reason, his statement almost brought a smile to your face, but you concealed it by continuing the topic of conversation. “Anyway, what happened to that girl in the end? You just told me she liked you.” 

You had heard about this girl just two weeks ago, when Suna told you that she had asked him out and he accepted because she was pretty hot, ‘But not as hot as you, don’t be jealous.’ you remembered him saying, to which you responded with your famous ‘You wish’. 

Although, if you dug a little deeper inside yourself, you could find a certain sense of relief that whatever he had with her was short-lived. 

“She wasn’t my type.”

You raised your eyebrows in disbelief, “If I remember correctly, you said your type was a hot girl who smokes weed. What do you mean she wasn’t your type?”

“Well, she wasn’t my type’s type.” He retorted, rolling his eyes making you giggle. “But… you want me to tell you the truth?” The question caught your attention, not only out of curiosity to know what he was going to say but also because of the serious tone with which he said it. 

But, if your hunch was right—and knowing him—it was probably going to be something silly. Still, you nodded. “Tell me.”

He took his time to take one more drag of his now half-smoked joint, his now red eyes met yours as he exhaled the smoke and a half smile appeared on his face before he said, “I found out you’re the only one I like to blow smoke into her mouth.”

Neither of you stopped looking at each other for… how long had it been? Seconds? Minutes? Who knows. But that was before you let out a laugh—perhaps out of sheer nervousness or because you actually found his remark funny—and instantly, Suna started laughing too. As you thought, silly. 

“Good one, Rin.” You said as you stilled your laughter, going back to inhaling more smoke and avoiding his gaze at all costs. You didn’t want to admit it, but before that little fit of laughter, you felt your heart race and your stomach flip because you didn’t expect him to say something like that in such a serious way, but let’s say it was because of the effect of the cannabis that was starting to kick in and not because of anything else. 

“You don’t believe me?” The playful tone in his voice was back, “Look at me.”

You didn’t even have time to ask what he was going to do, because as soon as you turned your face in his direction again, he was already aggressively blowing the smoke right in your face. 

“Idiot! It almost got into my eyes!” You shouted, punching him on the shoulder while the bastard had the audacity to laugh. If you didn’t like his laugh as much as you do, you’d probably bury the lit joint in his mouth. “Asshole.”

“I-I’m sorry. Couldn’t help it.” He managed to say as he stilled his laughter and you immediately felt his hand on your wrist to get your attention again. “You mad?”

Honestly, you could never be seriously mad at him no matter how much you wanted to be, and he was such a bastard that you knew he used that soft spot you had for him to his advantage. But that ‘soft spot’ didn’t mean you always let him have it easy; so between giving up easily or insulting him, you decided the latter, “Fuck you.”

And as if he had already been waiting for that answer from you, he just laughed. “I’m sorry. Let’s do it again.”

If you didn’t have an almost finished joint in your hand, you would have folded your arms to add more drama to the childish remark you were about to say, “I’m afraid to tell you that you’ve just lost your shotgunning privileges, Sunarin.”

“Noo, those are my favorites.” He pouted, and his index finger began to poke your arm insistently. “Y/N, c’mon, just once. Pleasee?”

Okay, he’s acting like a child, with that tone of voice, that pout in his mouth and the bambi eyes he’s directing at you in order to get you to give in. Why does he have to look at you like that? Why does he have to be so cu— sorry, irritating? 

So for the sake of your patience, you said, “You blow smoke in my face like that again and I’ll kill you.” 

His triumphant smile made you roll your eyes, “Promise.”

You left your joint on the ashtray on the coffee table before leaning back and resting your head on the back of the couch, making yourself comfortable; Suna did the same, imitating your posture so you ended up having his face only a few inches away. 

From that closeness you could appreciate in detail the features of his face; from the captivating green of his eyes to the light pink of his lips, you could even feel his breath mingling with yours and for a moment you forgot the main reason why you had gotten so close. 

“Ready?” He asked before bringing the joint to his mouth.

Your little mhm was enough for him to finish inhaling the smoke and move a little closer to the point where your noses were touching. 

You opened your mouth slightly as he began to blow (now slowly) the smoke into it which you gladly received; and, as if the universe wanted to turn that moment into a movie scene, a song you knew very well started to play on the speakers: I wanna be yours, by Arctic Monkeys. 

“I fucking love that song.” You whispered, letting the smoke out of your mouth and closed your eyes in an attempt to enjoy the melody more.

You heard Suna mumble a me too and then start singing along with you and  Alex Turner’s voice.

You call the shots, babe. I just wanna be yours…

A second before the chorus started, you decided to open your eyes again, finding Suna with his cheek slightly squashed against the back of the couch—you couldn’t help but think it looked kinda cute—and with his reddened eyes fixed on you, had he been staring at you like that the whole time? 

Without taking your eyes off his, you decided to keep singing the chorus under your breath. 

I wanna be yours, wanna be yours…

Rintarou smirked before asking in a whisper, “Are you singing it to me?” 

And ignoring again the nervous beating of your heart, you replied, “You wish.”

“Actually, I do.”

In the blink of an eye, his lips were already on yours and you never thought you would be responding to a kiss from Suna Rintarou as fast as you did, you didn’t even think twice, you just let yourself go, tasting his mouth with your tongue and bringing one of your hands to his cheek. 

One of his hands went to your thigh and you got the message quickly— you slipped one leg over his without breaking the kiss to sit on his lap, immediately he grunted in satisfaction and his hands settled on your hips. 

Dozens of thoughts were going through your mind every second, thoughts like: God. His mouth tastes like weed, will mine taste the same? Why did he kiss me? Why did I kiss him back? Why does it feel so right? Maybe I’ve wanted this for a long time. Is it possible that I like my best friend? No, gross. But.... 

Fuck, he kisses so good.

Maybe you liked Suna Rintarou more than you thought. 

Fuck, she kisses so good. 

Rintarou is actually surprised that you kissed him back, he had mentally prepared himself for the rejection, imagining you pushing him and yelling at him why he did it, even he was ready to laugh and blame it on the weed and the heat of the moment. 

Yes, maybe the weed and the heat of the moment influenced a little, but only in the bravery part, because he had wanted to taste your lips for a long time, and now that he had the pleasure of doing it, he wondered why he didn’t do it before. 

Maybe because you were afraid of losing your friend, dumbass? 

From the first night he met you he knew you were his type, a hot girl who smokes weed. But after talking to you until the wee hours of the morning—as corny as it sounds—he felt a connection with you; one that evolved over the months, reaching the point where he is now, secretly in love with his best friend. 

And, love wasn’t the only thing that was gradually growing, but his desire for you too. Rintarou had lost count of the times he felt jealous of the guys you dated, of the times he had woken up with a boner from having wet dreams about you, of the times when he had a girl under him and for a moment he wished it was you instead. It was pathetic and he felt like a pervert; but he had reached his limit and that song, for some reason, only encouraged him more and he just said, fuck it. 

Honestly, even though you were kissing him as if your life depended on it, he was still afraid you’d regret all this. So with all his willpower, he pulled away from you, dodging your lips when you tried to kiss him again, he couldn’t help feeling bad when he saw you pouting at his action. 

“Y/N… are you okay with this?” He asked while circling his thumbs on your hips.

“Yes.” You replied as soon as the words left his mouth, pressing your lips to his once more, but despite following your kiss, he pulled away again seconds later. “Rin…” You whined. 

God, you looked so needy you were driving him crazy. But first he had to make sure everything was okay before taking things any further. 

“I just wanna know that you’re aware of what’s happening now.” He looked straight into your eyes, searching for any sign of doubt, of displeasure, of anything wrong, but no matter how hard he searched, he only saw a pretty pair of narrowed eyes full of desire. 

“Yeah,” You grinned, caressing the exposed skin of his arms. “You kissed me, and I’m kissing you back.”

“Are you liking it?” You looked at him in disbelief while muttering a ‘Isn’t it obvious?’ so he continued, “I mean if you are like, really liking it and not just because of the weed.” 

“Weed just makes it better.” 

And you were fucking right, because when you gave up trying to kiss his lips and went down his neck, it seemed that his senses had been sharpened. He felt so sensitive to everything, to your breath, to the soft touch of your lips, to your tongue running down his neck, to your teeth biting his ear. It was like his body was reacting to everything, even the slightest movement— and it made him so fucking hard. 

It would be a lie to say that Suna hadn’t fucked while high before, he knew it felt too good; but the fact that it was you he was getting physical with made it a thousand times better, and it was a total truth that he had never felt so needy for someone as he did now. 

He let a pathetic moan escape his lips and his skin crawled with goose bumps when you sucked just below his ear. 

“You won’t regret this later, right?” He whispered, his mouth pressed to your temple. 

Your response was accompanied by your hands on his wrists, making him lower his grip to your ass, “I’ll only regret it if you disappoint me.” You took his chin in a strong grip to make him look at you, and after leaving a peck on his lips, you spoke again, “Don’t go easy on me. I like it rough.”

He felt as if something bestial possessed him as he kissed you again with much more fervor than before, squeezing your butt one last time before going to unbutton your jeans almost desperately. You helped him by standing up so he could pull down your garment and finally expose the nice black panties you were wearing. 

Suna was quick to get on his knees in front of you and stick his nose against the black cloth that stood between your sex and him, but instead of pushing it aside, he concentrated on running his tongue over it just to tease you. The moan that came from your lips was so fucking angelic and incredibly hot that he could hardly believe it was because of him. 

Without waiting any longer, he leaned his back against the couch, resting his head on the seat cushion while with his hands he pushed you towards him. You understood what he wanted to do immediately and you got on the couch, straddling his head. 

After stretching his legs out for comfort, he finally pushed the fabric aside with his fingers and licked his lips at the sight of your glistening pussy just waiting to be eaten.

“Keep it aside for me, okay?” He asked in a sweet voice. As soon as your fingers replaced his in the task of holding your panties, he gave you a hard spank to immediately press his tongue against your clit. 

Your moans were so sweet, the sweetest he had ever heard in his life and perhaps the only ones he would ever want to hear from now on. Of course, if you wanted to. 

Those sounds almost forced him to bring one of his hands to the edge of his shorts, pulling them and his underwear down just enough to free his already leaking cock and he began to stroke it up and down; fast enough to give himself relief, but slow enough not to cum. 

His other hand was in charge of squeezing the flesh of your ass, leaving an occasional spank or holding you down to keep you from lifting your hips off his face at the stimulation. All while you had a strong grip on the backrest and your head thrown back, enjoying the pleasure he was giving you. 

It didn’t take long when your panting started to increase and you started to move your hips, practically riding his tongue. Suna guessed you were close, and surprisingly, you using him like that brought him closer to the edge too, so he decided to let his cock go and took his hands to your breasts under your shirt, no bra, as usual, so he could play with your nipples while you chased your orgasm. 

“Fuck, I’m—” You mumbled, and one more movement of your hips was enough for you to come undone, crushing Suna’s face in the process, but he let you— he let you and enjoyed every second of running his tongue all over your cunt, savoring the taste of your juices. 

“Cumming that fast?” He mocked as soon as you lifted your body from his head. “I thought you were gonna last longer than that, baby.” It was the first time Rintarou called you by a petname in a non-sarcastic way, and it slipped so naturally from his lips that he might begin to like it.

“I-It’s the weed.” You tried to defend yourself from his teasing in a shaky voice, it seemed you were still processing the orgasm you just had and who had provoked it. 

“Better say you liked my tongue.” Surprisingly, you didn’t reply anything, so he put his shaft back in his shorts to stand up as you sat up straight. This scene looked kind of cute, you sitting on the couch waiting for his next move and him standing in front of you, watching you like a hunter watching his prey. You made eye contact with him and had he continued to fist himself he would have cum at the sight of your post orgasm face.

Suna was quick to take off his shirt, revealing his worked abdomen and he swore he heard you sigh; then, a little roughly, he grabbed the edges of your shirt and pulled it up, and he too sighed at the sight of your bare breasts. 

He had already had a few glimpses of them, those times when you didn’t wear a bra and he could see your nipples poking through your shirt; other times when he went to your house and you greeted him wearing nothing but one of your revealing pajamas, which showed a little too much every time you bent over. Out of respect and not looking like a pervert he used to turn his face away and pretend he didn’t see anything. He never thought he’d have the opportunity to see them for his pleasure and on top of that, the opportunity to touch them as he just did. And fuck, what a beautiful pair of tits. 

He cupped your face with one hand, squeezing your cheeks with his grip and shook your head from side to side in a playful motion. “You’re so fucking cute. Can’t wait to fuck you.”

“And what you waitin’ for?” Your question was accompanied by your hands going to the edge of his shorts to pull him towards you, almost making him stumble causing him to giggle.

“Patience, pretty thing.” He moved his hands down to your hips, playing with the elastic of your panties before he began to pull them down and leave you completely naked. 

This was almost like one of his best dreams. 

Suna leaned over you again, kissing you once more and pushing you slowly until your back met the seat cushion with him on top of you. His hand went between your bodies until it made contact with your folds, and without hesitation, he inserted a finger slowly, and after checking that you were wet enough, he slipped another one. “I need to stretch you a little more so you can take me.”

No doubt you were quite sensitive, because as soon as he slipped another finger in and lowered his lips to your neck, he felt you begin to squeeze his digits, he took that as a sign that you were about to cum. God, he couldn’t wait for you to do that around his cock any longer. 

A whine from you reached his ears as he withdrew his fingers—just before you reached your climax—to remove the last of his clothes as well, completely naked in front of you and rock hard. As soon as he was back on top of you, he took his shaft in his hand to line up at your entrance. “Ready?” He asked. 

“Just do it.” 

“Shit.” Rintarou grunted as soon as he pushed the tip inside you. He closed his eyes in an attempt to concentrate on not cumming soon as he slid the rest in and felt how warm and tight your walls were. Fuck. He couldn’t believe you had been keeping that pussy from him for so long.

As soon as he opened his eyes and found the spot where you were connected, he couldn’t help but think how much he would destroy you tonight, how much he wanted to leave you sore until you couldn’t walk or sit for days, how much he wanted to see your body marked with his kisses, bites and even his handprints, god, he was losing his mind. 

He roughly settled your legs on his shoulders and with a bruising grip on your thighs began to pound into you hard, mesmerized by the way your breasts swayed and the moans that left your mouth each time your skins collided noisily. 

Suna was going so hard that you had to hold on to the edge of the couch to avoid being swept backwards with each thrust of his hips; your other hand went to your clit to begin stimulating it, perhaps chasing the orgasm Rin had thwarted with his fingers earlier. 

Another time, he would have loved to slap your hand away, tell you that the times you’d cum would only be because of what he was giving you— but he was feeling so good with the way your walls began to squeeze him, he preferred to leave it at that and let you cum on his cock. There would be time for games later. 

“Fuck!” You cried as you reached your second climax, arching your back and throwing your head back as you kept circling your sensitive bud to extend your pleasure as much as possible. 

Suna swore it was the sexiest thing he had ever witnessed. He already knew that this moment would be engraved in his memory forever and that he’d surely jerk off with this image in his head in the future. Besides, he almost came right then and there when he felt the way your walls squeezed him so deliciously that he had to pull out for a second to recover before putting his cock back in and resuming his thing. Just look what you do to him. 

He lowered your legs again, this time holding them below your knees to keep them open so he could keep ramming you as he lowered his head to your neck, immediately sucking and biting your skin with every intention of leaving marks. Your nails dug into his back, the slight pain felt pleasant to him, he already imagined that his back would be full of scratches, but he didn’t mind, on the contrary, he’d be honored that they were made by you. 

“N-never thought you, shit, you had such a good pussy.” He spoke between gasps. 

“Never thought you had such a big dick either, fuck, like that.”

“Like that?” He asked sarcastically as he pressed his forehead to yours, cupping your face with his large hand and squeezing your cheeks so he could kiss your lips. “You sound like a fucking porn star. You like how I’m fucking you?” His question could answer itself, but he needed to hear you say it. 

The ‘mhm’ that left your lips wasn’t enough for him, so he tightened his grip on your face and stared into your teary eyes, “Yes or no?”

“Yes.” Your voice came out in the most sensual gasp he had ever heard. 

“Good.” He kissed your forehead before leaving you, ignoring your whimper in protest and your confused look as he stood up to walk to the side of the couch. 

You didn't expect it when he grabbed your ankles and pulled you without any gentleness until your hips were on top of the armrest and your back was still against the cushion. But that position didn’t last long, because Rintarou turned you roughly just a second later; your chest now in contact with the cushion as you were bent over the armrest, your ass up and at the mercy of Suna, who took advantage of the position to spank you hard. Like, really hard. Eliciting a cry of surprise from you.

He would have loved to take a picture of his handprint on your beautiful ass. This is what he calls a view. 

Suna pushed his still hard cock back into you, groaning at the feeling of going deeper. Your pussy suddenly felt better, so much that he threw his head back in pleasure as he began to move his hips. His senses were heightened and edging himself for a while had already put him in a state of euphoria hard to explain. 

He gripped your hips as he increased the force of his thrusts, feeling closer and closer to his longed-for climax. He wasn’t even cumming yet and could already imagine it was going to be mind-blowing.

More and more impacts of his hand met your ass while you asked him between murmurs for more or harder, only turning him on more with your beautiful voice making such lewd sounds to him and for him. 

But what brought him to the peak of his euphoria were the words you moaned next, “Rin… come inside me, please.”

“Want my cum inside you, baby?” He asked with a smirk on his face, ready to give you all. 

“Yes, please, I want you.” 

“Just because you ask so nicely.” 

That was all it took for him to thrust deeper and harder until his orgasm came. And what an orgasm. It was really intense and pleasurable, he felt it all over his body as he spilled all his cum inside you. 

He even had to take a minute with his eyes closed while he controlled his breathing and tried to clear his mind before coming out of you, of course, immediately watching as his seed came out of your hole, leaking out and even landing on the armrest, but he didn’t care, he’d clean up later. 

Tiredness took hold of him, and apparently of you too because you didn’t even make the slightest attempt to move. That’s okay, no matter how tired he felt, he’d still have the energy to take care of you. 

“Hey, umm. Wanna go to the bed?” 

An hour, after a quick shower with you, he was now more sober, and still with no regrets about what happened lying in his bed, with you.

Honestly, there was an awkward vibe between you two. You had limited yourselves to simply saying things like ‘can you pass me the shampoo’ or ‘do you want a t-shirt of mine’ while somehow ignoring that you had just had the most amazing sex of your lives. 

He didn’t think you’d be willing to do aftercare, but here you were, lying against his chest.

There were many things going through his mind at that moment, you had been silent for a long time and that had led him to overthink. Yes, you were in bed with him. Yes, you had agreed to spend the night here with him. Still, he was afraid that you were just smoothing things over before you told him that this wouldn’t happen again and you got him the hell out of your life. 

But he knew you, if that were the case, you would no longer be here, in his arms. 

So what the fuck was he worrying about?

“Rin?” He heard your voice, bringing him out of his thoughts to pay attention to you. 

“Hmm?” He looked down only to find you already looking at him with those beautiful eyes of yours. 

“Why did you kiss me?”

A disbelieving laugh almost escapes from his lips, “Are you literally asking that after we fucked? I bet you still have my cum inside you.” 

And, as if the pre-fuck you had returned, you punched him in the arm. “Idiot. Just tell me.”

There was a suspenseful silence as Suna thought about exactly how to express himself, he knew what he wanted to say, but he didn’t know how.

Wait. He got an idea.

“Well…”

Okay. Let’s just do it. Your eyes told him that everything was fine. He can’t chicken out right now. He’s going to tell you he likes you, even he’s going to make it cheesy.

“I actually meant what the song said.” Suna caressed your cheek with his knuckles as you waited for him to continue, “I wanna be yours.” 

+ notes: this is me trying new layouts hehe. btw, hi, long time no see. luv u all.

[pikapeppa]

Karlach/Dammon: Burning Blue

A wish fulfillment fic to answer the question: what if Dammon was the lucky guy to break Karlach's ten-year celibacy streak?

NSFW smut, ~7500 words, from Karlach's precious POV. This takes place the same night that Dammon makes Karlach very touchable again. 🥰 Read here on AO3 instead.

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

I’m nervous. Gods, I’m fucking nervous. No, no, don’t be nervous, Big K, you’ve got this. It’s nothing you haven’t done before! It’s just a good old-fashioned come-on, that’s all. Just a good old-fashioned invitation for Dammon to do the beast with two backs with you. No sweat, nothing to worry about, no reason to feel like your engine’s gonna thrum its way right out of your chest.

Ugh, fine, I’m nervous. I’ll admit it, all right? I’m nervous. But how can you blame me? It’s been a decade since I laid a finger on another living soul. One who wasn’t a hellspawn or trying to kill me, I should say. Yeah, the Avernus kind of laying-a-finger-on-someone is really not what I have in mind right now.

All right, there he is. I mean, of course he’s there, it’s his smithy setup in the barn, where the fuck else would be be? Shit, I’m so nervous. What if he says no? What if he doesn’t want to hit the bedroll with me? I might just crumble up into a pile of ash on the spot if he turns me down…

Ohhh, no you don’t. No more doubt. Not another negative word, you hear me? We’re doing this. Come on, soldier, shape up, be confident, all right? Just be your usual big beautiful bold badass self, just like Brynn said. Back straight, head high, tail-barb up: come on, girl, you can do this.

“Dammon! Hi! How’s the hammering going?” Nice, good start. Solid greeting, nothing weird about that.

“Karlach!” he says. “You’re back. I thought you were off to camp for the night.”

He’s smiling at me. Gods, does he ever have a nice smile. It’s like his whole face gets lit up with sunshine. And those eyes? Phwoar. I wonder if anyone’s ever told him how pretty his eyes are. Like two big blue jewels. Or like lightning turned into jewels. Wait, what’s all this nonsense I’m saying? I think I’ve been spending too much time with Gale. Ha, saying something would be a good idea right about now, wouldn’t it?

“Yeah, I’m back. I was wondering, do you — are you done for the day?” It looks like he’s done for the day. His forge is still hot, but it’s just coals now rather than a big old fire. Gods, I hope he’s done for the day.

“Yes, I’m just finishing up,” he says (yay!). “Did you need something repaired? I can rekindle the fire, it’s no problem—”

“No, no, all good. Everything’s tip-top, thanks to you. Listen, I was wondering: d’you want to have a drink with me?”

His whole face lights up, and my gods, I swear: if I had a heart, it would’ve done a fluttery thing like something from a romance book. “That sounds great. Let’s go on inside.” He hangs up his apron, and then we’re heading to the inn.

Yes! First step done, we’re off to a cracking good start! Here we go, inside the inn for a drink, just me and Dammon. How great is this? I mean, not that it’s not wonderful being with Brynn and Wyll and all the rest of those adorable little dumplings, but there’s something special to be said about being alone with just you and the person you’ve got mad horns for.

Here we are, at the door to the inn — and Dammon touches my shoulder. “Go ahead.”

He’s touching my shoulder. His hand, that strong callused hand on my shoulder. He’s touching me, he can touch me, and it’s all thanks to him. Gods, I want to ride him until the sun comes up.

Keep it together, Karlach. Stay cool until you find out if he wants this too. Ha, stay cool! I can sort of almost do that now! Enough for touching, at least, which is all I want in the world right now, and Dammon is touching my shoulder, and… and I should probably get inside the inn now.

I step inside — quick little rub of Darkmaw’s paw for luck. Ooh, Jaheira is still awake, I love her, she’s so damned cool!

Dammon leads me to one of the tables near the bar. “What can I get you? Wine? Beer? The beer is even cold, thanks to Jaheira—”

“Cold beer? Sign me the fuck up!”

He smiles — ugh, swoon! — and off he goes to the bar to find some beer. And here I am, sitting at this table, happier than the happiest clam that ever lived in the sandy banks of the Chionthar. Ha, that was a funny line! I mean, I think it was funny. I bet Wyll will, too. I’ll have to tell him about it — maybe he can add it to one of his stories!

Gods, this inn is nice: all candle-lit and quiet since it’s nighttime, real cozy-like. Perfect for telling a certain smith that he’s one of the kindest, warmest, most wonderful people you’ve ever met and that you fancy his pants off — literally, if he wants it that way. Ohh, I’m getting nervous again. It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s going to be fine.

Dammon comes back and sets down two steins. “Are you all right?”

“I’m better than all right. I’m fantastic.” I lift my stein. “Cheers to you, Dammon. For everything. I really mean that.”

Another killer smile. “Cheers back to you, Karlach.” He taps his stein to mine, then brings it to his mouth, and I do the same — ohhh, beer. Cold beer, my gods, I’d forgotten exactly how good this was! I take another swallow and another — okay, honestly, I am so thirsty. And now I’m out of beer, and Dammon is smiling at me, and no, no, I can’t throw myself at him across the table, I can’t.

He chuckles and puts down his stein. “Can I get you another?”

“Naw, I’m good,” I laugh. “This was great, thanks.”

He nods and rests his elbows on the table (hellooo, rolled-up sleeves and forearms). “So what did you want to talk about? Do you have questions about your engine?”

“No, it’s not that.” No fucking way am I thinking about that right now. “I wanted to ask if, um…” Don’t be nervous, girl. You’ve got this. “You said before that I was — that I’m… touchable. Very touchable.”

Oh no, his smile’s fading. “Yeah, I did. I’m…” He rubs the back of his neck. “I’m sorry about that. Maybe I crossed a line…? This is a big — a huge deal for you, I know it must be overwhelming, the last thing you need—”

Wait wait wait! “Hang on, slow down. You think you crossed a line?”

“I… didn’t I? That’s not what you wanted to say?”

“Hells, no!” Woah, voice down, there are people sleeping in the room next door. “Are you kidding?” I say (quietly). “If that’s what you call crossing the line, I want you to cross all the lines.”

He looks gobsmacked now, which is really fucking cute. “You do?”

“Yeah, I do. I really, really do. If you want to, I mean. I don’t — I mean, I know I’m a lot of heat to handle, but I…” Fuck, my engine feels like it’s roaring. Please, gods, let him want this too. “I want to be with you, Dammon. I… It’s been so long since I was with anyone, and — and now that I can be with someone, I… I want it to be you.”

He doesn’t say anything. He’s staring at me like a fish, actually. Oh fuck, am I totally off base here? Noooo. “No pressure, though! No — I mean, if you’re not into… If I’m jumping the hatchet here, that’s totally fine, it’s not a problem—”

“No!” he blurts. “It’s not that. Believe me, Karlach, it’s not that I don’t want to. I mean — what I mean is that I…” He’s smiling again, thank all the fucking gods. “I would love to be with you, actually. I just… I can’t believe it’s me you want.”

I would love to be with you. I would love to be with you. He said that, right? Those were the words he said? Dammon the amazing smith with the amazing sinew-y hands said that to me, right? Oh shit, he’s still talking.

He gestures at me. “I mean, look at you. You’re Karlach. The Karlach, the destroyer of demons and devilspawn. You’re a hero.”

Oh my gods. Is that really what he thinks? “Wha—? Oh come on! It’s not like that.”

“It is like that,” he insists. “Haven’t you spoken to the kids? Mattis and Ide and them? I mean, I know you have, but you know they worship you, right? You’re like a goddess to them.” He looks around like he’s checking for spies, then lowers his voice. “Honestly? I think you’re better for them than a goddess, because you’re real to them. You mean something to them, Karlach. You’ve given them someone to look up to. That’s no small thing for a group of tiefling kids with no parents to look up to anymore.”

Fuck, I’m gonna cry. He doesn’t even know about Mum and Dad, and he hit the nail right on the fucking head.

He touches my hand — oh fuck, he’s not just touching my hand, but holding my hand. Turning my hand over on the table, his fingers sliding over my palm, his fingers curling into mine like he did right after he fixed me… Gods, my entire throat is full of fucking tears.

“I would love to be with you, Karlach,” he says in the softest voice. “If you’re sure this is what you want.”

Oh, hells. He’s going to make me weep. Swallow it down, soldier, gulp those tears down! “Let’s get outta here. Will you come back to my camp?”

“Actually…” Ooh, what’s this cheeky look on his face? Cute! “Would you be interested in a bed?”

What? No way! “A bed? You’ve got a claim on one of the beds here?”

“Sort of. Me and the other grown-ups have a rotation with one of the rooms upstairs. Taking turns having a little peace and privacy for a night.”

“You and the grown-ups?”

“Yeah — well, we offered to the kids, too, but they want to stay together on the main floor, where the Harpers are. Can’t really blame them, either. But anyway, um, what I was trying to say is, um.” He clears his throat. “If you’d rather use a bed than a bedroll, there’s—”

I’m already on my feet. “Bed. You and me. Now.”

He smiles — gods, that brilliant smile. And he’s on his feet too now, we’re heading for the stairs — oh my gods, he’s holding my hand again. Dammon is holding my hand, his fingers are between my fingers, how fucking nice is this? How long have I been thinking about this — no, dreaming about this? Easy, Karlach, keep those tears in your eyes.

He gives me a little smile as we walk up the stairs. “Fair warning that it was Rolan’s turn in the bed last night, so it might smell a little magical.”

What! Is that a thing? Gale and Brynn never said that was a thing! “Really? What does magic smell like?”

“Oh, no, I — I’m just joking.” Dammon smiles and rubs the back of his neck. “It was a bad joke. Sorry. Pretend you didn’t—”

I kiss him. How could I not kiss him? He’s so — oh, gods, he’s kissing me. His lips, my lips, his hands in mine, we’re — we’re kissing, we’re kissing! Dammon the smith is kissing me, and he’s… Would it be naff as all the hells if I said he was dreamy? Fuck it, who cares if it’s naff? He is gods-damned dreamy. As much as his hands are callused, his lips are so fucking soft, and I’m… I am melting. I swear, I’m melting, he’s making my lips melt apart like a hot knife in butter, he’s touching his tongue to mine… Gods, his hands though? How he uses them? This is fucking magic. His thumbs are sliding over my wrists, his palms skimming up my arms, over my shoulders, oh gods, oh gods oh gods…!

His hands cradle my neck, and his tongue slides into my mouth, and I’m — I’m… I can’t think. I can’t think, I can’t — I can just feel. I feel him: his lips his tongue his hands — how close he is, the nearness of his body to mine, I feel… fuck, I feel everything, every touch of his fingers and every stroke of his tongue, and I — he — shit, was that me? That little kitten-y sound: was that actually me? I’ve never made a sound like that in my life.

He breaks the kiss, presses his horns to mine. “Are you all right?”

I’m a puddle. I can’t talk. I just nod.

He smiles (arghhh, as if I’m not melted enough already!). “You’re burning blue,” he whispers.

Huh? “Huh?”

“You’re burning blue.” He rests his palm on my chest — oh shit, I really am burning blue. I… I’m burning blue but — but I’m not burning him!

“You’re…” My hand’s fucking shaking as I press it over his. “You don’t feel that? Not even a little singe?”

“Not even a little singe.” His eyebrows do that little mischief-quirky thing. “I told you, I’m good.”

I laugh. I can’t help it: I’m as giddy as a kid on her birthday. “Oh ho-ho, boy, you don’t know what you’re doing by saying things like that in a voice like that.” I step closer to him.

His gorgeous smile gets even bigger. “Or maybe I know exactly what I’m doing,” he says, still in that voice — oh, gods yes, his hands are on my neck again, so callused and so fucking gentle—

“Ahem.”

Fuck, Jaheira’s right behind us! “J-Jaheira! I mean, uh, ma’am!” Shit, should I bow to her? What should I do? She’s looking at me!

She smiles — the Jaheira is smiling at me! — then tilts her head. “Karlach, is it?”

She remembers my name! Snap to attention, soldier! “Yes ma’am, that’s me.”

She nods to Dammon too. “Dammon. Good evening. Let it be known that no one begrudges you your fun, but perhaps you should have it elsewhere that isn’t right at the top of the stairs. The only stairs that leads to the upper floor…?”

All right, now I’m going to melt from embarrassment. “Of course! Right! Uh, right! Uh—”

Dammon cuts me off, thank fuck. “Sorry, Jaheira,” he says. “We’ll get out of your way. Out of the way, I mean.” He takes my hand again, and I’m following him down the hall to one of the rooms: a simple little room with a nice cushy-looking double bed.

He leads me inside and closes the door. We look at each other. And we just crack up, we just totally — we’re both laughing like loons, just laughing so hard I can hardly fucking breathe. Augh, my ribs are starting to hurt, I’m laughing so hard!

“Here, sit down,” Dammon chuckles. He leads me over to the bed, and I let him guide me there.

Then I push him down and straddle him.

His gorgeous eyes get big. “Oh! Are you—”

I kiss him again — gods, he’s so delicious. Soft lips, hot tongue, strong hands: oh, I could just die for the touch of his hands. They’re circling my waist, they’re gripping my hips, they’re curling around my thighs… Fuuuck, gods, I’m sparking. Feels like everything’s sparking, like everywhere he touches is shooting with sparks, and I can’t… I can’t wait. I can’t wait anymore. I need more, I need his fucking hands, I need his hands on my skin.

I rip off my top and chuck it on the floor, and his baby-blues drop to my tits. “W-wow. I—”

I grab his collar and I shove my tongue into his mouth — fuck, his tongue tangling with mine: mm, just imagine feeling that sweet tongue in other places… Hellfire take me, I need this man more than I need air.

I climb off of him and start unbuttoning the ol’ trousers, and he grabs my hands. “Hey, hey. Easy, Karlach. Slow down. You don’t need to rush.”

Easy? Slow down? He’s kidding, right? It’s like I’ve never known the meaning of the word. “I…” Fuck, I’m breathing hard, I’m breathing so hard, and every breath feels like it’s making me hotter. Easy, Karlach, slow it down for him.

I gulp down a breath. “I hear you, soldier. But I have to tell you, I… Sometimes it feels like I’ve only got two modes: off, and on-on-on. I don’t…” Damn it, Karlach, breathe. “You might need to show me how to do this slowing-down thing.”

He smiles, and I swear, something inside of me absolutely melts. He’s got this way about him when he smiles, like his smile makes his face softer even when he’s showing his teeth, and it just… It’s such a special smile, you know? Like the way it feels when your mum watches you eating your favourite meal that she made? That’s how Dammon’s smile feels, and I swear on my life, if I still had a heart, it would be swelling up to five times its normal size.

He shifts off of the bed. “I’m happy to show you,” he says, and gods save me, he’s using that voice again. “Maybe I can start with…?” He gestures at my trousers and gives me a can-I? kind of look.

“Yes,” I say loudly. “Fuck yes.”

A big brilliant smile, and then he’s — ah, fuck yes, he’s undoing the buttons on my pants. He’s popping the buttons one by one, not even touching me as he does it, but I swear to all the gods, watching him do this is making me hotter than I’ve ever been in my life. And that includes when Zariel first put this fucking engine in my chest. No, don’t think about Zariel, forget about her.

Dammon pops the last button, then looks at me. “Can I take them off?”

“Please. Rip them off for all I care!”

He grins — gods, he’s a stupidly beautiful man. He’s pulling down my shabby trousers now, finally, pulling the damn things down over my hips and my ass and — oh. Oh my gods, oh my gods he’s kneeling in front of me this is not a drill!.

He sighs. “Karlach, you’re… really beautiful, you know that?”

He’s kneeling in front of me. Dammon is kneeling in front of me. He’s looking at me, his hand is curled around my ankle, and — oh, fuck me, his tail-barb is tracing my calf, his tail is coiling around my calf. His tail, his hand, his — even just his beautiful blue eyes on my skin: he’s seeing me, all of me, my bare fucking skin that nobody’s seen for ten fucking years.

“Are you all right?” His tail-barb strokes my knee, his hand squeezes my calf — fuck, I can’t cope with this.

I grab his shirt and pull. “Please, I — please, Dammon!”

He stands up. “What’s wrong? What can I do?”

I kiss him again. I know, I know, I keep fucking doing it, I keep sticking my tongue down his throat, but he’s so… I… Fuck, his hands are on my hips, on my back, he’s — shit, he’s stroking my shoulder blades. His fingers are tracing over my vents like it’s the most normal thing in the world to touch a woman with fucking vents in her skin, and I’m… I feel so… It’s like I’m full, my chest, my tummy, it’s like I’m so, so full — but it just reminds me of how empty I’ve been for so long. And I need him to… I need more. I have to have more. I need him to remind me of how good it is to feel this fucking full.

I grip his collar. “I need you naked. Right now.”

He laughs: argh, that laugh, how soft it is, how sweet! “I thought you wanted me to show you ‘slow’.”

“You can show me slow with your kit off.” I know what I sound like, I sound desperate as all the hells, but I do not fucking care. A river of blue heat is running through my veins, and my skin is fucking vibrating for more: more of him, more of his skin touching mine — gods, I want to slide against him like we’ve both been fucking greased.

“All right,” he chuckles. “You talked me into it.” He takes off his scarf, then starts taking off his vest, and I start working on his belt. I’m just helping, right? Just being a good old helper, that’s me. Ha, his belt is off, his vest is off, just a pesky shirt and trousers now — oh-ho, he’s a fast one with the shirt, we love a man who can strip like a fast-changer at the circus! It’s just the trousers left now. I grab for his laces —

Oh yes, he’s kissing me. His hands on my neck, his tongue so fucking sweet and slow in my mouth — gods alive, kissing is fantastic, so fucking fantastic it’s unreal. He’s pulling me close, his hands on my hips and his chest — fuuuck me Dammon, his sternal ridges are rubbing my nipples.

I can’t fucking cope. I can’t fucking cope, I can’t think, it feels so fucking good, I’m making that noise again like a hungry kitten begging for milk…

He peels his lips from mine. “See? I knew you could do it.”

“Do what?” I whimper. Yes, I whimpered like a kitten, all right? Whatever, shut up about it.

“You’re going slow,” he says in that voice. “You’re doing it right now.”

I’ve not a clue what he’s talking about. I’ve never felt less slow in my whole fucking life. “What do you mean?”

“My trousers,” he says. “You stopped trying to take them off.”

I burst out laughing. (It’s mostly hysteria, I’m fucking telling you.) “It’s not ‘cause I want to stop! I just can’t, uh…” Oh gods oh gods: his tail. His tail-barb is caressing my butt and giving me shivers — gods, what a life! When was the last time I got a shiver about anything? — oh my fucking gods, his tail is twining around my thigh.

I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I’m alive with desire, I’m so fucking alive, and all he’s doing is curling his tail around my upper thigh. But his tail is so close — he’s so close, the smooth heat of his tail curling so fucking close to where I’m burning so hot…

That kitten noise squeaks out of me again. “Dammon, please…” I stroke his chest — my palms on his chest, my fingers on the ridges of his ribs, I’m touching him. I’m pressed against him from thigh to chest, I’m pulling him closer with my tail, I’m petting the ridges of his back and his shoulder blades — ooh, he’s got wingtips!

“You have wingtips!” I gasp. “Aw, how lucky are you? My mum always said these were good luck!”

He laughs that precious little laugh. “My grandmother said the same. Said it means I’ll be able to fly in my next life.”

“Aww, I love that. Makes me extra-wish I had a pair myself.” I trace the sharp little hooks with my fingers, then keep running my hands over the ridges of his back. Damn, skin is amazing. It’s really an amazing, amazing thing, and nobody even bothers to think about how amazing it is. Skin and muscles, too, like these nice wiry ropes of muscles in his upper back and his arms… Phwoar, his arms are bloody fit. I mean, of course they are, he’s a fucking smith, but still: I didn’t realize just how damn fit he was under his clothes. And these veins in his forearms? The way they pop, and the burn scars on his forearms and his hands? He might even have more scars on his arms and hands than I do, which is saying a hell of a lot.

Hellfire fucking take me, he is gods-damned beautiful. The scars, the ridges of his spine and his sternum, the wiry muscle of his smithy’s bod — not just his body, either, but his jaw, his nose, that heart-melting jewel-eyed smile…

Oops. Embarrassing. I went totally silent while I was touching him. “Sorry. Went into my own little world for a minute there.”

Another soft laugh. “Don’t even think about being sorry,” he says, and he lifts his hand… Ohhh, he’s touching my cheek. He’s holding my cheek in his palm, just cradling my cheek like it’s a baby bird… How long has it been since I’ve had a hand on my cheek? A nice hand, mind you, not a blood-covered clawed hand trying to gouge my eyes out. Too fucking long, that’s how: too fucking long with no caring hands to touch me or hold me or hug me when things got fucking rough. But that’s all over now, thanks to Dammon. I can touch and be touched, I can kiss and be kissed, I can climb this rip-roaringly gorgeous man in front of me, and I swear to every god that’s listening that that’s what I’m going to do all night long.

I kiss him and pull him close with my hands and tail. I stroke his spine with my tail-barb, I lick his tongue like it’s the sweetest thing in all the realms, I rub myself against him like I’m some pent-up kid who doesn’t know what they’re doing yet, and it all feels fucking fantastic. And he’s touching me too, his claws scratching my neck so super-gently while we kiss, his hands on my back, my hips — wowee, his hands on my ass! I want that, yes more—!

He palms my backside and pulls me tight to his body — fuck, he’s hard. He’s hard he’s hard he’s hard, I can feel him rubbing against my ladybits through his trousers — augh he’s still wearing trousers, fuck my life upside down!

I break from his kiss. “Take your trousers off,” I beg. “Just take them off already, all right? I need them off, I can’t — I really really want them off!”

“I’ll take them off. It’s all right,” he says in this dreamy calm-soothing voice, and his tail starts uncurling from around my thigh—

Fuck fuck fuck oh my gods yes his tail is sliding between my legs. It’s — fuck, his tail, he’s petting my cunt with his tail, it’s sliding between my legs and stroking me as it unwinds from my thigh and oh my gods it feels so good, how am I supposed to survive—? “Mm ah fuck!”

His tail is gone. His arms are around me. “Was that okay?”

I am fucking gasping. “You tease,” I choke out.

He laughs, his lips close to mine. “Not a tease. I’m going to carry through, I promise.” Mmm, he’s kissing me again, he’s so fucking yummy, and he’s untying his trousers and I’m vibrating and I can hardly keep fucking still—

He pushes his trousers down and his cock is out. His cock, it’s hard, he’s hard — oh my god his cock. It’s gorgeous. I mean, it’s a cock, cocks are always a little funny-looking, I don’t know how folks who’ve got ‘em can cope with them, but Dammon’s is out and it’s gorgeous — fuck me yes he’s stroking it I want to do that.

I push his hand away, replace it with mine, and he gasps. “Ah—”

I kiss him. I’m stroking him, I’m walking him back toward the bed, he falls onto the bed and I’m climbing onto him and gasping into his mouth and stroking this thick pretty cock of his—

His hands are in my hair. “Karlach, slow down,” he gasps. “Slow down for a minute, all right?”

Fuuuck, fuck fuck, I can’t. No, I have to, I have to slow down for him. “Help me,” I beg. “I don’t know how.”

“It’s all right,” he pants, and he presses his horns to mine. “Just breathe with me for a second, okay?”

I nod. Breathe, I can do that, that’s totally something I can do. Just breathe. I close my eyes, I feel the sweet ridges of his horns against mine, I feel his breath tickling my lips because he’s breathing too, I feel — woah yes, that’s his tail. His tail-barb is tracing my lower spine, tracing lower still — eep he poked my bum!

I burst out a laugh. “You rotter!”

He laughs, too: fuck me, I adore his laugh. He’s laughing against my lips, his tail-barb is gliding down over my bum… oh fuck, it’s moving down to my thigh, around my thigh, drifting between my legs, is he going to—? Oh gods Dammon please yes!

“Yes!” I gasp — fuck, his tail, he’s petting my cunt with his tail oh my gods I’m going to explode.

“Easy, Karlach,” he whispers. His hands cradle my neck, perfect callused hands, fuck his tail is petting me, caressing me, touching parts of me that I’ve been dreaming of being touched for years — ah yes that’s the fucking spot right there, right there fuck right there yes!

“Dammon,” I mewl — yes, I fucking mewled like a cat, I’m mewling and my back is arching like I’m a bitch in heat, but really? That’s exactly what I am. I’m in fucking heat for this man. I’m burning for him, burning for more of this, burning alive with his tail petting that red-hot little button of love. Dammon’s breathing hard, too, his fingers gripping my hair and his hips moving under me while his tail-barb does its work between my legs. It’s like he’s getting desperate too, so desperate that he can’t keep still while his tail is petting me, and I love that he’s getting desperate. I want him to unravel just like I’m doing now. I want to hear him moaning, I want to see him bucking his hips for more, I want — I want him so badly, I want this so much, it’s happening right now and I still want it like it’s out of my reach. How does that make any sense? Why am I longing for something while it’s happening right now, right here, with this insanely beautiful man I’ve been fantasizing about since I first clapped eyes on him?

Oh fuck, why am I getting emotional?

He strokes my hair. “Hey, are you okay?”

Oh gods, there’s a moan to his voice already. He’s breathing hard like he’s the one being touched, like he’s the one who’s getting tail-fucked more perfectly than even my best fantasies — ah, fuck me, his touch, the way his tail is rubbing my clit just right, it’s so — he’s so, so fucking perfect, he feels so right, this feels so right: Dammon’s hands in my hair, his body under mine, his tail petting my cunt and his lips breathing into mine… My gods, I’m so… he’s so, this is, I’m… fuck, I’m so close, I’m getting closer, I’m going to fucking blow I’m going to—

Yes. Yes yes yesyesyesfuckmeican’tbreatheohmygods kiss me Dammon fucking kiss me—

His tongue in my mouth. Moaning, is that me or him? No idea, who cares, I’m a fucking inferno. Everything sparking, like lightning under my skin and scorching my throat in the best fucking way, all because of him.

His lips leave mine. His voice, husky and soft. “You all right?”

I whimper. Still vibrating. No words, can’t talk. Need him to fuck me.

He strokes my broken horn, strokes my cheek. “You’re burning blue, Karlach.”

I sure fucking am. Burning blue, burning alive in ways that I didn’t think I ever would again, and it’s all because of him. It’s all him, it’s Dammon — his sunshine smile, his jewel-pretty eyes the colour of a summer sky: I’m burning blue, all because of him.

I nuzzle his ear. “I’m going to ride you until you see stars, soldier.”

He laugh-moans. “Yes please. I’m all for that.”

He’d better be, because I can’t hold back now. I can’t do slow now. I am on, on-on-on like I’ve never been before, and I’m sitting upright on his lap and I’m stroking his cock while he grips my thighs — gods I want to taste him, I want his come in my mouth, no no I’ll save that for later, I need him inside of me right fucking now—

Fuck yes he’s inside me fuck yes. Dammon is inside of me, and he feels like fucking heaven.

He groans, and it’s the prettiest sound I’ve ever heard. “Gods, Karlach!”

I take it back: hearing my name like that is the prettiest sound I’ve ever heard. I stroke his chest — beautiful chest, beautiful ridges of his ribs — then I brace myself on his abs and start fucking him hard.

He groans, arches his neck in a way that makes me want to bite him (ha, don’t tell Astarion!): oh, my sweet fucking gods, he feels amazing. His cock is driving into me so hard, so sweet and hard that I’m making noise with every stroke, and he’s making noise too and gripping my thighs — ah, his tail, it’s coiling around my forearm in a way that makes my tummy flutter, and his eyelids are fluttering too like he’s really letting loose, which I love to see. I love seeing him like this, I love seeing him looking as good as he makes me feel, and fuck does he ever make me feel good. His thick fucking cock, the hot driving punch of it reaching so deep… Holy fucking hells, I missed this, I missed it so fucking much, and it’s so much better than I remembered. Dammon’s solid body under mine, his strong smithy’s hands on my hips and thighs, his tail squeezing my arm like the way he holds my hand, and those eyes: his beautiful eyes, the way he’s watching me under his half-lidded eyes while I ride him like my life hinges on his cock… Fuck me, did it ever really feel like this? Was it ever really this good?

Wait, wait a second: was sex ever this fucking good before?

I’m staring at Dammon now. Just staring at this kind and gorgeous man who’s filling me up within an inch of my life, and I… I don’t know that it’s ever been like this. I don’t know that it ever has been this good before. Sex is always great, don’t get me wrong, but it’s never… My gods, it’s never been like this. It’s never felt so… so close. So right. Fuck, it’s never felt as right as it does right now with him — how fucking weird is that? We’re in an abandoned inn in a place that’s been cursed to the shadows for a hundred years, and it’s somehow the most right that I’ve ever felt while being naked with another soul.

Wait, though: it gets even weirder. I’m with Dammon, an infernal smith who I might never have even spoken to if it wasn’t for the engine in my chest — the engine that’s slowly burning me alive. If I didn’t have this damned thing in my chest, I wouldn’t be here with him. We wouldn’t be here together doing this.

I’m having the time of my fucking life right now with the most wonderful man I’ve ever met because of something that’s going to kill me.

No, no no no, stop it brain, don’t think about it—

“Hey.” He’s sitting up on one elbow — no, he’s pushing himself upright and reaching for my cheek. “Hey, hey now, are you okay—”

I kiss him. I shove my tongue into his mouth and grip his neck, and I fuck him like there’s no tomorrow. I fuck him like this is it, like this is the only chance we’ll have and I have to show him how much this means, how good this is and how good it is because of him, because it’s him, Dammon: it’s Dammon’s body under mine, and his hand and his tail holding me, it’s all him, and I need him to know that there’s nothing I wanted more in this world than to be with him.

He breaks from my lips with the most incredible groan. “Ah, Karlach—”

I nuzzle his ear. “I want you so bad, Dammon. I want you more than anything.”

He groans again — gods, if only you could bottle a noise and keep it for later. “I’m all yours. I promise.”

My gods, what a promise. What a thing to say, what a thing to hear from someone who’s so fucking good. And now I don’t know what to say, my tongue’s a knot, my throat’s getting thick — gods, just fuck him already, just wring the pleasure out of him like he did for you.

I fuck him. I’m riding him hard. I’m bouncing on his beautiful cock and staring at his beautiful face while it crinkles up with pleasure — come for me, Dammon, I want you to. I really want him to, I want his come more than anything in the world, I want him to let it all go inside of me — oh yes, good boy, he’s getting even harder, he’s getting harder inside of me oh my gods fuck I know he’s going to come—

“A-ah, please, y-yes—!” He kisses me, Dammon is kissing me, his tongue thrusting into my mouth and his hand firm at the back of my neck, he’s shuddering and pulsing deep inside — yes, I can feel him giving me his come, and I want it all. I’m fucking hungry for it, for every last drop of him, every little bit of proof that this was me and him together: Dammon and Karlach, Karlach and Dammon, two hells-touched tieflings finding our little place of light among the shadows.

He breaks our kiss and presses his horns to mine again. “Gods,” he pants. “Gods alive. You are… incredible.” He laughs, this husky I’m-out-of-breath-because-I’ve-been-fucking kind of laugh, and I swear I’d give my unbroken horn to be able to hear that laugh every day for the rest of my life, no matter how long or short it is.

He leans away a little and strokes my hair. “How are you feeling?”

Gods, look at him: he’s perfect. He said I was burning blue, but I swear on my life, his eyes are incandescent. They’re the brightest, most electric blue I’ve ever seen in my life, and it’s like they’re scorching my soul, branding this amazing moment deep into me so that it’ll never be forgotten, no matter what comes next.

Fuck, I feel so full. I’m so… my chest, my throat, my entire fucking soul feels full. Oh no, my eyes feel full too, oh no — don’t do this, Karlach, don’t you dare.

“I—” Oh fuck, I’m sobbing. I’m sobbing? Why now, why?

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Come here, it’s okay.” He’s tucking my head against his neck — oh my gods, I’m falling apart. He’s hugging me, his tail is stroking my back like he’s comforting a child, which is funny ‘cause I’m weeping like a baby. No, not weeping: I’m fucking bawling. That’s fantastic, Karlach, that’s just great, let’s just bawl all over the gorgeous smith while his cock is still in me.

Okay, that’s kind of funny, but… Fuck, I can’t stop crying. It’s all just coming out now, everything, all the stuff that’s been going on: the tadpole, my engine, the shadow curse and how fucking awful it is here, Lae’zel almost dying at the crèche and Mizora being a fucking bitch to Wyll and Astarion making his snarky little jokes like he’s not dead-scared of Cazador. I’m just fucking sobbing, I’m howling for me and them and everything, and more stuff keeps coming out: Gortash, Zariel, Avernus, Mum and Dad — everything, it’s just fucking everything, it’s all the things, so much shit I haven’t cried about for years, and it’s all coming out on poor Dammon because he’s hugging me.

Dammon is hugging me. He’s just hugging me while I cry all over him, hugging me tight like I haven’t been hugged in fucking years, and I don’t know if I can stop.

I do stop, eventually, when it feels like every tear in my body is on his neck instead of in my eyes. When I finally stop crying, he speaks. “Are you all right?”

Gods be damned, his soft voice, his hand petting my back… He’s going to make me cry again. “I’m okay,” I say. “Stuffy, but okay.” I lift my head — eurgh, yep, lots of tears and snot on his neck. Real attractive, Karlach, really sexy stuff.

“Sorry.” I wipe my face real quick and start wiping his neck. “Sorry. That’s gross. I’m so sorry—”

“Don’t be sorry,” he says. “You needed that. There’s nothing to be sorry for.” Oh hells, now he’s wiping my cheeks… Did someone make this man on purpose to turn me into the world’s meltiest puddle? He’s wiping my cheeks and looking at me in that so-soft way with his beautiful soft eyes… Oh boy, I’m a goner. If I wasn’t already all fluttery for him, I’m a total loss now.

He strokes my shoulder. “Do you have to head back to your camp?”

No way. I don’t want to go back. I want to stay here with him and make this night last forever. Don’t say that, though, you’ll sound like a limpet. “I can stay for a while,” I say, all casual-like. “If you want, I mean. I — unless you have to sleep? You probably have to get up early for the forge—”

“No, no,” he says quickly. “I can get up whenever, that doesn’t matter. Either way, if you — if you don’t have to get back, maybe…” He clears his throat — aw, he’s looking shy! Why is he looking shy? “Maybe you’d like to stay the night? With me, I mean?”

He wants me to stay? He wants me to stay! “Yes! I mean—” Oh gods, I’m laughing now. “Yes. I’d love to stay with you.”

He smiles — oh gods, that killer smile. He’s going to destroy me with that smile before the night is through, I swear. “Great! That’s — that’s really great. Okay.” He laughs a little and strokes my arm. “Maybe I can take my trousers off, if that’s okay with you?”

“Your—?” I twist around on his lap to look — ha, oh shit, his trousers are down around his calves, and he’s still wearing his boots!

I laugh and climb off of him. “You didn’t take them off? Bit eager, are we?”

“Me? You didn’t give me a chance! So much for slowing down.” He’s grinning now as he pulls off his boots, and he’s so damned pretty that all I can do is smile back at him. Gods, I really am a goner.

He drops his boots on the floor. He’s totally naked now, naked and warm and perfect, and I don’t want to waste another second not touching all of that perfect naked skin.

I straddle him and wrap my arms around his neck, and he smiles and strokes my hip. “Back for a second round already? I’m game, but I’ll need a little more time.”

I press my horns to his. “Dammon, I…” No, Karlach, don’t say it. Don’t tell him what you’re feeling, it’s way too soon. It is too soon, right? It’s too soon to know if this is just lust or if it’s something more, right? Something so much more, so much bigger that it feels like it’s filling my entire damn body… I can’t know yet for sure that this is what I think it is, can I? Fuck, I’m breathing all shaky. Stop it, K, don’t cry again, just don’t.

He strokes my neck — gods, his magical hands on my skin, I can’t get enough. “It’s okay,” he whispers. “Take your time. Talk when you’re ready.”

I nod, and I kiss him. For the dozenth time tonight, I’m kissing Dammon, melting under his soft lips and tasting his tongue and feeling every inch of my skin coming to life under his hands, and I can’t be fucking bothered with talking. Who cares about words or talking or even thinking when there’s this, when there’s him? Not me, that’s for sure. All that matters is being here with Dammon, skin-to-skin with him like all my hottest dreams, and I don’t give a shit about anything else.

Tonight, I’m burning blue for him. And that’s all that fucking matters.

[ivys-garden]

The thing that continues to shock me about the modern world is the multitude of ways we let cars ruin are lives.

Private cars continue to be a Blight, an obsession and focus on speed and size in car culture leads to accidents becoming more and more deadly.

Counties like China used to be completely dominated by bikes, now Beijing has some of the worse air quality in the world. Globally respiratory conditions in adults and children continue to rise. And co2 drives us ever closer to climate collapse

Switching to electric and hydrogen doesn't fix this either, parts still need to be mined, rubber still needs to be produced, as does plastic and old cars and bygone petrol stations need to be scrapped as many cannot be converted

Streets and cities used to be a place of community, but now they are dominated by cars. Want to go to the park? Sorry, it was torn up for a parking garage. Want to cross the road? Yeah, just wait ten minutes for all the cars to pass and get over in 10 seconds before someone decides that getting to mcdonalds is more important than traffic laws. Oh, and I hope you've not got a motor disability or are in a wheel chair or your royaly fucked.

Pedestrians used to have the right of way always, never cars. You never had to teach children to look both ways because cars were expected to stop. Of corse motor companies started paying schools to teach traffic safety and over the decades streets became devoid of people to the point where some see hanging around on a conner or playing curby as a crime.

Cars themselves cut of connections, drivers get ever more angry at simply mistakes and spend acumelate years of there life in traffic Jams. And don't think Lane expansions help, that just means the jam expands to meet the new capacity

The private car in the modern day is pointless and dangerous, cars do have a place, like for businesses or the police or I'd your disabled and public transport in nonaplicable, but other than that the car is of a bygone era

There's a reason that more young people don't buy cars and not just because there expensive and bad for the planet - though that is a factor - cars are simply to dangerous and difficult to use.

Edinburgh has experimented with banning cars from several Streets, reinstating conections and allowing kids to play. They up parking charges to dissuade people from using there car and clogging up the narrow streets, they instal low emissions zones to stop the most polluting cars entering.

And it works.

More and more people in Scotland are using public transport, the tram lines have been expanded, as have the train and bus routes. Travel becomes cheaper and these measure have begun to spread.

It's not just Scotland either, Ireland and prodigal have done similar. Brazil has expanded bike lanes to make cycling safer and introduced a bike share system.

Spain went even further and made train travel free and German citizens even tried to get Berlin to completely ban cars

The era of the car is ending, and the sooner people accept that public transport is safer, more affordable and better for the environment, the sooner and smoother the change will occur.

One day, when I'm and old lady sitting on by garden chair, I will look out and smile because coming down the street will not be and endless cavalcade of cars, it will be the odd company van, the single decker bus carrying passengers and merry children running down the streets.

Or you know we could keep using the car and literally destroy the world via climate change whatever you want really.

[autisticlancemcclain]

There’s an unfamiliar Blade staring at him. And yeah, that’s a pretty hard case to make with the masks and uniforms and everything. How do you know they’re unfamiliar? How do you know they’re staring at you?

Well, Keith knows they’re staring at him because they’re not even attempting to hide it and it’s been something like ten minutes, and they’re unfamiliar because — well. By Galran standards, they’re short as shit, and Keith makes a point of being familiar with every other short Blade on this base, because of Short King Solidarity.

Shut up. It’s important.

Point is that there is a random stranger staring at him for no reason in the barracks, and it is annoying. Finally, Keith decides that if they’re not going to say something, he is, so he holds his hands up in the universal ‘what the shit do you want, pal?’ position.

It works. The unfamiliar Blade beckons him forward. As soon as Keith gets close to them, they turn and start striding out of the room, and Keith has to jog to keep up (because even though they’re short, for a Galra, the have legs for days, Jesus).

They lead him around dozens of twisting hallways, speeding up whenever Keith gets close. It does not occur to Keith that they might be a murderer until about 10 minutes into their chase. But by then he’s put too much effort into the whole ordeal to just walk away, so he keeps one hand on his blade and mostly just hopes for the best.

They’re pretty lanky, anyway. Keith could probably take them.

Finally, the Blade stops in front of one of the small hangar doors, slapping their palm to the lockpad. This gives Keith just enough time to catch up, so he reaches out to stop them with a hand on the elbow.

“Dude, where are you taking me —”

The Blade makes a frantic cutting motion at their neck, clearly telling him to shut the fuck up. Keith raises his eyebrows.

Well, now. Colour him intrigued.

They duck into the hangar as soon as the doors open, leading him by the hand to a small pod. They key in the code to open the door, and attempt to tug Keith inside.

That’s when Keith decides enough is enough.

“Yeah, no, man. I’m not getting into a tiny pod with someone who’s been nothing but suspicious since I saw them. Sure, I was being a bit of a dumbass when I decided to follow you, but I think this is a great place to draw the line.”

The Blade makes a pleading face. Well, as pleading as they can be with their mask on.

Keith shakes his head, crossing his arms stubbornly.

The Blade sighs, hanging their head in resignation. They peek out of the pod, checking the area — for what? Other Blades? Cameras? Monsters? — and then take a deep breath, before pressing the button on their neck for deactivating their mask.

And, well. Keith can safely say this is not what he expected.

“Lan —”

“Will you shut the fuck up,” Lance hisses, grabbing Keith by the arm and yanking him in the pod, shutting the door behind him. Keith doesn’t put up a fight, too busy staring at Lance with his jaw dropped to the floor.

The longer Keith stares, the more nervous Lance gets. The previous annoyance vanishes from his expression, leaving him biting his lip with his brow furrowed.

“Please say something,” he begs.

Keith snaps his jaw shut. “Okay. I’ll start simple.” He clasps his hands together and presses them to his lips, inhaling sharply. “What the fresh, genuine, actual fuck are you doing here? In a Blade uniform? Acting suspicious as hell?”

“You know the security breach?” Lance blurts.

“Yeah,” Keith says slowly, trying to figure out how that has anything to do with this. “What about it?”

“I am the security breach.”

Once, when he was very young, Keith was fucking around in the desert and he came across what he was sure was a chicken egg, sitting randomly under a bush. Since he was literally eight years old, his brilliant idea had been to bring the chicken egg home, incubate it, and have his very own pet chicken. Since his Pa was not one to stop his brilliant ideas, this was allowed, so Keith nurtured that egg with all the concentration his tiny self could produce. Several months later, it hatched.

It was a snake.

The level of shocked bewilderment Keith felt then is about equivalent to what he’s feeling right now.

“I’m sorry. I think I just hallucinated. Try again?”

“I’m serious,” Lance insists. “I’m Akira Romanoff. I’m the security breach.”

Bizarrely, in between the panicked shouts of ‘oh my god I’m going to have to become the red paladin again because Voltron is going to be down a man after Lance is executed’ in his head, Keith has the thought that Lance looks exactly like Flynn Rider did when Rapunzel healed his hand — same freaked-out expression, down to the slightly puffed cheeks. He wonders vaguely if that’s a practiced expression.

“Okay,” Keith says slowly. “I have no idea how to respond to that. Please start from the beginning.”

“It was never meant to go this far,” Lance says instead, because he’s apparently incapable of following instructions. “I just meant to do small missions, you know? Tiny things. Unnoticed things. But then it spiralled and I panicked and —”

“Lance,” Keith interrupts, putting firm hands on the paladin’s shoulders. “Shut the fuck up and start from the actual beginning.”

“Those are very contradicting instructions,” Lance says faintly.

“Jesus H Christ,” Keith says.

“Okay!” Lance says. “Okay.” He takes a deep breath. “Shiro’s been — weird.” He side eyes Keith as he says it, as if he’s afraid Keith’s going to get mad at him.

“Go on,” Keith says, and reassuringly as he can.

“Right. He’s been kind of horrible, actually. He gets a lot of mood swings, which I understand, but he sort of takes them out on me? And only me? Like, he screams at me, Keith. All the time. Proper screaming, too, in my face and everything. It’s pretty awful.”

Keith blinks. “Shiro? Yelling?”

“I know it’s hard to believe and it sounds like I’m lying but I’m not I promise I’m telling you the truth, and I know I deserve it and say stupid things sometimes but not everything I say is stupid but he yells at me anyway and I know I shouldn’t complain because I never had to go through what he went through but it is kind of unbearable and it also feels pretty targeted which sucks and I know he was never my biggest fan but it sucks knowing that he hates me now and I don’t know what I did and —”

“Breathe, Lance,” Keith says, squeezing his shoulders. “Holy shit.”

Lance takes a huge, gasping breath. Once the air has returned to his lungs, he looks back at Keith, brown eyes wide and imploring. “I didn’t mean for it to go this far,” he insists again. “But — Shiro kept excluding me from missions. I just wanted to be useful again. And the Blade uniform is so easy to replicate, and I already knew all the passwords and stuff —”

“You infiltrated the Blade to do missions?”

Lance bites his lip. “Yeah. It’s — I like it. It’s kind of fun. And validating.”

Keith gets the validating part. There’s a deep sense of satisfaction that blooms in his chest every time he comes back from a successful mission, almost deep enough that it hides the loneliness. Blade missions definitely make you feel like you’re making a difference.

But fun?

“How the hell are you having fun?”

A leering smirk spreads across Lance’s face — finally, a familiar expression. Keith has seen that dumbass face right before Lance spills the cheesiest line ever to be uttered to some poor, unsuspecting attractive person, or right before he makes a ‘that’s what she said’ joke. God, Keith fucking hates that dumbass face.

He’s never been happier to see it.

“You wanna know why I chose Romanoff as my fake last name?” Lance asks, voice pitched low.

Keith would love to say no, just to throw him off his game. But he’s curious, unfortunately.

“Why?”

“Because I’m the Black Widow now, baby. I get my targets, I seduce ‘em, I handle ‘em, and I’m out before they see me. And that is fun.”

Keith flushes slightly, rolling his eyes and shoving Lance’s face away. “Okay, okay, Casanova. Cool it.”

Lance, unaffected, snickers. But quickly the mirth fades from his expression, and fades back into something worried, fearful.

“If the Blade thinks Voltron is spying on them it will crack the Coalition in half,” he says quietly. He chews his lip, staring at the floor. “I didn’t — I wasn’t thinking that far ahead, I guess. Or maybe I didn’t think I would get caught. I didn’t mean to do any big missions. I didn’t mean to be some big — thing.”

Keith swallows. “I know.”

He wonders whose side he would be expected to stand on, if it came to that. If the tentative trust between the Blades and Voltron cracked forever, if Voltron wasn’t the way he left it, if Shiro wasn’t there to call him home. He meets Lance’s eyes again and his dark eyes are watery, torn and guilty and sad. Keith’s heart lurches with his own guilt, and something heavy and fierce like longing, like I-missed-you and I’m-sorry-I-wasn’t-there all at once.

“I didn’t know who else to turn to,” he admits, softer. “I trust you. I’m sorry.”

He looks hunched and unsure of himself and he says I didn’t know who else to turn to I’m sorry and Keith hears There are five lions and six paladins, you do the math. And he knows he ran then and it fixed things but this time Lance is doing the running, this time Lance is the one who is looking between Voltron and other and doesn’t know what to do, and suddenly Keith’s choice is clear as day and the words come to him easily, without struggle.

“Alright, Sharpshooter,” he says, spine straight and voice firm. “Let’s go. Tell me the plan on the way out.”

Lance grins, wide and bright and beautiful, and the loneliness and fear evaporates in Keith’s chest.

———

part one

[iboatedhere]

peaches from the June prompts -OR- endless freckles from the Summer List. AU! 🙏🏼

Xx

They’re only three weeks into the season before Alex declares that the man that sells peaches and honey three booths down and across the aisle from him is a real fucking problem.

Alex has been attending the Barton Creek Farmers Market for as long as he can remember, sitting on a stool while his abuela sold agua fresca and horchata in the summer and Mexican coffee and hot chocolate during cool fall mornings.

She’d let him help when he got a little older, taking money and making change, filling cups with ice, and squeezing fresh limes.

He loved being there and spending time with her. She had this way about her, treating first-time customers like old friends and regulars like family. She loved to make people smile. She loved the community. She loved Alex, kissing the top of his head and slipping him twenty dollars, a life-changing amount when he was six, for his hard work.

Then he got older, and other things took precedence. Studying, sports, and girls…he didn’t have the time or desire to get up early on a Saturday morning and sit beneath a tent in one hundred-degree heat.

She said she understood and that he was becoming his own person and finding his path. There were no hard feelings. He still loved her, and she loved him, and he’d still get twenty dollars in a card sent to his dorm at UT at the end of the season.

Abuela passed the winter before he graduated college, and a few weeks after graduation, he got a call from the market organizers asking if he’d be taking over her booth.

“What kind of guilt trip is that?” Alex asked June afterward, tipsy on tequila in his small post-college-pre-job apartment. “She put me down as a contact, she knew that they’d be calling. What am I supposed to say, never mind, let my grandmother’s beloved business fucking rot?”

“I wouldn’t say it exactly like that, but yeah,” June had said. “You’re not under any obligation to continue.”

“If I don’t, then who? You? Dad?”

“No one,” June said. “Sometimes things just end. It sucks, and it’s sad, but it’s the way things go. You should tell them that she loved attending and being a part of the market and that our family appreciates the offer, but you’re not in a place in your life where you can make that kind of commitment. Simple. They’ll understand.”

Alex shook his head. “I can’t do that.”

“Why?”

“Because I already told them I’d be there. The market starts in two weeks.”

That was five years ago.

Now, Alex lives in an understated but pricey loft downtown. He works at a law firm that offers enough pro-bono work that he doesn’t feel like his soul is dying and contemplates going into politics each time a politician does something stupid, which is almost all the time. He dates and hangs out with his friends, and every Saturday morning, from nine to one, he sells drinks to market-goers behind the Barton Creek Mall.

“You’re going to cut your finger off.”

Alex looks down at the cutting board where his index finger is dangerously close to the paring knife he’s using to slice strawberries.

“Told ya,” Nora says from her perch on the stool.

“Fuck,” Alex says as he puts the knife down.

“Please don’t swear,” June says sing-songs through an over-the-top smile as she passes a family with three small kids their watermelon agua frescas. And please don’t cut your finger off.”

“Yeah,” Nora agrees, “the hot paramedics aren’t even working today, so it would be a total waste.”

“Not that he would care,” June says, “he’s been staring at Henry for the past three hours.”

“I have not,” Alex snaps, “and how do you know his name is Henry?”

“Because we’ve actually spoken to him instead of staring at him like a big creep,” Nora says.

“Aren’t you supposed to be helping?” Alex asks.

“I am. I crunched the numbers. Did you know that raising your prices by just ten cents increases your earnings—.”

“No, no,” Alex interrupts, “I don’t want to know, I don’t care. I’m not in it for the money.”

“Everyone is in it for the money,” Nora deadpans. “Even rich lawyers. Hell. Especially rich lawyers.”

“I’m different. This is how Abuela Lina and I’ll continue to do it this way, too.”

“Yeah,” June says, “he’s not here for the money. He’s here to pine from afar over Henry.”

“Would you please shut up,” Alex begs as June and Nora cackle.

“Just go talk to him,” June says.

“And say what? Hey, I work at the booth over there, and I’ve been trying to count the freckles across your nose for weeks now?”

“Oh, yikes,” June says.

“Down bad,” Nora adds with a shake of her head.

“I hate you both,” Alex tells them.

“Just go and bring him a drink,” June says. “Tell him that it’s hot and that you thought he might need it, and don’t you dare come back here without his number.”

“What if he doesn’t want to give me his number?”

“Then you move on and stop mooning over him.” She shoves a cup into his hand. “He seems like a pineapple kind of a guy.”

“You know what they say about pineapple, right?” Nora asks, and Alex grabs the cup and steps out of the booth so he doesn’t have to listen to her.

The peach guy—Henry, apparently—works at Fox Family Farm, or at least that’s what the pale yellow banner with a minimalistic sketch of a fox, its tail curled around a full peach basket, hanging on the front of the booth says.

He’s taller up close, blonder too, and when Alex hovers just a few feet away, he’s shocked at how blue his eyes are.

It’s like he was created in a lab to specifically become Alex’s problem. His very hot problem.

“May I help you?” Henry says in a British accent.

Alex nearly drops the drink.

“Fuck,” he swears as he scrambles to grab it. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not sure you did anything wrong.”

“Right, this is for you,” he says, setting the cup down before he almost drops it again. “I work at the booth over there.”

“Yes, I’m aware,” Henry says, waving at June and Nora, who are crowded close together to watch.

Alex steps into Henry’s line of sight, blocking them.

“I just wanted to introduce myself since it’s obvious I’m the only one who hasn’t.”

“Technically, you still haven’t done that.”

“I’m Alex.”

“Henry.”

“Yes,” Alex says, “I’m aware.”

Henry smiles wide and bright, and Alex guesses that at least two dozen freckles are dotted across his nose and cheeks.

“Can I ask,” Alex starts, “what the hell are you doing in Texas?”

“Would you believe me if I told you that my grandmother passed and left me a peach orchard?”

“No.”

Henry hums. “A shame. Maybe I can take you to dinner and convince you.”

“Wow,” Alex says, “I was sent over here just to get your number.”

Henry grabs a pen and a scrap piece of paper. “I can give you that as well.”

[bubblebaththoughts]

Honesty - Joel Miller

joel miller x f!reader

After working with eachother for nearly five years Joel begins to open up

Warnings: ten years before the events of tlou but reader and Joel have only known eachother for five years, age gap(reader is 29 and joel is 46), typical canon violence, angst, comfort. sweet joel miller. no direct feelings are confessed but its implied

"Jesus- fucking- Christ." Joel grunted as he pushed the now-dead runner off of him and into the snow

"Get up, we have to go." Y/n said as she continued to move along through the forest

"You almost killed me." Joel complained as he caught up to the woman

"No, that infected almost killed you, I killed the infected, which saved you." She explained, simply shrugging, as if it was nothing

"The bullet went through its head and into the ground, an inch from my face." He exclaimed

"Yeah well you're still here aren't you?" She smiled back at him

Before Joel could respond, a gun went off, somewhere behind them.

The pair looked at eachother, and in a moment where they felt like they read eachothers minds they both took off, towards their destination.

Their destination in question was a small ghost town, less than a mile from where they were currently at, a place where you could hole up, in case of any trouble.

"We're gonna find y'all! No reason to run!" The manic voice rang out, through the woods

"Shit, Joel, the snow, our foot prints." Y/n reminded him

"Through here." He pointed to a grove of trees that had leaves so thick that the snow barely fell through "It's a longer route but we'll get there." He reassured

It would only take about five more minutes than the other route but if they moved fast enough they could cut that in half.

On their way to the town, three more shots rang out into the woods, each sounding closer and closer.

"Hold on a second." Y/n stopped as the put her hand on a tree to catch her breath

"I thought I was the old one?" Joel found a way to make a sarcastic comment "Cmon now, we gotta go."

"Okay, Okay, I'm coming." She began following him once again, trying to keep up with the man in front of her they were now on the outskirts of town

"I can hear you!" The manic voice started up again, sounding closer than ever

The voice came from complete silence, scaring Y/n causing her to trip uo as she looked back to see if the man was close.

"Shit!" She exclaimed as she immediately felt the pain in her ankle

"Damnnit y/n." Joel grumbled as he turned back to help her "Can you stand?"

"Joel, it hurts." She groaned

Joel sighed as he scooped her up, holding her head to his chest. "You're lucky you're useful." He remarked

What he meant was: You're lucky I like you enough to not leave you behind."

"Act like we ain't been friends for damn near five years." She chucked against his chest

"Friends?" He asked

"Co-workers, acquaintances. Whatever you want." She dismissed

"Cmon, we're almost there." Joel sighed as he led them behind an old butcher shop and began to open up the cellar to get inside their hide out.

They'd had to hide there before, when they got stuck in a pinch, hiding from both living humans and the infected, one time or another.

Joel jumped down first, it wasnt a bad jump, just four feet, but if y/n jumped down there with her ankle, they would be spending longer in there than needed

"Cmon, I got you." He said as he raised his arms to catch her

"I got it." She began to climb to the edge

"Stop bein' stubborn, you're gonna hurt yourself." He grumbled

Y/n let her legs hang over the edge before she jumped down, letting him catch her. His hands landed on her waist, immediately slowing her fall, and her feet lightly hit the ground.

His hands squeezed at he waist, as if to say "I told you so" before he said anything he let her lean against the wall so he could close them in.

"Damn it's dark in here." Y/n said as she waited for Joel to light the small lamp in the corner, soon after, he did.

"Come on now, lets get this elevated." he said as he walked her to the back room in the dinky basement

There was a bed and a small side table in there, and in the main room there was a couch, a shelf of board games, along with a shelf of canned food, courtesy of you and Joel.

The pair had assumed that whoever owned this butcher shop had some free time on their hands, with all the board games and what not.

Joel set y/n down on the bed, letting her rest for a second before he pulled one of the pillows down the put under her foot "Keep that up." He pointed to her ankle as he backed out of the room

Y/n nodded, leaning down to pull the boots off of her feet and took the sock off of her hurt ankle

She then sighed letting her head fall against the other pillow.

Sleep came to her fast than expected, but it felt as soon as she fell asleep she was woken up by the cellar doors slamming shut.

"Y/n? Here I got this for ya." Joel came in as he held out some medical wrap, a bottle of water, little white pills, and some romance novel he found on the shelf at the pharmacy he "borrowed" from.

"You left?" She questioned as he sat down next to her foot, beginning to open the package

"I came back, didn't I?" He shrugged as he pushed the bottom hem of her jeans up

"You're right." She sighed, not in the particular mood to argue

"I know I am." He scoffed, continuing what he was doing

There was a long moment of silence as he wrapped Y/n's ankle.

"Here, take this." Joel hamded her the water and the little white pills

"What is it?" She asked, examining the littpe pills in her palm

"Painkiller, should help you." He shrugged

Y/n downed the pills, better that than nothing.

"You okay?" He asked, trying to get her to make eye contact

"Embarrassed, but could be worse." She shrugged

" 'M sorry bout your ankle." He sighed

"Don't worry about it, it was my fault." She replied

Joel leaned foward "I worry, okay? It's just bad luck I guess."

"Better luck than some people." She smiled, hoping he knew what she meant

"You always know what to say, huh?" Joel scoffed, smiling down

"I think I'm just making up this shit as I go along." Y/n shook her head at the thought

There was a small second of silence, of just them, only them.

Y/n decided to break the silence "Y'know I feel like I don't really know anything about you, Joel."

Joel's smile dropped "What do y-" He stopped to clear his voice "-wanna know?"

"Anything you're willing to tell me." She explained as he began to awkwardly look around the room to avaiod eye contact

"What's there to know? Everything we've ever known is long gone, trust me, you know a lot about me than most people." Joel grumbled as he stood up from the bed, knowing she wouldn't follow him because of her ankle

"But-"

"Quit it, you need to rest, we'll talk later." He ended with closing the door to the room, though she could still see the shadow of his boots at the bottom of the door, she watched for a second as he stood there.

As he stood there he was debating going back in, instead, from the other side of the door he says, "You've met Tommy, my brother." Before continuing, he sighs "I have- had. I had a daughter, before all this."

Y/n heart sank, she felt like she'd pushed him too far.

"Her name-" He paused, not sure if he should keep going, or to let it go "Her name was Sarah."

She could hear the pain in his voice as every memory flooded back to him.

"And she was everything to me." And that was the end of that, y/n watched as Joel's boots got farther away from the door

Y/n grabbed the book Joel picked up for her, flipping to the first chapter, she wasn't tired, and there was nothing else to do.

Time began to pass as she advanced in the book, she heard Joel snoring, and then Joel stop snoring, assuming he had woken back up.

Y/n pulled the blanket from her body, swinging her legs overso she was now sitting on theedge of the bed. "Here goes nothing." She scoffed to herself as she pushed up from off the bed.

The pain had mainly subsided, thanks to Joel's painkillers but it was still tender as she limped to the door, dragging it open.

The door opening gained Joel's attention as he strained his head to look back at her "What're you doin' up?"

"Got tired of bein' alone." She shrugged, making her way to the couch "Move your legs."

Joel pulled his legs back, adjusting himslef so he was sitting upright again, to let her sit down next to him

"Well you know I'm not much for company." He shook his head, setting the book he had gotten for himself down on the arm of the old couch

Y/n sighed looking into the older mans eyes "I'm sorry about earlier Joel, I didn't-"

"I know, I'm sorry too, I didn't mean to freak out on ya." He cut her off, saving her from trying to explain herself farther "You were honestly right, we don't really know much about eachother."

Y/n sighed again, knowing he was right. She still felt guilty for earlier, feeling like she now owed him.

"I had a kid too." She revealed

Shock came through Joel's body, "You had a kid?"

"He was only four when all of this started, we had made it to a FEDRA-run quarantine zone, I thought we would have been safe there. It was about a year in, when they kept making promises that were never ever being fulfilled." She paused, mainly to see if he was still listening, which he was, already nodding for her to go on.

"City was taken over by rebels, they all gathered everyone in the center of the city and began executing whoever they felt like deserved it, told the remaining to join or leave the safe-zone. It was like a stampede, Joel, I was so scared." Y/n's voice cracked as the first tear began to fall

"Oh darlin' come here." Joel held his arms open, letting her fall into them

"He was ripped from my arms," She continued, though now the tears couldn't be stopped, as a sob came from her

"I know, I know." He soothed, squeezing her around the waist with one hand and the other rubbing her back

"I was only fifteen when I had him." She sniffed, "He was all I had.'

"I had Sarah young too." Joel shared, holding y/n closer than ever

Joel started to imagine y/n's little boy, he imagined he looked just like her, hopefully getting all of her best features.

"The worst part is." Y/n began again, "I don't even know what happened to him."

Joel felt like sword had gone through to his heart, the thought of the unknown, not knowing whether or not he was alive must tear through her everyday. In that moment he realized she was stronger than he ever imagined, she had been carrying that weight with her, with absolutely nobody to help her through it.

"I like to think that he's still alive. you know?" She explained "But then again I don't think I'd want him to have to grow up in this world anyways."

Joel's arms felt like heaven to Y/n, the warmth he gave off, and the way he was trying his best to not squeeze her too tight.

"You trust me right?" Joel asked, deterring the subject

"Of course I do." Y/n answered

"Good, I trust you too."

Y/n felt the double meaning of the sentence, she felt that's the closest she'd ever get to Joel telling her that he loved her.

There was very few people either of them trusted anymore, the mutual feeling of trust settled into comfort, giving them a relaxed state of mind for the time being.

[incarnateirony]

I do find it so very cute that 2po is pretending Dean's presence is just a WB or CW demand, and that 'more dean' would just be that

bruh the network draft had more dean. they were originally planning to have more dean. Not like a fuckload more but just some clips and snippets with his narration. The only reason THAT moved is because his hair and beard are all over the place from his other roles. From network to production, and from arenas to screen, and from creation to air, Dean's presence has ALREADY been considerably reduced. Jesus. Yeah. REDUCED NOT INCREASED. lmfao.

fuckin cope man. jesus. the. god it's hitting the point he seems to be hallucinating that if he speaks it loud enough, it'll come true. This isn't The Secret, pal.

I repeat: There is no one to demand jack schitt from Jensen Ackles right now. No matter what a very upset jared stan pretending he gives a FUCK about anyone else in tfw wants to claim as an ego salve.

So here's your ten bazillionth reminder.

Jensen already secured all necessary licensing for this. (and owns new characters/content)

Jensen already got everything greenlit (as an LGBT Scifi-Romance)

Zaslav cut red tape on creative executives after firing his board

WB's 3 tier reporting system is over under Zaslav

Creative Execs report directly to Zaslav, but only if he calls them because there's a problem with the numbers. If he calls, he wants you to answer. Because if he's calling, your numbers are wrong, and he's fixing it

otherwise, pop off, creatives

Zaslav will not interfere and is the only one at WB that can now. Roth made sure to advise him on the viability of the franchise and Jensen as a peak connected creative to the content.

Nexstar-CW doesn't fucking care. Miller and shit has no fucking opinion of TW or even SPN beyond general awareness. Again both he and Schwartz will continue to let the show go on as long as it pulls numbers and otherwise abides by primetime 18-49 S&P.

All around, all new leadership cares about is fucking money and numbers working out, and as long as the new show is doing that, it can go. The new show is already forming its own expectations. This isn't Pedowitz's CW or Sarnoff's WB. Nexstar ate CW. Discovery ate WB. WB-CW just became Discovery-Nexstar, and 2po is out here hallucinating some FUCKING universe where Mark Pedowitz is gonna pop out of a fucking genie bottle and go ALAKAZAMKAZOO MORE DEAN FOR YOU and that's it, that's why there'll be more dean.

fuckin no. jesus how is this man so easily fucking confused by BRAND LABELS. I swear I could hang a sign reading "giraffe" on a giraffe enclosure, walk out the giraffe, replace it with a gorilla and 2po would bitch until he passes out insisting the gorilla is a giraffe bc the front still says fucking giraffe.

my head hurts, what magical fairy dust is he imagining making this universe work for him now? The same one time traveled back a few years when international licensing was the entire CW game before we broke their fucking kneecaps to make it function like normal TV?

When there's more Dean, it's not because Ann Sarnoff manifests from the old-WB void to fucking "make" Dean do it. No old guard is coming back to "demand" SHIT.

When there's more Dean, it's because it was always meant to have more Dean, and increasingly so on the back end of the season and the resolutions itself.

Dean's resolution is itself fucking CRITICAL to this. I think this is a new conscious spin on his part. When the end comes he'll say, "THE NETWORK/STUDIO DEMANDED THIS!!! HOW AWFUL!! JENSEN LOVED THE FINALE!! HE HATES THIS DESTIEL!! HOW DARE THEY *MAKE* HIM DO THIS!! OMG."

Fucking no dude it's the fucking ending and always has been.

cope. And get off the internet, you goddamn doxxing, grifting asshole. or maybe the planet. And since I don't suggest self harm can you just fucking jettison yourself into space and stop bogging us down.

[faller-fears]

Hard to kill

Uh-- name's Fennec. Probably. I mean, it's the one I'm using right now, you know? Sorry, sorry, it's just-- it's weird, okay? You know how it is. There's the deadname, the name I tried out for a while but it didn't click, the name for friends only, the online name, the fursona--

Fennec Mortimer is fine. Well. Anyways. Today's....friday, I think? Yeah. Statement begins?

So, I guess I've always been kind of an adrenaline junkie. As a kid, I was always that weird little girl who hung out with the boys and climbed trees, but I went faster and higher than any of them. Hated skirts, not 'cause they were girly but because they were impractical, same with hair long enough to grab.

When Plasma was active, I was almost old enough to go on a journey, in my mind, but I wasn't allowed to, because, you know. Moms have this gossip grapevine, and she'd heard that a friend of hers had a daughter whose pokemon had been stolen by Plasma. They got it back, in the end, and the girl ended up settling down as a lab assistant, but the point is...well. My ten year old brain was convinced that if I just harassed enough grunts with flaming pinecone molotovs, they would all explode into sparkles and I'd suddenly be allowed to go on my journey.

I think mom was hoping that me coming out as a boy would make me calm down. She walked me through all the legal and medical stuff, got me a haircut and dye, even called Dad back from his work in Kanto so we could have some proper father-son bonding. And it was great, don't get me wrong! It just... I dunno. Didn't satisfy that urge.

Neither did my journey, really. I just... gods, how do I even explain it? It felt like there was something missing. I couldn't explain this gaping hole in my life, for something I didn't know the words for. I needed more, and I needed it constantly, and I was always vibrating with this...need.

Anyways. I got into urban exploration after a lot of wandering places I shouldn't have been, and I think mom was relieved. She got into it too-- got me a proper dust mask to filter out stuff, a sturdy pair of boots, and a first aid kit. When my friend Sol suggested we start a poketube and record ourselves, I'm pretty sure my mom slipped some money to them out of sheer relief. It meant we'd be going safe places, taking video, and she'd have some semblance of an idea where I'd been.

Well. Our first video was the old Plasma castle, see. I'd fucked around in the Unova underground enough to find an entrance, and it seemed stable enough, so we were getting to a part that was off limits to the public. Dist, it might not have been a place that anyone had seen for ages! So yeah, we were excited to go down there. Maybe mom didn't know about the whole secret base we'd set up underground, but she'd be happy that I was getting out and doing something marginally less stupid than usual.

I didn't wear the mask. I know, I know, stupid, but listen-- gender euphoria is a hell of a drug, and I'd somehow gotten it into my head that if I wasn't wearing the dust mask, maybe I'd start growing hair on my face instead of my-- you know what, that's not going in the official log. I wanted facial hair, is the point.

We pushed our way in and started recording-- introduced ourselves, had a silly little moment or two, then started walking. We were in one of the lower hallways, where the grunts had lived, and it was lined wall to wall with old tapestries and hanging fabric to insulate it.

They just... lived underground like drilbur. Kind of fucked up, seeing so many of them in the aftermath, pasty pale and blinking like they'd never seen so much daylight. Also kind of fucked up that they were just allowed to walk free after the shit they pulled, but I guess my beef's not with the grunts. Not really.

I knew, vaguely, that they were some kind of cult who'd been taught a revisionist history, that Reshiram was some great hero and Zekrom was the lesser jealous villain, but this... cemented it. Suddenly it was like we were walking with the memories of real people, in that hallway full of tapestries.

And most of them were burned. Not completely, just... bits and pieces. Precise. As we went on, we started to notice the patterns. A lot of the tapestries were just...everyday stuff, people going about their lives, woman posing with her skitty stuffed in a silly dress, bunch of guys eating dinner together.

The burn marks were just... I mean, I thought they were chemical burns at first. They bleached the surrounding threads a pure white, but they smelled no different than actual burned fabric. And I would, unfortunately, know what burned fabric smelled like. I didn't process what was being burned out at first until I saw a tapestry of a classroom-- one room schoolhouse kind of thing. And every single child was bleached white and burned through, leaving a swiss cheese mess of empty desks and scenery.

I wish I knew what happened next. But in all honesty, there wasn't even panic or darkness or any warning, I was just staring at the ceiling, like I'd spaced out. And I started to realize that someone was yelling my name.

I....should have panicked. I mean. It looked like some kind of torture dungeon, exactly the kind of thing you'd see in a cult. Sol was...locked in some kind of cage. I dunno, I was strapped down to a table and couldn't really turn my head. But it felt right, somehow. I mean, it's going to sound stupid. You're going to laugh. But my heart was pounding like crazy, and for once I wasn't vibrating out of my skin. Like this was the adventure I'd always craved.

I...don't know if I should be telling you this, actually. After all... it's not like I can get back what he stole from me. Fuck it, I

[the-fiction-witch]

Soon I Promise

Media IRL

Character Thomas Brodie Sangster

Couple Thomas X Reader

Rating Flirty

Concept Sugar baby’s toy boy

I sat at my vanity fixing my face to look as beautiful as possible watching the clock as closely as possible. When I was done with my face I got up and grabbed my tiny little satin dress leaving little to the imagination, and as soon as I slipped on my dagger heels to match I saw the Bentley pull into the driveway. So I scampered out of my suite and down the hall standing at the top of the stairs giving my dress an adjustment as the door clicked open so I stood looking as good as possible. And in stepped my husband in his black suit he smirked at he saw me

"Hello gorgeous"

"Hello darling," 

"You've been good?"

"Always" I smiled coming down the stairs he gave me a slight glare so I moved to press a kiss to his cheek 

"I did get the bill in for the gold card?"

"I was just treating myself to some new dresses" 

"Ask next time, alright pet?"

"I will"

"Good. Right I'm off out to the club I'm taking the BMW, don't wait up" 

"I won't you have fun" I smiled he happily took the keys and headed back out the moment I heard his car go I let out a breath relaxing thrilled my two minutes a day of having to look presentable was over grabbing my phone from the table as I wandered into the living room sitting in the chair by the fire looking out across the windows and pool typing the numbers in and letting it ring but it quickly picked up

"Awww hi y/n" hi sweet voice cooed 

"Hi Thomas" I smiled

"What is the nature of your call? Not that I don't like to hear from you"

"Lonely" I pouted

"Why don't you go snuggle with your husband"

"He's gross. And boring. Especially compared to you"

"How sweet"

"And he's not here"

"Isn't he?"

"Nope. Club with the boys he'll be gone all night"

"I can take a hint. I'll be over in ten minutes" 

"Pick up dinner on the way, pretty please?"

"Alright, usual?'

"Yeah"

"Alright see you in a bit" he smiled before hanging up the phone 

So I smiled and set the the tv up waiting rather impatiently until I heard the sound of the three motorbike revs at the gate so I unlocked it and opened it letting him pull inside and park up as I got up and went to the door as he pushed it open his helmet in his hand leather jacket over his blue button down and jeans his bag over his shoulder and he stopped short seeing me 

"Whoa-"

"Hi"

"Hi… holy fuck."

"What?" I giggled

"Look at you! You look fucking beautiful" 

"Awww you mean it"

"Of course I do." He Cooes setting his helmet down and wrapping his arms around my waist to give me a soft cuddle "how the fuck does he walk out of this house everyday with you looking like that" 

"Why wouldn't he?"

"Because you look incredible, I couldn't walk out of this place if I had to leave you looking like this." He says

"You're too sweet to me"

"Well someone has to be" he smiled pulling me into a kiss I happily kissed him back even if he tightened his grip clearly over excited till he pulled back

"Come on, I'm hungry" I told him tugging him down to the kitchen as usual where we set up for the two of us two cook the dinner he brought for us to make together often kissing and cuddling as we cooked 

"Where is Dan anyway?"

"Club"

"Ohh, so off with his rich buddies having eighteen year olds grind on him" 

"Pretty much"

"Not to be rude-"

"But?"

"But. Why did you marry him?"

"I didn't mean to"

"... Hu?"

"I just wanted a sugar daddy and that was going pretty well until he asked me to marry him, It was over text I didn't think he was serious so I said sure next thing I knew I had a plane ticket to my own wedding in Hawaii and a diamond the size of a babybelle on my finger" 

"You didn't have to go through with it"

"I know, I could have said no I could have gotten out of it but it's nice not having to work, or think about money. Just wish it wasn't quite so boring."

"The money really worth you being this unhappy?"

"Thomas. This dress was five thousand pounds"

".... Fuck"

"I have access to every card, every account, and every car I want. It's nice to no have to worry over things"

"Point taken. I mean I guess he's still your sugar daddy"

"He is. I just talk to him less" 

"I mean… he's also kinda my sugar daddy I guess?"

"Kinda he did buy you your last for suits, and our trip to Iceland last Christmas" 

"How are you explaining that away anyway?"

"He checks how much and what shop, not what it was."

"And he pays for our dinner every other day"

"He does?"

"Yeah I pay for our food on the black card you have me that's his isn't it?" 

"Yeah that's Dan's," I smiled nuzzling with his chest 

"You know… if you got a no fault divorce you'd probably sneak away with a comfortable amount of money"

"Yeah? Then what?"

"Then, you and I could get married?" 

"Very funny Tommy"

"I mean it"

"When he dies. I have a life insurance" 

"You… you are an evil little thing aren't you?"

"I am"

"Why not divorce him take all his money and then kill him for his life insurance"

"Because that's way more suspicious" 

"Good point" he nods "I assume you have a plan then?"

"Yep, he's going to Aspen with his friends in November, one will be bringing his assistant. We have an agreement that she wants her boss dead. I want Dan dead. She's going to flood them with alcohol, dress them in ski gear and shove them under a frozen lake to down. Then scampered out of the country on a pre planned trip to New Zealand where she will be changing her name and cashing the check I send her once this is all over"

".... Alright then. Then we can get married?'

"After a suitable five months of grieving and the checks have all cleared then yes"

"Fine. If I have to wait that long can't we atleast plan a nice little trip? Just the two of us?" 

"Soon I promise"