#//makes me want to say more about the fic but that would mean spoilers so 🤐

[gojoest]

𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐄 — gojo satoru

MDNI, f! reader, she/her pronouns used, wc: 3.3k, flashback of how you met (1st part of the fic, past tense used, then we jump back to present, divider used to separate the two timelines. both take place on his birthday btw), suguru makes an appearance (as satoru’s wingman :3), established relationship (you’re married & have a daughter), reader wears a dress, first time face sitting + riding (oral, f! receiving), pet names (baby, my love), he cums in his pants, breeding implied at the end (sort of, to avoid spoilers)

a/n: happy birthday to my biggest mental illness ♡

side note: if the story of how you met sounds familiar to you, please note that it was from one of my talk posts from a while ago & i decided to make use of it : )

what gojo satoru wants — he always gets.

after all, it’s how he made you his as well.

“satoru, you’re staring way too hard at her”, suguru nudged him on the arm.

“think she noticed, too?”, satoru chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, ears turning slightly red from embarrassment, unsure if it was because he got caught or that it was too obvious he was checking you out.

“very likely. i mean, it’s hard not to notice an annoying pair of blue laser beams persistently invading your space”, suguru mocked. “are you going to talk to her?”

“yes”, satoru firmly replied, without peeling his eyes from you, “i’ll ask her out, i think”

“hey, hey. slow down there”

“nope”, satoru shrugged, almost like a stubborn child disobeying his parent, “i’ve made up my mind — i really want to make her mine”

it was a pure coincidence, or some might say fate, that you ended up in the same restaurant — he was there celebrating his birthday with a small circle of friends while you were present to honor your colleague that had just gotten a promotion at work.

satoru’s eyes relentlessly followed your every move, every gesture, from the moment you walked in and settled on the table next to his. it was rather unusual for him to be this interested in someone simply upon sight, in fact, even desiring to pursue something with someone so immediately. it was always the other way around — women would flock to him because of his looks and peculiar behavior, and of course — his money — but he would turn them down without batting an eye. love and seeking romance were never a priority for him, he did not have time nor any interest in them. but here he was, contradicting himself, being blatantly distracted by your presence while somehow trying to simulate an active conversation with his friends, more than frequently averting his gaze to look at you, his brain busy coming up with a plan to get your number by the end of the night.

it didn’t take him too long to finally make his move. he stood up from his chair and walked over to your table, stopping right behind your seat.

“excuse me”, he leaned in, placing one hand at the edge of the table and the other — at the back of your chair, “hello”, his face mere inches away from yours. taken aback by the way he, a complete stranger, had the guts to get this close to you, you turned to face him with a questioning look.

“i felt like i would regret it for the rest of my life if i didn’t come say hi to you”, he spoke.

truth be told, despite being astounded and a bit put off by his approach, you were slightly intrigued. he was handsome, pretty even — like that one oddly eye-catching cloud in a sky full of thousands that you notice as soon as you look up. the white henley shirt he was wearing made the blue in his eyes pop even more, the v-neck revealing a little bit of his well-crafted chest, just enough to leave you tiny bit wondering about the ridges of his abs beneath.

as much as the scenery up close made your cheeks feel hot, his boldness rubbed you up the wrong way, too much to let it just slide, and you snapped. “is that so? well, now that you’ve said your hi, you can go back to your table and live with no regrets for the rest of your life”, you rolled your eyes skeptically, pushing his hand off the table.

“oh, i am sorry”, he chuckled, brushing his hair back with a hand, “but there are three more things i need to do before leaving, i’m afraid”

you raised an eyebrow, questioning.

“first, let me introduce myself — i am gojo satoru, also known as the man to be your boyfriend, then your husband, and then the father of your children”, he smugly said. your eyes widening at the audacity of his declaration that left you at a loss for words. “second, i hope you don’t mind introducing yourself as well — as you are to be my girlfriend, then my wife, and then the mother of my children — it’s only natural that i know your name”, he continued, “and last but not least — i am not leaving until you give me your number so we can make this all work”

wow. this man was really fucked in the head, you were sure of it — who in the right mind would speak such nonsense to someone they just met? “you have to be joking, right?”, you laughed in genuine disbelief.

“no. i am dead serious”, he replied in a heartbeat.

“is this your move? you pull this on everyone you find remotely attractive?”, you narrowed your eyes.

“actually—”, suguru interrupted, placing a hand on satoru’s shoulder as he approached from behind, “no”, he spoke. “believe me when i tell you this — he’s never been this smooth in his entire life. i know he probably came off a bit creepy, considering the boldness of his actions — hell, even i am creeped out because it’s pretty unusual for him to act like this”, he laughed, glancing at satoru to let him know that he got his back on this. “but, what i’m trying to say is — my friend here seems to really like you as i’ve never seen him be so intense and interested in anyone before. he’s also a birthday boy today — so could you at least give him a chance before turning him down so quickly? you can come sit with us before you make up your mind on whether you want to give him your number or not?”

you thought for a second, weighing the options in your mind — he was pretty, although he annoyed you a little bit by being all bossy and arrogant as if you were compelled to belong to him just because he said so. but there was just something about him you couldn’t quite put your finger on that made you question yourself. were you actually drawn to him? you could say “no” and never hear from him again, occasionally pondering over the what-if’s and should-have’s from this night; or you could say “fuck it” and see where this strange encounter goes, and live your life without regrets — as he would say. there — he was already getting under your skin…

“well”, you sighed, “guess i’m down for that”

by the end of the night not only did you give him your number, but also a promise for a date the next day — the first of many to follow after.

“careful, you’ll wake her up”, you whisper, leaning against the doorframe of your 3-year old’s room and watching your husband place a soft peck on your daughter’s forehead.

“can’t help it”, he speaks quietly, “she looks like an angel”, before fixing the blankets around her, making sure she’s tucked in all cozily. “the nanny said she cried for papa while we were gone”, he puts a hand over his mouth to stop his lips from trembling, his eyes filled with nothing but love and tenderness, welling up and flowing from the corners.

“she’s such a daddy’s girl”, you sigh, a soft smile present on your face, “next year we can stay home and invite everyone else over — that way we won’t have to worry about missing her bedtime”.

“yea”, he hums, “let’s do that next year”, giving her one last kiss before turning off the night lamp and tiptoeing to you. “come on”, he puts a hand at the small of your back as you both walk out of the room.

“do you remember”, satoru speaks softly into your ear while walking behind you on your way to your shared bedroom, his front flat against your back, the hand at the small of it now circling around to rest over your navel, while the other — reaches for the handle of your bedroom door to push it open, “the night we first met on my birthday?”, he continues after carefully guiding you inside.

you stop in the middle of the room, his arms still wrapped around you from behind, your hands resting over his and playing with his knuckles.

“how can i not?” you chuckle, tilting your head back to let him rest his chin on your forehead, “that was one hell of a fortune telling you pulled on me back then”

“but i was right, no?”, he brushes his lips on your forehead before leaving a soft peck, “see — you’re all mine now, just like i said”, and then another, ”i made you my girlfriend first”, and another, “then i gave you my last name”, and a fourth one, “and then you gave me a beautiful daughter, made me a father”, before turning you around to face him.

“you partly owe it to suguru though — he eased me into the situation, unlike you”, you reply, humbling him like you always do. your head is nestled on his broad chest as one of his hands caress the back of it. still in his embrace, he slowly walks you towards the bed. sits at the edge of it and straddles you on his lap. his palms finding their way to the plush of your thighs draped over his, caressing them tenderly but needily as his fingertips press and then release against your flesh in quick repetitive motions.

“this is because i asked him to give me a hand in case you cut me off”, he admits, tilting his head to meet your lips, not to kiss but just to keep them brushing against each other as you speak. he loved doing this a lot.

“oh?”, you gasp into his mouth, pretending to be shocked to your core, “you wanted me so much that you of all people, the gojo satoru, had to ask someone else for help?”

“you have no idea. if that hadn’t worked, i would’ve fallen on my hands and knees and begged you to take me”, one of his hands reaching the side of your face, playing his fingers on the strands of your hair covering your cheek before tucking them behind your ear.

“hmm”, you doubt, “is that so?”, nuzzling your nose against his.

“mhmm”, he nods, “there’s nothing i wouldn’t do for you, i thought you knew that by now. it kind of hurts my feelings that you doubt me actually”, he acts offended, pursing his lips and turning his head to the side to face away from you.

“oh my, what have i done now”, you knit your brows and press your cheek against his, pretending to be very, very sorry about what you just said.

“you made the birthday boy sad”, he huffs a silly, somehow obviously forced, pout, “you’ve got to make it up to me somehow”

“i’d do anything to make the birthday boy smile again — just say the word”, you sweetly pamper, patting the top of his head.

“really?”

“really.”

“anything?”

“anything.”

“you promise not to go back on your word?”

“i promise.”

he pulls his cheek away from yours and looks you in the eyes, the blue in his shining with a darker shade of mischief now. and considering the smug smile on his face, you sigh — perhaps you just got yourself played, falling face down into his little trap.

“then”, he points at his own face, “sit on it”

to say you were surprised by his request would be a lie. he’s many times tried coaxing you into doing this in the past but somehow you managed to avoid it, part of you still shying away from it. it’s not like his tongue has never been inside you before. but riding it as if it were his cock seemed way more obscene in your head than anything you two have ever done previously — and you’ve done pretty much a lot.

“well”, you sigh in defeat, seems like the time has finally come, “today’s your lucky day”, you say as you get up from his lap and turn your back — a signal for him to unzip your dress — to which, of course, he immediately complies.

“as it should be”, his crafty fingers work the slider down, slowly peeling the dress off your body and letting it fall on the floor, followed by your lace thong and bra, “it’s my birthday after all”

“the way you always find a way to make things go your way gets on my nerves so much”, you turn around again and push him on the bed and slowly climb on top of him to straddle his chest.

“make a wish before you blow the candle”, you look down at him, your pussy close to his face, the scent of you tickling his nostrils, and he, instinctively almost, takes a deeper breath, rolling his eyes back and hissing with delight.

“freak”, you quickly look away, embarrassed, but he cups your cheeks, forcing you to look at him again, “i want you to look at me as you ride my face”, his voice comes out breathy, “will you do that for the birthday boy?”

you nod into his palms, “you’re insufferable” — “suffocate me then”, he coos through a grin, grabbing your knees to pull you forward until you’re above his face.

“jerk”, you say, but softly, as you lower your cunt on his willing mouth, landing your softness on his face in slow motion, immediately earning a throaty groan from him that shudders through your pussy lips.

satoru breathes deeply in and out with your heat on his mouth, the scent of you hitting his lungs and even below, reaching all the way down to his groin to further nurture his cock already throbbing in his slacks. his hand reaching down to unbuckle them slightly, to give more space for his hard-on to grow freely.

“mowe”, he muffles incoherently into your pussy, grabbing a handful of your ass cheeks to push you against his face, tilting his head up and down, jutting his jaw up and out to meet you.

you whimper at the friction, your clit bumping and rubbing against his nose as his lips are kissing your folds, his tongue slowly poking at your entrance with the tip before darting in — twirling around your walls — and out.

“nghh…s-sa-t-to—”, you barely cry out his name, tugging at his hair, mercilessly pulling him into your heat. as much as you hated to admit it, you loved this position. your embarrassment long gone and forgotten, you ride his face in a haze, your pussy getting wetter against his mouth and your movements — faster and harder each moment.

“heawen on my fongwue”, he groans. if he could speak properly right now, he would probably make the nastiest, dirtiest remarks, shamelessly walk you through every single thing he was feeling as you rocked your hips back and forth, grinding on his face. he would probably say something about your boobs, too. how they looked so pretty jiggling ever so slightly from the movement. he can’t speak right now, yes, but he can still get his thoughts reach you through actions — his hands run along your belly, gripping your breasts from below, squeezing and squishing them inside of his palms.

you clutch his hands with yours, “i can’t hold this position for too long”, and force them down on your hips for support. you hear him say something through a loud groan but it’s barely recognizable — most likely just him cursing “fuck” and “baby” from pleasure under your pussy, but also from the ego boost you just gave him — that he can make you weak but at the same time desperate enough to want to continue — despite your hips giving up — not only with his cock but his mouth alone, too.

you let him take over as you chase your high, weighing on his face as his hands grip on your hips, dictating your every move, composing the tune of your hips. his tongue is no more sliding in and out as he makes you grind harder on his face — it stays in, continuously licking your sweet spot clean.

“f-fuck, fuck, fuck…”, you curse loudly, reaching your hands to grab the head of the bed and hammer your pussy harder into his face, squeezing every last drop of strength left in your already cramping muscles until you cum, shuddering on his mouth.

“mfff”, he groans throatily into your hole, sucking and slurping your juices. his hips buck in the air, helplessly searching for friction to soothe his aching cock. his half-unbuckled pants are drenched with precum, leaking out from his tip through his boxers and out through the cloth of his pants, visibly staining them.

you can’t see but it’s easy to figure out from the way the bed bounces up and down as his ass meets the mattress after every time his hips fall down. “how cute”, you utter as you try to calm down your breathing, cunt still resting over his face.

his eyes are half closed, rolling back and hiding their blue away. all he needs is a little push, a little rub, you know it. you know it by the way his tongue has stopped moving inside you, by the way his hands have loosened the grip on your flesh, by the way his shortened moans have grown into one long and steady groan coming from the bottom of his throat — his entire brain solely focused on the muscles of his lower body that is searching, almost beggingly, for relief.

you lean your upper body back a little, just enough to make it easier to reach his shaft while still sitting on his face. “since you’re the birthday boy”, you drag your words out as you place your hand on his clothed cock, feeling the wetness that’s emerged from beneath against your palm, “i’ll give you a hand.”

his ass cheeks tense and squeeze as he presses his hips against your touch, ferociously rubbing his clothed cock on the flesh of your open palm. his groans get louder as he bucks his hips under your hand, pushing them up to meet your hand harder and faster each time — just the way he forces his cock into your tight cunt as he nears — until the last three thrusts that he always prolongs in order to properly and completely pump his seed out.

the inside of your hand feels hot against his clothed cock as he seeps himself out, the stickiness of his cum absorbing itself into the material of his pants and emerging through it to reach the skin of your palm.

you lift yourself up a little only to plop your body down next to his. his mouth, cheeks, chin, even his nose, are covered in his spit and your cum, all mixed in.

“shit, baby”, he laughs, breathing deeply in and out of his mouth, overwhelmed by the whole experience, “what the hell did you just do to me”

“do you really need me to verbalize what just happened”

“yes”

“no”, you slap his cheek with the back of your hand, softly, before rolling on your side to rest your head on the left side of his chest, kissing it tenderly. “happy birthday”

“it really is”, he whispers, tracing a heart shape over the skin of your exposed cheek with his fingertip, “with you, it always is”

“did your wish come true by any chance?”, you tilt your head to look at him.

“not yet. but i’ll work on it later tonight. for now, i’ll let you catch your breath”

“wait, wait.”, you raise a brow, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“my love”, he clears his throat, “do you remember how i said, when we first met, that you’d be the mother of my children?”

“yea? am i not?”

“children”, he stresses.

“oh.”, it finally hits you.

“one more to go”

[acid-ixx]

I’m new, I just read your fic about neglect reader. I haven’t read through your blog yet but I am so excited after reading this fic. I am an emotional wreck right now and my curiosity is eating me alive with this question “Does reader know about Jason? Will they ever met? Ever have a platonic relationship together? Will Jason be more of a brother to reader?”

I’m sorry I speed through the fic and tears are in my eyes I couldn’t think straight BUT I notice that Jason is hardly there so I’m curious. Please this is such a brain rot, it’s way past midnight after I read this cause I keep stopping to cry.

major (?) spoilers below.

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

hello anon !! im so happy ppl are getting more exposed to the content i have written so far. anyways, i can't believe i also got others to cry bec i did too when i was writing 😭

anyways, to answer ur question: yes! the reader will meet jason and he would actually be the first sibling you would meet after you have left the manor. the way he would turn yandere for you is a different approach to how the others would be because in the prequel, it has been stated that you had your fair share of encounters with him.

"will they ever have a platonic relationship with him/see him as a brother?" maybe, maybe not. because your meeting with him would all be a blur to you, and jason's obsession would stem from the trauma he had experienced, causing him to be more protective of you.

you're not in your best mindset and you're vulnerable walking through the streets of gotham and all alone? oh god, only a dumbass would do that— but once the red hood recognizes your face and the way you carry yourself so pitiably, he immediately tries to take you in his arms just as he should.

but the moment you push him away? tell him to fuck off despite your drunken state? the moment you cry and tell him you could deal with everything yourself without his help or anybody else's? you just remind him of himself and that triggers his first spiral into yandere-ism.

it's the way you share trauma, the way you both feel immense anger. he should've noticed sooner because you two would've been as close as peas in a pod. and yet he failed you by being a hypocrite. you were literally taken into the manor right after his death and discarded like you were mere trash. he should've taken you away when he had the opportunity to but he was too caught up in his feat of revenge.

yet the worst part was that he had taken notice of tim before he did you, and jason had momentarily hated you too because he thought bruce had replaced him. if he had looked through that veil of contempt that he had for you, and saw just how neglected and in need of attention you are, then he would've taken you under his wing.

but he didn't, and he had done the same thing to you as most did.

so take it as you will when i say you're more or less going to be closer (albeit unwillingly) to jason than anybody else because unlike his other siblings who are bound by their vigilante duties, your big brother jason wouldn't mind shooting any creeps who think they could touch his precious angel.

and he gets it, too, angel— you hate him, you hate them all and that's valid. but you can't just walk out in the streets alone and expect to be home in one piece; so leave it to him to scout your apartment alright? leave it to your big brother jason to intimidate the goons who try to stalk you when you're not looking. even if you don't want him near you, you'll always find warm food by your table and a note reminding you to take care of yourself more often.

it hurts when you rip the paper to shreds but it breaks his heart even more if you refuse to touch the meal he would leave for you, because that probably means you saw him as danger more than anything else. and he doesn't know it, but you're already planning to make a run for it now that you're under red hood's radar.

it's obvious that you have no experience when it comes to living by yourself, so please don't fucking push him away and let him protect you from any harm. your self destructive habits only causes him to become more protective of you and it only lets him stalk you more often to ensure nobody would touch his precious angel.

just like dick, you'll be treated more like a child than that of a young adult, but at least jason has the concept of personal space compared to your eldest brother. but still, jason wishes to hold you in his arms.

heaven forbid if the joker ever got his crummy fingers on you. jason would go berserk.

little does he know, little does your family know just how much they had lost the opportunity to keep you in wraps inside the manor.

they should've never let you out in the first place.

[venus-haze]

God's Got a Sick Sense of Humor (Father Charlie Mayhew x Reader)

Summary: Your decision to dress up as a slutty nun for Halloween has unexpected consequences when you make the acquaintance of an equally attractive and disturbed priest. (AO3 link)

Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. Not entirely spoiler-free, but if you’ve watched up to episode 6, you should be good! Also I couldn't find what the parish name was, so I made one up. The gif doesn't really have anything to do with the fic, I just like it🤭 Please look at the warnings before deciding whether to read this fic.

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. Non-con involving degradation, rough oral sex (m. receiving); ambiguous ending.

You knew early on in the night you had made a mistake in costume choice. The vinyl skirt started pinching your waist after less than an hour of wearing it, the nipple pasties were slowly peeling off despite your best effort, and the platform heels weren’t forgiving after several shots of tequila. The vinyl habit stayed in place with the bobby pins you used, but after a while, it felt like it was cooking your head.

Your friends found your plight funnier as the night went on, cracking jokes about how it was God punishing you for wearing the costume in the first place. Lisa had little trouble with her Tinkerbell costume, a green mini-dress and sparkly heels she pulled from her closet and a cheap set of fairy wings from the same Spirit Halloween you got your costume from. Julie’s Bridgerton-inspired costume seemed a bit out of place compared to you and Lisa, but she got a lot of compliments on the details.

For the limited the fun your little desert town had to offer, something was definitely missing from the night out.

“Why did Merritt say she couldn’t make it, again?” Lisa asked, the three of you walking down the street to the next bar you’d inevitably terrorize. All the usual haunts, where the bartenders knew your order and half the patrons were people you’d gone to high school with and definitely didn’t want to see again.

You shrugged. “I texted her earlier, and she said she couldn’t make it, something came up.”

“It sucks she doesn’t hang out anymore,” Julie said. “Did we do something?”

“I mean, her dad’s in a coma, and her mom’s working all the time with those gross murders going on,” Lisa said. “She’s probably the only one keeping things together at home.”

The three of you had known Merritt for years, your friend group becoming tight-knit as time went on. Getting carted to and from soccer games turned into sleepovers and late nights getting fast food. You got to know the Tryons pretty well over the years. Her dad was nice enough, and you always found her mom funny, if not a bit overprotective, but Lois always remembered your birthday.

“I’m gonna stop by sometime this week. It’s been way too long since any of us have seen her,” you resolved.

Lisa and Julie agreed, though you weren’t sure Merritt would appreciate all of you showing up unannounced at her house. You figured you’d be better off going yourself and seeing what the deal was with Merritt.

Stumbling over your platforms, you struggled to keep up with Lisa and Julie until you tripped and nearly wiped out on the sidewalk. You caught yourself on a nearby telephone pole, the lights from the nearby buildings blurring the more you tried to focus.

“Fuck,” you groaned. “I’m gonna call it a night.”

“Are you sure?” Lisa asked.

“Yeah, I’m gonna find a convenience store and then get an Uber home.”

“We can go with you,” Julie said.

You shook your head. “Don’t end your night early because of me.”

“Alright, text us when you get home.”

When the world finally appeared upright again, you looked at the nearby street sign, recognizing where you were, at least. Not far to the nearest shop that you were certain would be open late. You checked your phone for the time and felt especially lame. It wasn’t even midnight yet.

With a sigh, you turned down the street, opening your messages to your most recent text to Merritt. Your FaceTime request went unanswered, so you opted for an audio message instead.

“Hey Mer, it’s me. We missed you tonight!” You paused awkwardly, wishing you could actually talk to her. “Look, there’s a Halloween party tomorrow night, something out in the desert. It’s not too late to get a costume. We could go to the Spirit Halloween in the old Bed, Bath and Beyond—“ A catcall interrupted your rambling. “Look, just call me or something, at least let me know you’re alright? Bye, babe.”

The fluorescent lights in the store were almost headache-inducing, but you powered through for a bottle of Gatorade and a protein bar that you hoped would mitigate the hangover you’d inevitably have in the morning. 

Gatorade in hand, you felt almost dizzy staring at the array of protein bars in front of you, wondering how there could even be so many and if they were really any different. A man walked down the aisle, standing a few feet away from you, though you didn’t pay him much mind until you grabbed a protein bar and noticed he was dressed as a priest.

“Hey, nice costume,” you told him.

“Oh, this isn’t a costume.”

You laughed. “Right.” Your inhibitions lowered, you gave him a once over, your gaze lingering on his handsome face, his muscular arms. “You know it’s a shame we didn’t run into each other earlier tonight, we probably could’ve won a couples contest or something.”

He smiled, though something flickered in his brown eyes that made your guts churn. Except, it likely wasn’t him, as you shoved what you were holding onto the shelf next to you and rushed out of the store.

You wretched, the contents of your stomach emptied onto the blacktop. Tears burned your eyes, your throat scratchy and raw by the time you were done. You felt a hand on your upper back, could barely hear the sound of a man asking if you were okay over the sound of blood pounding in your ears.

Glancing up, you were mortified to see the priest looking at you with concern, though disgust was nowhere in his expression.

He handed you the Gatorade you’d been holding in the store, apparently going ahead and buying it for you. Taking a swig, you swished some around in your mouth before spitting it on the ground. He gave you a handful of crumpled napkins as well, and you tried maintaining what was left of your dignity while getting yourself together in front of him.

You managed a mousy thanks, avoiding eye contact with him.

“Don’t tell me you plan on driving home,” he said.

You shook your head. “I came out here with my friends."

"And they just left you like this? Alone?"

"I told them I'd get an Uber.”

“They'll charge you double tonight," he said. "I can drive you.”

Accepting a ride home from a stranger certainly wasn’t the smartest choice to make, but he actually seemed to give a shit about your well-being. You agreed, if not for the fact that you were curious about him, and the horny part of your brain hadn't shut up since you saw him.

He kept his hand on your back as he walked you over to his car. Almost felt like his fingers were twitching against your skin. 

Getting into his car, you noticed the rosary hanging from the rearview mirror, a saint card clipped to his visor. 

“Oh my god, are you actually a priest?” you asked from the passenger seat as he turned the car on.

“I told you it wasn’t a costume.”

“Shit.”

“Father Charlie Mayhew, from Our Lady of Sorrows, if you don’t believe me.” He smiled, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “What’s your address?”

After giving him your address along with your name, realizing you hadn’t told him yet, you rolled the window down about halfway, finding the fragrant odor of incense and cologne a bit overwhelming for your queasy stomach. The cool night air gave you instant relief, and you laid back on the headrest, keeping your eyes closed for a few minutes. 

Father Charlie filled the quiet with a true crime podcast. Not a particularly odd choice, except that he was a priest, but Catholicism always lent itself to morbidity—his was more modern, you supposed.

“Have you heard about those murders around town?” you asked over the sound of a young woman giving the background of a triple homicide.

“Yes, our parish’s publication has been reporting on it,” he said. “I'm the editor, but one of our nuns is working closely with the lead detective on the case.”

You opened your eyes to look at him in disbelief. “Lois is working with a nun?”

“You know detective Tryon?”

“She’s my best friend’s mom,” you said. “I went to her house all the time growing up.”

“You must know her pretty well, then.”

“Yeah, Lois is one hell of a detective,” you said. “Still, I can’t imagine…whoever’s behind it must be depraved. What he’s doing—it’s not even human, it’s animal.”

“He?”

“I don’t think anyone but a man could be capable of that kind of barbarism, Father.”

“You might be right about that,” he said solemnly.

You drank more Gatorade, hoping to settle your stomach and ease your discomfort with the direction the conversation had taken. But you were the one who brought up the murders in the first place. All had some kind of religious connotation. No wonder the Catholic paper was eating that shit up. 

Catholicism was always predisposed to an especially grotesque morbidity. Open wounds considered blessings. Bones of the holy displayed with reverence. Even bread and wine transformed into the body and blood of Christ himself. Whoever was behind the recent murders was either observant or well-read.

Father Charlie pulled up to your building about ten minutes later, and you internally sighed in relief when he turned the podcast off. You couldn’t wait to get out of the damn costume and into bed.

“Thanks, Father Charlie,” you said. “I owe you one.”

“Actually, mind if I use your bathroom?” he asked.

You shook your head. “‘Course not. Come on up.”

Acutely aware of the costume you were wearing again, it was far too tempting not to show off on the way up to your apartment, swinging your hips a bit more than was warranted, knowing he was right behind you, the tight skirt giving him a full view of your ass. You privately bemoaned the fact that he was actually a priest. What a fucking waste. A guy who looked like him had no business giving himself to Jesus and denying the rest of the world the pleasure.

You took a selfie by your front door, a tired smile and a thumbs up that you sent to Julie and Lisa.

“Just letting my friends know I got home safe,” you explained, noticing Father Charlie staring at you.

You could barely hide your self-satisfied smile when you unlocked the front door. “The bathroom’s through the kitchen, first door on the right.”

“Thank you.”

Making a beeline for your bedroom, the first thing you did was take your heels off. Your feet were still sore, with a mean blister that made you walk funny when you brought the heels over to your shoe rack. You could hear the toilet flush and the water from the sink run in the bathroom. Chewing on your lip, you were almost tempted to ask Father Charlie if he wanted to stick around. If you could just brush your teeth and reapply some makeup real quick, you'd be good as new.

You never got a chance to.

“So, why this costume?” he asked, startling you.

You gasped, turning around to see him leaning against the door frame. “Oh, um—I thought it was funny.”

“What’s funny about it?”

“Well, nuns aren’t supposed to have sex, and this costume is—”

“Pornographic," he said. "I mean, it’s something you get fucked in.”

“Yeah,” you whispered, shocked at his bluntness.

“Chastity. The sacred vow to God that all women of the cloth take, and you—” he scoffed to himself, stepping into your bedroom so he was only a few feet away from you, “you mock it.”

You knew you should’ve picked the sexy nurse costume instead. “I’m so sorry, Father.”

“You will be. Get on your knees.”

“Ex-excuse me?”

“Don’t be crude. This is about repentance.”

The searing venom in his voice made your muscles contort to his will, and you found yourself on your knees. You should have been fighting back, screaming for him to get out, but in your heart you knew it was useless. Back in the convenience store, you noticed his fit physique, and you could hardly count on your neighbors to give a shit if you were in any kind of trouble.

"Do you even know how to make a sign of the cross?" he asked mockingly.

You shakily did so, bringing your left hand to your forehead, then your chest, then to each shoulder. He scoffed, apparently you messed something up, but he didn't elaborate, instead ordering you to repeat after him. The prayer came jumbled from your mouth, 'through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault' over and over until his voice was ringing in your ears like a broken church bell.

The bulge in his pants was impossible to ignore. You kept your eyes focused on his face, even when you heard the sound of his zipper and clothes shifting. But you couldn't help it, not when he was pumping his cock right in front of your face. Your repetition dipped with a slight whimper when you glanced at the size of him, foolishly hoping it was just proximity making his length appear so intimidating and angry, as if it wanted to hurt you just like he did.

“Simply praying won’t do someone like you any good," he said abruptly. "You need another form of penance, something more tangible."

Shoving his cock in your open mouth, you choked at the intrusion, attempted to shift backward and finally make a run for it, but he caught you by the habit you so stupidly kept in place with bobby pins and hit the back of your throat.

"Why don't you give me ten Hail Marys?" he mocked, his looming silhouette appearing outright demonic through your tear-filled gaze.

You didn't know the damn prayer. Couldn't even try to fake it when all you could manage was muffled pleas for him to slow down, go easy on you, have mercy. Your jaw ached, throat burned at the force he used to make you take as much of his cock as you possibly could.

He didn't show any signs of fatigue, save for the beads of sweat that rolled from his face and onto your own. He grinned at that, at you, the position you were in. The church was full of sickos, and he was certainly no exception.

Making one feeble attempt to fight back, your teeth grazed his cock, and just as you tried to work up the courage to bite down, he jerked his hips, cursing under his breath.

"Take it," his voice a low growl as he came in your mouth, ignoring your choking, spit and snot and cum leaking down your face and onto your vinyl costume and exposed breasts, "take your penance, slut."

Father Charlie hardly gave you a chance to catch your breath when he pulled his spent cock out of your mouth. You practically collapsed on your bedroom floor, each gasp of air painful against the back of your abused throat. Grabbing you by the habit again, he hauled you over to your bed, bending you over the edge of it.

He shoved his fingers between your legs and scoffed at the wetness that coated your thighs, your thong doing little to contain your subconscious reaction to the way he treated you. "Oh, that's just shameful," he drawled. "You're not repentant at all, are you? Leading a man of the cloth astray, causing me to sin…why else would you have put this costume on tonight?"

Straddling you from behind like a dog, his body was heavy on yours. With one hand squeezing your neck, the other pressed something against your throat. You reached for whatever he was holding, freezing in panic when you realized it was the hair scissors you kept in your bathroom. He must have swiped it while he was in there. They weren't even that sharp, but the extra effort he'd have to put in to mortally injure you with them would mean it would be all the more painful for you.

“Depraved, animal, barbaric,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “Is that what you think of me?”

You whimpered, feeling his cruel laughter rumble in his chest against your back. “No—no, you can’t be—”

“I was going to do something about that costume anyway, but having that mutual friend in common,” he mused, “I just can’t pass up the opportunity to leave Detective Tryon a personal message. Call it divine will.”

“I’m sorry,” you choked out.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You can tell God yourself how sorry you are,” he whispered.

“No—Father, please don’t—”

[becausebuckley]

michelle's buddie fic recs: week 48!

hello loves i'm so sorry for the delay!! life has been kicking my ass lately BUT i've been reading some good fics still and i'm happy to share them <3

this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading! some might also contain spoilers for season 8.

if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!

any way the wind blows | notathingtoseehere | 10.1k | M

A post s08e08 look into how Buck could backslide into his season 1 habits when his best friend leaves him. hmmm tis the season of speculation for many more months... may i recommend this one to start off with? i love a return to buck 1.0 so much!! also op i need you to know i did in fact say good job out loud lol

can i be close to you? | myemergence | 4.2k | T

“Woah, woah,” Chim laughs, “please, Buck, do not tell us what or who it is you’ve been dreaming about.” A fic written for a prompt on the Buddie discord, about forehead kisses. Fluff ensues. yes i have in fact been going through the entire buddie forehead kisses tag this past week. no i do not wat to talk about it. but i DO want to talk about this lovely little fic!!

cool | LovelyLittleGrim | 5.6k | T

Buck keeps kissing Eddie on the forehead. Eddie has some THOUGHTS about it. eddie has thoughts and so i do and those thoughts are that buck should keep doing this forever and ever <3 so cute!!

eddie diaz can't have sex | notathingtoseehere | 11.9k | M

Eddie Diaz would like to say that the 118 needs a more involved HR department, or maybe he just needs friends who do less meddling. i love firefam shenanigans and i love demi eddie and i love buddie so basically i love this fic <3

eddie diaz vs the buck's boyfriend agenda | songbvrd/@songbvrd | 23.4k | M

Eddie starts gathering information about why no one trusts Tommy. As he grows to hate their relationship more, he learns more about himself and what he wants. eddie's agenda 🤝 my agenda. all of this author's works are a delight and this is no exception <3

feels like falling in love | justhockey | 5.2k | not rated

five times Eddie doesn’t mean to kiss Buck, and the one time he does. delicious delicious 5+1 fic <3

home is not a place | ithilien22/@ithilien-writes | 9.7k | T

In which Eddie has a series of long overdue conversations - with Chris, with his parents, and also with Buck. eddie and chris having heartfelt conversations at the lake!! this is brilliant and captures their dynamic so well <3

howling all night | clytemnestra/@clytemnestraaa | 3.3k | E

Buck helps him pack. Of course he does. Buck’s helpful like that. Eddie leaves for Texas. this hurt in the best way possible <3 so gorgeous!

i've lost my mind | evenatraitormaymend | 9.4k | T

Buck doesn’t tell anyone about his insomnia for six months. Eddie notices anyway, but neither of them talk about it until it’s nearly six am and he wakes up to Buck climbing in his bed—not having slept since before their 24-hour shift started yesterday. Eddie gets to show Buck how much he’s loved. okay two things i LOVE are eddie taking care of buck but also buck researching and setting up routines and taking care of himself, so basically this is the perfect fic for me <3

the aftermath of liberation and love confessions | ElvenSorceress | 17.3k | T

In which Eddie comes out, sexuality is complicated but coffee is not, Buck makes an excessive salad and is also roasted, everyone has a love confession, and December is the most dramatic time of year. this was a lovely lovely morning read a few days ago!! i love me some good idiots in love <3

the missing children's parents club | notathingtoseehere | 34.5k | T

With Christopher in El Paso and Mara pulled out of custody, there's a lot of parents around the 118 that are missing their kids, and a lot of comfort that can be found with each other. not me realising as i'm putting this together that i keep reccing the same author... i had no idea but i promise they're all brilliant brilliant fics!! think i might have to check out their other works lol this must be a sign

'til my lungs give out | time_leigh | 1.1k | G

Buck wakes slowly, gently. He lays still, breathing slowly, enveloped in the soft embrace of a duvet. He is not awake enough to open his eyes and shifts, slowly turning his head deeper into his pillow, feeling the drag of the cotton, smelling home. There is an arm laced over his chest. Slowly, an ear-splitting grin grows across his face. soft and sweet and absolutely tooth-rotting fluff in the best way possible <3

transduce the mind | detectivemeer/@buick118 | 2.4k | E

Buck’s talking about how nearly a third of US gymnasts are in the southeast and how Maddie did rhythmic dance—not dance, Eddie—and he’s reaching for the remote to find their next binge when all the bad ideas Eddie’s ever successfully obliterated resurrect themselves. And Eddie figures, in a cold empty echo, that his life is already ruined. What's one more grenade launched at the rubble? this is STUNNING and so so so well-written, i loved every second of it!!

trying to be cool about it | jukoist | 6.1k | G

Buck and Eddie have always tried too hard to force themselves to like the people they're dating (to varying degrees of success). They have very different responses to realizing how easy it has been to be in love all along. this is the most brilliant most buddie premise ever and it's executed so so well and i love it!! such a good time <3

when everything's on fire | beartowns/@glowingyears | 15.4k | T

Eddie and Chris move in with Buck after a fire. Buck breaks up with his boyfriend, buys a house with Eddie, and realizes he's in love. In precisely that order. oh the buddie house hunting always hits so good <3 this is a beautiful take on that trope and it's just such a wonderful fic!!

[screwitbaby]

naive

hamzahthefantastic x reader (fic)

day 3/7

summary: part 3 of my short story naive (go read the others first)!! hamzah attempts to keep your sanity as your feelings for each other unravel and martin gets in arguments with you and mandy bc what else would he be doing???

contains: SFW content, no spoilers (wink wink) ((smooching))

wc: 2.6k-ish

~

"And that's how I managed to catch my first ever legendary Pokémon."

"Riveting." You nod.

Martin rolls his eyes at your dry response.

"Be honest, do you hate me?"

You take a moment to contemplate your answer and he gasps in offense. "Um...no?"

"Well, maybe if I was Hamzah you'd actually care to listen to my stories."

Now you roll your eyes.

The four of you have been relaxing on the beach, taking the day off from tourist activities to soak up the sun and enjoy the present moment. However, it's difficult to do so when you have a yapping social-cue-ignorer next to you, taking all of your attention away from your much-needed quiet time. As the day has slowly melded into the night, you feel the growing urge to stab your eardrums with the tiny umbrella floats in your cocktail glasses.

"No clue what you mean by that," you say, reclining back on your towel.

"You look at him like the sun shines out of his ass when he talks," Martin quips, looking to Mandy for reassurance, who just shrugs and continues queuing music on her phone to play from her bluetooth speaker. "See? I'm right!"

"Right about what?"

The man of the hour jogs up the shoreline and grabs his towel from his chair, tossing it around his shoulders to dry his sopping wet curls. Your eyes stray down to his pecs and before they can go any lower, you avert your stare to the billowing waves.

"That my dearest girl-pause-friend has feelings for—"

"Hey, look over there!" You point at nothing and their eyes follow, bestowing upon you the golden opportunity to march away with your drink clutched in your tense hands.

You sigh once you reach the bar and rest your cheeks on your fists. The bartender gives you a look so you order a sparkling water, slouching onto one of the stools. A minute passes as you breathe in and out, thinking of ways you're going to torture Martin. Then, a hand is placed on your shoulder.

"Martin, I swear to—oh."

Hamzah raises his hands innocently and sits next to you, a startled expression on his face.

"Sorry. He just pushes too much sometimes," you explain sheepishly.

"Unfortunately, I can be a victim of it, too," he jokes, managing to earn an amused huff from you. "He means well, though. I think."

You smile, about to speak when he notices the drink the bartender places in front of you.

"Another already?" He tsks, grabbing it for himself. "What is it this time?"

He takes a languid gulp before slamming the cup down and making a face.

"It's just water," you laugh out.

"I was expecting a vodka Sprite!" He shudders and blinks repeatedly like he's consumed some sort of evil potion. "You enjoy this?"

"It's refreshing!"

"It's disgusting is what it is." He places his palm on his bare stomach.

"Did you come here just to criticize my choice of beverage?"

"No, no," he says, sliding it over to you as his expression softens. "Um, I actually wanted to see if you were alright."

"Oh... I am," you say, your words sounding uncertain. "Don't get me wrong, I love your guys' company, but my social battery can only handle so much, y'know?"

"I get you." He nods, standing. "Do you want me to—?"

"Stay. Please." You motion for him to sit back down and he does. "I don't know what's up with me, I kinda overreacted."

"What was he talking about anyway?"

Your face warms and you hide behind your other drink, taking a sip of the alcohol to soothe your nerves. There's two ways you can go about this: one, tell him that you see him as more than a friend or two, deflect.

You choose the latter.

"Pokémon."

It's not a complete lie.

Hamzah nods while looking confused. "And that made you angry enough to walk away from the conversation?"

"I can be passionate about my pocket monsters..." you trail off, cringing inwardly.

"Right," he says. He doesn't push any further and for that you are grateful. "Well, you can always talk to me when you get sick of him."

You try, really try to keep your eyes off Hamzah when the two of you make it back, but it's like they wander on their own accord. You watch as he pours the last of his water bottle over his head and ruffles his curls to shake them free of any sand. The salty ocean water leaves his hair to dry in defined coils across his forehead. His tanned skin is lit up in a slight orange tinge from the bonfire you guys are sitting in front of, making his eyes shine in the darkness of the night.

You don't have to talk to Martin to make him realize what he did was too obnoxious, even for him. He hands you his wax pen, resuming casual conversation as if the previous couple minutes didn't happen. With smoke filling your lungs and the heat of the fire against your skin, you relax on your back to observe the stars in the clear sky.

You feel a shift in the sand on your right and turn your head to find Hamzah situating himself next to you. He looks down at you and silently gestures for you to pass the pen to him, inadvertently grazing your fingers when he takes it from your grasp.

"How did you guys get so close?" he asks, slowly exhaling. "You 'nd Martin."

"I don't know, honestly." You paused to think, slinging your arm up to rest your head on. "We always had this sense of understanding with each other. I never really questioned our bond from the moment we met, it came so naturally. Well, except that time I thought I liked him."

Hamzah coughs on smoke suddenly, making you tilt your head up at him. He gives a thumbs up as he clears his throat to mutter a small "I'm fine." You take it as your cue to continue speaking.

"I got over that quick, though. I guess I just wasn't used to a guy making me that happy as only a friend," you think out loud. "When Mandy came along, I would push him to get closer with her because I could see how good they were for each other. Then, I realized the possibility of me falling in love with her was way higher than me ever seeing Martin that way."

You crack a smile, Hamzah following suit. He lies down next to you and returns the pen. The couple are dancing nearby. Mandy puts the volume on her speaker up, attempting to do a spin in her boyfriend's arms just for him to spin in hers instead.

"Has that ever happened to you?" you ask. "Unrequited feelings?"

"Too much," he admits bashfully. "I fall way too fast. Like, it's embarrassing."

"No, don't be embarrassed," you say, turning on your side to face him. "It's endearing."

"Really?" He raises his eyebrows, unconvinced. "It's the worst. I get addicted to their laugh and touch. I can't stop thinking of them, of spending time with them. But I never act on it."

You take his words in, staring at his side profile. "Why not?"

"Fear of rejection," he answers. "I don't know where the fear came from. I wish it would stop me from developing feelings in the first place, though."

"But if you never act on it, how can you be sure that they're unrequited?"

He turns to meet your eyes, "I'd rather keep them as a friend than find out they don't feel the same and lose them altogether."

You feel it then, a pang in your chest. This sweet, oblivious boy would rather bottle his emotions away than take his chances. You can't say you're surprised, Martin had made it pretty clear that his best friend was clueless with love—was that too far fetched of a label to put on this thing emerging between you?

"I think you should have some more confidence in yourself," you say, toying with the bow on your bikini. "Whoever it may be, they'd be lucky to have you."

"Thanks?" He laughs the word out. "Maybe I'm too neurotic."

You hum in agreement, shifting closer to his body, feeling his warmth. "Maybe."

He was swaying his legs, but he freezes as soon as he feels you in his space. You hear his breathing falter and pivot your head to hide your smile. You feel particularly bold in that moment, cross faded and giddy. It doesn't even cross your mind that his words might not have been directed at you. Unlike him, you're willing to take that chance.

Your fingers inch across the sand and make contact with his, intertwining after a considerable pause.

"Hey!" Martin shouts, turning the group's attention on him. "Watch this!"

It all happens in a blur. The idiot gets a running start to jump over the bonfire and the rest of you scream. You and Hamzah sit up to watch as he tumbles over the blistering embers, falling onto his knees on the other side. He throws his fists up in celebration while Mandy rushes over to his side.

"Are you crazy?" she scolds him.

"Damn, I should've recorded that," he mumbles.

She scoffs and crosses her arms, storming off. Martin gets on his feet and chases after her.

"Babe, wait—ah!" He trips and quickly scrambles up the beach. "I was just playing around!"

The couple wander off as you and Hamzah are left in the remnants of the scene, avoiding onlookers' stares. When you finally make eye contact with each other, you burst into chest-clutching laughter.

"I feel bad," you say once you calm down, "Mandy looked genuinely pissed."

"I'm sure she's used to it by now, dating him." He sniffles and wipes a tear from his eye. "Not gonna lie, I thought we were about to watch him cook alive."

The two of you get a few more giggles out, peering forward at the crackling fire wordlessly. Although it's on the way to dying out, what he did was still really stupid. Not to mention the fact that he could've been badly hurt and you guys would've had to spend the rest of the trip taking care of him because of his impulsive actions.

"...I kinda wanna do it now."

"...Me too."

So, the two of you stand a couple feet in front of the flames, on your marks like race horses. Your fingers are still comfortably slotted into his, clutching for dear life. You jump up and down, feeling goosebumps rise on your skin from not only the cold, but your nerves, as well.

"Count down?" you suggest.

"On 3," Hamzah says. "Alright?"

"1." You squeeze his hand.

"2." He squeezes back.

"3." You take a deep breath.

"Go!" Both of you scream and charge forward.

You halt at the last second, but Hamzah follows through. A squeal rises from your lungs as you watch him bound over the fire and land on the other side, alone. He whips around as soon as his feet are planted, looking at you with wide eyes.

"Holy fuck!" He pats his unblemished swim shorts, as if he's expecting to be swallowed in flames. "Why didn't you go?!"

"I got scared!" you cry out, hopping from one foot to the other.

"C'mon, no backing out!"

"I hate this!" You reluctantly shuffle back to your spot at his encouragement. "I don't wanna!"

"Don't think, just run!"

Before you have a chance to deliberate your choice, you sprint alongside the footsteps in the sand and launch yourself over the fire. Shrieking with your eyes closed, you reach the other side and instantly topple into Hamzah's outstretched arms, sending the both of you to the ground.

When you open your eyes, you're on top of him. "You did it! We did—!"

You lean down and capture his lips in a kiss. He's shocked for a moment, his exclamation caught in his throat as your mouths connect. Then, his palms trail up the dips of your waist and he gently kisses you back. Adrenaline rushes through your veins and you tingle all over, from your head to your toes.

He flips the two of you over so his body engulfs yours, your hair splaying out across the sand. Your hands rest on his shoulders, fingers pressing into his skin, trying to grasp at him, grasp at the fact that this is real and you're actually kissing him. He breaks away momentarily.

"It." He breathlessly completes his sentence, exhaling a laugh against your lips before reconnecting your mouths with fervor.

Your tongue swipes at his bottom lip, about to deepen the kiss when you smell something off. You break it apart this time, but he continues to kiss a trail from your cheek to below your ear. When you look down between your chests, you are welcomed by the sight of the hair on his left calf burning up.

"Oh, shit!" you shout, pushing him off of you and rising to your feet.

His eyes drag down your body, then to his, and his eyes widen.

"Oh, shit!" he echoes.

You run over to Martin's towel to grab his abandoned bottle as Hamzah kicks his legs against the ground, trying to suffocate the fire. When you return, you hurriedly toss the water at his shins. You crouch to his level once the flames are extinguished and hold his leg up to see its devastation. His singed follicles crumble off his body, leaving the back of his calf bare and slightly pink with irritation.

"Um," you begin, breathing heavy. "Free hair removal?"

"Fuck," he pants. He scoots farther away from the bonfire and lays flat like a starfish. "That was scary."

You clamber down next to him, slightly delirious.

“We’re back!” Martin announces from afar, his arm around his girlfriend as they draw nearer. “What’d we miss?”

“Nothing.” You and Hamzah speak at the same time, earning weird looks from the couple.

“Okaaay.” Martin narrows his eyes. “Sure.”

“Are you guys good?” Mandy addresses both of you, but she’s looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Hamzah’s leg caught on fire,” you blurt out.

Martin cackles, but Mandy looks genuinely concerned. “How’d that even happen? As if one fire scare wasn’t enough.”

Her subtle jab restarts their bickering, freeing you from having to answer her question. You help Hamzah off the ground and the two of you dust yourselves off. The adrenaline and intoxication seem to wear off at once and you begin shivering from the cold. When you go to grab your measly coverup, Hamzah stops you.

“Here,” he says, handing you his shirt that was tossed aside his towel earlier in the day. “Put it on.”

“Thanks,” you mumble and pull the tee over your head. “What about you?”

He takes the coverup and slips it over his arms, the lace fitting taut against his skin. “It’s a good look, right?”

You grin, nodding.

The dark beach clears of vacationers as the four of you pack your things to head back to the hotel. The couple give each other silent treatment. You and Hamzah attempt to make the situation less awkward by cracking jokes, but it hardly helps. It seems all of you just need to go to your rooms and sleep it off. It’s been a loaded day.

You’re accompanied on your walk to your room by Hamzah, as per usual. You hold your belongings in one hand and his hand in the other.

“So,” he says, running his thumb over your skin.

“Sooo.”

“I guess my fear of rejection was for nothing.”

“You’re so naive.”

~

a/n: BOOM ROLL CREDITS. sorry for the holdup, college and writer’s block are kicking my ass!! lmk if u liked it and how u think this story should/will end ;)

[xoxochb]

percy with a psyche daughter plsss

— lust for life

warnings: none? kind of soulmate au I suppose pairing: percy jackson x daughter of psyche a/n: nonnie I wasn’t sure if you wanted a fic or hcs so I just did hcs because I’m working on a psyche! reader x percy fic right now

୨୧ when percy first saw you he was absolutely enamored— a gorgeous daughter of psyche, and dare he say the aphrodite girls had nothing on you

୨୧ you were nervous at first, psyche is the goddess of the soul meaning you feel things deeper than anyone else, meaning it was easy for you to get attached

୨୧ and you loved percy, that was your problem. but so did tons of other people at camp and you weren’t prepared to get your heart broken

୨୧ but little did you know percy adored you just as much, perhaps even more than you love him, and he wasn’t going to let you slip from his fingers

୨୧ you were close friends, yes, but speaking to you know, confessing his undying love for you was nerve wracking as hell

୨୧ you were uneasy as he spoke, twiddling with your fingers and pulling at your clothes until percy took both of your hands gently

୨୧ you explained to him why you were unsure of being in a relationship, but he thoroughly reassured you that he didn’t want any other girls, just you, only you— the girl relentlessly occupying his mind at all times

୨୧ spoiler warnings: you gave into his irresistible charms

୨୧ but once your relationship progressed you found that he would stay loyal to you and his words

୨୧ anyways, relationship hcs

୨୧ psyche kids have this power were they can read/see people’s aura color so you use this to your advantage to percy’s current mood. you told him about this ability and that idiot wouldn’t let it go

୨୧ literally every second— “what’s my color now” — “what color am I?” — “what color makes me look the sexiest?” (it’s blue bee tee dubs)

୨୧ + psyche kids are definitely good at consoling/comforting people (psychiatrists wink wink) so whenever percy is down he’ll go to you for comfort (but he would’ve regardless of your godly parentage to be honest)

୨୧ you’re very gentle too, with both words and actions, your voice has such a soft tone to it making percy absolutely melt into you

୨୧ he loves laying his head in your lap, he’s such a softie, especially when you card your fingers through his raven hair slowly— it’s his favorite

୨୧ or even when you kiss him gently, your lips pink and oh so soft, he always finds himself pulling you back in after just a peck

୨୧ back to your abilities, psyche kids are almost like an oracle, they can see people differently than everyone else

୨୧ which was something you weren’t sure you could do until percy came along

୨୧ it was during your first kiss when you saw the vision: a string tangled into one hand and another, slowly but surely making their way to each other until connecting at last, soulmates you had known it as

୨୧ but after that his aura always appeared with tiny hearts no matter the mood

୨୧ you knew now, you’d find each other in this and every universe, the adoration failing to falter

[jaybirdluvr73]

You're my Best Friend (nanami kento x reader)

A longer fic version of this

Best friends to lovers with Nanami Kento. Fluff, a little tiny bit of angst but a Happy ending. Mild spoilers. Set in the early 2000s. I was thinking about what to call this and became inspired by the song "You are in love" by Taylor Swift

a/n: this is my first fic like this, i hope you guys like it. Feedback is super appreciated <3

"You're a…what?", you say in disbelief, trying to figure out if your normally level headed best friend has officially gone insane.

"A sorcerer", Kento says slowly, as if he hasn't fully accepted it either. "In the world, there's cursed energy and some people, sorcerers, are capable of using it. Usually to fight curses." 

Your mouth hangs agape as you wonder if this is some prank he's playing on you. But Kento has never lied to you before. (although he's never claimed monsters and sorcerers were real either.)

"I believe you", you say finally, to Kento's relief, "I mean this sounds completely insane but I trust you."

He finally cracks a small smile before frowning as he remembers something. "That's not all"

"What? Don't tell me aliens are real too"

"They want me to go to a school that trains sorcerers" he swallows before continuing, "in Tokyo"

You feel your heart stop as you realise that means you'll hardly see him anymore. Ever since preschool, the one constant in your life has been Nanami Kento. Sitting in class, eating lunch, walking home, no matter what you did or where you were, he was always by your side. 

You can't pinpoint the exact moment you fell in love with him, you just remember waking up one day and knowing. Maybe it was when he would ask the teachers questions for you in preschool, or in elementary school when he tried to bake you a cake by himself for your birthday. It might have been when he started reading all your favourite books so he could talk about them with you or when he spent half an hour trying to win you a teddy bear at an arcade. You may not know when you fell in love with him but you do know that loving Nanami Kento came as naturally as breathing.

"Promise you'll come back to visit", you say, trying to offer a smile. He nods, swearing that he'll never break a promise to you.

Nanami Kento remembers the exact moment he fell in love with you. It was fourth grade and your tenth birthday was coming up. He spent days looking up recipes and baking tutorials so that he could bake you the perfect cake. He spent hours on it. By the time he finished, his mom joked that there was more flour on him than in the cake but it was worth it to see the look on your face when he sowed it to you. The cake didn’t turn out great, the layers were uneven, the frosting was grainy and the entire thing was lopsided. When you saw it, you immediately started tearing up. At first he started apologising because he thought it was so bad that it made you cry. But then you threw your arms around his shoulders smiling widely and told him that nobody had ever done something so nice for you before. From that moment he knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life making you smile like that. 

“- and  I put some of the new Fall Out Boy songs on the playlist too. The new album isn’t their best but”, you stop as you see a strange look on his face. “What’s wrong Ken?” 

“Nothing’s wrong it’s just,” he pauses then says, “You’re my best friend”

“The cheesecake was good but I think next time I want to try the brownie”, you say, shivering as you step outside the new bakery Kento brought you to. “I told you to bring a jacket, " he says, frowning while he takes off his sweater to give you. 

“I didn’t think it would be this cold!” you say trying to defend yourself as you tell him to keep his sweater on so he doesn’t freeze. “I’m not feeling that cold anyway”, he says as he forces the soft material into your hands. 

You put it on, closing your eyes as you feel the warm embrace of the fabric. “It smells like you”, you say before clarifying, “in a good way, I mean.” He just laughs and shakes his head before walking you back home. 

He laughs the same way years later, when you reveal that you slept in the sweater for a week, only stopping once it didn’t smell like him anymore. 

“Kento I know you’re in there!”, you shout, knocking on his bedroom door. “Your mom told me you were home.” He opens the door with a sigh before looking down at you and asking what you were doing here. As he gazes at you, you notice the deep eyebags that weren't there before, and a hardness in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. 

“I’m here because my best friend disappeared! Because you haven’t responded to my texts, or IMs or emails for weeks and I needed to know that you were okay”

“Well you can see that I’m fine. Thank you for checking on me, but you can go now.”

“Fine? Really” , you scoff, pushing your way into the dark room. “You won’t talk to me, your parents told me that you barely say a word to them and you clearly haven’t been sleeping! I want to help you Ken. I want to be there for you but you keep pushing me away.” Your voice softens before you continue, “I know you and Haibara were really close. I can’t imagine how you must be feeling right now”

“Exactly, you don’t know how I’m feeling right now and I hope that you never do”, he yells , “I’ve seen what this life can do to people, I’ve seen the toll it takes on the people left behind. I could die at any moment while on a mission, and I don’t want you to have to feel that kind of loss! I love you too much to put you through that! It’s better this way.” 

“Better for who Kento? Because I’m already miserable without you and you don’t seem to be doing much better! I know that being a sorcerer is dangerous and that something could happen to you. But isn’t it better to have loved and lost than to live life alone, because you’re worried about what might happen?”, you feel tears welling in your eyes before you continue, “I’m in love with you Kento and I don’t care how risky your life is. I’m willing to face any amount of pain if it means keeping you in my life. I would rather have you, and risk losing you, than not have you and lose you anyway.”

Kento feels his world stop spinning as soon as the words ‘I’m in love with you’ spill out of your lips. His mouth hangs open as he tries to figure out what to say. The only words that he manages to get out are, “Can I kiss you” as he leans closer. You nod slowly as you move towards him. 

You can feel his breath tickle your face before his lips finally descend to capture yours. Something warm grows in his chest, like the first flowers of spring blooming after a long winter. The entire world around him disappears as he feels your soft lips dancing against his own. His hands move gently to cup your face as he deepens the kiss. You snake your arms around his waist, feeling the soft caress of his hands on your cheeks. Feelings left unsaid for years come bubbling up and overflows.

When you two finally break apart to breathe, you notice a familiar look in his eyes. And this time, you knew what it was. 

He is in love

a/n: I'm not a huge fan of the title banner i made but lmk what you guys think.

tag list: @jasminelee324

[mypoisonedvine]

𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘧𝘶𝘭 || joel miller x reader

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 || joel wasn't looking for a follower, or a protégé, or an employee— whatever you're supposed to be— when he saved some dumbass kid from a couple runners. but he ended up with you anyways, and you swore to always be faithful to him... in every way.

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 || 9.2k

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 || smut (18+ only; oral f receiving, unprotected sex, very slight dacryphilia kinda?, a touch of degradation and dumbification in there, and virginity loss with some pain and one mention of blood), heavy age gap (not specified but the reader is absolutely an adult), insecure crybaby reader, unrequited love/pining, reader wants to fuck joel so bad it makes her look stupid (and we love that for her cause same), angst, tess getting kinda screwed over but only because it's absolutely necessary for the plot, emotionally repressed joel, mention of reader's parents being deceased (implied to be infected)

this fic does not contain spoilers for anything but minor details from episode one!

They were doing that thing again— where they talked in front of you, as if you weren’t there.

“So we make the run tonight,” Tess decided, standing while Joel sat on the worn-out sofa with his hands clasped and his elbows resting on his knees.  “We should be back by four, that’s when the FEDRA boys have their shift change, so we can avoid too much risk of getting caught.”

“What should I do?” you piped up.  They both looked at you with that oh yeah, she’s here glare and Tess sighed; she didn’t try very hard to hide her frustration with you, but at the same time, she was actually nice to you when she was in a good mood (which was rare).  Joel was less mean but also less nice— he stayed steady in his neutral-to-mildly-irritated state, and you figured if he wanted you to fuck off, he would’ve said so (probably in those exact words, too).

At the same time, they both instructed you flatly: “Keep watch.”

You sighed, shoulders sinking.  “Again?  Can’t I at least—?”

“You’re safer here,” Joel insisted.

“Yeah, and your gun is safer in the box under the bed, but it’s not gonna do shit to protect you if you never take it out,” you countered.

Tess scoffed.  “And what are you gonna do to protect us?”

“I wasn’t,” you admitted.  “You know I’m a great shot, but I wasn’t gonna try to shoot anybody.  I’m quieter than both of you.  I can get in and out better— and nobody’s looking for me.  Everybody knows you’re smuggling—”

“Not everybody,” Joel defended himself in a mumble.

“ — so if I do get caught, I can probably get out of a search,” you bargained.

“And what are you gonna do to get out of a search?” Tess smirked.  “Bat your eyelashes?”

That did sting, but you rolled your eyes and hoped you had effectively looked like it didn’t affect you at all.  “If implying that I’m pretty enough to get out of a search is supposed to be an insult, I can’t wait to hear one of your compliments, Tess,” you replied— but your voice was soft and almost shaky, not as confident as the comeback merited.  That summarized you pretty well: you had the will to be tough, but when it was time to really go for it, your body failed you and your hands got shaky and your eyes watered.  Almost anything could make you cry, Tess had already made fun of you for it; Joel just seemed to get really uncomfortable when you started crying, but you always did your best to hide it from him.  It just didn’t usually work.

Your whole face probably lit up when you caught Joel’s suppressed smile— did he think your joke was funny?  He hadn’t been smiling when Tess made fun of you, so it had to be what you said— or maybe he was thinking of something he would say if he cared enough to say it, some comment about how you could do more than that to get out of being searched.  He didn’t seem the type to make comments like that, but he was well aware what guards might let (or make) a girl do to avoid punishment.

“Whatever,” Tess decided, shaking her head, “you’re not coming with us, that’s the point.”

“Joel gets a say, too!” you blurted out.  “You can’t just pick for him that I’m not coming, he has to—”

“You’ll stay here,” he interrupted.  So much for getting Joel to let you go— you thought maybe he would side with you, for once.  Deflating, you nodded, and they stopped paying attention to you at the same time that you stopped paying attention to them.

Your mind wandered in times like this, when they were talking and it was clear that it didn’t concern you; Tess said once that you had an ‘overactive imagination’, but she hadn’t said it in a really mean way (like she said most things).  You didn’t want Joel to think that you were always daydreaming, but you couldn’t help it sometimes— you really just hoped that he didn’t know he was the subject of so many of your thoughts.

Truth was, he’d caught your eye long before he even knew you existed.  You’d seen him around, doing all those odd jobs he did to make ends meet, and thought he was… well, handsome, but not just that.  Mysterious.  Intimidating, though he didn’t exactly intimidate you— okay, he did, but not like he did everybody else.  He intimidated others because they were afraid he would hurt them; he intimidated you because you kind of wanted him to hurt you.  Not, you know, bad, just… maybe a hand around the neck or pinning you to a wall or something?

It wasn’t in spite of your inexperience that you had thoughts like that— it was because of it; you had been lonely for a long, long time, and maybe it was just fantasy, but you always wanted someone like Joel.  You wanted someone to take care of you, protect you.  You were just guessing that he was capable of that, but he proved it when you met for the first time.

It wasn’t exactly a meet-cute, or even just a pleasant way to meet; you were short on rations, because you’d given most of yours away to Mrs. Davis who was too old and weak now to earn any extra for herself, and someone offered to pay you ten if you snuck something they could sell out of the old mall in the QZ… well, that went about as poorly as anyone would’ve expected.

You asked Joel what he was doing there, after he’d saved you from the runners, but he refused to tell you.  Either way, it was the best luck you ever had that he showed up and fought them off.  For a moment, he’d held you close to him as he pulled you away from the Infected; you wished, later, that you hadn’t been too terrified to appreciate that.

Ever since, you’d sworn yourself to him— in more ways than one, but he only knew about the main one: you wanted to assist him however you could, figuring after he saved your life that you should dedicate it to his service.  Well, Joel had never been interested in your assistance, or anything else about you.  It was actually Tess' idea to let you stay: "if she wants to help, let her do it for free," she whispered to Joel, and he shrugged, and he did.  That was how it ended up like this: you were the squeaky, wobbly third wheel of Joel and Tess’ operation, more often than not doing the least important work if not filling your time with essentially goose-chase tasks they invented to keep you occupied.  Keep watch and listen to the radio were your biggest assignments; just wait here was another common one, when they were too lazy to call it one of the other two.

Tess left a little while later, and Joel laid down on the sofa.  You broke away from your thoughts and tried to make yourself useful— you got up to rinse the dishes, humming a random tune to yourself as you worked.  You were already back inside your head, wondering if you should tell Joel it was a song you’d heard on his radio and had stuck in your head ever since.  Probably not worth it; it usually didn’t go well when you tried to talk about things like that.  Joel and Tess talked about before a lot— well, it wasn't that often, because it wasn't very productive to talk about it.  But they talked about it occasionally and you never had anything to say.  Once, you tried to weigh in: they were reminiscing on concerts before the outbreak, bands and artists they remembered, and you chirped about how "I read about that in a book once!"

They both glared at you, and you didn't say anything else.  But you didn’t take it too personally, they just didn’t want to feel old— but you didn’t think either of them were old!  These days, old wasn’t a matter of years, it was really just about usefulness— like poor Mrs. Davis, she was old, she couldn’t do much for herself anymore— and they were both… actually, they were both significantly more useful than you.  That made you sad.  But at least Joel had helped you get better with guns— not that he ever let you carry one. 

“I didn’t ask you to do that,” Joel broke the silence as you washed his favorite mug.

“I know,” you said back, voice light and chipper.  “You don’t have to.”

You felt his eyes linger on you for a moment after that, but he didn’t say anything else.

~

Though they had decided already that you weren’t joining them on the run, you ended up there— mostly by happenstance— when Joel and Tess met with the buyer who wanted half of what they managed to bring back.  Not many people in the QZ could afford that kind of contraband, so it made sense that it was one of the FEDRA soldier’s bankrolling this.  They were by no means rich, but they had a lot of pull and could provide all sorts of ration cards and promises to look the other way if future issues arose.  He couldn’t guarantee safe movement out and back in through the boundaries of the city, but he at least promised to look the other way in any future run-ins with the law.

“So that’s it: you’ll leave at eleven, you’re back by four, and you bring me my share the next day during my break?” the soldier confirmed.

“Yep,” Tess agreed.  “Quick and painless.  Hopefully.”

You didn’t expect the man’s eyes to land on you, but you didn’t particularly care for it.  "Is your little lap dog coming, too?" he smirked, glancing at Joel after he was finished raking his stare over you.

Your face got hot instantly, with shame and confusion.  "I— I'm not in his lap," you denied, "that's not— we don't—"

“No,” Joel interrupted firmly, “she’s not coming.”

There was an awkward silence, the place where he might’ve said and she’s not my lap dog, if he cared much about the accusation.  Tess seemed to be hanging onto that silence nearly as tightly as you were.

“Whatever,” the soldier finally brought everyone’s attention back to the conversation, “just meet me here tomorrow at half past one, and we’ll see what you’ve got.”

You were still thinking about that conversation that night— while you were keeping watch, like Joel had asked you to.  It was really boring; you spent most of the time on the couch, reading a book you’d bought off someone for a few rations.  After a while, your curiosity got the better of you, and you started snooping around Joel’s apartment.  There wasn’t much to look at… he didn’t own much, just a few shirts— actually, you thought those jeans he always wore might be his only pair…

Your search led you to his bed.  Even with no one here to see you do it, you were a little embarrassed to lean in and take a whiff of his pillow— but it was totally worth it.  It smelled just like him, that warm piney kind of scent he had; in times like this, not many people could afford to smell nice, but Joel could.  Not to say that he was the type to splurge on all the nicest stuff, you were pretty sure he didn’t even own cologne, but he owned shampoo and deodorant, so that put him in the 80th percentile for hygiene in the Boston QZ.

But it wasn’t just those products you smelled on his sheets— there was something quintessentially Joel to it all, something impossible to define but incredibly addictive.  It was instinctual, the way you got in his bed and curled up in those sheets, burying yourself in the comfort of him.  It was so easy to imagine how he might hold you, now that you were here— all you were missing was his strength, his weight, slow and steady breaths behind you as he drifted to sleep…

You woke up when you heard the door shut.  Startled into sitting up, you were hoping you’d have time to get out of his bed before he saw you— but he was already standing there, staring at you.  He was just a shape in the dark, so you couldn’t see his face, but you heard the exasperated sigh.

“I thought I told you to sleep on the couch,” he said.

“R-right, sorry,” you coughed, recalling last time this happened with a pained wince.

“Better yet, I thought I told you to keep watch!”

“You know you just say that,” you mumbled, “so you can keep me away from the real work.”

He didn’t say anything, probably because he knew you were right— but even if he’d wanted to, he couldn’t, because Tess walked in a second later.  “Can’t believe he tried to stiff us,” she was saying as she walked in, half-laughing in frustration.  “Well, yeah I can,” she added a second later.

Her attitude changed when she saw you in the bed.  “I— I’ll go back to my—” you started, but you ended up just getting up and leaving in a hurry before you could really finish your thought.

Wiping a small tear from under your eye quickly, you walked out of Joel’s apartment and started for your own bunk across the city— even though it was more likely than not that somebody would hassle you for walking around during curfew.

Yes, if you had a little more self-respect, you would just stop hanging around those two and find some other work to do, but Joel had done something for you that you could never repay and never forget.  He didn’t have to love you the way you loved him— and you’d been sure for a while that he never would— but couldn’t he at least be a little nicer?  You wouldn’t feel right being anywhere but at his side, no matter how much he made it seem like he never wanted you there at all.

~

Honestly, you did consider not going back the next morning— but you figured they might actually need you for the next part.  Okay, not need, but they could at least use you for something: after smuggling anything in, you need a fence, someone to pawn this stuff off.  Joel and Tess did a decent job of keeping a low profile, but it was even easier to do so when they had someone like you moving contraband around Boston’s population.

So, after a few hours of sleep on that radically uncomfortable cot, you decided to head back to Joel’s place.  The sun was just above the horizon by this time, but only the people working early shifts for their rations were up now; you liked the city best when it was quiet like this, but then again, you liked almost everything better quiet.

Usually, Joel’s apartment was the same way.  But when you walked in, the energy was completely different than you were used to.  Where you’d normally find Tess counting up the score while Joel sipped on coffee (or liquor, depending most on the hour), instead you walked in on what was clearly a lover’s quarrel.

The thing was, this was not your typical argument— they were doing it Joel and Tess style, which is to say, as repressed as possible.  In fact, they weren’t even talking when you walked in, but just the way they were standing was indicative of the discomfort they were clearly trying not to acknowledge.

Tess was at the window, arms crossed, looking at the view; and you knew that was a bad sign, because there was no view to be had, the QZ was an eyesore and she complained about it all the time.  Joel was sitting at the table, facing the other way, his hand squeezing his own fist instead of the handle of his mug— it didn’t look injured, but his face still had a hint of pain on it.

“I’m sorry—” you mumbled, not sure what you were apologizing for yet, but Tess interrupted you.

“I’ll go,” she decided, walking over to the table.

“Okay,” Joel agreed, not looking at her.

Well, you were no relationship expert, and you didn’t even know what they were arguing about… but you knew that was pretty cold.  “So that’s all you’re gonna say to me?” Tess prompted him, her tone tight and her eyes red.

You kept your head low, as if that would hide the fact that you could clearly see and hear all this.  

“Yeah,” Joel decided, not as aloof as usual; it reminded you of how he usually spoke to you, that frustration, but it was definitely different.  More… exhausted.  “Yeah, it is.”

Tess put her weight predominantly on one leg, her hips shifting, as she let out a scoffing sort of breath.  For a moment, she looked at you; you looked back at her shyly from beneath your brows before looking away.  Why would she look at me right now?

Shaking her head, she left, mumbling to herself but you couldn’t make it out.  The door slammed behind her.  Joel sighed next.

“Everything okay?” you asked sheepishly, twisting your boot on the floor to watch the shapes it made in the thin layer of dust.

“Clearly,” he insisted, and the sarcasm was obvious though his voice was neutral.  You could tell he didn’t want you to prod more— anyone who knew Joel for two minutes would know that— but you still chewed your lip as you wondered what you should do.

Your attention turned to the stacks of contraband on the table; most of it was perfectly legal material to own, just not legal to acquire from outside the city’s perimeter.  “Looks like a good haul this time,” you noticed, hoping a change of subject would soothe him a little.  Maybe it did, but he didn’t show it.  He just kept squeezing his fist, and you gently sat down across from him at the table— and you started doing what you figured you should, going through what they’d brought back and starting to figure how much you could get for it.

For a while, he entertained that conversation, though with as short of responses as possible.  Not even a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’, just hums and grunts that got the point across.  You could tell he was thinking, but you could also tell he didn’t want to be— that he’d rather forget about all that.  For once, he was struggling to do that.

It scared you to imagine doing something he so obviously didn’t want you to do, but you knew you couldn’t ignore it forever.  “What made her so upset?” you asked softly, finally.

He paused for so long that you thought he was just ignoring your question, but he did eventually say something.  “She told me something I wasn’t ready to hear,” he answered, “and… and I guess I said the wrong thing.”

“What did you say?”

“Actually, I didn’t say anything,” he admitted with a thin laugh.  “But, I said nothing in the wrong way.”

"... Do you think she'll come back?" you pressed, and his sigh was answer enough.

You had to wonder if he'd make you a real partner in all this now.  Probably not, right?  He thought so little of you before, that wouldn't change just because Tess was out.

“I’m sorry,” you decided.

“It’s not your fault,” he promised.  “It was me.”

You didn’t press on that, already thankful and pleasantly surprised by how much he’d shared.  He stood up a moment later, leaving the table and moving to the kitchenette so he could make some coffee; oddly, that comforted you.  Like things were going to go forward now, like life could be normal again and he would still drink his coffee.

For a while, it was quiet— just how you liked it, and how you figured he liked it, too.  He was humming a song at one point but you didn’t think he realized he was doing it.

It was so quiet, in fact, that when you went to lay on the sofa later, you ended up accidentally dozing off.  You couldn’t say how long you were asleep— you were pretty underslept, but it didn’t feel like more than an hour— just that you were awoken to the sound of movement in the kitchen area.

Sitting up, you tilted your head when you saw Joel had begun packing up the contraband haul— well, half of it.  “What are you—?” you began to ask, but then you saw the time, and you remembered; but he answered you anyways.

“Our buyer’s on his break now,” Joel announced as he stuffed a pack of bandages into his bag.  “I said I would meet him to show him what we got.”

“I can go with you!” you announced.  “You know, if Tess isn’t—”

“It’s fine,” he insisted, “I can do it myself.”

“Joel, please,” you pressed, “I promise I’ll do whatever you need me to, I just wanna help—”

“I need you to stay here,” he frowned.

Some things never change, huh?  “Why don’t you just let me go?  Let me help you?” you whimpered, lip shaking as you started to cry.  You hated yourself for it, but you knew you couldn’t stop it.

There was a pause before he responded.  “I don’t like the way he looks at you,” Joel explained, but you doubted that was the real reason he didn’t want you to come.  “It only takes one of us, you’re better off here.”

“Tess was gonna go!” you reminded him, getting more upset.  "I know I'm not…" you trailed off as you tried not to cry too much or too loudly.  "I can't do what she can— I'm not strong…"

He sighed as he knelt down in front of you, resting his hand on your knee.  You peeked out from behind your fingers, but looked down again.

"I'm not— I'm not smart, either," you whimpered.  "I don't know anything, about before, about now—"

"That's not true," he mumbled, but you weren't finished yet.

"Nobody knows why you even keep me around, I sure don't," you shrugged, dropping your hands defeatedly, hot tears running faster down your face and dripping onto your pants; his hand reached up and wiped your cheeks with a gentleness you never knew he had.  “M’not… I’m not tough, like you guys…”

"You know what you are, little girl?" he replied quietly.  "You're good.  You're sweet.  Me an' Tess, we need someone like you to keep us from bein' sad old assholes all the time…"

He sighed, and you thought was done talking, until he spoke again, softer.

"I need someone like you."

Your heart swelled, and light filled your chest, until you had just enough confidence to finally blurt out what you'd been holding in for months: "Joel, you should know that I always—"

"Shh," he soothed, nodding.  "I know."

Your face got hot instantly again, and your heart sank.  "I think everybody knows," you mumbled awkwardly, giving him a half-smile through the drying tears.  "But I thought— it's just that you never—"

“I couldn’t,” he insisted.  “You understand that?  I couldn’t, not with you—”

“Why not?” you snapped.  “Why can’t you?”

“If you don’t know why, you’re more hopeless than I thought,” he frowned.

“I know— I know I’m… a lot younger than you…” you mumbled, almost not wanting to say it in case he actually hadn’t noticed that.  “I know you think I’m not very mature and stuff… but that shouldn’t matter when you really love someone—”

“Woah, hey,” he coughed, “love?  Sweetheart, you’ve got a crush—”

“No!  Don’t tell me how I feel,” you snapped, surprising both of you with your sudden ability to stand up to him.  “You can tell me what to do but not what to feel.”

“Okay,” he softened up, “fine.  That’s fair.  But it’ll pass—”

"I've never loved anybody before," you whimpered, "and I'm never gonna love anybody like I love you.  I know that!  I know you think I'm just a stupid kid who doesn't understand love, but I know that I really love you!  Okay?  So just… just stop talking!  Doesn’t need to take this long for you to reject me, geez…”

There was a pregnant pause, you were too caught up in your own frustration to really notice it: the way he looked to the side, chewing on the inside of his cheek for a moment.  You weren’t expecting him to say anything after that, so it nearly startled you when he spoke.  “It was last night, after you left,” he explained.  “I— I thought about telling you to come back, figured you’d be safer on the couch than walking back across the city at that time…”

Wrapping your arms around your chest, you smiled a little imagining that, but you knew you couldn’t have taken him up on that offer: it would’ve killed you, trying to sleep on that sofa while Joel and Tess shared the bed.

“She told me not to,” Joel continued.  “That’s… that’s how it started, I guess…”

“That girl’s so obsessed with you,” Tess laughed lightly, toying with Joel’s lapel.  “It’s cute, really.  I mean, it’s sad— but it’s cute.”

“Hm,” Joel said first, not really listening— it took him a second to properly react.  “Why is it sad?” he asked when her words processed completely.

“‘Cause she thinks she might actually have a chance,” Tess explained.

That was it, what he did wrong; he sees it now, in retrospect, but at the time he figured saying nothing was his safest bet.  Apparently, he didn’t have to say anything.

“Shit,” Tess said suddenly, moving instantly from shock to anger.  “Are you fucking serious?”

“What?” Joel spat.

“You know fucking what,” she returned sharply.  “That look— you looked away.”

“Okay?  So?” Joel tried to defend himself, but he knew that she knew now— believe it or not, he really wasn’t much of a liar.  Especially with her.

“She’s a goddamn fetus, Joel,” Tess reminded him.  “She hasn’t seen a hundredth of the shit we’ve seen, she hasn’t lost anyone—”

“Lost her parents,” Joel corrected.

“Well, we all lose our parents,” Tess rolled her eyes, “that’s part of life.”

Not the way she lost them, Joel wanted to add, but he was going back to his original plan of saying nothing.

“She’s not like us,” Tess insisted.

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” Joel decided.

That was the point of no return; because Tess had never thought of you as competition, she barely even thought of you at all, but if innocence was something he wanted… then the competition was already over before it even started.  The silence was heavy, more sad than angry, and Joel knew he really fucked up because he’d never really seen Tess speechless before.  Is it bad that he didn’t regret it, though?  Maybe he could’ve handled things better, but telling her the truth couldn’t be wrong.  It’s not like he’d been hiding it, really— he never even acknowledged it himself, not often.

“I can’t believe you,” she shook her head, and shame twisted in his gut.  “Part of me always— not always, I guess, but part of me wondered.  Sometimes the way you looked at her…”

As she trailed off, Joel looked down, too afraid for her to look in his eyes now.

“You’d do anything to keep her safe,” she said instead of finishing that last thought.  “I told myself you didn’t look at me like that because you knew I could protect myself.”

“I do,” he promised.

“So what do you want?” she asked point-blank.  “Something you can protect, or something you don’t have to?”

“And what did you say?” you asked hurriedly.

“I told her what I wanted,” was all he replied, and your heart skipped.  “And that’s… that’s why she left.”

Joel nodded slightly, looking away.  But you reached out and touched his face, turning it back towards you.  Impulsively, you leaned forward and kissed him; it took all the courage you had, and a hand on his shoulder for balance, but you felt him kiss you back after a moment.  It was gentle, for how sudden it was, and you sighed as his hand moved higher up your leg.  

You were still crying, because of course you were, but he didn’t mind as much as you’d worried: he only wiped your tears away, holding onto your face, standing up and pulling you with him.

“I love you,” you whispered as he embraced you, wanting to say it a thousand times now that it wasn’t the worst-kept secret in Boston.  “I love you, Joel—”

“I know,” he promised, whispering back into the kiss which got deeper with each passing moment.  “I know, darlin’.”

That was enough for you— that was plenty: the way he kissed you, and held you, calling you darlin’ in that rough-yet-gentle voice… you were weak already, melting into his touch, ready to give him anything.

In fact, he had to put a hand on your shoulder and gently push you away to get you to calm down, and your face heated up as you realized how eager you’d been.  “Don’t need to get so worked up, m’gonna take care of you now, okay?”

“You always take care of me,” you noticed.

“A different way,” he explained.

Just the way those brown eyes darkened, just the way he said that made your thighs clench against each other.  “Y-you’ll miss the meeting with the buyer,” you realized.

“Fuck,” Joel grumbled, and you smiled a bit.  “Waited this long and now I’ve gotta fuckin’ leave you again.”

Your hand rested on his chest, the soft flannel of his shirt transmitting some of the warmth of his body, and you looked up with him with wide, wet eyes.

“I know you hate waitin’ here, but… I always liked it,” he admitted, his voice softer yet deeper.  “I always liked knowing you were here, waiting for me…”

Your heart swelled.  “Y-yeah— I didn’t mind waiting for you so much,” you admitted in return, “just didn’t want you to think that’s all I was good for.”

He kissed your temple, making your chest flood with warmth.  “I know,” he promised.  “You’ll be here when I get back, won’tcha?  Can’t disappear on me now.”

“I won’t, I’ll be here,” you assured, turning your face to peck his cheek in return.  It seemed to surprise him, like he hadn’t had tenderness of that sort in a long time.

~

Funny how you’d waited for him all night before, but that half hour felt longer than all of them combined.  You were quite sure you knew what he meant before— about how he would take care of you in a different way— and it put you on edge all afternoon.

You couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d kissed you, about his hands pulling you closer.  Or his eyes: if he’d ever looked at you like that before, you hadn’t noticed (which was probably what he intended).  

For how much time you spent wondering what you would do, what you would say, when he returned, you ended up not doing much of either: he was on you the moment he stepped in the door, though that was sort of what you’d been betting on when you decided to strip down to just your underwear and wait for him like that.  Not that you minded the idea of him, you know, tearing your clothes off like one of those romance novels— you just didn’t like the idea of having to wait any longer than you already had and this shirt had way too many buttons.

He did take a moment to stare you down when he came back, to appreciate your nakedness, and despite imagining showing yourself to him many times before, you felt a little self-conscious with his eyes just piercing through you like that: you didn’t cover yourself, ignoring a slight instinct to do so, but you did wrap your arms over your stomach and cross your legs as you sat on his bed.

Waiting for him to say something— or, possibly, waiting for yourself to find some courage to speak— you were a little taken aback when he grabbed you and kissed you.  And you realized, as his lips moved with yours even harder, deeper, needier than before, that there was nothing else to say.

He climbed on top of you on that bed, laid you down on it gently, as his weight pressed you down into the mattress.  You could've sworn you heard him growl when he rocked his hips against yours, a firm bulge in his jeans pressing right up to where heat had gathered between your legs.

Fingers weaving in his hair, you hummed as you did all you could to keep him close, as if he might just disappear if you didn’t hold him near to you.  But he didn’t seem like much of a flight risk, considering his tight grip on you— so tight it could leave marks, which you hoped it would.  You needed more than just memories of this.

“Tell me this is what you want,” he demanded, his voice breathless yet somehow not weak at all.  “Need to know you want this.”

“Fuck, Joel, f’course,” you promised— wasn’t it obvious?  It probably was.  But you could understand if he was still fighting back some guilt; you just wanted to do everything you could to help him forget about that.  “So bad,” you continued, “for so long…”

“Since I saved you?” he assumed, his teeth grazing your lip like a threat to bite down harder— a threat that made you throb from the inside out.

“Before,” you admitted, smiling sheepishly.  

“Didn’t even know me before,” he noticed, raising an eyebrow.

“Saw you around sometimes—” god, am I blushing as hard as it feels like I am? — “thought maybe you could… you know…”

Protect me.  Hold me.  Take care of me.  And fuck me like the world is ending even though it already did.

He smirked at you proudly, leaning in to kiss your neck this time, following some invisible trail that made you even more sensitive to the touch of his lips; after he kissed right under your ear, he whispered to you.

“Then just go ahead and take what you want, darlin’.”

After a shiver ran over you, so strong you thought it might never end, your hands shot down between you so you could get to work on his belt and fly; you felt his smile against your skin, then his teeth a moment later, as his hand rubbed the curve of your waist gently.

Both of you gasped when your fingers wrapped gently around his cock, for different reasons.  The skin was so smooth, it was hard to believe something this soft and silky was part of Joel— and it was hot, or maybe your fingers were just cold, but you hoped that didn't bother him.

He was already starting to move his hips just a bit, rocking into your touch, and you hummed when he suddenly grabbed your hand to force it to press firmer against himself.  "You thought about touchin' me like this before?" he asked in a voice that was breathy and low— you loved hearing the pleasure in his voice.

"Y-yeah," you admitted shyly; when he let your hand go, your touch wandered, your hands sliding up under the bottom of his shirt so you could feel the skin there— the firm muscle, the thin scars, the graying hairs that formed a trail down his stomach…

Grabbing your wrists, he pinned them down above your head, and you let out a joyful whine.  "Keep those there," he ordered, and you nodded as you watched him intently.

His hands traced down your body, making shivers run all over your skin; how could a man with so much strength touch you so delicately?

He purred as his fingers ran down to your panties, toying with the edge of the fabric before carefully pulling them down your legs.  You tried not to wiggle too much, but your hips were desperate for some friction, for some attention from him— they didn't have to wait long, though.  He groaned at the sight as he parted your legs, grabbing himself to rub his fat head through your folds.  "Fuck," he mumbled, your channel clenching on nothing as you saw how far apart his tip forced your swollen lips, "so wet for me already, bet I'll slide right in…"

Your back arched with a moan just imagining that, and he pushed your stomach down flat with his free hand so you wouldn't angle too far away from him, laying his body atop yours.  Though you tried to stay still, you couldn’t stop shaking as he lined himself up; it felt surreal, it felt hyperreal— his skin against yours was unlike anything you could’ve imagined.

You’d sort of wondered if he’d say something before he put it in, maybe a quick you ready? or even here it comes which would’ve been stupid but an appreciated warning nonetheless.  Instead, he just looked at your face carefully, and pushed inside.  It was sudden, sharp; your whole body tensed up and you sucked in a breath before biting your lip.

He only made it halfway in, struggling against how tight you were.  You were doing everything you could not to give away your pain, but he must've seen it in your expression.

"What's wrong?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.  "I'm hurting you…"

"No— Joel, please don't stop—"

You wrapped your legs around his hips to try to keep him inside, but he pulled out most of the way and looked down— and you winced when he saw the blood.  "Baby, you… are you— is this your—?  Fuck, why didn't you say something?"

"You wouldn't have done it with me if you knew it was my first time," you explained with a whimper.

"No, baby— I just would've taken my time with you, s'all," he sighed, "would've helped you— sweetie, it didn't need to hurt like that…"

Clutching tighter at his shirt, you pulled him down into a needy kiss. "Hurt me more, Joel," you pleaded into it with a breathy whisper, "do whatever you want to me.  I'm yours— that's all I want, just to be yours."

He kissed you back, slow but passionate; but, much to your dismay, he pulled out and sat up.

"No, Joel, I'm sorry," you whined, "I'm sorry— I didn't mean to lie, I'm so sorry, I promise I can be good!  M'gonna be really good for you!"

But he just shook his head, and you bit your quivering lip as tears ran down your temples.  He smiled, just a little.  "Such a crybaby," he scolded you softly.  "What am I gonna do with you, little girl?  You can't even keep yourself together."

He leaned down again, but he slid his knees down on the bed so he could position his face between your legs.  He kissed your inner thigh first, and you jumped because it tickled.

Then he held your hips, running his thumbs over your skin soothingly, and you tried not to squirm too much as he looked up at you with those dark eyes— much darker than before.  “You want me to taste you?” he asked, like it was your idea or something.

“Uh, yeah,” you mumbled sheepishly, and he actually laughed for a moment.  

“Yeah?” he repeated.  “Could you be a little more specific?”

Oh— he wants me to beg.  “Um— please?  Taste me, Joel…”

He smiled, but not like a haha funny smile or an oh that’s nice smile— a really dirty kind of smile, even though his teeth were actually in better condition than most out here.  “Okay, baby,” he agreed.

He was subtle about it at first, just giving gentle kisses all around; you felt… exposed, even more than you had with his face between your legs before.

“Is that alright?” he asked, his voice rougher than the last time you heard it.

“Y-yeah,” you choked, clearing your throat.  “Don’t… don’t stop, please…”

When he got back to it, he was much more aggressive— long, slow licks between your lips, sloppy kisses with his eyes shut tight; and you whined as you held on tighter to the sheets.  You didn’t realize how hard you were shaking until his grip on your thighs was bruisingly tight.  And as he held you down, he just dug in deeper: every time you thought he’d stop escalating the intensity of it all, he just did it more— he just did everything more— until you couldn’t control your moans and gasps anymore.

His tongue was the fucking devil; he slid it inside you and your eyes rolled back.  He sucked greedily on your clit until your hips bucked uncontrollably, moaning against your skin just enough that you could hear it over your own shameless cries.

"Joel, fuck, how are you—?  Oh god—"

"Mm?" he encouraged you to finish your thought without breaking away from you.

"How does that feel so good?" you sobbed.  "Oh my god— please don't stop, never stop, oh fuck!"

All he was doing was flicking his tongue over your bud, such a small interaction with a tiny little organ, and your whole body was shaking.  Reaching down and grabbing his hair, you didn't mean to tug on it so hard but you also didn't expect him to moan deeply when you did.  

His mouth moved a little higher, focusing on the bud you were sure had never been this swollen or this sensitive.  Doing so freed your opening, and one of his thick fingers prodded at it.  "Please," you panted, wanting any part of him to be inside you again.

He pushed it in, the roughness of his skin creating the perfect friction on your delicate walls.  You were waiting to feel his knuckle against you, but instead he only put it in maybe halfway, not very far at all.  It didn’t make much sense to you, until he started to rub one place just inside and a gasp instantly inflated your chest.

“Oh—” you choked, and he was licking harder on your clit at the same time that he added a second finger; you’d never felt anything like it before.  “Joel!” you squealed, hating how girlish it sounded but helpless to the control he had over your body with just two fingers and his tongue.

His rhythm wasn’t all that fast but it was relentless, the exact tempo you needed for that pleasure to build and build, toes curling and vision getting all spotty— you tried to look down at him sometimes, but your head wanted so badly to tilt back and let everything go black.

“I— oh, fuck— I’m gonna— fuck, Joel!” you sobbed, grabbing on tighter to his hair; you took one glimpse at it, and when you saw the scattered silver hairs peeking out from between your fingers, it just made you even more overwhelmed.

He hummed and looked up at you, encouraging you— his fingers pumped faster and faster suddenly, and when it hit, you felt like your whole body was going numb.  It started where he was touching you, but then a moment later it was in your head, then it was just running all over and you were too weak to do anything but give into it.

Suddenly it became too much, and the hand that had been holding him down by his hair was suddenly pushing him away; you blinked away the spots in your vision to catch a glimpse of him with that beard soaked in you, but his fingers hadn’t stopped yet.  “Oh… ohhh my god…” you whined, breathing harder than you could ever remember breathing before, your head getting all dizzy and cloudy as he smirked up at you and continued fucking you with his hand.

Your hole was pulsing, flexing over and over, waves of slick leaking out until you could feel the puddle spreading under you.  Your cheeks burned with humiliation, even though he kept praising you as his fingers milked everything from your swollen spot.  "Good girl, good girl," he said over and over, "fuck, good job, soak the sheets, baby— soak my fingers, keep going…"

"Joel," you sobbed, desperate for some relief from the overwhelming sensation.  He didn't really stop, just slowed down a lot, but he kept twisting his fingers and rubbing that one place until your quivering body collapsed completely onto his mattress.  And then he went on for just a little bit longer after that.

Then he stopped.  When you thought you might fucking pass out.

He climbed up your body and brought his two soaked fingers to your slack lips.  

"You want a taste, too, baby?" he purred.

You dutifully opened your mouth and did your best to clean his fingers off, sucking and licking as he hummed a bit; his eyes got a little darker as he felt your tongue run all over his rough fingers.

"What do you think?" he prompted when he pulled his fingers away, and you swallowed as you made a little face.

"I dunno if I like it," you admitted nervously.  "Kinda sour."

"Really?  I think your pussy's fuckin' delicious."

Your face flushed, but you didn't say anything else because he was reaching down to hold his cock again— and your heart started racing.

"Ready to do this the right way?" he prompted, and you nodded eagerly.  "S'gonna feel so much better, now you're all ready for me.  Ready for something this big inside ya— but it might still sting at first, okay?  Just hold onto me tight."

That you did, tighter than you thought you could— apparently you were stronger than you realized, especially considering that orgasm nearly took you out a minute ago.  But you had to hold on that tight as he began to push that fat head inside you, stretching you so wide before he'd even gotten the ridge of it past your opening.  It didn't sting like before, or at least not as much, but it was still completely overwhelming.  You forgot to breathe until he was halfway in: you gasped out his name, reminding yourself he was inside you and above you and everywhere, everything.

"See how much— fuck— how much easier it is now?" he grunted, sliding into you slowly until his hips met yours.  "See how you're takin' all'a me?  God damn, still tight as hell, though."

You were delirious already, he hadn't even moved yet.  You didn't think it could get much better than his mouth on you, than coming because of him, but this?  This perfect stretch, this addictive friction, knowing he was completely inside you and that he liked how you felt?  This was ecstasy, bliss.  And he hadn't even fucking moved yet.

"Gonna have a hard time being gentle with you now," he admitted with a growl beside your ear.  "You've got one of those perfect little pussies that just needs to be fucked hard— suckin' me in, just beggin' for it rough and fast."

"Joel," you whined, "fuck me however you want, please… I can take it, I swear, I want you so bad…"

Still, when he moved, it was slow and patient.  Too goddamn slow.

"Fuck," you sobbed, back arching up off the bed as he carefully savored every detail of you.  "Fuck, Joel, I can't— I can't believe you're— I can't believe it's you.  I wanted you so much I couldn't fucking breathe."

He smiled at you, and leaned in to kiss your neck; you let out what could only be described as a joyful whimper.  “Wanted you too,” he finally admitted.  “Tried not to, you’re so young… jus’ couldn’t help it after a while.”

"Faster," you whined, "please, fuck, please please—"

"You are so goddamn spoiled, you know that?" Joel grunted— but then he did it, he fucked you even faster than you'd imagined.  His thrusts were still deep and long, but they came at you quicker than you could process and you nearly screamed.  

You were even more sensitive after he’d made you come the first time; it was just overwhelming, the feeling of him, and you felt like your mind had left your body— like your mind had left you entirely.

“Y’feel fuckin’ perfect, darlin’,” he praised lowly, kissing your neck with all the gentleness and patience his thrusts lacked.  “So good for me.”

Maybe it was pathetic, but being good for him felt fucking amazing— not just physically, obviously.  It felt like having a purpose; you’d never really felt that before.

You lost track of time; honestly, you lost track of everything.  Everything that wasn’t this had fallen away, and it was just you holding on for dear life as Joel wrecked you all over again with every motion.  "Hear that?  How wet you are for me?" he groaned, and yes, there was a squishy-wet sound that filled the room with each thrust.  You tried to answer him, say something witty about how he made you that wet so many times, but only moans came when you opened your mouth.  "I asked you a question," he reminded you.  "Can you fuckin' hear it?"

Whimpering, you could only bite your lip and nod.

"Oh," he smiled, "I see— you get stupid with cock in you, huh?  Get fucked right and that silly brain just turns off?"

You nodded again— wasn’t much else for you to do.

"Just gonna be a dumb whore for me now?" he asked.  "Just kidding, I know you already were."

“Fuck— Joel—” you choked.

"No no, it's okay— it's good,” he soothed you, kissing a tear from your temple that you hadn’t even realized was there.  “You don't need to think.  I don't need you to think.  You can just be my fucktoy, okay?  You can just be my slut.  Say it."

"I-I'm your slut, Joel…"

He hummed appreciatively; your moan caught in your throat, and you tried to hide your face in his shoulder— you couldn’t believe he was still dressed, for all you knew he still had his boots on, and meanwhile you were stripped of everything.  Not just your clothes: you were stripped of all pretense (didn’t need it) and dignity (didn’t want it).  You’d thought of yourself as his for quite some time now, but now that he’d really made you his, it was more than you could’ve imagined.

When you came with him inside you, it wasn’t like how it was before— definitely similar, obviously the same thing at the core of it, but very different.  Before it was so… sudden, like a firework going off and then glittering into darkness (at least, that was how you understood fireworks to be, you’d only ever had them explained to you).  This was more like a deep pressure that just built and built and built, and then at some point you’d crossed that threshold and you were there but it didn’t go away, it just stayed at the peak while he kept moving inside you.

He grunted as your walls beared down on him, watching the tears of ecstasy stream down your face.  “Tryin’ to milk my cock, huh?” he accused with a snarl to his tone.  “S’that what you want?”

You weren’t really paying attention, you couldn’t while he was fucking you like that.  Digging your fingers into his shoulders through the flannel shirt, you just whimpered and nodded.

“S’workin’, baby,” he smiled, “little pussy’s got me so tight— is it a little too much, honey?  You’re cryin’...”

“I— I always cry,” you sniffled.

“M’not gonna make you take too much more,” he promised, “doin’ so good honey— gonna let you rest soon—”

“No, d-don’t stop,” you begged, and he laughed a little.

“I’m close,” he explained, and even though that should’ve been obvious, it made you feel better.  “Normally takes me a little longer, but… never had a pussy like this.”

That was probably just flattery, but you were happy to believe it.  Happy enough to just lay back and let that pleasure wash over you, but of course, he expected more of you than that.

"Tell me where I can come," he ordered.  

"Fuck, Joel— anywhere you want, anywhere," you pleaded, struggling to keep your train of thought but desperate to appease him as best you could.

"Inside you?" he pressed.

"Yeah, fuck, anywhere," you insisted.

"I bet that's what you want— you want it inside.  You want this cunt full and dripping."

“Fuck— yeah,” you agreed, “s’what I want— please, please—”

“Shh, don’t need to beg,” he assured sweetly, kissing your neck again— burying his face in the crook of your shoulder, until his panting breaths echoed on your skin.  “Don’t need to beg, darlin’, gonna fill you nice and deep—”

“Please,” you said again, ignoring his assurances.

“Just like you need it—”

“Please, Joel— love you so much,” you sobbed, your thighs starting to go a little numb where his jeans were rubbing against them and your clit getting sore from the way he stayed deep inside and grinded himself against you.

“I know,” he promised again, “jus’ say it one more time.”

“I love you, Joel,” you cried, and it was over somewhat suddenly: he stayed still, and you could feel his grip on you tighten, and you heard that sound that was like a groan and a sigh at the same time.  You’d hoped you’d be able to really feel it inside you, the warmth of his come, but everything was so hot that it was all the same— what you did feel was full, even more than you had just from his cock in you, and it was enough to make you clutch at his shoulders again despite having almost no energy left in you.

Though he stayed inside for a little while after, he did eventually have to pull out; you were too exhausted to even think about trying to close your legs when he stared down at you— at his come leaking slowly from your hole.

You knew there would need to be a conversation soon about what this all meant— what should happen now with the business, with your relationship, even just what should happen tomorrow morning since you’d both given in to instinct rather than take the safer route and have Joel pull out…

But that would have to wait; you still couldn’t think straight, you couldn’t think about anything but him in fact.

Thankfully, Joel was just fine with the silence.  He just held you, let you wander between sleep and wakefulness, and wiped that last stray tear away from your face.

“I’m sorry I keep crying,” you offered quietly, breaking a long silence.

“I don’t mind,” he promised.

[twistedshipper]

Kristya, I have no words, after listening to the full song, I'm struck by how perfectly stunning this edit is for SL. Thank you so much ~ 🥺💕

«and weary, she laid her head upon the pillow not to rest nor to dream but to wait out this aching interim of her life as it passed her by, and by, like the veil of clouds drifting past the gilded sun in all its new day glory»

[When the seer looks away by Kayak] and [Solitary Love by @twistedshipper ]

[musings-of-a-rose]

Hi, just wanted to say that I love your work! Especially with Benny and Frankie so much that I have an idea for Benny! Female reader (not picky about the name) meets Benny at a bar days after she catches her now ex-boyfriend cheating on her and they hook up at his place, but she leaves before he wakes up. She later finds out she's pregnant but doesn't tell anyone who the father is. Months later while still pregnant, her friends convince her to come with them to see a MMA fight and low and behold Benny is there fighting. He doesn't see her at first, but when the fight ends (which he wins) he sees her and she leaves abruptly while hiding her stomach since she's wearing baggy clothing. However, Benny manages to catch up to her, where she reveals the news to him. They then talk some more at her place where he reveals to her that she's been on his mind ever since that night and begins the start of something new.

One Night Can Change Everything

Pairing: Benny Miller x f!reader 

Word Count: 6400+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: Rea is a general nickname for a “reader” character that @mermaidxatxheart came up with and I think that’s genius! This is not beta’d.

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❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Benny Miller Masterlist

“Ok, that’s it. I’m making you get out of this bed now,” My best friend Sage declares as she towers over my bed, where I have lived for the past several days. Ever since I caught my boyfriend sleeping with my co-worker. Co-workerS.

Ex-boyfriend now, I suppose. 

I groan, attempting to roll over but Sage grabs my shoulder and flips me back over, digging her fingers lovingly into my skin. “I love you Rea, I do. But you have to get out of this bed. He’s not worth it.”

She’s right. I know she is. But we had been dating for nearly 2 years, mostly. It was on and off, but we had talked about marriage, kids, all of it. I thought he would be my forever but apparently, I was his “for now”. 

Fuck this asshole.

I sit up quickly, nearly colliding with Sage, and yank the covers off me, determination flooding my veins, choking out the hurt. For now, at least. 

“Alright, alright. I’m up.”

Sage points to the bathroom. “First, please take a shower. Then we’re going to Mick’s.” 

I’d almost forgotten about Mick’s, Sage’s favorite bar. Probably because it’s full of rugged, blue-collar men and Sage definitely has a type. Not that I can blame her. 

“Ok, but I’m just going for you. And science.”

Sage snorts. “Sure, Rea. Sure. Don’t forget to shave.”

—--------------

An hour later and I’m walking into Mick’s front door, loud music vibrating through me. It’s busy, but I’ve seen it busier and we manage to snag a couple of stools at the bar. Within 10 minutes, Sage is led to the dance floor by some burly lumberjack, complete with flannel shirt and all. I throw my hand up in the air in a “what about me” motion as she glances behind her, shrugging and gesturing around the room before focusing all of her attention on the flannel clad bear of a man in front of her, who is surprisingly agile. I turn back to the bar, taking my hand off the top of my glass, tossing the last of the liquid down my throat, coughing slightly at the burn. I set my glass down, my finger trailing along the rim, wondering if I should call an Uber or wait for my friend, when a man slides in next to me, flagging down the bartender. 

“5 beers, please.” His voice has a slight drawl to it, his tone warming me all over. 

“Seems a lot for one man.” Where the hell did that courage come from?

The man, clad in a button up light blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up that opens to reveal a camo print shirt, turns his head to me and for what feels like days, I’m rendered speechless. This man is gorgeous - a sloping nose,  sandy blonde hair that flips out from behind his backward hat, some patchy facial hair, and the most intensely blue eyes I’ve ever seen. They glance quickly down my body and back up, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. 

“Ain’t all for me, sweetheart. Got a table full of impatient assholes waiting for a beer.”

I cock my head to the side. “You lose a bet or something?”

The man tips his head back and laughs, his shoulders shaking with it and I feel my body tingle. I could listen to that sound forever. 

“How the hell did you know that?” His smile is wide, all of his attention on me, his eyebrows raised in question.

I shrug. “I’d send the guy who lost a bet to get the first round, at least.”

He chuckles. “Smart girl…I’m Ben. Friends call me Benny.”

I tell him my name. “But my friends call me Rea.”

“I like that. Nice to meet you, Rea.” He sticks his hand out to shake mine, but before I can, 4 beers slide in front of him and he glances down at them, his shoulders dropping ever so slightly. 

Finding courage from somewhere, I lay my hand on his forearm and have to resist squeezing. “You have to go back so soon?”

He smiles again, the skin around his eyes crinkling with it. “Nah, sweetheart. I’ll be right back. Promise me you’ll wait right here?” There go the eyebrows again, pulling together and making him look like a puppy. Fuck I am so screwed.

“I’ll be waiting.”

He hesitates for a brief second before taking my hand and kissing the back of it. “Now that’s something to make a man move fast.” He winks, grabs the four beers, and heads off into the crowd, making his way towards the back of the room. Hate to see him leave, but damn I’m loving watching him go, his 6’3 frame easily visible over the crowd. He drops off the beers somewhere at the back of the room, turning quickly to push his way back through the crowd, his eyes locking on mine and giving me a sly smile. 

“You waited.” He slides back into the barstool next to me as I pull my leg from it, the universal gesture for this is saved.

Fuck his eyes are so blue. “You came back.”

A smile plays at the corner of his lips. “Did you think I wouldn’t?”

I look down for a moment, my mind going back to my ex and all of his cheating, making me feel less than. Benny seems to sense something, his large hand hesitating a moment before he gently squeezes my arm. “You ok?”

I shake my head, my eyes locking back on his blues. “Yeah. I’m great now you’re here.”

Benny is easy to talk to, fun, and flirty. He’s in Delta Force, or was, with his actual brother, one of the men that he’d owed a beer to earlier. We talk about everything and anything, Benny eventually pulling me to the dance floor and whisking me about, sometimes dancing and other times being silly and smiling when I laugh. After several songs, we need a break, managing to snag a couple of stools at the bar, sipping on a couple of drinks. 

“So you live local?” He asks me, taking another swig from his beer.

I nod. “Yeah. I don’t typically come here, but my friend Sage dragged me out of the house.”

“Well remind me to thank her. She here?”

“Actually,” I turn and look out at the crowd for several moments, finally seeing her in the back corner, making out with Flannel Bear Man. I chuckle. “Yeah, she’s a little occupied.”

Benny chuckles, taking another swig of his beer, his free hand hesitating a moment before landing on my bare thigh, just above my knee. “Well I can keep you company.” 

His warm hand against my skin has my brain short-circuiting. I can’t think of what to say so I return his question. “Are you local?”

He nods, his thumb slowly rubbing circles across my skin. “Yeah. But some water main or somethin’ broke in my building. They put us all up in hotels until they fix it. Burst a few pipes.”

“Oh no! Is your stuff ok?” I place my hand over his on my leg, giving it a little squeeze and move it further up my thigh, heat immediately rushing to an area not far from where his hand is. 

He clears his throat. “Uh, y-yeah. Well, I had some water damage but didn’t lose anythin’ big. They just have to put down new floors.”

The music volume suddenly goes up by several volumes, turning the place into a mini club. Benny winces and I can see that it triggers him, the loud sounds and people becoming a little much. I lean in closer to his ear, gently rubbing circles into the back of his hand. 

“It’s too fucking loud! Wanna get out of here?” I pull my head back to look at him, our faces only an inch apart. His eyes flit between mine, briefly pausing on my lips.

“If you’re sure, hell yeah.”

I smile and he returns it before I lean back into his ear. “Let me flag my friend down and let her know. Stay right here so I don’t lose you.”

He turns his head, his nose brushing against my cheek. “I’ll be right here.” Hating that I have to move, I gently place his hand on his thigh and give him a wink before turning, scanning the corner where I had last seen Sage. She’s still there, Flannel Bear Man sucking on her neck. I force my way through the crowd and eventually emerge in front of her. Sage’s gaze takes a moment to settle on me.

“Rea! Where’ve you been?” She yells above the music.

I gesture to where I came from. “At the bar. Waiting for you.”

She gasps as Flannel Bear Man starts to bite her skin. “S-sorry, Rea. I-”

I cut her off, not wanting to intrude any longer. “No worries. I’m getting out of here. With a guy. I’ll get an Uber.”

Sage reaches out and grips my wrist, breaking the suction from Flannel Man who only seems to just realize I’m standing here. 

“A guy? You found someone? Do you need condoms?”

“Sage! I have to go!”

“Wait!” She pulls her clutch from somewhere and digs around in it, quickly sliding a few foiled square packages in my hand. “ Remember, it’s just a rebound. Don’t get attached. Have fun and be safe!”

I can’t help the heat in my cheeks, but I tuck the condoms in my bag. “Thanks. I’ll ping you my location.”

Sage releases my wrist and smiles at me before I turn back to Benny, shoving my way through more bodies on the dance floor. I emerge on the other side and see him still sitting where I left him, hat turned backward and looking so fucking hot. 

This is all so unlike me, but I like Benny. Sage’s words echo through my head “it’s just a rebound. Have some fun.”

I walk up to Benny and he turns his head, standing and giving me a wide smile. “Ready to go, sweetheart?”

I nod and he offers me his hand, which I happily accept, his touch warming me all over as he guides us through the crowd and out the front door, the volume immediately decreasing the moment the door closes behind us. 

“Now I can hear myself think!” Benny chuckles as he pulls my hand to his lips, lightly brushing them against my knuckles, his puppy dog eyes on mine. “Did you drive?

“Hhhm? Oh, uh no. Uber.”

Benny nods. “I have my jeep. I can drive us somewhere? Unless you’d feel safer using Uber?”

I study him for a moment, deciding that I trust him. “I love Jeeps.”

He smiles, his grip on my hand tightening slightly as he directs me to the parking lot, chatting a little too fast about his Jeep, like he’s nervous. He helps me into the passenger side, sliding across the hood to make it to the driver’s side quicker, smiling at my laugh. He starts the Jeep and gets the ac started before turning to me.

“Where to?”

It’s just a rebound. Have fun. “I’d love to see your hotel.”

His eyebrows raise, that same smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah? You don’t have to. I mean, we could just get a burger or somethin’.”

I look down at my hands in my lap. Did I misread the signals? He was definitely coming on to me, right? I wasn’t reading into that? Before I can spiral further, Benny puts his hand over mine. “Hey, look. I like you and think you’re fucking hot as hell and would love to take you to my room to uh, show you the room. But I don’t want to presume or make you feel obligated or anything.”

I would choose a fucking gentlemen for a rebound. Fuck. I close my hand over his and meet his eyes. “Thanks, Benny. I don’t want to push you or presume either.”

He chuckles once, removing his hand to put his Jeep in reverse and then back into drive. “Sweetheart, you can take advantage of me any day.”

That breaks the awkwardness and has us laughing, falling back into conversation easily as Benny navigates through traffic. Gently, I lay his hand on my bare thigh again, wrapping my hand over his. He’s talking about something, I honestly can’t focus because he’s started to move, his fingers tracing slow lines across my skin as his hand moves further up my leg, getting closer to where I desperately want him to be. We hit a red light and the Jeep goes quiet, Benny turning to look at me as he slides his hand further up, his pinkie finger just barely tracing the crease of my thigh, heat and wet pooling just beyond his touch. My lips part and I let out a gasp of air, my eyes finding his. 

There’s a moment of hesitation but then I grip his shirt, pulling him towards me, our lips crashing together. He nips at my bottom lip and I gasp, Benny taking full advantage to slide his tongue into my open mouth, a small moan escaping me. His free hand leaves the steering wheel to grip the back of my head, holding me to him as he explores my mouth. The car behind us honks and we jump apart, the light having already turned green. Benny sticks his hand up to apologize to the car behind us, driving on, but immediately places his hand back on me, this time, his pinkie grazes up my panties and I squirm a little in my seat, not used to this much attention. He stills his movements.

“Is it too much?” He’s actually concerned.

“More like, not enough.”

Benny makes it to his hotel in record time.

Heated touches and kisses down the hallway has Benny dropping his room key a few times. As he tries to jam it into the lock, I slide my hands around him from behind, moving up his stomach from under his shirt and fuck he has a nice body, my hands moving lightly over his toned chest. He finally jams the key into the lock and flings the door open, tossing his keys on top of the dresser. He spins back around to face me, his eyes blown wide and dark with lust. 

He swallows hard. “Are you…are you sure?”

I step close to Benny, gently take his wrist and turn his hand palm up. One hand still holding his, I open my bag and fish out one of the foil squares, and place the condom in Benny’s hand. He glances down at it before looking back at me, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

“Rea, did you get a condom from your friend?”

I can feel the heat blooming in my cheeks. “No! I mean, technically yes but she-”

He cuts me off with his lips, one hand wrapped around my head and the other grips my hips, fingers digging into my skin as he pulls me flush against him. I can feel him hard beneath his jeans and I moan into his kiss, pressing myself against him so I can try to relieve some of the rapidly increasing hear between my thighs. He moves us and I feel the bed hit the back of my knees, but he holds me tighter before breaking the kiss. Both of us rip the shirts from our bodies, my bra quickly following. I reach for my pants but he grabs my wrists and stills them, his blue eys falling to my chest. He gently cups a boob and lightly pinches the nipple and I gasp, the small movement shooting straight between my legs. 

Then Benny sinks to his knees, eye level with my pants. He pops open the button on my jeans, sliding them down my legs where I help him kick them off. His large fingers trace the outline of my panties, the heat pooling there as I gasp at his touch. He hooks his fingers into them and slides them down my legs too, his eyes locked on the space between my thighs. 

“Fuck you’re beautiful,” he half whispers. A half chuckle escapes me before it turns into a moan as he slides his nose up my slit, bumping into my clit. He growls, using my hips to push me down on the bed, tossing my legs over his shoulders like it was nothing. 

Which I have no time to think about because his mouth is on me, his hands on my inner thighs, pressing them further apart, widening his canvas. His tongue explores me, seeking all the areas that have me writhing under his firm grip. He somehow finds spots that I didn’t even know existed, sucking lightly, lapping, the coil of pleasure quickly tightening until a sound erupts from me, somewhere between a chant and a moan, my fingers gripping his hair to keep him in the same spot as he prolongs my release. 

My head is in a blissful haze, but I manage a whine as he pulls away from me, taking his pants off when he does. I hear the sound of the condom opening and I watch him as he rolls the condom on himself. I lean up on my elbows to see better, because he’s gorgeous, not girthy but longer, and definitely not anywhere near a size I’ve had in me. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take my time.” I blink, looking up at his face and see that there’s a hint of concern there, like he wants to make sure I’m comfortable.

I scoot further up on the bed to give him more space. “Don’t worry about me. I can take you.”

His eyes darken and he grabs my ankle, yanking me back down towards the end of the bed. I squeal, my body heating up again as he lowers himself between my legs. He pauses, his eyes bright as he glances between my own. 

“You’re so beautiful,” there’s that almost whisper voice again, his eyebrows pulling together so he looks like a puppy.

“So are you, Benny.” We take each other in for a few more moments, my body about to burst with all of the tension and hormones racing through it. “Now please fuck me, now.” I know I’m begging, but I don’t care. 

And neither does Benny, apparently, as he smirks. “Yes ma’am.”

He slowly presses his hips forward and I let out a moan as he stretches me, pushing further and further in. I’m not sure how, but he bottoms out, dropping his head to my chest, breathing heavy for a moment. 

“Fuck, you feel so good. Gimme a sec so I don’t blow my load like a teenager.”

I manage some sort of confirmation sound, but then a moment later, he slowly pulls out and presses back in, repeating this a few times so I can adjust to his length. It’s driving me mad and I writhe under him, feeling every inch of him as he slowly moves in and out of me. He pulls out, his hips pausing as he looks down at me and it’s like time stops. Just for a moment. Then his lips crash to mine as he pushes forward quickly, sliding into me in one fast movement and I cry out, my hands gripping his biceps, nails digging into his skin as his hips set a fast pace, his direction and speed adjusting to my moans of pleasure. Every time he pushes in, he hits a spot somewhere at the back of me, a place no one has touched, and it sends sparks through my vision, my entire body like a livewire as he pushes me towards the edge.

“Fuck, Benny, I’m gonna-” my body ignites, pleasure radiating out from my cunt, his name tumbling from my lips in praise, begging him to keep going, or stop, or do it again. I have no idea, my head so engulfed in pleasure. 

“Fuck!” He yells, pressing into me one last time before he grunts, little pants and gasps tumbling from him. His head falls to my chest as he comes down. 

We stay like that for several moments, trying to catch our breath. Eventually, Benny pulls out, tossing the condom in the trash can by the bed before rolling onto his back next to me.

“What’s your third favorite dinosaur?”

I laugh, my entire body moving with it as Benny joins in, tears running down our cheeks as my movements turn me towards him. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been asked that question, let alone just after sex.”

Benny shrugs, smiling. “Had to break the tension and awkwardness somehow.” 

“Well that definitely works!”

His face grows serious. “You didn’t answer the question.”

After that laughing fit, I think on it a moment. “Pterodactyl. Because they can fly.”

Benny nods. “Interesting. What’s your favorite then?”

“Nope. I’m saving that answer for after round 2.”

His eyes grow dark almost instantly. “Round 2? Like, tonight?”

“Well, my friend gave me a whole row of condoms and I don’t want to take any home.”

—----

A few hours later, I’m laying in Benny’s bed, thoroughly fucked, Benny sprawled across the bed on his stomach, lightly snoring. He’s so fucking beautiful. But then Sage’s words echo in my head “It’s just a rebound. Have fun and bounce.” I sigh, unsure of what to do. I actually do like Benny, but is that just because he’s the first guy to actually pay attention to me in a long while? Self-doubt seeps in, my ex’s hurtful words and actions taking away the blissful feeling I’d had moments before. I shake my head, telling myself that if any of it was true, I wouldn’t be in a gorgeous man’s bed, a man who just spent the last few hours pulling every spark of pleasure possible from me. 

I quietly stand, gathering up my clothes. I get them on and lace up my boots, trying not to wake Benny. It’s better if I leave before he wakes up. Rebounds don’t work out anyway, so why prolong the inevitable? 

I turn to head towards the door and see the hotel pad of paper and pen next to the phone on the dresser. I stare at it a moment before grabbing the pen, scrawling a quick “Thank You” with a heart at the end. I slide it under his keys and walk to the door, glancing back at the sleeping form of Benny, the man who just restored my confidence. I close it quietly behind me, making sure the lock clicks into place and request an Uber to take me home. 

—----

Over the next few weeks, I try to get Benny out of my head. I try to stop thinking about him or talking about him. I know he’s a rebound, and those relationships don’t work out, as Sage has reminded me more than once. And I’m not sure I’m ready for a new relationship. I think. But talking to him had been so easy, effortless. Like we had been friends since forever. In a moment of desperation, I looked up the hotel on my Uber app and called it, knowing they wouldn’t give me any information about Benny. I can’t blame them. I don’t even know his last name. 

—----

2 lines. The pink lines emerge bright against the white of the testing stick, showing me the same result as the other 4 pregnancy tests I’d taken. My stomach lurches again and I make it to the toilet just in time. I close the lid and flush, wiping my mouth with a washcloth as I stare at my reflection. How the fuck did this happen? We’d used a condom every time, and he used them correctly. It must have been a faulty condom. Fuck, Benny. How am I going to tell him? No really, how? I don’t even know his last name and now I’m having his child. A knock at the door pulls me from my spiral.

“Rea?”

I sniff and wipe my face again. “Pregnant.”

She’s silent for just a beat. “Can I come in?”

I make a noise in approval and she opens the door, heads directly for me and pulls me into a hug where I let myself lose it. Tears streaming down my face, dry heaving breaths, all of it. It takes me a while to calm down enough to talk. Sage wipes my face with a cool cloth and it helps to soothe me a bit more. 

“Are you going to tell him?”

I scoff. “How, Sage?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. Call the hotel? They have to have his info.”

I shake my head. “They won’t give it to me. Especially since I don’t know his last name.”

Sage cocks her head to the side. “How do you know?”

“Oh. I uh, I may have called a few weeks ago to uh try and uh…find. Him.”

She opens her mouth and then closes it. “That doesn’t really matter now. Do you know what you want to do?”

There’s so much I don’t know. I don’t know Benny’s last name. I don’t know where he lives, just that it’s local. I don’t know what he’d even say. I don’t know how this happened. I don’t know a lot. But there’s one thing that I did know right away.

“I’m keeping the baby.”

Sage takes a deep breath and nods once. “I can’t wait to be an auntie.”

—----

“Come on, Rea! You need to get out.”

I sigh, rubbing the side of my belly. “I’m 6 months pregnant, Sage. I don’t belong at an MMA fight.”

Sage copies my sigh and places her hand over mine. “You’ve been cooped up in your room for weeks. Just…come out to get some fresh air?”

“By sitting in a crowded auditorium surrounded by drunks?”

Sage shrugs. “I’m sure they won’t be drunk drunk. Besides, Henry has a special section all roped off just for us.” 

Henry is super sweet. The burly bear sized, flannel clad man from Mick’s had fit right into our friendship, even becoming a sort of surrogate brother for me. And it’s clear to me that he loves Sage with everything he is just by the way he looks at her.

I sigh again, shrugging in a defeated manner. Sage squeals and grips my arm. “Thank you! Oh, you’ll have fun! Just wait and see!”

So now I find myself in a crowded auditorium, surrounded by people drinking. Well, ok the crowd isn’t bad around us. Sage was right - Henry had literally roped off an entire section just for us and glared at anyone who tried to grumble about it. He was really into MMA and had a couple of cousins that were fighting so he always had tickets to some match that was happening. Are they called matches? I don’t know. 

Whatever they’re called, we’re a few in, Henry leaning over to tell us about each of the fighters as they’re announced. These matches are pretty brutal - I didn’t realize just how violent they can get, even with rules in place. The last match ends and the guy with the mop comes back out, cleaning away the blood that came from the last guy losing several teeth with a blow. Once cleaned, the microphone squeaks back on to announce the next fighters.

“From Red Feather Lakes, Colorado, standing 6’3, weighing in at 195 pounds, I give you BEN MILLER!”

A familiar memory scratches at the back of my head as the crowd screams and the doors open from the locker rooms somewhere in the throngs of people now on their feet. Henry leans in to yell in my ear.

“This guy is great! He’s kicked my cousin’s asses a few times! He…”

Whatever he said after fades into the background, which has dimmed to a loud hum, as Ben Miller struts into the ring, tossing his shirt to the side, revealing a very familiar tattoo and his face finally comes into my view.

Benny. 

My stomach leaps into my throat, my heart hammering through my chest as I stare down at the man who I could never shake from my mind, even before I was having his child. Which he doesn’t know about. 

A bell dings and Benny takes a few steps towards his opponent, who immediately clocks him in his jaw, Benny’s head flying backwards. The man manages to get a couple more hits in, Benny almost absorbing all of the hits. But then the man hesitates and Benny takes that moment to attack, winding his way around the ring, jabbing at his opponent in swift, concise, planned motions. The man only stays up for a few more seconds before crumbling to the ground and giving in. The crowd goes wild as the ref holds Benny’s arm in the air, blood trickling down from his nose, a giant smile on his face. My stomach lurches and I quickly stand, yelling something about the bathroom to Sage as I grab my jacket and run for the doors, the room suddenly too small and loud. I shove open the arena’s double doors and stumble out into the nearly empty hallway. The doors close behind me and I pause a moment, taking a few deep breaths to calm myself. But then the doors open behind me again and I attempt to stand up right.

“Rea?”

Benny’s voice echoes down the hallway and through me, my insides simultaneously tightening with nerves but also excited and swooning at his fucking calming tone. My back is to him but I don’t move. He takes a step closer.

“Rea? Is that you?”

Fuck. This isn’t how I would want him to find out. But how would he find out? It’s not like I could find him. I didn’t even know his last name. I don’t-

“Are you ok?”

His voice is closer now, only a few steps behind me. I swallow hard, willing myself to hold it together as I turn to face him, keeping my jacket covering my belly. His bright blue eyes immediately find mine, a smile quicking spreading across his beautiful face. He’s still shirtless and I have to focus to keep my eyes on his face.

“Rea! It is you! I thought I saw your face in the crowd! Did you see me fight?”

I manage a small smile. “Y-yeah. I did. Congrats.”

He shrugs. “Thanks. That guy was easy but when I saw you, I thought maybe he’d hit my head harder than I thought. What…I mean uh, how are you?”

I sigh, my small smile dropping. “I…I have to tell you something.”

His expression turns serious. “Ok. But if it’s about me not calling you, you sort of left me without a last name or number.” He chuckles but stops when I don’t react. 

I hold his gaze a moment longer before letting my jacket fall to the side, exposing my belly under my form fitting black dress. His eyes immediately fall to my belly, his head turning to the side as he takes it in. I can see the moment it clicks, only a second or 2 after I moved my jacket, his eyes widening as his brain works double time to do the math. He points to himself.

“Is that…am I…the dad?”

I nod, rubbing my hand along the side of my belly where the baby is currently moving. “Yes.” I wait for the yell or scoff of disbelief, storming off, telling me I won’t get anything. All of what I had anticipated. But when I look up at him I see tears shining in his bright blues.

“You’re not fuckin’ with me?” His eyebrows pinch together, enhancing the shine from his tears and I shake my head.

“No. You’re the only one I’ve been with since my ex.”

His eyes shift down to my belly again and his hands start to reach out, but then he stops, looking back up at me. “May I?”

I give him a small smile and nod. “Yeah.”

Benny drops to his knees in front of me, placing each of his large hands on either side of my belly, rubbing small circles into my skin. I take his hand and move it, placing it right over where I’d just felt movement. 

“He was just kicking over here.”

His eyes shoot up to mine. “A boy? I’m gonna have a son?”

Fuck how can his eyebrows do that? “Yeah. A son.”

And the tears start to fall, quietly streaking down his cheeks as he laughs, trying to dab at them with the hand I hadn’t just moved. “Hey, little man. It’s me. Your dad.” A hard kick lands right in Benny’s hand and he whoops, rubbing the spot with his thumb. “You got your old man’s feet!” He continues to talk to my belly in the middle of the hallway, not caring if anyone sees him. His face is animated and lit up, despite the dried blood caked under his nose and for a second, I can see an entire future laid out before us. A wedding, a house, dancing together, maybe more kids. The love. It’s only when I snap out of this fairytale vision that I realize I was smoothing back his hair. I yank my hands back and drop them to my sides.

“Shit I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

He glances up at me. “Nah it’s ok. Actually, it felt good.” He watches me for a moment before his expression hardens. “Ok I need to get off this floor.”

He waves away my offer of a helping hand, gesturing towards my belly as he groans, standing to his full height before stretching out his legs. “I’m gettin’ too old to be kneeling on hard ass floors.”

We’re quiet for several moments, each of us just watching the other. 

“Why did you leave without sayin’ anything?”

I take a deep breath. “Benny, I…I’m sorry. I thought about you after that night. A lot. My friend had told me to just make it a rebound, to get my ex out of my head. Which it did, but what I didn’t expect was..well..you. I liked, well…like you a lot. You make me laugh, have some amazing stories, you’re funny, and hot as hell. But you also make me feel seen and heard. Like I wasn’t just there for convenience, which is ironic considering how we met, I realize that. I thought about trying to find you but the hotel wouldn’t tell me anything and I didn’t have anything to go by. And then I found out I was pregnant and I feel so guilty for not t- telling y- you, but I di-didn’t know h-how. I’m so s-s-sorry!” I can’t fight the pregnancy hormones anymore and the tears come, streaming down my face as I try to turn away, looking down and wiping furiously at my face. But then he’s there, pulling me towards him as best he can, his hand cradling the back of my head. 

“Hey, it’s ok. I never did tell you my last name or ask for your number neither. I could’ve but I didn’t.” My crying slows and he pulls back just enough to look down at me, wiping away a tear. “And I’ve regretted it ever since. I haven’t stopped thinkin’ about you either, Rea. But I really had no way of finding you. But now that we’ve found each other again, can I have your number? I’d really like to take you to dinner.”

I let out a shaky chuckle. “It’s ok, Benny. You don’t have to do that.”

He cocks his head. “Do…what?”

“Take me to dinner. Listen, you can be as involved as you want. I won’t hold you to anything. I just wanted you to know. But you don’t have to-”

“No. I’m not asking you out because you’re pregnant. I’m asking you out because I’ve wanted to for months and regretted it every day that I didn’t.”

“Benny, really. It’s ok.”

“No, I- will you wait right here a moment?”

I nod and he places his hand on my belly once more, his son giving him another thump before he practically runs back through the double doors. Once they close, I walk over to the wall and lean my back against it, my emotions running through me. Is he telling the truth? Were we both just fucking idiots? That’s an obvious yes. But still, I don’t want him to feel like he owes me. It would be nice to hang with him again, though. No, Rea. Don’t make him feel forced. The double doors fly open and Benny comes running up to me, his wallet in his hand. 

“I don’t need money, Ben-”

He shakes his head. “No. Well I mean if you need it, I’ll gladly give it but that’s not…here.” He slides out a small slip of paper from behind his driver’s license and unfolds it, handing it to me. 

It’s the thank you note I scribbled to him and left in the hotel.

Tears well in my eyes again. “You..you kept this?” 

His eyes sparkle as they look at me. “Hell yeah I did. I told you, I couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you. But I had no way of findin’ you. I went to the bar every night hoping to see you walk in. But I never did.”

“I got too busy with work and then..” I gesture down to my belly and he laughs, placing a hand on my stomach again.

“Yeah I can’t blame you for not wanting to be in a bar. Especially your first trimester.”

My eyebrows raise. “What do you know about trimesters?”

“My sister was a hot fuckin’ mess during hers. Sick all the time, emotional, all of it. She felt bad about it too no matter how much we told her not to worry. My niece is 5 now and has the attitude to match.” He chuckles. “I can’t wait to meet this little guy..my little guy. Ours? Fuck this is hard to say.”

“Either way, I’m just glad you can say it.” I clutch the paper in my hand for a moment before handing it back to him. 

“So when’s that dinner?”

We’re married a year later. 

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

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[livelaughloveluffy]

just the two of us - black leg sanji

a/n: (this totally isn't my comfort bedtime dream scenario at all......idk what you're talking about...) just a little sanji x reader fic!!! sorry, no proofreading here, if you see anything, no you didn't 😭💀

a/n: also spoilers for book one of the mistborn trilogy, the book, im talking about in the fic was book two (since im currently reading it at the moment)

summary: you and sanji have the sunny to yourselves while everyone explores the island you stopped at!

nothing but fluff here 💗

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

its not often you have the sunny all to yourself, and quite frankly its a time you cherish. everyone had been getting a bit of cabin fever on your long voyage, and decided to take a pit stop at the closest island.

nami and robin have been dying for some more pieces for their wardrobe. luffy, whose always overzealous for some exploration needed no convincing to jump off the ship the second it docked, practically begged zoro for some company in his shenanigans, brooke left tragically stuck with them to make sure the two of them didn't get lost or start a fight. chopper wanted to look for a particular medical book. and usopp and franky wanted to gather materials for all their inventions. sanji always enjoyed looking at local cuisines to find new ingredients and also stock up on things he's almost out of.

which left you, the only one willing to stand guard on the sunny. not that you minded, a quite ship was the perfect time to relax on the deck, stretched out on a lounge chair, book in hand, enjoying the warm sun, sea breeze, and the sounds of the waves as you read.

•♡•

you weren't sure how much time had passed, since you had gotten so absorbed in the story. but it wasn't until you heard some faint footsteps behind you that you practically jumped out of your skin, slamming your book closed and turning to see who had stepped foot on the sunny.

"sanji! oh thank god... its just you. you scared the shit out of me!!" you yelled at him. the blonde cook looks at you with an adorable smile and replies "sorry, mon amour! i didn't mean to frighten you. i finished early with all the grocery shopping and figured i would head back here to put them away. must be a really good book you're reading, i tried calling your name so i didn't scare you but i guess you didn't hear me."

"really? i didn't hear you at all.." your cheeks suddenly heating up, a bit embarrassed he had caught you off guard.

"you're fine, mellorine!! i'm going to get these to the kitchen now!" he said, with a slight chuckle, taking a drag of his cigarette.

"oh, yeah!! of course! go do your thing! i'll be here!"

•♡•

you go back to your book, finding the page you stopped at by the grace of god herself, but this time making a conscious effort to pay a bit more attention to your surroundings. the sound of pattering footsteps again sound behind you, seemingly coming closer to you.

you turn around to sanji, with a delicious looking fruity drink in hand. he breaks the silence first by saying "mon amour, may i offer you like this pineapple strawberry lemonade? as a peace offering for scaring you." with a slight blush growing on his cheeks, you instantly felt a little weak, how could you say no to him?

"you're lucky that strawberry lemonade is my favorite, and that the drink looks absolutely divine" you replied, a clear empty threat given the blush on your face as well. he smiled and happily obliged handing the drink over to you. "anything else i can get you? maybe a snack?" he offers.

you pause for a second. "....i wouldn't mind some company. if you have the time for it."

sanji, who definitely wasn't expecting that response choked a bit on the his cigarette smoke, taking a small moment to collect himself he answers "i have the time... i wouldn't want to interrupt your book though. what's it about anyways, it must be super interesting to hold your attention like that."

the sudden reminder of your book, which had totally slipped your mind since sanji returned came rushing back to you "oh! it's super interesting actually!! basically, this girl was able to take down this tyrant ruling over her city, but is now left with the fallout of a government without a leader. her love interest the most logical choice to take the throne, she's more of a fighter than a leader, is now faced with lords trying to siege their land and...." sanji's quiet chuckle stopping your info dump, making you a bit embarrassed and self conscious for getting carried away.

but for some reason the way his sky-blue eyes glowed when he looked at you made you blurt out the following "i can read it to you, if you want..."

with a wide smile, he sat down next to you and said "i would love that"

•♡•

the lounge chair was a bit small for the both of you to sit on it, forcing you a bit closer than you had anticipated, which was a problem.... sort of..

unlike nami and robin, you didn't really find sanji off-putting, annoying, or creepy. you actually found him to be quite charming.

with his fluffy golden blonde hair and the way it rested against his forehead covering his right eye, his slim but muscular build, those ocean blue eyes you could drown in, was really just the beginning of the list of all the things you loved about black leg sanji. thats not even mentioning his passion and kind heart.

so the problem was, on this too small for two people lounge chair, that you're hanging on the edge of to avoid physical contact with a guy you've definitely been pining some feelings for, but were too anxious to actually be that close to him.

the lack of thought about the practicality of your suggestion made you want to crawl into a hole and never come out of it.

sanji, being the gentleman he is, was doing his damn best to not touch you, despite the space of the chair actively fighting against him. "are you comfortable, mellorine?" he asks, not looking too comfortable himself.

are you really going to run from this opportunity to cuddle up to sanji?

"um... yeah.. i'm-" but before you could get out the word comfortable, the wind had shifted and the sudden chilling breeze made you practically jump into sanji's lap for warmth burying your face into his chest.

it took .2 seconds to register what had just happened and .5 seconds to decide to just roll with. "i am now" you reply, pulling yourself a little bit closer to him as you can finally begin reading your book aloud to sanji.

•♡•

for a moment, you believe you had died and went to heaven. the warmth and closeness of sanji, his arms had wrapped around your body in attempts to shield you from the cold, had you practically enveloped and dissolving into him. he smelled like sandalwood, cigarette smoke, and rosemary, definitely an odd combination but one that suited him so well and surprisingly complimented each other.

whenever you had the chance to catch his eye at the end of a chapter, or whenever he asked a clarifying question to better understand the plot, you couldn't help but swoon over his genuine interest in you and your hobby.

chapter after chapter flew by and it wasn't until you heard a familiar voice that you stopped dead in your tracks, "ah!! you'll never guess i found the cutest-" nami had begun to call out to you until she spotted a certain someone's blonde hair precariously close to you. "um... what are you two doing?"

"oh! i was talking to sanji about my book, and he seemed really interested in it so i offered to read it to him, then it got super chilly and um..." you frantically explained, nami's raised her eyebrow at you both, mainly because she didn't remember you mentioning you had a thing for sanji but also slightly suspicious of the cook's intentions. however, the rapidly appearing bright blush flushing your cheeks quelled those suspicions. "okay, um... carry on then.. sorry to interrupt.. i- i'll show you the top later" she said, obviously awkward especially since she felt like she killed the vibe for you both.

as nami walked away, you could see usopp beginning to board the sunny again. sanji had seen this as well and suddenly called out "wait, nami, what time is it?"

"its about 4:30"

at her response, sanji started slowly untangling himself from you and getting ready to stand up "oh putain, i totally lost track of time, i need to start prepping for dinner. i can totally see how you can get lost in a story like that, im kinda bummed we couldn't finish it.... i was really starting to get into it" he said, relighting his cigarette, since he put it out earlier not wanting to smoke so close to you.

"maybe we can do it again..." you quietly offered.

"i'd enjoy that a lot, mon amour" he replied with a smile, as he turned away to head back to the kitchen.

and how you'll long for the next time it'll be just the two of you...

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

a/n: in my universe, of course god is a woman 😌 who else deserves such devout worship? 😌😌😌

a/n: i also stand by the headcannon that when sanji swears, its in french so thats what that is

a/n: enjoyed this fic? here's my masterlist!

[matchadobo]

KIDD; what are we?

wc: 555

summary: you ask kidd the burning question during the act.

warning/s: 🔞nsfw, afab reader, smut-fluff, actual seggs

"what are we?"

kidd blinked at you, he was frozen. he was still inside you, cock throbbing and heavy. you were holding onto his face, your eyes teary and cheeks flushed. he had his hips prying your legs open but his movements came to a stop at your statement. his face was close, so close you could see his eyes shaking.

he took a lot of staring before snorting and chuckling. "you know what we are, bunny. you just wanna hear me say it, aye?"

his hips resumed to rock back and forth, leaning back as he looked down at you. smiling as he gazed at you sinfully. your grip on his arm tightened at his impact.

he was right. you two are not in an official relationship; no vows had been made, no confessions, nor had you two moved further than keeping your beds warm. but you two are clearly aware that you two belong to each other. aware that it's only him and only you in his life. aware that nobody else other than the both of you can make you feel as good as each other do. aware that you two want to take it further but are just tiptoeing because you two don't want to break whatever you two have. that's why it's been static.

so when you two came and finished, it was quiet. contrast to the usual nights where you two never ran out of things to talk about. you wanted to say something but what? where do you even start?

"if i said i want more than sex," kidd cleared his throat. "would that change anything?" kidd turned his head to the side, full attention on you.

"i always think to myself, do those kisses mean anything or do you just want to keep my cock warm? do the kisses on my scars mean anything or you just whore over me? do the reminder to fuckin' eat as you barge in my workshop just an invitation for sex or do you actually care about me? are you being patient with me because you genuinely wanna be or just so i still grow fond of you?"

this was the first time kidd had been so vocal about your relationship. that must be why tears are streaming down your cheeks as you listened to his deep, hoarse voice. his golden eyes were burning with genuine concern and anticipation of what you're about to say.

"i care about you. i kiss you because i want to. i kiss your scars because i want you to feel safe and i want you to love your scars. i make sure you eat because i don't want you to get sick from starving yourself. i'm patient with you because i want to. i'm doing everything because i want to. because i love you." and it all spilled out of you, not missing a heartbeat.

and kidd held your gaze firmly while you do so. his cock soft on your stomach, your breasts squished in his embrace, your cunt brushing on his thigh, and your legs entangled with each other. a single tear fell from kidd's eyes.

"of course you do," he chuckled. "but it ain't always you who does the sappy shit, got it? let's have a date tomorrow, sort this all out, aye?"

tumblr formatting is kinda weird?? i don't see some buttons lol. ANW boutta reach 500 oml, i got an event prepared for you guys! i'm soooo excited to be writing again bc college welcomed me with baptism through fire honestly! so hectic. but here we are, i'd love to get my drive back and accept some requests. i hope the absences don't bore you guys ;=;. i swear look forward to the event! i anticipate your requests!

spoiler: i'll be accepting a total of 15 requests for the duration of the event, so 15 fics??? can u imagine????

[acmelxvr]

Take A Seat, Inquisitor

Pairing: Female Lavellan x Solas

Summary: Solas finds the Inquisitor in desperate need of some relaxation in the Winter Palace. And, well, he can provide.

Genre/Tags: Explicit, Canon Compliant, POV Third Person, Spoilers for Dragon Age: Inquisition, Drunk Sex, No Penetration Though, Thigh Riding, Praise, Dirty Talk, Ear Licking, Edging, Orgasm Denial, Biting, Premature Ejaculation, Mentions of Oral Sex

Word Count: 3,900

Notes: This is my first Solas fic so be gentle pls...I also posted it on AO3, you can read it there by clicking this link if you want :3

“And that’s how I ended up hunting wyverns in the Frostbacks with only two pairs of breeches!” All the nobles and Inquisition personnel in the small circle laugh at the lord’s story, some more forced than others. The ball at the Winter Palace wanes into the early hours of the morning now with no end in sight. Although drinks and food are still being served, the massive crowd has thinned into small packs of chattering lords and ladies who would dare not make the faux pas of leaving too early.

“I think I’m going to explore the library.” Lavellan murmurs to Leliana, Josephine, and Cullen. The excuse is enough to dissuade the rest of the crowd from protesting the Inquisitor’s departure from the group, but her three advisors are unconvinced.

“Take me with you.” Cullen pleads through gritted teeth, smiling a bit too wide as he barely follows along to the conversation taking place. Josephine tuts at the Commander but simply nods at Lavellan. 

“Good idea. You might find some of the more intellectual attendees who would be interested in learning more about the Inquisition.” Josephine’s eyes twinkle at the possibilities, and the Inquisitor nods politely.

“Yes, I will most definitely be doing that.” She says flatly, causing Cullen to snort and this time earn a light kick from Leliana that could easily be passed as a stretch of the knee. As Lavellan begins to take her leave, the Spymaster grabs her arm and turns to speak over her shoulder to avoid any eavesdroppers.

“You did well tonight.” She starts. “You are a complete natural at The Game, despite the many forces working against you.” Lavellan smirks at the praise, knowing Leliana probably thought she would trip over her own two feet. “You’ve earned a respite, even just for a few hours before our work starts up again.” The last part she fully whispers, leaning in conspicuously. “For once, I will advise you to not listen to Josephine.” She smiles knowingly before dropping the Inquisitor’s arm. 

Lavellan chuckles. “You read my mind.” She takes small steps through the ballroom towards the vestibule, occasionally saying hello to people she passes. Her mind spins with the possibilities of her alliance with Empress Celene; what it means for the Inquisition, for the Dalish, for herself. The Inquisitor is still deep in thought when she looks up and realizes that her body seemed to auto-pilot her straight into the Grand Library. The guards that used to be stationed near the entrance have disappeared, gone hours ago once the threat against the Empress’s life was neutralized. She worries over this for a moment, before dropping her shoulders and taking a deep breath as she remembers Leliana’s words.

Her fingers trace over the many titles packed into the various shelves, some in languages Lavellan doesn’t even recognize. She smiles softly as she picks up a book by a professor in the Free Marches collecting Dalish songs and tales. She leans against a desk, facing away from the Grand Library entrance, while she flips through the pages and remembers a much simpler time. 

“I figured you’d be hiding in here.” The voice makes her jump, yelp, and drop the book at the same time. She quickly turns with her hand over her hidden dagger strapped to her thigh, only to sigh when Solas snorts with laughter. “The Inquisitor should not be so easily caught off guard.” He exclaims, the two flutes of champagne in each hand shaking as he chuckles to himself.

“Yes, well, forgive me if it pleases you.” She snips, then grimaces when Solas raises his eyebrows slightly at her short tone. “I’m sorry. I had finally escaped from all those people out there…I guess I got a bit caught up in what I was reading.” Her explanation is jumbled, but Solas places the two drinks on the desk before waving her off.

“Do not apologize. I’m certain you’ve had a much busier night than I. I can leave, if you wish.” He points towards one glass as an offering. Lavellan nods gratefully before grabbing the thin spine of the delicate piece and holding it close to her chest.

“Please, stay.” She says. “You’re good company.” Solas smiles and shakes his head as another laugh escapes him. He heads towards the shelf Lavellan previously occupied, now examining the tomes himself.  With his back towards Lavellan, she can’t help but take in Solas’ form. He towers over her a bit and his broad shoulders also help distinguish Solas from the Dalish elves she’s used to. Even in the alienages, Solas stands out as…bigger.

Lavellan coughs, a flush climbing her cheeks as her mind wanders to more depraved thoughts about Solas’ body. Solas was certainly free with his verbal affections, but they had only just started engaging in physical affections recently. Even then, they had only kissed. Lavellan didn’t mind waiting, of course, but it felt as though every time it developed into something more that Solas pulled away. 

Solas clears his throat, bringing the Inquisitor out of her thoughts as though he has eyes on the back of his head and can see how she’s examining him. Or maybe being a mage with a speciality in the Fade lets him read minds. Lavellan’s eyes widen as the drink begins to take hold. Can Solas read minds? She thinks, half seriously. “Inquisitor?” Solas asks.

“Yes!” He turns to fully face her as he holds a book in his hand. “Yes, sorry. Long night.” She mutters, taking another sip. She can feel Solas’s gaze on her as she redirects her vision to a different corner of the room. The shadows dance along the wall as the various candles around the room burn low. There’s a moment of silence, as though Solas is deciding to address the tension in the room. 

“I asked whether you enjoyed your time in the Winter Palace tonight.” Solas leans against the bookshelf, a sly smile gracing his face. “The way you managed to navigate the nobility, the ballroom floor, and an assassination attempt was particularly stunning.” He swirls his beverage in one hand as he flips through his chosen book. Solas’ choice of words cause Lavellan to finally bring her attention back to him. She scrutinizes him for a moment, furrowing her brow as her eyes rake over his stature from head to toe. Finally, she smiles too.

“Solas, are you drunk?” She asks. She giggles as Solas opens his mouth to give a quick retort, but closes it when he realizes he doesn’t have one. He shakes his head in slight embarrassment and drops his eyes as the Inquisitor continues to quietly laugh. “I guess I need to catch up.” Lavellan murmurs as Solas regains his footing in the conversation.

“I will admit to partaking in more drinking than I usually allow myself. All the power, intrigue, danger, sex…” He notices how Lavellan crosses her legs when he pauses. “Well, I suppose it’s nice to go unnoticed for an evening. To engage in behavior that is unbecoming of me.” Lavellan shakes her head, alleviating his fears that she thinks less of him now. “You haven’t answered my original question.” He states, placing his book back on the shelf.

“Enjoyed is not the word I would use.” She pauses, thinking deeply on her answer. “I’m glad I was able to play The Game well enough. It was almost satisfying being able to talk circles around humans.” Solas nods ruefully, staying silent. “But I was on edge the entire time. Constantly waiting for something to go wrong. And when the Grand Duchess was dragged away…” She trails off. 

“Power can be suffocating, sometimes.” Solas finishes Lavellan’s thought. They’ve both finished their drinks at this point, the flush on Lavellan’s face indicating that she’s just as tipsy as Solas is. “There are times when a decision needs to be made. Even the correct choice is never an easy one.” Solas’s expression turns serious, and Lavellan cocks her head.

“So you think I made the right choice? Going with Empress Celene?” She asks. The candles in the Library have dimmed even further as the moon creeps higher above Halamshiral. Solas tilts his head back against the fine wooden shelf, crossing his arms and looking down at the Inquisitor.

“Is my praise necessary for you to feel at ease?” His question makes Lavellan laugh, a true laugh that comes from her stomach. It’s infectious to Solas, a smile creeping onto his face replacing the scowl he had moments before. “Briala and Celene could never have ruled together, and Gaspard is a disaster when it comes to court. In the Fade I’ve seen whole nations crumble because someone would rather force a compromise than make a real decision.” He moves towards Lavellan, all social grace completely lost, and places a hand on her shoulder. “You made a real decision, ma vhenan. They are never easy.” 

Lavellan looks up at Solas, who is only now an arm’s length away. “Ma vhenan?” She restates, teasing Solas now. “That is an odd way to pronounce ‘Inquisitor’, Solas.” Her hand creeps up to rest on top of Solas, the space between the two elves shrinking as he moves to grip her waist.

He rests his forehead against Lavellan’s, rubbing her shoulder with his thumb adoringly. “You looked breathtaking tonight. You were magnificent, awe-inspiring. You’ll forgive me if I drop your title. I couldn’t bear to hide how I feel for you any longer.” He pulls back momentarily to kiss the top of her head, one hand moving to the small of her back. She leans into his touch, and for some minutes the pair is silent, their embrace only betrayed by the soft skitters of someone passing through the hallway.

The trance is broken as Lavellan gives a soft push to Solas. “I should head back now. There are people probably looking for me.” She groans and rolls her shoulders, her muscles tensing back as she recalls what it feels like to have a dozen pairs of eyes on you at all times. She turns to leave, but Solas captures her arm.

“You’ve played your part for the night, vhenan.” Solas pulls Lavellan flush against him, her backside against his groin. Solas forgets his inhibitions as he pulls her collar back to plant a kiss on her neck, making Lavellan gasp. Another kiss and a roll of Solas’s hips makes her groan louder, planting her hands on the desk. “Relax with me. Forget your duty, even for a moment.” Solas’ words cause a small pit of guilt to form in his heart, but it retreats when Lavellan moans again. 

“Josephine would personally see to our executions if we were caught having sex in the Winter Palace.” Lavellan’s skin is practically lit on fire with every single one of Solas’s touches, his fingertips dancing down her waist. “And I think the Orlesian nobility would die from heart attacks if they found two naked elves here.” She turns to face Solas, who stops momentarily to grin wildly, showing his sharp canines.

“I haven’t said anything about being naked.” Their faces are inches apart, both of them breathing heavily as arousal sits heavy in their stomachs. “There are many things one can do to relax without being naked, if their imagination allows it.” Solas whispers in Lavellan’s ear. He pulls away and guides Lavellan to a plush couch in a dark corner, far from any immediate entrance into the library. Solas lets go of her hand and sits on the couch, spreading his legs wide. He leans back on the couch, throwing one arm over the velveteen, and pats his thigh, beckoning Lavellan to sit.

To sit on him.

Lavellan swallows as she takes the sight in. She’s imagined, dreamed of sex with Solas dozens of times, but this was something entirely new. Something she hadn’t even begun to consider, but was still enticing nonetheless. “Is this something you want?” She asks him.

“Yes.” Solas answers so quickly that Lavellan is taken aback. “Nothing would bring me more pleasure right now than to give you pleasure.” He holds out a hand for Lavellan to grab, and tugs her on top of him. “It is selfish of me to admit, but I do not kiss you the way I do solely for your benefit.” He rolls his thigh up causing Lavellan to cover her mouth as she moans. “I do it because I also enjoy it. No, enjoy is too simple of a word.” He turns his head to think while Lavellan grips his shoulders with both hands. “I relish it. Feeling you against me, with only some layers of clothing to separate us…Fenedhis, ma vhenan. You’ve undone me. I haven’t been this overcome with desire in a long time…You make it difficult to control myself.” He plants his hands on her hips. “Let me guide you. Let me show you what I mean. We can reckon with our indulgences in the morning.” 

Solas’ words have Lavellan dripping. she nods, and plants herself fully onto Solas’ thigh, moving her hands to Solas’ neck and jaw. He starts pushing her back and forth against his leg, adjusting the pressure by examining the way her face contorts just so. She moves to cover her eyes but Solas stops her. “You are so beautiful right now, vhenan. Do not think about how you might look, but focus on how you feel.” She obliges Solas and slowly drops her fingers back to his jaw. Solas notices how his words make her quicken the pace, if for a moment. “Ah, so you do need my praise to feel at ease. Very well.” 

Solas keeps one hand on Lavellan’s hips, and moves one to the back of her head, entangling his fingers in her hair and pulling her down so he can whisper to her. She gasps as he presses up into her, causing her to roll her hips on her own. Although she can’t see it, she knows Solas is smiling with pride right now. “Just like that, perfect. You are a natural at this, vhenan.” His lips move against her ear as she forms a rhythm, her moans forming a perfect harmony with Solas as he groans from the pressure building in his own sex. The slight push and pull causes him to rub against the smooth fabric, making him knit his brow in concentration to ensure he somehow doesn’t cum before she does. He can’t remember the last time he did something like this with someone else; and while he’s relieved himself plenty of times since meeting the Inquisitor, he didn’t allow himself to think their relationship would get this far.

Lavellan whines loudly when Solas grinds up against her clit, the wet patch on his thigh exciting him more than before. He pulls Lavellan so that way they’re face to face, and kisses her like it’s the first time. She heaves against him, pressing her chest against his to get a better angle. Solas groans, louder this time as Lavellan’s knee presses up against his erection. Like everything else about Solas, it’s somehow bigger than she expected. “If you keep stopping, Inquisitor, you will inflate my ego. And getting you into this position has made me prideful enough already.”

 He kisses her again, sloppily this time, the alcohol ignoring any expectations of how their first time together would go. Solas presses his tongue against Lavellan’s, his eyes rolling back at the vibration of her moans. He finds her chest with one of his palms, kneading her and finding a nipple with ease. She yelps when he pinches and rolls, her thighs beginning to shake. Lavellan’s pace has quickened to a point where her thighs burn, the strain of muscle mixing with her pleasure. She begins to chant his name, panting and whining when Solas lets go of her nipples and moves his hands to her backside, massaging Lavellan and gripping her with a strength she didn’t know he had. “Do you know how many times I’ve finished thinking of this exact situation? How I’ve dreamed of having you completely?” Lavellan shakes her head. “Thirty four times I’ve spilled myself over my own hand thinking of how beautiful you’d look like this. For the first time in my life, my dreams cannot compare to the real thing.”

Lavellan gains confidence through Solas’s words and leans forward, almost coming in for a kiss but at the last second, she moves past Solas’s lips. Instead, she focuses on his ears; she licks a long strip from his jawline to the tip of his ears, noticing how Solas shivers and making him wonder how the hell she figured that out. She laughs while still moaning and gasping for more. “I knew you were sensitive here. Had to be, because I noticed how you pulled away the first time we kissed when I went to grab you,” She moves her thumb just underneath the other ear, making Solas jump in shock and pleasure. “Here.” She finishes, returning her mouth to latch onto Solas’s helix. She licks a circle around the apex of his damned ears, running her tongue up and down the ridge before returning to his lips. “Imagine what else my mouth can do.” Her breath mixes with his as both of them pant, although Solas does close his eyes momentarily to see the picture she’s painted. 

Solas bites his lip, almost drawing blood by how close he’s come to cumming over himself. Both of them are sweating now, Lavellan’s pristine hair stuck to her forehead. “Fenedhis–” She presses her knee against Solas’ cock again as she moves her clit down onto him, “–Fuck–”, he groans loudly as her pace quickens and she begins to babble quietly in his ear. If someone had walked in on them, Solas was too preoccupied to notice.

“I’m going to–I think I’m gonna–” Solas nods approvingly while Lavellan’s release reaches its peak. Solas closes his eyes, tears forming in the corners as he pleads with himself to hold off for just a bit longer. In a final move of complete desperation and arousal, Solas latches onto Lavellan’s neck.

And bites.

Lavellan yelps and it’s what finally sends her over the edge. She cums on Solas’s thigh, stuttering and gripping onto him while he licks at the marks his teeth had left. Both of them are moaning, although Lavellan has the sense to cover her mouth. When she finally comes down from her orgasm, Solas leans back to examine his work. Lavellan looks down and breathlessly laughs. “I made a bit of a mess.” Is all she says, and Solas lifts her momentarily to examine her handiwork.

Solas’s thigh is so soaked that Lavellan’s juices had even begun to pool next to Solas in those final moments. He smiles softly and pats Lavellan approvingly. “It is an easy enough task to warm my hands and dry my clothes, as I have done before. Do not worry.” Lavellan moves to get up off of Solas and onto her knees in front of him, but he stops her. “As much as the thought entices me, and believe me when I say it does, I’ve stolen enough of your time tonight.” She crinkles her brow in confusion, and gestures towards Solas’s groin where his erection is clearly visible, and pre-cum has even started leaking through his trousers. 

“Ah.” He says, and while he does entertain the thought longer than he should have, he still shakes his head. “This was for you, not for me. And besides,” He stands up and kisses Lavellan. “I can’t imagine there won’t be more opportunities for me to catch up.” Lavellan snorts, giving another kiss to Solas before smoothing down her attire and hair. 

“How do I look?” She asked sarcastically.

“Magnificent.” Solas responds, moving closer to brush her hair with his fingertips. He plants a gentle kiss on her forehead. She seems to be remembering something and laughs; Solas tilts his head in a silent question.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you curse like that. I didn’t think ‘fuck’ was even in your vocabulary.” Solas’s cheeks flush red and he coughs in surprise.

“Yes, well…” He stammers underneath Lavellan’s stare. “You bring out a part in me I thought I put away long ago.” Solas smiles lightly. “And that part is inclined to curse, occasionally, when underneath a fascinating woman such as yourself.” This time, Solas is the one to let go. He nods towards the Library entrance, and Lavellan sighs before squeezing his hand and stepping quietly into the hallway. He waits until he can no longer hear her footsteps before sitting down and throwing his head back against the couch. The late hour and sudden physical activity has him utterly spent.

The elf looks down, his cock practically bursting against his leg and begging to be taken care of. “I’m not that depraved.” He murmurs. Solas’s eyes close, and while he tries to think of more important matters, he can’t remove the image of Lavellan on top of him from his mind. The way she bounced on his lap, how her mouth felt against him, makes Solas bite his knuckles to hold back a moan. How she jittered when he marked her, claiming the Inquisitor all for himself as her neck bloomed with purple splotches from his sharp teeth and how quickly her release came from an action that felt as natural to Solas as blinking. Solas breathes in, then out through his nose, attempting to bring himself back to reality, but he can’t help but recall the offer she left on the table before Lavellan took her leave. Her lips would look so pretty wrapped around him, gagging and moaning as she would try to take him all the way, his tip hitting the back of her throat—

Solas jolts suddenly as his orgasm hits him like a slap against the face, the dark stain of cum now spreading down his thigh. Solas bites down hard on his palm, unable to fully hold his voice back as the smallest movement against his trousers prolongs his release even further. When the immense pleasure finally subsides, Solas opens one eye hesitantly to assess the damage. He groans into his hands, a conjured flame able to dry his clothes but not the Orlesian, and definitely expensive, couch.

It’s hours later when the morning sun rises over Halamshiral that the Inquisition takes their leave. Solas blearily rubs his eyes and yawns, although when he catches Lavellan’s smile he can’t help but reciprocate despite his weariness. The Iron Bull looks between the pair before laughing and slapping Solas on the shoulder. “Sleep well?” He asks simply, although Solas knows the Bull well enough to know that his questions are never simple.

“No, I had a long night.” Solas quips, eager to head back to Skyhold and be as far away from the Winter Palace as possible. The unspoken part being that he is more eager to finish what he started mere hours before.

“Yeah? Spend some time cleaning in the library?” The Iron Bull asks, looking at the way Solas and the Inquisitor blanche before guffawing loudly. As he walks away he shakes his head. “You guys are not fucking subtle.” 

[libraryraccoon]

Ok, so, imagine the overblot hand with a yuu that has a gigantic griffin as a familiar, I'm talking 10' feet for more. Oh yeah, that's just my partner and their

12' FEET TALL GRIFFIN???

Raccoon Note : YES. JUST A 12' FEET TALL GRIFFIN WITH A LIL' WITHOUT MAGIC TEENAGER Genre : GN Type : Headcanon Characters : Overblot boys + the apparition of Grim and Crowley Infos about the fic : Griffin are seeing as one of the most dangerous thing in Twisted Wonderland and hard to find (it's a twisted world after all). Yuu's world Griffins are NOT the same as the ones in Twisted Wonderland. TW : English isn't my first language, bad english. I don't really know a lot about griffins but I tried, the griffins in Yuu's world are NOT the same in Twisted Wonderland.

Crowley was looking for the new student, they had opened their gate by themselves and left ! This had never happened before ! Now, Crowley had to search them without any help !

He walked towards the garden, where he saw a student (probably the new one) with some kind of cat with blue fire similar to those of the Shroud.

Crowley approached, preparing his magic to deal with the animal, when a large animal charged at the cat and- WAS IT A GRIFFIN ?!

No need to tell that Crowley thought he was dreaming when you said that that Griffin was your familiar.

He brought you back to the ceremony, praying that your griffin could pass through the doors normally, without breaking everything.

Spoiler : The griffin was too tall. The doors are broken now (and Crowley is crying looking at the costs he will have to pay for repairs).

When you entered in the ceremony room, all attention was on the griffin that had just broken down the door to get in.

(I will rename the griffin Cloudwing because they need a name)

Cloudwing was looking everywhere, searching for a potential menace, until you told them to stop and that nothing bad would happen.

When the studiants saw that the griffin was listening to you, they were sure you will be sort at Diasomnia. I mean, a human that have a giant griffin must be really powerful, right ?

No need to tell the shock they had when the Black Mirror said you had no magic.

Grim took advantage of the confusion of the students and the headmage to create chaos, saying that he wanted that without magic-human place.

"Catch him." Was all you said to your griffin, not even looking at Grim.

5 seconds after this order, Grim was trapped under one of the griffin's legs. The griffin looked at Grim in the eyes, wanting to eat him.

"Cloudwing, don't look at the weasel-cat-whatever this is, like that. You're going to scare him."

The griffin huffed but looked away to look at you, waiting the next order.

The students all looked at you with fear and respect. No one had seen a griffin obey at a human so well before- but one without magic ? That had never happened in history !

And Crowley...

"Teenagers scare the livin' shit out of me-"

At the end, you had to stay at the school at Ramshackle.

Funfact : When Crowley said that you were gonna be the school janitor/handyman, Cloudwing attack him before you could stop them, and Crowley was so scared that this griffin will unlive him that he said "You know what ? Ignore that, you can be a student-" in a very fearful way.

Riddle Rosehearts

When you met him, you thought he was a tyrant who's rules are dumb and useless.

I mean, cancelling the magic of others because they have break a rule ? Does he want the students of his dorm to fail their classes ?

You didn't like him, and Cloudwing too.

The only reason you were going to their un-birthday party was because you didn't want Ace and Deuce going back to their dorm alone, not with that tyrant in there.

And you didn't trust Trey and Cater, not when they were close with Riddle. They could betray you for all that you know.

And spoiler : they did.

-

During his overblot, you were at first analyzing it, looking for any weakness.

The two only ways to defeate it was to make Riddle faint or to destroy his phantom.

The glass of the phantom didn't look very strong- it looked like normal glass.

So you did what you thought was the best..

"Cloudwing, detroy that glass head."

You didn't have to say it twice before Cloudwing sinks their claws into the glass, scratching it, destroying it, the black substance (was it the blot ?) spilling onto the floor.

After about a minute, all that remained of the Overblot was a passed out and injured Riddle, along with a huge black/blot puddle that was once the phantom.

-

When Riddle woke up and learn that you were helping, he didn't believe it.

After all, why would you help him ? All that you knew about him was that he was a tyrant.

When he apologized to you, you quickly accepted the apology and asked him if you could come to the un-birthday party Ace had requested.

The un-birthday was good, even the salty pie wasn't that bad.

Even if your griffin had another opinion about the pie..

Leona Kingscholar

You didn't talk with Leona a lot before discovering it was him who was the mastermind behind all the injuries of the magift players.

And when you and others confront him about it, he overblot.

That time, Cloudwing didn't destroy the phantom, no, they attack Leona directly.

Leona's unique magic touches you, and Cloudwing was scared that you will die, really scared. So they acted on instinct.

There was a lot of blood shed on both sides, new scars.

At the end of the Overblot, Leona got some new scars in the shape of griffin talons, and Cloudwing got some lion's scars.

Leona wasn't really happy to have new scars, but it was the price for overblotting, he guess.

You apologized for the scars Cloudwing gave him before living the room, letting him alone.

-

"I know you were scared, but remember : they aren't in their normal condition when they ovetblot. Try to be a little more careful when you fight with them next time, or just fight the phatom behind them. We don't want you to kill someone, right ?"

The griffin didn't answer, but looked disappointed in themselves.

Azul Ashengrotto

The water wasn't you element, and wasn't Cloudwing's element too.

It's for that you didn't sign Azul contract and decided to do a coup d'etat/overturn.

It was simple, really.

Leona owe you a favor since you saved him from the Overblot, he was indebted.

So you will use the students from his dorm to create chaos in Azul's restaurant, Ruggie will steal the contracts and give them to Leona who will destroy them with his unique spell.

See ? Simple. What could goes wrong ?

You haven't tell anything to Ace, Deuce and Grim because you didn't want them to ruin your plan.

And- oh ? How did you knew you could destroy the contracts ? Well, let just say you had some help for finding that information (if anything, it's between you, Rook, and the trees).

What you didn't plan was the overblot.

Yeah, another one-

"Why ?" You asked to the ocean, while the others were fighting.

Cloudwing had a little more trouble beating Azul's phantom than Ridde's, not being used to fighting underwater.

But, at the end, you win ! But at what cost ?...

"Crowley, you can't be serious."

"I, actually, am-"

"I'm NOT paying or helping for rebuild the restaurant just because Azul offered to give you 25% of their revenue if you let him keeping it."

"But-"

"Cloudwing, chase him."

Jamil Viper

The moment he tried to use his unique magic on you, Cloudwing attacked him.

Jamil managed to cover his face with his arm just in time for Cloudwing's claws to not tear his face apart.

His arm though... The medics said he would be scarred by Cloudwing's claws for life.

It wasn't a good moment.

You didn't go to Scarabia, not after what Cloudwing has done.

But, when you heard that there was another overblot at Scarabia and that the Octavinelle trio was involved.. You just knew you had to help them.

That time again, Cloudwing have tore Jamil's phantom apart, but not before giving Jamil a few swipes with his claws.

Looks like you should apologize for the scars... again.

-

Jamil was confused when you apologized.

He was the one who overblot, tried to manipulate you, put you under his unique magic. The scars were just a price to pay for his mistakes, so why were you apologizing ?

You ignored his confusion, and finished your apology before leaving the infirmary.

-

"Cloudwing , do you think one day I will have a normal month ? Without any overblot ?"

Cloudwing didn't answer, but you didn't need to have one for knowing the answer.

Vil Schoenheit

You've saw some of the movies he plays in, and you find it sad that he never win, even if he play a really smart character.

You and Cloudwing always prefer his characters in movies (that is always the smart villain) rather than the one that play Neige (that is always the dumb, naive hero).

But, it was normal considering the fact you come from a world with a lot of anti-heroes, villains characters with a sad backstory, that win.

"What will happen if I make a movie where Vil, the villain, win against Neige, the hero ?"

Cloudwing think a few seconds before speaking (although you didn't understand what they were saying because you don't speak Griffin (is it even possible to learn it ?)).

So, when you met him, you were really excited.

You said that you love the characters he played and find it sad that he never win, after all, sometimes a good villain deserve to win.

You didn't see the look on his face when you said that. He was surprise that someone thought that the characters he played, the villain, should win over Neige characters, the hero.

-

Having them in Ramshackle wasn't that bad, but you made some rules :

Don't poison the food or water

Don't criticize the dorm, we can't afford to renew it and Crowley would rather lose his wings than pay for the dorm.

Don't insult the ghosts (they are quite susceptible).

Don't left your room after 11pm.

Don't do freeky things (looking at you, Rook).

Some rules can be add with times.

It was all the rules you have place.

When Vil said he wanted to make them go on a diet, you asked him if he was going to seek help from a nutritionist to do it, and if he knew about possible allergies that the others had, to avoid any kind of incident.

The day after, you and the others went to see a nutritionist. It has reveal that Ace had an allergy for cucumbers (it's not canon, I just needed someone to have an allergy).

You and Rook became best stalking friends since Azul by the way. You love stalking people for informations. I just place that here.

Half of the living room of the dorm is always taken by Cloudwing.

One day, all the dorm (even the non-permanent members) rode on the griffin back to class because it was late and you didn't want to be late at class. Since then, you always do that.

-

Vil Overblot wasn't really long compare to Azul's one, but the damage Cloudwing have done...

If Malleus wasn't here for fixing it, you just know Crowley would have ask to Cloudwing (and you, maybe) to leave the NRC. Or he would have complain about it for months. You don't know what is the worst.

Vil, surprisingly, didn't have any scars. He was tired, and not okay, but he didn't have any scars.

But you have lost the VDC, because of the traitor Rook is.

-

"Rook... I didn't know you were like Trey and Cater ! Traitor !"

"We already apologized about it !" -probably Cater.

"I didn't forget !"

And Cloudwing agreed with you on that one.

Idia Shroud

You never saw him before his overblotting.

No need to tell that meeting someone when they are overblotting isn't a good thing.

Especially when he stole your son friend before that.

"Show him no mercy."

Maybe you were a little too much thinking with your emotions when your order that to Cloudwing.

But who could blame you ? You didn't know what he had done to your son Grim, or why he was unconscious.

You were holding Grim tight, listening to his heart beat.

Hewasalive,hewasalive,hewasalive,hewasalivenotlike-

You only realize the overblot was over when Cloudwing put his head on yours, like if they were trying to comfort you.

You take a big breath before looking at where Idia was, the phantom was in a puddle of blot, and Idia was injured- not a lot, but he will have one or two scars.

-

You apologized to Idia for the scars, knowing it was your griffin who made them, before finally leaving Styx with your griffin and Grim, ready to go back home to Ramshackle.

You were surprised that the VDC Team had help you with Ramshakle when Crowley didn't, you were feeling like you should pay them back for that.

"Well, if ever you need something, tell me. I owe you a lot for that."

Malleus Draconia

When you met him, you were curious. And he was too.

And how could you not ? He didn't wanted to say who he was, and he was acting like he is famous.

You started to watch movies at first for knowing if he was an actor or no, and he wasn't.

So you thought he was part of the royalty.

So you search on internet and books who were the actual princes/kings. And you found him, after two months.

(You actually just search "Malleus Draconia" on internet because Leona was so angry about him that it made you curious about who he was).

You never said you knew who he was because, well, nickname privilege. You didn't want to stop calling him Hornton. And you thought you would loose it if you say that you know who he is.

"I always knew who you were, I just didn't tell it because I didn't want to loose my nickname privilege." -Yuu, during book 5.

"You can still call me Hornton, if you want." -Malleus, book 5, not knowing that would lead to Yuu calling him like that in public just for fun or for flying with Cloudwing.

Yes, you two fly on Cloudwing back. Or sometimes Malleus take his dragon form and fly next to Cloudwing. It's canon I'm sorry.

During his overblot, you were sad. You didn't want your night best friend to overblot like that. Even Cloudwing was sad.

"How dare he make Cloudwing sad-" -You in the dream, not knowing how to react to a sad Cloudwing, that was the first time and hopefully the last that they will be sad.

Cloudwing didn't want to fight him, in dream like in reality. They were focusing on his phantom, but it was strong.

It has take hours to finally beat him in real life. And it was exhausting.

-

When Malleus woke up, you, your Griffin, and the ones that helped stopping his overblot, were all with him.

Some apologize were made for always letting him alone, for not inviting him at important thing like the ceremony, and more.

You had all a big hug, and the griffin wings were surrounding you all, shielding from view of others.

Some thoughts about you having a Griffin :

Riddle Rosehearts

He thought the griffin was dangerous. Even after seeing that they were listening to you.

For him, griffins were violent creatures with no morals, something dangerous that shouldn't be approch.

He was scared the first time he saw the Griffin at the un-birthday party. He thought that they would kill him.

Especially after he ask to the pie Ace had made to be throw away.

The only reason he think he's still alive, is because you told your griffin to not do anything.

He only started to think at your griffin differently after his overblot, when he was still injured and in a bed and that your griffin layed their head on his bed, looking at him.

"He want you to that you pet him." You said from the door. "Don't worry, Cloudwing is a good griffin, they won't hurt you."

And, for a moment, nothing happen.

But, carefully, Riddle started to pet them.

And your griffin- Cloudwing, Cloudwing- didn't nothing violent. They were just resting in peace.

And that was new for him. A good new.

Leona Kingscholar

Like Riddle, he thought your griffin was dangerous, and you too.

One day, years ago, he saw a griffin attacked Savanaclaw. He remembers the damages the griffin had done, all the blood-

Seeing your griffin reminded it to him.

He decided to not approach you until he's force to.

And he thought that, even if you had no magic, you were dangerous because only a really dangerous person can have a griffin listening to them.

He told what was happening to his brother, even if he don't like him, he wanted him to know the danger that was at the NRC.

Like Riddle, his opinion change a little after his overblot.

When he saw that neither you or your griffin -Cloudwing, you called them- were doing any arms except during the overblots.

He, one time, even sleep on Cloudwing's back. How ? Well, he was asleep on a tree, and fall on Cloudwing that was passing by. And, for some unknow reasons, he didn't wake up and you decided to stay here, waiting him to wake up normally.

But, even after all that, he was still on his guard around you two, just a little less than before.

Azul Ashengrotto

He knew griffins were dangerous, but inside him, after seeing your griffin listening to you like if he was a dog, he couldn't help but think-

"I want one."

After all, if a no-magic, useless person can have one, why couldn't he ? Imagine how powerful he would be with them...

In the contract, he wanted the griffin in exchange of all the anemones. But you refused, and he wasn't okay about it-

He only calm himself after the overblot, when he saw how close you two were.

Before, he didn't understood your choice. A griffin before your friends and all the students free ? Even Ace and Deuce were shock.

But now, he can see that you two are like half of the other, in a platonic sense. Like if you couldn't live without your griffin, and them without you.

He also understood that he can't have a griffin- too dangerous and he's not enough powerful.

But he's curious about how you got one, thing that is supposed to be impossible.

But you won't answer, keeping it a secret. He will discover it, one day, he swears.

Jamil Viper

Like Leona, thought that you two were dangerous.

Feeling that was accentuate after your griffin attacked him, leaving him scars.

After the overblot, he was still scared of your griffin and you.

He only stopped when there was the VDC and that he had to live with you two.

He change his opinion after he realize that you weren't going to hurt him, and that your griffin was, in fact, pretty chill.

Thought for a moment Cloudwing was just a dog disguised as a griffin, but stop when he saw them beating Vil's phantom ass and destroyed everything around them.

Still think you two are dangerous, but only if people make you mad.

Try to stay on your good side.

Vil Schoenheit

Again, thought you two were dangerous.

But he was really curious about how a griffin of all listen to you.

When you two talk for the first time, he was a little surprised that you were a fan and that you thought that he should won in the movies he plays.

"I don't care if you play a villain, you're characters are smart and deserve to win against a naive person, even if it's a hero. And why can’t villains win sometimes ? It could be cool and interesting, changing the game, the rules."

And he was more surprised when he saw the griffin nod in agreement.

But what shock him the most was when he was at Ramshackle, what do you mean your griffin has their own room ? Accept to have people on their back ? Flying with people on their back ? Being pet ? Aren't griffins dangerous and violent ??

Rethinking he's whole life and all he know about griffins.

You have his respect for having a griffin listening to you. Especially after seeing Idia and Malleus overblot and how Cloudwing fight.

Idia Shroud

Was and is still scared of you and your griffin.

He have seen the cameras of his overblot and saw your griffin beat his phantom like it was nothing and sometimes hurting him.

Man is traumatized.

You can't do anything, he won't go outside if you're outside.

But he was forced by Ortho.

You apologized but even then, that man is scared and won't stop before Malleus overblot, when Cloudwing protect them.

Malleus Draconia

He was curious about you and your griffin.

How a little fragile thing like you had a griffin ? And stop ignoring the question.

"Your name and I tell you how."

He was at that 🤏 to say it for having the answer.

But decided not, he didn't want to loose his only friend.

But does that make two with Cloudwing ?

Love Cloudwing, the two love flying together.

Even after his overblot, he's opinion about them didn't change.

For him, he was a strange griffin, preferring protecting than fighting.

That change of the griffins of here.

Crowley and the NRC

You asked Crowley to let you do a lesson to everyone in the NRC about griffins in your world.

In your world, they were protective creatures, not violent like in their.

You had made 30 lessons in total about your world and how the creatures are in it. There was a comparison made between the creatures of the two worlds and how they acted.

And oh- was it something to learn that Griffins were violent creature here.

[okaysonny]

i saw a guy kissing santa claus! ╎ jake kim

ᯓ★ summary: being santa claus is the biggest big girl job there is.

ᯓ★ details: fluff, established relationship, f! reader, spoiler free.

ᯓ★ wc: 1.8k

ᯓ★ A/N: erm...it'll make more sense as you read. but my second fic! yippee! heard the song while i was shopping and the idea just came to me lol. merry chrithmus <3

divider: @strangergraphics header image: Madokka on pinterest

"you promised you wouldn't laugh!"

jake is laughing anyway. not a quiet chuckle either — full on can’t-catch-his-breath laughter, covering his mouth so you can't see the extent of it. “sorry, sorry. it’s just…i thought you were joking when you told me. you actually went through with it?”

the suit didn’t fit. of course it wouldn't fit. it's designed with a jolly old man in mind, not…you. the coat has you swimming in fabric. the pants were two sizes too big, and the large belt barely cinched your waist. then there was the beard — a fluffy contraption that tickled your chin and smelled faintly of whatever cheap detergent the mall used to sanitise it. definitely a look.

you cross your arms, the red velvet sleeves swishing dramatically. "i was dead serious, jake. but i didn't think i'd actually get it!"

he exhales, trying to compose himself. "i can see that. so…santa claus? really?"

"the one and only!" you tug on the beard's elastic strap in an attempt to make it more comfortable, but it snaps back with a vengeance.

"so, they didn’t think it was weird that you’re…y’know…not an old guy with a beer belly?"

"don't say that! that's not what christmas is about!"

"…what does that even mean?"

“it means…” you plop down next to him and take off the beard. “only a person who truly embodies the joy of christmas could be santa this year. and according to the manager, that’s me" you huff, slightly delighted with yourself.

jake gives you a skeptical look. “you? the joy of christmas?”

"i have loads of christmas joy!" you try your best to look offended. "the manager said enthusiasm is more important than looks. um, or maybe he's just a creep. i dunno. anyway, the pay is fucking amazing, so i didn't question it!"

"right" he nods solemnly. "that’s exactly the kind of logic santa would have"

he earns a smack from the santa beard. "whatever!" your expression shifts into something more sincere. "it just sucks, because i can't see you much for the next few weeks"

“…you don’t want your boyfriend visiting you at work? that's cold” he feigns disappointment.

"are you crazy? of course not! this isn't an office job…it's embarrassing" you take off the hat, tossing it on the table. "and you're a busy guy too! so don't even think about swinging by"

what a bizarre situation. he can't hide his amusement, but still decides to surrender. "okay, okay. i'll stay out of your winter wonderland"

you take his hand and squeeze it apologetically. "thanks, jake. just for a few weeks"

⋆꙳•❅‧₊⋆❆₊⋆

as he descends the elevator in your apartment building, he whips out his phone, a smile tugging on his lips. he picks up instantly.

"jerry?"

"yes, boss?"

"do we have much on the schedule tomorrow?"

"no, boss"

"alright. thanks, jerry"

"you're welcome, boss"

the mall is a bustling snow globe come to life. string lights twinkle like they’re winking at you, and wreaths hang on every surface. oversized ornaments dangle from the ceiling and in the distance, a giant christmas tree is bursting with red, green, and glitter.

the main event is, of course, the santa station. a giant throne surrounded by candy canes and a line of impatient kids. it stretches longer than you expected, and parents are eyeing you like you’re the reason holiday shopping is ruining their lives.

you shuffle in your boots, shifting your itchy red pants for the millionth time. too late to back out now. you plaster on your best smile and remind yourself that the paycheck is worth it. probably.

dressed in an elf costume, reluctantly it seems, a colleague sighs, casting a weary glance at the children. he unhooks the red rope. “alright folks, one at a time, please. santas ready for you” he muttered, as he waved them through.

"hohoho! merry christmas everyone! santas caught a cold this year, so he may sound a little different!" it's the best santa voice you can manage. alright kids, do your worst.

the first boy bounces onto your lap. “what do you want for christmas, kiddo?” “a new gaming console, please! the one with the ultra HD graphics!” he says, eyes sparkling with excitement. you nod wisely, stroking your beard. “a solid choice. santa’s got your back — unless the elves get stuck in a multiplayer match.” "r-really? tell them to hurry!”

the next child hesitates before climbing up, clutching a sparkly notebook. “and you? what’s your christmas wish?” “i want an electric guitar!” she says confidently. “and lessons, so i can be a rock star!” “love it” you tip your hat. “we’ll have you practicing in no time. don’t forget to thank your parents.” she grins. “i won’t!”

one kid runs up, practically throwing himself onto you. “what can santa do for you?” you ask, smiling. “i want daddy to come home again!” you blink. oh boy. “that’s…a really nice wish!” you say, patting his shoulder. “i’ll do my best!”

his mom hurries over, her face beet red. “timmy! what did i say about that?”

“but santa can fix it!” he insists, beaming up at you. you wave weakly as she drags him off, muttering “we’ll talk about this later.”

there's only so many hohoho's you can manage before you start to tire. but every now and then, a child would hug you so sincerely that you felt like you were truly santa claus. motivation to keep you going.

until finally. "okay kids, that's all the time santa has for today! he'll be here at the same time tomorrow!" a line of children start crying. your elf-dressed colleague hooks the rope back again, before hastily walking off.

could you manage this for the next few weeks? you slump back on the throne in contemplation before something catches your eye. blue tracksuit. you sit up suddenly, eyes scanning the crowd to see if you're right.

sure enough, there he was. with that stupid lop-sided grin. jake just stands there, arms crossed, looking like he’s about to start laughing any second. you glare at him, but he doesn’t flinch. if anything, his grin widens.

whatever. you try to play it cool, leaning back into the throne. just ignore him you tell yourself. he’ll get bored and leave.

but then he does the unthinkable. he raises his hand and waves - big, dramatic, and impossible to miss. a kid tugs on his dad’s sleeve. “is that santa’s friend?”

“oh, look at that! santa needs to check the naughty list real quick!” you push yourself off the chair with a forced chuckle as you scurry away. your attempt at casual speed walking is anything but that, and the kids confirm it for you. one kid pipes up. “santa walks really fast!” another adds “he looks kinda mad”

"hohoho! what’s this? a surprise visitor from the north pole?" you say, speeding up until you’re right in front of him. you jab a finger at his chest. "did those silly elves send you here early? they’re always causing mischief!"

"yeah, they’re the worst. real troublemakers" jake peers at you in all your bearded glory, as he stifles a laugh. "you should see what they did to my uh…sleigh"

"unbelievable!" you boom, grabbing him by the arm and guiding him away. "let’s take this up with mrs. claus, shall we?" the parents watch the two of you with furrowed brows, and you hear one whisper “did santa just kidnap that guy?”

you practically shove him into the break room, your cheeks burning under the beard. "what the hell jake?! i told you not to come! don't you have a street to look after?"

he waves a hand dismissively. "they can manage without me for a few hours. jerry has everything under control. are you saying you don't trust jerry?"

"what? no! but i told you not to come! it's humiliating if you see me like this!" you splutter.

jake shrugs. "i've seen worse. remember the time lineman tried to wear a tie? he looked like he was being choked out."

you blink, caught off guard. "that's not the same thing!"

"sure it is" he says, leaning against the wall. "besides, you’re bringing joy to the children of the world!"

your eyes narrow. "jake, be serious."

"i am!" he protests, gesturing to your outfit. "i mean sure, the beard’s a little…fluffy, but it suits you. adds character."

you tug self-consciously at the itchy material. "i swear-"

"hey…" he cuts you off, his voice softer now. "i’m just here to keep you company. nothing humiliating about that. you really want me to go?"

"of course not, it's just…" you frown. "i feel like i'm not doing a good job at this. i dunno"

jake gently takes your hand, pulling you towards him. "you’re doing fine. trust me. the kids love it. you’re the best santa they’ll get this year."

"but i don't even look like santa…" you mumble.

he smiles, adjusting your hat into place. “so what? they can't even tell. you're just that good”

“oh” you grin sheepishly. “really?”

“yes, really” he laughs. you love his laugh.

“so stop worrying. speaking of which...” he leans in just slightly, his voice dropping to a murmur. “santa, can i get an early christmas gift?”

you scrunch your nose in disgust. “jake. that's so corny”

still, the pink on your cheeks betray you. for once, you were grateful for the beard.

“yeah” he admits, gazing at you with adoration, santa suit and all. “but you like it.”

you roll your eyes as he leans in to kiss you. the beard tickles your chin, and you’re pretty sure it tickles his too, judging by the way he pauses and laughs against your lips. it's soft and sweet. practically magical.

well. it would have been magical, if not for the tiny squeak that echoes in your ear.

“mommy, look!” a little voice shouts. “who’s that guy? why is he kissing santa?”

you both dart your heads, panic setting in as you see a little boy pointing at the two of you. the door you forgot to close fully creaks a bit wider as his mother tugs him away.

“hush! don't point! it's rude! let’s not interrupt santa while she’s — i mean, he’s, uh…working!” she says quickly, shooting you and jake an apologetic smile before hurrying off.

you stare after them in mortification before glancing back to him. “i can't believe it. did i just traumatise a child?”

jake just bursts into laughter, shaking his head. “i can. never mind, you’re seriously the worst santa ever”

“yeah? maybe next time you can wear the beard” you shoot back, smoothing out any creases in the suit.

“deal” his smile grows wider as he drapes an arm over your shoulder. “but don’t blame me when the north pole gets a new leader after i outshine you”

you can’t help your own smile from forming. “merry christmas to you too”

A/N: typing 'mall' pained me deeply, but it seemed like the best choice of words. i am not american (-.-)

[thebookworm0001]

Spoilers for the end of veilguard and specifically how solas’s story is handled under the cut

And seriously I do mean the very end of the game and I’m gonna talk about stuff that happened before then too

You have been warned

I felt satisfied with the ending.

I was able to collect all the solas memories/regret murals and very much felt like the way the ending unlocked by that was handled well.

Solas has always been a man bound by his regrets. And this game spent a lot of time establishing is primary regret is Mythal. Yes, he cares deeply about helping people and wants that world restored, but it’s less to do with the elven people and more to do with him feeling like he’s made mistake after mistake.

He’s been living in a sunk-cost fallacy for millennia and cannot see a way out. He really, really doesn’t want to do this - he knows how many people he’ll hurt to do it, but can’t see another way because if he stops now he feels like it’ll be just another betrayal of mythal when he’s already betrayed and failed her so many times. She’s the reason any of this happened.

That’s why it has to be mythal telling him to stop. He wanted to stop for a romanced lavellan - his letter says that explicitly. But he regrets mythal’s death (and his resulting actions) so much he just. Can’t let it go. What does his life mean if he can’t fulfill the wishes of the goddess that called him to service, to a body? The friend he murdered, in the end, to make up for the first time she as killed.

He was a spirit of wisdom mythal corrupted - it’s another version of Cole and the Templar who killed the human Cole. That confrontation has to happen for him to move in any direction.

And the way he absolutely crumples when he sees her? Damn if that didn’t sell me on how deeply he cares for her, beyond the murals that show how ashamed he is of what he did with and for her.

He’s always needed someone to tell him there was another way, but nobody besides mythal could absolve him of the actions he took, because they aren’t her. It’s not a matter of the nature of their relationship, rather that he cannot untie himself from the way his spirit was warped by her and the actions he took in response to her.

Idk I know people will have very different feelings and opinions on how that went down, but it made sense to me.

And my solas-romanced lavellan acted exactly how I expected her to. Granted, Ellana is the kind of lavellan who would immediately forgive him and would, no questions asked, go with him on his journey to atone. I had a whole fic planned out where she did that exact thing - even if the details weren’t what happened here.

If you have a lavellan who isn’t as sad as mine and who wouldn’t join him, yeah this ending may not work for you. But I went from being pissed at him for trapping my rook and lying about killing varric to immediately being back on my ‘fuck you’re just a deeply sad and broken man please let yourself be happy’ lament when he talked about how he failed both the world and mythal in different moments.

It worked for me. I’m satisfied by how it was handled and think the ending makes sense for the read on Solas I’ve had for the last several years. He’s just a deeply sad man who thinks he has to make up for his failures - and the one person he’s failed more than anyone tells him it’s not on him. She’s the one person he could never get forgiveness from - and he got it. And that’s why it had to be her.