#Flash is clearly nicer

[nelkcats]

The List

Danny knew he couldn't keep the existence of the ghosts a secret forever. The GIW was a clear example of that, they had managed to disband the organization but there were always traces left behind that made him anxious.

Times had changed, and while Amity was hiding behind his "small town" reputation, the world was changing. New protectors, heroes, as well as new threats were appearing. And as much as the halfa wanted to, he couldn't transport his entire town to the Realms on every occasion of danger, that would definitely be suspicious.

So he made a list. He gathered information on the heroes that had come forward and categorized them according to how easy they were to approach, or how open they would be to the existence of ghosts.

Unfortunately his "safest" choice was John Constantine, someone he wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole, so he decided to settle for the second one: The Flash.

Danny had weighed the pros and cons, but as he walked through Central City he wondered if it had been a mistake. Although it was probably too late to regret it, the speedster had already noticed him.

[mattsfavoritestar]

SMILE! YOU'RE ON CAMERA, chris + matt

synopsis… (based on this ask)

warnings… mean!toxic!matt, mean!toxic!chris, mentions of established relationship, cheating, unprotected p in v (WRAP IT B4 YOU TAP IT), sextape, degradation, oral (m receiving), face fucking, rough sex, multiple orgasms, creampie, edging, chris has a dacryphilla kink

@bernardsbendystraws for the dividers <3

“fuck chris look at her take me so well” matt groans with his torturous slow thrust. he was so deep inside and the stretch burned so good. you were holding on to a pillow, stuffing your face to hide trying to muffle both your sobs and moans.

you felt so exposed and embarrassed with both matt and chris just watching you. your legs were locked around matt’s waist. he held you in place by your waist, refusing to let you go any faster or even attempt to run away from him. he was going at a just enough speed to where it’s barely brushing your orgasm. he was edging you on purpose.

you heard the familiar sound of a camera shutter from chris’s direction. “think i should record it? send it to that fucker?” chris asked completely ignoring your existence. matt nods with his mouth hanging open, he was lost in the way your gummy walls gripped him in such a delicious way.

the pillow was yanked from your hands and thrown to the floor. you saw the blurry head of an upside down chris pointing his phone in your face. “look at this whore. crying on my brothers cock like you didn’t just get a new lapdog” he laughs.

you turn your head away from him as you felt tears running down your face. chris grabs your jaw and roughly forces you to look directly at him. you saw the flash from the camera looking right at you. “oh baby, look at you..” he mumbles as he smears your tears onto your lips.

matt’s thrust grew more aggressive. he was clearly taking his anger out, borderline abusing your cunt. your eyes rolled to the back of your head while you back arched slightly. matt mumbled his complaints and insults as he harshly pounded deep inside you.

“fucking slut”

“think you’re gonna replace us that easy?”

“bet he doesn’t fuck you the way we do”

you couldn’t even defend yourself. your voice was fucked out of you, all you could do was let out choked moans. you tried to reach for chris to hold onto him but he moved completely out of reach and laughed.

“look you pissed matt off” he says. you shut your eyes then attempted to push matt away by his pelvis but was shoved away by him. you couldn’t even tell them that you were at the brink of orgasm. you opened back your eyes only to see chris hovering over you again with the camera with his cock dangling in your face. he had a sick smile plastered on his face as he zoomed into matt brutality fucking into your cunt.

you soaked matt’s lower half with a loud moan practically a scream falling from your lips. “i’m sorry, matt did she ask you to cum? cause i didn’t hear anything” chris scoffs. matt shook his head, “nope” he grunted.

“flip her over” you heard chris say.

matt pulled out of you swiftly before turning you over. he placed his hands back onto your waist and lifted your lower half to meet his before plunging back in. you couldn’t even register matt’s cock in your guts as chris distracted you by pulling you hair up so your head met with his cock in your face.

chris teased himself on your glossed lips before pulling your hair back slightly, forcing you to open your mouth. you stuck your tongue out and barely grazed his tip. “don’t think your lapdog would be too keen on you panting like a bitch in heat” chris hissed.

he placed his tip flat onto your tongue then slowly pushed himself into your mouth. you thought he was going to be nicer and attempt to be gentle since matt already had your legs quivering. how wrong you were.

chris pushed his hips forward abruptly. you gagged with tears streaming down your face. your throat was on fire but the burn was delicious. between matt drilling into you from behind and chris fucking your face, you couldn’t stop yourself from cumming again on matt. your legs were shaking so bad, you swore you were going to drop if they weren’t holding you up.

“c’mon baby look at the camera. show your boyfriend how much better we treat you” chris pants as he shoves the camera in your face. you gurgled around his cock as a mixture of precum and saliva dripped out of your mouth.

“m’close!” matt moans as he leans over you, his thrust were getting sloppy. chris drops the phone then places both hands on your head. his head drops back while his eyes close. “mh’fuck!, let’s fill her up” chris moans.

you heard matt whine as ropes of his seed spilled inside you followed by a loud moan from chris as his load floods your throat. matt pulls out and jerks himself of while more of his cum pumps out of him and paints your back.

chris pulls out with a heavy sigh while you coughed. he moves back a bit to catch his breath then looks up to see matt sitting next to your limp body. matt played with you hair as you laid their with your eyes closed.

“i just don’t understand why you didn’t come to us if you wanted a boyfriend that bad.” matt states, “could’ve had two” he whispered to himself. you whined as you pushed his hand away softly. “s’cause you guys are so mean t’me” you say weakly.

“we’re not mean you’re just sensitive” chris laughs. he was over there scrolling through your following list, searching for your new boyfriend’s instagram. he scoffs as he looks through this guy’s feed judging every post. you heard his fingers tapping away but ignored it as you felt yourself slipping into a much needed rest.

“matt” chris calls. matt looks over to chris who was showing him his phone. a chuckle left matt’s mouth as he shakes his head.

instagram: christophersturniolo sent a video !

[paddockletters]

comebacks | carlos sainz

paring: carlos sainz x reader | f1 grid x reader summary: you attends your high school reunion, facing your old bullies and flaunts you newfound confidence alongside your fiancé and with the support of the f1 grid author's note: i hope you like it! it was my first fic with carlossss!... well, as I always say... english is not my first language so sorry if there are mistakes —feel free to tell me—

As I stirred the last remnants of my wine in the glass, laughter echoed through the kitchen. Carlos leaned casually against the counter, recounting a funny moment from the last race, his eyes lighting up with joy. Lando animatedly mimicked a miscommunication between him and Max, while George and Daniel chuckled at the story.

“Seriously, Y/N, you have to come!” Lando insisted, throwing a piece of bread my way. “This reunion is your chance to show them how far you’ve come!”

“I don’t know, guys. Do I really want to walk into a room full of people who used to bully me?” I replied, crossing my arms, feeling a familiar unease creep in.

“Come on! You’re not that awkward girl anymore,” Max chimed in, a reassuring grin on his face. “You’ve built an amazing career. They’ll be jealous.”

“Exactly! You’ve got a killer job now. Show them what they missed out on,” George added, leaning in with a playful smirk.

“Plus, it’ll be funny to watch them squirm when they see you with Carlos,” Daniel added, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

Carlos chuckled, watching the exchange with a knowing smile.

“I promise you, they’ll regret ever doubting you.”

“Yeah, but what if they start throwing shade?” I shot back, my worries bubbling to the surface.

“Who cares?” Daniel replied, his tone upbeat. “We’ve got your back. The Grid vs. Your Old Bullies—what could be better?”

I couldn’t help but laugh at the thought.

“But I can’t be your only entertainment. Don’t you all have reputations to uphold?”

“Who said we can’t all have fun?” Oscar chimed in, flashing a grin. “But seriously, we’ll be right there with you.”

“Think of it this way,” Carlos said, stepping closer, his eyes earnest. “You’ll be showing them just how wrong they were to underestimate you. They’ll be wishing they had been nicer to you all those years ago.”

After a moment of contemplation, I finally relented.

“Okay, fine! I’ll go,” I said, rolling my eyes as laughter erupted around the room.

The night of the reunion arrived, and I stood before the mirror, adjusting my earrings. The fitted black dress hugged my curves, and the diamonds sparkled under the soft light.

“You look stunning,” Carlos said, appearing behind me, his eyes warm with admiration.

“Thanks. Just trying to keep up with my handsome fiancé,” I replied, smirking as I turned to face him.

As we entered the venue, a wave of nerves washed over me. The moment we stepped inside, silence swept across the crowd. I could feel my old classmates’ eyes on us, and I straightened my posture, reminding myself I was no longer the shy girl they used to know.

“Wow, look who it is! The little princess of the tech world!” one of my former bullies sneered, crossing her arms defiantly.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit excessive, flaunting your bling and all?” another chimed in, a smug smile creeping across her face.

“Guess you really are just after money.”

I lifted my chin, feeling a surge of defiance.

“If you think I’m a golddigger, you clearly haven’t seen the annual report of my company. I’m here because I want to be, not because of Carlos’s wallet.”

Carlos, observing quietly, stepped forward, his voice steady.

“And let’s not forget, I’m the lucky one here. I’m with a woman who knows her worth and has earned her success.”

Their expressions shifted from arrogance to disbelief. The room buzzed with whispers as I stood tall, pride swelling within me.

“Where are you two heading after this?” one of them asked, clearly fishing for information.

“Actually, we’re headed to La Belle Époque for dinner,” I replied casually, letting a small smile slip. “I hear their seafood is exquisite.”

Their eyes widened in surprise, and I caught a glimpse of envy flicker across their faces.

“That place is hard to get into!” one of the girls exclaimed, clearly taken aback.

“Yeah, well, Carlos knows a guy,” I said with a shrug, playing it cool.

Carlos chuckled as we turned to walk away, their stunned faces fading behind us.

“You handled that well. I love how confident you are.”

“Thanks! I figured I’d give them a taste of my success,” I replied, exhilarated.

As we arrived at the restaurant, the ambiance was breathtaking, and the scent of gourmet food wafted through the air. The hostess greeted us with a warm smile and led us to a private table adorned with flickering candles.

“This place is incredible,” I marveled, taking in the elegant decor.

“Only the best for my queen,” Carlos said, pulling out my chair with a charming grin.

As we settled in, the rest of the grid joined us, filling the table with laughter and good-natured banter.

“So, what was the highlight of the reunion?” George asked, leaning forward, clearly curious.

“The look on their faces when Y/N schooled them!” Carlos said, raising his glass with a chuckle.

“Yeah, you were on fire!” Daniel added, clearly impressed. “Who knew you had it in you?”

I felt a rush of warmth at their support.

“Thanks, guys. I just couldn’t let them walk all over me.”

Carlos looked at me, pride shining in his eyes.

“You’ve come such a long way. I’m proud of you.”

“Yeah, but how did you keep it together?” Lando asked, leaning back with a playful smirk. “I’d be a mess if I had to face my high school bullies.”

“Honestly? I just remembered all the hard work I’ve put in and realized they don’t matter anymore.” I replied, my confidence buoyed by their encouragement.

As dessert was served, a rich chocolate mousse, I couldn’t help but smile at the camaraderie surrounding me. I had faced my fears, reclaimed my confidence, and found my place among these incredible friends.

As the night progressed, laughter filled the air, and stories of past races flowed freely. Carlos shared tales of his experiences on the grid, and I couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride for him, too.

“I remember the first time I met Carlos,” Daniel said, grinning. “He was so nervous he could barely say hello! Now look at him—engaged to a CEO and winning races.”

“Yeah, and don’t forget his million-dollar smile,” I added playfully, earning a round of chuckles.

Carlos flashed a grin, his eyes twinkling.

“I still get nervous sometimes, especially with Y/N around.”

As dessert disappeared and glasses clinked, I felt a wave of contentment wash over me. I had confronted my past and emerged stronger, supported by the incredible friends I had made along the way.

“So, what’s the plan for the rest of the night?” Oscar asked, glancing around the table.

“We could hit up that club nearby or just keep the celebration going here.”

“Honestly, I’m just happy to be here with all of you,” I said, leaning back in my chair, feeling grateful. “But I’m down for whatever. As long as we’re together, I’m good.”

“Let’s make this a night to remember, then!” Lando exclaimed, raising his glass high.

As the evening wound down, Carlos wrapped his arm around me, pulling me close.

“You really were incredible tonight,” he whispered, his voice low.

“Thanks for being my support, Carlos,” I replied, leaning against him, feeling safe and cherished.

“Always,” he said, planting a soft kiss on my forehead. “Let’s get out of here and enjoy our time together.”

[murdrdocs]

this but from miguels perspective (gn!reader)

he thinks he's maintaining composure during the call. he manages to hold off the growl between his words, and his eyes are the usual amount of narrowed, so he thinks he's truly not being that obvious. but the envy sits heavily in his chest and the jealousy almost blinds him and of course, there's the devil on his shoulder to taunt him as soon as the call ends.

"were they just ...?" lyla's question doesn't need to be completed for miguel to know what she's asking.

"yea, lyla," annoyance is clear in his voice. to an outsider, maybe it's the usual annoyance that comes from miguel o'hara. but to the one who knows him best, it's a dose ten times bigger than usual.

"oh, someone's jealous." it's singsong, a direct taunt at his expense, something lyla's best at.

"i'm not jealous i'm upset that i now have to find another spider-person to fill in for spider-punk." lie. well, not completely a lie but mostly a lie.

lyla's tone says she obviously doesn't believe him. "uh-huh. sure." but then she's gone, and miguel's left to click on his watch and pull up the audio recording of hobie's call. all calls are recorded for ... archives and such, so it's not that weird.

miguel just needs to let out some frustration before he can focus again. he knows lyla will handle getting someone for the mission, he just needs 10 minutes on his own, with your moans lowly playing in the lab, and his fist wrapped around his cock.

he spits in his hand, the quarter of his suit between his navel and his knees disappears, and he plays the bit of audio that's clearest with your moans. when hobie deliberately paused to "think" about when he was next free, leaving miguel's ears to warm as his overactive imagination conjured up images of you, under the spider-person who upset him most.

his hand turns sloppy as he thinks about how hobie doesn't deserve you. he's too insufferable, too immature, and from the one accidental meeting miguel had with you, he could tell you were the opposite. you were sweet, pretty, the softest features and the most comforting eyes as you offered tea to the spiderman who'd jumped out of a portal and into your home.

miguel remembers scowling at the mix of items that were yours and hobie around the place, but his features leveled out when he saw you, wearing a long shirt that stopped mid thigh, a little bit of toothpaste crust at the corner of your mouth, and a bright smile as you tentatively approached hobie and miguel.

he felt disgusting in the moment, thinking about what you had under that shirt, if you even had anything under the shirt. you were young, clearly hobie's age, definitely too young for miguel, but so much nicer than most young adults, a simple fact that drew him to you even more.

he couldn't help but think about if you and hobie had just had sex while he accidentally stumbled over his words, having to take a pause all together as hobie shamelessly pulled your back to his front and rested his chin on your shoulder.

now, images of how embarrassed you'd looked then flashes into miguel's mind. is that what you looked like while your boyfriend fucked you on call to his boss? maybe your face was scrunched a little more with pleasure. maybe there were tears running down your cheeks, a show of humiliation and satisfaction.

fuck, miguel really wanted to make you cry. he wanted to see those pretty eyes well up with tears while he bounced you on his cock. not on hobie's. miguel wanted to wipe the salt water away, kiss them away, and continue to make you feel good.

he distantly realizes that he's groaning now, grunts thrown in there as his hips chase his own hand. it's messy, a little shameful, but the thoughts are coming into his head quicker than he can process.

pictures of you bouncing yourself on his cock, head thrown back. pictures of you begging to cum because you know that miguel controls when and if you do. pictures of you playing with yourself, putting on a show for him, moans high pitched and vulnerable like they are now as you beg for help.

and just as he's about to come, hobie speaks, and miguel sees a picture of the two of you, hobie being the one to get you off, eyes locked with miguel with that usual taunting look in them. but for once, it doesn't upset miguel. at least not when warm spurts of his own cum is spurting out of his dick and onto his previously clean skin.

[ihavethedreamies]

Ride a Tiger | San

Choi San - ATEEZ

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~6.3k

Pairing: Tiger-Hybrid!San x Deer-Hybrid!AFAB!Reader

Genre: Hybrid AU!, Historical/Joseon Era, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut, Some Plot, Strangers-to-Married

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Biting/Marking, Bonding/Mating, Heat/Rut, Pheromones, Breeding Kink, Bath/Water Sex, Unprotected Sex (This is pre-birth control so…), Monster(?)!San (not really, he's a tiger hybrid)

Author's Note: Just so you know, this is NOT Omegaverse, but they do both go into rut/heat. They have animals ears and tails and he's got a spiny tiger cock. This is vaguely set in the Joseon Era of Korea, which is a pretty long time range. It is after the creation of hangul, so its post 1600s about. I only know a lot of this stuff from, and am copying from, historical/period dramas. I know in a lot of ways they aren't completely accurate, especially with women going around and not covering their heads/faces. This is not supposed to be accurate, by any means. Let me know if something is horribly wrong.

At the bottom I will have a guide for all the untranslated words I use, most of which are to do with the clothing they wear.

P.S. Should I be packing? Yes. I did this instead.

P.S.S. If anyone has a picture of San in traditional/historical clothes, could you get it to me with a link or something, I couldn't find anything with Google Images or Pinterest. GOT ONE

"He who rides a tiger is afraid to dismount." ~Chinese Proverb

-> Series Hub <-

🦁 Hongjoong's 🦁

🐕 Yeosang's 🐕

🐻 Jongho's 🐻

I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other sites. Happy reading!

When you had heard thunder rumbling in the distance earlier, you didn't think anything of it. You would be done before the rain came! Nope. You scrambled to gather all of the books you had laid out at your stand, getting them under the surface so they wouldn't get damaged. A giant flash of light followed closely by clap of thunder startled you, and you bleated, your long furry ears pressing back against your hair. Your short tail under your hanbok twitched, slightly rustling the fabric it laid under. Once all of the books you were selling were safe, you grabbed the sseugaechima you had and slung it over your head, stepping back toward the building you were in front of. It was some kind of accessories shop, but the roof awning was quite short and so you barely were able to hide from the downfall underneath it. People scrambled on the street to flee to rain, and the few of them that had coverings continued on their way normally. You peaked out from under your own covering, observing the sky best you could. It was clearly not going to end anytime soon; it was just that time of the year. You had no idea how you were going to get all the books back to your house. Your father didn't mind you working to copy and sell books for the local seller, but he wouldn't let you establish your own business. The seller you worked for also didn't have a store front himself and so the two of you would sell at stalls in the market.

You decided to wait just a bit longer, wondering if the shop owner of the building behind you would let you store the books for a bit. The street had more or less cleared out, but you watched a nobleman come closer. His clothes were nice, even nicer than yours, so his status was probably much higher. The gat he wore was adorned with a silk strap and the beading was clearly finely made as well. As you looked over him, the belt tying his jeogori accentuated his narrow waist and wide shoulders. Your eyes travelled up to his face and he was stunning. But also…he had tiger ears. As he got closer, you caught a glimpse of his long tail. Definitely a tiger. It was incredibly likely that the guy was not just nobility, he was possibly one of the princes. There were like eight of them so that wasn't too unlikely. Despite the downfall, he was simply strolling down the street, almost like there wasn't any rain. Since you were one of the few people still outside, he stopped in front of your seemingly empty stall. He lifted his head and his eyes met yours and you felt them widen. Instinct flared to life, your deer-like genes screaming at the sight of the predatory gaze. It wasn't that he was trying to scare or threaten you, he just simply was a predator hybrid, and you a prey.

"Have you nowhere to go to escape the rain?" He was definitely of high status, with not just tone but the exact words he used. You nodded dumbly, back pressing to the stone foundation of the building behind you. The sseugaechima over your head covered your deer-like ears and your tail was completely hidden by your hanbok.

"I-I have books to sell, and I don't want them to get wet." You pointed under the stall, and at the crate that held your wares. He made an 'ah' of acknowledgement. You wondered why he felt the need to stop at an empty stall.

"You might have to wait a while for the rain to stop." He looked up at the sky. You sighed, knowing he was right.

"Do you want me to help?" He offered and you flinched. Really?

"If you wish, my lord." You bowed a bit and he huffed.

"Shh. Pretend I'm not that important." His smile was much softer than you expected from a tiger. You nodded, not able to speak and he came around and you dragged the crate out, ready to use the sseugaechima to cover it.

"Use this." He corrected, taking the cloth that you had laid out on the wooden stall, and you wondered how frazzled you were that you forgot about it. He tucked the edges of the fabric over the books and easily lifted the crate. You moved around him so you could start to lead him home and you felt tense the whole time. Negating that he was a tiger and you a deer, he was clearly a nobleman, and he was doing physical work…Then again you were technically a noble yourself, and a female at that. Finally getting to the entrance for your family's estate, the door was open already and you waved for one of your father's guards to come and help. The guard took the crate from the tiger, bowing deep in respect and then dashing off to put your wares in your quarters.

"Thank you, my lord." You bowed again, sseugaechima still covering your head.

"San." he added, and your brow furrowed trying to wonder why he was talking about a mountain. Then it hit you, it was his name, he was one of the princes!

"Oh, yes, your highness. (Y/N)." You introduced yourself as well, staying bowed and making sure not to look at his face.

"Get inside and out of the rain Lady (Y/N)." He smiled and your eyes flitted to his gorgeous face. You bowed deeper and then dashed further into the courtyard and booked it to your quarters.

 ~*~*~

Looking up at the clear blue sky, you squinted at the tiny white cloud you could see. It had rained for nearly four days straight and therefore you couldn't set up your stall for that long. You didn't really have need for money since your father was…well, rich, but he didn't just give you pocket money to buy stuff for yourself. It was because you wanted books that weren't normally what noble women would read, you know, like things you could learn from. You had read more than your fair share of romances and adventures from copying them. After you had set out the final pile of books, you looked at your hand and rubbed your finger over the callus you got from holding the brush. Yes, it was painstaking, but you were extremely glad that you could use hangul, it would take ten times longer if you had to use hanja. Right as you got done setting up, two women strolled up and you continued your day.

About an hour before you would get ready to go home, you noted that you had done well for the day and had only about six books left, each a different one. Since it had slowed, you were sitting on a stool, people watching the few that were wandering around. It was nearing the evening mealtime, and you could smell the food from the restaurant down the road on the corner. Your stomach rumbled and you sighed deeply, ears drooping. You started to zone out a bit, watching some birds on the ground, not looking up when someone stopped.

"What is this one like?" the man asked, and you finally looked up so you could see which book he was pointing to.

"Hm, something about a servant seducing a nobleman's son…" You sniffed and looked up at the guy and startled. It was that prince from before. Even if you hadn't carved his face into your memory, it was a bit obvious from his tiger ears right under the brim of his gat. You immediately stood and bowed, and he looked around quickly.

"It's fine, I'm trying to lay low." He waved you off and your eyes caught sight of the black claw-like nails on the end of each finger. You risked glancing up at his face and he was smiling, dimples indenting his cheeks, your eyes focused on his large canine teeth. You felt your tail flick a few times, your skirt ruffling a bit. You felt his eyes moving over your face and your ear flicked at well, nervous under the gaze of his golden colored eyes. You froze when his arm moved, hand coming up and your eyes followed the movement till you couldn't see, and you felt a little tug on your earring.

"These aren't real." He made note of it, and you cringed. You had wanted real jade earrings, but you didn't have enough money, and so you had to settle with those instead. Your father might have bought those for you, but you really wanted them right then and there. You weren't even sure what they were actually made of.

"N-no." You bowed your head and he let them go.

"When do you leave?" His question startled you and your ear flicked again.

"In about an hour."

"Don't leave till I get back." He told you and he headed off further down the market road, back the way he came. You blinked after him, eyes wide, wondering what the heck that was all about.

You did as he asked though and waited for him to return. Glancing up at the sky, you had another ten minutes or so and he still wasn't back. If you didn't know he was one of the princes, you would have left, but he told you to stay. You still hadn't sold the rest of your books despite a few people stopping by, and so you started to put them in the crate. Looking down into the mostly empty container, you looked to the side and saw him coming. Even at a distance you could see his smile when he noticed you were still there, and he jogged to meet you sooner.

"You stayed."

"Well, you said to." You shrugged, not looking at his face. Part of it was because of his status, but it was also because he was so handsome. Too handsome, actually. You wondered if all the princes were so. You watched as he pulled something out from the interior pocket of his jeogori, a small but detailed wooden box coming out. He held it out to you, and you hesitated to grab it.

"Go ahead." He waved his arm a bit and you gently took it, lifting the hinged lid. You gasped, looking at the earrings inside. They looked nearly identical to yours, but they were obviously real jade.

"W-what?" You had to look at his face then, see what his expression was for some sort of explanation. His cheeks were a tiny bit red, and his own ear flicked some and you could see his long striped-tail swaying behind him.

"Your Lord Bak's daughter, from the Saseum Clan?"

"Y-yes?" He smiled a bit bashfully, looking down as he swung his leg around, drawing a circle with his foot.

"Could you take me to talk to him?" You nodded jerkily, a little shocked at the request. Before you could grab the crate, he took it, and you balled up the cloth from the stall and shoved it on top of the books. You walked next to him as you headed toward your home, feeling a bit weird, like you should be following him. You had never directly interacted with a prince, but you still knew the basic rules. Don't look at his face, walk behind him, don't be physically higher than him, speak formally… Yes, he was trying to lay low, but that didn't change who he was. You wondered who was genuinely ignorant enough to not know who he was since he was so obviously a tiger hybrid. When you showed up to the house with the same man carrying your book crate as the time before, your father's guard was a little skeptical. He still took the crate from the prince- San, his name was San, you remembered.

"Could you please get Lord Bak?" He asked and the guard's gaze flicked to you, and you gave a short nod. As he went to do so, you stood with the prince awkwardly, swaying just a bit so your skirt twirled a bit around you. Your ears were twitching so much that your old, fake earring jingled. Your arm twisted around your back so your hand could tug on the end of your braid, a nervous habit.

"(Y/N)? Who is this?" Your father came around the corner, strolling down the stone-paved path toward both of you. He glanced at San, and you cringed slightly at how much smaller your father was than him. His jeongjagwan was modified to fit around his antlers, only that put him at the same height as the prince.

"I am Prince San, Lord Bak. I have come to ask permission to court your daughter for marriage." You balked at this, turning to gape at him directly. Your head turned back to your father whose gaze had sharpened. You knew that there was a lot of noblemen that had brought their sons as potential suitors, and your parents had turned down every single one. Would San be different? You were lucky that your parents did take into consideration your opinion on most things.

"You are the fifth eldest, no?"

"Yes."

"Are your parents aware of your request?"

"Not yet, though I have been given more freedom since I am far down in the line of succession." It seemed the men were having another conversation through their eyes.

"Is that why you would be allowed to marry a prey hybrid?" The prince faltered for a reply, it seemed he hadn't even taken that part into consideration.

"I will need to request an audience with his highness." Your father answered and San seemed to deflate.

"What do you think of this?" Your father turned to look at you and you cast a nervous glance at the tiger next to you. You knew that you would have very little say in reality, and you wished you lived about a thousand years earlier. You know, before Confucianism ruined feminism. Though, the prince seemed to be very sweet, and he was extremely attractive. It could be way worse.

"If my lord finds it auspicious." You bowed your head a bit and your father hummed.

"Why don't you go back inside, (Y/N)?" The request was more of a command than a suggestion and you scurried off to do so. As you entered, your mother came down the hall and you met her.

"Geez, mother…" You led her to spin around, and she did, though with a confused look. Adjusting her binyeo so it was setting in her bun evenly, then she turned back to face you.

"Were you speaking with someone?" She peaked around you so she could look out the window, but she couldn't see.

"A suitor…" You told her and her long, furry ears perked up.

"I shall see then," she nudged past you and went to go out and you huffed a sigh, heading back to your room.

"(Y/N), your father requests your presence in the courtyard." A handmaiden came to summon you and you got up from your floor desk to follow her out. Your father was not alone, Prince San standing with him. It was only three days prior that your father had an audience with the king, and since the prince was there…

"Yes, father?" You came out and stopped before them, bowing at the waist some.

"It seems that it was auspicious…" Your father tossed a glance at the prince, and you looked up at both of them. Your gaze went to the tiger's handsome face, and he was beaming.

~*~*~

The next few weeks were a blur and before you knew it you had gone through the marriage ceremony, and you were moved into his own little palace that belonged to the greater palace grounds. Since he was one of the younger princes you shared a palace, whereas the queen and the crown princess had their own places. There was a place as well for any consorts that the royals might have as well, but it seemed San requested you to live with him. Honestly, you would think it quite impersonal for a husband and wife not to share a room and bed each night, but that seemed to be the norm for royalty. When you learned that even princes sometimes had consorts, you got a little insecure. What if you weren't enough?

"What's wrong, (Y/N)?" San's voice caught your attention and you turned to him as he entered. You had been standing in the middle of the room, just looking over everything, the room fairly barren compared to the overall size.

“I was just…” You stopped, trying to think of how to word it. He hummed for you to continue.

“I was just trying to soak in everything I’ve been told to learn.” You lied, not ready to bring the subject up quite yet. Your head was pounding from all the new information you had been pumped full with and you were nervous about messing up. Luckily since you were a noble already, you knew most of the rules and practices, but you were going to be under a bit harsher scrutiny. Not a bit, a lot. Your head felt strange, having your long braid looped up into a chignon braid, the jade binyeo holding it up making it feel heavier. The cheopji sitting on the middle of the top of your head was heavy as well, since it was gold. Your hanbok was of much higher quality and you felt nervous about getting it messy or torn somehow.

"(Y/N)?" He called your name again and you snapped out of your tumbling thoughts.

"Why did your eldest brother step down as heir?" You finally remembered the question you had wanted to ask him, before your insecurities started to spiral. You had heard some of the other women talking about it but didn't want to rely on gossip.

"Hm. The woman he fell in love with was too low in status. He abdicated so he could marry her. That's why Hongjoong is the crown prince."

"I see. The eldest is Seonghwa, yes?" San hummed and you sighed, racking your brain for all the names you had learned. There were too many. Finally, you looked over San…your husband. Just the thought made you a bit giddy. Even though it hadn't been very long since you two met, maybe about two months, you had endeared to each other. He was so sweet, contrasted greatly with the normal thoughts of how tigers were. Then again, he was a hybrid, not a full tiger. He was in a much different ensemble than what you met him in, more princely clothes. He didn't have any kind of headwear on then, just his manggeon and you could see the streak of orange and white in his hair to the right of the center of his head.

"Are you nervous?" he asked and your ears flicked. Not really sure what he was talking about, you just nodded. You were, but you weren't for sure in what way he meant. He stepped forward and his hands found your waist, your own landing on his chest. San pulled you closer and your ears pressed back against your head. Your nervous habit of tugging on your braid was going to have to be replaced since it was no longer hanging down your back. You let out a noise similar to a bleat when he hauled you even closer, his nose nuzzling against your ear.

"We get to make it official." he whispered and what he was getting at finally hit you. The consummation of the marriage. You were nervous, and a bit worried as well. You were told that predators had a much more aggressive…mating process. Plus, apparently, tiger hybrids were much like real tigers, and had 'barbs' on their… You were in your own thoughts; you could say whatever; they had barbs on their cocks. Plus, you were a good 30 centimeters shorter than your husband and he was just big overall. Your hands on his chest fisted, digging your fingers into the fabric and you squeaked when the claws on his hands dug into your own clothes enough you felt them against your hips. You shuddered as his slightly rough tongue ran up the side of your throat. Your heart rate spiked, nearly taking your breath away, some primal part inside of you freaking out.

"Your high-"

"It's just us, call me San."

"San, I-"

"Your highness!" A eunuch called from the other side of the door, and you pulled back. He reluctantly let you remove yourself from him and you turned away from the door as he turned toward it. He allowed the servant in, and you were informed that the bathing chambers were ready. After the eunuch stepped out and the handmaidens were waiting outside patiently, San went back to you.

"Why don't we be efficient and take a bath together?" He had wrapped his arms around you from behind and you were sure he felt your tail wag nervously even through the layers of fabric you both had on.

"C-can we?"

"Hm. I don't see why not. Not exactly traditional, but…I can get away with a lot." He chuckled and you felt it rumble through his chest pressed to your back. When he finally pulled back, you turned to him, face warm and he grinned.

"So cute." He nuzzled your ear again and then came back, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. It was your first kiss as a married couple, not that you hadn't stolen a few leading up to that point. This one was different though and he nearly growled as he deepened the kiss. You squeaked, it was like he was trying to eat you and the obvious comparison was not lost on you. His tongue was rough against yours when it wiggled into your mouth and your head swam when his large canines clacked against your much smaller ones. When his lips let yours go, a trail of saliva connected your mouths and you let out a shaky breath.

"Go with the handmaidens and get ready, I'll join after." San pressed another kiss to your cheek and allowed you to leave his embrace. You stopped in front of the door, looking back at him again as the servant on the other side opened the door. He smiled warmly and you bit your lip giddily and then followed the maids to the bathing chamber. They carefully removed your garments and took your hair down, so it was still just in a braid, you didn't need to wash it yet. You were left in a simple white sokchima, not ready to be fully disrobed since San was still to come in. You heard his own servants getting him ready in the adjoining room and as soon as your maids left, the side door opened. He stepped in, closing it behind him and you gasped, eyes widening. Speaking of wide…his shoulders were so broad, especially compared to his waist. It was fairly obvious even when he was clothed, but right then he only had a pair of white sokbaji. His torso was toned as well and your mouth, still hanging open, started to water. Well, not really, but you were close. Feeling very small and delicate under his intense gaze, it softened when he noticed your shoulders were tense.

"Come here." San cooed, coming to meet you halfway and you let him hug you again, not able to help yourself placing your hands on his bare chest. His skin was smooth, and his muscles were hard and your thighs clenched as you practically stroked him. He chuckled and your eyes flitted up to his, ears flopping they were twitching so hard. His tail was sticking out the back of his pants, swaying slightly, his ears drooping just a bit.

"Can I take this off, (Y/N)?" The prince's voice was quiet but deep in your ear and his hands gripped the back of your sokchima.

"Y-yes." You did feel the amount of clothes was fairly unequal, but your final garment being removed would leave you completely bare. Shivering a tad as he pulled the tie open, the straps of the undergarment fell from your shoulders, then the rest of the fabric onto the floor. Your arms went to cover yourself, but his hands stopped you. Your face was hot, almost on fire and you could meet his gaze, ears no longer twitching but pressed back hard against your head. Your short tail was waving back and forth quickly, no longer impeded by any fabric over it.

"You're beautiful." San told you as he made sure you wouldn't cover yourself and he stepped back a tad, fingers going to the tie of his sokbaji. Your tongue ran nervously over your bottom lip, eyes immediately zooming in on his hands. He noticed your gaze's direction and he huffed a laugh but continued with his task. Your arm wrapped around your back, tugging on the end of your braid, now free of the pin holding it up that showed your wedded status. It was like time slowed down as he lifted the waistband up and over his half-hard cock and the fabric pooled on the floor as well and your eyes widened almost comically. You had never seem a man naked in person, only having seen what were basically medical diagrams in books. All you knew was that they probably weren't all that big, and he wasn't even fully hard. The little spines at the base and head of his cock were not quite like you imagined, unlike the barbed end of a fishhook you imagined. Your cunt clenched hard, and you swallowed hard as he stepped closer.

"Here." He grabbed your hand with his and brought it toward him. You both gasped when your small, warm hand wrapped around his cock, and you bit your lip as you pumped up with your fingers wrapped around him. You wondered if it would hurt with how thick he was, your fingers not even meeting, and you pondered what the flesh would feel like on your tongue.

"(Y/N)?" His amused voice pulled you from your thoughts and your head had to tip back to look him in the eye with how close you were. A drop splatted onto the floor, and you realized what it was when your slick thighs rubbed against each other. A rumble rose in San's chest and his nose nuzzled over your ear again, then down your throat and he inhaled deeply. The rumble picked up and his warm spiced scent grew stronger, and you felt his cock harden fully in your grip.

"Let's get in." You whined a bit in disappointment when he pulled back, but he took your hand and led you down the little steps into the water. It was nice and hot, but not too much so, flower petals floating in the water and carrying with them their sweet aroma. He sat on the bench that sat inside the large wooden tub and he hauled you into his lap, legs straddling his lap. You watched the wavy image of his tail through the water, your tail not able to wag as hard with the water resistance. As you rested on his lap, his hard cock pressed to your tummy and you pressed into it more, making him groan.

"You need to stop doing that if we're going to wait." His tone was a bit harder, his brow furrowing after your next press closer to him.

"Wait for what?" You gave him a coy look. You knew it would be "proper" to wait till you were actually in a bed to…bed each other, but…

"(Y/N), love, don't you want your first time to be-" He grunted when you leaned in, your breasts pressing into his chest, and he had to close his eyes to think.

"San, I don't care if you take me here, now, or in that bed. What matters is it's you." You rested your head on his shoulder, nose nuzzling his neck, your head feeling foggy as you breathed in his scent. You heard the water sloshing before you felt anything, but his strong arms had wrapped around you, lifting you up a bit. His lips crashed to yours as he maneuvered you, only pulling away so he could flip you around. Your back pressed to his chest and he had you rest your knees over his so he could hold your legs open. Even with the water of the bath, your slick was still stuck to your folds, and he groaned as he ran two fingers over you. Your whole body jerked, thighs twitching at the little bit of friction, already sensitive. San's arm held you to him as his index finger breached your entrance, your slick easily letting him in. You had noticed earlier that he had filed his claw-like nails down to blunt them, and now you knew why. You had expected a bit of a sting at his finger's entrance, but you only felt pleasure. You had…tested on yourself before, but his fingers were longer and thicker, and your head fell back over his shoulder as a second joined the first. He grinned, watching your cunt swallow his fingers, his tail sliding through the water to wrap over your thigh, holding it to his. San ground the palm of his hand against your clit and your gummy walls clenched around the digits inside and he heard you whine right into his ear. Under normal circumstances, your flitting ears and tail would tickle, but he could use them to tell just how you were reacting.

"S-San!" You gasped, the pleasure he was bringing over you rising fast and your blunt nails dug lightly into his arm where you gripped it.

"Good girl, (Y/N). Fall apart for me." His prompting words led you to your climax and he rumbled as your cunt clenched and pulsed as your orgasm hit. When the little twitches finally died, your body slumped into his, he removed his fingers and helped move you once more. You faced him again and your nails dug harder into his shoulders as he held you over him, the head of his cock rubbing through your folds.

"Ready, princess?" He smirked a bit at the pet-name, though it was completely and officially accurate now.

"Please." You leaned down and kissed the corner of his mouth and down his neck. San grunted and your grip on him tightened as he pressed you down, fat cock finally breaching your entrance. It stung, burned in the best way though, the rubbery spines of his cock flicking against your clit as he finally got the head all the way in. The rest of his dick followed a bit easier, but each little increment deeper, the spines rubbed against the ridges of your cunt. He was only halfway in when you threw your head back, breath harsh, chest heaving at the sensation of him splitting you open. Your cunt spasmed and pulsed, you were already close, heat pooling and growing in your groin and lower stomach. Your flowery scent filled the air even more than the petals in the water, the pleasure and pheromones your husband were letting off spurring you into a semi-heat. Immediately, your cunt slicked even further, the thick wet not able to be washed away by the water. As he started to bottom out, the spines at the base of his cock flicked over your clit and against the folds of your pussy and you shuddered hard as your groin met his. San barely shifted and that was all it took, your second orgasm hitting quicker and harder than the first. His growl rumbled through his chest, you and the room as your cunt clenched hard around him.

"Fuck-" You swore softly and hearing the vulgar word leave your soft, sweet lips made him groan.

"Are you okay, love?"

"J-just give me a second." You were still shuddering in his arms, tiny waves still pulsing through your cunt.

"I can't last much longer." He warned and you shifted once yourself, pressing your knees harder into the bench of the bath and you nodded jerkily. You were prepared…well, you thought you were. San's arms around you tightened, almost to hold you in place, and he lifted you off his cock some, the pumped up his hips, fucking back into you deep. Your head flew back so hard he was a bit concerned, but he continued his thrusts, not even pulling out halfway before filling you once more. The water sloshed around you, your tail wagging hard through the water, his own wrapped around your right thigh.

"Shit-" He grunted, pressing you to him and standing. You yelped at his movement but then he lightly rested you against the rounded edge of the wooden tub. He reached past your head for a towel and balled it under your head.

"San?" You didn't get an answer to your prompting tone, and your breath hitched as he hauled your legs up to wrap around his narrow waist. One hand rested against your thigh to hold your leg up, the other taking your hand from his shoulder and lifting it up above your head. His fingers linked with yours, holding your hand tightly as his lips hovered over yours.

"Hold on, princess." He more or less warned, and your other hand flew to the narrow wooden column near you, barely getting a hold on it before he snapped his hips, relentlessly barreling his cock into you, head battering your back walls. You let out a choking sound, followed by unintelligible whimpers and babbles, your next orgasm rising already. With each thrust, he ground his hips down, the spines at the base of his cock teasing your clit and he didn't even slow down as your third orgasm crashed over you. If anything, it made him go harder, the water around his legs sloshing hard. He was full on growling at that point, tongue running over his long canines, a drop of saliva falling past his lips and into your mouth, gaping open, drool dripping from the side. Your eyes rolled back as his pace seemed to pick up, the thrusts somewhat shallower but even harder.

"Fucking hell, love, you're taking me so well." San rumbled, watching his fat cock split you open, the shine of your slick and cum on his cock made his head swim.

"Want me to cum inside? Fuck my cub into you?" He laughed cockily; eyes fixed on the joining of your bodies. You both weren't even sure how easy it would be for you to conceive, and he honestly didn't care if you couldn't. He was so far down the line of succession himself, let alone his kids. Though, if it was harder, that just meant he could try all the harder.

"Please! San, want your cum!" You whimpered, neither of you caring anymore if the servants heard the filth spilling from your mouths.

"Gonna make you my mate too, my wife…" He growled and his thrusts grew unsteady, his nose nuzzled your neck again and your breath hitched as the sharp ends of his canines met your skin. Your blunt nails dug into the wood of the column, hand gripping his hard as he finally fell over the edge himself. His teeth sank in as he came, white, hot spurts of cum coating your walls and filling your womb. Your orgasm helped him ride out his, core gripping him hard, eagerly drinking in his seed. You felt like you almost blacked out, brain clearing some as he stopped, licking over the bite wound in your shoulder. He pulled back enough to look down at your worn-out body, face red and splotchy but still so cute, so pretty. And you were all his.

The next few minutes passed with a blur; all of the servants being called to leave the hallway leading from the bath to your bedchambers. You only realized you had changed location when the still-wet skin of your back hit the silk sheets, and San was filling you back up. You had nothing to hold onto, so you white knuckled the sheet of the futon under you. Your legs were thrown over San’s wide shoulders, ankles by his ears, and animalistic noises were leaving him. He was salivating like a hungry…well, tiger, growls turning into near roars. You weren’t sure how many more orgasms he fucked out of you before he filled your womb with even more of his seed. Your mind was nearly gone, only little squeaks leaving you as you flipped you over, hips raised in the air, chest pressed to the bed below. His giant cock, with all those blasted spines, carved into you, and your cunt clenched hard, molding to him. You were both a mess already, the bath having been nearly negated. Sweat dripped from his brow onto your bare back, a thick mix of your releases coating both your thighs and forming a puddle below. A dark stain from the tears caused by the overwhelming sensations and drool formed below your cheek. Even with his claws blunted, they tore into the bedding some as he leaned over you, hips pumping hard, the slap of skin muffled by his grunts.

“One more for me, princess. Gonna get you pregnant, keep you stuffed full till you do.” He chuckled, pace stuttering, and your vision spotted as he came once more, squirts and sprays of your own release soaking his groin further. Soon, all that could be heard was both of your panting breaths and you were having trouble staying awake, all strength leaving your body. That was when something terrifying hit you…he was still hard.

hanbok - traditional/historical clothing, most people think of women's dresses, but men's clothes were called this as well. sseugaechima - this is the extra-skirt looking garment women would wear over the heads. gat - this is the hat that noblemen would wear, more specifically the ones that were black and made of mesh. jeogori - the top/shirt part of a hanbok. hangul - the Korean alphabet we use today. hanja - the old Korean characters derived from Chinese used prior to Hangul's creation. jeongjagwan - a type of gat that noblemen would wear, it looks much like a pagoda. binyeo - the long pin that would hold a woman's bun up, mostly used for married women. cheopji - a hair accessory worn by women, looks similar to a headband with a clip or pin in the middle. manggeon - the mesh-like headband men wore to hold their hair in place sokchima - basically a dress/skirt like under-garment. sokbaji - pants-like under-garment, mostly worn by women actually...

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[ineffableigh]

Wait what the hell is Aziraphale mouthing here. Lip-readers sound off!!

This is RIGHT before "The Metatron! I don't think he's as bad a fellow - well I think I might have misjudged him."

His line was: "I, um... [mouthing something]" THEN the above line.

This can't be nothing. Can it? "We need to get out"??? Not sure. EDIT: I agree with @maximumpenguinpuppy here, I think he's saying

"WE NEED HELP."

Further deep dive on the most painful conversation I've ever seen:

Azi makes the most INTENSE EYE CONTACT I'VE EVER SEEN during "I think I might have misjudged him."

"PLEASE HEAR WHAT I AM SAYING TO YOU RIGHT NOW."

After a few intercuts with the flashbacks we get to the really painful bit.

"He said that I could appoint you... to be an angel." His voice is so strained and high pitched even for him, here.

"Like the old times, only even NICER!"

The super nice old times where you couldn't be together at all, eh?

Crowley starts his confession and we get the "What the blazes is he doing?" face as he starts to realize Crowley is NOT picking up on any of this. Azi's breathing heavily here, revealing how very stressed the fuck out he is.

After this point is when things get really hard to interpret. Aziraphale sounds so genuine about "Come with me!" and "We can make a difference, I'll run it and you'll be my second in command." It feels like Crowley starting his very real confession broke through the charade of 'The Metatron knows something and we're in fucking danger'.

He blathers about Angels and Doing Good before breaking again, letting the "I need you!" slip. We get this HALF A SECOND look of the most profound sadness right before the "I don't think you understand what I'm offering you."

"You idiot. We could have been us."

Azi looks like he can't believe just how badly this went. This is right before he looks away.

OH NO NOW I'VE SEEN CROWLEY'S FACE RIGHT WHEN HE STARTS TO GO OVER FOR THE KISS AH MY FEELS

Azi is not hiding his emotions well, right before the grab:

Then of course we get the I Forgive You, which sounds like his most bitter one yet. A flash of anger and resentment, frustration, immediately followed by remorse and grief.

Having seen all that, my best guess now is:

Metatron made the (barely) veiled De Facto Partnership threats, implying he knows about the body swap and, implicitly, threatening Crowley with Holy Water, at least to some extent.

Aziraphale tries his damnedest to communicate to Crowley that Something is Fucking Wrong and they Have to Go to Heaven to Fix It.

Crowley, having been primed by the various chats with Nina and then the 2v1 chat with Nina and Maggie RIGHT before this, clearly timed by the Metatron, fully misses all of this and takes it all at face value.

Crowley starts to give his confession and Aziraphale realizes what he's trying to say, tries to adjust his Heaven Pitch to hinge on staying together as a team to fix things."

"You cannot leave this bookshop." "Nothing lasts forever." Azi has chosen the worst way to make another attempt at saying he has no choice but to leave the bookshop. I don't think this is about the Second Coming, given his reaction to the info later.

Everything deteriorates from there as Aziraphale tries again to imply something is Fucking Wrong by going back to the "Angels! Doing good!" shtick, but it's too late. It's always too late.

"I don't think you understand what I'm offering you." He doesn't but Azi is also communicating it very badly, likely because the Metatron is indeed watching.

Crowley thinks this is all real so he gives his No Nightingales line, etc etc. Aziraphale can tell there's no fixing this, gives up.

Crowley swoops in with The Kiss as a last ditch effort to get Azi to listen. Azi WAS listening, but cannot respond other than in anger and frustration that Crowley, in his view, refuses to listen to him again, has called him an idiot again. This happens multiple times throughout the show so there's history to fuel that assumption.

This is the precise outcome the Metatron was vying for, to split them up and emotionally/psychologically weaken them, to ensure there was no chance of a united front as there was for Armageddidn't.

My heart hurts, ow.

[hibiscusol]

BLUE - rafe cameron ⋆·˚✧ *

navigation ! masterlist

warnings: language and mentions of violence and alcohol/drugs

summary: rafe came to your window in the middle of the night, asking for help.

music: inspired by the second part of blue by billie eilish

You’re lying on your bed, your book lying on your bent knees as your eyes follow the words and the line. You might be reading it, but your mind is somewhere else. You’re thinking about you and Rafe’s argument at midsummers. The fight was stupid, you both said things you didn’t mean when you were high and upset each other. You know it’s gonna be okay again, that you’re gonna get back together again, but it’s been about a month and you two still haven’t talked yet.

As you sit there, your mind engulfed by the negative thoughts, your little sister who can barely walk tiptoes into your room. “Your boyfren ith here.” She mumbles and you sit up on your bed, putting your book down confusedly. “What, sweetie?” You ask, grabbing her and cradling her as you walk to the door. “Boyfren. Wafe. He’th at the window.” She says and points to her bedroom. You hurriedly walk inside and see Rafe, soaking wet in the pouring rain waiting on the balcony. You put your sister on her bed and run to the windows, opening them to let him in. “How did you even get up to the balcony?” You say angrily as he scoffs, your sister’s room’s floor getting soaking wet. He walks past you into your room, then straight to the bathroom. “The tree that we used to climb.” He whispers just loud enough for you to hear.

You turn the lights off and put your sister to bed, then run to the bathroom as you see rafe drying his hair with a towel. He has a black eye and his t-shirt has a pink bloody tint to it. You look closer and see that now that the shirt’s wet, you can see wounds through it. “What the fuck?” You say as you snatch the towel away from him. “Why… What makes you think you can wake up my 3-year-old sister in the middle of the night in this condition?” You yell and he turns around, putting a hand on your shoulder. “Shh! Keep it down. If your parents find out they’ll tell mine!” He says and rolls his eyes, then takes his shirt off and walks past you to find another one of his that he’s left in your closet from before. “Well, why not? You have bruises and cuts on your fucking body!” You say and he turns around. “Y/N… please, shut up. I’ll explain.” He says and pulls the shirt over his head. “Do you have any of my pants here?” He asks, seemingly nicer than before. You want to scream at him to get out, call him dumb for coming here in the middle of the night especially when you’re not together, but you can’t. You miss him.

“I…I bought one to give you for your birthday.” You say as you shuffle through your things, giving him a wrapped box from before you broke up. “Oh… thanks.” He doesn’t meet your eyes as he unwraps it and puts it on. “Could you tell me what the fuck is wrong now?” You say as he runs a hand through his head. “I… Y/N, just let me crash here, it’s nothing important.” He says dismissively, trying to get past you to the halway when you block his path. “Oh my god, Rafe, you’re telling me what’s wrong or I’m calling your dad!” You say as you see the anger flash through his eyes. That clearly triggered him.

“You’re not fucking doing that and we both know it. Nothing happened,” He says put you take another step towards him. “Nothing happened? Well, it looks like you and some of your jerk-off friends fought and you couldn’t go home looking this fucking horrible.” You say as he pushes you away, not hard enough for you to fall but enough to get out of his way. “Y/N, you don’t know what you’re fucking talking about.” He’s the one yelling now, and you don’t feel scared, just tired of this back and forth. “Rafe, you have a black eye, there are cuts on your body and you climbed a tree to get here. Even if I don’t know, I have to know now.” You say and rub your forehead. “I don’t hear from you for a month and this is what happens?” He runs his hand through his hair again, clearly feeling distressed. 

“It…It was my dad. He punched me and then threw me out of the car.” He says as walks out of your room into the hallway. You stand there for a minute, processing what he just said. His dad hit him? The Ward Cameron? You walk downstairs and see him in your living room. He’s let himself into your house like he’s family. Well, he used to be.

You want to go hug him, tell him you’re sorry, ask him more. But he’s not your boyfriend. He’s not the guy who came to your door on Junior prom to pick you up and kissed you under the long tree at the back of your house. The tree he climbed a year after today to run away from his dad.

“Has… has he done this before?” You whisper, and he turns around, seeing you in your laced pyjamas. It’s like the first time he’s actually looked at you tonight, the way your hair sits on your shoulder and the way your shorts and top hugs your curves. 

“Yes.” He says and turns towards the TV. You build up the courage to sit next to him, yet you still keep your distance. You miss him, even though he’s sitting right next to you.

“Tell me what happened,” You say and he grunts, turning his attention back to you. “I already did. Punched, thrown out the car. Didn’t have anywhere else to go.” He says, looking at you with a tired expression. “Of course you did. Why did you come here? We haven’t talked since midsummers.” You say and he looks down at the space in between you for a minute. 

“I… I don’t know, okay? Stop asking so much.” He says and looks back at the TV again. “I can leave.” He says, not looking back at you.

“Well, you’re not going to. I’m not letting you go back there. No fucking chance.” You say and get up, walking to the kitchen and getting him a med kit.

He notices you come back with it and shakes his head. “Nope. All good.” Is all he says, shifting in his seat. 

“Rafe, there’s blood seeping through your shirt, come on.” You say and sit closer to him. He gets the signal and put his arm on the sofa back, letting you lift his shirt up. “Can I?” You ask and he chuckles. “Shut up.” He says and you smile too. “What? We’re not together, so god knows where this body has been.” You say and he rolls his eyes. “I have not been with anyone since then.” He says, not getting offended but letting you know what he means. “Sure you haven’t. You can keep it in your pants for a whooooole month.” You say and he chuckles again. “I’m being serious. I haven’t been with anyone, and I’ve been sober since then.” He says, and you stop looking through the med kit, looking at him. “You quit drugs?” You say confusedly. “You actually, stopped, like, everything? Weed, coke, alcohol, all of it?”

“Mhm. Haven’t touched it since.” He says and rubs his eyes, you look at the clock. It’s 2 AM.

“Why?” You ask, looking away from him down to his cuts as you clean them with rubbing alcohol. “Because it made me lose you.” He says, and you don’t want to look up at him. You don’t want to see the blue eyes which he claims used to be green as a kid, the ones that are staring into your soul, searching for yours. 

“I was high too.” You mumble, taking a deep breath. “I didn’t take it to heart.” 

“I didn’t either.” He says, and you both sit in silence as you finish taking care of him, you sit back and sigh.

The TV is on mute, but none of you cares enough to reach and turn the volume up. You watch as the people move their mouths, with nothing getting out. “So what now?”

“Well, you can sleep in that guest room you liked and tomorrow, we’ll do something about Ward.” You say and he turns to you with a frown. “No, about us. Are we over?”

“Rafe, your dad beat you up. I think our relationship is the less important thing right now.” You say and rub your temples. “I don’t care about Ward. He’s done this since my mom died and he’ll do it again. He’s my dad and I can’t just call the cops on him, okay? So stop worrying and just talk to me. I miss you.” He says and you feel a tear sliding down his cheek. He’s going through all that, yet he’s still here and wants to talk to you.

“Hey, hey, come on now,” He leans in and cups your face, wiping the single tear away. You sniffle, shaking your head. 

When you open your eyes again, he’s so close. His face looks sad and his lips are slightly parted, and right when you catch yourself looking at them, you realize he’d looking at yours. “Would it be bad if I kissed you?” He says and chuckles. “I don’t kiss boys with a black eye.” You say and smile, and he chuckles, throwing his head back for a second. “I missed you. Now shut up,” He whispers before connecting his lips to yours.

[hemlock-dreams]

Hypothetically, if you were going to write hunting!spider as a fic, how would you do it? Like, where would the story start—with Peter as the bartender, or his backstory? Would you flash back to his old universe?

-🕊️

Like this:

Peter hasn’t worn the suit since here got here. He hasn’t done much in the last two months of his new existence beyond haunting New York like a phantom, trying to figure out who he is and where he stands in a reality that hasn’t been unfortunate enough to have a Peter Parker in the first place.

Or a Spiderman.

Strange hadn’t been kidding about the magic. Peter feels like the victim of his own hubris, asking for a clean start, a world where no one knew him. He’d asked and he’d been delivered.

Almost. 

The world is there, technically, but it’s like looking at a painting he’s seen a thousand times, only to realize the details are off. It’s the phones with the home button on the bottom, the different slang, the green money, all his favorite songs with wildly different lyrics, so many painful differences- a slow death by a thousand cuts.

Peter thought it would be easier, like a new beginning stretching out ahead of him, the sea-breeze smell of a fresh start after stepping out of Ryker’s. 

But Uncle Ben isn’t waiting for him at the docks this time. Nothing is waiting except the uncanny arms of a city that used to know him. Like running into an ex after years apart, recognizing the same general shape, but being strangers all the same.

Damn it. He should have asked Strange to take his memories too.

At least then Peter would know what to do with himself instead of haunting Brooklyn at night like a ghost, fighting the cognitive dissonance of taking turns he used to know like the back of his hand, only to be startled when they lead into dead-ends or open out into streets that shouldn’t exist.

That’s why he hasn’t worn the suit. Because forget being Spiderman, who the hell is Peter, here?

His melancholy is interrupted by a woman’s voice, faint if not for Peter’s enhanced senses.

“Listen, you’re a sweet guy, but I don’t like mixing work and my personal life.” The voice is extra sweet in the way women get when trying to talk themselves out of a dangerous situation.

No matter the lifetime, Peter can’t ignore that.

So he changes course, beelining towards the source with silence that’s more instinct than experience. He sticks to the shadows, easily avoiding the few flickering streetlights between him and the alleyway. His night vision pierces the darkness, tracing down the detailed shape of the tall, lanky man cornering a woman in the middle of the alley. 

He’s leaning, off-balance, clearly drunk, and boxing her in with one leather-clad arm, “Come on, Scarlett. I been asking for your number for weeks. Just one date, give a guy a chance, huh?”

Well, it was comforting to know that no matter the timeline, scum remained scum. 

“Paul, you’re wasted.” The woman- Scarlett, is draped against the wall, seemingly at ease and deceptively loose-limbed, even as she fists a set of keys between her knuckles, “Why don’t we have this discussion somewhere a little nicer? There’s a cute cafe that’s open tomorrow-”

“Fuck that. It’s always one excuse after another with you,” The guy- Paul- snarls, swaying from one foot to the other. The frustration is a ticking bomb,  “Why are you bein’ such a fucking bitch?”

Like clockwork, the slurs come out, and a peaceful resolution is no longer an option.

Scarlett realizes it too, because the hum of anxiety lacing her syrupy-sweet tone finally bleeds into her body. Her muscles lock, visibly entering fight or flight. 

That’s Peter’s cue.

“Is there a problem?” Peter’s voice is like a knife in the dark, popping the bubble and making the two flinch.

“Who the fuck are you?” Paul sneers, face slack and ugly from drink. “The fuck you think you’re doing, butting in?”

Peter ignores him, glancing towards Scarlett, who flicks her eyes between them and the rest of the alleyway. Unfortunately, there’s only one entrance and he’s blocking it. Out of options, Scarlett plasters herself to the wall.

“This is between the lady and me.” Paul is still talking, stumbling towards Peter, “But I’m a nice guy, so I’m going to give you a chance to turn ‘round and walk away.”

“Generous, but I’ll have to decline.” Peter murmurs and crosses the distance, invading his space before the man can respond. The promise of violence always lights something in Peter’s stomach, but for all the man’s shit-talking, the fight, if it can even be called that, is pathetic. Paul is so drunk Peter can taste it in the air, and his spidersense doesn’t even bother kicking in as he dodges one wobbly punch after the other. 

He doesn’t bother dragging it out. It only takes one good fist to the gut to drop Paul to the ground, followed by one good kick to the chest to keep him there. The aftermath is anticlimactic, awkward silence punctuated only by the rattling wheeze of the unconscious man beneath him.

Even pulling his punches, Peter probably cracked his ribs. It would take more effort than he’s got to feel sorry, especially since Scarlett is still glued to the wall, eyes trained on him and practically vibrating with adrenaline.

Slowly, Peter creates some space, backing out of the alleyway so he’s not obstructing the exit. “You gonna be alright?”

“Yeah.” Her reply is curt and wary, but Peter isn’t offended. He knows what he looks like, looming in the dark with his ratty clothes and unkempt beard. Best thing he can do to convince her of her safety is to walk away. 

So he does just that, and he’s almost halfway down the block when he hears her behind him, clacking heels loudly in the chill night air, “Wait!”

Peter pauses, turning around. 

Scarlett stops a few meters away, clutching the strap of her gym bag over her chest. “Sorry. That was rude of me. Thank you.”

Under the streetlights, her face is striking. Her bright green eyes are smoky and sensual, with bold cheekbones and dark lips framed by wisps of red hair falling out of a messy bun. She’s exactly the type of woman Peter would fantasize about back in Rykers, the kind he would see on pinups in Marko’s cell- tall and feminine, with lean legs and a waist Peter could span with both hands. 

The resolute look on her face reminds him so much of M-

He shunts that thought as soon as it appears.

“Don’t worry about it,” Peter responds with a shrug. He’s not stupid enough to lecture a grown woman about walking the streets at night. “Was there something else?”

Scarlett chews on her lip, eyes flicking back to the alley before settling on Peter for a few long beats. Whatever she sees in him makes her sigh, and some of the tension leeches from her shoulders. “Feel like walking a girl to her job?” 

Peter is a little surprised, and he takes a second to consider, mostly so he doesn’t look threatening, then nods, “Where to?” 

“Maggies.” At his confused look, she raises a brow, “Saint Margaret’s?” 

Still not ringing a bell, “Is that a…church?” He doesn’t remember any Saint Margaret’s in his Brooklyn, and it just reinforces that fish-out-of-water feeling that’s been choking him for the past few months.

“A church, sure.” Scarlett snorts derisively, laughing under her breath. When Peter doesn’t join in, she shoots him a wide-eyed look, “Oh. You’re serious. It’s an dance bar”  

Walking at night makes more sense now. That, and the obvious stage name. “I don’t know where that is. I’m…kind of new in town.”

“I can see that,” She says, and the gold of her hoop earrings catches the light as she falls in step beside him. Peter keeps his strides short and even, staying in her line of vision as they walk. It doesn’t escape his notice that she’s still got her keys between her knuckles, though they’re no longer clutched in a tight fist, “What brought you to New York, Mr. Good Samaritan?”

“Peter.” He says. “I was looking for a fresh start and kind of washed up here,” Peter feels like he’s being called out on some lie, as if anyone glancing in his direction will peg that he doesn’t belong.

But Scarlet is just nodding, unawares, “Nice to meet you, Peter. And I get it. That's why I moved here, too. It might take a bit of time to get your bearings, but it's worth it when you do." They’re heading down the street, taking a turn on 81st that should have led into a main thoroughfare but doesn’t, instead turning into another little set of streets full of gated-off shops covered in graffiti. Even the gang signs don’t look the same. He tries not to think about it.

“I appreciate what you did,” Scarlett is saying, “Paul’s been a pushy bastard but I thought it was all drunk bravado, you know? I never believed he’d actually follow me. I’m glad you were there, but I’m sorry it had to end in violence.”

Resorting to violence is one of Peter’s favorite pastimes, but he’s absolutely not going to admit that out loud. Instead, he hums, tucking his hands into his stained hoodie, “Some people only listen when it's fists talking. Hopefully the lesson sticks.” Peter frowns, “You said he followed you, does that mean he knows where you live?”

Men like that tend to hold grudges. Especially if they've been had their head knocked around in an alleyway.

“Thank god, no.” She shudders next to him, gripping the strap of her bag a little tighter at the thought, “He caught me coming from my day job. I’ll have to tell Weasel to put him on the blacklist for the club though…and change my shift. Ugh.” 

Peter nods in sympathy. Shiting schedules between two jobs is going to be a nightmare. “Weasel?” 

“The owner of Maggie’s.” She clarifies.

“Your boss is named Weasel?” Yikes. Peter can’t imagine what kind of shit someone had to do to earn that nickname.

“Yeah.” She laughs, “But don’t let the name fool you, he’s weird but he’s decent. There are lots of other clubs in the area but Weas lets us have a bigger cut than most other places. Plus, we get to set our own rules.” 

They cut the street, avoiding some dark patches where the streetlights gave out.

“That’s good.” Peter agrees, “Otherwise this is a pretty sketchy walk for a small paycheck.”  

It really is a sketchy walk, and his spidersense pings at odd moments, though nothing comes out of it save the odd junkie that wanders out of the shadows.

“I’ve had worse,” Scarlett shrugs, finally tucking her keys back into her purse. The stiff line of her shoulders has completely melted away now that they’re in what Peter assumes is familiar territory. “This is nothing compared to my last job.” 

“Which was?” 

“Telemarketing.”

Peter would rather take his chances soloing Thanos. “Point taken.” 

“We’re almost there. Just down the road.” Scarlett points one long acrylic nail toward a looming brick building punctuating the street. Peter wouldn’t have given it a second thought if not for the single garish neon sign of a scantily dressed nun at the corner, directing his attention towards a nondescript door.

“Welcome to Saint Margaret’s School for Wayward Children,” Scarlett enunciates each word with an eyebrow waggle, grinning when Peter cracks a smile. “Finest entertainment this side of Brooklyn. Thanks for walking me.” 

Peter doesn’t doubt it, especially if Scarlett is where they set the bar for dancers. “No worries. Stay safe, yeah?” Then he turns, intending to keep walking until his head is empty.

Scarlett pauses with her hand on the door, “You’re not going to come in?” 

“Not really my scene.” A true statement, one that doesn’t have to acknowledge that Peter is capital-b Broke. Hard to get a proper-paying job when he doesn’t legally exist. He’s done a few gigs under the table, but the last few weeks have left Peter sleeping on empty rooftops with an emptier stomach. 

“Really? I was hoping I could treat you to a drink. It’s the least I can do.” Scarlett sounds disappointed.

“You don’t owe me anything.” 

She puts a hand on her hip, “Fine. Let’s consider it a celebratory drink then.”

“For?”

“Ugh,” Scarlett rolls her eyes. There’s no way she doesn’t know how charming that is. “For getting rid of Paul. Making new friends- whatever you want.”

Peter huffs a small laugh, “Friends? We just met.” 

It’s not an outright refusal, because Peter is weak for the first real taste of human contact he’s had in months, and Scarlett smirks like she scents blood, “What can I say? I got a good feeling about you.”

Peter snorts. Now that’s a first. 

“C’mon, Tiger. One drink. What have you got to lose?”

Peter exhales a long, slow breath, “Nothing.”

[elssero]

/ MASKED

-elssero kintober

-ghostface!dabi x reader, college au!, loser!dabi, costume party, mentions of alcohol and drugs, bathroom sex, unprotected sex, actually really cute, dabi is insecure:. maybe a tiny bit ooc, but it's very cute.

a costume party? what a bore. there's a small itch in the back of your head- a silent plea. telling you to just go home- end the night early.

you were supposed to be studying tonight, a huge test was right around the corner and you knew you needed the extra hours looking over the content.

you couldn't help yourself when your roommate barged into your room an hour earlier begging you to join her and her friends. you deserved a break? right? you'd spend the entire day going over course work and a few hours wouldn't hurt?

rushing to get dressed and leave at the same time as her is a challenge but you refused to show up by yourself- far too nervous to even think about it.

your costume- if it could even be considered one is just a little pair of black cat ears, paired with the first matching outfit you pulled from your wardrobe.

the music in the house is far too loud for your alcohol levels- finding yourself next to an assortment of drinks layed out on a table. eventually finding your drink of choice. you turn around to talk to your roommate after what had to be only a few seconds to find her completely vanished-

great.

studying the crowds around you for a second- not finding any familiar faces you decide to make your way outside- recognising who you think to be a girl from your english class.

"oh hey!- sorry your uraraka right?" your silently hoping that she accepts your attempt at conversation seeing as you can't find anyone you actually know.

"uh yes i am?" she looks at you puzzled for a minute and you internally curse yourself for expecting her to recognise you-

"oh wait i know you! you sit behind me in english right? yn?" oh thank god.

"yes that's me! i'm sorry for barging into your conversation like this but my roommate quite literally disappeared on me." she only smiles at you in return-and your incredibly grateful.

"no don't worry about it! uh- if anything i'm glad you ran into me! i've been meaning to talk to you about what we're doing in class right now-" she rubs her hands together as she talks- clearly a little nervous.

"i'm struggling to fully understand what the professor wants us to do with this assignment thing-but you seem to get it pretty well? i was hoping you'd maybe explain it to me?" you flash the girl infront of you a teasing grin before asking for her number-promising you'll send her a text tomorrow so you guys can find a more appropriate time to meet up and discuss your project.

"hey um- do you know that guy over there? the one in the mask?" the girl points at a man with dark hair as she eyes him up suspiciously. "he's like- totally staring right at you- it's actually kind of creepy.."

you follow her line of sight and your immediately uneasy- his costume seems to be put together at the last minute, much like your own. but to say the vibe he gives off matches the mask would be an understatement.

despite his eyes being completely covered- his stare sends shivers up your spine. "uh- i'm not sure?"

"it doesn't look like you have much time to figure it out- he's heading this way." okay- this is fine. it's probably just some frat guy trying to be creepy.

uraraka doesn't stay by your side to figure it out- she leaves with a wink and a hushed good luck and by the time you turn around your face to face with the masked stranger.

"uh- hello there?" you try not to sound as nervous as you feel it's hard with the way he looms over you.

he seems to catch the nervousness in your voice-chuckling before he speaks- "sorry- did i scare you?"

his voice- despite the rasp is far nicer than you would've expected, the tease in his voice is evident.

"didn't mean to make you nervous- just wanted to introduce myself." you can't see the smirk on his face but you can hear it. "i'm dabi"

"i'm not nervous. just drunk- and on high alert." the he moves closer- you feel more at ease after hearing his name, certain you've heard it before.

"what'd say we head back inside- get something to drink."

a part of you wishes you'd said no- but you didn't. you allowed to him take your hand and lead you back inside. you let him fix you up some mixture of drinks that for the record tasted better than anything else you'd had to drink tonight and you'd let yourself relax- spend time with him.

the touches of your waist hadn't gone unnoticed- the way his hand lingered on yours when he passed you a cup- his arm looping around your shoulder when men approached- he seemed to like the game.

you however- we're getting sick and tired of the game. the heat pooling in your stomach was only growing with each of his little touches. enough was enough.

you grab his hand, forcing him to follow you into the first empty room you can find before you shut the door- locking it quickly behind you.

"woah pretty- what's going on? you okay?" you can't tell if the concern in his voice is false or not- but the way his hands grip your waist indicates he has ulterior motives.

your not the kind of person- you don't have one night stands- especially not with strangers, strangers whose faces you haven't even seen.

but with dabi it feels different- almost as though you can't help it, not with the heat growing in your core.

finding it difficult to find the words- instead opting to run your hands along his arms- hooking them together around his neck.

"what're you doing?" there's a laugh- a joke in his voice that completely contrasts with your seriousness-

"do you want me?"

it seems to stop his movements- the small circles he was tracing on your waist come to a hold and for a second you think you've got the wrong idea- "are you crazy?" he lets out a chuckle "of course i fucking want you"

"then what's taking you so long" it's said with newly found confidence.

"you haven't even seen my face?" some may take this as judgement- but you can tell there's more to it-something hidden. "¡ don't care" those three simple words seems to shock him.

"how?- how can you not care?" it's weird how within the hours that you've spent with the man you haven't felt the need to see what he looks like- it just feels right. "what you look like doesn't matter- jus' want you"

"fuck- baby are you sure?" his voice is strained- laced with a mix of hope and confusion. his hands begin to dig into your waist.

"yes- yes i'm sure" pulling him towards you by his neck- bringing him closer "need you- please-"

"okay- okay baby i got you-" he feels insane- crazy. to have somehow ended up so close to you, with your hands around his neck.

he'd been holding back- of course he has. he'd wanted you for as long as he can remember-you'd never know of course, that he'd had a silly crush on you for weeks.

you hike your clothes away from your lower half-exposing yourself, he has to take a second to double check he's still breathing before he shoves your underwear to the side-

he runs a finger across your slit- the dampness evident "fuck- baby your soaked." his pace is slow-

"your such a tease- been doing it all night" he lets out a chuckle at this "m'sorry- c'mere let me make it up to you-" before he slides a finger in before adding another. "oh-fuck" he slides his fingers in and out, keeping a steady pace "gotta prep you- gotta have you cum on my fingers first-"

he changes the angle slightly- fingers hitting a different spot "oh-oh" he takes notice of your reaction- increasing his pace "you like that?" you can't answer him as well as you'd like- he takes the increasing volume of your moans as a yes- "you gonna cum on my fingers pretty?"

it seems that the "yeah- just like that- let it go" you feel it coming- a release in your stomach before it happens- your cumming "dabi- fuck!"

he halts- seemingly staring at you as your mouth drops- listening to your moans as they leave your mouth-"you think you can go again?" there's an eagerness in his voice- one you can't refuse "yeah-yeah i wanna go again"

you grap at him- hand running over his bulge- not being able to waste a second before you take it out-trying not to seem shocked at the size. "wanna feel you-"

you go to take him in your hand before his is around your wrist- halting your movements "shit- baby don't talk like that"

"please- want it" and he groans- a low, deep sound.

"and i wanna last more than ten seconds-" he says it breathlessly- barely touched and he's already losing his mind.

he aligns himself- tip hitting your folds and you hear another deep moan from behind the mask."oh fuck-baby"

it's weird how intimate it is when he slips into you-moans mixing together with ease- your head falling back as he bottoms out.

"fuck- oh god." he moves against you without rhythm- instead it's desperate, rushed. "you f-feel so good"

it's unpracticed- but god does it feel good, it's like he's wanted this forever- the feeling is rubbing off on you"d-don't stop-"

"feel good baby?" he sounds cocky, and you can't even blame him because it does feel good "yeah-feels good"

it doesn't take him long before he's unraveling "fuck-think i'm gonna cum" he can't be blamed- he has wanted this forever. "it's fine- i'm protected" the sentence seems to enlighten something in him- his thrusts get faster- more uncontrolled "holy shit"

"fuck are you sure?" you wouldn't normally- but something about him just feels so right, so you let him.

"fuck- you can cum in me- it's okay" it's all the confirmation he needs before he's completely lost-blinded by pleasure "fuck baby- m'cumming!"

his face falls- landing in the crook of your neck, in the mist of his pleasure he doesn't notice how his mask gets caught in your hair- tugging it away from his face- falling to the ground with a loud thud.

you don't notice it either- not until you've came down from your high. he moves his head away from your neck- a loopy smile on his face as your eyes catch his, clearly still coming down from his own high.

it's not until he notices that your jaw has dropped-eyes wide when he thinks something might be wrong- he goes to speak- to ask if your okay before you beat him to it.

"touya?"

in an instant his eyes are blown even wider than yours- he wants to move, terrified of how you'll react know that you who he really is.

"it is you! i knew i recognised your voice" he blinks at you- your voice doesn't seem laced with any sort of malice, if anything there's a touch of excitement "oh god i hope this doesn't make class awkward."

this can't be right- surely not. why do you seem so calm about this? "uh- are you okay? you seem kinda out of it?"

"what's going on?" he seems kind of lost for words."why aren't you weirded out?" his frustration and confusion only makes you giggle.

"well- i've always thought u were cute, all quiet and mysterious." you give him a smile before continuing.

"this is a win for me."

he again- doesn't reply to you, instead looks at you in shock as you tidy yourself up, drunkly giggling to yourself as you do.

"hey uh- how about we get a ride back to my place, pick up some food on the way?" he can't fathom this- how cool you seem to be, how calm.

"uh- okay? sure." he's losing his mind he thinks, fixing himself up he lets you take his hand, dragging him out of the random bathroom you'd found yourself in.

you remind silent until you've dragged him all the way out of the house, fumbling your way to street while you wait on an uber "your kinda stupid touya- a cute stupid."

he fidgets with his fingers- but he doesn't fight the smile that appears on his face. "whatever- your paying for your own food."

[mangostarjam]

playing nice — kaiju no. 8, hoshina soshiro x f!reader, established... something, reader wears a skirt, shameless smut, face sitting, oral sex (f!receiving), doggy style, creampie, 1.7k words

"Sit."

Your thighs tremble as you hover above him. Hoshina Soshiro smooths his gloved hands over your bare legs. "What's gotten into you?"

"C'mon, darlin', just sit," he murmurs. You can barely see his easy smirk as you hitch your skirt up higher, exposing your damp panties with a sigh. "I'll swear it'll be nice."

"That's not the problem," you swallow. Red eyes peer up into yours and you shudder as he grips your thighs. The rough fabric of his gloves scratch against your skin. "Didn't you just come back from a mission?"

"Want me to take my gloves off?" Soshiro asks. You nod shakily and he grins, maintaining eye contact as he carefully, slowly removes his gloves with his teeth. Sharp canines flash in the warm afternoon light with each tug of fabric. "I didn't get dirty, y'know. I was busy directin' the troops."

"Doesn't matter," you say. "If you're gonna drag me in while I was having a perfectly lovely walk, you should be nicer about it."

Soshiro chuckles, tossing his gloves aside. His hands immediately go back to your thighs, pressing into the soft flesh and wrenching them slightly more apart. Your knees slip on his jacket that he's so helpfully placed beneath you, but his grip is steady and you barely even wobble thanks to his hold. It's hazy — your blood feels hot, thrumming in your veins, heat rushing to your cheeks and chest.

"I'm not a strong man," he says. Purple strands splay out along the hard wooden floor of the storage room he's dragged you into. "I saw ya in this cute lil skirt and just about lost my mind."

"I've noticed," you say drily. Soshiro's hands inch higher, teasing the edge of your panties, brushing your hip bones beneath the fabric. "You barely even kissed me, you know."

"But look at this," he mutters. Rough fingers dig into the sensitive skin of your inner thighs and you yelp as he drags your legs further apart. His breaths are warm against the soaked cotton as you sink closer and you can't help clenching in anticipation. "Ya still got all wet for me. So pretty."

You moan as he digs in, as he tugs your panties aside with a finger and drags his tongue through your soaked folds. Your legs weaken against your will, dropping you further onto his face as he groans and bumps your aching clit with his nose. Oh, god.

"Fuck me," you bite out, hips jerking forward.

Soshiro nips your thigh and you hiss, fingers clenching around your skirt. He chuckles into your pussy, red eyes gleaming a moment before he drags you forward, pressing more of your weight onto his face. Pleasure spikes as he groans, tongue digging in sloppily, each swipe feeding the growing ache in your center. Spit and your juices drip down his chin but he doesn't care — nothing else matters but your choked off whines.

Fuck, you sound so hot.

Soshiro wants more. He wants you aching and desperate, he wants you riding his face until you cum with that cute little cry that never fails to make his blood run hotter. Sometimes, if he works hard enough, you lose yourself and say his name.

Sometimes he makes you cry.

Not this time, though — you're clearly enjoying yourself, moaning as if you've forgotten this storage room isn't that far off the main walkways, but Soshiro doesn't mind. Everyone knows the Vice Captain's got eyes on you, and no matter how much you protest, the fact remains that he's the only one who gets to see you like this.

"H-Hoshina," you suck in a heaving breath, hips rolling against the flat of his tongue. He moans into your pussy and watches your lashes flutter at the feeling. "I'm — 'm getting close."

There's sweat beading along his temples and sliding into his hair. Soshiro moans again as your taste floods his tongue. Fuck, you look so pretty sitting on his face like this, with one hand keeping your skirt out of the way while you grope your chest with the other. His own hips twitch as you pinch your nipple through your shirt, the peaked nub poking through the fabric as you squeeze mercilessly.

Soshiro keeps his tongue stiff, bumping against your clit with every desperate grind of your hips. You hiss when he slides a finger into your tight, wet heat, prodding your insides until he nudges that spot that sets you on fire.

"Fuck — fuck, H-Hoshina, 'm gonna cum —!"

Heat lights up your veins as he sucks on your clit, digging his finger into that spongy spot inside you, his other hand firm on your hip as he forces you to grind on his face. God, you're so — he's so —

Soshiro moans and he looks so dazed, hazy eyes drinking in your every move. You're the only one who sees him like this — the powerful Vice Captain of the Third Division, reduced to a sweaty fucked out mess, just from eating you out. The thought makes you whimper, the ache in your core intensifying.

You whine loudly when he pulls back a little, the loss of suction terrifying as you spiral closer. Your free hand drops from your breast to his hair, tangling in the damp purple strands and tugging harshly. He grunts.

"Cum for me," Soshiro rasps out, sliding another finger into you. "Cum all over my fuckin' face."

He sucks your clit between his lips again, and it's — you're —

Shattering, splintering into fractures of light —

"Fuck, Soshiro — nghh —"

Soshiro doesn't let up, fingers digging in as you squeeze them in a vice grip, warmth gushing down his chin as he flattens his tongue and dips in to lick up every last drop.

He's so fucking hard right now it hurts, but he keeps licking your soft folds, his own hips twitching as he tries to find some relief from the fabric of his pants. You tug on his hair again and a whine slips out his throat, but you're smiling, breathless and glowing and so fucking pretty.

"Soshiro, c'mon, please —"

His teeth snag your panties and you giggle as he drags them off your legs. You wobble into a standing position and Soshiro wipes his fingers clean on your panties before tucking them into his back pocket, scrambling onto his knees and shoving his hair out of his face.

You drop down to kiss him, moaning at the taste of yourself as he touches you — hands gripping your hips and gliding up to grope your tits. Your fingers drag down his chest and fumble with his belt buckle as he laughs into the kiss.

"Want you inside," you breathe. "Want you to fill me up, Soshiro."

He groans and kisses you hard, hips bucking into your touch as you finally get his pants undone. Your hand is soft and warm as you grip his cock, squeezing the tip and smearing precum along the shaft. "Hands and knees, darlin' — 'm not gonna last."

You scramble into position on top of his jacket and flip your skirt up, exposing your bare ass and peeking over your shoulder as your blush deepens. "Please, Soshiro."

He lines himself up with a hiss as your juices coat the tip of his cock. You squirm at the feeling, nudging your hips back until the head slips in. Both of you moan — your breaths shuddering at the stretch, his chest seizing as your tight, wet heat sucks him in.

You feel — like heaven, like hell — he slides home, a rough noise punching out of his throat. Fucking — Soshiro pulls back and carefully pushes in, trying not to cum as your ass jiggles with the movement.

You whine and clench around him, and — he snaps.

Rough, desperate strokes, hips slamming into your welcoming heat. Soshiro nearly loses his mind when you push back against him, meeting him with every thrust. He holds onto your hips, hard enough to bruise.

Fucking — hell —

He leans forward and you sob at the change in angle, nearly collapsing onto your elbows as he hits that spot that makes you gush. Soshiro brushes his lips along the back of your neck, reaches around to fumble clumsily at your clit.

"So-Soshiro," you moan and god, you sound wrecked.

You do collapse forward as you cum with a cry, your spine arching beautifully. Soshiro lasts two more short, desperate strokes as you squeeze him tight, hips twitching as he unloads thick, hot streaks of cum deep into your pussy.

He grunts, teeth clamping down on your shoulder, white hot fire racing through his veins as his mind goes blank.

You moan weakly at the feeling, pussy fluttering around him. "You bit me," you gasp out breathlessly.

Soshiro presses a kiss to the mark in silent apology, but he's winded. "You're too cute."

The storage room is filled with your synced breathing as the two of you get yourselves under control. Soshiro nuzzles into your neck, lips skimming along smooth skin as he nudges your sweat soaked hair aside. He keeps his hands firm on your hips, holding you close.

You make a soft sound when he finally pulls out, rolling onto your back and immediately squeezing your legs together. Soshiro wipes off his cock with your ruined panties and tucks himself back into his pants, raising an eyebrow when you frown at him bashfully.

"I need those," you mumble.

"Ain't we goin' back to your room anyway?"

Your brow furrows. "Who says?"

"You're not gonna make it very far without your panties," Soshiro points out, crawling over you and kissing the tip of your nose. You wrinkle it cutely. "I'm off duty. Let's hang out."

You tip your chin up to kiss him properly, sweet and slow and languid. Soshiro's heart aches. "Fine," you murmur, "but only because I'm sleepy now."

Soshiro will take whatever he can get. He helps you stand, snickering when you wobble and dig your nails into his arm in retaliation. You don't seem to notice how much you're leaning into him as he bundles his dirty jacket under his other arm. "Didja want dinner?"

"Mm, no," you say. "Your cum is going to drip out if we don't hurry up."

"Alright, darlin'," he says. "Hey, that was pretty nice, right?"

The shimmery afternoon light lends a haze to the grounds as the two of you walk towards your building. Soshiro glances at you — you're glowing and just so pretty. He shoots you a lopsided smirk when you roll your eyes at him.

"Yes, it was nice."

Soshiro's grin softens and he presses a kiss to your temple. "Don't worry. I'll show ya how nice I can be."

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

Erm... Sorry? - Lando Norris

<word count - 1119>

"Lando?" You called out after just getting home. Your roommate, Lando, was home for the first time in a while. His job meant that he was away a lot, so it was nice to see him around. Sure, you enjoyed the quiet tranquility, but you missed him. 

"In here!" He shouted back as you located him in the living room. You couldn't help the goofy smile that grew across your face when you saw him. You stood near the couch, waiting for him to make a move. "So are you going to give your friend a hug, or are you just going to sit there?" you tutted with a sarcastic roll of your eyes. 

"I think I'll just sit here," he stifled back a laugh, looking you up and down. He really did miss you while he was away, more than he'd ever care to admit. Even if he could quite easily afford to live by himself in a much nicer apartment, the two of you had shared this one for years. 

You had been friends for nearly as long as you could remember, and your parents had always teased the two of you. They did even more so now that you still lived together, even after your completely different situations and lifestyles. 

You were Lando's one normal thing. When he didn't have a normal childhood, with karting, then racing and everything in between, he had one constant thing in his life. You. His one safe space, and his one best friend. And he'd give it all to keep it that way.

"Don't be a dick, Lando," you playfully scoffed, opening your arms out to him. That was all it took for him to lug himself off the couch and wrap his arms around you. "I missed you," he mumbled, but you could only feel the reverberations through your skull, not hear the words. 

"So, how was everything?" You asked, letting go of the embrace and sitting down on the couch beside him. "Good, good, very stressful though, to be honest," he nodded. Lando was always honest with you, since you could read him like a book. 

"You know, you should just take a night when you're there. No parties or anything, just a quiet night in your hotel room. Or you can call me, whatever suits. Might take the edge off," you told him. Yes, you had told him many times before, but it didn't hurt to rehash it.

"I know, baby, I know," he sighed, leaning his head back and resting it on the back of the couch. You sat there for a moment, mouth open like a goldfish. Baby? you thought to yourself. Lando clearly hadn't noticed what he had said.

"Did you, uhm, did you mean to call me that?" You stuttered, blushing profusely. You thought he could have just been taking the mick, but his lack of a reaction told you otherwise. "Call you what?" He asked, completely oblivious.

"Baby." You said, your eyes flickering up to his face to try and gauge any sort of a reaction. "What? I didn't call you-" he started, but then it clicked. His mind had cast back through the past few sentences, and he just looked at you, dumbfounded. 

"I, erm... Sorry? It just kinda... Slipped out," he reasoned, unable to make eye contact with you. You could see he too was also flushed as he ran a hand through his curly locks.  You both sat there in uncomfortable silence, neither of you knowing what to say. 

"Sorry..." Lando mumbled again, his eyes flashing up to yours and back down to his hands, which he was fidgeting with in his lap. Lando was mentally scolding himself - he couldn't believe he had let that slip. 

He had wanted to tease you by calling you an affectionate nickname, but he didn't mean for it to slip out in a genuine manner. It just rolled of his tongue naturally, almost out of habit. He liked the way it sounded when he was talking to you, it fit for him. 

"It's OK, it was an accident," you nodded, but it came off more as a fact that you were trying to convince yourself of. "Yeah, an accident, yeah," he confirmed, repeating the word over and over again in his head until he hopefully believed it. 

Your heart stopped for a second. You saw that particular glimmer in Lando's eye. The one that told you his was lying to you, but he was trying his best to conceal it. But, you didn't want to push it, things were awkward enough.

On the other hand, Lando was contemplating doing the exact opposite thing. He wanted to push it, arguably, too far. He could tell you had sussed him out, and he should have guessed that lying straight to your face would get him absolutely nowhere.

Without allowing himself a second thought, Lando put his hands on either of your cheeks and pulled you in, close to him. He slightly hesitated when his lips were barely even a millimeter away from yours, before mustering up all of the confidence he possibly had in his body. 

He pressed his lips against yours, the tension of the moment melting away for a slight moment, before he pulled away again. "Lando..." you sighed, placing an affectionate hand over one of the ones that were on your cheek.

Lando swiftly retracted his hands away from you. "Sorry, I just-"

"Lando,"

"I know, I know, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have kissed you I just-" Lando frantically rambled, his leg nervously bouncing up and down. "Lando, listen," you softly said, trying to calm him down and get him to think for a second. "No, but I shouldn't have done that after I called you-" He started fumbling again. 

You didn't know what else to do, so you tugged him closer to you and stole his lips with yours. "Take a breath for me, yeah? It's OK," you tried to soothe, but you could tell he was very embarrassed by what he had done. "Did you just kiss me?"

"It stopped you needlessly apologising, didn't it?"

"Needlessly? You mean I don't have to say sorry?" He asked, nearly completely gobsmacked. He thought you'd yell at him, maybe make him leave the apartment or leave yourself. "Are you going to keep rambling or are you going to kiss me again?" You asked, looking at him in a way you never had before. 

It was the softness of his touch, how tenderly he had kissed you. It left you surprised, but desperate for more. And Lando could happily give you more. "Now that I can do, baby." He smirked, pulling you closer again. But this time you weren't surprised, not in the slightest. 

A/N - I want to write, but the lack of motivation and inspiration I have had in, what feels like, the last few months is so frustrating. I wrote this a while back, just never posted it. I'm halfway through a couple requests, they are coming.💖

|masterlist|

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Down at the river

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Request: Hello, I love your stories and have an idea for werewolf Daryl. In wolf form, Daryl finds a reader who is swimming in the river and falls in love with her. In human form, he brings her to the group (no matter what time) but he is afraid to tell her about himself without knowing how much the reader has fallen in love with him. Preferably with smut at the end ;) Thanks♡

Down at the river, where the stream split was where people used to find Daryl during the days before and after the full moon. He'd be bathing in his changed form, or fishing to bring back a haul for his community.

But nowadays he spent his time around the area in hiding. Covered by the thick greenery he'd watch the new woman bathe in the river and catch his fish. She had skills he admired, and she was beautiful as well. Her hair down to be washed or up in a bun when just rinsing her body, she was beautiful.

Daryl traveled along with a supply cart between the communities. He was asked to be security because of the increase in walkers lately, but also because multiple carts had been robbed lately.

Daryl kept his eyes and ears open for any noises and caught something getting closer to the cart. It was too subtle for a human to hear, and too calculated to be a walker. He took his crossbow and watched for any movement but whatever it was stayed hidden.

Only when Daryl went to explain what he heard and let his guard down momentarily there was an opening to rush in, slash the tarp and grab whatever was underneath with both hands and running off.

Daryl was quick to grab his crossbow and follow the figure, easily catching up and hauling them up against a tree and watching all the produce fall to the ground.

"Where's yer camp?" Daryl snarled, inches away from your face. His gaze flickering around the area for any sign of backup.

"I swear it's just me. I found a cabin but fish isn't enough to live on.. Please I just want to eat." You raised your hands as much as possible, palms open and empty for the man to see you were harmless. He caught no sense of you lying to him, so he set you back down and handed you a small portion of what you had stolen. "Ya know we got communities. If ya wanna live nicer, try Alexandria." With the leftover produce in his hands and crossbow over his shoulder he turned around to walk away. "I know ya know where it is."

On his way back he couldn't help but flash back to when he saw you in the river. You knew your way around the woods and were a skilled survivor, but he couldn't let all of that make the heat rise in his cheeks.

"Was a lone woman. Left 'er with a warning." Daryl placed the produce back in the cart, clearly less than what was taken. "Some got squashed when she ran 'n dropped it. M'sorry."

Daryl went to find the cabin, locating it with ease and watching from afar. It was a nice place, and surrounded by walker traps. He remembered your complaints about eating just fish, so while you did know how to fish, hunting and animal trapping wasn't something you were familiar with.

Which is why he hunted down some small game and prepped it to leave at your door, boxed in a stupid tupperware box he took from Carol's kitchen.

He waited til the next full moon for you to knock on the community gate, but you never did.

Back in the woods, Daryl went to his usual spot. A giant pile of leaves becoming his base for those nights. A nice bed and a great hiding spot for his stuff. With the nights becoming colder again he didn't want to fish, opting for hunting instead. He ate his fill and trodged back to the place he'd call his bed for the night, quickly dozing off covered in yellow leaves.

That same night, at the cabin not far off you rested, unable to fall asleep with the lack of thick blankets. Tossing and turning and groaning in frustration you sat up, remembering the giant pile of fallen leaves a short walk away. You thought of stuffing the ratty duvet cover and making a thicker blanket that way and set off to where you had seen it.

Upon arrival you found.. something else as well. At the base of the pile laid a creature, covered partially under a golden blanket. 'Looks like we had the same idea.' The thought came and went as you stared at the large bear.

No, not a bear. Its shapes weren't bearlike.

You scanned the animal's features and got hit by a realisation like a truck. The creature in front of you bared a scar over its eye. Just like that man who let you have that food after you stole from his people. The greying fur indicated his older age too. It matched up perfectly. The long shaggy fur now looked entirely black in the small bits of moonlight passing through the trees, but you bet it was that same dark brown from your memories.

You ditched the plan of taking the leaves, as to not wake up the sleeping beast and turned back home to your cabin.

Despite the night's cold temperature you eventually passed out and slept til late in the morning.

By the time you went to head out, pushing open the cabin door you felt it hit something, shoving it along.

A quick look around the door showed a small wild boar, its throat cut and seemingly drained. But it looked clean aside from the rope burns around its leg. You took the boar inside and stashed it away, giving a quick glance at the plastic tub that held the other animals last time with a fond smile. Your mind wandered to the man who so kindly let you keep the food even after you stole from his people. You were convinced he was bringing you the animals and it warmed your heart.

Were you catching feelings for him?

Shrugging it off you went to set out into the woods to do your daily gatherings, sneaking along the area where you saw him sleep last night, but not finding anything that indicated he had been there besides the leaf pile being a mess. Your trip was ended quickly now that you didn't need to hunt or fish, so you decided to make the extra trip back to the leaf pile with your blanket cover after all.

The amount of walkers in the area increased quickly. It was like they were swarming in from all sides. Daryl had noticed it too. It wasn't safe for him anymore to sleep in the woods during full moons. His mind kept wandering to you, and went by the cabin a few times but never caught you there. He couldn't afford to camp around your home with his community needing food stockpiled if it got too bad outside the walls. He had to keep up the supply and needed to hunt.

It was late at night after two weeks of daily trap checking and hauling back food for his people when he was being summoned to the gate.

"This woman claims to know you, but not by name." Deanna's voice was stern, not trusting the stranger at her side.

Daryl gave you a once over and nodded, "yeah. Seen 'er out there. Traded food once or twice." It was cler you were hurt, and seeing the way you carried your bedsheets stuffed with items he made out you had to leave in a hurry. "Ya should rest. I'll take someone ta check yer old place in the mornin'."

The offer took you off guard but you welcomed it, thanking him for being so kind.

"Alright." Deanna stated quickly. " you may accompany mister Dixon for the night, since you two have a history together. Tomorrow morning mister Dixon can show you my home where we can continue this talk. Goodnight for now." With a kind smile she headed back home.

Daryl bid the guards a good night aa well before showing you the way to his shared home. "Ain't got a room fer ya yet, so yer gonna havta live with the couch tonight."

Daryl led you inside where you were met with Carol who was woken up by people coming to get Daryl earlier. You watched her as she got up and with a kind smile to greet you and introduced herself. When you responded with an introduction of yourself, Daryl made a mental note of your name. "Would you like some tea?"

She had practically readied everything already before you answered, so instead you just nodded and thanked her as she offered you a cup.

"I'm going back to bed. Find me when you need something, okay?" A small wave punctuated her leave as she disappeared up the stairs.

You stood with the tea in your hands, looking around the house and taking it all in. It had been years since you'd seen a house in this near perfect state, untouched by the dead, or the living that took everything they desired.

"Yer gon' be alrigh?" Daryl's voice was soft, like he was trying his best not to overwhelm you. He got to digging out blanket from the basket beside hus lounge chair and handed it to you along with an extra pillow.

"Thankyou. I'll be fine for the night." With tour bedsheet bag set to the side you sat down to undo your boots, remembering you had set your tea down and taking a sip before it got cold.

Daryl kind of just watched your scatterbrained self do five things at once until you were finally ready to lay down. Only then did he wish you a good night, and upon walking away he stopped for a second, turning towards you. "Name's Daryl, by the way."

It had been a while since you slept through the night and woke up with the smell of fresh breakfast being prepared. The groan you let out as you stretched earned you a call of good morning from the kitchen. Carol peeked her head past the corner and walked up with a new cup of tea.

While you waited for breakfast as Carol had instructed you went to unpack the stuff you brought. Trying to make a list for Daryl to help him on his trip to your cabin later today.

You stacked your clothes on the armrest beside you, clearly missing a couple of items that weren't on the closest pile when you ran. You dug out a canteen of water, some weapons and a solar powered lantern that was at the end of its life. The last thing all the way at the bottom was--

"Hey, where'd you get that?" Carol's curious tone had you jump up, pulled away from the focus on your task.

"Ya took it with ya? Empty?" You hadn't even noticed Daryl coming into the room, all dressed and ready to leave already.

Your gaze switched from Carol over to Daryl, and back to Carol again who was staring at her friend with a confused look on her face. "Daryl?"

Again your head moved to look at Daryl, who was chewing on the skin of his thumb. A clear sign of his nerves. "Took it ta bring 'er som meat. She weren't showin' at the gate so I took some to 'er home."

Carol raised her brows at that, but decided to stay quiet, going back to preparing the plate of breakfast for you and shooing Daryl out the door, who made a vocal protest of having to take you to Deanna. "I'll take her later. You go do your thing, she'll be here when you come home."

You smiled around a mouthful of food, loving the playful banter between the two.

With Daryl out the door, Carol went to take her own breakfast and sit down with you.

"So, how'd you two meet? Usually Daryl shares tales of his hunts, but I never heard anything about a woman."

You had to start improvising now. If you shared the truth there was a chance of being straight out the gate again. "He almost shot me." It was the first thing that came to mind, it was close enough to your first encounter where he would have shot you if you had beem further off. "He told me to find this place, but I got scared. I mentioned being tired of fish and he figured out where I lived." You shared a simple version of the whole truth that seemed to work well enough for Carol to move on.

After breakfast you washed up and Carol took you to see Deanna, where you went through some sort of interview initiation process. She talked about the inner workings of the community and finding a job for you based on your chat.

You found it strange, but you guessed it was a necessity.

Deanna gave you a quick tour of the community after deeming you not dangerous, showing you all the important places like the pantry, the infirmary and the vegetable gardens.

You got to search through the community clothing reserves and pick out some stuff to take home and take a much needed shower.

You had no idea how long you spent in the bathroom. All you knew was Daryl had come home by the time you were done.

It then hit you you never gave him a list of missing items.

"Hey." Daryl's eyes caught yours and for a second all he could see was you, with your soaked hair in the river. He shook the thought off and awkwardly pointed out the door. "Stripped the place. Come see what ya wanna keep?"

In your clean clothes and damp hair you followed Daryl outside, padding along down the porch steps and to the back of the truck parked in front of the house.

Together you sifted through the truck bed, taking out the items you wished to keep for yourself and sorting rhe rest into useful community items and stuff to take apart for material.

Spending the whole day going around the community with Daryl was the best time you had since the dead came back to life.

Just one day of donating your gathered items and clearing out your now bedroom was all it took to have those butterflies from back in your cabin flutter so much more intense than before.

But you kept it quiet, showed none of it. There was no way it would be okay to share something like that only a single day into it.

Where you went to bed content, Daryl ended up downstairs with a less positive mindset.

He was angry. Not at you, or anyone in general. He was angry with himself. He was angry for falling for you since day one and not having had the courage to show himself to you during the full moons.

Weeks passed where the two of you danced around each other in and out of the community, all the way up to the week of the full moon.

Daryl had to leave again in three days and his mind was plagueing him. He hated the idea of having to lie to you about his leave. He hated that he'd have to use your cabin and reinforce it in record time so he had a safe space to sleep.

But if yoy knew your cabin was walker-proof, you could want to move back and Daryl didn't want that. He wanted you to stay..

Around the community it was clear something was bugging Daryl, but most of them wouldn't even bother to find out what that something was. To Carol it was clear as day, and she made it her personal job to make sure Daryl talked to you before leaving.

"Pookie.." Carol sat down beside her friend who had been chainsmoking on the porch, leg bouncing and thumb almost bleeding from how much he bit it. "She's gonna be okay with it. The cabin, you. Everything."

Daryl only grumbled something in response. Something that sounded like you being afraid, which only made her laugh niw that she knew how the two of you had officially met.

Of course Darul had shared the whole truth with her, it's how Carol figured out her friend had been in love with the girl way before she had shown up at the community. Before he had caught her stealing, even.

"Daryl, look. It has been obvious that she's comfortable around you. You attacked her for stealing and lied about it to get her to stay." A soft reassuring smile ended her last sentence. "She's lived in the woods. She'll love your animal half."

Daryl spent the remainder of his cigarette mulling over Carol's words. She made so much sense it had to be true.

It took the rest of the day to mentally prepare him to go find you at home, and to his luck you were helping Carol in the kitchen.

He thanked the moon for Carol being there as well, he was going to need someone to back him up.

"Hey, Daryl." Carol happily greeted him from where she was showing you how to create her cookie dough, kneading it side by side with you.

The soft hum of the oven sounded through the kitchen as Daryl came over and leaned against the counter behind you.

"Man, I wish we had chocolate chips.. I miss those." You reminised to the old world and its delicious snacks that had your mouth water.

"I have some, we can set some dough aside for a small batch." Carol moved to separate a small portion of her dough for later. "Just keep those away from the regular ones. Daryl's allergic to chocolate and we don't want him getting sick."

Your brows furrowed in confusion, while Daryl glanced over at Carol's conversation starter.

"You're allergic to chocolate? That must suck.." You peeked away from your work to give Daryl and apologetic look.

He only shrugged it off, too busy with his confession to make a snarky comment. The kitchen fell silent again and he felt the panic gnaw at his skull again. He had to get it over with.

"S'watcha get when ya ain't fully human. Can't eat all kindsa food."

Carol smiled to herself when your hands stilled. In the reflection of the window you could see Daryl's worry clean on his face. You had to choose your words carefully.

"What else can't you have? You know, for if I'm ever in charge of dinner."

The response was one Daryl didn't see coming. It was clear in his little stutter as he found the words to reply. "Can't have grapes. So no wine either, not tha' I can get drunk anyways."

You were hoping he'd straight up say what he was thinking and not dance around the subject, but you saw he needed time. Back to questioning you went.

"So, what exactly is making you have those allergies? What non-human part, I mean." You kept peeking his way over your shoulder as you followed Carol's moves in cutting and placing the cookies.

"Yer gonna think 'm crazy. Feels gross sayn' it out loud." He couldn't even look up from the floor with how badly he wanted to disappear right now. His hands in his pockets plucking at any loose threads so he wouldn't chew his fingers down to the bone.

"You could always show her." Carol shrugged with the plate of raw cookies in her hands, placing it in the oven while you operated the door for her.

"Nah. S'too scary ta show jus' like tha'." He was getting restless, he had said what he wanted in a way, so why was he still so anxious about this whole thing?

"Scary? I swear I mistook you for a bear undernthat pile of leaves last month. You're pretty cute when you sleep." Your eyes squinted with the wide smile on your face, remembering that night in the woods.

Only when you saw Daryl's face become one of utter shock you couldn't hold back your laughter.

It took a moment for the situation to die down again, you catching your breath and Daryl still not knowing what to do.

But Carol did. "I told you so." With a shrug she kept moving around and continuing the baking process while Daryl's mind rattled and you reassured him once more.

"I came here after I saw you and realised who I found. If I saw you before I came here I would have been just as happy to have seen you, because I like you for who you are, not what you are."

Daryl's hands had by now found their way out of his pockets. One tucked underneath his armpit and the other being anxiohsly chewed on, the skin angry and red.

You abandoned your baking, trusting Carol to pick up, and took two steps towards him. Your hands found his, tugging them down to hold them in yours. "Daryl.."

You watched a million thought cross Daryl's eyes, his hands trembled in yours as he looked anywhere but at you.

With your hands intertwined you could feel the anxiety seep into you. The words you had ready all jumbled up and were unreachable in your head. The only difference was, you did find words when you looked Daryl in the eyes and he looked right back. The trembling of Daryl's hands in yours turned into full body jitters, lifting you on your tiptoes to press the quickest peck to his lips, quietly mumbling an 'I love you' against his chest.

For a moment the kitchen was quiet. No mure humming of the oven or rummaging on the counters. Carol had soundlessly slipped away too.

After a while of not getting a single response, Daryl's hands slipped from yours and for a second your heart broke. You were ready to step back and head out, ready to disappear when his hands settled on your lower back, fingers brushing over the fabric of your shirt ever so lightly. He was testing the waters and you let him. Daryl needed time to let everything sink in and give it a place.

Your hands hung limp at your side, unsure what to do with them but tensed as Daryl nuzzled against your hair, softly pressing and nudging you to look at him.

With you facing him again he lowered his head and press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips.

Your arms snaked around him, pressing further into him. "I love you, Daryl."

After the kiss Daryl kept nuzzling your cheek, a soft humm rumbling deep down in his chest.

He may have not said it back, but it was clear in his actions he felt the same way for you.

A/N: This request was fun! I'm sorry it took so long, I really hope it's what you wanted ♡♡

[hockeyshmockey]

the grudge

summary: in which olivia verstappen can't get over the things her family put her through so easily. max verstappen x sibling!oc

warnings: angst, mentions of neglect and abusive behavior. this is F I C T I O N I just needed to write angst with this song, so forgive me and don't consider any of this fact!!!!!

Olivia Verstappen had been through more in life than many of her peers. Yes, some would say she lived an extravagant life with her father's former career as a driver. Most people saw the nicer houses, the way she and Max had nicer machines than some of the other kids.

What they didn't see was the constant tension in their home. The way their mother had given the two of them to their father for major custody after he yelled, holding in her flinches as she gave in. The times her and Max were punished after an unsatisfactory result in a race.

As a child, Olivia had idolized her big brother. She wanted to go to his races, her mother humoring her, and one day she ended up behind the wheel. When her father saw the way she could almost keep up with her brother, the dollar signs started flashing. And so for a few years, Olivia imagined a dream where she and her brother ended up in Formula 1 together, the first brother and sister racing line up.

It only took about five years until things fell apart. Max and Olivia were with Jos full time, and the mans behavior was getting worse and worse. There were times after a race when Max would win, and Olivia would come second (even racing up in the next age group), and their father would scream at Olivia as Max watched his sister in silence.

Olivia always contemplated calling her mother and asking her to come for her on those nights.

And I try to be tough, but I wanna scream How could anybody do the things you did so easily?

When she was 13, Olivia went to the race track to practice before the first kart race of her season. The owner of the track had seemed shocked to see her, saying he had no equipment ready for her as her father had never called to register her for the upcoming season. Olivia had pedaled her bike home (because Jos could not be bothered driving his daughter the two miles out of the city to the race track), trying to calm the rage in her veins.

Max and her father were watching a race in the living room when she came inside. "You didn't sign me up for my karting season?" Olivia asked with barley a quiver in her voice as the two males looked at her.

"You aren't good enough," Jos said with little care, shrugging as he turned back to the tv. "I'm not spending money on a kid who comes in second place. It's a waste. You're a waste."

Her father didn't see, but Max could clearly see the way Olivia's lip quivered. Tears gathered in her eyes, but the girl took a deep breath, straightened her spine and nodded. She turned on her heel, headed into the bedroom and packed a bag.

That night, she did call Sophie and ask to come home. That would be the last time she would see her father for 6 years, and the beginning of the demise of her relationship with her brother.

And I doubt you ever think about the damage that you did But I hold onto every detail like my life depends on it

"Mijn liefje," a knock came on Olivia's door in her and her mother's apartment while she was getting ready for her graduation from University.

Two years of hard work, and Olivia was graduating with a degree in mechanical engineering. She already had an internship lined up with the Williams' Racing team while she pursued her secondary degree in Engineering and Aeronautics at Oxford.

At her heart, racing was still one of Olivia's passions. And while her opportunity to pursue it as a driver had been ruined by Jos, her heart for the sport remained. And so she had taken the jump, applying with Williams' Engineering department using her mothers last name. Her father was notorious on his own, but with Max now at Red Bull, she wanted to feel as if she made this entrance into the world of F1 on her own merit.

"Ja?" she said as she opened the door to her mother's strained smile. "What's wrong?"

"Your sister just got here," Sophie explained. "But she's brought your brother."

After Olivia left Jos and went back to live with Sophie, she had tried so hard to keep her relationship with Max stable. Her brother was one of her favorite people in the world. But when he had come to see them for the first time after the move, the older boy hadn't been happy to listen to anything Olivia had to say about her choice to leave.

In Max's mind, Olivia had given up. Their father had given her a test, and she had failed. Never did he consider that as hard as Jos was on Max, it was a two fold on Olivia who could never live up to her prodigy brother.

And so over the past 5 and a half years, Olivia and Max hardly saw each other. And when they did, it was clear things were different. Max was resistant to hear Olivia out or try to see things from her side, and Olivia decided to stop trying and just wear a brave face.

"Oh, okay," Olivia shrugged. She didn't know why Vic had brought Max, but the women walked out into the living area to see the two blondes sitting. Victoria leaped up and wrapped her arms around her little sister.

One of the best things to come out of Olivia's return to Sophie's custody and home, was her newfound relationship with Victoria. Living together had brought the two girls closer than before, and Vic was there when Olivia's mental health had been in the toilet after having to talk with Jos over the years.

"Olivia," Max cleared his throat and nodded as Victoria and Olivia pulled apart.

"Max," Olivia half smiled, clasping her hands together to hold back from wrapping her arms around her brother. "I didn't expect you today."

"I didn't know you were graduating," Max said, trying to keep the accusatory tone out of his voice.

"I sent an announcement to you and Dad," Olivia furrowed her eyes, Sophie nodding as she had helped the younger girl address the cards.

"I never got it," Max's lips thinned. "I didn't even know you were in school."

"Let's be honest, when have we talked in the last five years long enough for you to ask," Olivia scoffed as her mother put a hand on her shoulder.

"And you're working at Williams?" Max ran his hands through his hair. "Why are you working for them? They're not a winning team, you should-"

"I don't need to hear that Max," Olivia said calmly. "I don't need to hear about how what I'm doing isn't enough for you, or for our father. Don't worry, he reminds me enough every day for the whole fucking family."

"Olivia," Sophie said sharply as Max looked to her in shock.

"Dad said you two hadn't spoken in a few years," he said.

"No, he calls me about once a month to remind me what a failure he thinks I am," Olivia smiled weakly as Victoria looked at her with pity in her eyes. "It wasn't enough what he did to me those years ago, he's got to make sure he leaves a lasting impression, just in case I ever feel like I'm moving past it all."

I have nightmares each week 'bout that Friday in May One phone call from you and my entire world was changed

Two years pass. Job interviews are had, and it's with the last name Kumpen, that Olivia gets a job with Red Bull Racing after completing her Masters degree. She had spent a season working under the strong female presence of Hannah Schmitz and the legend Adrian Newey, learning more than she ever thought possible, and watching her brother fight and win his first championship.

After the season had ended, Max and Olivia had retreated to Monaco for a few weeks before Olivia would return to the factory for in person work. Jos had come to spend a weekend, and Olivia had put things aside to join him and Max for dinner.

"You know they only hired you because of Max," her father said after they had finished their salads and were waiting for their main course.

"Excuse me?" Olivia asked wide eyed. "They didn't know my last name was Verstappen until a month ago."

"You think they're that stupid?" Jos laughed as he sipped his drink and Max looked away, refusing to meet Olivia's eyes.

"Max?" she asked with dread in her heart.

"I'm sorry," Max shook his head as he watched his sister's heart shatter in front of his eyes. "I mentioned it to Christian. But I knew you would be such an asset. I wanted you on my team."

"More like he didn't think you could get hired somewhere else," Jos scoffed. "F1 isn't for losers. For complainers. You've never had-"

The man was cut off by Olivia standing up. "No," she said lowly. "You don't get to do this to me. You don't get to try to make me feel like this anymore. As far as I am concerned, I am not your daughter. Lose my number, forget me, I don't care. But I never want to see you again."

With that Olivia gathered her bag and walked out of the restaurant. She went to wave her arm for a taxi when she felt a hand encircle her wrist, yanking it free and whipping around to glare at her brother.

"Olivia please-" he began to plead.

"No," she shook her head. "No. I'm done. You knew. I really thought you finally understood how I felt. But then you do this. You take this accomplishment that I was so proud of. I was so proud to think I had finally proved myself. That little girl who was screamed at every time she wasn't good enough. Told she would never amount to anything, I finally felt like she was healed. And you just fucked that up for me."

"Livvy it wasn't like that," Max fell into the use of his old nickname for her. "Please. You did get this job on your own. I promise. Talk to Christian ok? Let him tell you-"

"No Max," Olivia sighed. "No. I can't do this anymore. I really thought this was what I needed to feel healed. To fight with you and win, to get a championship and know that was a way to fulfill my dreams. But being around him every day, being around him at all, thats not something I can do anymore. And as much as I know you see it more now, I don't think you'll ever be able to get out from his thumb and from the weight of his expectations. I love you, but that's not something I can put myself through any longer."

"Livvy what does that mean?" Max asked as she turned back to the street and hailed a cab. "Please. Will I see you in England in a week? Please."

Olivia looked back at him with a sad smile before climbing into the waiting car.

Yeah, I'm so tough when I'm alone, and I make you feel so guilty And I fantasize about a time you're a little fuckin' sorry

"Max, have a good off season?" the reigning world champion was asked in his first media day of the 2021 season.

"Yeah mate," the Dutchman smiled. "Got some good relaxation in. Spent some time in the sim. It was good, but I'm glad to be back." The interviewer asked a few more standard questions out of the way before he dropped the bomb.

"So, we got some information in during testing but things have unfolded since and we wanted to bring it up with you." At the interviewers lead in, Max got hesitant and his media officer creeped closer, ready to intervene.

"It's come to our attention, that your little sister was a Junior Strategist with Red Bull last season," the interviewer asked.

"Ah, yes," Max nodded. "That was her first season with us after she interned with Williams."

"Of course," the man nodded. "Quite impressive, getting to work with Hannah Schmitz and Adrian Newey. Interning with Williams, advanced degree from Oxford. That is some talent."

"It is," Max said proudly. "She's been a star, and I've been so thankful to have her with the team."

"So what do you think about her signing a contract to join Mercedes for the next three seasons to work with Lewis?"

But even after all this, you're still everything to me And I know you don't care, I guess that that's fine

It's 2024.

Things were reversed. In 2020, Olivia had watched wistfully as Max had stood on top of his car, pumping his arms as he won his first WDC. In Abu Dhabi 2024, Max was watching from the second step as Lewis held up his trophy that had won the man his eighth World Championship.

Max held his breath as he looked to the side of the stage as Mercedes sent up a representative to gather the trophy for the constructors. To his surprise it wasn't Toto heading onto the stage, but his baby sister.

His breath stalled in his chest as Lewis and George both hopped of their podiums to wrap their arms around Olivia. His sister had the biggest smile on her face as she accepted their embraces before turning to the officials, and shaking hands as she made her way to the fourth step and the trophy waiting for her.

Three years at Mercedes had turned Olivia into a rising star. She was the second seat on Lewis' pit wall, making several calls that season that had led to Lewis securing a strong lead in the WDC standings. Toto and the team always sang her praises, and Max knew Red Bull regretted the situation that lost her to their biggest rival.

As the British National Anthem began to play, Max caught his sister's eye and smiled, sending her a nod. The girl smiled with her eyes, but he knew things weren't the same.

She wasn't ready to forgive, and she wouldn't ever be able to forget.

It takes strength to forgive, but I'm not quite sure I'm there yet

[skulla-rxcks]

A different kind of ride

Paring: Bang chan x fem reader

Rating: explicit

Genre: smut

Warnings: mention of alcohol, car s3x

Day 2 of k-tober

Taglist: @f3lix00 @channiesgoodgirl

!THIS IS PURE FICTION, NOTHING IN THIS IS REAL ITS JUST A STORY!

Loud music Is blasting, lights flashing: My boyfriend, Chan invited me to a release party that one of his friends were hosting to celebrate a new song they put out a few days ago.

I sigh, standing in a corner with a drink in my hand, watching Chan catch up with everyone at the party. After he’s done he walks back over to me noticing that I’m clearly not enjoying myself. “You okay?” He chuckles, putting his thumb under my chin, lifting it up; parting my lips with his fore finger which leaves me stunned wanting more. “Channie..” I whimper.

“Do you wanna get get out of here?” Chan whispers into my ear, wrapping his free arm around my waist; making me squirm and drop my drink. Parties aren’t really my thing, and he knows that; so of course I nod in response to him. He takes my hand and leads me out of the building, taking me to his car. “it’s definitely nicer in here than at the party..” I giggle, getting in the passenger seat. “mm yeah..” he sighs, placing his hand on my inner thigh rubbing his fingers against my soft skin. “wanna go to the backseat?” Chan suggests.

we move to the back of the car and before I know it my fingers are curled up in his hair, our lips touching each others. “you taste good..” I moan into the kiss, tugging his pants down as I do so. He smiles, pulling my skirt down my hips, then pulling my panties to the side. “fuck..” Chan breathes, pressing his fingers inside me as he kisses and sucks my neck. I moan loudly, feeling his fingers curl up inside of me. “mm, feels good doesn’t it baby..?” he teases, moving his fingers even faster; pressing them deeper inside my hole, as far as they can go. “Chan.. m gonna cum…”

“mm.. not yet, not yet baby.” he declines, pulling his fingers out of me before licking my juiced off of them. “wanna be inside you when you cum.. wanna make you cum around my dick” he whispers in my ear. He grabs out a condom from his wallet, proceeding to roll it onto his already hard and swallon cock. “please…” I cry, positioning myself on his lap, sliding down on him slowly, whining at how he stretches me. “fuck you’re tighter than last time..” Chan positions his hands on my hips as I bounce up and down on him; head and eyes rolling back in pleasure. “OH,,GOD~!” I cry out as I cum around him in hardly no time, I kiss him as i calm down from my release, feeling him fill up the condom shortly after due to how tight I was around him.

“how about we go home and have our own ‘little party’ hm?” Chan says, smirking with a glimmer in his eyes.

[hallahart]

here's 2000 words of self-indulgent solavellan veilguard reunion fic that is wildly noncanonical, apropos of nothing~

-

The Lighthouse, for all its depressing divorcée energy, is gorgeous—lots of magic lights, frescoes and paintings, high ceilings. Definitely nicer than the mud hovel Rook used to sleep in. But one mural (in what Rook is generously calling the living room—it has more of a tomb-like feel at the moment) is particularly eye-catching, seeing as how it’s about a story high: a woman reaching skyward, rising from the jaws of a snapping wolf with some kind of weird green geometric patterns surrounding her. 

“Who’s she?”

Rook doesn’t know Solas well enough to read him—the man is as impenetrable as Nevarran poetry—but they can hear his teeth grind from across the room. For a thousand year old god (or whatever), he sure is touchy.

“Must you pry into every nook and cranny?”

Rook ignores him, peers closer. “Oh, wait, I see it now. Green glowy hand, pointy ears. You know the Inquisitor?”

“I am surprised that Varric—“ he stops himself, starts over. “Yes. I knew her.”

He’s so obviously annoyed and uncomfortable that Rook has no choice but to wiggle their eyebrows. 

“Knew her, knew her?”

“The Inquisitor is of no concern to you.” Most people would probably backpedal when Fen’Harel looks at them like that, but Rook isn’t most people. They never really had a knack for survival instincts.

“Oh wow, you did, didn’t you?” Rook can’t quite imagine the standoffish man in front of them being romantic with anyone. He’s pretty…severe. They’re pretty sure he’s never smiled in their presence. “You know, I’ve never seen her in person, but those recruitment posters they put up back home—was she really so, you know…” Rook mimes some unlikely curves. 

Solas pinches his nose, and Rook is delighted to see a blush spread across his cheeks. “This conversation is over.”

Rook almost takes mercy on him. But apart from the sad silverware situation, this is the first glimpse of Solas they’ve gotten as a person and not some freaky wolf god with great taste in real estate. 

“So did she break up with you before or after she learned you were an evil trickster god?” They wiggle their fingers in mock menace.

Solas’ eyes flash and Rook knows they’ve gone too far. Whoops. Solas can’t kill them, not without possibly frying his own brain (or spirit, or whatever, Rook’s fuzzy on the details), but they’re sure he can make their life pretty damn unpleasant.

But all he does is sigh, the dark circles under his eyes deepening by the second, and holds up a hand. “Let us please focus on stopping the evanuris. Anything else is a…distraction.”

His voice is hoarse, and Rook immediately feels bad. Clearly this wasn't some meaningless fling (the twenty foot mural should have probably clued them in)—Solas is in it. Present tense. The sad empty rooms start to make a whole lot more sense.

You are the loneliest asshole I’ve ever met, they want to say.

“Yeah,” they say instead. “No problem. Plenty else to discuss. Ancient blighted gods freed from their eternal prisons, etcetera. Say no more.”

Rook can’t be certain, but they’re pretty sure the look on Solas’ face is grateful relief. 

What the hell happened between this guy and the Inquisitor that makes thinking about the gods that want him dead a relief?

___

Rook is lying on the couch pining over Taash and her stupid sexy crystal horn when Varric and Solas enter, already deep in furtive conversation.

The polite thing to do would be to let out a discreet cough to announce their presence. Rook burrows deeper into the pillows and holds their breath.

“Absolutely not, Varric,” Solas hisses. Sometimes he reminds Rook of a sad stray cat they used to feed. Very similar auras.

They come to a stop behind Rook’s couch. “Listen. I get it. Trust me. But if there’s anyone who can help us—“

“No. It is simply out of the question.”

“You’re going to have to face her eventually, you know.”

“There is no reason for the Inquisitor to involve herself. These are my mistakes to fix. Not hers.”

Rook can picture the pitying expression on Varric’s face. “Look around, Chuckles. Your Lighthouse isn’t empty anymore. Like it or not, you have to rely on the rest of us. And Ellana is already involved, even if you don’t want to admit it.”

“The Inquisitor is not—“

Varric scoffs in exasperation. “Took her arm off and can’t even say her name?”

Took her arm off? Whoa. Rook’s heard rumors, but…

There’s a brief pause. Rook can imagine the seething look Solas is giving Varric—it’s been pointed at them often enough. 

“Perhaps I should find a crossbow to name after her. Would that please you?”

Varric lets out a breath that’s half sigh, half chuckle. “Too soon. Way too soon.” 

Rook’s tried to pry into this whole romantic situation, of course, but Varric always deflects, saying something like Don’t even get me started or You’ll just have to pre-order my next book.

Another silence. Then Solas speaks again, his tone softening. “I have caused her enough grief.”

Varric sounds unmoved. “Yeah, by avoiding her for ten years. Has anyone ever told you that you’re impossible?”

“On occasion, yes.”

“Seriously, if you think she’s going to sit this one out now that she knows you’re here—“

Any gentleness is gone. “Excuse me?”

Varric’s nervous laugh makes Rook cringe deeper into the couch. “Yeah, about that… listen, you know it’s impossible for Sparkler to keep secrets from her. It was going to come out eventually, what with the whole ancient evil gods thing. I think she could put two and two together.”

Rook can practically feel the frost radiating from Solas’ voice. “You will tell her you were mistaken.”

“A little late for that,” Varric says sheepishly. “She’s, uh, arriving tomorrow.”

Rook winces at the slammed door that follows in the wake of this new information, and the movement is enough to give away their hiding spot. 

Varric peers down at them, his eyebrows raised. “You heard all that, huh?”

“Yeah,” Rook says, sitting up. “That was, uh…”

“Tell me about it.”Varric sighs, rubs a hand down his face. “Tomorrow is going to be a shitshow.”

___

Inquisitor Lavellan is very short in person. And she looks almost as tired as Solas. And she’s pretty–dark hair and skin, bright green eyes and a wry set to her mouth that looks out of place on the person who was supposed to be Andraste’s prophet. Rook was expecting someone a lot more dour and…Chantry-y. 

She’s also really obviously out of Fen’Harel’s league. No wonder he’s been pining for a decade.

She shakes their hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you from Varric,” she says.

“It’s an honor, your Worsh—uh, your Inquisitorial—“

“Ellana is fine,” she says—kindly, but impersonally, and Rook supposes she’s had this same interaction about ten billion times.

“Ellana, then,” Rook says, and she rewards them with a small smile.

“So you’re the one who interrupted the ritual,” she says. “With some rather interesting side effects, I hear.”

“You mean being magically linked to the grumpiest elf in Thedas? Yeah, interesting is one word for it.”

They’re arrested by the Inquisitor’s hand on their arm. “You could have been cruel to him, and few people would have blamed you. I must thank you for that.”

Her eyes are piercingly kind, and Rook suddenly understands how this woman had entire nations bowing to her will. They have no idea what to say, mouth dry.

“Still, I can’t imagine it’s been easy,” she continues, the wry smile back.

Rook shrugs, hoping their blush isn’t as red as it feels. “In terms of difficult personalities, he ranks a little below my Aunt Beryl, though Aunt Beryl couldn’t turn people to stone with—“

Then they spot Solas over the Inquisitor’s shoulder, hovering in the doorway like a ghost. He’s about as white as one, too.

“Inquisitor,” says Solas, his voice so void of emotion that it gapes like an open wound. 

Rook has a front row seat to the expression that plays across Inquisitor Lavellan’s face. Shock — she grabs the shoulder of her missing arm. Then something Rook can’t quite name—a deep well of some dark thing that makes them shiver, something they hope they never have to feel. 

And then her mouth settles into a grim line, eyes closing for a moment before she turns, back ramrod straight.  

“Solas,” she says, voice steady as she releases her shoulder. Solas’ eyes track the movement with his jaw set.

“You look well.”

It’s like he’s commenting on the weather. 

Rook, frankly, wants to throttle him. The woman you’ve painted onto every other surface of your house is right here, you idiot! Say something better than you look well! They try to communicate this through a series of glares, but Solas seems to have forgotten anyone but the Inquisitor exists. Fair enough.

“You look terrible,” she replies, stepping closer. Her voice is thick. Solas takes a step back.

“I think it best if we—“

“Solas,” she says, stepping forward again, and there is nowhere left for him to retreat. She has the Dread Wolf cornered. Slowly, as though taming a wild animal, she raises her hand to him, coming up to touch his face, the line of his jaw. “You’re really here.”

Rook backs away, knowing this is very much not for their eyes and ears, but—well, they’re nosy, and so they pause in the doorway, shamelessly eavesdropping. Luckily the two elves seem to have forgotten Rook’s even there.

Solas exhales roughly at her touch, ten years of tension rushing out of him in a moment. “Inquisitor—Ellana, I—“

“Hush,” she says, and drops her forehead to his.

Solas’ face crumples. “How can you—I do not deserve—” Rook can barely hear him.

“We have plenty to catch up on,” the Inquisitor murmurs, her voice gentle. “But you are alive, and safe. For now that is enough.”

Like a dam breaking, Solas reaches out, his arms wrapping around her like a drowning man, tight as a sieve. Rook is pretty sure he starts to cry, a sob coming from deep in his chest and shaking his entire frame.

Okay. Enough. Rook’s pretty sure Solas would actually murder them if he remembered they were still there. So they make their exit and ease the door closed without a sound.

They’re happy for him, despite everything. And they really hope they don’t fuck on Rook’s favorite couch.

[byuljoonie]

Cherry Airhead // pjm

You want a piece?

pairing: Jimin × fem!reader

genre: smut, roommates to lovers, friends to lovers, unedited so beware

word count: 2.3k

warnings: smut, unsafe sẽx, dirty talk, pet names, c0čk worship, spit play, fuckboy!Jimin, pj bottoms…, oral, (he’s big), dom!jimin x sub!reader, rough jimin, eavesdropping Jimin

note: I put a little too much effort into the plot so the smut isn’t exactly how I want it…hope you still enjoy it 🕴🏾reader request coming next

“Jimin! Someone’s at the door for you!” you yelled unenthusiastically. Waiting for the long haired man to emerge from his room.

“Are you his…girlfriend?” The unknown woman questioned sourly, looking you up and down in disgust.

“No, I’m his roommate. But we fuck sometimes,” you say seriously, letting your ego take over and guide the conversation. If she was going to be rude so were you.

You watched the color drain from her skin, looking like a deer in oncoming headlights.

“Coming!” Jimin bursts from his room with a towel wrapped around his waist. Water still dripping from his freshly showered hair onto his exposed chest.

“Who’s her-“ he said out of breath, stopping when you moved over to reveal the guest.

“What are you doing here, Hyejin?” He said coldly, standing unimpressed in the living room.

“When did you get a girlfriend, Jimin?” She asked looking between you and Jimin.

“Girlfriend?” He questioned confused. You couldn’t hold it in anymore, you burst into a small fit of laughter. Jimin leaning against the couch, trying to stifle a laugh.

“Okay I lied, but I just think you shouldn’t be a bitch to other people in their own home.” You confessed with a shrug, walking past Jimin with a pat on his shoulder.

You entered your room not interested in the argument Jimin was about to have with another one of his obsessed conquests.

After 10 minutes of muffled yelling and the slam of a door, a knock rang through your apartment. Jimin was at your bedroom door.

“Open the door, Sunny.” He said voice rumbling from the other side of the door.

“Oh, now I’m your sunshine. What about her?” You asked playfully, opening the door for him.

“Don’t start. Did she say anything to you?” He asked concernedly, searching your face for answers.

“I’m fine, Park. You should pick nicer fuck buddies though.” You say nonchalantly walking back over to your bed.

Jimin trailed closely behind you, grabbing your arm and spinning you around to face him. You squeaked in surprise, holding onto Jimin’s arm.

“What was that, sunshine?” He questioned deeply. “I don’t think I heard you clearly.” Your heart began to race and you quickly removed your hand from his bicep.

“Nothing.” You murmur looking down at the space between the two of you.

He placed his hand under your chin, gently making you look at him. He cocked an eyebrow in suspicion.

“Hmm, well go get the popcorn ready. I’ll get dressed so we can start our movie night.” He said sweetly, flashing you a gummy smile before poking his tongue out at you.

“Did you eat another cherry airhead in the shower? Your tongue is bright red!” You exclaimed slapping his bare chest. He recoiled in pain, a faux pout now on his lips.

“Hey, I blame you for putting a candy bowl in my room,” he said shrugging his shoulders. “You want a piece?” He questioned teasingly, walking to leave your room.

“Oh! Let’s wear the Pajamas you bought us yesterday. I think it’d be cute.” Jimin said down the hall, not listening for your rebuttal.

After changing into your plaid Pajama shorts and one of Jimin’s shirts, you walked out to the living room to prepare the movie.

“We’re watching horror movies right, Minie?” You yelled while bending over to check the dvd player.

“What did you say, hon- woah.” Jimin said, stopping in his tracks.

His eyes fell directly on your ass, the bulge in his pants growing slightly.

“What? I said we’re watching horror movies right?” You asked obliviously. Squatting down to grab a handful of dvds from under the TV console.

Jimin clears his throat eyes still unmoving. He walked further into the living room, plopping on the couch behind you.

“I’ll take your silence and heavy breathing as a yes. Anyways the pizza should be here soon.” You said standing up to turn around.

You were met with the sight of your best friend shirtless and slightly sweaty on your shared couch. Your eyes widened at the sight, heat invading your cheeks.

Maybe you did have a small crush on Jimin, but how could you not when he looks like a walking art piece?

“I-I’m hungry,” you stuttered out shyly. Trying not to stare at Jimin’s lap.

“Me too,” Jimin smirked running his eyes over your body unapologetically. Meeting your gaze with hungry eyes.

“I’m gonna get some water. I’ll be right back,” you said trying to scurry away to the kitchen.

Miscalculating your step, you tripped and landed in Jimin’s lap with a huff. Bracing your hands on his shoulders unconsciously.

“Oh my god I’m sorry—“ you cried out trying to stand up quickly. Jimin grabbed your waist, pulling you back down onto his lap.

“Jimin, what are you doing?” You asked breathlessly. Going to stand up a second time, only to fail against his strong grip.

“Sit down.” He demanded intensely.

You didn’t move another inch, looking anywhere but his eyes.

“You know, you look very cute in these shorts.” He said moving a hand to play with the hem of your pants.

“I’ll go get you some water, Sunny.” He placed his hands on your waist and gently moved you to the next cushion.

“Thank you,” you muttered quietly, eyes darting from the floor to the print in Jimin’s pants. He noticed immediately, smiling as he brought you a glass of water.

“So what movie are we watching?” He asked casually, sitting on the cushion closest to you. You told him about the movie, stumbling over some parts as your mind was elsewhere.

Shortly after the movie started, you guys ate dinner and trash talked your way through the cliché horror tropes.

The next movie was frightening, sending you flying into Jimin’s lap after the 4th jump scare in a row. He happily held onto your hips, glancing down at you every so often.

You felt something hard against your ass, and shifted uncomfortably in response.

“Hey, stop moving Y/N.” Jimin grunted trying to hold you still.

“I feel something hard, it’s uncomfortable Jimin.” You complained, frustrated and grinding down harder.

The next noise you heard made you freeze. A growl? Did he just growl?

“If you would stop moving so much I wouldn’t be hard, Sunshine.” He stated dryly, “well seeing you in those shorts is also the reason.”

“JIMIN-“ you yelped embarrassed. Hiding your face in his chest immediately. He placed a finger under your chin, forcing you to make eye contact with him.

“You think I don’t know, Y/N. Hmm?” He crooned, looking down into your eyes, his infamous smirk still glued on his lips. The movie suddenly forgotten.

“I’ve seen where your attention has been tonight,” he said cockily. “You don’t think I’ve noticed your eyes on my lap practically the entire movie?”

“I’m not as stupid as you think I am, baby.” He smiled sinisterly, making your mouth water in fright. The nickname igniting something fiery inside you.

“I hear all those pretty noises you make almost every night. Just begging for me to come ruin you.”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about, Park.” You lied defensively, swatting Jimin’s hand away from your face. The memories of your perverted activities flashing through your mind.

“I’m not one of your toys, Jimin. I won’t fall at your feet.” You stated stubbornly, still sitting in his lap.

“Don’t lie to me, Y/N. I’ll make you scream louder than any toy could.” He said grabbing your face roughly. Smiling at the whimper that barely escaped your throat.

“You’re special, darling. Someone made just for me,” he said trailing soft kisses down your jaw to your neck.

“I’ve been longing to taste you, sweetheart. Be a good girl and tell the truth.”

Your breathing had become erratic, Jimin’s feather light lips sending your mind into a frenzy. How could you give in so easily?

You melted into his touch, moaning when he left a particularly prominent love bite on your collarbone.

“Mine” he said, kissing his way up your neck, to your cheek, until he finally met your lips.

Your lips molded perfectly together, Jimin grabbed your waist pulling you closer in his lap. You both pulled apart to catch your breath, a light sheen of sweat coating your foreheads.

“See? I’ve barely done anything Sunny, but I can feel your crying pussy through your shorts.” He groaned, reaching down to grab the hem of your pants.

“I want you to use your words now, pretty girl,” he said running his hands beneath your shorts. He stopped just before he reached your pussy.

“If you want me here,” he tapped two fingers over your clothed clit. “You’ll have to get on your knees and beg,” he deadpanned, kissing the tip of your nose.

You nodded in response, pealing yourself away from him. You climbed to the floor, getting on your knees in front of him.

“Please Jimin,” you began softly, doe eyes trained on his.

“You can do better than that, Sunshine.” He interjected, palming himself through his pants. Your eyes widened at the sight, mouth watering for him.

“Been needing your dick for so long,” you continued nervously. “Want the real thing,” you beg pathetically, crawling forward and placing your hands on his thighs.

He pulled his pants down his legs, trailing his underwear right behind them. You watched his cock spring free, the mushroom tip leaving a sticky trial of pre-cum on his happy trail.

“You want my dick, Sunny? Hmm?” He cooed mockingly, watching you shift cutely in front of him.

He grabbed your face roughly with one hand, craning your neck to look at him. “Open,” he demanded calmly.

He squeezed your cheeks forcing your mouth open. Spitting into it as if he owned you. “Now swallow.”

He smiled happily at you, enjoying the control he had over your actions. “You can taste it, baby.” He said releasing your face with a quick kiss to your nose.

You pushed up on your knees, reaching forward to finally come in contact with his member. Your hand was too small to fit the whole thing.

You wrapped both hands around it, letting out a shaky breath before taking him into your mouth.

“It’s s-so big,” you mewled, hands sticky and furiously moving up and down his shaft. He groaned at your words, loving the attention.

“Tastes so good,” you said before engulfing him again. The sound of him fucking your throat filling the living room.

“Shit—you’re so good at sucking my dick Y/N.” Jimin said moaning at the sight of your bobbing head. “Don’t wanna cum yet, hold on Sunny,” he grunted. You removed your head in frustration, missing the taste of him on your tongue.

He reached down to pull you back into his lap, planting a kiss on your lips. “Good job, princess.”

“Strip for me, Y/N.” Jimin demanded tugging on the waistband of your shorts.

You shakily stood up from his lap, quickly removing the plaid shorts for him. Gripping your forearm nervously as Jimin inspected every inch of your exposed skin.

“You look delicious, Sunny.” He said lazily stroking his cock, eyes still focused on your body.

He motioned for you to lay on the couch, sitting back to give you more room. You did as you were told, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as he towered over you.

“I’m gonna fuck you in these, so precious.” He whispered hotly in your ear, toying with your panties. Sliding then to the side, he began rubbing small circles across your clit.

Hushing you after a string of moans escaped your lips. “This my shirt?” He questioned, running his other hand under the soft fabric. His hand gliding across your skin effortlessly, like he already knew the map of your soul.

You nodded, feeling his hair brush against your cheek at the motion. He hummed in delight, grabbing your breast and squeezing.

You felt the tip of his cock graze against your clit, making you to shudder under him. He started to grind against you, sending waves of shock running through your body.

“Mmfp—can’t take it anymore, need you” Jimin flexed his hips forward, groaning as your pussy engulfed him.

You whimpered at the stretch, tears clouding your vision at the feeling. You wrapped your arms around his neck loving the way he grunts in your ear.

“So soft and hot, Sunny. Could fuck you all day.” He said pulling out slightly. Rocking forward before he could miss the contact of your skin.

“Please fill me up, Jimin.” You begged into his neck, “don’t wanna be empty.”

He chuckled at your words, his smile quickly being replaced with an “O,” expression. You clenched around him again, relishing in the whimper he released.

He swallowed another whimper, rhythmically slapping his hips against yours. He placed a hand on your lower stomach, pressing down for your reaction.

A symphony of moans rang through your living room. The obscene squelching and slapping sounds drawing you closer to your orgasm. You felt your stomach bulge with every thrust, your legs wrapping around his waist.

“Gonna paint your pretty tummy with my cum, baby.” He placed a hand over your head to brace himself. Slamming back into you aggressively.

You screamed in pleasure, clawing at his back in desperation. You felt your orgasm wash over you. Jimin not easing his movements.

“Fuck—so good for me,” he grunted. “Love watching your pretty face, Y/N.”

You blushed in response, mind and body still reeling from Jimin’s touch. You felt his thrusts become sloppy, a guttural growl coming from his lips as he slipped from inside of you.

He eagerly squeezed his cock, stroking it rapidly as he watched your ruined body underneath him. His eyes closed momentarily, his hips stuttering as he came on your stomach.

Your chests heaved with heavy breathing, Jimin grabbing a towel from the kitchen to clean you up.

“Round 2 in the shower?”

The end.

(Sorry it was short, just supposed to be a quick smut.) (There will be a pt.2)