#8 drop dead gorgeous man

[jaysguitar]

Made the worst gifs ever atp I think

[holdinggrudges]

what's my flavor?

pairing: sam winchester x reader

content: EXPLICIT 18+, oral (fem!receiving), vampire!sam, blood drinking, bloodplay (surprisingly little though tbh), fem!reader (afab anatomy + the word girl used in reference like three times or so), feeding being explicitly referred to as similar to drugs/getting high, mentions of serious illness (made up for plot reasons but still)

word count: 10.5K

summary: Working your way through college, you find a secretary job with great pay and more than enough downtime on the clock to get your coursework done. The only downside is that it leaves you with no choice but to attend night classes. But it's not so bad, especially with Mysterious Hot Guy attending them as well. Oh, and there's been blood bags going missing, but you're pretty sure that's not going to be relevant to your life any time soon.

notes: this was supposed to be pwp. it was also supposed to be posted on halloween. clearly, neither of those things happened. but fuck it, we ball.

crossposted on ao3

You don’t understand how anyone could get through college without a job. You hear about people surviving off scholarships all the time, and you try your first year, you really do. But, God, something has to change. You can’t imagine working your way through school could be any more stressful than the budgeting, and the skipping meals, and the cards declining at the grocery store. 

So you get a job. A good one, too; a secretary job at an office ten minutes away from your apartment, and only twenty minutes away from campus. The job is easy, with plenty of downtime for you to work on your coursework, and the pay is good. Better than good, even. The only problem is the hours; 9-5 is great, generally, but not very convenient when setting up a college schedule. You’re relegated almost exclusively to night classes. Which is fine. Not ideal, but fine. 

You take four classes, two a night, and it leaves your Fridays wide open after work. It would truly be a perfect schedule if it didn’t mean you were on campus until 11 o’clock most nights. But the classes are relatively empty and none of your professors are total hardasses, so it’s not so bad. Actually, you start to really enjoy it. 

You make a little game out of studying the other students, trying to figure them out. The woman who sits in front of you in your statistics class is a stay-at-home mom, you think. The older man a few rows down in english is retired military. It’s interesting, and it gives you a reason to actually make it to class everyday. Well, that and Mysterious Hot Guy. 

Mysterious Hot Guy (or MHG, for short) is in two of your classes: your 6 o’clock political science class on Mondays and Wednesdays sitting a row down from you, and sitting beside you in your 8:30 biology class on Tuesdays and Thursdays. He first caught your eye because, frankly, he looks more like he should be on a movie set than night classes at a dinky community college. He’s drop dead gorgeous, and that’s putting it lightly. Even so, that’s not what has you so intrigued. Something about him is off somehow, strange in such a way that it has you completely captivated. Alluring in a way you can’t quite put your finger on, even outside his appearance. 

MHG hardly ever speaks. You’re pretty sure he’s only said one word to you the entire four weeks of the semester so far, and he sits literally a foot away from you every other day. He’s also, apparently, a genius. He never takes notes, never writes a single thing down, he never asks questions and never answers them either, for that matter. Still, you happened to catch a glimpse of his grade on the test your biology professor handed back last week, and he got a perfect score. 

He also doesn’t have a car. Or, rather, he doesn’t have a car of his own. Every Tuesday and Thursday as you’re walking back to your own car at almost 11 PM, he’s climbing into the passenger seat of an absolutely gorgeous vintage Chevrolet Impala that makes you simultaneously green with envy and desperate for him to push you up against the side of it. Or push you down against the backseat. Or the front seat, which you find out is a bench seat after some minor googling. Car like that, you’re not exactly gonna be picky about where. 

Still, even after all your observing, you don’t learn a single useful piece of information about MHG until six weeks into the semester—two weeks out from midterms—when your biology professor announces that you will be choosing your partners for the midterm project. You barely even let the words leave his mouth before you’re turning to your right, pouncing with what you hope is a normal amount of enthusiasm, although you’re so damn intrigued by this guy that all you can do is pray you don’t come across as a total stalker. “Hey. Would you wanna partner up?” 

MHG turns to you, his eyes wide in a way that leaves you a lot less hopeful about how normal your greeting was. “Uh. Me?” he asks, and his voice is…warm in a way you weren’t expecting. He could do audiobooks, or a podcast, or something—he has a nice voice is what you’re getting at.

You laugh. You’re almost a little starstruck—it makes sense; you’ve definitely turned this guy into your own personal celebrity. “Who else?” you respond, holding out your hand for him to shake. “I’m ____.” 

He eyes you for a moment before he clasps your hand and gives it a shake. Jesus, this guy must have anemia or something because his hand is fucking freezing. “Sam. Uh, Winchester. Sam Winchester.” His touch lingers for a moment before he tugs his hand back. “And…yeah. Yeah, we can…partner up.” 

Sam Winchester. Finally, a name to put to the face. No more thinking of him as Mysterious Hot Guy for you; you and MHG are on a first name basis now. “Awesome,” you say softly, and you really, desperately hope your smile looks less manic than it feels. “So. Sam. Would you mind giving me your number or something so we can set up a time and place to meet up?” 

He hesitates, but he does scribble a number down on the corner of his empty notebook page. “I, uh. I can’t do…daytime,” he tells you as he slides it over. 

Okay. Weird way to phrase that, but you assume he’s like you, he works during the day or something. So you shrug and take the proffered paper. “Me neither. I have work.” You pinch it between your fingers with a grin. “We’ll make it work.” 

He smiles at you, a shy sort of thing that makes your chest ache to draw out more. “Yeah. Okay.” 

You plug the number in your phone almost as soon as you get home, but it takes you almost an hour to actually text him. You go through probably a hundred different drafts before you finally land on: ‘hey!! it’s ____. does friday work for you? my only day without classes lol’ 

Once you press send, you figure you’ll probably have at least five minutes to freak out and overthink. Sam doesn’t really seem the type to be glued to his phone. Which is why, you suppose, that you nearly have a heart attack when your phone buzzes with a response no more than 30 seconds later. ‘Friday works. 7 at the library?’ 

‘see you then :)’ You debate over the smiley face for a solid minute and a half before finally sending it and then violently throwing your phone across the couch and screaming into your throw pillow. 

When you do finally work up the courage to pick your phone up again, he’s sent two texts back. ‘See you then.’ And then another one, a small bubble containing two characters: ‘:)’ Embarrassingly, you giggle alone in your living room. Oh, this guy is going to be the death of you. 

You spend the rest of the night googling Sam Winchester and coming up with absolutely nothing. He seems to have absolutely no social media presence at all, not even an old MySpace or a private Facebook account. The only reference you can find to his name at all has it listed as one of two sons of some random serial killer from, like, the 1800s, which is obviously useless. 

You give up your fruitless search with a sigh, closing your laptop and shoving it aside. Your tv is playing on some local news station—doesn’t matter which one, they’ve all been reporting the same story for weeks. You click it off, 100% disinterested in hearing about the blood bags going missing from local clinics for the millionth time this month. 

You go to bed and dream of brown hair and eyes that you just can’t quite place the color of, but you can swear you see them flash red.

Friday finds you at the library almost a full hour early. You’d agonized over your outfit all day yesterday, and for another half an hour after work to boot. In the end, you’d decided to go casual. After all, it is just a study date—and actually, not a date at all! A study meet-up. A study hangout, at best. The fact that you did your make-up and your hair for it is entirely irrelevant. 

It’s 6:45 when a cough draws your attention up from your phone. Sam is standing in front of you with another one of those shy smiles, and two coffee cups in his hands. Coffee cups from your favorite cafe. He shoves one in your direction. “Uh. I’ve noticed that you have drinks from here pretty often. And- I hope you don’t mind, but I…I read one of the cups? So. This is for you.” 

Your eyes flick over him, your heartbeat practically pounding out of your chest. So he’s been watching you too. Or—Jesus, not watching, that makes it sound creepy. Observing is a better word for it. He noticed a pattern in your coffee cups. He read one to find out what it was you were drinking. “Thanks,” you tell him, taking the cup from his hand. Turning it to read the writing, you find he’d gotten it right. Maybe you should find it creepy, actually. As it is, you’re sort of having a hard time not swooning. You beam at him. “I’ll…have to return the favor.” 

For some reason, that makes Sam laugh as he sits down across from you. “Sure.” He opens his backpack and takes out his laptop. “So, this project.” 

Sam, as it turns out, is a genius. Or at least exceptionally smart. A project that would’ve taken you hours on your own is done in record time with him, which leaves the two of you there at 7:30 with a fully completed midterm project and half-empty coffee cups. You don’t want to leave, and it seems Sam doesn’t either, as he closes his laptop and asks, “Why are you taking night classes?” like he’s really, genuinely curious. 

So you tell him. You tell him about trying to get through college on your own, deciding you needed a full time job, how it’s probably the best job you’ve ever had. You ask him the same question, and he tells you about his brother, who is, apparently, the one who drives that fucking awesome car. He drops Sam off at classes, and pretty much anywhere else he needs to go.

The two of you chat for an hour and a half before Sam gets a text that says his brother is literally going to leave him there if he doesn’t shag ass and get in the car pronto. So Sam walks you out of the library. 

“You know,” you blurt out before you can lose your nerve, “I feel like our classes would be a lot easier if we put our heads together like this. You know, regularly. Like, every Friday, maybe.” 

He ducks his head, smiling that same shy smile he’d had when he gave you the coffee. “Sure. Every Friday. Sounds…helpful.” 

You don’t realize until you get home that he never actually told you why he takes night classes. It turns out to be a pattern for him, as the two of you meet up week after week. You simultaneously feel like you know everything and nothing about him, and every week you like him more and more for it. Well, for that and the coffee that he gets you every time. 

It takes a week before he moves seats in your political science class. The Monday after the second Friday you meet up with him, you almost sit in the wrong seat because you’re so used to him sitting two rows ahead of you. Of course, when you realize what’s happened, Sam’s staring at you with an amused grin on his face, like he’s trying really hard not to laugh at you. So, you decide, you are friends, at least. And as far as friends go, Sam’s a pretty good one.

You and Sam text, constantly. Despite seeming relatively unplugged, he responds to you instantly almost every time. You hate to get your hopes up, but by the time finals roll around, you’re starting to really like him. You’re starting to think he really likes you too. 

He finishes his biology final on the last Thursday of classes long before you, but when you leave the classroom, you see him leaning against the wall, waiting. Again, you don’t want to get your hopes up, but when he lifts his head and sees you approaching him, you swear to God, you see his whole face light up.  He looks a little pale, maybe. But it also might just be the fluorescent lights of the hallway.

“How do you think you did?” he asks, falling into step beside you.

And, you think, it’s now or never, now, isn’t it? Classes are over. You may never see Sam again (although, you like to think the two of you are close enough now that you would at least remain friends outside of having classes together, but still, the sentiment remains). So you change the subject and ask, “Would you wanna get dinner with me on Saturday?” 

He pauses, freezes in place pretty much, and you stop to match him. “Dinner, like…dinner?” he asks, as if that question makes any sense. 

You laugh, a little awkward, and adjust your backpack straps. “Uh, yeah. Like, dinner.” You don’t want to explicitly mention it being a date. You feel like he likes you, you really do, but if you’re wrong…that rejection is going to sting. So you don’t say it, not explicitly. 

But still, Sam’s face lights up with a grin. “Yeah. I’d…really love to get dinner with you, actually. I’ll have to—I’ll text you. But…yes, yeah. I’d love to.” 

You’re pretty sure the smile on your face matches his. “Okay. Then, I’ll see you on Saturday. And you’ll text me.” 

“I’ll text you,” he agrees. 

The two of you linger for a moment before parting, and you have never been more excited to say goodbye to someone in your entire fucking life. 

When you get home, you have a text message. ‘I’ll pick you up. Does 7 work for you?’

You have to take a moment to squeal into your pillow before answering that yes, 7 does work for you, and you’re excited to see him then. And then, as an afterthought, your address.

God, you need to find something to wear.

Saturday comes around, and you’re fully ready by 6. Sam’s almost always shown up early, after all. Your TV plays news footage, stating that the clinics have taken to putting up extra security around their blood banks to no avail. You couldn’t care less, too giddy and girlishly excited to even think about the stolen blood bags. 

6:45 rolls around. Sam isn’t there. That’s…fine. He’s not obligated to show up early. You set up a time to pick you up for a reason, right? There’s no reason for the sinking feeling in your gut. 

7:00. No sign of Sam. But that’s no reason to worry. Maybe he got stuck in traffic. People are late sometimes, and you don’t need to panic just because Sam’s never been late before. 

At 7:30, you shoot Sam a text. ‘are you okay? don’t tell me you forgot about me :( lol’ You don’t get a response. 

You don’t change back into lounge clothes until 8, and you don’t take off your makeup until 8:30, and that’s only because you’re pretty sure you’re about to start crying and ruin it anyway. 

The real kicker is that you thought Sam, at the very least, considered you a friend. Or at least friendly enough to let you down easy rather than agree to a date and then stand you up. Clearly, you severely misread the entire situation. You entirely misunderstood Sam in general, if he’s really the type of person to do this sort of thing. 

Wiping hot tears off your face, you cork open your expensive bottle of wine. Desperate times, right?

Two hours and half a wine bottle later, you’ve swung from devastated to angry. How dare he stand you up? You’re a catch! You’re gorgeous, you’re funny, you’ve ignored all of his weird quirks and red flags, and for what? To cry into a glass or five of overpriced wine on a Saturday night? Screw that. You should call him and give him a piece of your mind.

Or…no, you’re pretty drunk, actually, so you probably shouldn’t call him. But you could text him. Yeah. You fumble for your phone, furiously typing out a text and hitting send without a second thought. ‘if u werent interested in me u cldve just said so. didnt have 2 ghost me’ 

Next thing you know, you’re opening your eyes the next morning with a killer headache, a damn near empty bottle of wine, and no response from Sam. While you’re curled over the toilet, the alcohol isn’t the only thing turning your stomach. There’s a worry brewing there too. 

Because the more you think about it, the more that this really just doesn’t feel like Sam. Now that you’re further out from it, you can acknowledge that much. When you ask yourself if you truly believe that the guy who bought you your favorite drink every time you met up, the guy who remembered every single thing you ever told him, the guy whose face totally lit up when you asked him to dinner—when you ask yourself if that guy would stand you up, you truly, honestly don’t believe he would. So the real question is: why did he?

You fight through the worry until about halfway through your shift on Monday when you realize that with finals over, you have absolutely no idea when, or even if you’ll see Sam again. You call him. It rings all the way through until you get his voicemail, and you wish the sound of his voice could calm you, but it only reminds you that he’s not answering. You don’t leave a message, sending him a text instead. ‘seriously, are you okay? please at least let me know you’re not dead.’ You’re not surprised to find you haven’t gotten a response the next time you check your phone, walking to your car at the end of the day. Desperately, heart-clenchingly worried, but not surprised. 

You open your laptop the second you get home, furiously searching anything you can think of. You search for his name again, hoping to find anything that could point you towards family or friends, to the brother he mentioned. You search local obituaries, John Does, anyone who might even bear the slightest resemblance to Sam, but there’s nothing. Nothing, until you accidentally click on one of the articles about the blood theft. There, in a blurry screenshot of footage from the new security cameras one of the blood banks had installed, you see it. You recognize his brother’s gorgeous fucking car. 

Your eyes go wide. Holy shit, you’ve been flirting with a criminal. You scroll up through the article, reading furiously, but it doesn’t even mention the car, focusing instead on the blurry, shrouded figure entering the doors. Is this why Sam went missing? Laying low until he can be sure no one will connect the footage of the car to him or his brother? Why the fuck is he stealing blood bags in the first place? Needless to say, the discovery leaves you with more questions than it does answers. 

The world, unfortunately, does not stop with this revelation. You go to bed. You get up, you go to work, you come home. You think about Sam. You have no idea what you’re supposed to do in this situation. Should you go to the police? It’s not like he’s killing people but…it’s still illegal to steal blood bags. Also morally wrong, probably. Plus, you now have information that could help forward an ongoing police investigation. You’re not entirely sure what counts as aiding and abetting, but you’re not exactly itching to find out where the line is. 

On the other hand, Sam never seemed particularly…criminal-like to you. Strange, sure, but he was nice. Kind, even. You never in a million years would’ve pegged him as some sort of criminal mastermind. That’s got to count for something. Right? At the very least, you think it allows him the benefit of the doubt. So…late Tuesday night, you send him another text, the last one you’ll ever send him. Probably. ‘hey so keep ignoring me if im wrong but are you the one stealing blood from the clinics?’ 

He doesn’t text you back, and you pretend that means you’re wrong. That you can clear your conscience and go to sleep. That you can go to work and stop worrying about vintage cars in blurry security footage. 

Then the sun goes down on Wednesday, and someone knocks on your door. 

The man on the other side of it is unfamiliar to you. He’s wearing a leather jacket, an amulet hanging off his neck. There’s absolutely no reason you should recognize him as quickly as you do. Except that he has this quality about him, something unreal or maybe inhuman, and you’ve seen it before. You can’t quite tell what color his eyes are.

He smiles at you, and confirms it. “You’re ____, right? Sam’s told me all about you.” This is Sam’s brother, the one with the car. The car that you recognized in the blood bank footage. “I’m Dean. Can I come in?” 

You keep your hand on the edge of the door, ready to slam it in his face if need be. “How’d you get my address?” you ask, instead of answering the question. This man could be dangerous. You trust Sam, mostly, but his brother…that’s a different story.

“Sammy had it. Remember? For your little date.” Dean says, taking a step towards the threshold. You take a step back. “Can I come in now?” 

You ignore the fear raging down your spine, the urge to turn tail and run away. Sam carries himself differently than Dean, presents himself in such a way that instead of cowering away from him, you want to keep looking. His strangeness is intriguing, not off-putting. Dean, though, he takes those same qualities and twists them on their head. Dean looks at you, and your entire body screams Danger! Like he’s some sort of predator. “Why are you here?” 

“Look, I don’t have time for this,” he snaps. He takes another step forward, but stays notably on the other side of the door. Just barely. “Sam needs help. Are you gonna invite me in, or not?” 

He could be lying. He could be manipulating the affection you already have for his brother to get you to let him in so he can off you, maybe the only person who’s connected him to his crimes. But, if that was the case, why wouldn’t he have just forced his way in? And also, why the fuck would he go that far just to cover up some stolen blood bags? “What’s wrong with Sam?” you ask, stepping back from the door to allow him inside. When in Rome, right?

His lips press together, like he’s irritated, though you can’t imagine why. You’re letting him in, which is what he wanted. He stares at you for a moment before sighing, world weary, like he’s holding the weight of a hundred lifetimes of idiocy on his shoulders. Jesus, this guy’s dramatic. “You have to invite me,” he grits out. 

Your confusion only grows, but you oblige anyway. “Okay…come in, then.” 

Dean steps into the apartment almost as soon as you’ve said it, like you’ve only just now opened the door. You back up a few steps further. 

“Just so you know,” you say, standing up taller and trying to act less terrified than you feel, “I have a gun. So don’t- don’t try anything ‘cause I’ll shoot you.” You’re completely bluffing, of course, but there’s no way Dean could know that. 

“No, you don’t,” Dean says, like he definitely knows you were bluffing. Well, great. “Besides, I’m not here to hurt you. My brother needs help, you think I’m gonna kill the only person who can help him?” 

He doesn’t look like he’s lying. Then again, you’re pretty sure this man is a criminal, so maybe he’s just a really good liar. “Yeah, you said that before. If he needs my help so bad, why didn’t he just tell me himself?” It’s not like you slammed the door in Sam’s face and told him to leave you alone. You’ve sent him four texts and a phone call since he dropped off the face of the earth last week. He’s had every opportunity to ask for your help. 

“Cause he’s sick,” Dean tells you. He lifts his hands before he approaches you, like you’re some sort of wild animal that he doesn’t want to spook. Embarrassingly, it works. “Really sick.” 

You shake your head, bemused. “I don’t understand—what does that have to do with me? If he’s sick, he needs a doctor. Not…a random college student.” 

Dean nods. “Yeah, he would. But he’s got…it’s complicated.” He pauses in his approach and nods his head toward you. “Can I come closer, or are you gonna shoot me, tough girl?” 

You roll your eyes, but gesture him closer. “Be my guest, so long as it means you’re gonna tell me something that actually makes sense.” You’re tired of the riddles, frankly. If he doesn’t give you real answers soon, you don’t care how terrifying he is, you’re gonna have to do something drastic.

Dean scoffs. “Yeah, I can see why Sam likes you,” he mutters, shaking his head. “See, me and Sam…we’re not exactly normal. If I took him to a doctor, not only would they not be able to fix him, they’d probably kill him.” He stops beside you, forcing you to look up at him as he speaks. He cuts an intimidating figure, even without the air of a predator about him. You really, really wish you actually owned a gun.

“What do you mean by that?” you ask, voice quiet in the face of this hunter. “That you’re not normal?” 

He grins, big and sharp and toothy. And then his illusion drops. Your eyes seem to fail you, like someone’s dropped the floor out from under you and then told you the floor was never real in the first place. His eyes catch your attention first, blood red and striking. And then, of course, you see his teeth—no, his fangs. Two long, sharp, killer fangs where his canines used to be. “Welcome to the night of the living dead, sweetheart.”

Vampires are real. There’s a monster in your fucking living room. This is crazy. You should be screaming. You should shove this man out the door and lock it behind him and maybe never leave your apartment again. Instead, you blurt out, “So that’s why you were stealing blood bags.” Honestly, a lot of things are starting to make way more sense now. You’re almost embarrassed you didn’t think of it before. 

Dean laughs. “Right on the money.” You flinch as he claps you on the shoulder, and he laughs at you again. 

“So…I’m guessing Sam doesn’t just have a regular old stomach bug, then?” You really feel like you should be having a more extreme reaction to this situation. You just found out that not only are vampires real, but you’ve been actively flirting with one. You think maybe you’re in shock. “This is some sort of weird…vampire virus, or something?” 

“Smart girl,” he says, pointing at you approvingly. “Though it’s not exactly a virus, more like…food poisoning. Actually, we call it blood poisoning. Comes from drinking stale blood—bagged blood, for example—rather than fresh from the source.” 

You frown. “Why drink bagged blood, then, if it makes you sick?” 

“Why do people go vegan even though they need protein?” Dean counters. “Harm reduction. Plus, it doesn’t always make us sick. It’s pretty rare, actually. More common now than, you know, the olden times, but it happened back then too. Storing blood in vials, bottles, anything can make blood go stale, but it means you don’t have to hurt as many people getting it. Some things are worth the risk.” 

That much, at least, you can understand. “So this…this stale blood, whatever—it makes you sick,” you repeat, that same worry for Sam from before roiling in your stomach again. “How sick?” 

Dean grimaces, so whatever it is is clearly not good news. “It can kill us. Pretty easily, too. I have to tell you, I don’t know exactly how it works. Sam’s way better at this sort of thing.” He taps his fingers against your coffee table. “But I do know how to fix it.” 

It’s pretty easy to guess. Dean’s here, despite the fact his brother is apparently dying, and there’s really only one thing you have that they don’t. “He needs blood,” you say quietly, beating Dean to the punch. “Fresh blood.” 

He nods and shoots you a stilted smile. “Quick on the draw, huh?” The two of you stare at each other for a moment before he sighs, shaking his head. “Sam hates what he is. Doesn’t matter that he’ll die without it, he won’t hurt anyone. He just won’t.”

You cross your arms over your chest, suddenly uncomfortable with Dean’s intense stare, like he can see straight into your soul. “So- so, what am I supposed to do about it?” you ask, your shoulders shrugging helplessly. “I’m still a person. I can’t force him to do something he doesn’t want to do.” 

Dean takes a step toward you, and this time you don’t step back or shrink away. He’s dangerous, sure, but not to you. Not as long as you’re the only thing standing between his brother and certain death. “Look, Sam really likes you. If he knew I was here right now, and he wasn’t on his deathbed, he’d kill me. But I just—I’ve tried. It’s been a week, and I’ve tried so hard—” He ducks his head as he cuts off, his jaw working over clenched teeth. “I know that you care about him, right? I mean, I saw the texts; I know—I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t desperate. I can’t just sit around and watch my little brother die. I had to try. I have to try.” 

Seeing him now, you almost can’t believe you were afraid of him. He looks almost terrified himself. And despite the uncertainty you feel, the fear, well…there’s a clear answer here. Yes, there’s a chance Sam refuses to feed from you, but there’s also a chance to save him. You can’t just stand back and let him die because you’re scared. “Okay.”

Dean’s eyes snap to yours again. They sparkle with hope, and even though the illusion is dropped, even though his eyes are red and his teeth are viciously sharp, for the first time since you first saw him, he looks human. “Okay?” 

“Take me to him,” you tell him, moving past him to grab your coat off the hanger by your door. “Let me try to save him.” 

Dean gives you the key to the apartment and a wish good luck, but stays in the car (which, yes, is just as nice as you imagined, though you wish you’d gotten to experience it under different circumstances). He tells you as you climb out the passenger door, “If this goes the way I hope it does, you two aren’t gonna want me there. Trust me.” 

Apprehension keeps you rooted outside the locked door, biting a hole through your bottom lip. There’s a lot of ways this could go. Quite a few of them could end up with you dead, and you’d be a fool not to acknowledge that. Then again, you’d also be a fool not to acknowledge what you know about Sam, what Dean’s told you about him today. Kind, gentle Sam, who is sick and dying, but apparently still refuses to hurt anyone. Who drinks from blood bags, despite the risk, simply because it means he can live without harming others. He doesn’t deserve to die.

You take a deep breath, and unlock the door. 

The apartment is…Well, it’s a little dingy, but it’s cozy. Homey. There’s clutter and trinkets on every shelf, books that look so old that you fear they’d disintegrate if you touched them. It occurs to you, then, that you don’t know how old Sam actually is. A memory flashes in your mind of his name mentioned in records from the 1800s. Holy shit. 

“Dean?” You recognize Sam’s voice, but it’s thin and croaky. Weak. Really sick, Dean had said. “Are you home?” 

  You follow the sound of his voice into a bedroom, and the stale smell of illness almost makes you stumble back from the doorway. It doesn’t smell bad, necessarily, so much as still and wrong. Sam’s been in this room, wallowing in sickness, for a week. Your heart aches for him. “Not Dean,” you say quietly, hoping not to spook him. You approach the bed, and only just keep from gasping at the state of the man curled up in it. Sam is pale and sunken, visibly weak and malnourished. He’s trembling, shaking all over with chills, maybe, or just tremors in general. 

His face changes when he hears your voice, his brows furrowed in confusion. He opens his eyes and peers up at you over his cocoon of blankets. His eyes, like Dean’s, are red, but unlike Dean’s, they’re glassy and tired, his eyelids fluttering like he’s struggling to keep them open. “____? What…what’re you doing here?” He pushes himself up to sit, and you can see the effort it takes him to do even that, his arms shaking under his own weight. 

You sit gingerly on the edge of the bed beside him. “Dean sent me,” you tell him, ratting Dean out immediately. 

Sam groans, rubbing his hands over his eyes. The veins in his hands are standing out, ugly, mottled red under pale skin. As if the blood really had poisoned him. “I’m gonna kill him.” Wow, Dean hadn’t even exaggerated, huh?

“Not like this, you’re not,” you mutter, reaching out to take his hand in yours. “Jesus, Sam…” He’s ice cold to the touch like he’s been out in the snow for hours. You curl your hands around his, trying to warm him. 

His gaze flicks to them, your hands barely covering his. “Sorry I missed our date,” he says, mournful like he really is repentant, like standing you up is the worst sin he could’ve possibly committed. “It…was a date, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it—I meant for it to be.” You huff out a laugh, sympathetic as you smile at him. “And, you know, somehow I can’t find it in myself to hold it against you.” 

Sam laughs, and for the first time, you catch a glimpse of his fangs. They’re just as viciously sharp as Dean’s, but they somehow look less dangerous on Sam. You’d worry you’d been charmed or something (isn’t that supposed to be something vampires can do? You have to admit, you’re a little out of the loop of vampire lore), if you weren’t certain that Sam would never do something like that. No, not charmed, not in any sort of magical sense. “I’ll die happy then.” 

Wow, you see the dramatics run in the family. “You’re not going to die,” you say firmly, releasing Sam’s hand to brush his bangs out of his face. He’s freezing all over. It makes you want to wrap him up in your arms, make sure he never goes cold again. You settle for pressing your palm against his cheek, your fingers cupping around his jaw. 

“I am, though,” he shoots back, like he’s arguing about who’s answer on the homework is right, not about his actual, literal life. “I’m going to die. But that’s—it’s okay. It’s been a week, so I’ve sort of come to terms with it.” 

“Screw that.” You turn more firmly towards him, pulling your legs under you to kneel on the bed. “Seriously, screw that. I can help you. If you think I’m just gonna- what, stand aside and let you die, then you really don’t know me at all.” 

“Sure. And you’re just gonna fix me, huh?” He shakes his head, turning it away from you with a huff. “All sunshine and rainbows after that. Not like I’ll have to bleed you to get better, right? Oh, wait.” Oh, he’s such a fucking diva, even on his deathbed, apparently.

“Oh, my God—yeah! I sort of figured it wouldn’t exactly be pleasant.” You didn’t spend all that time hesitating at the door because you thought it would be a walk in the park. “But if the choice is between that and letting you die, there’s no contest. I don’t understand why you’re so set on it when I’m sitting here offering you a solution!” 

“Maybe I don’t want to be saved!” His outburst silences you, especially because it seems to take a lot of energy from him to snap at you like that. He stares you down, red eyes meeting yours, and you…you don’t know what to say to that. 

You can lead a horse to water, but… “Sam—”

He cuts you off with another shake of his head. “Dean…he used to tell me that what we are doesn't make us monsters, it’s what we do. And I really wish I believed that, but the thing is, I…am going to die if I don’t feed from someone, like- like a fucking parasite. What is that if not monstrous?” 

“I don’t think you’re a monster,” you tell him. Slowly, cautiously, you reach for his face and replace your hand on his cheek, turning his gaze to meet yours. “I actually happen to think you’re one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. I don’t know what kind of monster would’ve apologized for getting deathly ill and accidentally standing me up.” 

His eyes flick over your face, like he’s searching for something. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.” His voice, thin and mournful, is heartbreaking. “I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t know—I’ve never been sick like this before. It’s possible I won’t have a lot of control if I feed on you like this.” 

That’s sort of what you were afraid of. But that’s the benefit of him feeding from you, rather than some random person off the street, right? You know what’s going on. “I won’t let you go too far,” you assure him. “Sam, please. I want to do this for you. Let me…let me help you.” 

His eyes meet yours, and he seems to find what he’s looking for. He lifts his hand and brushes your hair back off your neck. “If I do this—if—it’ll hurt, at first,” he tells you, placing his hand on your shoulder. Just resting there. It sends sparks down your spine all the same. “But not for long. It’ll start to feel good, kind of like getting high. But if I—I’m not going to bite you if I’m not sure you’ll be able to stop me if I take too much.” 

“I’ll stop you. If I have to.” You trust him, mostly. But you’re also aware that he hasn’t fed in a week, so you’re prepared to have to at least alert him to your blood loss. 

His fingers trail along your neck, goosebumps following in his wake. His eyes follow the path of his touch, and his hands may be hesitant, but you can see the hunger in his eyes. Maybe you can make the horse drink, after all. “Are you sure?” he asks, and his hand moves to the back of your head. Bracing. 

“I told you—” you say, your voice coming out almost as quiet as a breath— “I want to do this for you.” 

“Okay.” He leans forward until you can feel his breath on your neck. It’s almost cold, unnaturally so. “Tilt your head a little more, that way—there you go,” he instructs, and that tone in his voice is…yeah. You are definitely glad Dean didn’t come in with you. His lips brush your skin when he speaks next, “Ready?” 

“Yes.” You’re not sure how you manage to get your voice to come out as stable as it does. You bring your hands up to brace on his shoulders, and your grip goes a bit tighter when you feel his fangs press, just barely, against your skin. “Yeah, I’m—go ahead.” 

You’ve never been bitten by a vampire before. You have no frame of reference of whether this is what it’s like every time, or if it’s just a Sam thing. Or if it’s just a you and Sam thing. But the whole process is intensely intimate in a way you weren’t expecting. Even when he first sinks his fangs in and it stings, makes you draw in a sharp breath. He’s a little uncoordinated, you think, and maybe goes in at a weird angle, because he draws his teeth out to sink them in again, but not before his tongue flicks out to catch the blood that drips down the side of your neck. The gasp that escapes you this time is not just from the pain.

He was right, of course. It does hurt at first. But the pain is offset by his hand on your head, his fingers curling just so to grip your hair. You swear you can feel in real time as he gets his strength back. As your blood flushes the sickness out of him. You’re not sure there is anything more intimate than that. 

You think maybe you expected a transition between pain and euphoria, but there is no slow fade. In between one blink and the next, the pain disappears, replaced with a floaty, echoing pleasure that has your fingers clutching at Sam’s shirt. Everything around you goes a little unfocused, fuzzy, except for everywhere Sam touches, where you swear your nerves are lighting up with sparks and ecstasy. You might be making noises. It’s a little hard to tell, your senses dampened as they are. 

“Sam…” You shove a little at his shoulders when you notice your hands start to shake. He hums, and you feel it on your skin. You can see, now, why he likened this feeling to getting high, although you’re not sure it’s the feeding that you can see yourself getting addicted to. You shove him a little harder. “Gettin’ dizzy here.” 

He pulls back from your neck, and your senses return to you in a rush of sound and a pinprick sort of ache where his teeth had sunk into your skin. You watch, full focused vision returned, as Sam wipes at his mouth and then drags his tongue over his hand, now free of mottled veins, to catch the blood that had, you assumed, spilled as he drank from you. Like he can’t bear to waste a single drop. You swallow thickly, your mouth suddenly very dry. 

“You taste like…” He trails off, and then his mouth is on you again, but not biting. No, his tongue drags up your throat, and it occurs to you—vaguely, through the fog of earth-shattering, soul-bending lust that settles over you—that if blood had spilled down his mouth, then it stands to reason that it had made a mess of your neck as well. Not that you’re complaining, if this is the result of a little mess. He makes a soft noise against your skin, his breath hot now in a way it hadn’t been before. “Taste like…” His voice peters off again, distracted or just unable to find the words to describe it.

Yeah, screw this. “Let me find out for myself,” you murmur, your hands moving from his shoulders to his face—and his skin, too, is warmer now, almost the temperature you would generally expect it would be—until you can drag him into a kiss. The answer, as it turns out, is blood. You taste like blood, although you sort of assume it tastes different to him. Strangely, the flavor isn’t as off-putting as you would assume, especially not when he groans and uses his grip on your hair to tilt your head, kiss you deeper. !You lick into his mouth, tasting your actual, literal blood on his tongue, and you…don’t have the words to describe how absurdly hot it is.  

He’s not careful with his fangs, not really, lets them catch on your bottom lip and draw out pinpricks of blood that he soothes with his tongue. It makes the whole thing a little messy; he’s got blood smeared over his lips when you pull back to breathe. Your eyes track his tongue as he licks it up. 

His hand, the one that’s not braced on the back of your head, brushes against the skin of your waist under the hem of your shirt. “Is this okay?” he asks quietly, still so close that you can feel the words on your lips. 

Is this okay? You almost have to laugh at the question. As if you hadn’t wanted him since the first moment you saw him. “Yeah,” you tell him, a little smile tugging at your lips. “It is so absolutely more than okay.” 

At your confirmation, he smiles too, and his hand rests more firmly on your waist, almost grounding. “Well, I didn’t buy you dinner first. Wouldn’t want you to think I was ungentlemanly,” he says, drawing a soft laugh from you. 

“Aw, well. You did try.” You press forward, leaving a short kiss on his lips as your hand shifts from his face to tangle your fingers through his hair. “Plus, I mean…technically, I—”

Sam cuts you off with a kiss, but you can feel his grin against your mouth. “That does not count,” he protests.

“I dunno,” you say, a little sing-song in your voice as you grin at him. “I did quite literally just save your life. I think we might be a little past dinner.” 

He scoffs, shaking his head at you. He’s not annoyed though. You can tell, because his fingers flex on your waist and then move, brushing up your side. “Uh-huh. Sounds to me like I’m slacking.” He ducks his head and presses two short, soft kisses to your neck, right on top of the pinprick aches. “I’ll have to repay you. You did just save my life, after all.” 

Almost subconsciously, your fingers tighten in his hair. Anticipation settles in the small space between you, a space that grows even smaller when his hand presses against the small of your back and tugs your closer. “I did just save your life,” you repeat, your voice significantly breathier than it was before.

He laughs, a little puff of breath against your skin, and his lips drag down your throat in a line of open mouthed kisses until it lands at your pulse point. You swear to God, time slows down as he breathes in, slow and deep like he’s smelling your blood beneath your skin, and then presses his teeth to it until you can feel the points of them, precarious like water pooled on top of a penny. He doesn’t bite down, doesn’t break the skin, but fuck, you almost want him to. It seems like he wants to, too, as he closes his mouth with a snap. “Fuck…” He pulls back and lifts his eyes to yours. “Can I taste you? Please?” 

It takes you a second to understand what, exactly, he means. He’d already tasted you; if he wanted more blood, he could’ve just bitten you again. Then, it clicks, and you…well, what are you supposed to say to that? Sam Winchester, all big, cow eyes and mouth smeared with your blood, so politely asking to eat you out, like you’d be giving him a gift. How could you possibly turn that down? “Yeah. Yeah, fuck, that’s—yeah.” 

You only see his answering smile for half a second before his lips are on yours again, kissing, biting, while his hand caresses over the bare skin of your stomach. His kiss, his touch, is almost overwhelming, doesn’t leave you much room to think about anything else but him. Not that you really want to. He tugs at the hem of your shirt, pulls back just far enough from you to speak, and even then you can feel his lips move against yours as he asks, “Can I take this off?” 

You really do laugh this time, drawing your hands down his neck and over his shoulders. “I appreciate the whole gentleman thing, I really do, but Sam, baby, I’ve wanted you since before I even knew your name. So let’s just assume that whatever you wanna do, I really fuckin’ want it, too.” 

His eyes flick over your face, and you can literally feel the cocky ass grin he gets at that. It is, unfortunately, like everything else he does, ridiculously sexy. “That long, huh?” He’s such a dick. You want him more than you’ve ever wanted anything in your entire life. He tugs back and drags his gaze down your torso, his hand leaving your hair to join the other in toying with the hem of your shirt. “Guess I shouldn’t keep you waiting any longer, then.” His hands brush against the skin of your stomach as he pulls your shirt up and over your head before tossing it aside, not caring where it lands. You’ll find it later. Or you won’t. 

His eyes lave over your newly bare skin, his hands following shortly behind. “You are so beautiful,” he murmurs, pressing his palms flat against your stomach and dragging them up your ribs. “Can you lay back for me, darling?” he asks, even as his hands press you back against the mattress before you can respond. 

You go easily, not in the least because the name knocks the breath out of you. “Darling?” you echo, shifting until you’re resting comfortably against the nest of pillows at the head of the bed. 

Sam climbs over you, his knee nudging yours until you spread your legs to make room for his hips to settle between your thighs. “Is that alright?” he asks, ducking his head to press his lips to the hinge of your jaw. 

More than alright, if the fluttering in your stomach is anything to go by. “It’s fine,” you say, playing it cool. Then, because his hands are rubbing up and down the bare skin of your sides and his teeth (the blunt ones, not the fangs, because he has much more self control than you do) are nipping at the skin of your neck, you play it decidedly uncool and continue, “Darling.” 

You feel his answering smile against the skin of your collarbone as he and his kisses and his teeth travel down the line of your neck and chest, pausing at the edge of your bra. He lifts his eyes to meet yours through his lashes as his lips press the softest of kisses there. “‘M gonna take this off, now,” he tells you, his voice deep and rumbling. His hands move up your back, and you arch your spine to allow him room to do so. He undoes your bra clasp without removing his lips from your chest, tugs the garment down your arms and tosses it vaguely in the same direction as your shirt without a second thought. 

“I thought about this, you know,” he says, softly, against the skin in the valley of your breasts. “Getting my mouth on you. How it would feel.” He shifts his attention, his lips closing over your nipple while his hand palms your other breast. It draws a soft gasp from your lips, your fingers twisting in his hair. “How you’d sound,” he continues, his voice a little cocky now. 

“Sam…” His name falls from your lips on an exhale, like you’re breathing him in, like he’s pumping through your veins the same way you’re now pumping through his. 

He smirks. If you thought he was cocky before… “Yeah, pretty much—” He presses that smirk against one nipple and brushes his thumb over the other, and while your head is dropping back onto the pillows with a moan, he laves his tongue over it to make you moan even louder— “just like that.” He's got you so distracted, you almost don't notice his free hand trailing down your stomach, brushing along the waistband of your jeans, not until his fingers undo the button with practiced ease. 

“Oh, God, you are so unfairly hot.” You lift your head to watch as he kisses his way down your stomach until he finally reaches your waistband with his mouth, too, and leaves a nippy little bite there. 

He laughs, glances up at you with that fucking smirk as he drags your jeans down your hips. “Unfair to who? You?” The two of you maneuver a bit until he can tug your pants off your ankles and toss them aside, another clothing casualty lost to the war on your sanity led by the swooping in your gut whenever Sam looks at you like that. 

“Not me,” you elaborate, although it’s hard to do so when Sam’s hands are settling on your hips and his thumbs are rubbing slow circles on your skin and dipping just so under the elastic of your panties on every other pass. “But, like, every other guy. How is anyone supposed to compete with…this?” 

This being Sam motherfucking Winchester, who had spent months shyly testing the waters and cautiously flirting so subtly that you were terrified you’d read him wrong, suddenly suave and confident and practically begging to eat you out. Oh, and also being, objectively, the hottest monster. This man has been terrorizing the dating pool for maybe centuries. You shudder to think how many women’s standards he has completely obliterated. 

Continuing the streak of obliterating your standards, he ducks his head, that shy smile on his lips again. “I mean, I should hope no one is competing with me in this particular instance,” he says, voice hesitant as if there’s a chance on Earth you’d ever turn him down. 

You shake your head, and honestly, you can’t help but laugh because a literal vampire is about to go down on you, and somehow the most unbelievable part of this situation is that he thinks he has an ounce of competition. “Are you actually asking me if I want to be exclusive right now?” you ask, drawing a hand up and through his hair, brushing his fringe off his forehead. “Because I feel like I made it so obvious how much I like you. Obviously, there is no competition.” 

You have the honor of watching Sam blush for the first time, and knowing that you made it possible. Your blood flushes his cheeks, makes his face go the prettiest shade of pink you’ve ever seen. 

 “Obviously,” he echoes, his words brushing against the skin just above your panties. His hands brush down your thighs, and he pulls one of your legs up and over his shoulder so your heel rests against his back. He turns his head, and with your thigh now bracketing his head, it’s easy for him to press an open-mouthed kiss there, and then another, and then another until he’s brought you back practically to panting again. 

“‘M gonna make you see stars,” he tells you, his lips pressed against the crease where your thigh meets your hip. “And then, because I am a gentleman, I’m going to buy you dinner. And I’m gonna be thinking about this—” He nips at your skin, bares his fangs this time and draws a well of blood and a gasp from you simultaneously— “The way you taste; the way you feel—I’m gonna be thinking about it the whole time.” He draws his hands back up to your hips just to tuck his fingers under the elastic of your panties, lifting his eyes to yours as he tugs on it. “Can I take these off?” 

You think you might die if he doesn’t. “Please.” 

His fangs seem to glint in the light when he grins, but he ducks his head before you can look again, a sort of hyperfocus to his posture as he shifts your hips and legs until he can pull your underwear off your ankles, and finally, finally, leaves you bare to him. He doesn’t waste a second, his hands dragging up your thighs and then spreading them further, his eyes roving over you like you’re the most beautiful work of art he’s ever seen. “Gorgeous.” His voice, breathy and sweet, washing over you is the only warning you get before his lips press against you in a surprisingly gentle kiss. 

Your lungs expand on a gasp, and then deflate on a moan as he laves his tongue between your folds, the muscle pressed flat and soft like a tease. Or a preview. You’re not totally sure you’re going to survive this actually. You might die with Sam’s tongue licking over your pussy, and honestly, what a fucking way to go. 

“Taste so good all over, huh?” Oh, holy fuck, he’s still talking. His lips brush over your skin and make you whine, and you’re pretty sure you can feel the vibrations of his voice better than you can hear him. “Feel like I should thank you. Letting me feed from you, and now this?” He makes it sound like it’s some sacrifice to let him go down on you, like you’re not gripping his hair so tight you’re surprised you’re not pulling it out. “You’re perfect.” 

“Oh, my God,” your voice comes out high and tight as he closes his lips over your clit and sucks. Your back arches off the bed, but as your hips shift to press up against his mouth, you find his hand pressed low on your stomach, pinning you down. “Sam—oh, my God.” 

You can feel as much as hear the soft, contented hums he’s making, like he’s never wanted to be anywhere more than with his head between your legs and his tongue drawing circles over your clit. His fangs, sharp and dangerous, are almost artfully pressed against your skin, just barely enough to feel the points of them. His free hand, the one not pressing you down against the mattress, keeps trailing up and down the outside of your thigh, making you shiver and press your heel into his back. And it’s so obvious he’s loving this maybe even as much as you are, his whole body shifting as he grinds down against the mattress, and God, that feels almost as good as his mouth on your cunt does. He’s getting off on the taste of you, on making you squirm and whine and moan.

It’s over the second he presses his tongue against your entrance and his nose smushes against your clit—everything after that is a jumble of sensation. The feeling of his tongue fucking in and out, his nose rubbing against you with every movement of his mouth, his hand grabbing at your thigh and holding your legs open when your muscles go tense and tight and anticipatory. 

He draws his tongue out of you with an obscene slurping sound that just has you hurtling even faster towards the edge, your hands grabbing at his hair for dear fucking life, white knuckled. “Are you gonna come?” he asks, his voice low and gruff and almost fucked out. You squeeze your eyes shut, nodding as if it wasn’t obvious from the constant stream of noises spilling from your lips. “Yeah? Go on, come on my tongue. Give it to me, darling, let me taste it.” 

How could you resist that? His words and his stupidly talented mouth draw you over the edge, your pussy spasming as you do exactly as he asked and come on his tongue. True to his word, he does, in fact, make you see stars, lights sparking behind your eyelids. His mouth works you through it until you’re whining and using your grip on his hair to tug him away, oversensitive as you come down from an explosive fucking orgasm. 

He presses kisses on your inner thigh as he shifts it off his shoulder, your body loose and pliant now. “There you go, good girl.” The words make your cunt give a valiant twitch, even as he draws himself up your body until he’s laying beside you and pressing kisses over your face. “Was that good?” 

You peek one eye open to look at him, incredulous. “Was that good—you’re so ridiculous, c’mere.” You turn your head to draw him into a slow, lingering kiss. Much like the taste of your blood in his mouth, the taste of your pussy on his tongue is, frankly, life-changing. You’re addicted already. 

He draws back with a soft laugh, his eyes traveling over your face with such obvious fondness that you have to press another quick kiss against his lips. “Okay, understood.” He brings his hand up to brush over your face, soft and gentle and such a contrast to the obscene pleasure he’d taken in going down on you that it makes your cheeks go warm. “So when can I buy you that dinner?” 

The question gives you pauses, and your eyes flick down his body, curious. “Did you not want me to…” 

You watch your blood, again, flood his cheeks as he laughs and rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “That’s not—I really like giving head,” he explains, as if that is not literally the hottest thing he could’ve possibly said. 

Fuck dinner, you wanna go five rounds with him back to back right now. “Okay,” you say, because he’s very sweet and he wants to be a gentleman and who are you to take that from him? “You can take me to dinner, if you swear you’ll let me suck you off when we get back. Deal?” 

The way his face lights up is worth having to wait. “Deal.”  

“And,” you continue, your hand smoothing over his hair where your grip had mussed it up, “next time you need blood, let’s just skip the whole ‘I’m a monster’ thing. I am more than willing to supply you; I have a vested interest in keeping you around.” 

He rolls his eyes, but the way he kisses you, fangs and all, tells you he gets it.

[thehighladywrites]

The Airhead Chronicles

…and the date

-> pairing: cassian x bimbo/ditzy reader

-> summary: finally the day is here, you’re going on a date with cassian!! now you just have to prepare and get ready for it. Cassian is prepared to finally ask you some questions and the mention of your secret friend rubs him the wrong way. But how does the date go, and who on earth opens the door at Cassian’s friends house?…

-> warnings: suggestive themes, nsfw, smut, super fluff, light angst, public sex, yeah, none of you care about getting caught fucking in a restaurant, oral (m.receiving) , bargain tattoos, almost oral (f.receiving), wing play, daddy kink

-> amara’s note: I think this is one of my fav things to write, I really love ditzy reader, she's so fun and cute.

part 1 part 2

Startled by a sudden knock, you quickly stood up, intrigued by the unexpected visitor. Opening the door, you were met with a smiling man.

“Hi there pretty lady, are you Y/n?” he asked. After exchanging pleasantries, he handed you a paper and a pen, insisting you sign.

Curious, you replied, “Oh, what’s this for, I’m pretty sure I didn’t order anything, or did I?” Sensing your confusion, the man stepped closer and pointed a finger at a dotted line. “Just sign here, baby. How about I come in and show you?”

Normally, you'd agree to some help because you didn’t really like reading long and confusing papers, but with your date approaching, you looked at him apologetic and declined.

“Sorry, maybe next time. I'm getting ready for a date with this really hot guy, and I have a lot of things to do. But why am I signing this?”

His face turned sour, and he threw a bouquet of flowers at you, muttering something about a special delivery before you signed. He left without saying goodbye, and you tilted your head, wondering if you said something to upset him.

The confusion quickly left your mind when you looked down, eyes wide, and heart beating faster as a huge smile spread on your lips. The bouquet was wrapped around white and pink baby breaths and peonies. You let out a shriek of happiness as you spun around and smelled the fresh, fragrant flowers. They were unlike anything else, handled with care and professionalism.

Scurrying to the kitchen, you pulled out a vase from your cabinets as you filled it with water to put your flowers in. While you fiddled with the petals, you saw a note attached as you opened it.

Reading the note, your eyes lit up with excitement. You twirled around, a broad grin on displayed, absorbing the message:

“Can’t wait to see you tonight, beautiful. I will pick you up, just be ready by 8. - Cassian.”

You halted your twirl, taking a deep breath.

Fucking Gods, you had to look absolutely stunnig, like drop-dead gorgeous. The sexiest dress was a non-negotiable, paired with a cute bag. Your hair needed to be freshly styled, and ohhh, a fresh set of nails was a must, even though it hadn't been a week since your last set.

Let’s be real, you knew you were pretty and didn’t need someone to tell you that, but it was nice to hear nonetheless, especially from Cassian. It was weird, you had known him for just over a week and already you felt a connection to him.

With your plans set, you dove into the whirlwind of preparation. The closet became a battleground of choices as you sifted through dresses, searching for the one that screamed "fuck me right now, please." The chosen outfit hung proudly on the door, awaiting its moment. A stunning sheer black dress with a v-neck, a thigh-high slit, and the best part - it sparkled.

Your hair received the full treatment of preparation and care, making you wonder how you’d display it tonight—curls, an updo, low bun or straight? The decision was as crucial as the dress itself, because what if you wanted to blow him? A ponytail would be ideal, but if you were gonna be fucked missionairy then a ponytail would be super uncomfy. Maybe just some curls then? Yes, you definitely wanted some bouncy curls resulting in you pulling out your hair rollers and pins. It was such a pain to put them on because your arms hurt from keeping them up but you didn’t care. Finally, a cute little bag accompanied the ensemble, adding that perfect touch paired with some simple heels.

The urgency for flawlessness led you to contemplate a fresh set of nails. Despite the recent pampering, the allure of perfection beckoned, and you found yourself on the way to the nail salon. After all, a week felt like an eternity when it came to looking drop-dead gorgeous.

As the appointment at the nail salon progressed, you debated between daring and classic shades. The manicurist, familiar to your frequent visits, skillfully crafted a fresh set that made you smile so hard, your face started hurting, letting out an excited sound.

With your nails perfected, you rushed home to continue the transformation, hair and makeup being the last step. Your dress clung to you like a second skin, accentuating every curve. Your reflection in the mirror confirmed your pursuit of drop-dead hotness. Smiling at yourself you adjusted your hair before putting on your jewelry, marveling at the final result. You really hoped Cassian would compliment you otherwise you’d die. His attention was so addicting and you wanted to be around him every single second for some reason.

Glancing at the clock, you realized the incoming arrival of Cassian. The butterflies in your stomach intensified as you added the finishing touches, ready to open the door to a night filled with excitement and allure.

“Hi Cassie!!” Your smile subdued a bit as you shifted nervously when he just stared at you not saying anything. Should you have worn something different? Maybe gone with the pink you wanted? Maybe he didn’t like your hair…

Cassian stood at the door, his eyes widening as he took in your stunning transformation. His brain seemed to short-circuit, and he simply stared at you with his jaw open, momentarily lost for words in the face of your breathtaking appearance. The snug fabric around your frame made blood rush to his cock, a reaction that almost tempted him to slap his own face. "Am I some kind of teenager or something, gods," he thought to himself, caught in the unexpected whirlwind of emotions your presence stirred.

“Hi sweetheart, fuck, you look absolutely breathtaking,” he managed to exclaim, a genuine smile lighting up his face. He spun you around, getting a good luck at you as your perfume filled his nose. Blushing at the compliment, you replied with a happy smile. “Thank you, Cassie. I'm so excited for tonight! Where are we going?”

He offered his arm, and you linked yours with his as you both stepped into the night, ready for the date that awaited. “Don’t worry your pretty, little head about it, it’s a surprise, sweet girl.”

Thank fuck he held you, because you could barely stand with the way your knees wobbled. The urge to just shove him in an alley and give him some life-changing head was just too strong. Cassian looked soooo freaking hot, dressed in a well-fitted suit.His hair had been put in a half bun, arms looking soooo massive, and an inexplicable desire to bite them tugged at your thoughts.

Caught in the spell of his side profile , the world around you seemed to fade into the background. Cassian’s voice became a distant hum as your eyes glued to him.

Your mind went hazy as you found yourself daydreaming about him, captivated by the allure of the moment.

Cassian halted mid-sentence in his talk about the restaurant when he noticed your silence. Curiosity painted his expression as he looked down at you, only to find you hazily looking up at him. Your plump lips were slightly parted, and your eyes were wide and sparkly, lost in a momentary enchantment.

Cassian was going to treat himself to some of Rhysands expensive liquor, it was truly something magical about his restraint. The way you looked up to him made his cock painfully hard. There was something submissive and desperate in your gaze. Before he cancelled the night and took you to his room to fuck you senseless, he broke the silence, chuckling, “I must be boring you with all this restaurant talk. What’s on your mind?”

You blinked, snapping out of the enchantment, and mumbled while feeling warm. “Um, no, not at all, Cassie. I was just… appreciating the view.”

His eyebrows lifted in playful surprise, “The view? Of me?”

You nodded with a secretive grin, “Guilty… I mean I can’t help it. You look so handsome. Now tell me about the restaurant.” The conversation resumed, but the sparkle of that moment lingered, adding an extra layer of magic to the evening.

Your brows furrowed as you read the menu. What on earth was an entrecôte? Foie gras? Was that some sort of joke? It was infuriating and you just wanted some food. Looking up at Cassian, you noticed he had already decided and was looking through the wine list. Feeling helpless, you whispered to him, “Um Cassie, I don’t know what this means. If any of this means mushrooms and cilantro, then let me know, they’re super yucky.”

He took your menu and brought your hand up to place a kiss on it, “Don’t worry, pretty girl. I’ll take care of it. How does chicken sound?” You nodded, grateful for the escape from the decision-making. Ugh, was being pretty and living too hard? You just wanted to exist without thinking about annoying things.

Cassian certainly eased it for you.

“Uh-huh, yes please,” you replied. He tilted his head, a playful smile playing on his lips. “My, what good manners you have. A good girl indeed.”

The echo of Cassian calling you a good girl sent a shiver down your spine, nearly sending you into a dreamy state. Resisting the magnetic pull of his warmth became a challenge.

Would it really hurt though? Cassian had rented out an entire section of the restaurant for your date, the only other person you’d see during the whole night was a waiter who kept away unless he was serving you food.

Unable to resist any longer, you inched toward him, lifting yourself. Cassian, sitting manspread, welcomed you onto one of his thighs. As you settled, his arm snaked behind your back, keeping you securely in place as you slung your arm over his shoulder while the other traced circles and shapes on his chest. The world outside this private bubble faded, leaving just the two of you in a cocoon of shared warmth and intimacy.

The waiter discreetly approached, and Cassian smoothly placed the order, his attention never wavering from you. The world outside this secluded moment ceased to exist. He was so content he almost forgot one of the reasons he had been so desperate to see you again. Placing a sweet kiss on your cheek and neck, he asked.

“ I’ve been wondering,” he began, his eyes holding a mixture of curiosity and concern, “ There’s not a lot a know about you, and i’d like to change that. I mean have you always lived in Velaris?” You hummed and answered cheerfully, “ No, I used to live in the Hewn City but a friend helped me move here. My family still live there but they think I live in the Day Court, since Velaris is a secret city and all.”

He observed you carefully, wondering what possible friend could’ve gotten you into Velaris without him or the inner circle knowing? Velaris wasn’t some place one just moved to, it was a secret and protected city, warded against anyone who wasn’t welcome. Your answer only made him more curious.

“Yeah, your friend helped you? Do they live here?” You giggled as you looked at him with a “duh” look.

“Of course my friend still lives here, what a silly question! We meet once a month to catch up and he sometimes brings the family to our get-togethers.”

“ How fun, sweet girl. You’ll have to introduce me to your friend, yeah?” you leaned in as his arm became a comforting weight around your waist.

“Yay, that would be so much fun! He’s like this super old guy that I work for but I promise he’s really funny and his wife is such a sweetheart, I love her.” His heart thundred at the excitement you unknowingly pushed through the bond, making him crack a huge smile. Heavens, your were so adorable, he wanted to see you smile forever. “Is he a good boss then? What is it you do for him?” Flashing him a secret smile, you leaned in conspiratorially as you started playing with the buttons of his crisp white shirt.

“I wish I could tell you Cassie, but it’s tip-top secret and I’m bound to never, ever in a million years tell a single soul. I even have this cool tattoo for it.” You whispered as if afraid anyone would hear you before pulling down the strap of your dress and showing him the bargain tattoo.

Cassian's expression froze, his mind racing to fathom the deal you might have struck. Did you grasp the consequences of Night Court's bargain tattoos? The kind of searing fucking pain that awaited anyone attempting to breach its secrecy? The instincts that come with a mating bond made him feel murdereous at the thought of anyone striking a dangerous deal with his mate.

He didn’t want you experiencing the pain of accidentally telling him about the bargain, so he dropped the subject completely, picking up new things to talk about. While waiting for the meal, you tried to attentively listen as Cassian, the general and commander of the Night Court as he had told you, told you the tales of his thrilling adventures and loving family. But he sometimes used big words that made you tilt your head in confusion, he had however noticed it early on and switched to more simple terms, ensuring your understanding of the topic.

Of all of your years living, you had never felt so safe and cared for as you did here with Cassian. Sure your parents never laid hands on you but they certainly didn’t like you very much, calling you incapable and downright stupid. It hurt you, it really did because you tried but it simply wasn’t as easy as it sounded. Cassian, this gorgeous man, noticed you didn’t understand but he didn’t outright dumb it down for you.

He… just used another word with the same meaning he explained and it really made you happy. Because for some reason, his approval and attention was necessary for you to function and you literally couldn’t imagine him ever being disappointed in you.

After dessert was served, Cassian told the waiter and the chef that you were done eating and paid the bill, leaving a generous tip. They left you all alone in your section and the seclusion made you more bold. You certainly didn’t care if anyone saw you blowing him or anything but… it felt more intimate doing in just for him. You were still sat on his thigh as he spoon fed you the delicious chocolate cake.

Chills ran down your arms upon locking eyes with Cassian, and from your position, you explored his face, fingertips tracing a scar along his eyebrow. Your hand moved over his cheekbones, jaw, nose, and finally, his flawless lips. Drawing close, you both whispered intimately, “Can I kiss you, sweetheart?” he rasped, to which you replied in a hushed tone, “Yes, please, Cassie.”

With a tender murmur he said, “my perfect girl,” his soft lips met yours.

As the kiss unfolded, time seemed to slow, encapsulating you both in a world of shared warmth and intimacy. Cassian's lips, soft against yours, the room faded away, leaving only the electric energy between you two. You had kissed plenty people before, but nothing felt as addictive and pleasurable as this.

Cassian’s body shaped perfectly against yours as he pulled you on his lap, making you straddle his hips, legs on either side of him as your dress bunched. His hair was pulled out of his bun as you dragged your manicured nails across his scalp.

He out out a groan as his hands found your hips, his hold tightening as he ground upwards making you moan at the contact.

Breaking the kiss, Cassian's eyes held a newfound tenderness and hunger. “You're something else, you know that?” he whispered, his voice carrying a mix of admiration and affection. A shared smile lingered between you, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken emotions that had just passed between your lips.

A loud shatter was heard as you looked up panting, absolutely forgetting that you two may have a section rented out, but you were still out in public and if anyone wanted to stretch their legs, they certainly wouldn’t miss you grinding in Cassian’s lap, lips puffy and hair tousled.

Cassian couldn’t have cared less even of he tried to. Being the lord of bloodshed, the general leading the armies of the night court, and one of the greatest warriors in the history of Prythian granted Cassian liberties in his eyes. Unlike ordinary fae males, he wasn't restricted from openly displaying affection for his mate at any time or place. There wasn’t a person on earth that could tell him what to do with you.

Fucking in public didn’t scare him or make him feel embarrassed. No, Cassian fucking loved the thrill of being caught. Loved the little voice in his head telling him that someone would be walking in on him pleasuring his mate, your face scrunched up in pleasure as someone catches you, your heartbeat quickening at the taboo scene.

But he’d never in his life put you in a position that made you uncomfortable, he’d rather chop his cock off. So he looked at your face, searching for any fear.

“You okay? Wanna stop, baby?” The thought of you getting off his lap and feeling shame or embarrasement was enough to make him feel nauseous. But that all quickly left when you looked down at him with blushy cheeks, a wide grin on your face as you laughed. “Wow, that sounded really close. Guess you better fuck me quickly Cassie, we wouldn’t want someone to catch us, now would we? I mean that would be soooo bad and we’d be kicked out, right?”

Cassian easily detected the false concern written all over your face. There was a blend of amusement, warmth, and hunger in your expression. You playfully pouted, furrowing your brows in mock thinking as you tilted your head.

Looking up darkly at you he flashed you a feral grin, furrowing his brow in mock thinking. “Of course. It would be very, very bad if someone caught me with my head between your legs, I mean whatever would we do?”

You stood up, hopping up on the table in front of him, propped up like a post-dessert treat with your legs spread infront of his hungry gaze.

“ Let’s find out. I think you missed some of your dessert, baby. Come eat me up, Cassie…” He put his hands around your ankles as he removed your heels, then hissed when he felt your stocking-clad foot rub against his strained cock. Your eyes caught his wings ruffling as curiosity prompted your question.

“Cassie, why are your wings so big? Can I touch them or would it hurt?”

His wings rustled, then tightened in instinct. Illyrian wings were absolutely not to be touched by anyone without invitation, they were to be protected at any cost. His people had been taught to never let anyone get close enough to them, often punching first and then asking questions if someone ever touched them.

“No, sweet girl, they wouldn’t hurt if you touched them. It’s just a sacred part of me that I as an Illyrian protect with my life.” You observed the intricate patterns on his wings, fascinated by the interplay of light and shadow, gold and read hues swirling.

Cassian, sensing your curiosity, continued, “Touching them is a privilege reserved for the one I’ll one day trust deeply, a gesture of profound connection between two mates.” His gaze held a promise, hinting at a deeper connection yet to unfold. You slumped slighty as you realized that you probably weren’t his mate and quickly lowered you rising hand.

“Oh, okay then. They seem really cool anyways, your future mate is quite lucky huh?” Your eyes met his own filled with longing and hope.

Growing up in The Hewn City, the stories of mates filled your imagination, creating a yearning for a connection forged by The Mother Herself. However, your parents swiftly dismissed any ideas of such fantasies, emphasizing a more practical approach to your future. The concept of a deep, equal partnership and lover was a cherished daydream, overshadowed by the reality your parents presented.

Amidst gossip with friends about the mysterious idea of mates, your parents insisted on abandoning these fairytales. Their focus remained fixed on preparing you for a marriage that would secure wealth and influence, mirroring the traditions of countless pairs in the city. The prospect of bringing shame to the family loomed as an unthinkable consequence, one that could lead to disownment or in some cases death.

You were incredibly fortunate to have made a friend that helped you out, otherwise you’d probably be some unhappy bride whose only task would be baby-making and keeping quiet.

Your eyes filled with tears as you started thinking about the male infront of you. If the bond hadn’t snapped for you yet, then you probably weren’t mates and it made you sick thinking that there was someone else out there who’d snatch Cassian up. A hand brushing up your calf brought you back to reality as you were met with eyes filled with worries.

“No, hey, what's going on, sweetheart? Why are you crying, hm?” Cassian asked, concern etched across his face. Overwhelmed by sadness, you slumped forward, letting out deep sobs.

"Don't think m’your mate, Cassie. I really, really wanna be with you forever, but you'll probably choose your mate if they ever come along. Also, I probably have a mate somewhere, and I feel like we shouldn't keep going because I'm falling for you, like really hard, and I really don't think I'd survive it if we ended things before they even really started.”

Your wrecked sobs made him sick with guilt. The realization that he was the cause of your tears hit hard. His hands found their way to your back, gently caressing it as he tried to provide comfort. Unable to bear it any longer, he blurted out the words before more sobs could escape,

“ I’m your mate. I felt the bond snap the first time we met, baby. I didn’t want to you to feel like you had to accept the bond or feel pressured to discover it. I wished for you to find out on your own, at your own pace. And I’m truly sorry for the pain i’ve caused you. If I had known this was something you really wanted, I would’ve told you straight away, sweet girl. I was wrong to assume and I’m deeply sorry. Please forgive me?”

Cassian’s words hung in the air, a revelation that shifted the atmosphere between you. Stunned, you looked up, eyes searching his for any sign of anger or irritation at your sudden breakdown or any deception. His gaze, however, held a sincerity that echoed in the depths of your shared connection, held a mix of pain, guilt and sadness paired with hope.

“You’re really mine? My mate?” the question was carried by your whispering voice. Cassian nodded and confirmed,

“Yes, i’m yours as you are mine.” The words triggered that golden bond, snapping the thread of life and love deep in your chest. Holding a hand to your chest, you looked at him breathing deeply.

“Mate. You’re my mate!” you shrieked and kissed all over his face, ending with a big kiss on his lips, making him laugh.

“Um, so can i now touch ‘em?” you questioned as you nodded your head in the direction of his massive wings. His back straightened and he explained,

“My wings have never been out during intimate encounters with females. It makes me feel vulnerable and I don’t like it. But for you… for you I’d pluck the stars from the night sky if you asked me. Go ahead, sweetheart but be careful they can be quite-”

He didn’t even finish his sentence when he felt your warm hands caressing the ridge of his leathery wings. Cassian twisted in his seat when you went over a certain spot. His whole body flashed with warmth, leaving a trail of goosepumps as his stomch flipped.

His face revealed delight, accompanied by low groans as your nails traced over the delicate wing. Intrigued, you inquired about the sensation. He leaned in, softly blowing air near your ear, eliciting goosebumps and a slight arch in your body.

He knew he’d come undone if you kept touching him so he picked you up, swept everything away from the table and put you on your back. Perhaps he should’ve been more quiet because when the waiter hurriedly came to check on the broken dishes, he received a savage snarl, so unlike the usually levelheaded male.

“ Get. Out.” Your mate gritted towards the poor fae. He’d make sure to leave another huge tip, but he didn’t have time to think of it now that the bond was so fresh and there was a male staring down his half naked mate. Cassian finally turned his attention to you when you grabbed his cock through his slacks.

“ c’mon mate, need you so bad, please.” you grabbed the back of his head, smashing his lips against yours as you whined and mumbled about needing his cock inside you. Any sort of foreplay was out of the question, you’d play later. You felt like you might literally die if you didn’t feel him closer to you right now.

You were consumed by an overwhelming desperation, feeling as if you'd burst out of your skin without his immediate presence. The ache for more of him intensified, a desperate longing for his touch to ravage you entirely. Tears welled in your eyes as you begged, desperate to be fucked right there, yearning to be claimed by your mate.

The desperation in your voice spurred cassian on as his hands skillfully removed his belt, pulling out his hard cock as he slid in and out, again and again and again. Rocking the table as he thrust into you hard, filling you up deliciously. Your mouths found each other in a deep kiss as you pulled his hair, earning a deep groan.

“You’re so fucking beautiful all spread out for me. My precious mate,” he mumbled against you. 

 “mmh, harder please- fucking me soo gooddd” You moaned. The pleasure was building up in your belly making you squirm against him “Please, daddy, let me cum.”

He halted all his movements, pulling you out of your bubble of pleasure. Why did he stop? You felt your high fizzle down as you felt tears in your eyes. “Cassie, why did you stop? I almost finished… s’not fair” you whined, crossing you arms as you looked away, feigning disbelief and anger.

You seriously hadn’t noticed what you called him? Were you fucked out already? Well, whatever. Cassian’s ego boosted immensely at the fact that you had mindlessly called him daddy.

“You’re so good for me, such a beautiful, beautiful girl. My mate makes me proud.”

His praise made you simultaneously melt against his body yet tighten around his cock as a new rush of slick gushed out of you. Bringing his one hand to your nipple while the other played with your clit, Cassian was determined to make you cum then take you home. It had to be your house because he really couldn’t promise he wouldn’t attack Rhys or Azriel if they laid their eyes on you, let alone saw your vulnerable, fucked out state.

The simultaneous pleasure made your head spin as you grabbed his arm to steady youself.

“feels..” you swallow the glob of saliva pooling on your tongue. “f-feels s’good, daddy. m’gonna cum…” His thrusts didn’t slow down as he was met by your relaxed expression - your eyes had crossed as your tongue lolled out a bit, making you drool. A few more pumps and he felt his knees wobble with intensity. You screams of pleasure were muffled by his hand as you came.

“gotta be quiet baby, lest someone catches us” groaning out the last part, Cassian pumps once, twice and finishes deep inside with as he slumps forward, head nuzzled against your neck, breathing in your intoxicating scent.

Driven by the fresh mating bond, he succumbed to a primal urge, covering your naked and relaxed form. Desperation fueled his actions, and protective instincts surged as he struggled with the dilemma of getting you home without causing harm, his every move tinged with the urgency of preserving your safety.

Wanting more, you pull him closer and wrap your legs around him. “daddy, i want more. please let’s go home because the table is kinda uncomfy n i wanna be on my bed instead.” Hands slither around you, pulling you up with as you clung to him. He drops a stack of money on the table to cover what he destroyed plus an appreciation for leaving him alone, gods know he would’ve shown no restraint if that waiter had been a little more bold.

“ s’okay cas i got this,” the whole restaurant fades into black before a cozy porch is replaced with the murmur of the restaurant. You’d winnowed home but not inside, leaving you right outside the door.

“ Sweetie, is your house warded or are you capable of winnowing inside too?” you shook your head and giggly responded,

“ mm, no, my house is protected from bad guys and only people i want can get inside. My friend fixed it for me, he’s super nice and you should totally meet him sometime.” The mention of another guy leaving your lips was enough for Cassian to make his eyes twitch but you looked so happy so he just nodded in agreement.

Opening the door, you welcomed Cassian into your cozy house. As he stepped in, his widened as his eyes roamed across the spacious hallway featuring a body-length mirror, perfect for a quick self-check before heading out, you told him. The hall led to a spacious living room with high ceilings exuding luxury, and the massive kitchen boasted pink appliances, a charming detail that seemed to define your style, he noticed.

His smile widened as he took in the cutesy and predominantly pink decor scattered throughout the house. It was a unique touch that resonated with your personality. As you guided him up the stairs, he marveled at the size of the home, realizing it was quite spacious for a single person.

Passing by several empty rooms, you finally opened the grand bedroom. The king-sized bed with frilly white sheets and an array of pink pillows dominated the space, surrounded by what seemed like an army of stuffed animals, a table adorned with the flowers he sent you this morning. Turning to the left he say your huge closet with clothes littered over the floor. You ran and closed the door behind you, leaning against it as you let out a nervous laugh, “ oh, that’s just my closet. it’s a bit messy so let’s just not look there.”

You bit your lips as your eyes squinted in the dim light. He looked so delicious and you wanted more. wanted your mate, closer. Despite being mere feet apart, an insatiable need for closeness overcame you. Closing the gap, you kissed him, reigniting the connection that began at the restaurant, determined to continue it throughout the night.

The night with your mate unfolded in a series of intimate moments, he put you in new positions and taught you pleasures you never imagined. His expertise left you in a constant state of bliss, with every moment dedicated to mutual satisfaction. You had slept for about an hour or two before going at it again when he stood up and stretched, the sight enough for you to tackle him and ride him right there on your fluffy carpet.

As dawn approached, you marveled at the fact that you had enough restraint to let him slip away and prepare breakfast. The lingering sensations and shared experiences had created a bond that extended beyond the physical, making the morning after feel like a continuation of the enchanting night. Now you laid in the protective arms of you lover, looking at him while biting your lips to keep from pouncing in him.

“If you keep staring at me like that, we won't leave the house ever,” you looked away from his gaze, blushing furiously.

“Maybe I don't wanna leave the house. I wanna be with you forever and ever, cassie” you whispered, nestling closer and kissing his cheek, a familiar gesture of affection.

He chuckled warmly, deeply and kissed you back before your broke the kiss.

“Cas, you mentioned your friends live here. Can I meet them? You spoke about them like you really, really love them,”you inquired, sensing a shift in the air as his grip tightened around you.

“Another time, sweetheart. Right now, I need you alone. I can't even think about leaving you,” he confessed, his tone carrying a protective intensity.

“Do you know much about the mating bond?” you explained that you knew it was two people fated together in a perfect match but that was all your parents allowed you to know. He nodded and explained,

“A newly mated couple can be very... let's say, unstable. There have been many cool and collected males and females who lost their minds when someone laid their eyes on their mate for too long. Sane people have abandoned all critical thinking wherever their mate is involved. Their first and only thought is their mate’s safety and happiness. People have died for provoking newly-mated. So, please, give me a little time because there's a very likely chance I might kill someone for looking at you a bit too much." This…frenzy will cool down after a while but it’s very intense when it’s so new.”

The gravity in his words conveyed the depth of his commitment and the primal instincts that fueled it.

You were fucked in the head for sure because the realization that Cassian would fiercely protect you, even kill someone for you, sent a thrilling shiver down your spine, an unconventional yet undeniably arousing form of desire.

Without a word, you shuffled down, ready to express your gratitude and desire in a way that words could never fully convey, letting your mouth and hands express your love and gratitude.

—

For almost three weeks, you reveled in the cocoon of intimacy, exploring every inch of each other's souls and bodies within the confines of your shared space. Cassian's presence became a comforting constant, and there wasn't a single room in the house that he hadn’t fucked you in. Repeatedly.

However, the inevitable reality of his responsibilities tugged at Cassian's conscience. His jaw tightened, and his eyes darkening slightly as he confessed,

“I hate to say this, baby, but I have to go back. My family is looking for me, and they're worried.”

A pout formed on your lips as the idea of him leaving weighed heavily on your heart.

“You really gotta go?” Your doe-eyes mirrored the sadness and pain of his departure, glossing over in tears at the thought of him not being by your side.

One look into your eyes and he knew there was no chance he could leave you.

“You know what, fuck that. There's no way I'm leaving you. So how would you feel about meeting my family?”

Cassian dropping the idea of meeting his family made you think. Would they like you? He always spoke highly of them, and it got you wondering if you'd measure up. You knew you weren't the brightest tool in the shed or however the saying went but you hoped they'd see something in you that's good enough for him. The old voices of your parents kept echoing in your head.

"You're only good if you keep your mouth shut."

"How did I end up with such a dumb daughter?"

"You’re prettier when you don't talk."

Cassian sensed your unease, and he gently took your hands, looking into your eyes with a reassuring smile.

“Hey, don't worry about a thing. My family will adore you as much as I do. You're more than enough, just the way you are.”

His words carried a sincerity that eased the knots in your stomach. You peppered kisses all over his face and mentally thanked him for the reassurance.

He laughed, kissing you and repeating those reassuring words until it was time to leave. Putting on a cute, blue summer dress, you skipped alongside him, blissfully unaware of the imposing aura he now exuded due to the fresh bond.

As the beautiful estate by the river came into view, you marveled at the picturesque landscape. Holding a homemade cake in one hand and Cassian's hand in the other, you both approached the door.

However, huge confusion struck as your eyes widened upon seeing who opened it.

🏷️ taglist: @justasillylittlegoofyguy

[sarah-bear706318]

Chasing Storms and Finding Love. Chapter:2

Summary: When Tyler's baby sister joins him and his team for a season she seems to catch the eye of a certain StormPar member much to her brothers dismay... will she listen listen to her big brother or follow her heart?

Pairing: Scott Miller X fem!reader, Tyler Owens x sister!reader

Warnings: Sneaking around, Pissed off Tyler, Love Struck Scott, ALOTS of kissing, A little age gap, Cussing, Drinking, Storms(duh), Falling in love, Slow burn

@nikkicloudie

If you wanna be tagged in future parts let me know!

The next morning you are awaken with banging on the door, seeing as you are not a morning person this was not the wake up call you wanted. "Tyler get the fucking door" you say still half asleep.

BANG BANG BANG

"Tyler get the damn door " you yell again to your brother turning over to see his bed empty. You groan while you get out of bed and stumble to answer the door, when you answer it you see your brother ready for the day with a big smile on his face. Your face not so friendly.

"Sorry I forgot the key, but I come with coffee" he says with a beaming smile trying to make you less mad, he knows how much you hate mornings so he's hoping the coffee will stop you from yelling to much. "You know instead of banging on the door like the swat team there are these things called phones you could have called loser" you say letting him in the room.

"Yeah I forgot that too" he says putting the coffees down on the table in between the beds. "Whatcha get me" you ask reaching for the coffee. He rolls his eyes knowing how picky you are about your coffee "Just what you like and how you like it an Iced Caramel Macchiato 2 pumps extra caramel made with almond milk extra cold foam and carmel drizzle" he says

"You are the best big brother all is forgiven as long as this coffee taste right" you say taking your first sip to check it. "You are so forgiven this coffee is better then sex" you say closing your eyes at the taste. "That is not something I never want to hear you ever again" your brother says.

You roll your eyes taking another sip of your coffee and picking up your phone to look at the time seeing that its a little before 7. "What time are we heading out?" you ask your brother. "I told the crew to meet us at the diner next door around 8 figure we can have some breakfast and make plan for the day. I also have something to talk to the crew about. You think you can be ready to go by then?" "Yeah I'll be ready by 7:55" you say with a smile while still sipping on your coffee.

True to your word you were ready to head out the door at 7:55. You knew this would be your first time on the Wranglers Youtube channel so you wanted to look cute, and you were hoping to see the tall cute guy from last night. You opped for a cute messy bun and light make up with one of your many UT Austin longhorn shirts and some shorts. You grab your bag and phone and head out with your brother to meet the crew.

As you're walking down stairs you see the cute tall guy with the ballcap from last night, and you cant help but smile.

Scotts POV:

Scott and Javi are standing by StormPar's truck when they see Y/N and Tyler making their way down. Scott feels the breath from his lungs get sucked out and his heart stop. "Hey Owens" Javi says as soon as the 2 of them get within speaking distance. As Y/N get closer Scott get his first up close view of her and all he can think of is how drop dead gorgeous she is.

He can see the freckles on her nose and cheek, the dimples when she smile, her pink full lips(man all he can think about how they would feel against his own lips) her bright green eyes. He can see the little nose ring along with a couple piercings in her ears and the tattoos she has on her legs and arms . He's not normally a guy that goes for girls with piercing and tattoos but she pull them off very well and looks classy not trashy. He catches himself wondering what other tattoos and piercings she may have that he can't see.

"Hey Javi and clipboard" Tyler says to the 2 men with a nod of his head. Scott rolls his eyes at the nickname and before he can say anything Y/n starts to speak "Tyler that was so rude" she says and smack her brother. His smile gets even bigger hearing her voice and the southern twang it has to it and also putting her brother in his place.

"Hey sorry about my rude ass brother I'm Y/n its nice to meet you" she holds her hand out to him "I'm Scott nice to meet you Y/n". Scott shakes her hand and he swears he feels electricity go through his body, and he sees a blush forming on her cheeks. You both held each other's gaze until Javi cleared his throat

"Hey Dr. Owens nice to see you again" he sees Y/n playfully roll her eyes at the formal title "Nice to see you too Javi but you do not have to call me Dr. How have you been" she asked while giving Javi a quick hug, Scott cant help but feel a twinge of jealously run through his body watching Javi wrap her in a hug.

"I've been good, its great that you're going to be here for the next few months, looking to be a great season and having someone with a PhD in the field will really come in handy for us" Javi says

"Us? Scott and Y/n say at the same time. Scott looks to Javi while Y/n looks to her brother both with a confused face.

"Yeah that's what I wanted to to talk to the crew about over breakfast" Tyler says looking between his sister and Scott. "While I was getiing your very very complicated coffee order" Tyler starts but is cut off by you, "Its really not complicated but go on" Y/n says to her brother "It really is but anyways Javi and I ran into to each other and started talking about how all the radars and data are giving reading of this being a very big season and maybe teaming up for some chases might be a help to both teams" Tyler says looking at his sister.

"First I've heard of it" Scott looks to Javi who puts in his hands in the air and says "It was just an idea and I was going to talk to you and run it by you this morning, so what do you think, Y/n is hella smart" Scott looks a tad annoyed by not being included in the first place but if he works with the wranglers that means he can spend more time with Y/n. Scott looks over to Tyler and his sister.

"So you have your doctorate in meteorology?" Scotts turns and ask Y/N

"Yeah I graduated from UT Austin just a couple months ago, I also studied a environmental science for a few semesters"

Scott stands there for another moment thinking. Working with Tyler and his crew was not something he wanted to do, they were reckless loud and got on his last nerve, but having someone with your educational background could be a big help. And getting to get to know you better would make it alot worth it.

"Fine but don't make me regret this either of you" Scott says looking at both Javi and Tyler Pointing his finger at them. When Scott looks over to Y/n he sees her are already looking at him with a smile, and he feels his heart skip a beat.

"Great I'll go talk to my crew and I'll let you know what they say" Tyler says has he reaches to shakes Javis hand then Scott's.

"It was nice to meet you Scott hopefully the crew is okay with everything and we'll be seeing a lot more of each other" Y/n says with a smile reaching to shake his hand again

"Yeah lets hope" Scott says with a smile reaching for her hand.

As Tyler and Y/n walk away Scotts eyes follow her. As much as he hated the idea of working with Tyler and his group of misfits he hoped the rest of the hillbillies would be on board he really wanted to spend more time with Y/n.

"Man don't even think about it" Scott hears Javi behind him.

"Don't think about what" Scott ask trying to act normal, while still looking your way

"Owens is very protective of his baby sister and he would kill you for even thinking about her"

Scott didn't reply he just kept his eyes on you watching away and heading across the parking lot to the diner. He could handle Owens.

Y/N POV:

As You and brother walk away and to the dinner your mind and body is filled with excitement, hopefully the crew would be ok with everything and you could spend more time with Scott.

Seeing Scott up close made your insides like jello. His tall muscular build, his blue eyes, dark hair, his chiseled jawline, his beautiful smile with the cutest dimples his deep voice, and man did he have arms for days. All you can think about about is how good they would feel wrapped around you and his lips on yours...

Tyler sees the small smile and a dopey look in your eyes and he doesn't like it. Scott of all people has caught his baby sisters eye and from what he could see she has caught his eye too.

"No" is all you hear as your brothers voice breaks you from your day dream. You look over to your brother and see him with a stern look on his face.

"What are you talking about Ty"

"I saw the looks you and clipboard were giving each other and its not happening not with him"

You came to a stop and looking to your brother. One thing about you is you don't take took kindly with people telling you want you can and can not do. You are a grown ass woman and could do as you please.

"Well Tyler last I checked I am a grown woman and do what I want, see who I want and make my own choices, now I'm hungry so stop playing big brother and hurry up" you say staring down your brother.

"I mean it Y/n no not him not happening"

"I mean it to I'm hungry hurry your ass"

Tyler rolls his eyes and points his finger at you "This isn't over" "Whatever" you say walking past him to go meet the crew and get some food.

As you make it to the diner you turn to look over your shoulder and see Scott looking at you, he shoots a wink and smile and walks to the other side of StormPars truck. You say a silent prayer the crew goes along with teaming up with StormPar!

[persevereforahappyending]

Luck Runs Out |Part 3|

Pairing: Mabel x Reader

Summary: When your luck runs out you unknowingly drag Mabel back into the life, she's so desperate to escape.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.7k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Epilogue

The first thing you felt was warmth, your first thought being maybe you weren’t dead. It was dark, you couldn’t feel the sunlight on your face, or any light shining in your eyes, maybe you were dead. Your fingers twitched, grazing against the soft fabric below you, you furrowed your brow, maybe you weren’t dead. You slowly opened your eyes, blinking to adjust to the darkness of a room you didn’t recognize. You started to push yourself up, quickly hissing at the pain in your shoulder making your drop back down, maybe you weren’t dead, there was no pain after death, unless you were in Tartarus, man that would suck.

“Hey,” a soft voice whispered. “Easy.” Then the most gorgeous face you had ever seen came into view, your breath hitched at seeing her beauty, the way the surrounding darkness seemed to bend to her will. Maybe you were dead, maybe this was Elysium, the only place that would be worthy of such beauty.

“Easy,” she whispered again. “My names Mabel.” You tried to smile at such a beautiful name, but the pain was becoming more prominent. “Take this.” She held up little blue pills to your mouth, usually you had better judgement than to take drugs from a random stranger, but you did as asked, opening your mouth just enough for her to pop in. You swallowed them, your body shaking as you quickly began to cough.

“I was going to get you water,” she said, a glass of water in hand. You tried to lean up, your mouth reaching for the water. “Easy,” she said again. She gently rested a hand on your chest, pushing you back down. She put one hand around the back of your head to help prop it up as she gently brought the glass to your lips.

“Thank you,” you finally rasped out after a few drinks. “Y/N.”

“I’m sorry?”

“My name.” You coughed some more needing another drink which Mabel happily provided. “My name is Y/N.”

She hummed and leaned back in a chair where you had to look down to be able to still see her. “What happened?” You asked, your voice still gravelly. You looked around, not recognizing anything in the room you were in. Scratching the soft material underneath you, you determined you were lying on a bed. With your limited vision you would guess that the room you were in was some sort of apartment.

“You don’t remember?” She questioned.

You scrunched your brow, thinking back to what happened, what could have happened to lead you to being in a stranger's bed. “It’s fuzzy.” Closing your eyes all you saw was darkness, feeling cold water hit you, a loud noise, distorted voices yelling but no faces coming into view, then pain. You winced, reaching your hand up to your shoulder, pausing when you saw the bandage wrapping around your entire arm.

“You were shot,” Mabel’s voice sounded far away.

Your eyes stayed on the bandage, flashes of the night coming back to you, you had been at work, you were on the boat. Your face contorted as you strained yourself trying to force the memories to return. You were on the boat, there was a storm, you were arguing with someone, the drugs went into the ocean, then it was just darkness.

“I-I-I was at work,” you said slowly. “We were on the boat,” you pressed a palm to your head as you pinched your eyes shut, “there was a storm, it was nighttime.”

“Sounds like a typical night for a drug smuggler,” Mabel scoffed.

Your eyes snapped open; you dropped your hand as you glared at Mabel. “I’m not a drug smuggler.”

“Yeah, cause the three packs of drugs my friends found with you was a coincidence.”

“I’m not a drug smuggler. I’m just-”

“Someone who smuggles drugs?”

You clenched your jaw, staring down Mabel, seeing that she wasn’t backing down you conceded, slowly letting out a breath. “You do what you got to with the hand you’re dealt.” You held Mabel’s gaze, your eyes suddenly wet, you were going to write it off as the pain meds not kicking in yet. “All I’ve done is try and survive.”

Mabel leaned back in her chair, her eyes never leaving you as she took in your response. You didn’t know Mabel, she might decide to call the cops, if she hadn’t already. Now that you were awake, she could push you out the door, tossing you out in the cold to fend against the wolves yourself. You wouldn’t blame Mabel for any choice she made, you deserved it, you worked for terrible people, and it would be in Mabel’s best interest to avoid you all together. Hell, she could return you to your boss, if they learned you survived you were sure they’d be happy to pay for your return, pay Mabel a pretty penny just to kill you again, not without making sure they were compensated for their missing drugs though.

Mabel suddenly got up from her chair, kneeling down on the floor next to your bedside as she looked for something. She popped back up with more of the same bandages and wrap that were around your wound. She started to reach for you when you instinctively moved away.

“What are you doing?” You asked, eyeing her, trying to decipher her intentions.

“It’s time to change your bandages,” she mumbled, sounding annoyed that you’d ask such a stupid question. “Doc said twice a day.”

“A doctor?” You jolted forward, ignoring the pain shooting through you and Mabel’s warm hand gently easing you back down. Your eyes darted around the place, just waiting for it to be swarmed with cops.

“Relax, he’s not going to say anything.”

“How do you know?” You stared into her eyes, she didn’t seem as annoyed anymore, she almost looked like she felt bad for you.

Her eyes darted to the side; her mouth partially hung open as she decided how much to tell you. “He’s in a similar line of business.” Her eyes dropped down to the clean bandages in her hands, her fingers fiddling with the edge.

“Oh,” you could only mumble.

Mabel cleared her throat, shaking her head as she looked back at you, but you didn’t miss how she was gripping the bandages. “Can you lift up your shirt?” She asked, her cheeks tinting red as the question left her mouth.

You gave a small nod, lifting off the shirt so it hung around your right arm and covered most of your front but left your injured arm exposed so she could change the bandages easily. Mabel got to work, shifting on the bedside as she leaned closer, slowly beginning to peel the old bandaging away. You sucked in a breath when her fingers grazed your skin, the simple touch seemed to warm you, or maybe you were still freezing from being in the ocean for so long and any human contact would feel like the most amazing thing ever.

“How long was I out?” You finally asked. You stared at Mabel, watching as she focused on cleaning the wound, being mindful not to try and cause you to much discomfort. A ghost of a smile found its way to your lips as you saw her eyebrows scrunched together and the way her freckles popped out when she crinkled her nose.

She tossed the dirty bandages into a trash bin, throwing the now dirty rag she used to clean your wound into the laundry hamper. She scrubbed her hands in the kitchen sink before quickly finding her way back to your side, starting to unravel the new bandages. “About a day,” she finally answered. “The boys found you yesterday morning, considering you’re still alive I assume you were shot the night before.” She gently began applying the new bandage and wrapping. “It’s actually late afternoon now,” she tapped her phone checking the time. “You were barely conscious when they got your aboard their boat, so you’ve been out for over twenty-four hours.”

“The boys?” You didn’t like the idea of more people knowing about you, Mabel was already at risk for helping you. You didn’t want more people to be at risk because they decided to save your life, the more people who knew you survived also meant more people who could turn you in.

“My ex, his brother, and their crew,” she finished the last of the wrapping up then slipped back into the chair at your bedside. You got your head back through the hole of the shirt but struggled with your injured arm. Mabel got up and helped gently guide it into the arm hole while you pulled the shirt down.

“They’re fisherman?” You focused on the word crew. You really shouldn’t have been so surprised; besides the coastguard it wasn’t like anyone else would have been out on the water that early after such a big storm.

“The Finestkind,” she smiled. You quickly frowned, your eyes widening at the boat’s name. “You know them?”

You sighed, reluctantly nodding. “They aren’t my biggest fan.” Mabel raised an eyebrow, clearly sensing a story there. “We’re competitors, me and my crew have the nicer boat, bring in larger catches, and they don’t like it.”

“Because I’m sure you never instigate it,” she deadpanned.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the way she already clocked you. “I mean,” you rolled your head to the side. “Maybe a little.”

“So, what did you do to get yourself shot?” Mabel asked, narrowing her eyes as she watched you.

You sucked in a breath, your fingers began to play with the blanket over you, it was a really soft blanket. “I dropped the shipment.”

Her eyes widened. “You mean…”

You nodded. “The storm was raging, and the load was too heavy, it was going to tip us.” You refused to meet her gaze as flashes from that night came back to you, you could almost feel the cold water coming down again. “I hit the button to release the product and the next thing I know I was in the ocean, sinking to the bottom.”

“You did the right thing.” You scoffed; you almost never did the right thing. “Trying to save your life and your crews isn’t a bad thing.”

“Well look where that got me.” You saw flashes of yourself on the deck, the rain pouring down on you, the waves rocking the boat violently, and in front of you stood your captain, pointing a gun at your head. “My own captain shot me,” you let out a humorless chuckle.

You still refused to look at Mabel, too deep into question every decision you’ve ever made that led you to where you were right now. You tried to do the right thing for once, you tried to save lives, the drugs weren’t worth dying for, you still believed that. The one time you tried to do something good though it ended with you almost dying. You got lucky, you always got lucky, your entire life could be summed up by being lucky. Some would say you were lucky to survive the gunshot, lucky to survive going overboard and being in the ocean for so long, lucky to be found, lucky to be found by the people who did. If that was all due to you being lucky, how much time before your luck ran out? It was only a matter of time and what would be the consequences, who would pay the price?

“What’s with the necklace?” Mabel’s voice snapped you back to reality. You furrowed your brow looking up at her finally before you realized she was talking about your trident necklace. “You worship Neptune or some shit?” She joked.

You laughed along with her. “I guess technically Neptune is his Roman counterpart, but I’ve always been more of a Greek mythology nerd.”

“Of course you are,” she shook her head. You couldn’t help but laugh along with her, no one understood your fascination with the gods and Greek mythology in general, they always just gave you a weird look. Mabel might have thought it was weird, but she didn’t seem to be judging you for it. “What’s your favorite book?” You opened your mouth, but she sat up in her chair, “Let me guess,” she said holding up a hand to silence you. “Percy Jackson.”

You chuckled, shaking your head, it was a good guess, it was usually everyone’s first guess or what they assumed when they learned about your interest. “Percy’s great,” you admitted. “But actually, The Odyssey.”

“Really?” She raised her eyebrows clearly not having expected that.

“The story of Odysseus,” you let your head flop back onto the pillow, unable to stop smiling. “It’s just incredible.”

“I get that it’s a classic but what’s so great about it?”

A large smile broke out on your face, Mabel was going to regret that. “He’s just such a great hero,” you sighed. “He’s just a man but he fights all these monsters, he travels the sea, having to deal of the wrath of gods, he fights against all of it, all just so he can return home.” You paused, realizing you had been rambling, but then you caught Mabel’s eyes, seeing her leaning forward, you had her full attention. “Multiple ladies try and seduce him, he could just stay safe on an island with Calypso, but he doesn’t, because he loves his wife. For ten years he fights to return to his family because he just loves his wife and son that much.”

“Okay, he does sound pretty cool,” she admitted with a smile. “Is that why you became a fisherman?”

You shrugged. “I’ve always loved the water and travel, plus didn’t have many options, couldn’t afford school,” you looked down in shame.

“And the drugs,” Mabel asked, seeming hesitant to shift back to that topic.

You refused to meet her eyes again. “Sometimes despite our best-efforts family just tries to drag you under with them.”

“I get it,” she whispered, you looked up, seeing her nervously playing with her fingers. “I get it.”

“Do you know what happened to the drugs? I know I was floating on a couple packs.” You held your breath as you awaited her answer, silently pleading they just left them in the ocean, destined to wash ashore or be pulled further out to sea.

“They’re on the boat.”

You let out a sigh. “They need to get rid of them, they should get rid of them. If anyone discovers they have them, they are screwed.” You stared Mabel in the eyes, trying to keep your voice from shaking. “I do not work for good people; they will kill everyone to keep the business running.”

“We’ll take care of it when they get back, it’ll be a few days, they’re out on a job.” You nodded, gripping the blanket around you tighter to hide your shaking hands. “Tell me more about Odysseus?” Mabel said softly. You scrunched your brow as you stared at her in disbelief, no one ever asked you to continue. “I’m serious, tell me more about this epic adventure.”

You smiled, your eyes shining as you looked at her. “Well, I consider it more of an epic love story.”

“But he fights monsters and stuff, right? How is that not an adventure?”

“It’s both!”

Mabel playfully rolled her eyes. “I’m serious,” you said, sitting up a little more. “The entire story is about him fighting against all odds to return to his love, despite all his obstacles and despite more than one lovely lady trying to seduce him,” Mabel silently chuckled. “His heart always belongs to Penelope.”

“Well, I’ve never read it.” You gasped in faux offense. Most people now and days hadn’t read it, they heard of it, they knew of Odysseus, but they didn’t know his story, not fully. “But convince me.”

Your eyes lit up, you had a soft smile on your face, you felt your cheeks heat up, here you were injured, a pretty girl taking care of you and asking you to tell her all about your favorite story. For a second you thought maybe you really were in Elysium, maybe you really died the other night. If this were your afterlife though, you couldn’t complain. “So, it starts off with Odysseus being away, off fighting a war for ten years…”

[tender-rosiey]

I know I know I know! How about flirting headcanons with Nanami Toji and Gojo? They’ve caught the feelz for someone and want to express their newfound interest!

— HOW DO THEY FLIRT?

includes gojo, nanami and toji

a/n: suffice to say that I got carried away also so many people with beautiful minds pls you’re a genius

GOJO SATORU:

you must be one hell of a beautiful person inside out for gojo to catch them feels for you, my dear

so allow me to ask you on a date ;)

okay so, now gojo’s heart is undeniably fluttering and he has to make it known

he won’t even hesitate

BUT I do think that gojo’s flirting can be a bit annoying and sometimes endearing

he is the type to place your stuff on the top shelf if you are short, so he can make fun of your height

similarly, the type to place it in the most bottom drawer so you have to crouch to get it so he can also make fun of your height (even if it’s the same case for himself)

he is such a tease

okay so back to the flirting, HE IS SO ANNOYING ABOUT IT TO THE POINT IT’S JUST TEASING

exhibit a:

“GOJO, DID YOU EAT MY CHEESECAKE?!”

said man takes the fork out of his mouth and innocently stares at you; he places the plate down along with the fork, “I would never!”

“gojo, it literally said ‘y/n’s’, why would you eat it?” you huff, “you have more than enough money to buy seven of it for yourself.”

you stomp away, not waiting for a response cause, frankly, if you stayed in front of him any longer, you will hit him in the face and stab him with the fork he used while eating your precious and beautiful late cheesecake.

“aw, come on, sweets; I was hungry,” he pouts, walking after you, “would you rather I die of starvation?”

“yes.”

he whines and clutches his chest.

“this is not funny, gojo; I was looking forward to eating it all day,” you mumble and look at your foot and gojo’s heart clenches with guilt.

maybe he could’ve found another way to mess with you.

you harshly kick him in the shin which makes him wince lightly, “I am mad at you.”

“I will make it up to you, I promise,” he says before warping out of your sight.

“good riddance, asshole.”

“I am back! did you miss me?” he beams, reappearing once again but this time beside your fridge. you gag in disgust and he ignores it.

“can you check the fridge for me?” he says sweetly to you and you shake your head.

a whine escapes his lips, “I swear it will be worth your time just open the fridge!”

you sigh, irritated and stand up to walk to the fridge, “I will hit you if it’s a prank,” you murmur and open the fridge.

“I remembered that I have a mission soon, enjoy your cheesecakes!” and he is nowhere to be seen. the only thing you can see is seven cheesecakes with a note that says “sorry, sweets; just wanted to mess with you!”

he can also be very sweet and showers you IN TOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNSSS of compliments

exhibit a:

“gojo,” you sternly say, “you can’t keep getting me gifts! i mean thank you but this is more than enough!” you sigh, “you are wasting your money!”

gojo looks at the 8 designer boxes, each containing an outfit with matching accessories, then looks at you, “I don’t think I am wasting money if it’s on you.”

“I don’t need all of this!”

“but you would look so pretty in all of them, I just know it,” his glasses rest on the bridge of his nose as he winks at you.

you splutter, “s-save it for your future lover!”

“I am giving them to my future lover”

exhibit b:

“Y/NNNNNN!”

“gojo, it’s 6am please.”

“but you look super good and drop-dead gorgeous,” he grins, “has anyone ever told you that?”

“has anyone told you that your wrinkles are starting to show?” you smile— more like smirk back, but the man is unaffected.

he clears his throat before leaning on his palm, “you look like a sexy motorcycle that goes vroom vroom.”

you are caught so off-guard that you snort before you start laughing, “w-where did you even hear that?” you wheeze.

meanwhile, gojo just feels like he has completed his life goal and can ascend to heaven peacefully after seeing you laugh like this.

to sum up

gojo’s flirting mainly consists of teasing, jokes and awful pick-up lines that make you laugh

in addition to that, he becomes a little protective of you

like when you are walking in the streets, I just whole heartedly believe that he is the type to pull you to the sidewalk

and he isn’t even obvious about it

like y’all are just walking and laughing about it so he gets a little ahead of you in attempt to be more dramatic with his gestures

but when he is done instead of returning to the side near the sidewalk, he starts walking on the side near the street

IT’S THE HIDDEN THINGS

also sometimes you catch him smiling at someone who bothered you, but you can SEE that smile is nowhere near friendly

he also literally screams about his attraction to you

for example, you hug

then literally after you let go he goes, “THIS IS THE HEIGHT OF LUXURY!”

NANAMI KENTO:

your honor, @callmemirro is madly in love with him and so am I

of course, a word we connect to this man is “respectful”

and he is so respectful even in his approach about liking you

his flirting is a bit more on the subtle side like small little acts of services

exhibit a:

“good morning, nanami!” you beam at the man who just entered.

he returns the greeting with a small smile of his own, “good morning, y/n,” he takes a seat in front of you and takes out two sandwiches that look so delicious.

but you would rather die than get caught staring at the poor man’s food.

“I got you this sandwich; I noticed it had your favorite fillings,” he says putting it in front of you along with your favorite juice.

a grin takes over your face, but your cheeks heat up as you lightly protest, “I appreciate it a lot, but you didn’t have to do that though!”

“I wanted to, plus I think seeing you happy is more than a fair trade for a few yen,” he insists and you silently unwrap the sandwich.

“…thank you,” you murmur.

he hums, “it’s nothing,” digging into his own sandwich.

exhibit b:

the sun was scorching hot and you were about to throw yourself out of a window on the 76th floor just to feel the wind on your skin.

just as you were deciding which tower will you jump off it, you feel a gentle breeze on your face. you open your eyes to see nanami fanning you with a paper fan he made with the newspaper he was reading.

“feel better?” he asks.

you take another paper out of the same newspaper and make a fan as well and start fanning him. his eyes widen slightly, “are you considering this a competition?”

“no, it’s just not fair if I am the only one who isn’t suffering because of the heat,” you smile and he nods, but you can see that his movement faltered a bit when he cleared his throat, looking away.

“oh my god, nanamin and y/n are being lovey dovey.”

“gojo-sensei, please shut up so we don’t get caught.”

and with a sprinkle of quality time

nanami is the type of person you can always rely on and count on them being there for you

he is always there whenever you’re having a hard time and is a rather comforting presence to be around even if he is silent

exhibit a:

recently, a friend of yours was sent on a mission and sadly lost their life. in attempt to feel better, you went for a walk. once you sat on the bench, tears flooded your eyes.

you hear light footsteps approach you and the bench creaks. you look to your side and see nanami beside you. you lean your head on his shoulder, trying to even your breathing.

his hand hovers over your own, hesitant to hold it. you take the initiative to hold his hand and right after that, he relaxes a bit, he starts rubbing your hand with his thumb.

neither of you said anything, but being in each other’s presence was helpful enough.

ANYWAYS, this is about flirting not comforting so sorry baby boos

i also think he would compliment you but NOT COMPLETELY DROWN YOU IN THEM EVERY SINGLE MOMENT LIKE A CERTAIN WHITE HAIRED MAN

his compliments are really heartfelt too

exhibit a:

you’re getting anxious about how you look in the middle of the party. is your hair messed up? is your make-up smudged? do you look miserable?

what if nanami sees you like this?—

“nanami, see! i told you y/n would be here! hi y/n!” gojo screams and you awkwardly wave at him.

nanami looks frozen in place before he quickly composed himself and walks towards you. you both look into each other eyes for a moment, but then he looks away, “you look very beautiful,” soon he looks eyes with you, “I think the stars are very envious of your beauty.”

your cheeks heat up and you let out a quick and nervous, “t-thank you!” which makes the blonde chuckle lightly.

“ugh I am so single,” gojo whines on the other side of the room.

so, subtle, respectful and heartfelt is what his flirting is

he also remembers most of what you say, like even if you briefly mention your favorite restaurant or a place you want to visit

another man I think gets protective but like low-key

FOR EXAMPLE

let’s say you guys are eating lunch together and you drop something on the ground and bend down to get it

HE COVERS THE SHARP EDGE OF THE TABLE WITH HIS HAND SO YOU DON’T GET HURT IF YOU BUMP YOUR HEAD

LIKE KILL ME WHY ARE YOU SO SWEET

also is the type to stare at anyone who makes you uncomfortable until they get uncomfortable and leave you alone

FUSHIGURO TOJI:

hot

very hot big man

i think he might have amazing hugs

anyways

so uh

his flirting is rather straightforward

I feel like he is just the type not to beat around the bush

also doesn’t exactly flirt, he just becomes significantly softer and calmer

acts of service BIG TIME

like opening jars, having your back in a fight, squashing that one little bug that’s scaring you, and glaring at the very rude lady who you were talking to

AND SUCKER PUNCHING ANYONE WHO DARES MESS WITH YOU

exhibit a:

“all I said is that they have a nice as—“

the guy soon meets the ground harshly, to the point his nose bleeds.

toji hisses, “I suggest you go take a lesson in manners, but I don’t think you have the brains to understand anything anyways so it will be a waste of money.”

toji stares at the guy, who’s tearing up, start running away. meanwhile, you are just behind toji, completely speechless, “wow, toji; with just one punch?”

he smirks and puffs his chest until he feels you touch his bicep and looks at you, “hey— what’re you doing?”

“that’s a lot of muscles,” you say in awe, squeezing it lightly.

he coughs lightly before nodding, “there should be or my training would be for nothing.”

“can I touch your abs too?”

you think he might be embarrassed because he is looking away, but you’re probably imagining it. especially that barely visible redness on his cheeks.

also about muscle squeezing, y’all some people straight up SQUEEZE IT SO HARD OR EVEN HIT

like I was flexing mine once for my friend and she just went GRAB

anyways if we are going to talk about an instance of actual flirting then it’s probably something like this

exhibit a:

“toji, your hands are so big; what the hell?!”

he glanced at you before putting it up, “how about you compare them? maybe they aren’t as big as you think.”

you huff before placing your hand on his, “see?! it’s huge!”

he intertwined your fingers before rolling his eyes, “how unfortunate.”

you stare at your intertwined hands, and knowing that anyone from even a mile away can tell that you’re flustered.

“what restaurant do you wanna go to?” he asks nonchalantly.

you snap out of your daze, “wait— you have the money to take us out?”

he glares at you before pinching your nose, “you’re annoying; I hope you know that.”

BUT BUT HE WON’T INITIATE SOMETHING LIKE THAT UNLESS HE WAS SURE YOU HAD SOMETHING FOR HIM TOO

like at the very beginning of his catching feels era, it’s mostly like I said being softer and a bit more caring towards you

later on, the flirty actions pop up such as the hands thing above

or maybe even giving you his jacket when you are cold

and if y’all are in the pinning era then you best believe he will take your hands and put them in his pockets to warm them up

but no way is he going to make eye-contact

I feel like he will be a little shy and awkward with romantic gestures

however, in the end, the wiki page does say that he is a confident man so expect a few bold moves here or there

something like this

exhibit a:

you’re walking towards the spot you agreed to meet at. today, you and toji were supposed to stargaze together and settled on going to that really nice park you passed by once.

the closer you get to him, you notice the set up. the picnic blanket, the food, the candles, and the surprisingly well dressed man who is toji.

“I am here,” you say and he turns to look at you.

“oh finally, do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting?…”

he is quiet for a moment before a small smirks appears on his face. he walks towards you, and tilts your chin up.

his lips graze your ear as he says, “you really are a sight for sore eyes, y’know.”

honestly, I think whenever you start liking someone, you just naturally develop the want to protect them

so once again, he gets protective, but I think his protectiveness is a lot bolder and obvious than the rest here

as we have seen in the very first exhibit, he just punches his way through life

these muscles ain’t for nothing, bby

also imagine having a 6ft bulky man glaring daggers at you and he is not even trying to hide it

all of that is being directed at the person who dared to take the last box of your favorite snack in the store

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or i will break your toes

[gabessquishytum]

Alright alright. Heres another. How about: single dads au. Dream has just divorced Calliope. Her job means that she's traveling all over the world right now and as much as she wants to be in Orpheus's life, that's very irregular. Dream works from home. He's an artist who does work for himself but also on commission. He hasn't painted for fun since the fighting started with Calliope 6 months before the big break up. He's still taking work painting book covers and such. But it's not fun anymore. It all feels... flat.

Orpheus is in grade school and his thing is music. He has perfect pitch. Dream tries to relate but even music feels flat since his muse left of course.

He goes in for a parent teacher conference. Orpheus begged him to come because he needs to talk to his music teacher and be proud of Orpheus's perfect grade in the class. So Dream comes. There's one other kid there waiting his turn for the music teacher but he looks miserable, and his parent is nowhere to be found. There's someone in the room already so Dream and Orpheus sit down with this kid and wait. Orpheus runs off to the bathroom so Dream strikes up a conversation with the kid, whose name is Robyn and he's just awful at music he says. Dream, who is much better with kids than with anyone else really, tells him a secret - he's not very good at music either. Robyn is mystified how the parent of the best kid in class could suck at music. Dream learns that Robyn's dad is late getting here because he had work. And he won't be upset that Robyn is doing poorly but Robyn thinks he should be, he's upset enough about his grade for the both of them. Just as they're getting friendly, Orpheus cames back with another man, who he has obviously won over and is talking with animatedly.

Robyn lights up and runs over to his dad, hugging his leg. Hob has finally arrived. He grunts as Robyn runs into him and bends down to pick him up, even though the boy is like 8 or so. Hob settles Robyn against his substantial hip, the kid curling a little around Hob's belly. Robyn stage whispers to him that Orpheus is the best kid in music but apparently his dad can't hold a tune isn't that funny?

Dream and Hob look at each other as Hob chuckles, and Dream has two sudden realizations at once. 1) Dream hasn't felt this kind of attraction to a man, ever. He knew he could like men but it seemed just not as strong as attraction to women. But apparently that was because he'd never been attracted to a strong fat man before because holy shit would Dream like to be lifted like that against that belly. 2) Dream needs to get his hands on some clay right now and sculpt him. Suddenly it makes sense his art felt flat, it was literally 2 dimensional. And here is Hob taking up space fully in 3 dimensions and Dream needs to learn to sculpt right now to create his likeness.

🍰🐲

Dad Hob with an actual dad bod??? HELLO. This is a fat dad appreciation blog now.

Dream being good with kids is also such an underrated thing. He definitely puts Robyn at ease about the whole music grade situation (and he definitely thinks that no 8 year old should be worrying about grades, as he keeps telling Orpheus). When Hob sees Dream for the first time, he's immediately so enamoured with him, because anyone who Robyn takes a shine to must be an amazing person. It helps that Dream is drop-dead gorgeous.

Meanwhile Dream is wondering if it would be weird and insane to ask Hob to model for him right now. He's never even done a full sculpture before but he wants to get into his studio, have Hob pose, and just get to work. He's definitely staring at all the soft curves, the beautiful hint of double chin, the lovely slope of his belly. He just hopes that Hob won't get the wrong idea!!

They keep meeting in between appointments with the teachers, and all four of them head to the snack table that the PTA have organised. Robyn and Orpheus take their cupcakes and go play with some of classmates, and Dream is thrilled to be left alone with Hob!!!

"I'm an artist." Dream blurts out. "And i hope this isn't odd or intrusive, but. Looking at you has given me more inspiration than I have found in many months."

Hob blushes, which possibly makes him even more lovely. The colour in his cheeks floods all the way down to his neck, and probably goes even further down his chest.

"Creativity runs in your family, huh?" Hob tugs on his ear shyly. "Robyn loves his art. A whole lot more than music, bless him."

"You would both be welcome to come to my studio. Orpheus will be there, of course." Dream sweeps his gaze once more up and down over Hob’s figure. "I would not do anything to make you uncomfortable, I promise."

Hob leans in close. He smells so fucking good, like winter spices. Dream’s mind is flooded with images in which Hob lifts him clear off the floor and holds him against his own plush form. It's Dream’s turn to blush. Hob is so close, Dream could bury himself in that magnificent soft chest.

"I'm far from uncomfortable. Watching you go through a kind of sexual awakening has been a pleasure." He winks, and pulls away. The kids are coming back over. "I'll give you my number, and we'll arrange something. Okay?"

Of course the main theme of the evening involves both Hob and Dream being proud of their respective sons and showering them in praise. But it would be fair to say that both of them are very much looking forward to meeting again... perhaps in more intimate circumstances?

[ashwhowrites]

Bratty Eddie's ex

Half of it is proofread. I'll do it later

Angst to smut to fluff

"Okay so remember we need to leave once I say because I have that important meeting tomorrow morning then we have to meet the realtor for the house, you cannot be late, got it?"

"Okay" Eddie said smiling, watching as she zipped up his jacket and pecked his lips

"alright let's go"

The couple raced out of their small trailer and out to their car. Heading to the party they were invited to.

It didn't take long for Eddie to get tipsy, dancing in the middle of the living room. Not quite sure where his girlfriend was at the moment.

"Eddie Munson?" Eddie's ears perked up when he heard his name, turning around. Eyes bulging out of his head as he saw his ex from years ago

"holy shit! Jess" He laughed, throwing his arms around her and she hugged him. Jess was his ex from before he met Y/N. The last woman he was ever his old self with. Back when he was dominant, controlling and mean.

"wow! I can't believe I ran into you. How have you been?" She asked over the music

"so good! I have a girlfriend and we are looking at a house tomorrow together! How are you?" He explained happily. He was excited about his future with Y/N. Living in a new home together, making a house their own.

"that's amazing. Good for you. I'm doing well" she smiled, a hand landing on his arm as she congratulated him.

"Eddie hey! Are you ready to go?" Y/N came out of nowhere. Eyes glaring at the girls hand on Eddie's arm.

"I'm actually catching up with an old friend right now. Can we stay a tad bit longer?" He asked, puppy eyes asking her softly

"actually ex-girlfriend" Jess said with a smirk, she didn't enjoy the way Eddie's new girlfriend was drop dead gorgeous.

"oh ex girlfriend? That's....great. I wish we could but it's already late. Maybe another time" Y/N said sharply. Throwing Eddie a look, it was time to leave now. But his eyes looked so soft and pleading.

"five minutes" she snapped, walking off to the car.

"Is she always controlling like that? The Eddie I knew didn't ever take demands from a girl. That would totally take a jab at his manhood" Jess laughed. Eddie felt himself growing uncomfortable. He knew his girlfriend was pissed but he also felt like Jess was right. He was a man and he was in charge of himself. Y/N did tend to control him a lot, but he knew she only did because he liked it. But did a part of him miss being the one in charge? Being the one who told how it was and forced women to comply with his demands?

"I'll be right back" he said to Jess. Downing the rest of his drink as he walked out to the car. The alcohol in his system was definitely a factor for the dumbest decision he was about to make

"are you ready?" She asked, unlocking the car

"I want to stay" he said. Standing his ground

"Eddie, we can't. It's already midnight and I have to be up at 7 for my meeting and you need to be ready by 8:30" she explained. She already had this conversation with him before they even left.

"I don't care. I want to stay. I don't need your permission. I can take care of myself and make my own decisions. I am capable of doing shit without you. I'm letting you know that I'm staying" he said as strongly as he could. Crossing his arms as he looked down at her

"Knock it off. Get in the car Eddie" she snapped. She was slowly losing her temper. She didn't have time for his attitude.

"Y/N, I said I am staying. I'm not asking you, I'm telling you. Jess can bring me home" he growled back. His eyes squinting at her

For once in their relationship Eddie saw something in her change. Watching as her body deflated and her eyes cracking. Was she....was she upset? Her anger faded, he could see her eyes getting wet. Was she going to cry? Fuck, she doesn't cry. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"consider me told, have fun then Edward" she said, voice cracking as she got in the car, not looking back as she drove home

Edward? She never calls him Edward. He felt his throat close up. He made her upset. He's never once made her upset. Mad? Definitely. Annoyed? All the time. But actually upset and hurting her feelings? He's never done that.

~~

"don't fucking cry" she whispered to herself. Slamming the car door as she walked into the trailer.

He's never once called her by her first name since they first started dating. But hearing him call her by her first name while his ex-girlfriend sat in the party waiting for him to come back hurt her way more than she would have liked to admit. A fling from the past shows up and suddenly she's just Y/N? She usually never gets upset about these things. She knew Eddie loved her and the trust they had was unbreakable. She didn't care that he wanted to stay, it was the fact he demanded it all because Jess was there. Her Eddie loved being submissive and not making his own decisions. He liked to be taken care of, he didn't have it as a child and she was trying to pick up the pieces. He was dominant before her, she knew that. She had a feeling Jess reminded him back to when he was in charge of everything. Did he miss it? Did he actually not enjoy having her as his mommy anymore? Was she actually controlling and demanding? She just tried to look out for him but maybe she's doing it in the wrong way?

A new feeling of insecurity was filling her as she changed into her pajamas. She pulled away the blankets, getting her side ready as she moved to Eddie's side. Preparing to prep his side for bed but stopped. He wanted to take care of himself? Fine. She fixed his side neatly, crawling to her side and cuddling under the covers. Making sure her back was to his side. She didn't want the reminder that he wasn't home.

~~

Eddie was definitely even more drunk when Jess dropped him off. Hanging his head as he saw the trailer coming up

"I think I made her sad" he admitted, a pout on his lips as he unbuckled his seatbelt

"who cares? You are Eddie Munson. You loved making girls cry remember?" She laughed

"that's not me anymore. She....she changed me for the better. I love her and I hurt her feelings" he was disappointed in himself.

"look Eddie, you are a grown up. You don't need mommy to tell you when to go to bed and have a curfew" she mocked. But Eddie hated the way it made him feel. She wasn't "mommy" because she controlled everything. She was "mommy" because she loved him unconditionally. She loved him through his abuse, trauma, temper tantrums, and everything else that made him so fucked up. And he basically told her he didn't need her.

"you don't get it" he said sadly, even more disappointed in himself for staying with an ex when he knew he should have gone home. He could be in her arms, sleeping and dreaming of her. Not sitting in his ex's car as she talked down on his relationship.

He removed himself from her car, walking into the silent house. Not a single light on, that was weird. She always left the kitchen light on for him. He swallowed the lump in his throat. Quietly removing his shoes. His eyes catching the clock on the microwave

2:30

Shit, he thought to himself. He slowly walked into the bedroom, another dark and silent room. He switched on the lamp, seeing her sleeping body cuddled into the blankets. Her back facing him. He noticed his side of the bed was spotless, not pulled, waiting for his arrival. His sad eyes looked from her to the bed and back to her, was he even welcomed to sleep here? He changed into new boxers and pulled the sheets, crawling beside her. Hesitantly moving himself closer. Touching her shoulder as he traced his palm down her arm and around her waist.

"mommy?" He squeaked out softly. A tiny bit of hope that she was awake.

He sighed to himself as he got no answer. Kissing her shoulder softly as he closed his eyes.

~~

Y/N woke up to her alarm blaring. Smashing it off, pissed that she couldn't sleep off her attitude. She looked over and saw Eddie snoring beside her. His adorable face shoved in his pillow, and his hand inches away from where her body was. She tore her eyes away and got herself ready for work.

Not bothering to wake him up and went out the door.

~~

Eddie groaned as he felt his head start to pound. Rolling over to search for his girlfriends body. Frowning when he didn't feel her. He rubbed his eyes as he blinked to the now bright room. Her side of the bed was made, her pajamas folded on her pillow. He sat up and looked around the room. Feeling the need to throw up, he raced to their bathroom. Puking out everything in his body from the night before.

"BABY?" he screamed, holding his hair back as he puked harder. She always helped him when he was hungover. Tying his hair back as she rubbed his back. Puking made him panic. And she somehow always knew how to calm him down.

He sniffled as he heard no response. Reminding himself he was okay. Flushing the toilet and moving to the sink to brush his teeth. He spit out his toothpaste and took out medicine from the cabinet. Sticking his mouth under the faucet to swallow the pills.

He held his head as he moved into the kitchen, his eyes looking at the clock

9:00

"SHIT" he panicked, running into the bedroom. Throwing on any clean clothes he could find. He was late, she was going to kill him.

He raced to his car, throwing it in drive as he sped to the house. His head was still pounding as he got out of the car. Racing into the house

"so the bedroom and bathroom are connected right?"

He sighed in relief hearing her voice. He coughed as he walked up to them.

"I'm so sorry I'm late" he apologized to the realtor, but mostly he meant it for her. He hated that she refused to look at him. His hand slowly moved to grasp hers. Flinching as she crossed her arms the second she felt his hand. He swallowed another lump in his throat. Following behind silently as she talked with the realtor, touring the small house.

~~

He followed behind her as they drove back to their trailer. Quickly getting out as she walked to the front door

"can we talk?" He asked, walking in behind her

"about what?" She said nonchalantly. Sitting on the couch as she turned on the tv

"last night?"

"nothing to talk about Eddie. You wanted to stay and I wanted to leave. That's that" she said, a bitter smile

"are you...mad?" He asked, sitting next to her

"nope" her eyes glued to the tv

He sighed and turned it off, but her eyes never moved to him

"are you sad?"

"I don't get sad" she snapped, arms crossing over her chest

"did I hurt your feelings?" He tried again

"no Eddie. I don't give a shit okay? Drop it" she growled, walking to their bedroom and slamming the door.

She wasn't used to her chest hurting when she looked at him. She didn't know why it seemed to hurt so fucking bad. She thought he enjoyed their dynamic, that he liked how she was so different compared to his past relationships. But maybe they've been doing too long. And he didn't like it anymore.

~~

Eddie stared at the door. Heart pounding. He hasn't been in this position before. He has never seen her so stuck in her own head. Usually he's the one upset and she makes it better with soft touches and a gentle kiss. But he can't even touch her without her flinching away. He honestly didn't think there was anything in the world that could break her down. And he never thought he'd be the one thing.

He knocked worriedly on the door

"I'm getting scared. Please talk to me. I just don't know what to do" he pouted, refusing to stop knocking until she opened the damn door

"figure it out Eddie. Apparently you know what's best for you and can make your own decisions" he flinched at her harsh tone.

Eddie thought long and hard of a plan. Whenever she was mad at him, she'd punish him and they'd be fine. Maybe he needed to beg for a punishment. Help her get the anger out of her system

~~

Around dinner she came out. Cooking silently as she stared at the water boiling

"Eddie, can you grab the sauce from the cabinet?" She asked, her eyes not moving away from the pot

"your legs work" he smirked. Waiting patiently to see how she would react. His smirk fell the second she sighed, moving quietly to the cabinet and grabbing the sauce.

~~

"Eddie can you clean your dish please?" She asked, her eyes looking down at the dirty plate she was scrubbing

"make me" he snapped. Praying she'd turn around with the familiar fire in her eyes.

But just like earlier, she sighed to herself and grabbed his plate off the table, throwing it in the sink as she cleaned it, no words.

~~

"can..can you help me?" He asked shyly, looking up at her as he fixed the broken tile in their bathroom

"thought you could do shit without me" she snapped

Walking past him and back into the bedroom

Yep, he definitely fucked up

~~

Just like the night before he found his side of the bed untouched

He watched as she got undressed. Staring at her naked skin as she threw on her pajamas.

Maybe he just needed to ask?

"mommy, can...can we....have sex?" He squeaked out, nervously biting his lip as he watched her lay down. Stripping his own self down to his boxers

"you can take care of yourself remember" turning her back to him again as she closed her eyes.

He couldn't handle another night with her being so mad at him. He grabbed her shoulder and turned her on her back. Throwing himself on her lap. Trapping her arms under him as he trapped her underneath him

"I'm sorry okay? I don't like this. I don't know what you are thinking or feeling. I'm sorry for everything, for talking back, for staying with Jess" to be fair, he wasn't quite sure what he was apologizing for but he felt like Jess was the main reason

"that's not what I need an apology for" he hated how weak her voice sounded. It was always so strong and confident

"what do you need it for? I will gladly beg for forgiveness. Please let me make this better" he begged. He could feel his eyes getting wet as she looked up at him. That distant look in her eyes

"are you happy with me?" He swore he could hear insecurity in her voice

"of course I am" he said instantly, "why would you ask that?"

"you....you called me Y/N for the first time in like two years. You never call me that. I'm not stupid Eddie, I know that Jess said something to make you snap on me. And I just....I felt like it made you realize you didn't like how we were. That you missed being on top and in charge of everything.... that you don't care for me to be your mommy anymore.... I don't feel good enough anymore Eddie okay? You obviously don't need me anymore and my work of putting you together is done. Fixed you up perfectly for other girls apparently. Tell me you hate how we work and tell me sober that you don't need me anymore so I can move on. Now get off of me" she snapped once she felt her eyes getting wet.

She refused to cry over this. She was confident and independent. If Eddie didn't want her anymore that's fine. She'll be gone in a blink of an eye. She didn't need him....she simply just really fucking wanted him.

Eddie could feel his own heart breaking as her eyes filled with tears. How fast her hard exterior was falling apart. Her arms flying as she squirmed underneath him, trying desperately to shove his body off of her

"no don't move on please don't" he cried, not bothering to hide the fact he was bursting into tears over this

"I love you. I only love you. I was stupid and drunk. I don't like being that old Eddie anymore. I love worshipping you. I need you, and I will always fucking need you. I'm sorry for saying stupid shit I didn't mean. I don't like taking care of myself. I love how we work. I love the way you punish me and ruin me. Test my limits and make me beg. I love that you are my mommy and take the best care of me. I've never felt this much love from anyone ever. You fix me more every day, but I'm fixing myself for you. I don't want anyone else. I don't want to learn to love anyone else. Those girls....i mean fuck they aren't even close to being half of the women you are. They let me treat them like shit, but you have no problem putting me in my place. That's what I need. I love you and I can't let you go. Let me fix this please. Let me show you how much I love you mommy " he sobbed above her

Her arms going weak as she watched him cry and babble over her

"Eddie stop crying" she demanded. She couldn't handle his puppy eyes filling with tears when she's supposed to be pissed at him

"I'm sorry" he repeated over and over, lips kissing her neck as he desperately grinded his body against hers. Kissing the same spot over and over as he whispered apologies

"I'm your good boy and that's all I want to be" he admitted, forehead pressing against hers. Letting his tears fall off of his chin and on her chest

She smiled weakly, wiping his tears

"you promise?" She asked weakly

"I promise mommy" he said strongly. No hint of hesitation

"well mommy thinks you need to be reminded how good you have it" her lips curled in a growl

Eddie felt his cock grow harder as the familiar fire burned through her eyes. The sad and distant look gone as she gripped his jaw

"remind me who I belong to, please" he begged, grinding his hips harder against her

She smirked and flipped them over, leaning back on her legs as she sat up. His body laying underneath her

"who's slut are you?" She demanded, her hand moving down his chest and into his boxers

"yours mommy. I'm your slut" he whined. A big sigh of relief when she took his cock out of his boxers

He waited for the usual praise that left her mouth when she would see his cock when she first pulled it out. But she didn't say a word, gripping his cock in a tight grip. Smiling as Eddie's body squirmed

"ow fuck" he whined. Gripping the sheets as she gripped him even harder.

"shut up" she snapped, moving down his body

Spitting on his cock as she jerked his head

"mommy that's so good" he moaned

"I said shut up" she growled, removing her hand from his cock

"I'm sorry. Please" he begged, watching as she walked away

She rolled her eyes, digging through their sex box for his butt plug, her strap, and her biggest dildo

She walked back to the bed, throwing the toys next to his head. His brown eyes looking over at the toys. Then moving back to her as he heard clothing hit the floor

Her naked body sitting near the end of his body

"I mean it. Shut the fuck up and do not speak unless I ask you too" she said, slapping his cock harshly

He bit his lip as he moaned. Choking back his sounds

He nodded fast, eyes begging to be touched

She took the butt plug, staring into his eyes as she took the plug in her mouth, sucking on the toy

"you want this in your asshole baby?" She teased

"yes please mommy" he begged

She smirked as she shoved it in, not bothering to be gentle

He whimpered as he bit his hand. Loving the way his ass felt full from the plug.

"tell me, was Jess one of the girls you made beg for your pathetic cock?" She asked harshly

"yes mommy" he admitted

"you fucked her rough and hard?" Her mouth spitting on his cock again

"fuck...yes" he moaned when she began to jerk his head again

"did you make her scream and cry?"

"yes mommy" he whimpered

"I wonder what she would think if she saw you. A plug up your pathetic ass, tears in your eyes. " She mocked, her tongue licking up his cock. Sucking on just the tip

"I don't care what she thinks" he groaned. Hands itching to push on her head

"why's that?" She asked curiously, jerking his cock roughly as she stared down at him

"fuck...Jesus" he groaned. Words not making it out of his mouth as she roughly jerked him off

"I...I..oh God" he squirmed

"I'm not hearing any answers"

"because I don't care about her. Just you mommy" He stuttered out

"you cared about her enough to question yourself" she added, angry eyes staring into his wet ones. Jerking him off even harder. Her grip was so tight she could barely move fast

"I'm sorry" he whimpered, puppy eyes looking down as she destroyed his cock with no care in the world. God he loved watching her hand fuck him.

"you will be" she threatened. Her hand only focusing on jerking his tip, making sure he was sensitive from the start

"mommy I can't...you need...not the tip the whole time" he choked out, clenching his teeth as his tiny hips squirmed against the mattress

"excuse me? I don't listen to my brat's demands", for that jerking the tip even harder. Rubbing the skin as she ignored the rest of his length

His hand raced down his body, trying to stop her hand from moving

"you better take away that hand right now" she growled "mommy decides when she's done playing with your cock, be a good boy and fucking take it or I'll stop completely"

"no no! Just please" he babbled out, yanking his hand away fast

If she only focused on his sensitive tip he was seconds away from having to beg to cum.

"fuck my hand you whore"

He whimpered as he slowly moved his hips against her hand. Going at his own pace to slow down the orgasm that was so close to boiling over. Bucking his hips in the air as his cock slid easily in the grip of her hand

"fucking pathetic. I know you can go way faster than that" she ignored his cries, going back to jerking him the fastest she could

Eddie couldn't handle it. Hips squirmed against the bed so bad his whole body was cowering away from her. Hands searching for the headboard to grip, he had no control to what left his mouth at this point. Painfully whimpering as he felt his balls tightening

"you need TO STOP, SHIT" he warned

"don't you dare fucking cum. Sit still and take it" she growled. He was thrashing so hard her grip was getting loose as he flipped his body to its side, taking a sigh of relief when her grip was lost

But in seconds his hips were slammed down, trapped underneath her body. She yanked off the rest of his boxers. Throwing the item somewhere around the room

"you are really testing me today" , a slap down across his right cheek had his toes curling

A loud whimper left his lips

"you want mommy to continue?" Her voice was soft and gentle, a huge contrast to the slap across his face

"yes just please slow?" She looked down at his puppy eyes

Getting close to his face, practically breathing in his breath for oxygen

"you'll take it exactly how I give it" she yanked his mouth open

Spitting directly on his tongue

Without question he swallowed it. Humming as he tasted her spit down his throat

"you will not cum tonight, do you understand me?"

"mommy I can't hold it all night" he admitted. He's never been able to. The second he's either being fucked by her in his ass or if she's riding his cock, he always needs to burst and cry.

"I don't give a shit. You'll do it" she ignored his protests, her hand moving down to his butt plug, pushing it in and out. Her thighs still locking him in place. His asshole clenched around the plug. Sucking the toy back in.

One of his hands moved closer to her chest, preparing to grip her right boob when she smacked his hand

"don't fucking touch"

"MOMMY" he whined pathetically at that. He can't cum, he can't touch her, and he has to sit still. Three things Eddie was never good at

"yeah cry out. Make our neighbors hear how much of a brat you are" she mocked, yanking the plug fully out of his ass, throwing it to the side as she reached for the dildo

"I know how to shut you up. Suck mommy's cock for a little bit"

Once again yanking his mouth open, watching as he stuck out his tongue. She smiled and placed the dildos tip flat on his tongue. Watching as his lips closed around it. Sucking it softly as he moaned

"your bratty mouth loves being filled with cock doesn't it?"

He nodded the best he could. Moaning as she slipped the toy deeper in his mouth, watching as drool made its way down his chin. She leaned forward, licking up the mess he was creating.

She kept it at a steady pace. Thrusting the toy in and out of his mouth. Loving the pop of his lips when he released it. The gagging when she pushed just a tad bit too far. The choking when she held it, forcing him to deep throat it. He tried to put on the best show he could. Keeping her distracted enough to realize he technically wasn't being touched anywhere. Giving him more time to recover from his almost orgasm.

After she made him choke three more times, she yanked out the toy. A line of spit following behind.

She tossed the toy to the side, shoving her own tongue down his throat. Giving him no second to catch fresh air before his throat was filled with something else. He moaned instantly. Letting her devour his mouth anyway she wanted. His hands clenching the headboard hard, nails digging into the wood as he tried to keep his hands off of her.

She made the kiss loud and wet. Grinding her hips against his soft stomach. Eddie felt his stomach clenching, feeling her wetness soak his happy trail and belly button

"oh God" he moaned into her mouth as she began to hump his stomach faster

She pulled away and slapped his cheek again

Throwing her head back as her nails dug into his chest, rubbing herself against his stomach

She moaned his name over and over as her fingers tweaked his nipples. Pinching, pulling, and twisting. Loving the way his bottom half kicked and squirmed

She slowed down her hips as she grabbed her strap, smirking down at Eddie's puppy eyes

"put it on" she spat, throwing it on his chest as she got off of him. Looking down at his soaked line of curls leading down to his cock. She rubbed her wetness further in the small patch of hair, loving how it all matted together

"wait me?" He choked out

"yeah. I want to be fucked so you are going to fuck me, but I want a real cock" she growled

"my cock is better than this!" He defended, sitting up as he held the strap

"put it on" she demanded again, ignoring his argument

"if you want to be fucked then I'll fuck you" he snapped, grabbing her ankles as he moved her down the bed

Throwing the strap across the room as far as he could

Spitting on her cunt and rubbing it in

"you think you are good enough to fuck me?" She teased

"I know I'm good" he countered back, yanking her legs apart as he pushed himself inside of her

Moaning instantly as his cock was tightly held by her. He had to focus on her, he had something to prove

"mommy you are so wet" he whined, laying his body down on hers. Holding himself lightly by his arms next to her head. Snapping his hips fast against hers. Immediately feeling her get tight around him. The moments he actually got to fuck her always made his body shake

"fuck I can feel how hard you are" she whined, her hands thrown around his neck as she moved her hips up to match him

He was desperately pounding into her. Sounds of their skin smacking bounced off their bedroom walls. Moans and whines, from both, filled the space between their bodies.

One thing she knew Eddie hated was when she didn't praise him when he was in her

She refused to let him have this

Clamping her mouth shut as he fucked her. She couldn't deny it, this was the best he's ever fucked her. His hips were smacking into hers so hard. His hip bones practically stabbed her. His patch of dark brown pubes were brushing against her clit and it was driving her insane. The feeling of his balls smacking her ass had her hands yanking his hair.

"come on, I know you want to moan for me" he growled, he used his left hand to hold himself up, his right hand cupping her jaw, forcing her to look at him

Staring into her eyes as he slowed down his hips. Pounding harshly one thrust at a time. He could feel her tits jolting with each thrust but he refused to break the eye contact. He made sure to give each thrust all he had. Making them as hard as he could. Making sure to go as deep as he could. Smirking as her eyes began to roll into the back of her head. Her jaw opening as she let out soundless moans

"come on mommy. Moan for me" he tried again, drilling her harder into the mattress

When she refused to make a sound, he grew more frustrated, sticking two fingers into his mouth then rubbing her clit.

"fuck" she said quietly

It was quiet but he'd take it. Rubbing her clit faster, going back to fast and rough thrusts. Refusing to stop. Clenching his eyes, making sure this didn't backfire on him. He couldn't cum either.

"mommy, come on" he grunted, sinking his teeth in her neck

She held clumps of his hair as she panted beneath him

"mommy please. Say something" he whined, smashing his forehead against hers. "tell me I'm doing good. Please mommy. I'm doing good right?"

She could hear the insecurity laced in his voice. The pleading behind his whines. His eyes were full of determination, his cock was hitting spots she never knew she had. She could practically feel him in her stomach. At the end of the day the man she was hopelessly in love with was begging for some type of reassurance that she was feeling good, and that broke her down.

"I'm close baby. You are doing so good. So fucking good. Mommy is so close to cumming. You going to make me cum?" Her heart beamed as his face lit up

"yeah I'm gonna make mamma cum" he moaned

Smiling as he kissed her lips. Rubbing her clit as fast as he could

"That's it. My fucking good boy" she moaned, her hand moving to his back, holding his ass as she shivered underneath him.

"cum mommy. Cum for your good boy"

"EDDIE GOD" she screamed, panting as her orgasm washed over her. Soaking his cock in her cum as she clawed at his ass

Eyes closed as she threw her head back

Missing the way Eddie smiled down at her, a proud look in his eyes. Watching every detail of her face as she came. The way her eyes shut, her neck thrown back, her nails scratching his ass, her tits being shoved against his chest. The way her mouth opened and small pants of air came through.

He slowly fucked her through it, slipping out of her slowly, hissing as he was still rock hard

"and you didn't even cum. I'm so fucking proud of you" she praised, leaning up to kiss him hard

He whined into her lips. Elbows on either side of her head as he kissed her deeper. One hand still on his ass, the other one cupping his jaw as she leaned up, easily slipping her tongue and moving it against his. He could feel precum leaking, panting as he pulled away.

"I'll never love anyone as much as I love you" he whispered, kissing her nose softly

"dammit. Don't be so cute" she teased, shoving his shoulder

"tell me you love me" he begged, his puppy eyes back in work

"I love you baby" she said, tugging him down against her chest. Rubbing his back as he sighed into her

"did you mean it about no cumming tonight?" He asked nervously

"sure did brat" she teased, smacking his ass as her other hand played with his hair

"mommy" he whined desperately

"not happening" she laughed, tickling his soft skin

"go to sleep and maybe I'll help you out tomorrow" she proposed

He nodded into her chest, trying to ignore that his throbbing cock was inches away from her cunt. A cunt that was still dripping on him.

Digging his face into her neck. Pecking the skin softly

"I'm sorry again for making you feel not good enough"

"it's okay bud. We're okay now" she smiled, kissing his sweaty head

His hand searching for the one in his hair, lacing it with his as he pressed their hands into his face, kissing her hand repeatedly

Sometimes she needed reassurance more than him. And he would never pass up the chance to remind her he was in love with her.

~~

Tags!

@simping-over-boys-with-trauma @capricornrisingsstuff @somnialol @buginnettesstuff @thegemaqua @skyline4446 @bunnyweasley23

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @slightlyvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergent @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming

@eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy

[yazis]

I’M NOT INTERESTED!!

二 - love at first sight

wc: ~0.7k

note: not proofread!

“Y/N OPEN THE DAMN DOOR” a familiar voice screamed from outside.

you already knew who it was, glancing at the clock on your wall you saw it was only 8:59. school started at 9 and you only lived about 3 minutes away.

not that it mattered, your first lesson on monday was always english and your teacher never cared whether you were late or not. there was no need to be in a hurry

it clearly wasn’t the same for the person on the other side of the door. they were banging non-stop making you think your door would break at any second.

“Hold on a second Yoich-”

“WE DONT HAVE A FUCKING SECOND GET OUT HERE NOW BITCH” isagi impatiently yelled quite loudly making you jump a bit. you forgot how foul-mouthed he could be when mad.

eventually, the banging died down which most likely meant he was at his breaking point. either that or he had left you by now. you quickly grabbed your piece of toast and a plain piece of bread for isagi incase he was still there and headed for the door.

as you opened the door you were met with a murderous glare from your friend in which you gave an apologetic smile. this was about the 100th time you had been in this exact situation.

“sorry about the wait. bread?” you offered holding out the single slice of bread in your hand.

isagi scoffed and rolled his eyes, turned on his heel and walked away. it was clear he was furious. all you could do was trail behind and keep quiet, in hopes of not provoking him any further.

——————————

when the two of you arrived at school, it was 9:04. the whole walk there had been silent so you thought isagi would at least give you a ‘bye’ or ‘see you later’ as you parted ways to head to class like he usually does.

this time around though, he just stormed off.

it’s not like it was your first time making him late, so why was he so pissed this time? it was starting to scare you as isagi was a whole different man when he’d lost his temper.

oh well, i’ll give him a proper apology later

you sighed before making your way to your classroom, isagi’s uneaten bread flopping in your hand.

i can snack on this in class later

you thought to yourself smiling down at the slice. unbeknownst to you, you were turning the corner the end of the corridor and someone else just happened to be turning the corner the exact same time.

you bumped hard into this said person and your bread slice dropped on the floor. looking down at it, mouth slightly agape, you glared and looked back up to give this person a piece of your mind.

“well excuse me-” you were cut off when your eyes locked with his. his cerulean eyes bored into yours leaving you speechless. they were by far the prettiest eyes you had ever seen.

you went on to study his features. messy reddish-brown hair, sharp jawline, long lower lashes and a stoic expression displayed.

this guy is drop-dead gorgeous! how did i not notice someone so handsome going to this school earlier? is he new?

you gulped nervously as your eyes drifting back to his piercing ones. the both of you stared at each other, you tried hard not to blink not wanting to miss a single moment.

unfortunately though, after what seemed like eternity, he finally broke the eye contact as his eyes wandered to the bread slice on the floor. surely you weren’t going to eat that anymore.

he looked back at you one last time before coldly brushing past your shoulder and heading off, probably to his classroom.

you stood there stupidly. luckily no one else was around to see your flustered face. once you got back to your senses, you rushed to your classroom head hung low in embarrassment.

who was this guy to have got you’re heart racing by just a simple gaze? how dare he had your head feeling dizzy by doing the bare fucking minimum. it just wasn’t fair. god just looking at him had you mesmerised. there was no doubt about it:

you had fallen in love.

prev | masterlist | next

SUMMARY: in which 2nd-year y/n l/n one day turns up at their high school and falls head over heels with a certain 3rd-year, one who has a strict ‘no-dating’ policy.

all right reserved © please do not copy any of my works!

[something-tofightfor]

Birthday Kiss #9: Oberyn Martell

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Female Reader

Word Count: 1,074

Rating: M. I think.

Summary: A Kiss On the Beach

Author’s note: 9 Pedro Characters. 9 Birthday Smooches. These are very lightly edited because they're supposed to be quick. Wanted to give all of you a gift to celebrate my birthday - Oberyn got jealous that 8 other men got to smooch someone and he wanted in, too.

Not explicitly tying this one to a current storyline, but I'm also not saying that it isn't tied to something, either.

No matter where you went with Oberyn, people stared at him. 

You were used to it. The turning heads of men and women didn’t bother you and people sending him drinks at the bar or attempting to divert his attention only made you laugh. Oberyn was Oberyn, and the attention was just part of the experience of being with him. 

That was especially true when you were in a place like Sunspear, much more of his golden skin on display than usual and his dark hair slicked back thanks to the gently crashing waves he loved to swim in. 

When Oberyn stretched out on a soft blanket to let the sunlight warm his skin, they looked. When he walked the short distance between your spot and the water, they stared. And when he emerged from the surf, droplets of water glittering in the sunlight as they ran down the ridges and curves of his body, they ogled, men and women alike not shy about appreciating the view. 

He appreciated it right back, too, making eye contact with people as he passed them and giving them nods and tiny smiles, occasionally stopping to speak with them for a few minutes at a time. He understood the importance of meaningful interaction, and Oberyn wasn’t ever shy about giving people what they wanted. 

But what he wanted was you, and it was no secret. 

You watched him from your spot on the sand, the legs of the low chair you lounged in buried for stability. After adjusting the sunglasses you wore so that they settled more comfortably against the bridge of your nose, you dropped your hand to touch the pendant you wore, fingers closing around the stone and sliding it along the thin chain. 

Even though he was facing the man and woman he was speaking to, you could see that he was focused on you from over the man’s shoulder - the tilt of his chin a dead giveaway, as was the way he reached up to touch the chain he was wearing, mirroring your motion because he knew you had eyes on him. 

It made you smile, and when Oberyn’s laugh carried over to you on the breeze, you finally closed your eyes, turning your head to the side and resting your cheek against the pillow behind your head. 

You were relaxed - the crash of the waves and seabirds’ songs soothing you, but the sound of his voice only made things better. “My new friends say happy birthday.” 

“What?” Reaching up, you pushed the sunglasses up, letting them rest against the top of your head. “It’s not my -”

“I know. And you know.” He pointed, glancing back at where he’d been standing previously. “But they don’t. And that was a good excuse to get me out of the conversation and back here next to you.” It made you laugh, but when Oberyn settled down onto the blanket next to your chair, reaching over to run the tips of his fingers over your bare thigh, the laughter stopped. 

It was replaced with a sharp inhale, your head turning to the side as you watched him, the man staring at the path his hand took. He was focused, his dark eyes narrowed slightly and then widening when you extended your legs, the bend of your knees less severe. 

He circled his thumb over your knee and then shook his head, clearing his throat before bringing his eyes back up to meet yours. “When do you want to go back inside?” 

“I don’t.” You answer was immediate, and when you heard him chuckle, you lowered one hand to cover his, squeezing. “Oberyn this place is gorgeous. Every time we’re here I just …It’s beautiful here. I could live on this beach.” 

“I did. For many years.” He turned his head, looking over your shoulder at the castle behind you, and when he looked back at you, you saw the wistfulness in his expression, something that didn’t often happen with Oberyn. “Between this and the Water Gardens, I spent very little time indoors.” 

That didn’t shock you, and when he didn’t say anything else, you stared over at him for a minute or so, taking in the details of his face and the way the light hit it- highlighting the freckles on his skin and bringing out the different shades in his beard. Your gaze trailed down and followed the slender line of his neck and the curve of his chest, Oberyn’s flawless skin on display. 

He said your name a moment later, using his other hand to tilt your chin back up, and when you met his eyes, he was smirking at you, head cocked to the side. “For someone that was just talking about how beautiful this beach is, you’re not looking at it.”

“Can you blame me?” Closing your eyes, you bit down on the inside of your lower lip. “This place is gorgeous, but then you’re also here, and I got … distracted.” 

“I am a distraction? Still?” He lowered his voice, his tone turning from affectionate to more, and when you opened your eyes, he’d moved closer, narrowing the gap between your faces. “Hmm.” 

“Always, Oberyn.” Reaching up, you cupped his cheek in one hand, nodding seriously. “And you know it. So I don’t -”

His kiss took you by surprise, the man moving swiftly to press his lips against your mouth and then urge your lips apart, slipping his tongue in to meet the flat of yours. You sighed into it; there was no point in pretending that you wanted anything else. When your fingers raked through the slicked back locks of his hair, you hummed, Oberyn’s hold on your knee tightening. 

But he broke away from you abruptly, letting out a quiet groan and giving your leg one more squeeze, though it ended with a gentle swipe of his fingertips over the inside of your thigh. “Would you like me to distract you some more?” Blinking to try and focus, you shivered at the tone of his words and the heat of his touch, goosebumps rising on your skin. “Somewhere …a  little more private, maybe?” 

You were on your feet seconds later, looking down at a very surprised Oberyn and watching as his expression softened, a smile spreading over his features and giving you a good look at his dimple - just another thing about him that you loved. “I thought you’d never ask.” 

— 

[nightsinbluevelvet]

Matt Bomer's 2024 looks, part 2

Time for Matt's 2024 event looks part 2! Part 1 can be found here.

Matt has treated us to such unbelievable, unprecedented beauty this June that I still haven't nearly recovered from it. This time it's almost impossible to choose a favourite look, or even a favourite picture for each look - so profoundly stunning are they.

This post is only about his physical looks/outfits, but there's a thing or two to be said about how lovely he has been, too, and he has really moved through this promo period with such seemingly effortless grace. I love him more than ever, and miss him terribly right now.

Anyway, on to the pictures. I've included the Getty Museum look, even though it's from a photo shoot and not an event, because it's just so gorgeous.

Getty Museum photo shoot, 31 May 2024

Fellow Travelers FYC panel, 1 June 2024

White Collar panel, 6 June 2024

IndieWire Honors, 6 June 2024

Critics Choice event, 7 June 2024

Fellow Travelers FYC panel, 8 June 2024

Peabody Awards, 9 June 2024

Santoni show, 16 June 2024

Prada show, 16 June 2024

Tod's show, 16 June 2024

Armani show, 17 June 2024

Filming Italy photocall, 22 June 2024

Filming Italy red carpet, 22 June 2024

Filming Italy red carpet, 23 June 2024

Comments:

Matt in an all-white suit and perfect hair, strolling around a museum? Swoon!! I was completely dead already at this point, and it wasn't even June yet.

Matt in an all-burgundy suit, with soulful eyes and a button malfunction? Consider me weak!

That's Neal Caffrey, all right. Stunning!

Same day, still super cute

All-white suit again, completely drop-dead gorgeous. Also, I love this signature pose of his.

Then, just as I thought it couldn't get better, he wore all-black instead, including a silky cardigan with nothing underneath, and basically looked better than ever. Here I was really starting to lose it.

Looking proper in an all-navy suit, but still seductive as hell with the open buttons. Very sexy!

Then we get to the Milan Fashion Week and really dangerous waters. First up is the Santoni show, where Matt wore a mint green outfit that looked incredible. Even if the beard was still longish (I prefer it short), this look was astonishing to me. His hair was amazing too. In some pictures, these clothes leave rather little to the imagination (in the best way possible). He looks both sweet and ultra-sexy.

At the Prada show his beard was shorter, which is why my brain completely short-circuited from this point onwards. How he managed to look great in a blue leather shirt and leather shorts I do not know, but he looked so cute, and young.

At the third show the same day, Tod's, he - unbelievably - again looked better than ever before. Extremely dilfy in a good way, just simply jaw-dropping. Best look so far. Should have been impossible to top (no pun intended).

But then came the next day and the Armani look, which broke the internet. I'll choose this one as my favourite, and actually it's possibly my favourite look ever on Matt. Everything is perfect: his curly hair, even shorter beard/stubble, ARMS, and how his body looked when he walked in those white trousers. I don't think any man could ever be better looking than this.

Not much to say. Gorgeous hair. Shirt not so nice. He's beautiful.

Matt in a silk suit? Yes please.

This look is really extremely hot. Love it!!

So, my favourites are:

Armani show

Tod's show

June 8 FYC panel

What are your favourites? I'm so curious to know what everyone thinks.

Thanks to mattbomerfan.com for most of the pictures!

[jaysguitar]

Just realized this song is so his codded also he looks so good along with other members they devour this :3

[catindabag]

TBOSAS on Crack short take (59)

*When Sejanus met Coryo*

Ma: I can’t believe that my dearest son is now a handsome little lad.

Sejanus: Ma, I’m 8.

Ma: Still, you’re almost as tall as me and your father.🥰

Strabo: That’s a lie. I’m taller than most people. I’m even taller than President Ravinstill and Monster Cardew.

Ma: Whatever you say, my love.

Sejanus: Ma, just this once, please don’t embarrass me in front of the other kids today.😞

Ma: Ok, dear, I promise. But make sure to share those sugar free gumdrops I bought for you and your new friends-

Sejanus: Yes, Ma, I will.

Ma: That’s my boy! Now, run along and have a great time at the playground, Seji Pie.☺️

Sejanus: Thanks Ma!

Ma: And be careful!

Sejanus: I’ll try! Bye-

Strabo: Son.

Sejanus: Yes?

Strabo: Do you know why I moved our family to live in this terrifying city as soon as the war ended?

Sejanus: Because you’re a scheming old man who wants to rule Panem forever?

Strabo: Yes.😈

Sejanus: Typical Pa-

Strabo: But that’s just the half of it.

Sejanus: Then what’s the other half?

Strabo: *points at an 8 year old Coryo Snow* My son, you see that little white haired boy sitting alone on that bench over there?

Sejanus: You mean that malnourish looking gorgeous boy with the most beautiful pale blue eyes that sparkles like a rare pair of Paraiba Tourmalines whenever he looks at the morning sky?

Strabo: Yes, him.

Sejanus: Why?

Strabo: That boy right there will be your future spouse, my son!

Sejanus: My future spouse?!😍

Strabo: Exactly!

Sejanus: But I don’t even know his name! He might even hate me!😭

Strabo: Well, that’s alright, son, because he’s going to be your future fiancé and marry into our family whether he likes it or not!

Sejanus: How do you even know him?

Strabo: His drop dead gorgeous father and I were very close friends.

Sejanus: How close?

Strabo: Extremely close.😏

Sejanus: So you guys were besties?!

Strabo: More than that.

Sejanus: So you were roommates?!

Strabo: Sure! My beloved Crassus and I were the best roommates!😉

Sejanus: But what if he doesn’t like me?

Strabo: Don’t worry about that. Little Snow will eventually melt and love you forever.

Sejanus: Really?🥹

Strabo: Really. You two are destined to be together, my son.

Sejanus: Destined?

Strabo: Written in the stars, fated by life, carved in the ground by love itself and whatever young couples tend to say nowadays.

Sejanus: So he’s mine?

Strabo: Yes, he’s yours.

Sejanus: Mine!😍

Strabo: That’s right! Now go feed him before someone else does!

Sejanus: Ok! *quickly runs to a sad and lonely Coryo*

Coryo: *is secretly starving* Ugh. I think I’m gonna cry. I’m so hungry right now-

Sejanus: Come home with me!

Coryo: Huh? Who are you?

Sejanus: The man who’s gonna marry you!

Coryo: Marry who?

Sejanus: I’m your husband!

Coryo: Husband?! I’m too young to have a husband-

Sejanus: Do you want a gumdrop, my love?😍

Coryo: Um- Sure? I’ll have one-

Sejanus: Take all of them, my love!

Coryo: Why are you calling me that?

Sejanus: Calling you what, my love?

Coryo: That.

Sejanus: I don’t get it! But here! Have my gumdrops and marry me!

Coryo: Thank you, friend.

Sejanus: Boyfriend.

Coryo: Friend.

Sejanus: Husband!

Coryo: I don’t even know your name!

Sejanus: I’m Sejanus Plinth, the love of your life, the boy of your dreams, and the man who’s gonna marry you!

Coryo: I- I’m Coriolanus Xanthos Snow.

Sejanus: What a beautiful name you have, my love!

Coryo: Thank you?

Sejanus: Tell me, my Snow Angel, which one sounds better? Snow-Plinth or Plinth-Snow?

Coryo: I don’t really understand what you’re saying-

Sejanus: So is that a yes?!

Coryo: A yes to what?

Sejanus: That you’ll come home and marry me!

Coryo: I’m too young to marry you!

Sejanus: Pretty please?🥺

Coryo: No.

Strabo: *is hiding behind the bushes* Marry him, little Snow! Marry my one and only idiot son!

Coryo: *points at Strabo* Who the heck are you?!

Strabo: Your father-in-law.

Coryo: *turns to Sejanus* Why is your crazy old man hiding behind those bushes?

Sejanus: It’s a District 2 thing.

Coryo: Right. So I’m just gonna go home now-

Sejanus: To my place!😘

Coryo: No.

Strabo: My beloved Crassus will be extremely happy if you marry my son, little Snow!

Coryo: *sighs* Tigris was right. I should’ve stayed home today-

Sejanus: I’m rich by the way.

Coryo: So when’s our first date?

[wildlife4life]

Seven (+) Sentence Sunday

Tagged by @jeeyuns, @elvensorceress, @alyxmastershipper, @rogerzsteven, @hippolotamus, @loserdiaz, @exhuastedpigeon, @devirnis, @disasterbuckdiaz, @wikiangela and @giddyupbuck Thank you all so much! Very much looking forward to all your upcoming works!

Don't need to say too much for this snippet. Here is more NFL Buck.

“Okay now that is a beautiful man.” Chimney remarks, interrupting the same argument about the firefighter calendar that’s been going around the firehouse for days. Hen’s gaze follows Chimney’s, and wow. Yea, she may not be into dudes, but the man currently pulling on a standard LAFD shirt in the locker room is drop dead gorgeous. “Where’s the lie and I like girls.” Hen comments. Bobby laughs, “That’s Eddie Diaz. The transfer from Houston I was telling you about a couple weeks ago. Former army medic, has a silver star and a few good years under his belt working fire and rescue.  He likes to be called 8-pack.” Chimney chokes on a laugh beside Hen and she couldn’t stop her smirk, “I think your chances for the calendar just drastically dropped.” Bobby rolled his eyes, “Come on I’ll introduce you.” He clapped Chim on the shoulder then made his way over to the locker room. “Honestly if I lost to him, I would not be upset…And who says he’s even going to enter?” Chimney states, following their captain just a few steps behind. Right in step with him, Hen hums in mild agreement. Besides the charity aspect of the calendar, she really did not care.

A little twist in the introduction of Eddie to the team. Hope you all enjoyed! If you want to see more NFL Buck go here.

Tagging (no pressure): @forthewolves @eddiediaztho @fortheloveofbuddie @spotsandsocks @eowon @theotherluciferr @thewolvesof1998 @try-set-me-on-fire @watchyourbuck @jesuisici33 @diazblunt @ladydorian05 @911onabc @911-on-abc @monsterrae1 @thekristen999 @cowboydiazes @cowboy-buddie @cowboy-buck @buck-coded @housewifebuck @bekkachaos @lover-of-mine @bvckandeddie @brokenribsdiaz @glorious-spoon @spaceprincessem @transbuck @bigfootsmom @buddierights @gayhoediaz @gayedmundodiaz @athenagranted @rainbow-nerdss @honestlydarkprincess

[angel-of-the-moons]

Presence, Presents!

Poe x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Fluff, some implied sexy times to follow

A/N: When I found out Poe's birthday was today, I had to write this. Especially since my birthday is tomorrow!

(Poe divider by @/saradika-graphics)

Poe had been strutting around like the prettiest convor in the base all day, marching with his chin held high like he owned the place. His confidence was infectious, renewing many tired Rebels as they scurried about their duties for the day.

Right now, Poe was headed back too his (and yours) quarters, his trusty astromech, BB-8 by his side, tweeting and beeping at him incessantly.

"I know, I know, buddy! But hey, today's my special day, and I wanna take a nap in the arms of the most gorgeous gal in the galaxy." Poe grinned down at the rotund droid.

BB-8 chattered in response, shaking his little head around as he swiveled in place for a moment before skittering alongside his human friend once again, almost knocking into Poe when he stopped dead in his tracks.

"Wait, what?" Poe asked dumbfoundedly, staring down at BB-8 with wide eyes.

BB-8 made an exasperated tweet and wheeled along, bumping into the door that led to your room. Your little slice of heaven away from the chaos of war and dogfights.

Poe hastily punched in his passkey and was met with silence. You weren't in there. By the looks of it, you'd been gone a while, possibly since just after he left for his own mission.

His shoulders slouched and he dropped his head back with a loud groan. "Aw, man!"

He dragged his feet behind him, his vigor all but depleted at your absence and dropped onto your bunk with a hefty sigh, falling back onto the headrest.

Only for his head to not meet the soft downy cushion of your pillows, but clang off of something hard and stiff shoved beneath the soft lumps. Poe turned onto his side and moved the first pillow, and he was met with a long, medium-sized crate with a note stuck to the top.

It was in your handwriting;

"Hi! They needed an extra escort on this training run for the rookies. Be back soon, happy birthday, baby! :D"

Poe's heart lurched in his chest as he smiled fondly at your hasty scribbles of love, and opened the metal box to see what was inside. And when his eyes met with the shiny barrel of a new blaster, he gasped aduibly.

The thing wasn't cheap. Brand-new, not even cleaned for the first time, yet. No signs of scoring from previous useage... the blaster was surely expensive. You must have saved up for it for months without telling him.

"Aw, baby..." Poe breathed, his eyes softening as his hands brushed the barrel of the blaster fondly, immediately drawing a picture of you in his mind's eye; what you must have looked like hiding this from him, the giddy little wiggle of your hips as you stowed the present for him away for him to find.

He sighed and walked his new blaster over to his locker, placing it gently down as if it were made of porcelain and not the durable metal and steel alloys used to fabricate it, and pulled out a small holo-disk.

Pushing a button, the image that flickered up first was a still of his mother and father. Young, rash and bold; their eyes alight with the fires of freedom, the same that burned within him, now.

"Made it another year, guys." He murmured to the hologram in his palm, each word making his heart seize a little painfully in his chest.

"Wish you could meet my girl. Mom, you woulda loved her. She's sassy, smart, and she hits like a pissed off bantha. Did I tell you that's how we met? Got into a drunken argument at a cantina after a mission. I swear, as soon as she was done knocking my lights loose and my vision came back... Whew! I thought I was looking at one of those Angels the old-timers used to rag on about..." Poe sighed, smiling softly. BB bumped into his leg affectionately, twittering softly in camaraderie.

His nostalgia and bittersweet talkings were snuffed out when there was a knock at the door. He cleared his throat and set the holodisk down in his locker, closing the door before announcing, "C'mon in!"

The door slid open and in walked Finn, beaming from ear to ear, "Hey, man! Heard it was your birthday today! Rey and I just got back with Chewie and we were all talking about celebrating!"

His dark eyes scanned your quarters, his brow furrowing. "Where's your pilot-in-crime?"

"Oh, she's on an escort for a training op right now." Poe said, rolling his wrist casually. "Not surprised, she loves helping the new rookies."

"Ah, okay, got it..." Finn gave him a bit of a shrewd glance. "So... what do you plan on getting her?"

"...Getting her?" Poe echoed dumbly, earning a shriek from BB-8, who rammed into his shins again and again.

"Poe, for the love of--" Finn groaned at him, hissing as if he were in pain. "Please tell me you remembered your girlfriend's birthday is tomorrow?"

The pilot blinked, like a porg in somebody's torchlight, his eyes vacant as the realization dropped on him; almost no thoughts behind his gorgeous amber gaze as he looked at his friend, mouth agape.

He grabbed Finn's shoulders and shook him, "I FORGOT MY GIRLFRIEND'S BIRTHDAY HELP ME WHAT DO I DO?!"

Finn grabbed Poe's hands and eased his iron grip, "Okay, okay, there's a local market, we can run out, grab her a gift and be back... Rey might be able to help us pick it out. Maybe if we're fast, we can get it done before your girl gets back from the training run?"

"YES PLEASE!"

"Okay, c'mon, let's go!" Finn said, leading him out by the hand.

"Man... I can't believe you forgot your girlfriend's birthday was the day after yours..."

He felt horrible. Downright nasty, filthy, horrendous. He felt like the worst boyfriend in the universe--how could he forget your birthday? When it was literally the day after his?

He'd been beating himself up over it since they returned from the market; had he really had his head so far up his own ass that he... ugh.

He shook the water free of his dark curls as he stepped out of the refresher, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his waist, looking like a depressed, drowned womp-rat.

His fingers hit the button and the door slid open, and he went rigid when his eyes landed on you; dressed in your orange pilot's jumpsuit and your helmet tucked against your side as you held the little brown box with the pink ribbon tied around it--a little touch done by Finn, actually--and you turned to grin widely at him.

"Sorry I was gone! One of the escorts got sick and couldn't fly wingman so I offered myself up for it." You chuckled, setting your bulky helmet down on a rickety old chair by the desk that was in much of the same condition.

You lightly shake the box in your hand when you turn to look at him, "And what's this, eh, flyboy?"

Poe grabbed the towel with one hand to keep it around his waist as you two began to hop around each other; just barely keeping your gift out of his reach.

"Hey!" Poe retorted. "No! That's for tomorrow, you minx!"

You cackled mischievously and finally relented, amused by your boyfriend's almost-naked pleading, handing him your wrapped present and letting him stuff it inside of your locker for safekeeping.

You tilt your head and smile wryly at him. "You forgot didn't you."

He twitched and cringed, "....No? Well, what I mean was--well, you see... it's more like... and, uh..." His shoulders dropped as he looked guiltily at you. "...BB-8 told you, didn't he."

"BB-8 told me." You nod with a grin.

"Ah, hell, that little mech is on my last hair!" Poe stomped, glaring at the locked door to your quarters.

You giggle and kick off your boots with a sigh before unbuckling your vest and dropping it onto the floor; tugging your gloves off with your teeth and then leaning up to give Poe a kiss to his damp cheek.

"It's the thought that counts, hon."

"Yeah, but..." Poe groaned. "You got me that blaster, and... I got you some dumb trinket from the market. And no... I won't tell you what it is, even if I'm not proud of it."

Your eyes softened and you slipped your arms around his midsection, your thumbs tracing the dimples low on his back as you brush your nose to his.

"I don't want some expensive thing, baby." You tell him, "I'm happy if we can just spend time together..."

"I know, but I..."

You silence Poe with a kiss to his slightly chapped lips; "Hush. Whatever it is, I'm sure I'll love it. 'Cause I love you, you kriffin' dork."

Poe wrapped his arms around you and pressed his forehead to yours, finally giving you a smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. "Love you too, you cranky ass nexu."

You tilt your head back with a laugh as Poe waggles his eyebrows, his hand dropping to his towel suggestively.

"Y'know... you can always unwrap another present that I'm always carryin' for you..." He hinted playfully.

"Finn and the others can wait a bit."

[b0rderbunny]

♡ HOLDING TIGHT ♡

A/N: not me posting after disappearing for a month 😩

By the way I have been really sick and have been juggling finals and dealing with this virus. My entire families got it so I'm trying to not get sick but that's kinda hard when you live with 8 people 🤧

Nonetheless let's begin!

Gender neutral reader

Levixlover!reader

Levi Ackerman, a man with many talents.

He's strong, smart, and drop dead gorgeous; That's what people on the outside see. But what did you as his lover see?

You saw a cold man, who only pushes others away because he's scared.

Because he's scared of a repeat.

The repeat of losing.

Most people would take this as immaturity.

"Imagine being afraid of losing? As if"

This man was scared of losing yes. But not what others might think. He was scared of losing people he let in.

The night Isabelle and Furlan passed, you were there.

You held a hand out, a hand that he first slapped away.

Yet.

You were always there.

He didn't know why but he felt comfort in your presence, in your gaze. The way you looked at him, with so much love in your eyes. The way you looked at him as if he were the most perfect thing in the world, the most beautiful man in existence.

And he is, you made sure to remind him every day just how much you loved him.

How much you cared for him.

His voice, his eyes, hell even the way he had to make sure everything was clean. Your treatment towards him was foreign. He wasn't used to being looked at like he was human. He was used to being looked like a machine, a dog, something disgusting.

So the night you two first made love was something he would remember to the day he died.

The way you told him how much he meant to you.

How much you loved him.

He cried.

The first time since his mother's death, he cried.

And unlike others would, you didn't judge him. Didn't take advantage of him in this delicate state. Instead you repeated it again.

"I love you Levi."

And now those were the same words you were whispering as he stared down at you eyes wide, your hand resting on his cheek.

Your bloodied hand.

Blood of your comrades, friends, and your own.

"Promise me something ____." He said as you two stood outside star gazing the night before.

"Anything" you said with a smile.

"Promise me you'll come home, that the two of us will spend the rest of our lives together." He said as he turned to look at you. At your beautiful eyes. The eyes he loved so much, mirroring his gaze of love.

"Only if you also promise that you'll come back to me" you said holding out your pinky.

God, you were always so immature.

He clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes at your immaturity as you let out a small laugh.

"Come on I'm not kidding!" You laughed as he let out a small smile before wrapping his pinky around yours.

"Fine"

And even with your hand becoming limp, you still looked at him as if he was the most important thing.

"I'm sorry I couldn't keep my promise" you whispered, wiping the tear that was now trailing down his cheek.

He could see it.

The pain, the same pain everyone before you had.

His mother, Isabelle, Furlan, Kenny.

And now you.

Was he cursed? Did he do this to you? Was this his fault?

He was losing you

And he couldn't do a single thing.

Nothing, as you bled out holding your lovers hand to your heart.

He could feel the way your chest slowly began to still.

Before it completely came to a stop.

The battle of shiganshina.

The battle of life or death.

A battle so vicious, that even after the people regained the land, they were still talking.

"Did you hear about the squad leader who was lost? ____? Was it?"

"I heard them and captain Levi were head on the strongest in the military"

"The two were going to get married after coming back to the walls, no?"

Many scouts were lost.

But they weren't just scouts.

They were Friends

Father's

Mother's

Lovers

Soulmates.

The scouts had won.

Yet everyone came home with a heavy feeling in their heart, the feeling of loss.

They had lost.

More importantly, Levi Ackerman had lost.

What he lost you may ask?

He lost the most important thing in his life.

His lover, his best friend, his everything.

"Hey L?" that dumb nickname you have him, you always had to refer to him as it. "Hm?" Not looking up from his papers he signaled you to continue talking.

"Do you believe in alternate universes?" You asked looking at the book you held in your hands.

"I believe you're a idiot" he replied as you deadpanned.

"Im being serious, what if there's another me and another you" you said excitedly walking towards his desk and around to wrap your arms around his shoulders.

"What if there's one without titans where me and you are married, with a small tea shop, and kitty" you said excitedly as you rested your chin on his shoulder.

"How dumb are you?"

"In another life I'm super smart!"

"Yeah in another life" he replied, rolling his eyes.

In Another life…

Maybe we'll stay together...