#I LOVED WRITING THIS SM

[mxltifxnd0m]

falling foolishly ღ s. winchester

summary: your best friend jess makes you go to a get-together to meet one of her classmates, the thing is, she mentioned two and you don't know which one she meant

pairings: stanford! sam winchester x reader, sam winchester x fem! reader, platonic! jessica moore x reader, platonic! sam winchester x platonic! jessica moore

requested: yes/no: by @s4wdvator thank you for requesting lovey!!

word count: 4.4K

warnings: modern/no hunting AU, no use of 'y/n', a shit ton of fluff, you and jess being little shits to each other, mentions of sex, some cursing, title is a lyric from must be love by laufey, the prequel to my smau's: must be love and too tongue tied!

a/n: my first request for sammy and its the prequel to my smau's! it was very fun to write and i hope you guys enjoy! and I love sam and jess <33

please reblog and comment! i love to hear your thoughts and it helps out a lot <3

𝘴𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

The cool, crisp January air hit your cheeks as you exited the lecture hall and wrapped your red wooly scarf around your neck. California didn't see any snow, but you were surprised that the state was capable of dropping below 60 degrees during the winter.

A slight breeze swept through the campus as the dead leaves from autumn skittered and drifted across the grass and pavement. The leaves littered the ground as you walked through the nearly barren quad of the Stanford campus and headed back to your dorm.

You were grateful that you only had two classes today, the one you just took, and you had a four-hour gap before your last one. You had your headphones on as you made your trek back to your dorm, where your roommate was no doubt still there or getting ready for her classes. You almost let out a sigh of relief when you entered the heated lobby of your dorm and quickly made your way to the third floor.

As you entered your room, you set your bag at the edge of your bed while a familiar head of long, curly blonde hair sat at her vanity as she got ready for class. You made eye contact with her blue eyes through her mirror, and you saw her mouth widen into a smile.

"Hey! how was class?" Jessica asked you as she applied a coat of mascara to her lashes.

"It was fine." You said with a roll of your eyes while taking off your scarf and cardigan, leaving you in a thin black long-sleeve and jeans.

A chuckle left Jess's lips. "You're regretting taking this 8 am aren't you?"

A mournful groan left your lips as you kicked off your shoes. "I thought I would be able to, but it's going to be the bane of my existence for the rest of this semester." You walked to your bed and face-planted into it

"Is it too late to drop it?" You heard her ask as her chair moved against the carpeted floor.

"It might be," Your pillow muffled your voice. You moved your head so you could breathe. "But the stupid class is only available this semester and not at any other time."

Your eyes followed Jessica as she shrugged on her black North Face puffer and as she walked up to your bed.

"You have my sympathy and pity." Her eyes were sparkling with mirth as she patted you on your head.

You scowled at her and swatted her hand away from your head. Jess managed to rip her hand away from your head before you could hit her as she laughed at your grumpy mood.

"Just go to class." You grumbled as you sat up and grabbed your laptop out of your bag to start on some work.

Jessica laughed before grabbing her backpack. "See ya later, bitch!" She sent you an air kiss.

"Whatever, bye whore," You sent her a two-finger salute while reading the article your teacher assigned her as Jess left your shared room.

"Hear me out-"

"No good sentence starts off with 'hear me out', Jess." You cut her off after taking a sip of your water.

The two of you sat in the dining hall, eating dinner together as people bustled and chattered around you, absorbed in their own conversations and worlds.

Jess whined your name. "Can't you hear me out for just a minute?"

"The last time I did, you got black-out drunk the day before winter break started and I had to drag you back to the dorm."

"I wasn't that bad."

"You almost threw up on me and clung on to me all night." You deadpanned at her before taking a bite of the pasta you had chosen for dinner.

"What can I say, you're a really good cuddler." Jess winked at you, but all you gave her was a straight face.

She rolled her eyes at you. "Can you blame me? We had just finished finals!"

"Righttt." You drawled out.

"Whatever, just hear me out for just a second and I swear it'll be worth your time."

You pressed your lips together. "Fine, you get a minute."

"I was invited to a small get-together and I want you to come with me as my plus one."

"Is this an actual small get-together or a ploy to get me to another party?" You narrowed your eyes at Jess.

She shook her head. "I swear." Jessica made it a point to cross her heart. "The friend I made in my Philosophy class invited me and two other classmates to their small housewarming in the apartment they just got."

"Are you sure you're able to invite someone else with you?"

Jess nodded. "Yeah, I asked them and they said it was alright."

You sighed. "Fine. I'll come."

Jessica's dazzling grin appeared on her face, and you could see her visibly getting excited. "Yes! I've been dying for you to meet my class mate anyways."

"Which one?" You raised an eyebrow.

Her grin turned into a sly smirk. "You'll see on Friday."

You squinted suspiciously at her. "I don't like that look on your face."

"What look?" She said with innocent eyes and a scheming smile still on her face as she took a bite of her food.

"I'm onto you, Moore." You pointed your plastic fork at her as menacingly as you could, but all she did was chuckle.

"I'd rather you be on top of me instead." Jess cooed as she fluttered her eyelashes at you.

The two of you had flirty banter since a month of living together. You had met Jessica at freshman orientation, and you guys had hit it off immediately, becoming fast friends and stuck by each other like glue until the day ended. You guys traded socials before you guys left. So when the move-in day came around, to both of your surprises, you guys were each other's roommates.

Since then, you guys have been best friends. It felt like you guys have been friends since you were kids. But you've only known each other for about four months, and it's only your second semester of your freshman year. Nevertheless, you have a feeling that she's going to be by your side until both of you kick the bucket.

You rolled your eyes, but a smile grew on your face. "I'd always knew you'd be the bottom out of the two of us." You teased.

Jess scoffed. "As if."

"That wasn't a no, Jess." You said in a sing-song voice as you got up to put away your now empty tray.

"Wait, no! It was!" Jessica said as she got up to follow you, your laugh ringing throughout the already loud dining hall.

You were typing away at your laptop when something was flung at you, and your vision was obscured by a piece of clothing.

"You're wearing that." You heard Jess say before you pulled it off of your face, your hair askew.

You glared at her back as she dug around the small dresser on her side of the room before looking at the offending article of clothing she unceremoniously threw at you. It was a tight, black, long-sleeved dress that had a plunging neckline. It had a skirt that flared out, and it looked like it had ended around your mid-thigh.

"Jess, are you crazy? I'm not wearing a dress in the middle of winter!" You hissed as you were getting ready to throw it back at her.

She threw something else in your direction wordlessly, and it landed on your bed. You leaned forward to grab it and saw it was one of her fleece-lined tights that she would wear if she wanted to wear a skirt in the cold.

You opened your mouth to protest before she whirled around and held a finger up. "Nuh-uh, no complaining. I let you wear whatever you wanted when we went to those parties last semester."

"Are you insulting my fashion sense?"

"Of course." Jess flashed a sarcastic grin at you.

You scowled at her in response before closing your laptop with a little more force than you needed to. You huffed before getting off your bed and began to change out of the t-shirt and leggings you wore for the day since you had no class on Fridays.

"Are you sure you're still the top in the relationship?" Jessica quipped and dodged the stuffed animal that you chucked at her from your bed with a chuckle.

After you changed into the dress and tights, you did your makeup as you usually would but applied a raspberry-tinted lip stain and some black eyeliner instead of the usual brown you did on a day-to-day basis.

You let down your hair from the hairstyle you had on all day and curled it lightly. Once you were with your hair and makeup, you put on your everyday rings, necklace, and a few spritzes of perfume and slid on your cherry red platform boots you had gotten from your sister for Christmas.

As you were bent over and zipping up your left boot, you heard a wolf whistle come from Jess. You looked up to see that Jess was wearing the opposite color as you.

Jess's dress was a frilly long-sleeve dress that ended at her mid-thigh with nude tights underneath; you assumed that they were fleeced-lined as well. Her blonde hair was pulled up in a high ponytail, her makeup made her look angel with flushed cheeks and wide eyes, and she was wearing black Mary Janes. If you stood side by side, you'd look like the living manifestation of yin and yang.

"Damn, it's not fair you look better than me in that dress." Jess all but pouted at you.

"I'd argue but I have a feeling you don't want us to be late."

Jess looked at her phone, and her eyes widened. "Yep, we should go now if we don't want to be late for the Uber since its like five minutes away."

You nodded and grabbed the red leather jacket you thrifted a while ago, along with your scarf, and followed Jess out the door as she grabbed her black leather jacket. The Uber to the apartment was brief, but it was filled with awkward small talk between the driver and the two of you.

As you walk into the apartment complex and ride the elevator to the fourth floor, where Jess's friend's apartment is, you feel a little nervous. You had yet to meet these people before, and you were not the most socially adjusted person.

Jessica was the extrovert out of the two of you and did most of the talking while you let her. You preferred listening anyway and chiming in when it was appropriate. You would only let loose around people you knew and were comfortable with.

Before you knew it, you had followed Jess to the apartment door. Her knock on the door broke you out of your slight daze, your body on autopilot before you snapped out of it. You heard the door unlock and swung open.

A girl with long, straight red hair, wearing glasses, and a broad smile answered the door. "Jess! I'm glad you could make it!" She greeted her with a hug before her blue eyes landed on you just behind Jess. She said your name with the same amount of enthusiasm as she greeted Jess.

You hid your confusion behind a smile as you gave her a small wave in greeting before she ushered the two of you inside her apartment.

"I've heard so much about you from Jess! I'm Mel." Mel introduced herself as she led you guys into the living room. You had noticed that there were about six or seven people in the living room, chatting and snacking on the food and drinks that were laid out.

The apartment was spacious and had an open floor plan with the kitchen to your left, the living room in front of you, and to your right, stairs that led to a loft area. You noticed some sliding doors that must have led out to a balcony since you had seen some as you looked up at the apartment complex.

Someone squealed from the kitchen, and out came a girl with tanned skin and brown bouncy curls barrel into Jess, giving her a massive hug.

"Hey, Dinah!" You could hear Jess greet who you now know is Dinah as she pulls away from the hug. "Come meet my best friend and roommate." Jess said before gesturing to you.

You saw Dinah's warm brown eyes land on you, and she smiled wide. You all got properly acquainted before you guys joined everyone else in the living room, being introduced to some of Mel's friends and Dinah's friends. You felt comfortable after being introduced and listening to the conversations that were being had. You even chimed in a couple of times, leading the conversation one time.

At one point, you saw Jess lean over to Mel, who was sitting on her other side. "Where's Sam? I thought he said he'd come?" You heard her ask Mel.

Mel nodded. "He said he was going to be a little late."

Jess hummed in response. "Okay, but-" Jess was cut off by a loud knock on the door.

"Speak of the devil and he shall appear. That must be Sam." Mel said before getting up from her seat and answering the door.

Mel came back with a guy who you assumed was Sam, and your breath hitched as you took in the sight of Sam. He was tall with brown hair and bangs you wanted to brush from his forehead. You couldn't tell what his eye color was from where you were sitting. But he had a cute nose that you traced with your eyes. He was dressed in layers from what you could tell was a dark undershirt peeking out from underneath the navy blue polo, which was covered by a worn, unzipped brown Carhartt jacket, with his hands shoved in the pockets.

Mel introduced him to the group, and everyone said variations of greetings. You saw Sam's eyes scan the group before they met yours, and you could see that his eyes were hazel, and you could tell that they shifted color depending on the lighting. You gave him a small smile, one he returned before his eyes moved to the person next to you.

Jess saw this small interaction and smirked to herself. She stood up and greeted Sam. At this point, everyone had gone back to their conversations, and you were brought into one with Dinah and another guy named Brady. But you were only half listening to them, your mind still stuck on the tall guy with hazel eyes that only stood mere feet away from you.

As the night went on, you found yourself wanting to talk to Sam but couldn't. You always seemed to psych yourself out of talking to him. As people started to get a little tipsy, you managed to slip out of the living room unnoticed and out to the balcony. Which now, you regretted instantly.

The cold night seeped into your skin as you rested your elbows on the metal railing. It was bearable, but you would prefer to wear something warmer than the dress you were wearing in this kind of weather. You were debating on going back inside to grab your jacket.

"Aren't you cold?" A voice startled you out of your thoughts, and you whipped around to find Sam standing at the closed balcony doors.

"Oh, I'm sorry." He apologized with a sheepish smile, which you thought was cute. Sam must have realized that he had scared you.

You shook your head. "You're fine, I was just lost in thought and didn't hear you come out here." You reassured him with a slight smile.

Sam seemed to relax at your words and smiled back at you. "I'm Sam." He introduced himself as he stuck out a hand for you to shake.

"I knew that." You said through a small chuckle as you shook his warm hand, his hand almost dwarfing yours as you did. "Mel introduced you when came in."

There were fairy lights strung on the metal railing and around the balcony, lighting the area with a warm and inviting atmosphere. You could see a blush grow on Sam's cheeks as he realized that she did, in fact, introduce him to the entire room.

"Right, I forgot about that." Sam let out a nervous laugh.

You quickly introduced yourself to Sam, and he said your name like he was testing how it rolled off of his tongue. The way he said your name sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you smiled at him.

"How do you know Mel?" He asked with a gentle smile on his face.

"I don't. Jess asked me to come with her to meet some of her classmates."

"Oh! That's right I remember Jess talk about her best friend a lot before class."

You raised your eyebrow at that factoid. You didn't realize that Jess talked about you that much, which sent warmth to your chest. "Didn't realize that Jess talked about me that much." You said with a nervous chuckle.

Sam's smile broadens as he nods. "She does."

"Well, what's your story, Sam? What brings you to Stanford?" You ask him.

Before you know it, the both of you were launched into a conversation that flowed like a river in a dense forest. You found out Sam was in pre-law; he is from Lawrence, Kansas, with an older brother named Dean, and his brother is a firefighter back home. In turn, you told him about the major you were in, your family, and where you grew up.

You guys were so deep into your conversation that you didn't feel the cold anymore until a shiver racked your body when the breeze suddenly picked up. Sam noticed, and his face twisted with concern.

"Crap, I didn't even realize it was that cold out here. Here." Before you could protest, he shrugged off his brown jacket and stepped closer to you to drape it over your shoulders, filling your nose with a faint woody and fresh linen scent.

You were stunned by his actions momentarily before his stepping away snapped you to the present, and you put your arms through the sleeves. The jacket engulfed you; it was the same length as your dress, and you had to scrunch up the sleeves since they were so long.

Sam had a fond smile on his face as you focused on pulling up his sleeves before he looked away and exhaled a breath. He realized you could see his breath, so he looked back at you. His breath caught as he saw the girl that Sam thought was pretty when he first walked into the apartment, swarming in his jacket before he shook his head to get rid of the thoughts that were forming in his mind.

"We should probably head back inside." He suggested as he shoved his hands into his jeans, no longer being warmed by his jacket.

You agreed with his words, and Sam opened the sliding door and gestured for you to go inside first. You shot him a grateful smile before stepping into the warm apartment.

You took a few steps forward until you were propelled backward as you got a faceful of blonde hair in your face and arms wrapping around your shoulders. You would have toppled over if it wasn't for Sam's tall form and hands landing on your waist, underneath his jacket, and steadying you from behind.

You couldn't focus on anything besides his warm hands seeping through the fabric but were brought back to Jess's tipsy ramblings.

"You're b-back! I was wondering where you went." Jess's words were slurred slightly as she booped you on the nose.

Sam eventually let go of you as you steadied yourself with Jess in your arms.

"Yeah, I am Jess," You chuckled lightly at the blissful smile that was on Jessica's face. "I was out on the balcony with Sam."

Her blue eyes brightened at the mention of Sam, and she finally seemed to notice that he was behind you. "Sammy!" Jess called out cheerfully.

You heard Sam chuckle as he moved to the side so you could see him. "Hi Jess," Sam said with a smile.

How in the hell are you now noticing that he has dimples. Christ, this dude was getting more and more cuter by the second.

"He was the classmate I wanted to introduce you to. Sam is totally your type, you know?" She whispered to you a little too loud, and Sam could still hear her.

"Like he's smart, tall, handsome, and-" You cut off Jess by slapping your hand over her mouth. She continued to speak, her words muffled as you felt your cheeks flush with heat as you dared to look at Sam.

You could tell that Sam was thoroughly amused by Jess's drunken ramblings and your now flustered state.

"She's a clingy and loud drunk if you couldn't tell by now." You said with a tight smile on your face as you thought of the many ways that you could murder Jess.

The smirk on Sam's face was making your heart beat faster. "Yeah, I think I got the picture now. I've never seen her like this."

"Yeah, well, I've seen her like this many times." You finally pulled your hand away from her mouth when you felt her stop talking and nuzzled her face into the crook of your neck.

You sighed and patted her back. "Come on, Jessy. Let's go sit down and get some water in you."

Jessica grumbled into your neck, and you could barely make out the words, but it sounded like she wanted to go home. You looked at Sam with an exasperated expression on your face, making him laugh. You couldn't hold back the smile on your face at the sound of his bright laugh.

"Okay, but let's drink some water, say bye to everyone, and then we can go, okay?" You said gently to Jess as you petted the top of her head, and all she did was nod into your neck before adjusting herself so she could be tucked into your side.

"I'll come with you," Sam said. "Looks like you have your hands full and need help." He gestured to the 5'10 blonde nineteen-year-old hanging off of you.

With some thought, you eventually accepted Sam's help. With his help, Jess drank a bottle of water and ate some food that was still out. You said bye to everyone in the apartment, grabbed your jackets, and Sam called an Uber for the three of you to take it back to the dorm since he lived in the building across from yours.

Sam graciously took the front seat while you and Jess sat in the back. She dozed on your shoulder, and before you knew it, the three of you were back on campus with Jess's shoulder slung over your shoulder as you led Sam to your room. You were okay with just walking back to the dorms by yourself with Jess, but Sam insisted that he'd walk you guys to your room.

If this was anyone else, you would have been creeped out, but you knew Sam had nothing but good intentions behind those eyes that reminded you of a puppy's. So he walked with you and Jess all the way until you made it to the room. At this point, Jess had sobered up slightly but trudged into the room as you unlocked it. You stood in the doorway as Sam lingered in the hall.

"Thanks for helping, you made things easier than it had ever been before."

Sam shook his head. "No problem. Does she get that way a lot?"

"No. Sometimes it's me clinging to her, but more often than not it's Jess." You said with a small chuckle. Sam smiled at the sound of your laugh and looked down at his feet.

Sam looked a little nervous as he looked back at you. "I'm glad we met. I really liked talking to you tonight."

"So did I." You sent him a kind smile.

"Could I get your number?"

Your smile widened as you nodded. The two of you traded phones as you set up new contacts with one another. Once you were done, you guys gave each other's respective phones back, smiles lingering on your faces. You looked down at your boots and remembered that you were still wearing his jacket.

"Oh! here's your jacket." You took it off, even if you didn't want to, and gave it back to Sam.

Sam took it and folded it over his arm as if it were a suit jacket. You both stared at each other for a moment before you spoke up.

"Well, thanks for the help and walking us back, Sam. You've been a real gentleman."

He playfully bowed, bending slightly at the waist as he placed his free hand on his chest, looking at you cheekily. "The pleasure has been mine," Sam said before straightening to his full height.

A giggle escaped your lips. "Cheeky." You said before you bit your bottom lip. You didn't want to second guess yourself, and even in your platform boots, you had to lean up and plant a kiss on Sam's cheek.

"Goodnight, Sam." You said with a shy smile as you drew back from him, a dopey smile on his face as his dimples appeared on his face.

"Yeah," He said breathily before shaking his head slightly and clearing his throat. "Goodnight," Sam said your name before the two of you shared a smile. You stepped back from the doorway and closed the door. You locked the door and turned around to find Jess sitting on her bed with tired eyes but a shit-eating grin on her face.

"You saw the entire thing didn't you?"

"Mhm. Never knew you had the balls to kiss him on the cheek. Maybe you are the top."

Jess wasn't fast enough to dodge the massive stuffed animal you kept on the edge of your bed, and the two of you dissolved into laughter as it hit her face.

[moonshine999]

Querencia

(n.) a place from which one's strength is drawn, where one feels at home; the place where you are your most authentic self

Pairing : Helaena Targaryen x Aegon II Targaryen

Summary : Helaena is pregnant with her and Aegon’s child. The only problem is no one even knows that they are together, much less the fact that they fucked.

Warnings : mild angst, mentions and implications of alcoholism/addiction (still fluff for the most part though)

A/N : so it’s here, for good now. Sorry for the weird glitch that sent this to my posts instead of my drafts but it’s here now. Going to thank the every lovely @fatherforgivethem for the prompt and the sweet encouragement, I hope I did it justice to what you had in mind ♥️ (it got super long but gah, the prompt was just so good)

Two. Two lines. Two souls. Too many people not in the know.

The rhyme burned into her mind till it became just noise in its mess. She rocked back and forth, try to give herself some pattern, some assurance but to no avail. What had they done?

“Hel?” The familiar voice sent a jolt up her as she lifted her head. Her eyes were wet, tears dancing along the bridge of fear and joy. Aegon walked towards her, slowly, as if she could erupt if he rushed.

“Is it..” A sigh. “So it’s positive.”

The tears fell hearing it in the solidarity of his voice, her hand immediately grasping around her mouth to control herself.

“Hey hey hey, it’s okay, we..we will be fine. It’s okay..” He comforted, kneeling down next to her.

“How!?” The question came out rougher than she intended and yet not enough to show the true extent of how much she felt. “What if mom finds out, Aegon? Ma? Criston? Our brothers? Anyone?! What if they’re disgusted? What if we get kicked out of the house? What if we lose-“ a sharp breath before she stopped herself. Ranting wasn’t going to help the situation. Yet the panic remained. What if?

Silence followed. Unsure, reckless silence. Confused, awkward silence. Silence.

“Aegon..if we keep the child, I want you to promise me something.” “Of course, what is it?” “Promise me..” she cleared her throat “promise me.. that you will not leave us.”

And so something snapped. Is that what she truly thought of him? That he would be so sick?

“I wouldn’t Hela! I wouldn’t, you know that! I’m not that low of a person.” he near shouted. “No you are not but..” But? “But you have tendencies when it comes to this addiction and…I will not sacrifice this child for the sake of your liquor.” She sat, eyes wide, face stained, voice steady. But the fact was, he was always more of a mess than her. And it was too much. His own love thought him lesser than his curses. How? Why? Before he knew it, his feet carried him rampantly out of the room, frustrated at her, himself and entirely too much.

Two souls. Too much.

“Dearest, you have any idea why Aegon is not here for dinner yet?” “Uhm. No, Ma I don’t.”

“Am afraid to tell you, Ali but your son seems to be out about the town again.” Cole answered.

Ma sighed, Aemond scoffed, Daeron barely noticed, mom started playing with her food, clearly uncomfortable.

I am afraid to tell you too, Ma.

The painting hung high. It was always one of Ma’s favourites that she had made. How fast the mornings and afternoons seemed to disappear for him, taking the sun as far as they could, only to leave him a cold, dark evening. However, this painting shone in the moonlight that snuck in through the long windows. It shone brighter than any sun could make it. It was of the two of them, as toddlers, smiling with wide grins and child like ecstasy. Oh, what they had become. For each other, for the family.

The fear pounded at his heart, the regret clawed at his brain, the confusion scribbled all throughout his face. How? Why? He wouldn’t, he wouldn’t. He can’t. All he did was stand there, staring at the brush strokes.

“Tsk, if you’re done with standing in the hallway, may we leave for the meeting?” Criston called out, putting his blazer on. “Mhm.” He wasn’t done. “Aegon!” . . “Did you ever want children, Cole?” The question was jarring, out of the blue, completely irrational to ask their bodyguard, but it felt right. “Why..?”

“Just so.. can’t I simply ask?” Cole scoffed, smirking. “Never thought about it as such. I always thought I was too reckless or confused, I won’t be able to bring up an entire human.” A chuckle escaped him “You? Reckless? Since when?” “When I was about your age, Aegon. But oh well, I got employed here and left those thoughts behind. Then Nyra married Ali and they had them. 4 times. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t happy, I wasn’t protective or even if I said it didn’t make me a better person. Because it did, this is the closest thing I have to a family and maybe that was just what I needed, perhaps without knowing for sure at first. Life is a confusing, winding path, isn’t it?”

Oh.

“I suppose it is.”

Cole laughed, “Come on now, otherwise your mothers will make me regret they had you in the first place.” He joked, tapping his back before wrapping his arms around his boy.

“Ma? You here?” “Hmm yes, sweetheart?”

She was glad her mother was able to hear her through her headphones. This was the most domestic she would see her Ma, in old, racked overalls, paint stains at every corner of the room, headphones at full volume, paintbrush spinning in hand and every red curl shining in the sunlight. It was hard to believe this was the same woman who co-owned one of the richest companies in the world.

“Ma, can we talk?” She slid off her headphones and looked skeptically at her daughter. “Talk?” A nod. “About what?” She asked warmly, smile rising and eyes showing excitement in every speck. “I’ve been meaning to ask you this. For a..while now. So..uhm..why did you decide to marry mom in the first place? Didn’t grandpa object or something?” She chuckled sweetly “Ohhh I see.” Shit. “You want to know about me and mom’s little love story don’t you?” oh thank the seven. “Yup! Caught me there.” She laughed.

Ma’s face radiated further as she looked back on the memory, her paintbrush now still, her smile now wider, her eyes now glowing.

“Well, to put it simply. I love your mom. And she loves me. I know that much, there’s an assurance, a trust. Because I met your mom when life was gone to shit for me and through those confusing and unsure times, our love was something I could always fall back on. It was sure, it was constant, it was steady. I liked it.”

Ma laughed. Then looked towards her.

“As for grandpa, we were terrified to tell him anything about our relationship. I had no idea whether he would even be accepting of me marrying a woman, much less a Targaryen woman. But we were brave enough, we did it. And then your grandfather patted Nyra on the back and said ‘take care of her, she’s all your burden now.’ The rest is history.”

“So you knew you were ready for marriage?”

“I think so. There isn’t anyone else I’d rather spend my last days with. You want your life to have memories, not dreams, hopes or what-ifs.”

She smiled. “Thank you Ma.”

Ma tilted her head slightly and gave her one last question. “But..why?”

“I need a reason to speak to my own mother??” She asked, exaggerating offence.

“Tsk, get lost.” Ma giggled.

Two. Two days had passed and they had not spoken a word to each other.

Perhaps it was her fault. She shouldn’t have assumed such a thing of him. She knows he wouldn’t, why did she have to say that? Why? .

.

Perhaps it was his. Shouldn’t he just have assured her? Did he have to storm out the way he did? Why couldn’t he just talk to her? Why?

A message popped up on his phone.

Gardens. Now.

Who was he to object?

“Hel?”

Oh gods.

“Listen-“ “Listen-“ “You go first.” “What? No, it’s fine, you go first.” “This isn’t going to work if we keep going like this. You go first.” “Fine.”

She took a deep breath. Her palms felt clammy, her pocket felt heavier and her face heated up. Fuck, why was she nervous. It’s fine, you’ve rehearsed this, it’s okay.

“Aegon.” “Helaena.”

“Listen. I’m sorry about what I said. I..I genuinely am. I know that you wouldn’t and it was in the heat of the moment. It’s just we, all of us, have been raised so so happily that I started overthinking and I put the blame on you for something that I understand you can never do.”

Fuck, she was good.

“I had expectations as soon as I saw the test. I wanted you whole, unscathed, not a big mess, perhaps.” “Wow-“ “My gods..listen!” “Okay, okay.”

“More importantly, however is the fact that I want you. As you were. As you are. As you will be. I don’t think there is anyone else I can imagine spending my life with.”

Oh.

“Aegon. I am in love with you and right now, with this child. Our child, I don’t think I have ever been more sure of that.” Tears welled up in their eyes, gods, too much.

“Aegon Targaryen..” she took the weight from her pocket and knelt on one knee. “Will you marr-“

“YES! I mean, yeah, yes, sure.” She laughed and put the ring on his finger.

“Oh it’s beautiful…thank you, Helaena.” He whispered, immediately pulling her into his arms. And then he kissed her, because he loved her. She loved him. He was sure of it. There was assurance in their kisses. There was his past, present and future in their kisses. There was her. And their soon to be family.

“Hel. I promise I will never, ever leave you or that child. I know that I have flaws, various things I need to get over but love, you are my everything. You are my heart and everything I ever held dear. I wouldn’t dream of leaving you. Life is confusing, it really is. But..you’re not, this is not. I’m sure of it.” His voice strained with his tears threatening to leave their bounds.

“Ñuha vēzos.” “Ñuha hūra.”

My sun. My moon.

“Is this really necessary? I have two more calls to-“ “Nyra..they want to talk so let’s talk.” “Oh this should be fun.” “Not the time Cole…yes darlings.”

“Ma, mom..Criston.” Hel spoke first, she’s good at that. “We have been wanting to tell you this for a while now.” Just take it slow, it’s okay.

“Me and Aegon have been..together. Romantically. For the past year.” FUCK.

Mom sat, mouth agape and looked at Criston who responded with the same expression. Ma took a deep breath and smiled. Shit. It was one of Ma’s sarcastic smiles.

And then, roaring laughter. Mom and Criston’s.

Helaena and Aegon looked at each other, eyes wide. Shock? Fear?

“Oh hush you two. Uhm. Sweethearts, we know.”

“We aren’t blind.” Cole giggled. “And I can only assume but..Hel is pregnant, isn’t she?”

Simultaneous nodding.

“What?!” Ma exclaimed. “Hmm, someone owes me a 50” mom sing songed.

“Let me this straight.” He spoke the first time since this interaction started. “You knew we were together, the entire year and you knew she was pregnant and you didn’t bother to tell us?

“Well we just wanted to see how quickly you’d give in.” “Ma!” “they gave in pretty quickly actually, we didn’t tell my parents till we were way past the 3 year mark.” Hel sighed before chuckling into the laughter herself.

“We also know that you have proposed” Criston continued, pointing towards the ring on Aegon’s hand.

“I can’t believe this. Holy fuck.” “Language.” A collective phrase from all 3 of them.

Too many people who knew?

“I’m gonna be an uncle!?” “As long as I don’t have to change any diapers, all will be well.”

“Aegon for the Seven’s sake, stay calm and stop pacing around.” Aemond sneered. “My fiancée is gone to get her ultrasound, in what world do you expect me to be calm about this!?”

Cole giggled as he walked into the room. “You don’t have to stress yourself over it anymore, Aemy, they’re already back.”

“They’re back!?” “I told you to stop calling me that!”

Before he knew it, his feet carried him out to the front hall. Hel was wrapped in a side hug by Ma as they laughed and whispered about something. “Hel!” Her head snapped towards him, eyes glowing as soon as they caught his gaze. He rushed towards her and immediately hugged her. “Easy, Aegon.” “Yeah yeah Ma.” She scoffed and walked away, leaving the couple be. “Soo? How was it? Can I see? Is it a boy? A girl?” He gleamed. She giggled and kissed him.

Two. Two souls.

[hirudou]

            @svmmoning asked:  (  from  sebek  )  sender  and  receiver  play  hide  and  seek  in  the  woods  .

        he  and  floyd  played  games  like  this  back  home.  usually  amidst  colorful  coral  beds,  or  somewhere  deep  in  the  oceanic  trenches.  the  woods  were  fun  too  though.  sebek's  suggestion  had  come  across  quite  strange.  but  jade  understood  what  he  was  asking  for;  a  challenge.  it  is  his  turn  to  seek  now--  his  favorite.  he'd  always  been  very  good  at  finding  his  brother.  it  didn't  matter  how  well  he  thought  he'd  tucked  himself  away.  leaping  after  him,  all  teeth  and  claws, and shrill laughter.

  and  though  jade  may  be  from  the  sea,  his  passion  lies  right  here.  in  the  smell  of  damp  earth,  the  feel  of  bark  against  his  palm  as  he  stalks  through  the  trees.  and,  like  any  old  habit  he  can't  help-  the  eel  begins  to  whistle  a  jaunty  tune  as  he  hunts.  perceptive  gaze  slowly  gliding  along  his  path,  taking  note  of  everything  he  sees.  

  sebek  is  certainly  skilled;  he's  in  diasomnia  for  a  reason.  the  dorm  as  a  whole  casting  a  rather  imposing  shadow.  but  jade  has  the  advantage  of  the  unknown.  the  first  year  has  no  inclination  of  what  he  has  just  gotten  himself  into.  they're  alone  in  the  woods,  what  would  a  polite  facade  do  for  him  here?    what  would  hiding  his  uglier  nature  give  him  except  disadvantages?

  and anyway-- they  have  plenty  of  time.  jade  has  the  map,  their  supplies,  the  tools  they  need  to  leave.  this  is  fun!  so  he  keeps  his  pace  slow,  and  easy.  the  only  sound  he  makes,  being the  drawn  notes  of  his  melody.

a walk in the woods

[xenop0p]

In love with Zoro

Giving Zoro a hand when he’s injured

WARNING: MINORS DNI. THIS IS NSFW CONTENT.

Author’s note: This is porn with plot. ~5.3k words. The smut starts at the asterisk I inserted, so you can skip the plot if you’d like. In this fic the reader (afab) gives injured Zoro a hand job. Includes Zoro touching himself and the reader later does the same. ʕっ•ᴥ•ʔっ \(๑•́o•̀๑)/ xoxoxo - see part 2 for more!

Giving Zoro a hand when he’s injured

Zoro tore one of his shoulder rotator cuffs in his last battle, and he was in bad shape. He also had a huge gash on his thigh that desperately needed to be cleaned and stitched up, but Chopper was on bed rest for a similar reason. The rest of the crew decided that you got to deal with Zoro while he recovered, because you had the most experience (other than Chopper) and least injuries.

Considering that Zoro had almost superhuman stamina and his body could repair itself quicker than most humans, the full recovery process would be a couple of weeks. Zoro would have to avoid using his shoulder for the whole time and he would need ice packs applied every 20 minutes for multiple cycles each day. And it was going to take Chopper at least four or five days to get back on his feet, so… that left you with lots of time babysitting the cranky swordsman. Those few days that you acted as Zoro’s nurse were the only days you had spent in such close proximity with him. Usually Zoro was always around, but you were far from close friends, he wasn’t overtly social, and when you were in the same room you were many feet away.

It would be safe to say that your proximity while you were taking care of him tortured Zoro. He couldn’t put a finger on it at first. You were annoying the fuck out of him. He had never noticed how annoying you were before—too smiley, too careful and tender with him when changing his ice packs, too patronizing… in reality, he was just projecting his misery and frustration on you, in part. But whenever you came into the room his blood pressure rose and he felt agitated, he couldn’t figure out what the hell his problem with you was, since you weren’t doing anything objectively wrong, either.

However, Zoro quickly figured out why you had been agitating him the second you were bent over his thigh, stitching it up. He was lying flat, slightly propped up because his pillows, cranking his head down to watch you work. He was prepared for the stitches to hurt and for the job to be shoddy—you were no Chopper, after all. But Zoro was quickly surprised. Your touch was as soft as a feather, you dabbed his wound with antiseptic so tenderly, gripped his leg firmly but delicately at the same time. Your stitches were swift and as smooth as could be, as painless as he had ever experienced.

Zoro had never felt care like this before. He could sense that you were adjusting your movements slightly to accommodate his comfort, and it caught him off guard. His gaze shifted from your hands to your face. You were so close. He could feel your body heat, see your chest rise and fall, bent over his upper thigh, focusing so intently. He always thought you were beautiful, but he had never been this close to you before. As you looked up quickly to check that he wasn’t grimacing in pain from your stitches, you locked eyes. Suddenly and unexpectedly, Zoro’s heart felt like it skipped a beat. Something stirred inside him. He had never felt this before. What was this feeling? Is it just her beauty that I’m taken aback by? How tender her hands are moving? Her closeness? Zoro reflected internally as his heart calmed down in a millisecond.

“Are you doing ok?” You asked, and briefly paused your work.

“Yeah.” He replied curtly. You got back to work.

It was amazing that he got flustered in that moment, considering that he was the Roronoa Zoro, being treated as tenderly and with as much care as a baby. He went back to watching you work, which had quickly turned into him staring at your face and hands. He was wrapped up in analyzing you, admiring you, so distracted that he forgot the pain for a moment. A thought intruded his mind—your head was down by his thigh, bobbing up and down as you leaned closer to get a better look at his wound. Your head was alarmingly close to his crotch. Would you look like this while sucking his dick? He was sexually frustrated as it was, so the thought wasn’t the most surprising. It’s not like he hadn’t imagined it before. But now that you were inches away from his cock, he couldn’t shake the mental image. His mind wandered. Would he grab your hair and push you down on it? Would you look up at him, like you just did, but with your pretty lips wrapped around his shaft? Before he knew it, he was starting to get hard. The timing was perfect though. You finished tending to his thigh and stood up.

“Okay, all done. Do you need anything before I leave?” You asked him, not noticing his bulge was growing bigger.

“No, thanks.” Zoro responded curtly again, and you left the room.

Recently, Zoro had been so sexually frustrated that he couldn’t go a whole day without excusing himself to the bathroom to masturbate—and you had been the object of his fantasies for weeks. He felt a bit guilty after cumming so hard to the thought of you straddling him, arching your back for him, spitting on his cock and sucking it dry, moaning sweetly as his fingers wandered inside of you…  Even before you were positioned down there by his crotch, he would see you walking around deck without a bra on and in a big t-shirt and he just couldn’t help but get ravenous thinking about you riding him.

Of course, you never noticed. You just thought he was sassy and kind of a dick sometimes. But he was being even coarser with you to compensate for how much you had taken over his mind. Having you so close to him for the first time, looking up at him while your body was bent over his, being able to see the outline of your breasts even closer and having an excuse to look… he wasn’t taking it well. He was getting harder by the minute, but managed to fight it off before you came back in an hour to carefully put ice packs on his shoulder. He held his breath when you got that close to him.

Zoro was shirtless, and while you were changing his ice packs and adjusting the padding, you couldn’t help but notice how tan and ripped he was. Even his scars were beautiful because they held stories, memories, pain, and strength. They told a narrative about his past, one which you admired him for. Zoro’s jaw was chiseled, his brow bone strong, his mossy hair was ruffled and endearing, his arms and chest were solid, like they were made of iron. He smelled good, which was weird, because you couldn’t remember the last time he bathed. He was rugged, beat up, covered in small scars and large ones, bruises, and marks. And he was all the more attractive for it.

“Is there anything else you need, Zo?” You had never used that cute nickname before. He took a second to answer because he was just staring at you, caught off guard again.

Zoro was thrown off by how much he was enjoying this, and he was realizing that he felt some sort of way about you. He hadn’t been annoyed, in fact, quite the opposite. He was sexually frustrated and didn’t know how to handle your presence. He realized that he loved it when you touched him, he even loved the sound of your voice. He was putting the pieces together. All things considered, it seems like he had an enormous crush on you that he hadn’t realized until then.

“Zoro?” You asked again, seeing he was spaced out. “Do you need anything else?”

“No, I’m fine. Thanks.” He waved his hand. When you left, the room felt empty. He didn’t know what to do with himself. Not only was he horny, but he was also bored. This is a painful combination, as I’m sure we all know.

The second day you cared for him was much like the first. You changed his ice packs many times. He only got up to go to the bathroom. The only thing that really sucked for him was the horniness and the boredom, neither of which seemed to have a cure that didn’t involve you.

“How’s your pain level?” You asked on one of your trips to his room.

“I’m fine. It’s not bad at all.”

“Ok cool. Do you need anything else?” You queried sweetly, again taking his breath away with your tender eye contact and attentiveness.

“No, I’m good. I’m going fucking crazy with boredom.” He opened up a bit, being the most real with you that he had been so far.

“Do you want me to read you a book? Or we can talk?” You asked.

Zoro thought about it for a second. He worried that he would get hard again if you were around for too long. You, his nurse, were a blessing and a curse.

“No, but thanks. I guess I’ll take a nap.” He responded, and you left the room.

Zoro waited until you were out of the room, and he heard your footsteps retreat down the hallway before he let himself get carried away again. He needed to masturbate as soon as possible. He’d gone almost two whole days without doing it, which was unheard of for him. Your presence was really throwing him for a loop. He let himself indulge in fantasizing about you for just a second and he was hard almost immediately. The blood rushed to his cock with such a speed that you’d think he would have gotten one of Sanji’s nosebleeds. His body was craving your touch. He felt like his core was on fire with need.

Zoro imagined you crawling on top of him naked and rubbing your sopping wet cunt all over his dick—he imagined you humping and grinding on it, getting off on it, before fucking yourself with it. He imagined you cumming on his dick and moaning his name. At this point his hand had crept down to palm at his erection through his shorts. He was desperate for it. He grinded his palm down and over his hard bulge.

It had been so long since he touched himself. Zoro was starving for it. He imagined you sucking him off, cumming on your face, your mouth wide open to taste him, licking his cum off your lips. Zoro now took his cock from his boxer briefs and started stroking it slowly, up and down, moving his hand slightly so it felt just right. He was using the hand from the non-injured side of his body. He figured it would be fine, since he only had to worry about the other shoulder.

Zoro imagined fucking you from behind, fucking you from the side, fucking you standing up, fucking you over a counter, on the bed, on the kitchen table, in the crow’s nest, on the floor… He imagined cumming on your ass, on your tits, on your lips, on your stomach… he was stroking himself harder and faster now, fisting his cock furiously, precum smearing down his fingers, letting out muted gasps and grunts, wet sounds seeping into the air. He was getting so close to climax; he could see you so clearly in his mind.

Zoro was just a couple seconds away from orgasming when—“Hey Zoro, OH! Fuck!”

You had opened his door without knocking and just waltzed right in with a glass of water for him. You realized you forgot to refill it earlier and it had been maybe 20 minutes since you first left Zoro for his “nap.” When you walked in and realized what he was doing, your heart stopped, and your brain took a mental screenshot.

He was bent slightly, tensed up, his hand jerking up and down, his cock red and weeping precum, his head was thrown back. His brow was furrowed, he was panting, grunting, lost in pleasure. Zoro let out a small gasp when he saw you and immediately tried to pull his boxer briefs up, letting out an accidental and loud “FUCK”. As he tensed and tried to cover up his cock his shoulder seized up. Pain seared across his shoulders, up his neck, down his spine. He winced.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry I-I’ll come back later!!” You screeched and turned around immediately, slamming the door. The interaction lasted a couple seconds but left you both flustered, disturbed, embarrassed, and cringing.

And holy shit, was Zoro embarrassed. His erection was immediately gone, and he was pissed at you for not knocking on the door. He was incredulous. In addition, his shoulder hurt so badly that it was pulsing in pain. Why the fuck didn’t she knock? His heartbeat was through the roof—he didn’t know how to feel either, that you, the person who he had been getting off to, had walked in and interrupted. Was he… turned on by that? Surely not, yet he felt some sort of way about it and couldn’t put his finger on it.

You knocked on the door timidly an hour later.

“Yeah. Come in.” Zoro replied and his tone was icy. You peeked your head in.

“Hi… Zoro, I’m so sorry for not knocking.” You gave him puppy dog eyes and frowned. He thought you even looked cute while apologizing. “I really am sorry.”

“You bonehead,” he replied, scathingly. “Can’t a man have a second of peace? Jeez. Fucking knock next time.”

“I promise I will. I’m sorry, Zoro.” You were both blushing crimson and avoiding eye contact. The awkwardness was palpable, the silence suffocating.

“I-I- brought you some food and water… and a towel, in case you… y’know… in case you needed it.” You placed the items on the bedside table and almost ran out of the room. You couldn’t take the cringe anymore and you felt the animosity radiating from Zoro (or so you thought). Later, you changed Zoro’s ice packs and checked on his thigh bandage. When you changed his ice packs you could see that his shoulder looked worse; it was more inflamed, and he was hissing air out of his teeth every time you touched it.

“Sorry Zo, I know it hurts. But you know, you really shouldn’t masturbate for a few days while you heal.” You scolded him slightly.

“I injured my other shoulder, I’ll be fine.” He rolled his eyes. He wanted you to leave him alone. Bright red blush flooded his cheeks.

“No, Zoro, it’ll irritate the shoulder and arm muscles that are healing on your right side, even if you use your left hand.” You objected. “It’s going to make it difficult to heal if you irritate it, so just hold off for a couple days, ok? I’ll still knock though.”

Zoro sighed. “Okay, fine. I’ll try.” He was resigned and annoyed. Internally, though, he was cursing. How was he supposed to go multiple days if he didn’t manage to get off today? How was he supposed to keep himself in check if you were around him so frequently? He would go crazy, he’d die from blue balls, he’d cum in his shorts if you got any closer to him. This was not good. Zoro was worried it just wouldn’t be possible. No masturbating for the next few days… it was unheard of for him.

As he was battling and mentally preparing himself to hold off on touching himself, Zoro was also dying from embarrassment. You had seen him in such an intimate and probably unflattering position—fisting his cock in bed thinking about you. Gosh. He thought that you probably thought he was gross, that you regretted being his nurse, that you would never speak to him of your own accord now. You, on the other hand, were absentmindedly wondering what he was masturbating to. Part of you wished that you could know, and you wished that it was you, and the other part told you to stand up and get a grip because you were too old to be pining after a man, period.

The next day you were changing the bandage on his thigh and reapplying antibiotic ointment when he got a boner again, and this time it was very noticeable. Zoro was accidently imagining you bending down in between his knees and choking on his cock. He was imagining you cradling his balls, slurping up and down, spitting on his cock and—oh God, he had a boner now. A full-fledged boner and you were less than a foot away from it. You glanced up from his thigh and immediately noticed it.

“Fuck—sorry.” He choked out. To divert your attention and downplay the awkwardness, he came up with a poor and somewhat weird excuse. “Go put some clothes on, lady. Sheesh!” You were wearing a black tank top, and he could see a tiny bit of cleavage as well as the outline of your breasts underneath it without a bra on (you rarely wore a bra on the ship because why would you?). He had imagined you peeling off your tank top, pulling it over your shoulders, your breasts free and naked… The boner was still raging, his shorts became uncomfortably tight. You had, of course, taken note of how ridiculously huge it was.

You rolled your eyes. “Zoro, I always wear this!!”

“It’s indecent! GO put something else on!” He was using your tank top, exposed shoulders, and cleavage as an excuse for you to leave. He wanted to have a second to cool down and mentally try to extinguish his erection.

“Fine. Fucking hell.” You rolled your eyes again, genuinely annoyed.

Moments later, you returned in a light blue t-shirt, certainly more covered, but this was even worse for Zoro. The light color allowed him to make out the outline of your breasts even more. He cursed himself out for staring at you, but he couldn’t get his eyes to move. You noticed that he was laser focused on your chest and you started to blush. A fantasy flashed in his mind of latching onto one of your nipples and sucking, swirling his tongue around it while you moaned his name. Fuck. He still had the boner. It was getting even bigger now.

“Can’t you just hand me a pillow or something?” He asked, annoyed, and blushing vivid red.

“Ok Zoro, one sec.” You grabbed a pillow and threw it on him; he covered his erection.

The room was painfully silent. This was excruciating for both of you. Zoro’s hard on was pressing against the pillow and the pillow was doing far too little to conceal his erection, but even the friction of the pillow felt good.

When you came back with his dinner later that night the same thing happened. You walked in the room, set his dinner down, changed his ice packs and BOOM, another boner. He got even brighter red, and you matched him.

Zoro tried to defend himself from his rogue erections. He was worried he would make you uncomfortable. “Fuck, I swear it’s not you. I’m just dying over here. It’s been days.” He wrinkled his brow and looked at you, showing how agonized he was.

“You’ll be fine. Stop being so dramatic, Zoro.” You rolled your eyes for the thousandth time that day. “If you jerk off it will hurt your shoulder though, don’t forget. “

“Aghhhh” he groaned. “Fuck. Okay, I get it. Now just leave me alone.”

“Okay, big guy.” As you closed the door to his room, you threw one last sentence over your shoulder, half joking: “But… if you ever need a hand, let me know.”

Zoro was stunned. What the fuck did you just say? There’s no way. He thought it was funny that you were fucking with him like that but boy, did he wish you would give him a hand. He felt like a dog in heat, like he hadn’t fucked in ten years, like he was going to go crazy if he couldn’t let his load off in the next twenty minutes. He was so frustrated by this state that he couldn’t remedy. Unless you were being serious… but there’s no way, right? He had a boner all day at this point and he was getting sick of it.

The next day was more of the same. He had an instant boner the second you were changing his ice packs; it grew bigger when you checked on his thigh wound. You tried to ignore it, he blushed and averted his eyes again. You started to pity him at this point.

“Zoro, I was being serious about helping you out,” you looked at him carefully. “You look like you’re in agony. Are you really this sexually frustrated?” You were semi-joking with him, trying to banter to let the awkwardness dissipate.

Zoro swallowed hard and locked eyes with you again. He couldn’t tell if you were being serious, even though you just said so.

“I feel bad for you.” You said again, looking at him tenderly. “I’ll help you out if you need it, it doesn’t have to be weird.”

Zoro cleared his throat. “If you’re sure…” He trailed off.

“I am your nurse, after all,” you tried to put him at ease, joking.

“Stop teasing me,” Zoro pleaded pathetically. “I’m dying over here.”

“You know, you’re cute when you get flustered,” you poked some fun at him. He blushed again, his boner huge and pushing on his shorts, painfully obvious.

“Fine. Let’s just get it over with. I can’t take it anymore.” He looked at you with genuine anguish, his heartbeat racing each second, erection growing, rubbing against the coarse fabric of his shorts, pulsing with need.

“Okay, but make sure to hold still. Don’t go shaking around or anything, it will fuck your shoulder up.” You cautioned him and he rolled his eyes.

“I’m sure I won’t be doing any ‘shaking around’. Now let’s just get this over with.” He was visibly distressed.

(*) You shifted closer to Zoro, sitting on the bed. Your hand crept up and ran over his boner, and he inhaled sharply, looking away from you, tensed up. You unzipped his shorts and shifted them down, giving yourself just enough access to his bulging cock that was rock hard.

Another tug and his boxer briefs were down, freeing his cock, which sprung into the air, huge, girthy, long, red and inflamed already. Your hand tentatively grasped his shaft and he shuddered. Reaching your other hand to caress his balls, Zoro couldn’t believe this was happening. It was one of his fantasies. Your soft hand began to move up and down his length. It felt so fucking good. He was finally, finally getting off, after days of torment. He had to mentally steady himself not to cum within two minutes.

You looked at Zoro and he had thrown his head back, eyes closed, blushing and obviously embarrassed. His mouth hung open barely, letting out puffs of air. He was so, so worked up, it was unreal.

As you stroked him and massaged his balls you realized that you should have grabbed lube or something. You spat in your hand and started rubbing his cock with more fluidity. The wetness of your spit felt amazing. Electricity ran up and down Zoro’s core and his cock was pulsing, jumping in your hand. He let out a small groan. He wasn’t expecting you to spit on it and it aroused him more than he thought was possible.

Zoro’s tip started to leak precum onto your fingers. It was milky and white, pooling out of him, lubing his throbbing red cock even more. He lost composure and started to groan quietly. You looked up at him again and he was watching your fingers sloppily graze up and down his slicked-up cock. Your hand picked up speed.

“Does that feel good?” You whispered at him, both hands now stroking his shaft, leisurely jerking him up and down. He nodded clumsily and threw his head back with a deep groan.

“Fuck. Don’t stop,” Zoro said hoarsely, and his deep voice made fire pool in your stomach. You were wet already. You wished you could put his cock in you and ride on it, grind on it, bounce up and down on it, moaning his name. You removed a hand from his cock and crept it into your pants, rubbing your clit under your panties. You couldn’t help it. He was groaning and moaning, panting, his dick twinging—you were unbelievably turned on.

When Zoro saw you touching yourself, his heart stopped. Your eyes met and you looked at him with need and desire so plain on your face it was shocking. His hips started to buck up into your hand, making you jerk him off faster and deeper. He was desperate. He needed more, he wanted to cum so bad, he wanted to moan your name, watch you cum from touching yourself.

“Oh my fuck,” he whimpered. “Feels so fucking good. I needed this so bad, I was going crazy, I wanted you to touch me so bad.” Your face flushed red, and you fingers moved faster, your wetness seeping into your already soaking panties, gasping with pleasure as his words went straight to your pussy. Zoro was watching you pleasure yourself and it felt good.

“I wish I could fuck you right now,” you murmured quietly.

“Please,” he begged. “Please fuck me.” His voice was deep and gravelly, he was out of breath, his face twisted in pleasure, his hips jerking up into your hand fervently.

“I can’t,” you pleaded. “It will hurt you, Zo. We have to wait.” He furrowed his brow and closed his eyes, letting out another moan.

You took your hand away from your dripping wet panties and started to stroke him with your own wetness. Zoro could feel every drop of it. He was shaking, moments away from orgasm.

“I’m going to cum,” he whispered. “Fuck.”

Your hands moved faster, squeezing him tighter, encouraging him to let it out. Seconds later he let out a deep, desperate, harsh groan and convulsed. He came hard. His cum spurted out of his tip that was red and inflamed, shooting ropes of sticky milk all over your hands and on his own stomach.

He moaned your name deep, low, and drawn out, and your pussy vibrated. You moved a hand to rub your clit again immediately upon hearing his deep and needy groans. Hearing him utter your name so sensually made you feel feral. It was something you had been dreaming of for so long. As you came, you moaned his name back at him. “Zoro, fuck.”

After a moment of endorphins blitzing his brain, Zoro regained clarity. “Holy shit,” he panted out. “I needed that so bad.”

“I know you did,” you replied. Something came over you and you leaned up to kiss him. He went rigid and then slowly melted into your lips. It was intimate and special; it was more than just a transactional hand job—the kiss transformed the moment into something more than that.

Looking down at his cum that laced his stomach, you quipped, “I’ll have to try that next time.”

“Next time?” He looked at you cluelessly, blushing.

“Mmmhmm. Now let’s get you cleaned up.”

( ˘ ³˘)♥ (・ω<) (^≗ω≗^)

check out part 2 if you're interested! thank u so so much for reading!!

also here is my masterlist :3

[xochimillilili]

Need more of you kinky fucks to talk about how fucking good it is to be mutually subby with someone. The desperate whiny humping, the drooling and moaning into each other's mouths as we dumbly make out, the biting and scratching and needy groping, and making a pretty mess of cum on each other

Really just euphoric to cuddle and hump away, two dumb horny pets moaning and whining please at each other, both being such good fucking pets as we cum at the same time, whining and whispering I love you and falling asleep in each other's arms, all spent and fucked out in each other's cum

[midnightorchids]

fuck it here’s some dating firefighter!jason headcanons… there’s one suggestive pick up line at the very end ;(

- He often leaves your shared home in a chaotic state— hair disheveled, shoe laces untied and a piece of toast hanging from his mouth

- However despite his hastiness, Jason never seems to forget to kiss you goodbye. His lips would connect with the plump skin of your cheeks first and then travel to your lips. He’d mutter small a “I’ll see you tonight,” and send you a quick wink before running out the door

- He laughs at your jokes and always continues the bit. If you make a fire joke/pun, you know he’s about to make a million more

- “I don't need a fire alarm to tell me that you're on fire.” “Jay come up with something better please”

- Jason works late at the station, so on days where you have some free time, you bring him a shawarma from his favourite restaurant. He’s always surprised, but so unbelievably happy at the same time. If he’s not too busy, you’ll stay and steal a couple bites of his wrap while he tells you about his day

- He brags about you to his coworkers. Like a lot. They all know you by name and they often tease Jason for not shutting the fuck up, they’re tired of hearing about you (actually they’re just jealous)

- Jason is really protective over you, especially in public spaces. He always has his hand on the small of your back or has your hands interlocked. He guides you through crowds and makes sure to keep close. On the off chance that you’re not near him, his eyes will still be on you. It’s never weird or overbearing though, he’s protective, but he’s not over the top

- he regularly watches crime and law enforcement shows with you and has a habit of pointing out inaccuracies (especially when the fire department’s involved). It’s annoying because he talks a lot, but also, it’s so cute when he gets worked up over the small details

- “The fire escape isn't the only thing I want to go down on.” “JASON WHAT THE FUCK WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT…!! ;)”

[omitea]

❝ CAN YOU KISS ME MORE .ᐣ.ᐟ ❞ — g. satoru

a loud and obnoxious sound echoed throughout the living room as satoru planted yet another big wet kiss on your puckered lips. two of his slender fingers were enough to squish your cheeks together and the upcoming soreness beneath the slight calloused pads made itself known the longer he held you in place.

the more he kept kissing you, the less you could taste the strawberry lip balm that once coated his pretty pink lips. with a gentle push, you finally managed to free yourself from his grip— causing a soft dejected whine to escape his throat. “what?" satoru questioned as confusion settled within him. the sight was almost ridiculous; a grown man looking like a puppy that has been reprimanded for its actions.

with a quiet sigh, you pat his chest. and it doesn't surprise you when you feel it thump rapidly against the palm of your hand, a constant reminder of how you still make him feel even after all these years. the idea of that makes you suppress a shy smile. "keep kissing me like that and your lips will start looking like a prune."

the white-haired man simply scoffed in offence, struggling to obtain his façade. "just give me one more kiss and i will forgive you for being so mean," he simply muttered and he leaned in again until the tip of his nose was touching yours. as if he wasn't close enough, your husband pried your legs open with his knees— pushing you further into the couch.

you reached out and swiftly wiped at the corner of his mouth, getting rid of a small splotch of saliva that appeared when he was practically busy attacking your lips not even three minutes ago. "c'mon, sweets..." he pleaded. his long white lashes fluttering against the apple of his flushed cheeks as he leaned into the warmth of your palm. "don't deprive me of that." it was hard not to say yes when he looked at you so sweetly. yet with all the attention you were giving him, you missed that particular glint in those eyes.

a small kiss on your skin and your hand found its way in his hair. fluffy white strands being tangled as you brought his face closer to yours, lips aching to touched. satoru hummed in satisfaction, whining into your mouth while sinking his pristine white teeth into your already swollen bottom lip.

for someone so smart, you sure were foolish enough if you thought that one kiss was all he wanted.

©𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐀 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 & 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 !

[fumiliar]

aftermath - kento nanami

✎...angst? fluff?, mostly fluff, he lives!, kento and y/n are engaged, post-shibuya, mentions of scars, insecure kento

kento never felt insecure in himself, till now. as he stared at the mirror with a grimace, with a seething self-hatred. he didn't deserve you, he didn't. you deserve someone better, a him without burns or scars. he wouldn't have resented you if you left, he was incomplete. he couldn't complete the puzzle with his imperfect self.

seeing you used to bring joy to kento's heart, the type of joy that gets you giddy, the kind of joy you'd risk a lifetime to feel. yet all he could feel now was a sense of guilt. to come back to you in this state, he didn't feel joy. no. he felt ashamed, embarrassed. yet, all these feelings were limited to himself.

you loved this man, burns or without; he was still perfect in all senses of the word. there was no bone, no. there was no part of you that didn't think he was the one. you could not give a flying fuck that he was injured, or that he had to wear an eyepatch. he was the man who stayed with you through thick and thin, he was the one who built you when you were scattered in pieces. he was the one who carefully assembled you with love and care. now, it was your turn to do the same.

"why are you still with me y/n?" his eyes glistening with tears as he suffocated himself in your embrace.

"why do you think i'm shallow enough to leave you because of some burns and scar?" you played with kento's hair, twirling it in your hands

"not only that, i'm damaged, physically and mentally, i'll never be the same," kento looked up at your face, surprised to see a smile, the exact same smile when he admitted he loved you.

your hands softly cupped his cheeks, trying your best to avoid his sensitive spots. "you're still the same kento in my eyes," you lovingly looked at the crying man, slowly wiping his tears.

"i love you ken, i don't know why you can't wrap your head around that," you kissed his forehead, softly caressing his cheek. "i love you so much, there is no word in the world that could encapsulate exactly how i feel towards you. you are my past, my present and my future. i'm just thankful enough that you're alive, to be a part of my life from hereon. we're engaged for fuck's sake, i would've never said yes if i didn't want to be with you."

"i can't believe you're going to be my wife soon," kento muttered, bringing himself closer to your face, giving you a kiss. "i can't fathom a world without you y/n."

"me too ken."

[pinescent-and-gingerbread]

✧ Fantasies in the dark - II

✦ Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Female!Reader ✦ Summary: Arthur's obsession with you intensifies and reaches a point of no return when you catch him red-handed... ✦ Warnings/tags: SMUT 18+, MDNI! Masturbation (again), Arthur is still a little pervy, stripping, p in v, Arthur's self-esteem's still shitty, sub!Arthur at first then switches into dom, Reader is a BIG tease. Mainly Arthur's pov. ✦ Words: 5k (oops) Arthur's pic is mine, others are from Pinterest. And as always, as English isn't my first language, prepare for some possible misspellings. Read on AO3

Part I - Part II

 A ruby, squared, soft form.

His eyes are stuck on it as his thoughts unthread and tangle endlessly in his brain. 

Arthur was a damned man. He had been for a while now and this fatality had settled into his head for a few years already. His sins were so numerous and varied that he hadn’t even considered the thought of going to rest in Heaven when the Grim Reaper would finally put an end to his sufferings. 

But even considering all of this, the gunslinger had definitely not planned on adding a new sin to his list by jerking himself off while watching you almost every night for more than half a month. Oh, the same old speech was still playing in his head; his gesture leaking with shame and muscles sweaty from fear of getting caught. The adrenaline and depravation of the act, the sweet, sweet relief of his orgasm, and the momentary satisfaction he was pulling out of it every time was a very dangerous cocktail; he knew it.

He knew, knew, knew everything of that, of course he did. And still, his fingers opening his fly carelessly. Still, his eyes searching for this sublime silhouette of yours. Still, his cock hardening, itching, burning, begging to be grabbed. And still, his hands taking the doomed responsibility of answering the call. Still his muffled groans, his lips bitten, his silent words spoken in his head, your body joining him. Still, your hand, instead of his. His spend, less and less consistent, spurting quickly and spreading on his dirty clothes, the silence following, the emptiness, the shame, the guilt, the coldness amplified by his intimate fantasies. Like those dark loud nights of storms, air charged with electricity, and left in heavy disturbing quietness after the last lightning struck. Still, dreaming, wanting, longing. 

Still you.

He felt insatiable, like an enraged, mad dog, pathetic bastard. And paradoxically, as he finally had found sleep again after allowing his body what it needed, he felt weaker than ever. Weakened by you.

You hadn't left him after the first night he had succumbed to temptation. You had branded his spirit with a red-hot iron. Damned him to a lifetime of ache, a mortal succumbing to a Mermaid's melody and sailing in search of her on an infinite sea.

 A ruby, squared, soft form. 

It’s your shawl lying on a chair. You forgot it a few minutes ago, but he didn’t say anything about it. He’s still looking at it, hands fidgeting, mind pondering. What’s good and what’s bad. The ugliness of his self and soul. The risks, the benefits. 

He thinks back to the day you and him just shared. A job in Rhodes, “needing to be taken care of by two people”, Dutch’s words. He had sent him, which was predictable —the gang’s workhorse rarely knows rest. But you? It surprised him a whole lot more. Something about the job requesting some “feminine charm”. He hadn’t complained. Not when he had realized he would be able to spend some time alone with you. 

And his gaze had been wandering way more than what common decency was allowing him to. Staring and dreaming were all he had been doing lately, anyhow.

Looking at the delicious cleavage your fancy dress was offering when you got out of your tent and joined him back at camp, your breasts pressed up and round, almost impossible not to devour with his eyes. All he could do was make a sarcastic comment about it as the only defense against his urges. You moron Morgan, just say something nice for once. Luckily -or not- for him, you had wrapped your appealing shoulders in the sophisticated cherry-colored cape to prevent the coldness of the night.

Looking at your back as you both rode into town, looking at your neck when he helped you off your horse once into Rhodes. Looking at your lips as you two were sat in one of the Parlor’s house boxes, the job long-forgotten when he had noticed this little wrinkle next to your lips, that one you have when you laugh and find something funny. He would have to add it to his endless sketches of you.

Looking at your thin, sneaky hands from afar as they were slipping into that wealthy gentleman’s pocket to steal the papers you were both here for in the first place. It all felt distant and insignificant to him now, as a forgettable theater play set in the background. 

Later, you had been the one looking at him when he had come to your rescue. The “gentleman” was being insistent with you. As you both had crossed eyes from across the reception room, Arthur had read your apprehension and silent call for help in just a split second. And here he was, puffing out his chest, look dark and intense, muscles tensed. The perfect look of a man you don’t want to cross, that look he and Hosea had worked hard on building, scars and broad shoulders gained after all these years of intimidation. He was so used to it by now he wasn’t even sure he knew how to be anything else. His pointer finger tapping threateningly on the shiny Deputy Star he had on his jacket and his deep, menacing tone had acted as the final details. You should leave the lady alone and get some fresh air, pal. The fool had dropped the case and returned with his tail between his legs without any clue what had actually happened.

And then, your sweet voice asking for a drink. “Come on, we got to celebrate! Finally, a job well handled without a drop of blood.” How could he ever say no to that? It was almost too good to be true. Spending the evening with you, laughing, talking, philosophizing.

Arthur didn’t know he could be that talkative. Maybe it was the whiskey. Maybe it was your presence. Maybe a bit of both. And he had paid for everything. A good hot dinner for both of you, your drinks, and two rooms the moment you told him you were too tired to ride back to camp. Oh, he could have given you all the Wolrd’s treasure if that meant you would keep looking at him with these pretty playful eyes.

As the evening passed, the gentle flow of your endless conversations had led you from the bar to the stairs, to the second floor, to the hallway, and eventually to his room, naturally and serenely, like a rowboat ride on a summer lake.

And finally, after a few yawns exchanged, some delicate eyelids rubbed by you, you had left him to sleep, completely forgetting about your shawl, hanging on one of his room’s chairs. And you had greeted each other goodnight. As friends. This was all he would ever be to you, he knew it. And it was better that way. Like this, he was preserving you from having a pathetic man and a pathetic life being his. He was like an infertile soil, anyway. Any seed you would plant and try to harvest with him would end up rotten, corrupted. Fruitless.

And now left in the stillness of the room, in this deafening silence without the sound of your voice, his vision fixated on your abandoned piece of clothing, the most sinful of all thoughts is digging its way through the fibers of his brain, fed by need and alcohol, gnawing at his neurons, eating up any rational reasoning. 

A ruby, tempting garment of yours.

He wants to grab it. To smell it. He wants your perfume to completely fill his nose, so much it would be like drowning in your scent. You wouldn’t be coming back for it anyway, considering how tired you looked a few minutes ago. And you’d never know about it. Just like you didn’t know he was watching you all this time through the fabric of your tent. After all, he was already so deep down into this rabbit hole of lust, what would it change?

And just like that, before he can even think about it more, his arm is already extending, his fingers wrapping around the forbidden fruit.

A descent into Hell he is not able to stop nor control. And at the same time, it feels like getting closer to Heaven.

He lays on the bed, back against the coarse sheets that still felt better than his cot back at camp, and brings your stole to his nose, almost covering his face with it. He closes his eyes.

And he breathes in.

Hell. If God wanted him to stay virtuous, why did he create such a temptatious woman like you? Your scent is without any surprise just as irresistible and bewitching as your whole self.

The fruity notes of it remind him of your skin and lips he wants to taste so badly, a mouth-watering gourmet scent. The floral and fresh ones, of this sparkling mischievousness in your eyes. And in the end, as he exhales, warm and spicy aromas rain on him. They fill his mind with a deep sense of comfort, as if scenting directly your hair. It’s intoxicating, spellbinding. Driving him deeper into his madness. He doesn’t try to resist, not anymore, this delightful fresco of fragrances painted just for him.

Naturally and almost subconsciously, his vicious right hand reaches his crotch. He’s already hard. Just by smelling your shawl.

This time you’ve really hit rock bottom, old bastard.

He doesn’t even bother thinking about it more, he already knows he’s too deep in; already knows he won’t be able to stop himself. 

Ah shit, screw it, jus’ a quick wank.

He quickly unbuckles his holster belt, then unbuttons his pants, and snakes his hand between the folds of his union suit. A silent swift dance he is used to repeating by now. 

He breathes again a long, deep whiff, and wraps his fingers around his cock thinking of you, once more. 

He sees you and your perfect body, and everything blends and blurs in his heated psyche. The form of your breasts and ass through the tent's canvas he knew by heart at this point. Your smirk, your eyes looking back at his, only his during this night spent together. Your heady, addicting scent surrounds him and fuels his fantasies even more, making them more vivid than before, the soft fabric of the stole against his skin a light caress he imagines yours.

He strokes and strokes and strokes, he needs it more than ever, even if, truth be told, every time is more than ever. His pinkish cock’s head is reddened and swollen from having been rubbed so many times lately, sensible and almost pained. But he doesn't care. It makes him feel even more alive. Even more here. Simply better.

He wants his body to feel pleasure. Pleasure, for once, instead of pain. Pain all the time, pain everywhere, bullets through his muscles, knives on his skin, cutting through his flesh, fists against his bones, breaking his jaws, his nose, his cheeks. Broken, used, beaten, ripped, bruised, overworked, abused. Oh, he’s tired of it. Only in those prohibited moments, he can experience pleasure. No matter how wicked and profane.

The room is now filled with those wet, fast-paced sounds, his rustling against the sheets, and the smallest of grunts coming from his unholy lips as he fucks his fist. Your name escapes him from time to time, muffled by your shawl he's still holding all against him with his left hand, and breathing the air from.

As if all the World’s oxygen would never be as good as breathing through it. As if everything else would feel thick and fusty in his lungs. No Mountains, no Oceans, no flowers, not the tastiest food, nothing could ever compete with smelling your scent. 

Stroke, stroke, stroke. Goddamn it, she’s perfect. A big, hard stroke. Oh God, yes, just a bit more…

Too absorbed by his delirious daydream, he doesn't notice right away the creaking of the door as you enter his room again, searching for the very thing he's using to masturbate right now.

“Arthur, I’m sorry to bother you again but I think I forgot my sh—”

You freeze.

SHIT! He instantly curses loudly and jumps from the bed so suddenly that he almost falls to the ground. A stumbling mess, his holster crashes on the wooden floor with a loud percussive sound as he shoves his member back into his clothes as fast as possible, looking like a disjointed chaos of limbs. He is mortified. There is no way in the world you won’t understand what was just happening. He ends up standing next to the bed, after having thrown your cape at the other corner of the room with such force it looked like the damn thing was made of burning iron. And he doesn’t even know why. Maybe to distance himself from his sins. To try and erase this horrible vision from your pretty eyes. His labored breath and fast-beating heartbeat are now ruled by panic instead of lust. For all his life he had never experienced such shame and felt so utterly stupid. 

There is a small moment of silence, heavy and embarrassed. A little time of denying. No, this can’t be happening. But your look turns in circles from the bed, him, and the scarf, circling him like a cornered animal. That’s it, his pride is dead right here in this stupid hotel room. You see right through him, he’s sure of it. Your piercing beautiful gaze lands on his ears a few times, and he knows they’re crimson just by the heat he can feel on them. But the worst thing of all is his bulge, obvious and raised up as a flag right in the middle of his thighs, under his badly buttoned fly. Like a Mausoleum to his Dignity. The damn thing refusing to shrink and obviously screaming loudly his offence to the whole World. All the contrary, your gaze falling on it produces the exact opposite of what he wants, his cock almost twitching in return. 

Damn it!

Damn it, damn it, damn it!-

“Where you… Hum…” You start, before clearing your throat slightly.

“ ‘m sorry, Am… I didn’t mean to… ‘m such a goddamn fool.” This is the best he can come up with. What excuses could he have anyway? Nothing could justify what he did.

You had never heard his deep asserted voice so chagrined. Utter fear and shame. You didn’t even know he could feel that way.

His gaze is fixated on his dirty boots, refusing to cross yours. Just as goddamn dirty as me. 

“Were you pleasuring yourself, Mister Morgan?” You ask, your tone slightly playful. He doesn’t see it, but a mischievous grin settles on your face.

He takes your tone as a mocking one. You would have all the right to mock him. That’s all he deserved.

He tries to answer but doesn't even dare to admit it verbally, as if it would aggravate his situation. He just nods slowly, as seriously as if he was at a funeral. 

“With one of my clothes?” You ask again, your grin widening.

Another nod, his eyes shutting as if he had been hit by something, your sentence making the whole thing even worse. Oh, just a few seconds ago, he was feeling more present and alive than ever, and now all he wanted was to disappear or die.

He hears more than he sees your steps on the parquet. Every stomping sound hurt him a bit more. He doesn't even dare to move. As if everything he would do from now would offend you. Even breathing, no, even existing is too much.

She’s going to slap me. A step. She's going to yell in my face. Another step. I’m dead. A final step.

You’re so close to him now he’s holding his breath, eyes closed, ready to face the well-deserved punishment of your choice for his trespass.

But he's only met with stillness until you speak again.

“Arthur, do you really think I was that hot in my tent, every night?”

The words reach his ears but his brain refuses them. His mouth opens in astonishment. He closes it to swallow loudly and opens it again as if trying to speak in utter confusion.

“You… I… Wait, really?”

“I never thought you could be that naive, honestly.” You answer, a little chuckle escaping you. One of your hands slowly reaches the side of his face, but he still shivers slightly when it touches him. You guide his head back up for him to finally look you in the eyes.

Arthur's two blue sapphires are topped with anxious brows. A bright confusion and a soft vulnerability. They don’t settle too long on one point of your face out of nervousness, as if they could burn you.

“M-me neither.” He simply whispers, a bashful, nervous smile settling on his mouth. He still doesn’t move.

“Do you really think I wasn’t aware of what I was doing, mmh?” You continue, your fingers traveling from his face all the way down his neck, gently caressing the base of his hair.

You can’t be serious right now.

“I… I don’ know…” And he really doesn’t. This is all so unbelievable to him that he’s persuaded this is all a dream and he’s going to wake up any moment.

The only thing anchoring him to reality is your fingers exploring him, making him slowly let out the breath he had been holding in his chest.

“Let me help you finish what you've started…” You murmur, voice low and obvious to what you’re implying, sultry, suggestive.

He feels his shaft pulsing again instantly in answer, his body once again taking the lead. He’s about to say something, to ask you if you’re sure you want to do this with an old bitter moron like him, but one of your hands is already reaching straight to his crotch, palming his warm, needy erection.

“Anh…!” The moan turning into a groan he lets out duplicates your own arousal.

His hips rock against your hand involuntarily, the need for contact of any sort getting more powerful than his shame. He still doesn’t dare do much to you though, not wanting to cross any more limits. He lets you handle him just like you want. He lets the flow of life take him instead of fighting against it, for once. The only gesture he allows is settling his big hands on your back, sweaty and almost shaking.

Oh, your sneaky fingers. They touch and grope and palpate, and he sighs louder. It feels so much better, to have your hand touching him.

After a few more teasing caresses, you sway in a smooth motion and playfully push him backward, making him fall on the bed. He sits there, looking up at you with those two adoring cerulean pupils, as if you were the Sun itself. A distant magnificent star, impossible for him to reach, condemned to only contemplate.

“Get your clothes off.” You order, his reactions making you more confident and straightforward than usual. 

He is quick to obey. You could have asked him to jump off a cliff and he would have done it without even thinking. His clothes fall one by one on the floor and you feast on every area of skin he’s offering you. He ends up entirely naked for your eyes. This Titan, cascade of virile hairs everywhere, prominent scarred muscles carved into stone by Ares himself, gorged with raw powerfulness and designed to kill. To survive. And between those open thick thighs, his aroused member. The one he thought of as the triumph of his shame a few minutes ago, is now the Apotheosis of his Glory. Thick, long, hard like him, surrounded by a crown of tawny curls.

“Look at you…” You let out, almost licking your lips. But he doesn’t answer. He doesn’t see what you do at all. Instead, he let his gaze wander on your chest, and you can almost hear the silent plea in his gaze for you to join his nakedness.

Standing right in front of him, you begin to strip yourself out of your clothes, agonizingly slowly, your face displaying this provocative grin that turns him on so much. It’s purposeful, and you feel your own arousal rising as you notice the red coming back to his cheeks and ears.

First, your boots and socks, discovering your delicate legs. Then your blouse, showing your shoulder and chest, then your skirt. He stays silent all the while, enjoying your little show more than you could imagine. Your hips swaying, your arms gracefully dancing, each piece of clothing falling on the ground, this is all a trance he's getting hypnotized by.

Seeing you undress just for him after all those nights spent on his cot touching himself watching your shadow is like adding all the missing color from a masterpiece, enhancing and fulfilling.

“That’s what you’ve been thinking about?” You purr proudly, now in your undergarments.

“God yes. Yer a real’ angel.” He praises in a fevered-like whisper.

You smirk as all answer. “Come on now, show me those dirty things you’ve been doing.” You speak while nodding at his crotch in an almost challenging way.

His hand instantly reaches for his cock. It was itching him to since you had looked at it earlier. He presses his fingers hard around it and he grunts softly, the sound incredible to your ears. Obeying you and surrendering fully to his depravation, he slowly starts stroking himself again while watching you intensely. What did he do to deserve such a splendid spectacle?

That’s when you decide to slowly bend inward and undo the last pieces of clothing you still have. Just a few gestures and your breasts are bare and hanging for him to look at. Jeee-sus. You see and hear his hand speeding up. 

Lastly, you reveal your own sex to him, a pearl between those gorgeous thighs of yours, and he curses out loud this time.

“You're so goddamn beautiful. I could... Damn, I could finish right now jus' lookin' atchu.” He confesses, his cheeks, ears, and chest getting even redder at his own words.

“Really, uh? You're quite easy to tease, Mister Morgan.” You tease, before turning around and bending again, wanting him to see your bottom, taking a more than suggestive position with your ass up.

“Oh, for God sake.” He nearly chokes, his rhythm accelerating again; almost frenetic. This is all he ever wanted during those cold lonely moments. All he ever needed to see. And he can’t help but engrave every little detail in his mind; the little scars you have here and there, the different tone and grain of your skin, your hairs, your body’s hollows and bumps. Every little imperfection. And they make it all even better. Better than any fantasies he had ever pictured in the past few weeks. Because they are making you yourself.

You turn again to face him and straddle his lap, unable to resist your own urges that had been building and building since you had found him touching himself to the thought of you.

That’s when something finally lights up in his mind. The moment he feels your soft, warm thighs around him, and how you’re soaked in between them, it hits him. You’ve been wanting him just as badly as he wanted you. As odd and surprising as it sounds to him. This new reality is right there against his tip as you start rubbing your entrance against it, teasing, playing, pressing just a few inches in, gently praising how big he looks and how good it would be to have him inside of you. 

That thing inside of him explodes.

Suddenly his hands are all over you. Touching everything they can, discovering, molding your curves under his fingertips. Hands on your thighs, hands on your hips, waist, neck. Each part of you touched is breaking every chain that was holding him back, one by one. These perfect sensations blind him to any reasoning, any sense of restrain, and push him to palm your breasts. God, the softness, the warmth. He sighs in appreciation as he kneads both of them and you join his pleasured breathing.

More.

One of his hands leaves your chest to grab your ass, roughly, and he squeezes, hard, while he sucks on the breast that has been abandoned. “Arthur!” You moan out in return, pleasured and surprised voice, mouth left open in delight. Oh, he will satisfy you. Those renewed vows appear as clear as day between the mess of his head as he keeps devouring your nipple endlessly, almost suckling at it. He will push that voice of you to its limit, break it until you won’t be able to scream.

“That’ what you wanted all this time, uh? Drivin’ me insane?”

You search for something clever to throw back at him but the calloused hand on your breast suddenly reaches your cunt and you gasp instead. 

“That’ what you do? Torture poor devil like me until they can’t help but fall for you?” He asks again, his confidence heightened by your sweet sounds, his tone getting darker and darker. Touching your folds pleasures him almost as much as you, his brows furrowing into a needy and intense expression.

“J-just you… ‘Just wanted you to notice me…” You admit, your hips rolling on his lap and against his hand. His fingers part your cunt and trace their own way through this little Heaven, exploring this place he had craved so much; and it makes him more excited than any thoughts he could have had on his own.

“Well, that sure worked, girl.”

He lets go of your pussy and you squeal in protest, almost ashamed of your own sound. He smiles triumphantly at you, feeling satisfied to give you a taste of your own medicine. He wraps both of his arms around your waist, your chest ending up pressed against his face; his nose is shoved in it and he sighs louder this time. 

He can’t wait any longer. Not when he has been dreaming of this for weeks. Not after discovering your unforgettable perfume. Not after having felt this wet, warm promise of your entrance. He looks up at your face, searching for any trace of disgust or apprehension but you're completely free from any. Mouth agape, breaths deep and hips shamelessly searching for his, you're even more gorgeous than before, and he snaps.

He guides you carefully, his hands warm and hard against your bare skin. And he pushes.

His sex entering you slowly is deliciously hard and hot. His cockhead is big, way bigger than what you’re used to, and feels so good already. His arms hold you in place as he pushes again, wanting to be completely stuffed in, a long, low growling sound accompanying his movement. Oh, Christ Almighty. He had never felt so good than buried like this in your warm, silky, divine cunt right now.

Once fully settled, you both sighs and breath loudly for just a few seconds, your gazes meeting and silently agreeing on how fucking delicious this feels. Then you move up, wanting to ride him, feeling his shaft pull out as you do, but his arms grab you tighter and put your hips back in place.

“God!” You whine as you feel his length plunging again and hitting that spot inside of you.

He starts to buck his hips up against yours, unable to resist anything anymore. His rhythm, he wanted slow and meaningful at first, is quickly turning fast and hard, a remnant of how incredibly frustrated and needy he had been all this time.

“I’m gonna -Ohh, shit- I’m gonna show ya what ya get teasin’ me like that.”

Arthur's southern drawl is even more prominent, his voice hoarse and deep from effort. His thrusts up are more and more powerful, making you jump up and down on top of him and for the first time in days he thanks himself for having pleasured himself so many times lately, otherwise he would have come instantly right there in your heat. Your breasts bounce in this erotic, unresistible dance that he’ll remember for every future night he'll spend alone.

“Oh Arthur, don’t stop!” 

His cock pulls out and shoves into your cunt so fastly it's rubbing perfectly how you want it deep inside and you reach for his shoulders, needing to hold onto him, already so close. “Yes, yes, yes, right there!”

He hears your accelerating breathing, your higher-pitched moans turning into screams and he searches for your lips with his. Your tender petals against his dirty mouth. But he doesn’t care, there’s only your pussy right now, and your incredible smell he’s filled with once again, just like you’re filled with his tongue and his dick inside of you.

Both his hands grab your ass and he fucks frantically, his balls slapping against it with each thrust, making your plump flesh jiggle and those hitting and smacking sounds resonating throughout the room. Again, and again, and Damn it again.

It’s too much for you. 

You cry out loudly as your fingers dig into his shoulders and your head tilts backward, and his big, solid arms keep you pressed against his chest, completely wrapped around you; and he finally, finally feels it. Pleasure, pleasure, pleasure, instead of pain. This irresistible release, your pussy clenching and squeezing all around his cock. “-Ngh, s-shit yes angel, give it t’me!”

You give it all to him without any resistance and in a obscene scream. And it’s too much for him.

“Ah, God…” He hisses as he feels it coming, quickly pulling you up —as effortlessly as if you weighed nothing— and pressing his cock against your clit, well nestled between your lips.

He reaches your lips again, needing to finish while kissing you, both of your bodies almost sewn together, his moans sounding more and more like primal growls and hisses at every rubbing movement against your core, movements getting faster and faster, impossibly faster, So fucking good, Jesus so goddamned perfect, Perfect, perfect!- Until he finally comes, translucent cum leaking all the way down his shaft and spreading on your lower belly, all panting and grunting, a complete mess; a satiated beast.

It’s better than any of the dreams he ever had, waking or sleeping. And it’s not just the release of this one and only time, it’s the pinnacle of all these lonely pleasures shared with no one in regretful secret.

For the second time that night, he thinks he’s dead. 

He falls backward, back against the mattress, and you follow, unable to stand without him. In that silence only disturbed by your exhausted breaths, he turns and grabs the first piece of clothing that he has at hand’s reach, his flannel. He gently uses it to clear your belly from his seed and seeing it, on your smooth and soft skin, makes a wave of culpability crash onto him once again. Shouldn't have done all of this. Should have taken care of her properly.

A dark, glum expression settles on his face and he wraps himself in a deep silence instead of your arms as he finishes to clean the both of you. God, did that man ever know rest for more than a few minutes? At this thought, you bend over to put a small kiss on his forehead, as a thank you for his aftercare.

“Satisfied enough?” You finally break the silence, getting up from the bed –not without stretching your back slightly and swaying your hips before bending to reach for your clothes on the floor.

Arthur cannot help but think of a Nymph as you do all of this still naked. Those irresistible, divine beauties that lure men with a simple move of their finger, as they say in books. He knew it was all stories from another time, but he was more and more convinced they would look exactly like you if they did exist.

“More than in a long time. You?” He replies, voice neutral and features closed as usual. He stays on the bed and put only his pants back, his cock finally softening under the coarse fabric. He never stops looking at you all the while.

“Couldn’t be better”. You assert, your blouse falling back on your upper body. You then roughly fix your hair in this casual, impish way that was yours.

That was driving him insane.

“You’re a little minx, ya know that? Gettin’ naked on purpose every night…”

“Oh, please. You didn’t really complain as far as I know.”

“Nah, but ya did make me insane. Teasin’ littl’ thing y’are.” He says with a fond voice he would have preferred less obvious.

You innocently shrug your shoulders, cheeky grin on your face. The way you're playing with him that easily should have been shaming to him, but he doesn't feel any shame anymore, not after what you have shared.

"Goodnight, Arthur." You throw as all answer, leaving him as you walk through the door of his room. He greets you back, the trimmest trace of longing in his rough voice.

Once again alone, once again cold, Arthur grabs a cigarette from his pocket to smoke before falling asleep; maybe to keep this lingering warmth just a bit longer, the sensations of your body, and especially your sex squeezing around his, still remaining on his skin. Lying completely in the bed, he smiles to himself as he notices you have forgotten your shawl —again. Or maybe you had left it on purpose. Maybe you had both times, now that he is thinking about it. The ruby fabric had landed wrapped all around his old, worn-out leather jacket, like a flame dancing around, enveloping, lapping at a tree.

It looks great that way.

Maybe you were only playing with him. Maybe this was only a one-time thing. But who cared? Tonight, Arthur had been taken care of by a Nymph. And no other mortal pleasure, no other solitaries delights, not even the most lustful and depraved images he could have pulled out of his tormented mind could ever compete with that slice of Olympe you had given to him.

a/n: Yeah, 5K words, I knooow! I'm hopeless. It's quite a lot, but I didn't feel like cutting, nothing felt right. What can I say except thank you, so much, for everyone's interest in the first part, for your notes, comments and reblogs, and for reading all of this! I am in utter PANIC rn because I feel like nothing I could write would be as good or as well received as the first part, but here it is! I really hope it didn't disappoint!

Also, to give Caesar what belongs to Caesar, the holster falling was completely inspired by my dear @zae-heeyyy's Piquancy (II)! I thought it would fit the comical aspect of the scene eheh (go check it out)

And also go check out this amazing piece Moons drew from this fic! Thanks again for this delightful treat! 💙

tag list: @a-court-of-valkyries, @redwritr, @cassietrn, @esquilone, @starlightt180, @narcoticv3nus, @thoughts-of-bear, @emjiroki, @prettyundeadgirl, @eternalsams @amyispxnk @babybatss-blog @ardeniaa @sauvignon-velvet @sweeterlilith (I tried to tag people who had shown interest in a part2, really sorry if I missed anyone!)

[teddybeartoji]

even though toji loves lazing at home with you, he does think it's very adorable how you like to drag him to the cutest little coffee shops you can find. he might let out a grumble or two but those are only so you can whine and pout at him. hand in hand, you tug him behind you while talking his ear off about how you found the place and what the menu is like and how good the reviews are and how pretty it looks and toji takes it all in with a grin on his face.

it's sappy, he knows, but he really can't help it. if you're happy, he's happy and if that means following you through the crowded streets every sunday then so be it. the sound of you humming at the first sip of the warm beverage and the sight of you smiling ever-so-brightly at the first bite of the sweet pastry that's in your hand is enough to get his heart racing. he's giddy, like some teenager who's on his first date ever – the gooey feeling floods his body, every nook and cranny. it never leaves. the rest of the world drowns out as he zones in on your face, mossy green eyes locking onto yours while resting his heavy head on his palm.

smitten.

you ask how his own drink is and all he can muster up is a hum but your smile widens at his response anyway. you're both glad to just be there with each other – no words needed. there's a slight flush on his cheeks and you can't really tell whether it's because of the warm air around you in this coffee shop or it's the hot drink.

it's neither.

obviously, it's because of you.

but it's also because of the small, little velvety box that's hiding in the depths of his right pocket, just waiting for the right time.

[b3achysurfer]

teenagers in media acting like real teenagers will always hold a special place in my heart

[ellie722]

just a little something about Sevi with an artist lover..

You’re too absored in the way your pencil scratches against the paper as you sketch Sevika,her sharp jaw as she leans her head to the side,the way her body curves against the small couch in an effort to fit in and her relaxed expression. She’s lazily lounging on the couch watching a shitty romcom she claims she put on just because,you really like it and she doesn’t really care what she watches as long as you’re together.In reality you have conditioned her into your way of living and it’s cute how much she’s enjoying it..

“You’re drawing again?” Her voice rings through your ears and this time when you lift your head up to observe her she’s staring right back at you. You crack a guilty smile as you avoid her stare. It’s not that Sevika is angry at you for drawing her or anything.. she’s just a little shy,because she’s smart enough to realise how much observations is put into sketches like this,studying the subject till you can replicate it,and the thought of you staring at her for minutes on end with that little frown between your eyebrows gets her a little self conscious.

“Could’ve told me y’know,would’ve picked a sexier pose or something.” She amused,trying to hide her awkwardness.

“You’re always sexy,Sev.” You close your sketchbook shut,setting everything down to jump right next to Sevika on the couch and show her the love she deserves.

[twilightakiishi]

—NIGHT LIGHT ⋆.˚ ☾

hanma is a childish grumpy baby when he’s been woken up. 0.5k wc ﾉ fluff ﾉ a little suggestive.

cw: no pronouns used, hanma calls reader doll and baby, brief mentions of a previous blowjob & free use.

“doll…” his low grumble comes from beside you as he shakes your shoulder a bit.

you barely glance in his direction as you scroll on your phone. “yes, shuji?” 

“turn the damn light off.”

“huh? there aren’t any lights on.”

he lays there with his eyes still shut a few seconds before he cracks one open and points out the window with a childish grunt. 

you stifle a laugh, “…that’s a street lamp.”

“…huh? for what? why is it on?” he’s clearly half asleep, and a little incoherent. you know you’re safe to giggle as much as you want when he’s like this. 

“so people can see.”

he pouts, throwing an arm over his eyes, “ugh, it’s like, 3am, nobody needs to see anything right now.”

“actually shu, it’s only midnight. and, if i hadn’t sucked you comatose, I’m sure you would be one of the hooligans out and about at this hour.” 

“….close the curtain, doll.”

“no. it’s like a night light, and–

he scoffs, “what do ya need a night light for? dontcha trust me to protect you?”

he wants to bite back and tell you that he doesn’t need a night light, not because he isn’t a little afraid of the dark, but because he feels so safe next to you.

“–and it helps me wake up in the morning when the sun comes through,” you deadpan.

another thing he won’t tell you is how he doesn’t need the sun that streams in through the window every morning; the sight of your sleeping figure beside him is enough. 

but it’s midnight, apparently, and he’s not feeling the type of tired where he can be vulnerable tonight, so he keeps that to himself, even though he desperately wants to know if you feel the same way.

“excuses, excuses,” he tsks. he turns his head toward you and lifts his arm from his eyes, barely cracking them open, “if you hate me just say that.”

“shuji, my dearest. i had your cock down my throat 20 minutes ago.”

he full on glares at you, or at least he attempts to; his sleepy, half lidded eyes betray him. you don’t miss the way the corner of his lips twitched up for a moment, though.

in the dim lighting of your bedroom, he paws around in search of your arm, and grabs you tightly when he finds it, causing you to gasp and drop your phone. with a confused yelp, you’re suddenly manhandled on top of him as he buries his head in your neck, muttering a muffled, “relax, baby.”

you sigh, “shuji, you’re insatiable.”

you feel a deep chuckle resonate against your throat, “c’mon, you told me you like being used, yeah? so be my sleep mask for a lil while...” you roll your eyes at him for using your words against you, and at the way his voice trails off as if he’s already falling back asleep. you can’t help but giggle at your needy god of death who whines when you aren’t touching him for even five minutes.

your personal guard dog, the grim reaper of kabukicho— his world would fall apart without you. 

he’s never told you that, but you feel it through his actions; through the longing in his touch. 

in the morning before he leaves for work, he gives you a tighter hug than usual, and the sweetest, softest kiss. in bed when he grabs at your hands, no matter what position he’s tangled the two of you in, he gently brushes his palm against yours before he squeezes. and now, as his breaths even out and you slowly attempt to shift yourself off him, his arms tighten around your waist with an annoyed huff. 

he feels protected by…well, whatever it is about you; he doesn’t know. it’s less like the way he looms over any poor soul that dares to glance at you a second too long, and more like your soul is the solace that his needed all this time. your presence grounds him in a way he hasn’t experienced before; it warms up his heart and makes him soft. it’s the reason he can’t bear to let go of you in the night, and clings to you as long as he can before he goes out into a life that doesn’t treat him with nearly as much warmth.

despite the headache that he is sometimes, he makes you smile. so you settle in on top of him, because he’s given you no other option than to be his anchor in a world where he can only see the light in your presence. 

[crimson-constellations]

atla modern au where suki & zuko are life guards for the summer and sokka just keeps drowning

[thy-lovelylionheart]

“I told you, Joyce has this telemarketer job. She’s always on the phone. Mike won’t stop whining about it.”

I know it’s been talked about before, how notable it is that, apparently, Mike won’t stop whining about the Byers’ phone line always being busy. But I think, more than just narratively, it’s very notable from a writing perspective.

Because who’s saying this? Dustin. Dustin, one of Will’s best friends. Dustin, who could have framed it as, “She’s always on the phone. I can never get through to talk to Will.” and no one in the audience would think twice. Or they could’ve written it where Dustin says, “She’s always on the phone,” and then Lucas is the one who adds, “Yeah, I can never get through to talk with Will.” and again, no one in the audience would bat an eye. Because it would be completely normal for either of those two to have tried to call Will.

Yet they specifically chose to write it so that not only is Mike the one we learn calls the Byers house frequently, but he also won’t stop complaining about it.

Oh, I love some intentionally well-placed bread crumbs<3

[xochimillilili]

Hey come here puppy, come here and sit on my lap honey, let me hold you~ That's my puppy, just lay on my chest, yes just like that my love, rest your pretty little puppy head and let all those thoughts fall out~

You've had quite a long day haven't you pup? Look at you, your eyes are all sleepy and pretty, your cute lil tired smile n frown, your hair all fluffed up from being so busy all day... it's alright my sweetheart, I've got you, I'm staying here with you all night

Let me help put your collar on baby, you're just a little puppy after all, you just focus on getting yourself comfy love~

We can do anything you like my precious pup, we can cuddle here in bed or I'll sit next to you while you're snug in your little doggie bed. I can run you a nice bath and try to rub and scrub all your worries away, even just for a bit honey. We can watch something you like, or I can tell you a story, we can nap or do some nice coloring while I brush your hair all soft

You're my precious darling little puppy love, my good puppy who I'm so sooo very proud of, I'll always want to hold and care for you after a long day, you're the one I love~