#I must find a way to watch all seasons somewhere else

[onna-musha-mari]

Ok so

I just found out Voltron is leaving Netflix

And that show being one of my comfort shows and the character Lotor being one of my closer f/o I’m actually really fucking upset

Like I’m just gonna go in a corner and cry for an hour

[monster-disaster]

[shadow monster] Monster at midnight

male!shadow monster x male!human!Reader Good to know: well, cheating and dubious/non-consensual, but not in a traumatizing way, I guess? mxm, oral

Summary: The new bed your wife got came with something else.

It all begins with your wife's newfound obsession with antique stores and online markets. What starts as a casual interest for her soon turns into a frequent activity for you, with mornings and afternoons spent in parking lots, waiting for strangers and whatever she bought from them through the internet. These transactions are mostly pleasant surprises—garden tools, books, and seasonal decorations that would cost much more in stores. They are harmless things, and you have no issue picking them up just to make your wife happy.

The situation takes a strange turn when she gets another bed. At first, there is nothing wrong with it. It is much bigger than your previous one, giving her and you enough space at night to sleep without kicking each other every few hours. It looks good, and it's comfortable.

So it's fine, right?

However, after a month, things start to feel off. You begin waking up at odd hours with an unsettling feeling of being watched or touched. Sometimes, you wake up drenched in sweat, feeling inexplicably hot and agitated. On other nights, you find yourself waking up aroused, ready to climax at any moment. This last detail you keep to yourself, driven by a strange instinct to remain silent about it.

When you finally bring up your concerns to your wife, she just laughs it off. "I don't know what you are talking about," she says. "I sleep like a baby." You hum in response, uncertain whether it is a good sign or something you should worry about. "Maybe you're overworked," she continues. "You're always so tired when you get back from work." You are tired because you can't sleep at night, but you keep this answer to yourself, partly because your wife's explanation sounds much more rational than the unsettling fantasies that have been plaguing you. Her suggestion that you're simply overworked and exhausted from your job is a comforting alternative to the bizarre thoughts swirling in your mind.

Yet, even with her reassurances, the nights don't get any easier. The feeling of being watched, the burning heat, and the unbidden arousal continue to haunt you. You toss and turn, trying to rationalize these experiences, but they persist stubbornly.

In the quiet, dark hours of the night, your thoughts wander, and you can't shake the growing sense of unease. There's an underlying tension, a feeling that something is not quite right. Despite the logical explanations you try to offer yourself, a part of you wonders if there's more to this new bed than meets the eye. The once-pleasant surprises from your wife's shopping sprees have now taken a turn, leaving you questioning what you've welcomed into your home.

- With an exhale through your chapped lips, you let your head fall back on the pillow, arms tucked beneath it. Your body melts against the mattress as your muscles relax and your eyes close, ready to fall asleep again despite the nagging feeling in the back of your mind.

It's nothing, you tell yourself. Your wife is right; it must be stress from work. Maybe you should take some time off. A few days of vacation would do some good for both you and the still-sleeping woman next to you. Go somewhere warm and sunny. No matter how much you love living in Grimbrook, the gloomy town can play tricks on one's mind if they're not careful.

Something nudges your leg, and you scowl into the darkness. Your wife's name rolls off your tongue in a low, barely audible grunt as you pull away from her, but the sensation remains around your calf. The hold reminds you of long, slender fingers with sharp nails grazing your skin. It's warm and heavy, and you have to shake your head to dispel your ridiculous thoughts.

A shiver runs down your spine, and you tell yourself it's just your imagination, fueled by exhaustion and stress. Yet, the feeling lingers, making your heart race. You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, but despite your efforts to rationalize, the sense of unease is undeniable. You glance at your wife sleeping peacefully beside you, and suddenly, a thought crosses your mind; what if your wife is right? And wrong? What if there is really nothing wrong with the bed, but stress has nothing to do with your problems? What if you are going insane?

What if…

But no. There is a hand on your calf, moving up and up until long nails graze the back of your thigh. Your heart leaps into your throat, and you jump as you struggle for what feels like an eternity to turn around and yank the blanket off your body in one frantic motion. The springs creak as your back hits the bed, but the sound is drowned by your pulse pounding in your ears.

And you need several, several seconds to believe your own eyes.

The darkness is thick and almost tangible in the bedroom. A strange, eerie fog rolls across the floor, curling around the furniture and casting shapes and shadows on the walls. They stretch and twist in ways they shouldn't do, and at the end of the bed, a creature kneels, barely distinguishable from the surrounding darkness. The monster is lean with a hunched posture. You can see the long, slender fingers tipped with sharp nails, the same ones that grazed your thigh moments ago. Multiple eyes glimmer faintly at you, reflecting what little light there is coming from the window. The monster's skin is so dark that it nearly blends into the blackness, a seamless extension of the night itself.

As your heart races and your breath comes in shallow gasps, you struggle to make sense of the sight. The monster's eyes, too many, seem to pierce through you, seeing into the deepest corners of your soul. You feel paralyzed, unable to move or look away. The weight of its gaze is heavy and oppressive on you.

For a moment, the world narrows to just you and the monster. The bedroom, the house, your sleeping wife next to you, and everything else fades into insignificance. It's as if time itself has stopped, trapping you in this moment. With him.

He is the one who breaks the stillness of the room, placing his large hands on your thighs just above your knees. His grip is strong, and his touch is cold yet surprisingly soothing. Your muscles twitch at the sudden feeling, and you brace yourself on your elbows, wanting to sit up but halting your attempt as you speak hurriedly. "Hey! Hey! Hey!" Your voice is still hoarse from sleep but filled with alertness and panic as you stare at the monster with wide eyes. He looks back at you with a calmness you certainly don't have. The creature’s multiple eyes glint in the dim light, each one reflecting an eerie curiosity. "Who… What are you?" you manage to stammer out. The monster tilts his head when he hears your question, the movement is seemingly innocent and almost graceful as his fingers flex around your legs, sending shivers up your spine.

The silence stretches, heavy and tense, until finally, you hear a sound that seems to resonate in the air and within your very bones.

It's… purring.

It's deep and reverberating. You can’t tear your gaze away from him, a strange mix of fear and fascination holding you captive. The purring grows louder, filling the room with a sound that is both comforting and lulling. The rhythmic vibration somehow keeps you grounded, preventing you from losing your mind entirely.

The fog that had enveloped the room now swirls lazily around the bed, as if it too is under the monster's spell.

But you don't get an answer.

Instead, his grip on you slips up and up and up, and before you can say anything, his hands are under the thin fabric of your loose underwear. Your lips fall open as your breath catches in your throat with a strange, strangled sound that bounces out of your heaving chest. Your first instinct says to grab him, but your body freezes before you can do something stupid. His long, sharp nails graze over your inner thighs, too close to your balls, and there is no way you are ready to risk it with a reckless move. Now, you have to be smart, but damn, your brain stopped functioning several seconds ago.

"Wait! Wait!" You gasp. "You shouldn't… It's not…" No matter how you try, the words don't want to roll off your tongue as you hobble for some coherent thoughts. The tips of his nails wake goosebumps on their way, making your tense muscles tremble at the feeling. While one part of your mind is frozen by panic, the other is intrigued. Despite his looks, the monster doesn't seem dangerous with his big eyes that stare at you with as much curiosity as you watch him.

When you don't say anything else, he moves again, punching a startled groan out of your chest. His long, slender fingers curl around your dick, holding it steadily and firmly. "No!" You wheeze, trying to pull away, but the movement makes him tug on your shaft, and you swear you can see stars for a moment. Your cock twitches, and you can feel your arousal building up in the base of your spine despite the absurdity of the situation.

The creature purrs again. The sound is short and excited as he lets you go only to tug on your underwear before you can catch your breath. Your cock juts out, half hard, while the waistband of your boxer stretches around your thighs and slips down off your legs as you struggle to reach it. The monster does nothing to help you, mostly because his attention is entirely elsewhere. "Look," you inhale. "We shouldn't…" Now that your cock is bobbing under his heavy, intense gaze, there is no way a flimsy fabric you use for sleep can be more interesting for him.

He shuffles forward a little, the bed dips under his weight as he finds his new place between your legs, forcing you to spread them open for him. Your lips open again to say something, but he takes hold of your cock, and again, your mind goes blank. The black monster with several eyes and no words tugs on your cock experimentally, stroking you into full erection as he explores your shaft from base to tip. Your hips buck upward automatically, and you groan at yourself. You shouldn't do this. You shouldn't enjoy this. And yet, when his thumb finds a vein at the underside of your cock, you can't stop the tingling feeling running through your body. His large palm feels warm and velvety as it rubs up and down on your erection. His fingertip ghosts over the edge of the crown of your cock, teasing the sensitive skin under it to the point you can't even breathe to say something. Your lungs burn for air, and your voice is barely audible when a wheeze escapes your lips. One glance at the monster hovering over your cock is enough to know his next step. And while your body aches for it, your mind still trying to hold onto the reality. "Don't!" Without even acting like he hears you, he leans in and licks a tentative path along your shaft, lingering at the tip and teasing the small hole there. His tongue is thick and long, you can feel every movement of the wet muscle on your throbbing cock. Your chest expands with a ragged inhale as you stare at him taking you into his mouth. He is warm and wet, and his long, long tongue wraps around you easily. "Fuck!" Your voice is loud and hoarse in the silence, mixing with the wet, suckling sound of the dark creature around your cock. Adjusting his grip at the base, he takes you deeper until you can feel his throat tightening and working around you.

The sight of the monster's fingers and long, sharp nails so close to your most sensitive area surges adrenaline through your veins while his lips rubbing up and down on your hard shaft softens the sharpness of your survival instincts.

The monster backs away, jerking you off with his hand much more easily now that your cock is soaked by the mix of your pre-cum and his saliva. His fist rubs up and down on you for long seconds while your hips rise and fall as you fuck into his hold, chasing your pleasure. Every rational thought is out of your mind, and you don't even fight for it anymore. Not when he dips his head back, letting his tongue circle on the tip of your cock, sliding lower and lower until you are in his mouth again.

The slurping sounds of his lips are loud as he drools down to your balls, using his free hand to play with them softly, carefully. Your groan is almost painful as your back arches away from the bed from the electric jolt that shoots through your body, making your muscles flex and spasm.

Your oxygen-deprived brain can't even fathom anything outside the thick, curling fog around you and the monster between your legs. Your toes and fingers go numb as they curl, and you grab onto the sheets under you. You tug on the fabric with every wave of pleasure washing over you, making your muscles twitch and turning your bones into liquid. Your shirt sticks to your body like a second skin from the thin layer of sweat covering you. You are all lost and ruined under the sensations. His drool dripping down to your balls is tickling and messy and so fucking good. And his tongue is long and wet, wrapping and massaging your erection all the way from the tip to the base.

It goes like this for a while, you wheeze and writhe while he sucks you deep down to his throat, and when you think you can't go higher, the creature starts to purr. The vibration tightening and fluttering around your cock makes you shout with a release. Before you know it, you spurt your cum into his mouth. He swallows down your load easily, and every gulp sends sparkles over your spine until it almost cracks under the pressure of your orgasm.

By the time your body goes limp, you are dead to the world. Your eyes fall shut when the darkness takes you so you don't see the monster retreating to his hiding place while the thick, rolling mist slowly disappears, leaving you and your wife on the bed as if nothing happened.

The next day, when your wife joins you in the kitchen while the scent of coffee lingers in the early morning air and you are more relaxed than ever before, you say nothing about your midnight visitor. When she asks how did you sleep, you reply with a smile behind the brim of your cup.

[theoxenfree]

DARK POOL

aquatic monster x reader | 2.8k

you're mystified by the strange noises coming from the basement. despite your uncle attempting to thwart your concerns, you make your way downstairs into the basement one night and come across an appalling sight, and soon enough, a blooming infatuation.

warnings; 18+, double penetration, explicit sexual details, imprisonment (not mc), some unsettling details, roughly proofread, repost from my old blog 2kmps.

this is a concept piece for a potentially long one-shot! pls answer the feedback questions at the end + reblog!! it really helps to develop a well-rounded story for y'all!

Uncle told you that the rats in Cape Tellis liked to swim and when they were in search of food, they didn't care how long they'd have to paddle through the water to find it. Some would simply drift with the current for days; black-gray fur rotted off, skin peeled off bone, little faces disfigured by sea and salt, but they would keep going until their bodies nudged the rust-red walls of the lighthouse and found the energy to scale upward to a window and squeeze inside.

He mentioned this anytime you had something to say about the ruckus down in the basement—sometimes scratching, sometimes powerful, erratic thuds that you felt pulse through the floorboards, through the rubber soles covering your feet, and into your skin. That place was sealed behind a rusted metal frame and door, deadbolted and locked with a key he always carried on a chain through a belt loop.

It always jangled when he walked because he had a limp so bad that his entire leg always dragged a pace behind him and took a great amount of effort to haul forward. When you had asked of it, as memory dictated a handful of years prior he didn't have such trouble, he first claimed it had been a bad sinus infection that got into his brain and disrupted something neurologically. In another instance where he had stopped for a third time on an evening stroll together, he had said he scuffed with one of Cape Tellis’ formidable rats and the mangy bastard had won and taken a chunk of meat out of him before scuttling back into the walls.

“Just ignore it, it's normal that they're active this time of year,” he was saying while scraping fried eggs out of a pan onto your plate. Meanwhile, you winced to the usual commotion downstairs. “They get real flighty this time of year. The rats do. They get frisky and chase each other all around. I don't know nothin' about them besides being persistent, ugly things, but it may well be their special season.”

You ripped a sharp edge in your toast and prodded the egg yolk until the sunny orb burst, oozing out across your plate before you could scoop it all up in the bread.

“How long does it take for the rats to go away?” you asked with some interest in his answer, if for no other reason to know what sort of yarn he'd spin next. The bread was buttered, the eggs unseasoned, but you ate it all anyway while watching him. “Are they permanent residents or do they come and go? You must be feeding them if they stay here.”

Uncle took a long time to situate his bad leg under the table, longer to arrange his silverware and the direction of his food. “Oh, they have no interest in leaving, I don't think. If they really wanted to, I imagine they would've jumped back into the water and swam somewhere else.”

Each time the noises rose up between the wood slats under your feet during breakfast, Uncle told you not to worry about it, but you quieted every sound in your head to better hear rattling metal, reverberations of some sort—like having a man’s deep, anguished moan pressed right against your ribs. You weren't sure what you were looking for when you listened, only that you knew they were rats.

Uncle looked at you, his appetite pushed away towards the center of the table with his plate. “Let's go for a walk, yes? The rain won't come back for a few hours.”

When you did walk after a meal, granduncle would often have to lie down with his dead leg propped up on a short stack of pillows for a long while. It became something of a habit of yours to exert him too much after dinner, forcing him to keep up with your youthfulness—your merry prances and unburdened soul.

For what it was worth, he did the best he could to never be a hindrance. He didn't seem to fully understand his own limitations either, making it quite a simple thing to steal the key from his belt loop while he slept—deep and silent, so much so that you needed to drop a tissue over his face from make sure he was still breathing—and unfasten the lock to descend a set of slick, stone stairs.

There wasn’t much to at the bottom; a space half-flooded from seasonal rains raising the sea-level, old pieces of ship equipment hanging like ornamentation, an old folding chair that had yet to rust despite damp air, and a large hole in the ground that was dark like the throat of a nightmare envisioned in the most precious hours of night.

You held a plate of raw meat, freshly thawed from the freezer, outstretched with a flickering lantern in your other hand. Anywhere else, you'd have just brung a flashlight—but, he didn't like the bright lights, had ripped the last one out of your hands and smashed it against the wall. Oil lanterns were better tolerated, but he still seemed to cower from the gentle flickers.

So, you placed the meat on the seat of the folding chair and walked closer to the hole, wading a hand through seawater until touching braids of cold metal, chains pulled taut as though weighted down by an anchor. You gave the closest one a tug, always with the same caution as a child gripping his mother's clothes in uncertain times, and backed away.

He never made noise when he surfaced, always frightfully quiet, only indicated by a trail of bubbles that followed after where he roamed underwater. The first thing to emerge was a dorsal fin flared proudly from the middle of his head until midway in the deepest curve of his back. His eyes were on you, abysmal black things with a luster you likened to a landbound fish, and skin and scales that moved stiffly with his facial movements.

“You,” said the creature, toneless and in a voice far too raspy and deep to have an equal match amongst human men. “You have come. You are here.”

Months ago, he hadn't been capable of simple speech such as this. The noises he made were incompatible to anything you had ever heard—perhaps mere vocalizations he utilized underwater, possibly something long gone and archaic—but he had started mimicking you when you'd speak, and eventually you started slowing down, giving him the time to feel how the sounds vibrated in his own throat.

“I brought you food, again.” You gestured towards the seat with raw meat with your lantern, prompting his passing glance of interest before he was back on you. “Not hungry? He usually doesn’t feed you that well. I haven't been down here in a week or so, so I figured you'd be ready to scarf it down.”

“No.”

He came closer and the size of him grew, a towering figure with strong, broad-shoulders and a chest built to withstand the friction of the sea he used to own. His face, although hidden in darkness and flickering shadow cast from your lantern, gleamed as the light struck his iridescent scales. The shape of his lips were human-like yet taut, helping to comfortably fit his sharp teeth inside his mouth.

You'd wondered at times what exactly he was, what your granduncle believed him to be and feared so much to hide him away, chained to a wall. You fantasized that he could be the lost prince of some underwater civilization, or the offspring of several thousands of years of evolution between humans and something else.

He never seemed to understand you when you asked him what he was.

“Come,” his reach was limited by the chains that bound his limbs, keeping him shy of touching your body. “Come to me.”

With the lantern set aside, a distance you hoped wouldn't turn him petulant, you walked in his arms and the shackles and made home there as he surrounded you. His embrace was not the sort you could escape, nor was the kiss he pressed against your mouth.

There were parts of him you were too scared to touch, where his scales were like serrated teeth and he had much less control to retract at will like the dorsal find along his back. His lips were smooth and cold, however, a safe place for you to be on his body along with the hard flesh on his chest.

He pushed himself into your touch as your fingertips traced the shape of his torso, rose with the sprawl of his breasts and shoulders, molded into the ridges of his lower abdomen that you felt pulse and tense the further downward you roamed.

The sheath around his groin had swelled significantly and seemed to twitch when you smoothed your hand across it, kneading it gently to see what would come of doing so. You'd seen this only once before several months ago, a time where you'd been more frightened of him and fled from the basement for weeks when he'd acted more aggressive than usual.

It was one of the many things he had taken notice of that were perceived negatively—with fear and distance and shutting him away in this deep dark until you found the courage to feed him again, because your uncle was petrified along with being restricted in his ability to navigate the stairs with his lame leg.

So, he had learned to behave at the worst of times to keep food supplied, for you to stay wrapped up in him like this and so curious to challenge the extent of his self-restraint.

His kiss had grown full-bodied and restless and gone elsewhere on your body to a great expanse of skin. His face nuzzled into the fabric hiding your warmth from him, teeth tearing and fraying the threads that kept your clothes together until you stopped him.

“Stop—wait, wait, wait.” You walked back out of his arms once he was able to recognize the words. He reached for you despite the clattering bonds around his wrist, but you took your time to shuck the clothes from your body and fold them.

Once he had you back, he led you to the edge of the pool of endless depths and sank down inside of it. Your toes touched the very edge of darkness, stirring a rabble of butterflies in your gut that did not dissipate even once he resurfaced.

"Sit.” He gestured right at where you stood. “Sit down.”

The idea of having any part of your body submerged in the black water left you with little desire in continuing this, but you obeyed and slowly lowered your rear to the rim of the pool, legs speckled by goose pimples as the cold water gripped up to the inside of your thighs.

“Yes, good.” He was close enough to push your thighs wide apart and stick his tongue inside of you. You took in a great sucking breath, startled from the suddenness of it and the long, articulate appendage massaging a part of you in a way no one ever had before.

You leaned back on your arms when they weakened and shook from the sensations, eyes flicking towards the drab ceiling, wondering just how far under the living quarters of the lighthouse you actually were and whether granduncle would hear any lewd sounds that were beginning to hum in your throat.

“Keep going.” He said when you moaned, tongue retracted from your body to mimic the ministrations you made with your hand and fingers while you stroked yourself. “Keep doing it.”

He nudged your hand away to put his mouth over that stimulated spot instead, sucking and licking along you with such fervor that you dissolved into hard pants and whimpers, tempted to close your thighs around his head and push him away as the tight warmth inside of you flushed out with a kaleidoscopic burst of color and cool air following the trail of something slowly oozing out of you.

It took a second orgasm and chanting turned to cries to get him off of you. That brief respite ended when he took you by the waist and dragged you into the pool with him. By that point, you were too far spent to have anything but unshakeable indifference to the depths and the cold.

His kiss was as it had been before, rough and restless, forceful in a way that left you malleable and melting against him. Even when he had your front wedged between the rim of the pool and his chest, you couldn't bring yourself to react much.

You felt his thighs mold to the back of yours before the slim tip of his cock pushed into you, the girth of it thickening considerably at the base. The friction of the water wasn't an obstacle for him to fuck into you with greedy thrusts that threw your hips forward, knocking skin and bone against the wall of the pool.

“Oh, oh, oh, oh—” the ridges of his cock were an unusual feeling, catching your walls in spots, spreading you wider when he'd withdraw part way and plunge back inside. “Oh, shit—feels good. Harder. Harder. Harder!”

There was truly never any way to know how much he understood when you said it, something called into question when his thrusts slowed to a stop, but he stayed hard inside of you. For a moment, the water settled along with your heavy breaths and blood gushing through your ears.

Things slowly came back into focus—the dancing lantern light, the room temperature meat, the wicked water in which you were immersed to the waist while the rest of you was braced by him.

He shifted behind you, adjusting his thighs so yours went even wider. Before you could ask the things you wanted to, a new sensation stole your breath—the swollen head of a second cock, different in shape and size from the first, pushed into you and lay flush atop the other.

“Don't—don’t move.” You were struggling to do the same thing with such an enormous stretch you'd never had to accommodate before. Tension built in your throat, whether a sob or a scream or your own anxiety, and stayed there to cinch your voice into silence.

He soothed you with lips and teeth all over your flesh; the back of your neck, the cartilage of your ears and the underside of your jawbone. His large hands left the shelf of your hips and felt along your front side, nipples, chest, stomach, and groin where he tried to recreate the same pleasure on you now as you had done for yourself earlier.

“Good?” He nested his cocks deeper when he heard you moan. The pain of it was beginning to subside, but the strangeness of it remained. “Is it good?”

“Just—just don't hurt me.”

His hands were back on your hips to keep you seated on his thighs while he thrust into you. It wasn't as easy for him to move as it was before, perhaps realizing the limitations of a human companion, but continued in snappy pulses that made the water lap at the skin on your back and turned your thoughts into senseless, garbled things.

Soon enough, you were riding a sloppy, savage rhythm to which you had no control of whatsoever as he chased his end. In moments where he seemed to regress into a natural state, almost animalistic in the way he rutted into you and buried his cocks, one would slip out and go forgotten for a time. The length of it glided against your groin, a smooth motion underwater that prodded your sore spots before he was able to fit it back into place with the other.

Amid your luscious sounds were those of his own; labored, air-sucking rasps that rumbled from places more than just his throat. They were probably never meant to be heard above the surface of water, just as he didn't belong fucking a human while being chained to a wall.

You thought about that fact while the last thrusts he took seated his cocks so deep that you ached, hard surges of warmth flooding your insides in a way unexpectedly delightful. He clung to you with his arms and shackles even well after he had emptied himself in your body and retracted both cocks into their sheath.

After a while, he hoisted you out of the water and followed you to retrieve your clothes. He stopped short of the chains pulling in the wall, watching while you wiped away the remnants of him oozing down the backs of your thighs and redressed.

“Don't go.” He kissed you and let his cold lips linger over yours. “Stay here.”

You returned the affection as endlessly as he gave it, only thinking that sunrise would soon come to pull you apart.

a/n: so, this idea has unfortunately never been able to fully develop from a lack of ideas. with starting this new blog, I'm hoping to get enough interest and feedback to actually commit to this and bring a completed project eventually!!

are you satisfied with how the aquatic monster was written in this piece? what would you be interested in having added/taken away? what do you think could be improved upon/expanded? is there anything you're particularly curious about?

what sort of setting would you like to see this story take place? 19th century, the 90s, or modern e.g. 2010+? are you satisfied with the setting being in cape tellis? a location inspired by lighthouse coastlines with predominately dreary/cool/wet weather? if not, what type of setting would you prefer to see?

in terms of the storyline, are you more interested in seeing: 1) a relative goes missing, so you arrive at the lighthouse he owned to solve the mystery 2) mc being an underwater mechanic to fix a damaged dam 3) mc being part of a small group trying to capture proof of a "creature" lurking around cape tellis. 4) something else???

[lightwing-s]

𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐑

pairing: dick grayson x fem! reader

summary: as an intern at the police department you should know how to separate work from personal life, but when officer dreamy comes after you, you can't help it but mix them together

rating: 18+ (MDNI)

word count: 6,2k warnings: unprotected sex, cum eating, handjob (f receiving), slight overstimulation, a lot of pinning for each other

a/n: i gave up proof reading halfway because i was sleepy, so it might be okay at first and then become messy. sorta base on my experience working at a police precinct earlier this year, but not faithful (at all) to reality.

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

⌜masterlist⌟ ⌜requests⌟

Jumping off the last step down the bus, you rush into the streets, swerving through the crowds, bumping against people, getting sworn at by some, and somehow managing your way through the busy mess that was Gotham’s early mornings.

The headphones glued to your ear were the only thing trying to distract you from all the chaos that was the start of your day, but as the shuffle merged bossa nova into 2000s punk rock, you felt your body react and jump into a faster pace on your way to work. Within each step, the Greek columns of the old imposing building of the Gotham City’s Police Department grew bigger in the horizon, letting you know your commute was close to its end.

Beep beep, your watch announced the start of your shift. Damn it, you were late again. Trying to speed up your steps, you felt your calves start to burn, but the building soon was right in front of you, a couple of steps separating you both.

“Good morning, Yn.” greeted one of the officers, as you passed by him in a rush, as you made your way up the large steps without somehow managing to trip as he was bound somewhere else, already deep into the rash routine of being a police officer at the country’s most dangerous city.

Bursting through the doors, you look around to see if your supervisor, officer McCaffrey, was anywhere near. He hated you and had been on your ass since you started arriving a bit later than you were supposed to, a move further away from the precinct ruining your commute times.

Not seeing his growing bald head anywhere around, you jump ahead and find your way to your desk, stacked with piles and piles of papers, old cases handed to you to be typed and launched into this new software funded by Mr. Bruce Wayne.

Interning at a police station wasn’t exactly a part of your meticulously drawn up plan to get into law school, as law enforcement was on the far bottom of your list of possible careers to choose for your future. However, from day one you were surprised by how much you enjoyed working at the department, by how much you enjoyed the people, both your co-workers and, weirdly, the criminals you got to meet on a daily basis. 

Sometimes it was too much, juggling school work and the internship, plus all the side hustles you had to take just to make it through college without starving to death. But it all had its good sides. Sometimes, some really good ones.

Placing your bag over the pile of cases, you were about to go around your desk and sit down on the rather uncomfortable chair to start typing those damned cases away, when the rough voice of the main antagonist of this current season of your life reached your ears. 

“Miss, Ys,” your supervisor called. Rolling your eyes, you forced yourself to remain still, a lot of effort put into not throwing your head back in defeat as you turned around to meet face of your tormentor for the first time that day. “Thought you started your program at…” he dragged himself out, looking at his clock. “Exactly fifteen minutes ago.”

“Hello, officer McCaffrey.” you forced out a smile while greeting him. “Well, I was here fifteen minutes ago, you must have missed me.”

You confidently tried to lie, hoping the time spent with suspected criminals had taught you something, but being sure your face must have told him the opposite of what you meant. “I’m pretty sure I looked all over for you.”

“Are you sure?” you feigned innocence when trying once more.

“Miss Yn, this is a serious institution and if you’re not going to cooperate by doing your job properly I’m sorry to inform you that…” 

“You won’t need it, Christian.” a deeper voice cut your supervisor off as he started to scold you again. The voice, a tone you could easily identify from how much you’d heard it and dreamed of it in the past few months. “I stopped Miss Yn outside for a talk. I did not think there would be any problem.”

Sounding much more confident in his lie than you did, you were sure you could’ve fallen for it if it wasn’t of you he was talking about.

“Officer Grayson, Miss Ys has got a job to finish, she doesn’t need to go around having conversations with what I imagine are busy policemen.” officer Tormentor replied, not even caring to turn around and face the other voice’s owner, disdain covering each and everyone of his words.

“We were just discussing a case, it’s not that big of a deal. Right, Yn?” Officer Grayson called you by your first name along with a wink, the remaining energy left from not rolling your eyes at officer McCaffrey earlier keeping you from melting at how sweet your name sounded coming out of his mouth. 

McCaffrey finally turned to face your white night in a white button-up, only his back in your line of view now as you were still paralyzed in your spot, the image of Officer Grayson trapping your attention from anything else in the precinct.

“Dick,” your supervisor continued, the name sounding off of him like an annoyance. ”You’re not supposed to share confidential information with the students.” He told him bitterly.

“Aren’t they here to learn about our job, Christian?” Officer Grayson replied, the same annoyance playing on his tongue, but at the same time full of an uplifting fun only Dick Grayson could master and that you were sure only annoyed Christian more.

Facing the sudden silence between you three, you noticed Officer Grayson’s eyebrow raising, challenging his fellow officer to complain about you one more time.

“Sure, but…”

“I was doing just that, making sure Yn’s internship actually brings some value to her future.” Grayson cut him once more. “No sensitive information was shared, just the look of an investigation through a detective’s eye. And even so, miss Yn is one of the most competent interns we’ve had in a while and I’m sure she would’ve been able to keep any information she might’ve gotten. I’m sure talking with actual officers is much more beneficial than typing old cases into a system.”

Silence overcame you three again, Grayson’s words having a certain impact on you. Your shoes, stained and in desperate need of a wash, suddenly became interesting as you lowered your face to hide the burning red on your cheeks. The insides of your lips were chewed on, stopping the smile from spreading on your face.

Finally looking up, your eyes briefly met Officer Grayson’s, but you moved away quickly, afraid of what they might’ve done to you. 

Officer McCaffrey opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, his mind certainly trying to muster a comeback to Grayson’s defense of you but clearly failing to do so. His eyes moved from you to his coworker, and you wondered what was going through his head.

Whatever it was, it would never live up to Officer Dick Grayson. He just never would.

“Very well,” McCaffrey finally spoke, turning to face you with a displeased expression. “Get on with your typing.”

Turning on his heel, McCaffrey walked away from the two of you, the hardness of his hips making his walk look funny and with the bald spot growing in his head the both of you let out a soft chuckle.

Resting your butt on the desk behind you, the need of formality gone with your supervisor, you took this time to eye up the man left with you. 

That man didn’t have a bad looking day, showing up like a greek god every single day at work. He wore his usual white button-up shirt, rolled up to his elbows and exposing his thick forearms, built effortlessly at the gym - you were sure -, and decorated with veins you secretly wanted to map with your fingertips. 

He wore gray pants today, a color he often varied with either dark blue, black or beige, but the latter, thankfully, becoming rarer with each passing day. It didn’t compliment him, making his look rather boring in your opinion, nor did it match well with any of his shoes, probably more expensive than anything you owned. 

His badge and gun hang on his hips, held on the black belt made of the most sophisticated leather in the world, or so you’d bet. He seemed to take good care of himself, as not only his skin glistened like a glazed donut, but he exuded a strong woody smell, following him along to every room he entered.

However, the lack of a tie and the untidy hair signaled to you he might’ve been just as late as you were. And still, he looked majestic. The highlight of your long hours at the precinct.

“Hello, officer Grayson.” you greeted him shyly. You certainly should not have spent too much of your days simply just watching him go on about his work, but it was a habit you had created and that was hard not to do, his simple presence was enough to overwhelm you.

“Good morning, Yn. Haven’t had an easy morning, I see?” he raised his eyebrow at you this time, a playful smiling playing on his face. 

“You too, right?” slipped out of your mouth quicker than you’d wished, almost slapping your face out of sheer frustration.

His head bent to the side, a question forming on his eyes, eyebrows furrowed, but soon returning to the playful expression you were used to. “I see your detective skills have been improving.”

“I-I just noticed you’re not wearing a t-tie like you usually do and your hair seems messy, that’s all.” you said without pausing for air and his smile only seemed to grow.

“Relax, Yn,” he dragged out. “I just had to stay up till late last night. What’s your excuse?”

“Commuting has been hell. I just moved to a new apartment.” you told him, nodding for absolutely no reason. He didn’t seem pleased with your answer, eagerly waiting for you to continue. “At the Amusement Mile.”

“Amusement Mile?!” he exclaimed. “That’s basically on the other side of the city.”

Yep, you worded, or not. You were not sure.

“And really dangerous, Yn.” he sounded worried. “Make sure to not leave too late, okay?”

“I’ll try.” you replied, but he still didn’t seem pleased. “I promise?”

You were not sure what kind of tone this conversation had. You and Officer Grayson had always been friendly, as he always came by your desk to wish you a good day or night, to bring you coffee as he did with his coworkers, or to ask you about how classes were going and if the internship wasn’t getting in the way of your studies.

It all sounded friendly to you, as if he only saw you as a younger sister or something like that. Sadly to you, that seemed to be a reality. But today, the friendliness sounded less friendly, for some reason, or maybe they were just the voices of hope playing with your mind.

“Good, I’ll have to work now, and I think so do you. Having fun with typing?”

“It really could be worse.” You joked, bringing out a laugh from him, filling your ears and making your heart pump faster.

“Have a nice day, Yn.” 

“You too, officer.” you eagerly replied, watching as he too walked away from you.

Finally sitting down on your chair, you let out a huge sigh, Officer Dreamy, as you kindly nicknamed him to yourself, stuck in your head. You knew it was inappropriate to harvest a crush on a superior at work, but gosh was it hard to.

“And Yn?” his voice startled you. 

“Hmm” you managed to hum as you found his head poking out from behind a wall.

“Call me Dick.”

Lights went off one by one around you, as you still sat on your desk, files of cases long forgotten, while you typed in a class project you were due very soon. 

As life worked conspired to put you down, your laptop had given up on you, deciding that the smokey life was the way to go now and simply choosing not to work ever again. So, you had to stick around the precinct or the library till the wee hours of the night if you wanted to get any uni work done.

“Yn” a voice called you, starling you out of your seat. “Still here?”

Officer Grayson, looking as tired as you must have looked, made his way to your desk. In his hands, some papers you’d come to know were cases he took frequently to study at home.

“I have to finish an essay.” you informed, voice almost not making it out, as you had neglected your health and hadn’t gotten a single sip of water all day.

“What happened to your computer? I remember you bringing one before.”

“Decided to give out smoke signals, I guess.” you joked, managing to steal a smile from him. “It broke, and I’m too broke to fix it, so I have to stay here if I want to finish this essay tonight.”

Your eyes itched from the extensive exposure to the computer lights, your back also causing you discomfort. But you still had work to do, so there was no way you were leaving any time soon, and quickly you returned your attention to your essay ignoring, for once, your favorite male presence in the precinct as you didn’t want to miss the peak of energy and creativity you had gotten to.

As you typed unaware of his lingering presence, Officer Grayson stood by your desk for a while, watching as you swiftly typed word after word of your homework. “You aren’t going to stay here till too late, right?”

“I’m not sure.” you moaned, rubbing your eyes with the palm of your hands. “I really have to finish this but I’m not even close.”

Returning your gaze to him, you found his eyes and they bore into your, making your breath get caught up in your throat and your heart to skip a beat. You wanted to focus on your school work and go home, get some much needed sleep before starting your routine all over again, but Dick’s mere presence  pushed away all your academic thoughts.

It was like his body irradiated an energy, a gravity field, that pulled you in from wherever you were. That trapped your attention, leaving you breathless even though you hadn’t run, leaving your head heavy as the most painful headache, leaving you completely, deeply, under his spell.

As you focused on him, you noticed the bags forming under his eyes and his much messier hair, as if he had, and he did, spent hours running his fingers through it as an attempt to concentrate. His clothes were ruffled, and you swore his belt seemed to have been loosed at some point during the day. 

To you, he was like a painting at an art gallery. Exquisite, expensive, beautifully breathtaking… and forever unreachable.

On a scale from one to ten, you were minus forty in the levels of importance inside the department. Nobody really cared for the interns. They were nice and all, but they knew they wouldn’t last long, so why bother connecting, why bother giving them too much attention. And yet, officer Grayson would come over to you, every single day, saying his “his” and “goodbyes”, wishing you a good morning, a good night, a great weekend.

He was truly a being out of this world. A gentleman amongst mere humans, too kind, too sweet for this world, for this city. You often wondered how the hell did he, the son of a billionaire, end up working with the police, and the answered you always came up with was that he must have been the only truly good and altruistic person alive, opting to care for the people instead of being a pretentious heir like many others.

If he had looked over at your computer screen, he’d have found a soup of words that together made zero sense, as your mind couldn’t only write Dick Dick Dick Dick, in both meanings of the word.

“A-hem.” he coughed breaking your awkward stare competition. “I have to get going, Yn. Please don’t stay up too late, and message me when you get home.”

“I don’t have your number.” you mindlessly blurted out.

“I have yours,” he stated, catching you off guard. “I’ll text you. See you tomorrow?” he asked, seeming actually interested in a positive answer.

“Uh-huh.”

“See you, then. Goodbye, Miss Ys.”

“Goodbye, officer.”

It was past midnight when you eventually turned off your computer and headed out of the police department. Sleepiness weighs your body down, making each step a harder task than it should've been.

Saying your goodbyes to the officers working the night shift, many of those telling you to be careful as they feared the dangerous Gotham nights would turn you into one more of its victims, you made your way down the large set of steps, an activity much easier than climbing them in the morning.

As you step into the sidewalk you’re embraced by the darkness. The cold breeze hitting you, making you wrap your jacket tightly around your body, a shield from the freezing weather and the demons of the night. Your bag is glued to your hips and your eyes scanning the area for any strange movement.

You’re glad some of those police officers had been kind enough to teach you how to realize some signs before anything bad happens, applying it to your everyday life as you could never be sure of your surroundings in this city.

When you turned right on the first corner, a moving shadow had your neck hairs up and a shiver running up your spine. Your fight or flight instincts overcoming you as your steps grew faster and faster.

“Yn, wait!” you heard the shadow owner scream, your heart skipping a beat before your mind could make up the situation. It took you a while to figure out who the scream belonged to, the fear blinding your senses and preventing you from forming any type of judgment, but something in you clicked and upon turning around it everything was all made clear.

“Officer Grayson?” you questioned, confused by his appearance as he had gone home almost two hours earlier. He now wore a pair of dark gray or black sweatpants, the faint light hindering your perception, a black t-shirt and a thick overall to shield him from the cold. The tips of his hair dripped with a few droplets of water, and even in the darkness you could make up his red nose gifted by the freezing weather. 

He looked cozy, huggable, like a plushie pillow you hugged to go to bed. This look on him made your chest warm up and you swore you wouldn’t need a jacket soon.

“Why are you following me? Why are you here?”

“I’m sorry if I scared you, Yn. I thought it’d be better if I didn’t scream, but maybe I was wrong,” he apologized, rushing the words out of his mouth.

“I just didn’t expect to see you here.” you smiled, unable to hide the joy from seeing him again. Your smile made him feel less bad for scaring you, but his eyes still looked into yours like he apologized for it. 

“I didn’t get your text.” he said, his statement confusing you a little. “That you were going home?”

Oh, that! It was your turn to feel bad, your cheeks, if possible for him to see, painted red but not from the coldness.

“I was expecting your text and didn’t get it, so I showered and came here to see if you’d gone home and I found you still in your computer. I was waiting for you to come out.”

YOU WERE WAITING FOR ME?!, you wanted to scream, his words making your head spin, trying to work out the reason why they came out of his pretty lips. The idea of him waiting for god knows how long till you finished your essay making you dizzy.

“It didn’t feel right letting you go home alone at this hour.” he continued to explain, seemingly aware of the questions inside your head. “So I came back after taking a shower to pick you up.”

HE CAME BACK. HE WENT HOME. TOOK A SHOWER, A SHOWER HE PROBABLY, DEFINITELY, TOOK NAKED. AND CAME BACK TO PICK ME UP????

Oh lord, your head was truly spinning and you hoped you weren’t dizzy enough to end up falling and making a fool of yourself. No single sentence was merged in your mind, your lips blurting out whatever overcame them without any filter: “The subway isn’t empty.”

He chuckled at your silly response and reaching for his coat’s pocket, he picked up his car keys, shaking them in front of your eyes. “Are you declining a ride home? Thought you’d love to ride in a Porsche tonight.”

At the sound of “Porsche”, you let out an excited giggle. You always wanted to find out what car Dick drove, a man’s choice of vehicle being a way into understanding his lifestyle and tastes, and not only were you finding out now but you were also getting to ride in it with him.

“I think it’s an offer I can’t really let pass.”

Showing you the way to his car with his head, he let you walk past him, and when you did his hand met your waist as he guided you in its direction. 

It was like you entered into another reality when you crossed the Police Department’s doors, meeting an Officer Dick Grayson that you always dreamed of but never expected to become a reality.

The warm touch of his hand on the small of your back gave you shivers along with a sense of safety not even a room full of police officers had given you. It was different, somehow, in a way you found hard to explain, but that made your heart beat nervously, your breathing to get hectic and your stomach to take turns.

Soon, the silvery car was beside you and the man opened the passenger door for you with his free hand. You thanked him and slid inside the car, the warmed leather seats a comfortable welcome after hours spent on the painful cheap chair by your desk, and when he closed the door you took the few seconds until he was sat beside you to at least try to recollect yourself.

Richard John Grayson isn’t just giving you a ride, he came all the way from his home to do so. You didn’t know where he lives, but it couldn’t be too close. He went out of his way to do that for you, and what that meant frightened you a little.

The warmness of the seats couldn’t compare to what his touch had made you feel. As his hand slid off of your skin you let out a low moan you hoped he didn’t have the time to listen to, already missing the feeling he had given you.

It made you both afraid, nervous and excited, and you couldn’t help the smile from spreading on your lips, even when biting down on them or chewing the insides of your cheeks. You sat still, spine straight and hands resting on top of your bag laid up on your lap, while he calmly walked to the driver’s side, the opposite reflection of how he made you feel.

“Amusement Mile?” he looked at you for confirmation, the engine of the car warming up. Your eyes were glued to his every movement, admiring every single breath he took.

You simply shook your head to answer, biting on your bottom lip in contemplation.

“It’s gonna be a long ride, so make yourself comfortable.” he told you before continuing. “And I almost forgot…”

Reaching for something behind your seat, you felt his breath on your neck, sending more shiver up your spine, a recurring thing tonight. “I got you some soup. To warm up.”

“Wow. Thank you, officer.”

“Yn?” he called you and you hummed, letting him continue. “What did I tell you to call me?”

“I’m sorry.” you apologized, remembering the moment you’d shared earlier. “Thank you, Dick.”

“Perfect.” 

Turned just enough to face you, it was his time to bite on his lip, the sight sending your hormones to overdrive. 

The ride was mostly silent, as you both felt comfortable in just each other’s presence. You drank your soup and he drove carefully to not make it spill. He left his playlist on shuffle and you commented on a few surprising tunes.

“I didn’t take you for a reggaeton kind of guy.”

“Hey, I appreciate the sounds of many different cultures!”

 And faster than you had wished for, you two were parked by your front door.

“Thank you, offic… Dick, really. I would have taken at least double the time to arrive by subway, so I really cannot thank you enough for this, you really didn’t have to.”

“Nonsense, I’m always here to help, and I wouldn’t sleep well knowing you could be in danger.”

For the 1000th time tonight, your cheeks grew scarlet and you avoided Dick’s eyes. The yawn coming out of you the perfect getaway from the situation you didn’t not know how to handle.

“I better get going, or else I’m just gonna take a nap before having to go back to the precinct all over again.” you sent him a smile before opening the door, but before you stepped outside you felt his hand touch you again, this time reaching for you tight.

“If you want to, I can pick you up tomorrow morning.” his thumb lightly drew patterns in your jeans, and you could feel a hit of sweat on the palm of his hands and the spot on your tight grew humid.

“It would be asking for too much.”

“No it wouldn’t.” he didn’t wait for you to finish. “I’d love to.”

He had your full attention, his eyes trapping yours in a drunken haze. The air around you got thicker, warmer, too hot, as if the winter night was just a mere illusion outside the car. You had sat back in your seat, not sure if the door was open or closed because only him mattered now, only his eyes drifting from yours to your lips, only his tongue moistening his own, only the slow movement of his head getting closer to yours.

You wouldn’t remember the next few seconds even if described to you in the smallest details, you just remember meeting his lips halfway. At first, a hasty kiss, your lips barely moving but already igniting you with an electric feeling. His teeth pulled on your bottom lip, causing a moan to escape off of you.

His hand went to your neck and the kiss deepened, his tongue immediately sliding inside your mouth, playing with yours as your hands found his waist in search for balance, even though you remained at your seat.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” you cut the kiss, your own mind betraying you with the words that flew out of your mouth. “But I really want to.”

“I don’t see why we shouldn't,” he said, connecting your lips once again. 

He sucked and nibbled at your lips, certainly leaving small bruises on it, but who were you to complain. All night, your anxiousness tried to get the best of you, but his kiss and his touch held you hostage in a passionate haze.

“It’s dangerous to be on the streets this late.” he told you between kisses.

“We can go upstairs.” you offered, wanting to extend the moment as much as you could.

“I wouldn’t wanna bother your roommate.”

“I don’t have a roommate.” you informed, eyes meeting his once more in search of confirmation.

Kissing where your neck met your ears, he whispered. “I’ll park the car.”

“You can leave it right here.” you moaned, desperately wanting to move things inside. He chuckled, pulled you in for another kiss and then quickly jumped out of the car. He followed you as you climbed the stairs to your floor, managing to control himself and stay far enough as to not throw you against the walls and fuck you right then and there, but the gentleman inside of him held him together and he anxiously watched you unlock your apartment door.

You threw your bag somewhere, and walked inside your home aimlessly. You didn’t bring many guys over, so you always struggled to figure out what to do at this point.

“Yn.” you heard Dick calling, spinning on your heels to meet him. 

Throwing his key on a table, he came over to you without wasting time, hands grabbing your face and smashing your lips together for a hotter, wetter, dirtier kiss.

His tongue sucked you yours as your hands traveled on his chiseled torso, sliding inside his shirt for the full experience. You scratch the skin with your nails and he quivered under your touch. “Fuck.” he let out, pushing you against the head of the sofa.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you shortened the distance between your bodies even more and his hands moved down your body, from your back to your ass, to your tight where he grabbed and entangled them around his waist. He placed you on top of the sofa, magically not letting your lips grow apart.

You could feel the bulge on his pants hardening with each touch, so you lowered one hand to cup his member in it’s entirety, but not managing to get a hold of half of it. Shit. You tried to pull at his waistband, but he pushed your hand away. “I’m not wasting time.” he said, taking you off of your seat. “I need to be inside you.”

Shit, shit, shit, shit. The thought of his words becoming a reality soaking your panties more than they already were, as you had to grind on his clothed crotch to get the friction, the sensation you so desperately needed. You wanted him inside of you now, not a minute later.

“Your room?” he asked.

“First door to the right.” you said, gasping for air between his kisses.

With ease, he walked to your bedroom as if he knew you home by heart, and as if he didn’t carry a girl but just a stuffed toy. His only struggle came at the door handle, but reaching behind you you managed to open it up for him, a group effort for a group pleasure.

Dick let go of your legs, letting your feet hit the floor once again. His hands were quick to find the hem of your shirt, tugging at it before you broke the kiss to allow him to pull it over your head, your bra being ripped off your skin not much later. His shirt and sweatpants flew behind him too in just a few seconds, and he soon had you pinned on the bed, hands trapped by his on top of your head.

Dick had an urgency in him you’d never seen before, more used to his calm demeanor. He grunted on your ear as he sucked on your neck, leaving marks you knew you wouldn’t be able to hide at work, and he grinded his clothed dick on your bare pussy.

“You don’t know how much I’ve been wanting this.” he groaned, one hand grabbing tightly at your boob. “Some days beside you were pure torture.”

You couldn’t imagine an Officer Dreamy having dreams about you, just like you did with him, but from the sound of it, he had plenty. All you could do was moan out his name, his mouth doing magic on your neck as his hands finally reached where you needed him more.

Rubbing slowly at your clit, you tried humping it, wanting it faster, wanting release, but his movements remained slow, torturous. 

“D-dick.” you cried out his name, begging him to speed up his touch.

“Say it again, darling. Say it.” he requested. “Let my fucking name slip out of your dirty little mouth.”

“Dick. Dick, please!” you obeyed, little the silly little slut you were for him. If your friends or coworkers found out about this, they’d be very disapproving, they’d tell you it was wrong to fuck your superior, but fuck it, fuck him you will.

He moaned loudly in your ear and his movements gained speed. He rubbed at your clit harshly, making it bruise, but the pain only added to the growing sensation on your core. He lowered his head and his lip grabbed your nipple, and his sucks were enough to bring you to the edge.

“You came so hard for me, darling.”

Moving away from your skin, setting your hands free, he admired your cum glistening on his hands before bringing them to his mouth and licking it off his finger. “I knew you’d taste fucking delicious.”

This idea of him wanting to fuck you for so long did wonders to your ego and booted any confidence you still had. The man you so desperately wanted for so long had wanted you as desperately for just as long. Your heart beat so fast you were sure he could hear it, but you wanted him too, no secrets lying between you two anymore.

Without you noticing, his boxers were gone and his hard dick bounced on his crotch, the rosy tip, dripping with precum, staining his stomach. Lining up outside your entrance, rubbing his tip on your clit just to tease you a little more, his eyes met yours. They trapped you as they did inside the car, but now they didn’t stare at you with simple desire. It burned, it consumed him and needed to find a way to release it. And his way was you.

With no warning, he thrusted into you, his size ripping you open and you let out a scream as you prayed your neighbors were heavy sleepers. Dick, as soon as his member was fully within you, let out a guttural groan, the sexiest moan you’d ever heard come out of a man.

“F-fuck you’re so tight.” he moaned. “Just like I imagined.”

Lying on top of you, he met your lips, he wrapped your fingers in his and slid your hands to the top of your head again. His thrusts were fast, hard, reaching you deeper and deeper, taking out of you a scream louder than the other, only muffled by his mouth that refused to leave yours.

You wrapped your leg around his waist, wanting him to go deeper, if it was even possible, so consumed with lust that all logic melted out of your mind.

It wasn’t a fuck, it was love making, sensual and nearly animalistic love making, and the idea of it made the butterflies in your stomach go feral just as you were. If he loved you or not, even it was even something else more the pure lust, was a discussion for later, but he fucked you like no one else did, and you only hoped it was a sign he was not like the others. That he wasn’t just a single page in a large book.

The wet sound of your skins meeting each other filled the room, but only because your mouths were glued together, all sound not allowed to make it out.

“You’re taking me in so good, aren’t you Yn?”

“Yes, y-yes. You’re filling me so good.” you cried back.

“Are you gonna come on my dick, Yn? Are you gonna let me feel you coming?” he teased, nearly as desperate for your orgasm as you were.

“Yes.” you replied, louder than you’d wished. With a few more thrusts, you came all over his hard dick, your body shaking ferociously, reaching a high you’d never reached before. “Uuh, yes!” you screamed, as he continued to pump into you, his own orgasm imminent.

“I’m gonna come, Yn.” he announced, thrusting once more before taking his member out of your pussy and stroking it up and down with his hands. His milky load hit your belly, painting you in sin, as your tongue extended out for a little drip of it.

Exhausted, Dick threw himself on the bed beside you, both your breath audibly out of pace. Your body was covered in sweat, your bed sheet sticking to your back as you tried your best to recollect yourself.

“Officer McCaffrey would be so disappointed.” you joked, getting a loud laugh out of the man beside you. Crossing his arm over your waist, he pulled you closer to him, kissing the wet baby hairs at your temple.

“Wanna disappoint him again?” he asked, turning your face to meet your eyes, his new found favorite thing to look at.

“All night?” you asked in return.

“All fucking night.”

It was safe to say you were late for work again the next morning, and would be late a few more times, as Officer Dreamy would gladly keep you up for as long as you wished.

[deepestnightcolor]

If you don’t mind me asking, I love your writing and I’d love to see a Sam x quiet/awkward farmer who’s *really* bad at talking to people but he just automatically accepts them. Maybe mutual pining and anything else you’d like!! 🙈💕

☾ ᴘᴀᴘᴇʀ ᴘʟᴀɴᴇꜱ ☽

ᴀ/ɴ: Hello!!~ Thank you so, so much for your request. I certainly had fun writing it. I hope this is what you wanted! ^^ Thanks again for your time and request, I hope you enjoy~

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sam (SDV) x GN!Reader

ᴡᴄ: 2271 words

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: No warnings, just fluff.

Slowly, the pen slipped from your fingers, your eyes wandering over the pages you had just written down your thoughts on. Your journal; a loyal companion. Sometimes, it felt like your best friend, so safe and secure.  It was the only time when you were able to articulate your thoughts and ideas without worrying about the words you chose, without fearing a stutter surfacing. You didn’t have to wonder if you sounded stupid, or your tongue twisting, disarranging your words. Your journal allowed you to share, without judgement, without the twisting in your stomach you often had when talking to people that weren’t part of your closest circle. Without feeling like you needed to run as fast and as far as possible. However, if someone casted a glance over the most recent pages, they would have found that you wanted quite the opposite. That there was a new person you wanted to talk to. That there was a person you wanted to get to know, that you wanted to share with. That there was a person that had caught your interest, and whose attention you wanted. Desperately so, even.

That’s why you took in a deep breath, carefully picking up the cactus fruit that had been sitting on your desk as if to remind you of what you had promised yourself, and you would be damned if you didn’t do it. At least that was what you had thought, up until you saw him. Sam was sitting on the bridge near the museum, picking up small rocks and tossing them in the river idly flowing by. Your heart fluttered in your chest when you heard him chuckle at an especially loud plop. His laugh was cute, you found. It started as a grumble in his chest and then brightened up like the sky after a thunderstorm. In all honesty, though, you found pretty much everything about Sam cute in a way. The blue-green of his eyes that reminded you of a cool lake on a hot summer day, the mess of hair that in all actuality was carefully styled every morning; the small freckles that had darkened over the summer season.

You were so deep in your thoughts that you hadn’t quite realized that you had started to wander towards Sam until he called out for you. “Hey, farmer! Comin’ to spend time with me?” His eyes were sparkling softly, and the smile on his lip was one of such warmth and genuineness that it made your head spin. The words you had oh so carefully sorted out and mulled about were seemingly picked up by their roots, put in a small container, and violently shaken around, just to be lost somewhere in your head, your tongue twisting into several knots all by itself.

You felt your hands getting clammy around the fruit they were holding, your cheeks heating up as an uncomfortable feeling travelled down your spine. You must have looked like an idiot; you sure felt like one. But if you did, Sam didn’t seem to care – quite the opposite. He seemed excited that you were here, inviting, even.   You opened your mouth to tell him something, to at least try to find some words to start a conversation, but it appeared that your tongue took your mouth opening as a sign to twist even more. Panic arose in you, even though the blond’s smile had such a soothing energy that it almost lured you out of your shyness. Almost. Instead of answering him, or even speaking in general, you thrust the cactus fruit in Sam’s lap, turned on your heel, and ran off.

Sam’s head tilted to the side as he watched you run off, eyes slowly falling onto the fruit on his lap. He had been genuinely excited to spend some time with you; the farmer who seemed to ghost around town, the farmer that seemed to never speak; the farmer who was so adorable and cute and sweet that it made his heart swell. The farmer that he had been trying to coax out of their shell but had never succeeded. Or at least that was what he had thought until now. One day he had met you at the beach and, as it was his nature, struck up a conversation with you. Well, in reality, it had been a monologue. You had been digging your feet around the sand and were fiddling with a seashell while he had been talking about pretty much everything that popped into his head. At some point, he had mentioned how much he loved cactus fruits and how he would love to have one again one day. And now it was on his lap, which meant…You hadn’t been uninterested. You had actually been listening. And you cared.  

You also remembered that day at the beach fondly. You had been intrigued by Sam’s ability to talk, by not having to think about his words fifteen times like you did. He made you feel a little easier, even though your body language didn’t show that once. Yet Sam’s attitude towards you didn’t change, he kept up the friendly tone in his voice, the warm smile in your direction. Plus, you were thankful. Thankful that someone other than Robin or Mayor Lewis talked to you; that someone else started a conversation. It had meant something to you, something so sincere that you held it dear.

Really, it wasn’t like you didn’t want social interaction. It just didn’t come naturally to you, and people often didn’t have enough patience to allow you to warm up to them. Sam, however, seemed like he had.

Really, it wasn’t like you didn’t want social interaction. It just didn’t come naturally to you, and people often didn’t have enough patience to allow you to warm up to them. Sam, however, seemed like he did. That was the reason you tried to show him that you were interested. That you did want to get to know him. Yet since you were lacking words, actions needed to suffice.  

The next time you found Sam he was at the beach again, the hot summer sun having reddened his cheeks – or perhaps it was the exhaustion from running after Vincent, who just didn’t seem to be affected by the heat at all. You looked at the blue, cooled-down can in your hand, a smile on your face. You had the feeling your gift would come over well.

Sam had just plopped down on the hot sand, stretching out his aching legs when a shadow suddenly casted over him. His eyes snapped up, and the smile that followed could have definitely been able to compete with the sun. “Hey. Lookin’ very cute today. The sun ain’t gettin’ to you?” An attempt to charm you, a weak one – he didn’t want to scare you away, after all, such a delicate thing like you -, but an attempt, nonetheless. It bared results with you that the sun hadn’t achieved. Your cheeks heated up, some of the redness spreading down to your throat and wrapping around your neck like a warm hand. You gave Sam the only thing you could muster; a smile. You handed the cold can to him, and before there was even a chance to open up the conversation, you were stalking back toward town. “Thanks!” Sam called after you, the smile on his lips still there, only dying down when he realized you wouldn’t come back.

That’s how your game went; you would find Sam and hand him a gift. The blond would smile and thank you, but before he could start talking more, you were gone. Some days you felt more confident than usual, some days you had your words ready again. But his smile? That stunning, pretty, sunshine and moonlight smile? It always made these words tumble down your throat, blocking any sort of noise from ever escaping again. That was the point when you just smiled back at him and vanished, making a beeline for the way you had just come from.

From the outside, it seemed like you kept your cool about this. But your journal held the truth; that you just didn’t know how to talk to him. That you just didn’t know how to overcome this. Whenever when you were close to him, seeing that radiant look on his face, smelling that scent of vanilla and cola, feeling these feelings everything around you seemed to crumble. Everything within you crumbled. The confidence, the intent to really make it happen, to actually talk to him today.  

The only thing that kept you trying was the fact that Sam didn’t appear to lose his patience with you, quite the opposite. He became more open with you, telling you that you looked good, that your smile was pretty today. He tried to talk more to you, telling you that you looked good, that your smile was pretty today, that the crops that came from your farm were delicious – he talked as much as he could before you would plant whatever gift you had brought him in his lap and then wandering off.

And really – Sam did try his best, after all, you were worth it to him. You seemed like a genuinely good person, with eyes so pretty that he got lost in them every time he had been able to catch them. You caring enough about him to find him every day and give him his gifts made him want to try harder, help you feel comfortable enough around him to speak to him.  Sam had simply never been in a situation where someone didn’t talk to him. Usually, he talked long enough and with such an energy that he lulled most people into a conversation, but not with you. Which meant he would need to try a different route.

He had heard you coming before he could have seen you. The smile was already lingering on his lips as he turned to you. You held a cactus fruit in his hand, a look of surprise fleeting over your face. Had he been waiting for you? “Hey. Had a good day today?”  He asked, now turning around completely so he could face you more easily. You gave him a sheepish smile and tried to hand him the cactus fruit, but instead of just taking it, Sam dropped something small in your hand. “Thank you,” he grinned, giving you a wink.

You swallowed thickly, your fist clenching around the object he had given you as you headed back to your farm.

You were panting when you had reached your front porch, but that didn’t mean that your curiosity didn’t get the better of you. Slowly opening your fingers, you saw a rectangle of white. Upon closer inspection, you found that it was a folded piece of paper. Your fingers were trembling as you tried to unwrap it. Was he going to tell you to leave you alone? Had he realized you were weird and wanted you to stay away from him?

The sloppy handwriting that greeted you would have made you chuckle if it hadn’t been for the anxiety cursing through you. But the words were…soothing. Warm- like his smile. “Hey, I realized you don’t like to talk much. So maybe I thought you would like to trade notes while I take you on a date to the beach? I will be there tomorrow at 6.”

Your heart swelled in your chest – maybe there really was someone that would understand you, other than your journal. Someone was willing to give you a chance like this.

The blond of his hair appeared to be of golden colour as the setting sun caught it in its soft embrace. Sam was sitting on a blanket he had spread out in the sand, his face stretched towards the warmth he could still find in the sky, only turning his head when he heard you approach. As you got closer, you could see that Sam had been true to his word; different coloured pieces of paper were sitting on the blanket next to him; he had even brought a pencil case of markers. He gave you a smile and a gentle wave as you sat down next to him.

For a moment, you weren’t sure what to do. Was this a joke? Maybe he would just make fun of you? What if he grew tired of it quickly? A note, folded like an airplane, landed on your lap. The author carried a grin of pride, giving you two thumbs up.

 “So, does a farmer have hobbies? Or are you too busy for them?” A smile folded on your lips, fingers wrapping around a pen, ready to do what you knew you could do; without the twist of tongue, without a stutter, without having to worry your words would get lost on the way.

The stack of paper had become considerably small as you were sitting in silence. The sun had set, and the pale light of the moon illuminating the beach made it hard to write. But it felt comfortable to just sit next to Sam and…exist. Sam had asked you about yourself, and whenever he had read your replies, he had looked at you and nodded, just to go back to reading. His tongue had been sticking out when he wrote, and his eyes had always been gauging your reaction when you read his replies; drinking up each smile, each snort, each giggle, each reaction. But right now, he was content with just being next to you, and not hearing you run away from him.

What he didn’t expect was a small voice next to him, unsure, and yet firm. “Thank you, Sam.”

[onesidedradiostatic]

I can't work out if Alastor genuinely considered Vox a friend or thought of him more as like. A cute pet that dotes on its owner and does little tricks. And then he shows off his cute little pet to Rosie and Mimzy. I don't think he ever viewed Vox as a threat to him in any way, but it makes me wonder about Vox's whole smooth, smart, scary and competent side we initially see in episode 2. Was that something he picked up from Alastor, or was it something Vox already had that might have sparked Alastor's interest? Did he actually mentor Vox in any way or did he just think it was fun to watch him try to build a tiny version of Alastor's empire.

we don't have a whole lot to go off of right now, especially when it comes to alastor's side, but personally I find it more interesting if alastor did genuinely consider vox a friend. even if in his own alastor fashion, there were probably certain walls he never let down. I think it's interesting in that, we know alastor has more of a soft spot for women, so in this pre-husk era, vox could've easily been one of his first few male friends. which kinda makes it sadder it didn't work out. it's like it just proved to alastor "right this is why I don't trust men".

things we know rn are:

alastor calls vox "old pal" at the end of episode 2

alastor allowed vox to take a picture with him at some point

alastor, who is perfectly capable of killing overlords, has not killed vox

also seen this pointed out before, but in the initial commercial alastor filmed in episode 1, although shitty, he did do some actual editing

I wouldn't expect alastor to already have knowledge of how to do this beforehand on his own, question is: did he learn it himself? or did he learn it...

...from someone else in the past?

not to mention he seems to just instinctively already know how to set up shit for filming near the end of the episode. he must have gotten some experience from somewhere.

I think this post describes what they could've learnt from each other in the past best

I like to think alastor saw him as more than just some cute pet, at least back then. it adds more depth to their relationship. obviously there's stuff like the toxic homoerotic stalker-like obsession I feel is one-sided on vox's part (points to my url), but that doesn't mean I think alastor's side of their general relationship is completely non-existent. them having a genuine past friendship that affected both of them in different ways is what adds layers to their relationship I think. they were clearly both affected by their falling out in that they both developed irrational hatred of the other's medium as a result. and honestly? really need to see more of alastor's side of this, I think it'd be really interesting. even though, he hates vox now, and I don't believe he wants him back as a friend, is there any sort of sentiment left from their past friendship? is there a reason why he hasn't killed him? or was the time he almost beat vox an attempt at that? (though I like to believe it wasn't)

obviously, all we can do now is speculate based on the evidence we have in season 1, but for me personally, I like to think they were legitimately friends at some point.

[honey-minded-hivemind]

The lost episodes being more slow paced, filler like episodes with that have a strong vibe that something (or someone) is missing.

One episode is the younger members cleaning a bedroom in the mansion as punishment as it hasnt been used in a while and has a thich layer of dust and them getting distracted with all the cool and potentially dangerous stuff in there. Apparently, it's that mystery character's room, but, again, they never actually show up. Just have somber scene as everyone contemplates their friends, and someone mentions how much older they must be now. Reader think this character has good taste since the room looks very close to their own style ( and looks very familiar)

Another is that Jubilee (or another younger character) is hiding something in her closet, which is close to bursting. It's all these clothes given as gifts from the mystery character. But she's outgrown them and feels like awful that she's losing her connection to them, but she needs to get rid of them as she doesn'thave any space. It has a sweet message about letting go and always having someone in your heart, but Reader kinda wishes they got to see episodes of Jubilee wearing the clothes, they think they would have look good on her.

One episode is Xavier( or another adult) working himself near to death trying to find the character, and everyone worrying. It ends with a heavy hint of them being found as the adult stares into the screen with heavy relief. Reader swears their eyes dig into their soul.

Yes! I like it! I'll add a little to each one, if that's okay! (anyone who wants to add an idea for a filer episode, feel free to share your idea!) ( @thewickedweiner and @vivid-bun and @weebwholovesuchihasasuke!)

Episode One?: The younger characters stumble into a room that looks like it hasn't seen the light in years. A few posters line the walls, the bed has thick comforter and blankets in grays and brown and reds, there's old drawing books and classic literature on a nightstand, even a box of trinkets and a few clothes and items hidden in a closet. A thick layer of dust covers everything, causing several characters to sneeze. Some items are pretty cool, for example: fossilized clam shells, tumbled rocks, old books, animal feathers, shiny trinkets. And some are probably not as safe, such as: a knife they found, a notebook full of... it doesn't show... and a box full of old items that Logan and Morph are quick to tuck somewhere else. The characters mention some good old times, fighting alongside this mystery character, watching them grow, having fun outside of saving the day, old habits they had... They sound really cool to Reader, who notes their room is comforting, in shades that make them feel relaxed and at home, with items they'd find fascinating... Yet the episode is somber, with no one knowing where this character is or what happened to them, let alone if they're still alive... But it ens with the team promising to find them, and one or another putting things to rest, no matter what they find... (It leaves a sad feeling inside Reader, as well as a discomfort and feeling of dread...)

• Episode 12??: Jubilee is trying to hold onto the memory of the missing character or a friend of her's, but she can't hold onto the past forever. It's a needed message, one to help deal with grief amf moving on in a healthy way (or so Reader thinks). Jubilee has old clothes she can no longer wear, but were gifts from her friend, so she doesn't want to give them up. But she's reminded that her friend is still with her, and would want her to be okay, and that it's okay to move on, because they'll always be a part of you, always have a place in your heart. It's touching, making you smile a little, epically when the others comfort her...

• Episode 23???: What seems to be a final episode of the lost seasons (at least the first lost season, anyways) where Xavier and a few if the others have been working nonstop, trying to find this missing character, who's been mentioned the last season or two amd throughout the entire series, and everyone is afraid to hold onto that hope, wanting to either move on or run themselves ragged trying to find any trace of them... You watch with bated breath as the episode plays out, as various characters, even some villains or side characters, get involved... The team keeps trying to assure Xavier and each other they've done the best they can, that there's only so much they can do, that no one blame them for what happened- Amd then the last few minutes of the epsidoe depict a heavy hint that the characters found a clue, or that their friend was alive... and they were staring out at the screen again, as though they could see through it, too...

(I imagine a few episodes explore dealing with grief, guilt, and heavier emotions, while others show different places they've gone before with their missing friend, even a few where the villains or side characters get a day-in-the-limelight episode) (And some of what was in the box that Logan and Morph took, what was in the notebook, and a few hints as to what the missing character might have been like or little nicknames for them) (and Kevin is no help, playing the tapes whenever they're at the ReelTheatre, and jokes about not spoiling anything too early for Reader) (They walk Reader home one night, and are so glad to spend extra time with them!) (Bonus: some of the characters visit Reader or enter their home when they're asleep)

[raikanata]

Taking Care of a Difficult Child - Mayoi Ayase Feature Scout 2 4* Story

[ Read on my site for a better viewing experience using Ois~su♪ ]

Warning: This is a Fan TL and is not proofread.

Characters: Mayoi, Tomoya, Tatsumi

Season: Winter

Mayoi: So you're asking m-me to take care of Hokuto-senpai?

Tomoya: I'm sorry to ask so suddenly. It turned out that our next location wasn't going to be a day trip.

I can't take Hokuto-senpai to work with me, and the pet shop manager hasn't returned to Japan yet, so...

I'm looking for someone who can take care of him until I return from work...

Mayoi: I see. I understand your situation.

Well... I'm very happy that you came to me for help, but...

I really don't think I'm suited to take care of Hokuto-senpai...!

Even when you first got Hokuto-senpai, I mostly spent time in another room so I wouldn't get in your way...

Um, umm... Can't you ask the people in "ANIMALS" for help, like you did before?

Tomoya: Well, I tried to ask them. But it looks like everyone already has plans on that day.

They can only be back by the evening...

Mayoi: And someone has to take care of Hokuto-senpai until then, right...

(Wh-what should I do? I more or less know how to take care of Hokuto-senpai, since I watched Mashiro-san doing it...)

(Even though I know how to care for him, I don't know if he'll listen to me at all.)

(Nevermind that, if something was to happen to Mashiro-san's precious Hokuto-senpai because I wasn't able to take care of him properly...)

Tomoya: ...I'm sorry, Ayase-senpai. I put you in a difficult position by asking something like this so suddenly.

Mayoi: No, I...

Tomoya: Please forget about it. I'll try and ask some other people as well.

Mayoi: (I've troubled Mashiro-san a lot, not only in the "Dead End Cafe", but also as a roommate...)

(I want to return the favor if I can...)

(After all, he came to me for help. There must have not been anyone else that he could ask.)

I, I got it!

Tomoya: Ayase-senpai...?

Mayoi: If the members of "ANIMALS" can make it towards the night...

I will accept the responsibility, and take care of Hokuto-senpaii!

Time: The next day

Mayoi: Then... Let's get along today, Hokuto-senpai ♪

(Since Tomoya-san is off to work, from here on, I have to take great care of him..!)

Uum, Mashiro-san already fed him, so next up...

Mayoi: Eek!? Hokuto-senpai cried out suddenly...! What's wrong!?

I'msorryI'msorryy, I know someone like me isn't fit to take care of you!

But please, be a little patient with me...!

Ah, where are you going...! Please waaiiit!

Tatsumi: (I'm relieved that my vegetables seem to be growing nicely♪)

(Right. Before I forget, let me send this picture I took to everyone in "Gardenia". Uuh, to attach an image...)

(...Hm? There's a familiar crying sound coming from somewhere.)

(The source of the voice... seems to be Mayoi-san and Tomoya-san's room. That means...)

Mayoi-san, Tomoya-san. It sounds like Hokuto-senpai is crying. Did something happen?

(No answer. I can still hear the crying, but no sound from Mayoi-san or anyone else...)

(I'll have to invite myself in, Mayoi-san!)

Tatsumi: This is!? Mayoi-san, are you okay!?

Mayoi: Uuu...?

Tatsumi: Why did you collapse in the room like this!?

Where is Tomoya-san!? What exactly happened here!?

Mayoi: ...Ah, God must be so merciful as to allow even a person such as myself to receive a final call of fate...

Tatsumi: Please hang on! This isn't a final call of anything!

Mayoi: Uuu... I'm sorry to make you worry like this...

I was so deeply focused on taking good care of Hokuto-senpai, I forgot to take care of myself, even to eat...

But I never thought that I'd pass out... If Tatsumi-san didn't find me, who knows what would have become of me...

Tatsumi: You're exaggarating. However, I'm relieved that you seem better now.

Mayoi: You even made toast for me. Thank you so much, really.

Tatsumi: It's Hokuto-senpai that you should thank. I was alerted to the situation thanks to his cries.

Mayoi: I-is that so. Thank you, Hokuto-sen--

Eek!? Why are you screaming so much? Did, did I do something to offend you...?

Uuu, you really won't listen to me...

What do I do... At this rate, we won't even make it until everyone from "ANIMALS" arrives.

Tatsumi: Please raise your head, Mayoi-san.

Tatsumi: Hokuto-senpai is yelling at me as well, it's not because of you.

I heard from Koga-san that the reason why Tomoya-san started to call him "Hokuto-senpai" was to get him to listen.

He seems to have a bit of a difficult personality, right? We need to get him to let his guard down first.

Mayoi: Let his guard down, huh... But, how...

Tatsumi: That's right. Is there anything that Tomoya-san uses regularly when taking care of him?

Mayoi: Well, there's a blanket on the bed over there, but...

Tatsumi: I heard that having an item around that carries their smell, or their owner's smell, is calming for animals.

Using that, maybe we can try and see whether we can get Hokuto-senpai to lower his guard?

Mayoi: I see...! It's bath time right now, so I'll try to take him to the bathroom with the blanket!

He-here! This way, Hokuto-senpai! It's bath time now♪

Ah, he's walking this way...!

....but, ahh! He completely stopped in his tracks!

Tatsumi: Hm, it's not going all that well.

Mayoi: N-no! When I take a step back, he also takes a step forward...! I just can't get any closer to him!

Tatsumi: That's fine. We can work like this until Koga-san and the others arrive.

Mayoi: Yes! Like this, I'll succeed in taking care of Hokuto-senpai properly ♪

Tatsumi: That's right, keep going, Mayoi-san.

Tomoya: ...Ah. Akehoshi-senpai sent me a text.

"Hokuto-senpai's doing just fine~!", it says.

Hm, there's a picture attached too... This is, Ayase-senpai feeding Hokuto-senpai?

I'm glad that Hokuto-senpai seems to be listening to Ayase-senpai seriously...

I have to thank Ayase-senpai properly. Let's get him a nice souvenir before returning home ♪

Tomoya: ....That aside, why does Ayase-senpai seem to be holding my clothes that should have been in the laundry basket?

[ ☆ ]

[my-mt-heart]

Thoughts on TBOC 204

This was supposed to be it. The episode we all celebrated. The one that would make the setbacks worth it and set the stage for the proper Caryl spinoff we've been waiting for since it was first announced in 2020. Not only did it NOT achieve any of that, it was one of the most painful "Caryl" episodes to get through, even more so for me than "Find Me" in the flagship show. That's saying something. I couldn't bring myself to watch 204 a second time (the first time was pirated I must point out again), and frankly, I think a second watch would only make me look for the benefit of the doubt somewhere, which this episode doesn't deserve. The below is my gut reaction...

The reunion itself was sweet. I loved Carol's choked sob and Daryl's long pause as he tried to figure out if she was real. I loved the running, the crying, and the face touching. It was the best display of who Caryl are as a couple/duo and who McReedus are as acting partners in the whole season. But it's a gimmick. A far less impactful nod to the Terminus reunion that plays out in a vacuum. It doesn't allow for any character growth and it doesn't last long enough for the already reduced impact to hold.

Isabelle's death stifles Caryl's reunion, the one thing that fans were dying to see. Zabel couldn't let them have the space they deserved because even he knows the most organic next step would be Caryl going canon. So he interrupts it as quickly as he can at the expense of another female character's and female actress' dignity, which unfortunately also colors the rest of Caryl's arc together. They can't even have an arc to themselves, nor experience any growth because they have to react to that death. Nothing about Daryl's behavior in the aftermath suggests that Daryl "loves" Isabelle the way Zabel and his mouthpieces characters want us to believe, but it still looms large. For Carol, it means that "her Daryl" found (and lost) somebody else, which is heartbreaking not only for her but for her fans who watched her literally go the distance for this man. Meanwhile, Daryl's mind is occupied with concerns and/or guilt over Laurent being in danger/having nobody else that he doesn't even take the time to acknowledge just how fucking far Carol has come for him and how unfounded his fear of being forgotten was. On the contrary, he's the one who let himself forget about her.

What Carol said on the radio is another thread that gets upended because of Daryl's twisted priorities. As they're looking for Laurent, he asks her in passing about who came back as if he didn't spend all of S1 worrying about it. Carol says it was "a feeling," but when she starts to open up about her struggles, Daryl stops her because he picked up Laurent's trail. That's one of many times in just this one episode that Daryl treats Carol like shit, like he isn't even Daryl anymore because the real Daryl is always attentive, even if he's mad at her for something, he always worries about her, and he always tries to put her first.

Caryl are meant to parallel the old couple they meet up with, I realize that, and I also see the beats that are meant to make us wonder if there's something more between Caryl than friendship, particularly when Carol watches the couple dance and her eye wanders to Daryl very subtly and the beat where the man calls them out for acting like a literal "old married couple." But the parallels get murky and once again, they're eclipsed by Isabelle's death and what she may have meant to Daryl. I guess I'm really tired of parallels in general. Don't give me parallels to Caryl. Give me Caryl beats that move their relationship forward.

I'm sorry to say that I did not enjoy Caryl's banter this episode. It wasn't playful or cute. Most of the time, Daryl was just being a dick to Carol. I think the idea of Daryl having a new family raises her insecurities, and at one point she suggests that Daryl is afraid he'll end up like her, meaning he'll lose his child. Daryl's response is that he isn't afraid of that at all, but Norman's delivery is strange. I can't tell if he's being genuine or if he's mocking her.

Caryl's chemistry is definitely off, and I think some fans are not sure how to reconcile that with the annoyingly subtle "teases" of more. To me, the vibe reminds me of a divorced couple and I kept getting the impression that Daryl is hanging on to some resentment about whatever transpired between them before he left. I think there's a story there, but I do not believe Zabel and the other stooges are open to exploring it. We need a competent showrunner for that.

Daryl's line to Carol that "he never ever stopped trying to get home to her," packs a punch, but not in the way I was hoping. Instead of being Carol's man of honor who shows his devotion to her (something this woman needed), it feels dirty, like a husband who got caught cheating and tries to tell his wife that he was thinking about her the whole time. That sentiment is repeated when Carol hands him the wooden figurine that Judith made for him. My heart shattered for Carol in both of these scenes because she deserves the "only man to make her feel safe" and he just isn't there. I don't know who is, but it's not Daryl and it makes me sad for him too. I miss the real Daryl.

As always, Melissa puts on an incredible performance. So does Clemence. I'm glad they got to act together at least in one scene, but the story doesn't do either of them justice. It's misogynistic, it's hurtful, it's baffling. Where the fuck is the Caryl spinoff we were promised? This isn't it.

[sorinethemastermind]

EVERYTHING WE KNOW ABOUT TDP S7

Compiling it here for all to peruse! Spoilers under the cut.

The Season Synopsis is as follows:

Aaravos is out in a big way! It’s not too late to catch up on The Dragon Prince before the season 7 culmination and climax of the great fantasy saga. As Aaravos and Claudia seek to destroy the cosmic orderand invert life and death, our heroes must literally be ready to sacrifice anything and everything they love and believe in to save the world! This season will be more thrilling, magical, and heartbreaking than ever.

Episode 07x01 breakdown: by Reel James and Cartoon Universe (compiled on Tumblr by the amazing @raayllum thank you!)

Sorens says "there's nothing I could do" while sobbing.

Rayla refers to Callum as “the human I love” to Runaan.

These both take place somewhere within the episode one breakdowns above.

The scene from the teaser also takes place in 07x01

And we got this stunning image from the NYCC panel and after, the official Dragon Prince accounts:

Lies hide in the shadows, but the darkest truths hide in the light.

The S7 teaser images are as follows;

(^ this image was confirmed to take place in episode one ^)

We've been told that this amulet ^ is connected to Laurelion, the same Startouch Elf that mentioned in the poem The Death of the Immortal.

The following is from @raayllum's interview with Aaraon Ehasz, which can be found here. Go give it a listen!

Season Seven starts with Karim and his army imprisoned by Janai.

"Terry is a really special character and if you watched him, he’s so good, and what we’ll find out is, he is — there is an episode called TRUE HEART and he is someone who has a true heart. It’s very impossibly rare and special — but also we all understand what a true heart is in some way and we’ll learn a little more about that. But yeah, the question of what will Terry do, what can he do, is difficult because he has a very strong sense of right and wrong, but he has a very deep capacity for love and he loves Claudia with all of his heart. Where does that present an impossible conflict, it may… we’ll see a challenge."

When Rayllum mentioned wanting to see more about the origins of dark magic and Elarion to which Ehasz repled: "Great".

Punishing the Cosmic Council is more "complicated" than punishing Sol Regem for Leola's death.

He also hinted that things might change for Aaravos, and that one of the things doing that might be his relationship with Claudia.

Ehasz excited for the part of Ezran that has to cope with Runaan being back and the castle being destroyed.

Let me know if you find anything else and I'll add it!!

[mysteriouslyjovialcolor]

Abu Dhabi 2016

-Brocedes divorce??

-Carlos is p21??

-aww this is Button and Massa’s last race

-“just follow his man home” they just want to create the allegations at this point

-14th front row lockout, 7 1-2s for Mercedes (interestinggg)

-longest season on record?

-oh shit Max spun

-oh wow the commentary for turn 1 is intense

-finallyyyy a proper leaderboard

-p19 Max 😢

-I miss Daniel having a good car

-the leaderboard is gone again

-I love that wheel to wheel action

-he’s p12 now

-poor Kevin

-Bottas retirement too?

-I like this circuit

-knew he’d make it to points

-it’s so weird seeing a good Mercedes pit stop strategy (like what happened to them now??)

-at least Ferrari has been consistently bad ig

-what would happen if Brocedes took themselves out here? Does Nico just win because he’s leading?

-the hell is “the lollipop man”

-haha Max is actually such a menace to Nico

-no wonder Red Bull took Checo, he actually defends really well

-oh no!! Jenson!! That would be such a bad ending to a retirement 😢😢

-what’s with these last two races having drivers retire with emotional endings

-are they not getting it back out??

-aww his mom

-poor Daniil

-ohh I just realized why Max is holding Nico off

-poor Nico really just got stuck between the fight between Red Bull and Ferrari

-oh come on Daniel

-that was a pretty cool Nico overtake

-Max playing the team game is not what I was expecting

-the pit crew fist bumping is adorable

-the way this was supposed to be a Brocedes war but somehow Nico is more worried about Max

-the fact that he somehow went from p19 to p2 to hold Nico off and now he’s in p8 like??

-yayy undercut

-he’s p5 now!

-“Red Bull have just outsmarted Ferrari” and not for the last time

-okay how does anyone understand radios without subtitles

-I’m so sorry Carlos, I forgot you were in this race

-oh wow I’m actually being impressed by Checo rn

-good one from Daniel tho

-Max is really just Nico’s personal demon isn’t he

-“box box box”

-“what a recovery that’s been” indeed

-props to Mercedes pit crew

-why is Paris Hilton hereee

-Aww that’s really sad about Jenson

“I’ll try my best to find that (joy) somewhere else”

I hope he has

-the way these people went from praising Verstappen to villainizing him needs to be studied

-“what position am I in?” Do the drivers just not know until someone tells them? Actually stupid question, them not knowing makes sense

-aww kinda wanted Vettel to go till the end

-does Lewis win this race and just not the championship?

Cause it’s kinda underwhelming not winning the race but winning a championship isn’t it

-manifesting Max podium ✨

-just hit me that I’m watching cars race, what has my life become

-yay Carlos is back!

-lapping cars must be so annoying

-oh no Carlos!! Whyyy!

-it would be a shame if he retired now

-aah bad day to be Toro Rosso

-“here comes the cavalry” that was cold

-I like when they call Daniel the “last of the late breakers”

-I spoke too soon, Ferrari made a comeback

-do I unmanifest the Max podium?

-once again wondering if Nico loses and still wins cause whaaat

-ALSO BRING IN RADIO SUBTITLES

-Sebastian podiummm???

-the way Max is somehow helping Nico rn by holding Seb back

-Sebastian Podium!!!!

-no way this becomes a Ferrari win right?

-I have no idea what’s happening with Lewis rn

-3 more lapsss

-ooh Nico’s wifeee

-this inter-team tension is crazy

-ohmygod I can’t believe Lewis is going to win this

-“I’m losing a world championship so I want to win this race” woah

-aaaah no way Nico wins a championship with a p3

-Brocedes divorce.

-this is so stressfullll

-let’s go Nico!!!!

-that was a great race!!

-aww all the drivers waiving is really cute

-awww his wifeee, that’s adorable

-Massa radio 😢

-donuts!!

-NR6!!!

-aww Sebastian hug

-still bizarre to me that he won from p2 (I really need to learn how the point system works)

-the podium has 9 wc combined (pretty cool)

-aaaaah Lewis and Seb just talking and him not making eye contact with Nico

-Seb just reveling in the tension

-Sebastian is so cute, bring him back

-I had way too much to say for this race

- (had to scream into my pillow) Brocedes are so messy

- aww he dedicated his win to his wife

- he’s cryingggg

- I wish I got to see Sebastian race in real time 😭

- they’re really asking for the drama

- “it was tough to beat you” 😭😭

- what is this tension ? I will die

- NR6!! Deserved!! 🎉🎉

[tearsofcaravel]

Connection: Part 1

Sammy x (F) Reader

A smidge of Danny x (F) Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: 18+, (F) oral, (F)&(M) masturbation, unprotected sex, squirting, choking

Summary: Enemies to lovers, Sam used to be your best friend, now your sworn enemy

Part 2

“You cannot be serious Daniel,” you huffed out.

Today had been such a great day. It was fall, your favorite season. The crisp yellow and red leaves covered the ground. The cool air wrapped around your body like a blanket. The sweet smell of spiced pumpkin swirled through your apartment. You were perfectly content and nothing could ruin your mood. That was until you came home.

“Daniel..You only call me that when you’re actually angry with me,” Danny laughed at you.

That’s because you were actually angry with Danny, you were furious. Danny’s best friend had been dumped, or rather kicked out. He shared an apartment with his girlfriend who’s name no one had bothered to remember. It was no surprise that no one liked her, he always had a terrible choice in women. He never stuck with them more than a few months, so there was no sense in getting close to any of them even if you wanted to, which you didn’t.

You had no idea how your sweet Danny could be friends with someone like Sam. Samuel Kiszka. Just thinking about him made you sick to your stomach. You hated being around him socially, you only put up with him for Danny. But you would not allow him to be a guest in your home, absolutely not. You would not stand for this. 

Of course Danny would open your home up for Sam. You and Danny had gotten a place together about a year ago. You and Danny were long time friends, anywhere that Danny was Sam was sure to follow. A few years ago you actually considered Sam a close friend of yours, a best friend even. He was sweet and charming. You weren’t blind, he was attractive to say the least. You might have even had something of a crush on him, possibly more than a crush. Somewhere along the lines though, you and Sam grew apart, and by grew apart you meant more like mortal enemies. 

It was around the time that you and Danny decided to move in together. Everything changed after that. At first he just started to be distant in small ways. He didn’t want to hang out as much. He stopped hugging you or holding a conversation with you. Then it became like he did everything in his power to be as far away from you as possible. You had no idea what you had done, anytime that you attempted to get some kind of explanation out of him he did all that he could to get out of the conversation. After a while you gave up on trying to figure out what went wrong. The feelings he had for you became mutual. Ever since then he was your enemy and that was that. It was like you had no history, like you hadn’t been best friends a year ago. 

“Come on Y/n, it won’t even be for that long,” Danny gave you his best doe eyes.

 

“You didn’t even ask me,” you rolled your eyes. You knew Danny would win this. Despite your hate for Sam, you had a weakness for Danny, and he was well aware of this. 

“Because I knew what you would say, you won’t even notice that he’s here.”

“I won’t notice he’s even here? You must be joking. We can hardly stand in the same room together. I give us one night before we kill each other,” you laughed out at him even though you were more than serious.

“Well, he’ll be here any minute so I guess I’ll go hide the knives,” Danny said half jokingly while making his way around the house to check for anything that could be used as a weapon. 

Just as you were hoping that Sam would find literally anywhere else to stay, the door to your apartment swung open. You could feel your blood begin to boil. You watched as he waltzed right in like he owned the place. He shot you a shit eating grin, but didn’t even grant you a simple “hello”. He plopped right down onto your couch.

 “Make yourself at home why don’t you?” you said not even looking in his direction. You were thinking maybe since you were doing him a favor he would treat you with some decency, possibly even thank you for allowing him to stay. Of course you were wrong. He knew you didn’t want him here.

He ignored your presence and started talking with Danny. You weren’t going to let him ruin your night, so you made your way to your room. “Goodnight Danny!” You made sure to only direct your attention to him. “Goodnight Y/n,” Danny called back to you, giving you a light smile.

“What, no goodnight for me, actually not even a hello, maybe a welcome? You wound me Y/n.” Sam dramatically called out. 

“Why welcome you when you’re not really welcome here?” You ignored him and went to bed for the night, sleeping peacefully knowing that Sam was a bit bothered by how well you ignored him. 

You woke up the next morning to the smell of breakfast being cooked. Danny was the chef of the house. You couldn’t make a meal to save your life, so thank goodness for him. You walked into the kitchen wearing an oversize t-shirt and your underwear. This was how you dressed when you were at home. If you were home you were going to be in your comfiest clothes, after all you were just lounging around, no need to be all dressed up. 

“Good Morning Petal,” Danny said as he made you a plate of pancakes. You couldn’t help but to giggle at him. He had gifted you with that nickname after meeting you. You were standing under a tree that had rained flower petals down into your hair, it was cheesy really, but it always made you blush coming from him.

You never understood how someone could be so cheery first thing in the morning. You were the complete opposite, an absolute grouch. You were enjoying your peaceful morning with Danny when the demon emerged from the hallway. Sam didn’t bother looking at you or even greeting you. He fixed his plate of breakfast and sat down by Danny at the bar. The room fell silent, poor Danny tried to make small talk, it was a failed attempt. You could’ve cut through the tension with a knife.

Not a sound was made until you stood up to take your plate to the sink and you heard coughing. You turned around to see what all of the commotion was about. Sam was red faced and trying to get a hold of himself. “Forget how to eat Kiszka?” You did make sure he was alright, not that you would’ve jumped to give him the heimlich. He didn’t give you some snarky comment like he normally would, instead he was looking you up and down. His eyes were glued to you.

You chose to ignore it, thinking that he was just jostled up from choking. Danny didn’t take notice of Sam's weird behavior, he was too busy laughing at him. You cleaned up the kitchen and went to your room to shower and start your day. You went to leave for work, Sam was still sitting at the bar, “Leave any hot water for the rest of us?” 

 

“I left hot water for those of us who actually live here and pay the bills here,” you shot back before walking out of the door. 

You owned a flower shop just fifteen minutes from your house, which was ironic given your nickname from Danny. He hadn’t even known that you owned the flower shop at the time. You actually met Danny, and eventually Sam, because they owned a record store across the street. It was storming one afternoon and you’d only just moved to town and you didn’t know a single person. You had waited for the rain to slack up and walked outside to check on things and bumped into Danny underneath a pink Crape Myrtle tree and he instantly became your first friend. 

Your lunches used to be spent with the three of you, now of course it was just you and Danny. Now anytime you came over to see him you and Sam kept your distance. You assumed that today would be no different, you made your way across the street for your regularly scheduled lunch break with Danny. Oddly enough, instead of Sam’s usual choice of ignoring you he was snarkier than ever. 

“Don’t you have any other friends to spend your lunch with? I mean we see enough of you at home as it is,” Sam called from the back of the store.

“Home? When did you start paying bills?” you retorted. Of course he was going to pick a fight with you. You knew it was going to be even worse with Sam staying at your house.

Sam walked up to the front and had lunch with you and Danny for the first time in at least a year. He continued to do everything in his power to make your blood boil. This was odd behavior to say the least. Danny gave you a weird look with his eyes. You just shrugged, you were dumbfounded. 

When you got home that evening you went straight to your room for the night. Sam wasn’t nice to you or anything, he was snarkier than ever. But for the last year he had done all that he could to make sure that the two of you wouldn’t even breathe the same oxygen and he just sat with you at lunch. Like it was nothing. 

You had almost dozed off when Danny came bursting through your bedroom door. “What are you doing sleeping? It’s our movie night!” 

You had almost forgotten, you and Danny had movie night once a week to unwind and catch up. “That’s right and it’s my turn to pick!”

“Oh shit, maybe I shouldn’t have reminded you, you’ll have us watching something scary or Harry Potter.” 

“Just go start the popcorn and I’ll look for something to watch. We are going to be alone right?” you were praying that you would finally get some alone time with Danny, or just some time without Sam looking around.

“Of course Petal, it’s our movie night just for us I promise,” Danny reassured you.

You finally settled on a movie, Scream, your favorite. You snuggled up into Danny’s arms. You were surprised that he didn’t complain about your choice. After the movie was over you caught up on your week and had some snacks. Danny wanted to watch another movie and you definitely wanted more alone time with him since Sam had been in the way lately. You stayed up almost all night when you both dozed off the couch with the next Scream movie still playing. You and Danny were cozied up, arms around each other, as usual. When you were rudely awakened by the front door slamming and the unmistakable sound of Sam’s huffing and puffing.

“Well isn’t this just adorable,” Sam gestured to you and Danny’s sleeping position, “I must have missed my invite to movie night.”

This had clearly gotten under Danny’s skin, which was very rare. He was always the one to referee you and Sam. He always kept a cool head. “You would have gotten an invite if you were wanted here, but you didn't, did you? Maybe if you were nice to Y/n once in a while, but you just can’t seem to do that.” 

You were shocked that Danny had said that. He was always a ray of sunshine, even when he was angry with someone he never actually spoke up. Sam was just as shocked as you. He was left speechless. You had never seen Sam left without words, he always had a snarky comment ready to fire back. You were happy that he had finally spoken up to Sam, but still dumbfounded with Danny’s response. Sam retreated to his room and stayed there for the rest of the night. 

A few weeks had gone by and things had cooled down. Sam and Danny were perfectly fine as suspected. Danny hadn’t brought anything up and you definitely weren’t about to. Sam hadn’t said a single word to you since that night, which was fine by you. He had gone back to keeping his distance and keeping his snarkiness to himself.

It was their five year anniversary of owning the record store together. Of course they had to throw a party. They always found an excuse to have a party of some sort. You spent the next week helping Danny plan it. It would be at your home of course. 

The night of the party was filled with mostly people you knew. All of them through Danny and Sam. Their brothers Jake and Josh were usually the life of the party and you loved their company. You had gotten pretty close with them when you and Sam were at your closest. Everyone was dancing and mingling and of course drinking. 

You spent most of the night with Danny, the guest of honor. You hadn’t thought of Sam hardly at all over the last few weeks. Even though he was still staying with you and Danny, he kept his distance. But tonight after a few drinks you thought if you went to congratulate him maybe the waters would finally settle around the two of you. You didn’t have much interest in being friends again, but you knew it mattered to Danny. 

You knew he didn’t deserve a moment of your time or breath. You scanned the crowd to find that Sam’s eyes were already on you. You walked over to him, “Hi Sam, I just wanted to say congratulations, I am proud of the both of you.” 

He looked confused that you had even interacted with him, almost stunned, “U-uh thanks Y/n.”

It was silly, but for a moment you swore that you saw the Sam that you used to know and care for. His eyes were softer and kinder, rather than filled with hate and rage. You walked away and spent the rest of the night with Danny and his brothers. After the majority of the crowd cleared out you started to clean up a bit while Danny and Sam said their goodbyes. All that was left was you, Sam, Danny, Jake, and Josh. You all sat around talking and drinking the night away. Once you settled into your safe place, Danny’s arms, you almost dozed off. But you turned when you heard Sam scoff directly at you and abruptly head to his room. He didn’t even speak to his brothers. “What the hell was that about?” Jake drunkenly laughed. 

Danny just shrugged and gave a strange look to everyone. A little bit later you got up to go to the bathroom, passing by Sam’s room on your way. The door was cracked open and you thought heard a voice from inside. You went to make your way to the bathroom, but then you heard your name. Your name followed by moans. You slowly peeped inside to see if your ears were playing tricks on you. They were not. You slid in undetected to see Sam, who supposedly hated you with every bit of his being, with his hand wrapped around his cock. He almost looked beautiful. He looked vulnerable. He looked like the Sam you knew. He was laid down flat on his back, his eyes squeezed shut, and whispering your name to himself while he pleasured himself. You wouldn’t have believed this if you hadn’t seen it for yourself. This brought your mind into a whirlwind of a spin.

You knew it was wrong to watch this intimate moment, but you couldn’t peel your eyes away. You didn’t want to if you were honest with yourself. You slid back out before he could see you. Jake and Josh left and you and Danny eventually fell asleep snuggled together on the couch. You never mentioned what you saw that night. 

Over the next week however, your mind was spinning. You knew that night you had seen just a glimpse of the Sam you used to know, but you definitely did not think that he ever had feelings for you of any kind. It was all that you could think about. That definitely came out of nowhere. 

The next movie night rolled around, Danny had called and said that he would be home a little later. So you sat and waited for him, getting some things done around the house. You realized it was the first time in a few months that you had the house all to yourself. This was the perfect opportunity for some much needed release. You had a lot of energy surging through your mind and body in light of recent events.

You headed for your bedroom eagerly. You removed your clothing and got your little pink vibrator out of your bedside drawer. You laid down onto your back on your bed. You began to rub over your body. You realized it had been a bit since you had had some true time with yourself. You slid your middle finger through your slit to find that you were already soaked. You pumped one finger in and out as you ran your vibrator over your clit. You let the thoughts roll through your mind when your mind started to play tricks on you. At first your mind suddenly went to thoughts of Danny. You would never admit that the thought of him had helped you get off more than once. The way that his curls would look wrapped in your fingers and the way that his muscles would flex around you.

Then your mind shifted to Sam. The images of Danny and Sam having their way with you together. You began to clench around your own fingers deep inside of you. Little whimpers escaping your mouth. Then, the only thing that was running through your mind was Sam. You fought it as long and hard as you could. The way he looked and sounded that night that you walked in on him, it was intoxicating. His bare chest with a thin layer of sweat. His long  brown hair cascading to his shoulders. How sweet he sounded calling out your name while he took himself to the edge. 

It was like you lost all control and began calling out for him just like he had for you. It was pulling you closer and closer to your end. You began screaming his name, your legs shaking uncontrollably as you came. You felt a white hot release and your vision went black. With a heaving chest you opened up your eyes when your breath hitched in your throat. You looked up and in your doorway was an astonished and wet Sam. His eyes wide when they met yours. He had a devilish grin a mile wide plastered onto his face. Your face was red hot by now. You were both silent for a few moments while you were still trying to come down from your high. 

What you saw next stunned you even more. You fully expected him to send a snide comment straight your way. Instead, he took his hand to his face, whipping off your release and brought his fingers to his mouth and releasing them with a ‘pop’. “You taste just as sweet as you look.”

“Sam w-what are you doing?” was all that you could sputter out.

“Well I heard you calling for me and I thought something might be seriously wrong since I’m the last person you would call for. And to my surprise I find you spread out all pretty calling for me while you cum,” he said as if this was just a normal and calm conversation between the two of you.

You were not calm, you were astonished and bewildered. 

“Whatever you were imagining about me though, I bet the real thing is much better,” Sam said as he slid his shirt off and placed himself onto the bed directly beside you. 

You suddenly felt a wave of embarrassment and nerves. You tried to cover yourself with your sheets. Did you even want this? Don’t you hate him? Doesn’t he hate you? You were about to ask a million questions when his warm hand cupped your cheek and his lips met yours. All of the nerves you had felt just a moment ago melted away in an instant. The kiss was slow and sweet at first, then it became dominating. Your teeth were clashing together and your tongues swirled around each other’s mouth. You were exploring each other for the first time. Your hands sliding and grabbing all over one another. You didn’t know what exactly to expect, was this a hate fuck? It was pretty gentle to be a hate fuck.

These thoughts became reality. His hand that once cupped your face so gently made its way to your throat with a tight grip. “Maybe next time I’ll be more gentle with you, but this time I think we both have some aggression we need to release. I’ve wanted this for too long for it to be gentle,” Sam said while he kissed his way to your breasts. 

‘Next time’, you thought to yourself. 

You were already naked, so he made his way around your body easily. You were over sensitive from your first orgasm, which had led to this situation that you were in now. Every kiss and lick that he gifted you with caused lightning to shoot through your body. You had a purple trail from your neck to your stomach. He licked the inside of your thighs and bit down in the most delicious way. He looked at you for approval, you nodded eagerly.

He made his way to your center. He licked one slow agonizing strip before diving into you like a starving man. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you let out the most pornographic moan you had ever heard. He licked and sucked like his life depended on it. He looked up at you and you could feel him grinning as he worked his tongue around your sensitive clit. He was clearly pleased with the effect that he was having on you. He looked gorgeous settled in between your thighs. He knew that he had you on the edge. “Sam, please, I need more.”

“I think that you can do better than that,” he teased.

You knew exactly what he wanted. “Sammy please, give me more, I want to feel you.” He had such a weakness for you calling him ‘Sammy’. Which was all that it took. He slammed two fingers into you. He pumped them quickly in and out of you, curling them up in the most delicious way. He was hitting your most delicious spots. 

You would’ve been almost embarrassed by the wet and lewd noises that he was pulling from you, but you were both far too deep into the pleasure now. Sam looked up at you with dark and lust filled eyes, “I’ve wanted this for so long, you’re being such a good girl for me.”

If you had been in your right state of mind this would’ve shocked you to your core, but you were barely holding on as it was. “Sammy, I-I’m gonna cum, please let me cum.”

“Cum for me baby, be such a good girl for me and cum all over me.”

This was all that it took for you to come undone around him. You tangled your fingers into his long brown hair. You were tugging it so hard that you were sure that you were hurting him. He didn’t seem to mind as he sucked your clit and worked your through your orgasm. You felt another white hot sensation and were sure that you saw stars. When you came to this time, you saw a delightful picture painted out in front of you. Sam was soaking wet from your release and drinking up every little drop. You could’ve cum again at the sight and sound of this. 

He sat up and you helped him remove his constricting pants. When you had seen him some nights ago you didn’t get a chance to see him in all of his glory. Now you could see every perfect inch. The sunlight from your windows was hitting him perfectly. When you pulled down his boxers his cock sprang up slapping his stomach. You had no idea he would be this big. Your eyes almost popped from your skull. It had drops of precum and was throbbing. 

You were basically drooling at the thought of tasting him. You went to take him into your mouth, but he swatted you away. You gave him a confused look. “I want you to baby, but next time. I’m afraid if you did right now I would cum immediately and I need to be inside of you.”

There it was again, ‘next time’, you didn’t have time to analyze this before he was crawling on top of you. He dove his tongue into your mouth and you were overwhelmed with the taste of you and him. He lined his cock up with your entrance. He slowly slid in, giving you time to adjust to the delightful sting of the stretch. He buried himself to the hilt. He only gave you a moment before slamming into you. He set a brutal and forceful pace. He was slamming in and out of you, hitting your g-spot perfectly. The room was filled with the sounds of your skin slapping together and your screams and moans. You loved how vocal he was being with you. You loved the effect that you were having on him. Thank goodness you didn’t have neighbors.

You were both covered in sweat and sex. He pounded into you making you call out wildly for him. He swiped his tongue over your lips and bit down, you were sure that he had drawn blood, but you welcomed the sting of the pain.

He slid his hand down in between your bodies to draw circles over your clit. “B-Baby I need you to cum one more time for me.”

“I don’t think I can Sammy,” you tried not to sound as fucked out as you really were.

“Yes you can baby, I want us to cum together. Please cum for me, I know you can.”

With just a few more circles over your clit you came undone around his cock. You had tears rolling down your face and were screaming his name like never before. You tightened around him while he continued to slam into you. “Oh my god Sammy, I-I’m cumming, don’t stop.”

You felt him fill you up with his release as he moaned your name. He sounded even more beautiful than he did those few nights ago. He was right, it was so much better than anything that you could have imagined. You both laid there for a moment while he went soft inside of you. You looked into his eyes and saw your Sammy. The one that you had been longing for even when you didn’t know it.

He gave you a soft and caring smile. You were just about to try and get some answers when you heard the creak of your floorboards. You looked up to see Danny in your doorway. His cock visibly hard. Just like you had found Sam a bit ago.

“To be two people who hate each other, you seem to have had a lot of fun without me,” Danny said with a lustful smirk.

[whattraintracks]

Look, I know what the people want, okay? The people want a self-indulgent HPI Morgadec rewrite of Castle S4E7.

Yeah, it's me. I'm the people.

Say hello to my newest obsession that I told myself I wasn't going to write fic about but A) I'm a dirty liar, B) I have lots of stuff to procrastinate right now, and C) I just finished all the seasons currently accessible in the US and this is my grieving process.

I don't know who the audience for this is other than myself, but I had a lot of fun writing it and felt like sharing!

Cops & Robbers Pt 1 - Next

Warnings for guns and hostage situations.

[]

"Ugh, Théa. Why did I have to come here?" Morgane trudges up the stairs to the bank with no small amount of disgust.

"Because I needed a ride," Théa repeats for the fourth time since they parked.

"Couldn't you have taken the bus?"

"No."

Théa informs the bank teller she's come to open her own account, and they're led to a cubicle where a man in a poorly fitted suit spouts financial drivel at them. She can't imagine how Théa can listen to a man who says things like, "It's all about interest."

She pops her bubblegum. "And there goes mine." Pushing out of her chair, she stage whispers to Théa. "If you need help, blink twice."

Théa looks supremely unamused, so she shrugs and wanders out of the cubicle. Propping her hip against a table covered in brochures, she settles in to people watch. Except. She's in a bank. No one here is interesting enough to watch. She pulls out her phone, clicking her nails against the case for the two rings it takes him to pick up.

"Karadec speaking."

"Tell me you need me," she begs.

Silence rings on the other end for a moment. He sounds short of breath when he responds, "Pardon?"

"Théa kidnapped me, and now I'm stuck at a bank. Please tell me that there's a murder somewhere I could be solving." She glances around the room. The only person who looks remotely interesting is a man in red scrubs and a trench coat. It's the get-up really. Intriguing, if only for how out of place it is.

Karadec sighs. She bets he's smiling, though. The way he does when he can't help himself. "Ah, no. Sorry. Just paperwork."

"Interesting paperwork?" she presses. Not that she'll help even if it is, but she can sit around the office and talk while everyone else works.

"Standard reports. A lot of them, though." He lowers his voice, and she leans in as if the phone isn't already pressed to her cheek. "Céline has the worst of it. She lost her coffee mug in the mountain of files on her desk."

"Oh gosh," she says, thrilled by his conspiratorial tone, "paperwork and an undercaffeinated Céline? That might even be worse than this place."

He huffs a laugh. "Sorry, Alvaro, you'll have to find stimulation elsewhere today."

She has a witty reply—really, she does—but she gets distracted by the front door swinging open to admit a woman with a surgical mask around her neck. She's wearing indigo scrubs and a trench coat. Like the man she noticed earlier. In fact, she walks past that man and nods as he rubs his nose.

She gasps, "Kara!"

"What?"

"This bank is about to get robbed!"

"What."

She creeps away from the table to hide behind a column, glancing behind her to check on Théa. "There's a man and a woman dressed in scrubs and trench coats. And. They both have suspicious bulges in their jackets."

"Alvaro. You should not sound so excited about this. Where are you?"

She doesn't quite register his question, watching the woman get in line for a bank teller. What was the secret signal for if they aren't doing anything yet? "They must be waiting for someone," she mutters.

A heavy clank has her whirling around to the door, where, sure enough, a third man in scrubs and a surgical mask slams a bike lock on the handles. He turns around, cocking an assault rifle. "Everybody, get down on the floor!"

Her sparked adrenaline bursts into an inferno of fear. Karadec curses, the man's demand no doubt loud enough to carry over the phone.

"Well." She crouches, whispering. "I was right."

"Alvaro, tell me what's happening. Tell me where you are."

The other two robbers pull their masks up, revealing their guns and shouting at everyone to come away from their stations and get on the ground. Morgane tucks her phone against her shoulder, returning to the cubicle and ushering Théa behind the banker's desk. Once out of sight, she rattles off the address. Rubbing a hand down Théa's back does little to soothe her nerves as she hears Karadec tell Gilles to call in the bank robbery.

The female robber tells everyone to slide up their cell phones. Morgane notes her Indian accent but remembers the man who locked the door sounded British. All of them hold their guns confidently, and she starts to get the impression that these people are professionals.

"Alvaro," Karadec prompts.

Théa tries to peek above the desk, but Morgane pushes her back down. A man spots her, staring wide-eyed at the phone pressed to her ear. She gestures desperately at him to keep quiet. He hesitates. Then nods.

"Morgane!" Karadec says urgently.

She gulps, "I'm here."

"Is Théa with you?"

"Yes." She turns to look into her daughter's frightened eyes.

"Good. Stay together. Can you tell me what's happening?"

"Right, yeah." She takes a breath, looking back over the desk. "We're hidden, but I can see everything. The robbers are in scrubs. One is emptying the cash drawers. Another is going for the bank manager." She pauses, watching the robber in red. "He's got the manager's key, and he's going to the back."

"Okay. That's good, Morgane. Do you know how many there are?"

"Three," she replies confidently. "And they all have—"

Théa gasps beside her, and she freezes at the sound of a gun cocking behind her.

She brings a hand to her mouth, confidence shattered by the metal pressed against her skull. She fights through her trembling lips to tell Karadec, "Make that four."

Karadec falls silent, as does the rest of the room, when the robber behind her declares, "So you're the hero I'm going to make an example of."

The other three robbers turn to the man behind her and she realises he must be their leader. Because Morgane couldn't just piss off any old criminal with a gun, she had to go and piss off the criminal in charge.

Her phone is pulled out of her hand, and a tall man in light blue scrubs steps around to face her. "Sorry," he says into the phone, "Your friend can't talk right now."

Before he can hang up, Karadec's voice rings out, "I wouldn't worry about her. You should worry about yourself. I've got patrol cars on their way."

"Supercop?" Théa whispers hopefully. Morgane nods slightly, tucking her daughter under her arm.

The man pulls up short. "You're a cop?" He says into the phone, then turns to her with a glimmer of agitation in his eyes. "You called a cop?"

"Of course not." He raises his gun to her face. "I swear!" she yelps, "We were on the line before you came in."

"Listen to me." Karadec draws the robber back in with a voice she's heard in dozens of interrogations. "So far, nobody's hurt, and nothing's been stolen. If you leave the way you came in, you can just disappear."

The robber scoffs, "And what? You'll promise not to come looking for me?"

Karadec's voice tips into something cold and sharp that sends ice down her spine. "I won't look for you. I will hunt you down. And trust me, you don't want that. So leave now, and this'll be a blip in the evening news."

Morgane stares into the barrel of the gun as the robber considers Karadec's threat.

Finally, he chuckles, "Sorry. Supercop, was it? I'd rather make headlines." He crushes her phone beneath his heel, and she laments how much it'll cost to replace it as he drags her and Théa to their feet.

But Karadec—swift, reliable Karadec—wasn't bluffing about the patrol cars. The four robbers turn in unison at the sound of sirens approaching.

"Alright, doctors." Their robber pushes her and Théa into the center of the room with the rest of the—oh gosh, they're officially hostages now. "We trained for this. You know what to do."

She stumbles to the ground, dizzied by everything that's just happened. Her thoughts sluggish amid the muffled tears and harsh breaths from her fellow hostages, the shouted orders backed up by guns, and the police lights and sirens muted by thick, frosted windows.

Théa reaches for her hand.

[rmd-writes]

Tag Game Tuesday Wednesday: 911 Lone Star Fandom Edition

Tagged by @liminalmemories21 and @freneticfloetry thanks, and good timing! You both caught me on my lunch break

When did you first start watching Lone Star? Who or what introduced you to the show?

I can't remember the exact timing, but I'm pretty sure I watched the first two seasons while s3 was airing and then caught up after - I wanted to start earlier but I had some issues finding a way to watch the show here!

My introduction to the show was via @three-drink-amy telling me to watch it (repeatedly), @clottedcreamfudge's judicious use of gifs from the show in the gc and a bunch of SC mutuals yelling about the gay howdy wee woo show on my dash every week.

Season 4 was the first season that I watched "live" which I did with @welcometololaland, both of us texting and screaming as we watched each episode together hours and hours after everyone else had.

Which season is your favorite?

Season 3, hands down. I don't know that they'll ever beat it?

Who is your favorite character? (Bonus: If you answered TK or Carlos, who is your favorite besides them?)

Other than Carlos and TK, I think it's Grace. I just adore the her energy and the way that she takes everything in her stride and even when things are hard, she's very practical about it. Also she doesn't take shit from anyone.

Top five episodes. Go!

I don't think I've ever tried to do this? I'm generally very bad at choosing, my SC fave ep list contains three episodes that I insist must be watched together so they only count as one ep hahahaha Anyway, in no particular order, and not necessarily by episode title or number because I can't be arsed looking them up:

Push, my beloved

3 x 13

the one with Lou

Bad Call

the Soulmates one

Bonus: the Marjan ep in s4 which was just so, so good

If you could pick any character to be given a "begins" episode, who would it be and what would that episode look like?

Either Nancy because we know nothing about her and I want to know, or Paul because I think he's had such an interesting journey.

What is a scenario or storyline that you would like to see in season 5?

I love @liminalmemories21's idea of a Halloween ep! It would be so fun!

We probably won't get it because of the shorter season, but I'd love more Lonestar-is-a-comedy-actually episodes like Red vs Blue and the (original) Lou arc.

More realistically, I'd love to see Carlos actually grappling with the consequences of his actions in s4 and also working through his grief and TK helping him do that. And I'd like to see an absence of Owen love interests.

What do you think is going on in this still?

I want it to be something silly like Lou 2 is lost in the loft and Carlos is Not Happy about it (the reason for TK's posture) and then he answers his phone in the middle of all of that, hence the facial expression. The phone call isn't that important, it's Owen asking Carlos for help on a side quest.

We all know about the elusive 5x05 spicy scene that has been teased, so what is your prediction for how it could possibly top 1x02?

I don't know about a prediction, but I'd love to see them getting distracted from getting ready in the morning. Carlos (in just his underwear) waking TK up with a kiss and TK pulling him back into bed for a good make out session and that turning into more. A very different vibe to 1x02 but hot nonetheless.

Where was the Tarlos honeymoon in your mind?

I think it was somewhere close to home - with the accelerated wedding timeline (lol) they didn't have time for a long trip for to somewhere far away, and by all accounts, travelling overseas wasn't on their radar anyway (see: TK's disbelief when Carlos says he wants to go to Tuscany). So a long weekend at a nice resort somewhere. Enzo paid for it as their wedding gift because he couldn't make it to the wedding when they moved the date up.

Shoutout one of your favorite fan creations.

Just one (1)? Impossible! This Rafa fan art by @ambiguouspenny made me actually say "oh fuck" the first time I saw it. I adore the way @whatsintheboxmh uses light in all of her fan art. I love @howtosingit's Carlos episode edits because they a) let me watch all of the Tarlos scenes on repeat (and before I actually get to the watch the episodes when they air because time zones), b) give me an easy way to check canon dialogue and c) make it easy to convince new people to watch the show when they sneak into my DMs and tell me that the number of Tarlos gifs I am putting on their dash is tempting them. @liminalmemories21's Knave-verse might be my favourite Tarlos AU, everything about it makes me swoon. Okay, cutting myself off now.

Tagging: @welcometololaland @howtosingit @three-drink-amy just so they know my earlier tags in this post were tags to do this and also @lightningboltreader @orchidscript

@danieljradcliffe @guardian-angle22 @reasonandfaithinharmony @alrightbuckaroo

@cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @nancys-braids @heartstringsduet and anyone else who wants to play 💖 PS. if ao3 user olympia2007 is here on tumblr, I'm tagging you too (and please come say hi)

[bluestar22x]

Finding Eden: Chapter 5

Summary: You and Zach seek shelter and realize your feelings

Pairing: Zach Wellison x F!Reader

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Pining, romantic revelations, smut (unprotected/pull-out method), mentions of cum, fluff, fowl language

Word Count: 4,250(ish)

Author's Note: This took me longer to write than I wanted it to, but I'm so excited about this chapter for obvious reasons.

xxx

You thought it was a mirage at first, the distant cabin a brown blob that appeared and disappeared with the snow that was being wildly blown every which way by the whirling wind.

Caught in a snowstorm for days, despite the winter gear you'd collected over the last few weeks, you and Zach were unbearably cold and starving, the seasonal weather making it more and more difficult for you to keep comfortable and find enough food.

Athena fared better than either of you did in the elements, but inside the tent, in the middle of the night, you could hear her stomach rumbling just as loudly as yours was.

Signs of human civilization, or what was once, had been few and far in between since December began, and it only got worst as you entered the pristine wilderness along the British Columbia/Yukon border.

When you realized the cabin wasn't in your head you grabbed Zach's arm by the elbow and pointed it out. He was as relieved as you were to find it, but apprehensive. You wouldn't be able to stay long if you couldn't find food in the area or the cabin itself.

"At least we'll have shelter from the storm," you said as you approached the front door.

"At least," he agreed, twisting the handle.

The door didn't budge.

"It's locked."

Zach took a knife out of his pack and shattered its window without hesitance.

"Hopefully there's some nails around to help repair that," you commented.

"It was that or spend another night freezing outside," Zach told you as he walked into the cabin. "And there's a fireplace."

You barged in, gaping at the fireplace in the center of the decently sized cabin. "Holy shit! Now I'm convinced I'm dreaming."

Zach chuckled. "Want me to pinch you?"

"You'd better not," you warned, wandering around the place to examine the rest of the interior.

The cabin had a three room set up, the main room acting as a kitchen and living room combined, the second smaller room a bedroom with one twin bed, and a tiny bathroom that was squeezed between them. It wasn't anything to brag about, but it was much better than the tent.

"Looks like we can stay a while," Zach declared over his shoulder and you turned to join him in the kitchen, finding him standing by the cooking stove, pantry open. Over two dozen cans of a variety of foods were lined up inside.

"Unbelievable," you murmured before breaking out into a grin. "Dibs on the beef stew."

"There's more than one," he pointed out.

"I know."

He huffed. "Fine. I'm not big on it anyway."

He headed for the door and you frowned. "Where are you going?"

"There must be an axe around here somewhere," he replied. "I'm going to collect some wood and get a fire going so we don't have to eat cold food. Could cover the broken window with some of the pieces."

You nodded. "I'll see what else I can find in here while you do that."

He tipped his head back at you and glanced down at Athena, who was still standing on the doormat, shaking lingering snow off her body. "Stay here. Blijf."

She woofed quietly and let him by, watching him go just as you did.

Once he'd left, you started rummaging for supplies in the kitchen. There wasn't much besides the cans, some old water bottles and a twelve pack of beer that was probably too old to be any worth drinking. You'd smelled expired beer before. It had been truly awful.

You had better luck with non-kitchen items. There were several throw blankets in a storage bin by the two person couch that was facing the fireplace, medical and grooming supplies of all kinds in the bathroom, and a pocket lighter in the night stand alongside...

A pack of unopened condoms.

You felt your cheeks heat up, not because you were prudish, but rather because your first thought seeing them involved Zach. That he could probably use them.

With who? It's not like he's interested, you reminded yourself for the thousandth time.

You quickly snatched up the lighter and shut the drawer, heading back to the living room to throw yourself down on the couch. It was cold despite being made of fabric, but it was comfortable, well worn in a good way.

You'd have helped Zach outside, but you were wiped out, and what was supposed to be just two minutes of rest on the couch turned into something much longer when you dozed off and only stirred when he reentered the cabin.

"You won't believe what I found outside the shed out back," he said as he stomped snow off his boots at the door.

You rubbed your eyes and stood. "You found multiple axes?"

"Better."

He reached out for the main light switch by the door and flicked it on. To your astonishment the yellow light fixture above you activated.

Zach beamed at the stunned expression that formed on your face. "We have electricity. And running water, as long as the pipes haven't frozen yet."

"How?"

"There's a generator," he told you, some excitement, hope, seeping into his voice. "And there's propane to refill it once it runs out. Enough for most of the winter if we're mindful of how much we use it."

As if to lead by example, he shut the light back off.

"I'll shut it completely once we're all settled in here."

"Are we thinking of staying the whole winter?" you inquired, raising your eyebrows.

He shrugged. "There's a lake out back. Fishing poles in the shed. If I can find some success in ice fishing, maybe. It would delay us, but it would be safer. If Eden exists, it'll be there in the spring."

You nodded. He was right, and you weren't in a rush. Time was one of those few commodities you had, after all.

"Anything else in the bag?"

Zach smiled a little mischievously and pulled an artificial spruce tree out of his pack. It was barely a foot tall and ran on batteries, seeing that he was able to turn on the multi-colored lights without plugging the decoration into the wall. There were only ten lights and they only came in red and green.

"No way!" you laughed. "That is the saddest Christmas tree I've ever seen outside Charlie Brown's! It's kinda cute."

"You mentioned last week that you miss Christmas," Zach said. "I found this in the shed in an insulated storage bin. Figured since we'll be at the cabin through the rest of December, at the very least, why not bring it inside?"

You beamed at him, warmth spreading through your chest at his thoughtfulness. "Thanks. Let's set it over the fireplace?"

"Right in the center of everything," he noted approvingly. He centered the tree on the stone top of the fireplace and stepped back so you could both take in the view.

"Perfect," you declared at the same time as he did, leading you both to glance at each other then laugh off the tense moment.

Tense because you'd both let your eyes wander to each other's lips, and you'd both noticed. There was no question.

You backed away, needing time to absorb the new information you'd just gathered. "I'm gonna go check if the water's working. Cause if it is, I'm showering."

Zach nodded. "I've got to start the fire, so I'll wait. But after I get that going and I stack the extra logs I cut up, it's my turn."

"Won't get argument from me there," you said teasingly as he walked back out, knowing full well you smelled just as bad as he did, though not as bad as Athena.

You ripped your least offensive clothes out of your pack, a navy blue sweater, a pair of jeans, and undergarments, then charged for the bathroom, shutting it quickly behind you. Athena, who had slipped in with you, watched with a curious look on her face as you turned the sinks' handle and jumped for joy when water started flowing out.

It wasn't long before you'd stripped down and stepped into the shower. It was lukewarm at best, but it was running water, and the pressure wasn't even half bad. You took a minute to soak in the shower head spray then hesitantly hurried to shampoo your hair and scrub your body with a proper wash cloth and body wash. It was Old Spice, but you didn't care. It smelled better than you had in a long time. It felt amazing to get that clean again.

While you were rinsing yourself off you even dragged an unsuspecting Athena into the stand up shower and washed her off with some of the shampoo, something she didn't appreciate very much, whining and trying to get away the entire time.

"Big, bad, military dog," you teased as you struggled to keep her in the shower long enough for the water to wash the suds out of her fur. "Who knew you'd be scared of a little water?"

After you both were all set you released her and wiped yourself up with a towel before drying her off as well.

"Don't go rolling in shit tomorrow, okay?" you said sternly. "This is the only towel getting dog fur on it, you hear?"

Athena barked like she understood and you turned away from her to focus on getting dressed and brushing your teeth with one of the spare toothbrushes hidden in the top sink drawer before opening the door back up.

Your eyes immediately found Zach standing by the lit fireplace, observed how he waved his strong hands in front of the flames and you were struck by how handsome he was once more, especially in the orange glow of the flames, even with the scruffy beard he'd been sporting since winter had begun.

You really needed to talk to him soon. Clear things up between you two, even if it was awkward. Knowing he felt something too, having seen the desire in his eyes as he studied your lips, it changed things.

You had to know if he wanted more than friendship with you. If he was interested in taking things to the next level, and if it wouldn't be just a brief physical act. You couldn't be a no strings attached person. You weren't built that way. Either you'd be a couple or you wouldn't be.

It wasn't time to ask though, not yet.

"Your turn."

Zach looked up at you quickly then down at the dejected wet dog at your heels. He smirked. "I see Athena wasn't spared."

"She sleeps with us," you told him. "No way she was escaping it."

"Just glad I didn't have to do it," he said as he passed you to enter the bathroom, his pack in hand.

"You should be grateful," you called over your shoulder. You reached down and scratched the top of Athena's head. "But it was worth it, right, girl? Don't you feel better?"

The dog glanced up at you with an almost incredulous expression on her face.

You chuckled. "Come on, let's go warm up on the couch together."

x

The shower was more refreshing than Zach could've hoped, remembered, really. The last time he'd used one had been in his trailer back in California, and he'd started to forget what it was like to freshen up indoors rather than in a river or lake.

The warm water running trails down his body relaxed him, let his mind wander. But ever since he'd met you, whenever it did, all he could think about was you.

He finally had his answer, the look in your eyes had been undeniable, but he didn't know what to do with that. It wasn't like he could ask you out on a date. You were already living twenty-four hours a day with each other, even shared the same sleeping quarters. And yet he didn't want to dive straight in for a kiss. He just had to wait for the right opportunity, he figured. Let it all happen organically.

Zach stepped out of the shower and dried off, clawing at his beard after he'd done so.

It was time to shave the damn thing. He'd kept it for wind protection but if they were going to stick around the cabin for a while, and since they had so much supplies on hand because of it, it was no longer useful in his eyes.

He'd let it get too long for the razor though, and the bathroom mirror was missing. He'd have to ask you to trim it with scissors before using one of his razors on it to keep it from dulling. It wouldn't be the first time you'd done him that particular favor, so no big deal, right?

Dressed in the cleanest plaid shirt he had, maroon and white checkered, and blue jeans he exited the bathroom with damp hair he'd yet brushed down and a pair of scissors in his right hand.

He found you sitting on the couch with Athena by your side, sharing what was left of a can of beef stew you'd heated up in the microwave with her, allowing the dog to eat from the bowl once you'd had your share.

"Oh, I see, I can't have the beef stew but the dog can," he teased.

You rolled your eyes at him, but you were smiling. "I left you a bowl of your own on the counter, big baby."

His expression turned grateful. "You didn't have to do that."

You shrugged. "It was a big can. I'm not used to eating portions like that anymore."

Zach knew it was more than that, but didn't press. "Before I get to that, can you trim my beard?"

"Getting itchy?" you inquired knowingly.

He nodded and you patted the spot next to you on the couch that had been vacated by Athena in her search for the water bowl you'd put out for her.

He took the offer, sitting down and turned slightly towards you so you had easier access to both sides of his face.

He avoided your eyes as you worked, not wanting to be tempted, drawn in by them. You were doing him a simple favor a friend would do, nothing more. He didn't want to take advantage of your close proximity; it didn't matter that you shared feelings for him.

He didn't expect you to reach out and tug at his wavy hair almost absentmindedly midway through the process.

His eyes met yours questioningly when you did so.

"While I'm at it, do you want me to trim your hair?" you asked. "It's getting over your ears."

He cleared his throat, it suddenly having gone dry. "Uh, yeah, that would be good."

It took a few extra minutes, but was worth it. In the end, even without having yet shaved his face smooth, he was feeling a whole lot more like himself and not so much like the caveman he'd felt like he was becoming.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

The tension between you was almost palpable.

He broke it by standing up and returning to the bathroom to finish the job, leaving you alone with the scissors still in hand.

x

Once Zach had disappeared back into the bathroom to finish his grooming, you stood to bring the empty bowl you'd shared with Athena into the kitchen to rinse it out and label it as her official food bowl, not keen on the idea of using it after she had, no matter how cute she was.

You had time to shove Zach's cooling bowl of stew into the microwave before you heard her whining at the door and had to let her outside to do her business.

Waiting for both Zach and Athena, you busied yourself in the bedroom by unpacking some of the items you'd need that night and shaving your armpits, the only place on your body you still shaved even after the world ended. It just didn't feel right to let it grow out, even after having gotten used to your legs being unshaved.

Zach reappeared before Athena, clean shaven for the first time in weeks, just as you returned to the living room.

"How does it look?" he inquired, arms spread out in that what-do-you-think gesture.

"Good," you replied, giving him a thumb up. You secretly thought Zach looked good no matter if he had facial hair or not.

He approached you and rubbed his cheek. "Did I miss any spots? I didn't take my knife out to use as a mirror."

Without thought you boldly reached out to grab his face and examine it.

"No rough spots," you concluded, your eyes happening to meet his again.

His gaze was more intense than you’d ever seen it before. Your breath caught. "Zach..."

His lips were on yours without a moment's notice, already moving against them, needily. You responded in kind, thrown by the suddenness of it, but excited that it was actually happening. It felt a little surreal after all the time you'd spent around him, fantasied about him, all while assuming he did not feel the same way.

Zach deepened the kiss languidly, savoring the taste of you as his hands wandered up the length of your clothed spine, and you hummed happily, completely and utterly focused on his pleasant touch. His hands were so warm and broad like his shoulders, his mouth soft.

When you eventually dared to break the kiss, you grinned at him. "I've wanted that for a long time."

He ran his hands up your arms to hold them at the elbow and nodded. "Me too."

"Really?" you questioned, head tilting back slightly. "It's not just because I'm the only woman you've seen in months?"

He shook his head and caressed the edge of your lower jaw with the fingertips of his right hand. "Far from it. I've been admiring you from the start. Always thought you were strong and beautiful."

You scoffed. "Strong? You've had to protect me from the moment we met."

"You survived alone for a time before that," he pointed out, "And you refused give up when those men attacked you, even though you were outnumbered. You also took care of me when I got shot, and you have never complained once about your feet being sore the entire time we've been traveling together, even when you got that blister on your toe."

"Only cause I didn't want to slow you down or give you a reason to leave me behind," you admitted.

Zach traced your lips with the pad of his thumb and his expression turned dead serious. "I would never."

The deep tone to his words sent heat coursing through your body. You crushed your lips against his and pulled yourself to him as he lead you backwards towards the couch, to the nearest comfortable spot to lay down.

You pressed a palm to his chest when you felt the back of your knees brush against the solid furniture and gazed into his bright eyes, searching them for intent. "Zach, if we do this," you said a little breathlessly, "I won't be able to keep my feelings out of it. I can't..."

He cupped your chin gently, interrupting you. "I won't either; I don't want to," he promised.

You believed him, heard the sincerity in his voice, saw it in his dark yet expressive orbs. You bridged the gap between you two to kiss him again and what came next was a blur as you almost frantically peeled off each other's layers of clothing before letting yourselves fall onto the couch, Zach hovering above you, supporting his upper body with one hand as the other slid slowly down your bare skin, making its way between your thighs.

You parted your legs readily as he felt you there, pressed his thumb against your sensitive bundle of nerves and crooked two of his other thick fingers inside you, the sensations you felt from the contact making you buck into his touch, urging you to seek more contact, more friction, harder.

You stared up at him as you fell apart by his calloused hands alone, and he covered your mouth with his greedily. You could feel how tense his body was against yours, could feel his stiff length brushing against your center, and a thrill passed through you knowing how much making you feel good had turned him on.

You embedded your fingers in the hair at the back of his head and you folded your legs over his lower back, securing them around his waist and tilting your hips up invitingly. "Zach..."

"You want me?" he asked.

You nodded feverishly. "Yes." The desperate tone in your voice had him groaning and he wasted no time lining his body up with yours, eyes still on your face.

With a gentle roll of his hips he buried himself inside you, stretching you out so perfectly you whined, a sound that compelled him to seek out your mouth again as his free hand found your lower back. He helped you arch up towards him as he began thrusting into you, eyes scanning your face for every micro reaction you had to his movements.

A quiet moan slipped from you and you squeezed your eyes shut, focusing on the glorious friction he was generating. It was like second nature for you to move your body in time with his, taking him in satisfyingly deep.

Being connected to him that way, so intimately, that was why you had followed Zach, why you had ignored your blister and kept putting one foot in front of the other. It wasn't just because you had hope for tomorrow, or because you simply refused to give up and die. It was also because even without Eden's existence, life wasn't void of good things, stolen moments, even after the apocalypse.

The friendship you'd had with Zach had been good, would have ultimately been enough, but having something more with him, to be the one he desired, the one who got to see him slowly fall apart, neck straining as he fought against giving into his ecstasy before you could come a second time, that was dreamy. For the first time in a long time you didn't feel like you were just surviving.

You canted your hips even more and your breath hitched when the new angle allowed Zach to nudge the special spot inside you head on, making your toes curl.

In the past, when you'd been intimate with other men, it had taken a fair amount of time before you got anywhere close to your breaking point, but not that night, not with Zach.

Maybe it was because of the dreams you'd had, maybe it was because of all you'd been through together, or maybe it was because he was really that good, but whatever the case, Zach's steady pace wound you up at an intoxicating speed, the pleasure overwhelming you, causing you to desperately claw at his smooth back with your blunt, chewed up nails.

You dug them in when you finally crested, a drawn out moan accompanying the waves of bliss.

You opened your eyes back up in time to see Zach quickly remove himself from you to find his own release, clenched jaw going slack as his body shuddered, as he called out your name, voice raspy, his heaved breaths tickling your neck. He took a moment to wipe up the cum that was dripping down your thigh, his, with the undershirt he'd discarded earlier, then molded himself back to your body, resting his head on your chest.

You weaved your fingers with his and he stared up at you, eyelids drooping, heavy now that he was spent. Your stomach flipped at how sweet he looked, his expression soft, more relaxed than you thought him capable of.

"It's been a long time since I had someone like you in my life," he admitted drowsily. "It's nice."

"Just nice?" you questioned playfully.

He chuckled lightly. "More than."

He was about to dose off in your arms, your hands roaming his lean body absentmindedly, when whining and persistent scratching at the front door startled you both out of your peaceful trances.

You'd totally forgotten Athena was still outside. You were immediately grateful she hadn't interrupted beforehand.

Zach groaned loudly and pushed himself up onto his feet. "I'll get her."

He strolled over to the door in all his naked glory and wrenched it open, letting in a blast of cold air he made sure to avoid by hiding behind the door. "Come on in. Hurry up."

Athena shot inside, shaking her body furiously as soon as Zach shut the door behind her, trying to rid herself of the melting snow in her short coat.

"Glad you didn't run into anything bad out there, but you couldn't have waited a little longer?" he asked her, eyes narrowing.

"Better now than a few minutes earlier," you reasoned as you tugged the couch blanket over your body to keep warm.

He pursed his lips. "True."

"Besides, you have soup in the microwave," you added. "You need to eat it before it rots. And you need to turn off the generator for the night before we waste too much fuel."

"And what are you going to do?" he inquired, lips pulling back humorously.

"Clean up the sticky mess that you left on my thigh."

You were pretty sure you heard Zach growl at your statement.

You smirked. Mission accomplished.

xxx

Dutch to English Translation:

Blij = Stay

xxx

Tagged: @morallyinept @harriedandharassed @love-affair-with-fandoms @captain-jebi

xxx

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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[alittlextrathatway]

Line: "There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have." Location: hotel room

Part 2 of my HGTV AU

You can find part 1 here.

***

Their season premiere is set for next Monday and they've had this round of daytime talk show interviews scheduled for months. Matt knew he'd be sharing a hotel room with Sylvie and had plenty of time to prepare. It would go the way it always did. He would insist she take the bed, despite all of her determination not to, and then find himself somewhere else to sleep.

Luckily, this time they were in New York for a full week and the network had sprung for a suite with a pull out couch. In the early days of their show, he'd had to pile up extra pillows in a bathtub more than a few times. A pull out couch wasn't great but it was better than a porcelain tub.

He had emotionally prepped himself for being allowed to be physically close to her during the day while being apart from her at night. In the interest of maintaining his standing as a courteous and considerate person, that distance was important. Sylvie's comfort always came first.

But what he hadn't prepared himself for was watching the cohost of 'Great Morning USA' blatantly flirt with Sylvie during the commercial breaks of the live broadcast. The man, Greg Grainger, flirted like he knew the truth of their relationship -- like it was obvious she and Matt weren't really a couple. He knows that can't be. The network would've been on their asses if that were so. No, it must be that Greg is a moron and an asshole.

Matt hates him before the first interview question is even asked. On camera, he manages to be perfectly pleasant, but once the cameras are off all of his carefully crafted filters fail him. It's true. Matt can't have Sylvie, but as long as they're pretending to be engaged Grainger can't either. Not only that, but he's not really with Sylvie. He has no reason to be jealous. And yet...

He's snappish and curt and generally hostile toward the Greg Grainger all morning. To his shame, Sylvie witnesses all of it while pointing more than a few scolding glares his way. It doesn't stop him from treating Grainger like the gum he stepped on the sidewalk outside the airport yesterday. It should. What Sylvie thinks of Matt means everything to him -- has from almost the moment they met -- but today he has no energy to adjust his behavior. It is what it is.

She huffs from her side of the hotel elevator. There's a gulf of space between them since she's pushed herself into the furthest corner, arms folded over her chest with a cross look on her face. The silence that's grown between them is oppressive. He doesn't know what to say to explain himself and even if he did...it doesn't seem like Sylvie wants to hear it.

When the doors open she stomps ahead of him, busying herself with pulling their hotel room keycard out of her purse. He should say something. At least try to apologize. Even though he's not entirely positive he's sorry. For all Grainger knew, he was flirted with an unavailable woman.

But that's beside the point at the moment.

"Sylvie, I--"

"Nope, save it for inside. We do not need anyone else overhearing the fight that's about to happen."

Fight? Ah, shit. He's really stepped in it this time. He presses his lips together and nods, head bobbing as the door finally opens. She holds the door open and motions him ahead of her. Once they're both inside she closes the door and turns the lock. He gulps anxiously.

Looks like they're in for a cage match.

Fan-freaking-tastic.

"What the hell was that?" She asks, throwing her purse down on the couch. "You were antagonistic with Greg the entire morning."

"Oh, it's Greg, is it? You guys are best buddies now?" He regrets the words the second they leave his lips. Why can't he keep his mouth shut today?

"I see. This is about him flirting with me?"

Matt glances away from her, shamefully staring at his shoes.

"Did you notice how I didn't flirt back?"

Yes, he did. He wondered about that. She could have -- off camera anyway. "Didn't stop him from trying."

She rolls her eyes at him and heaves a weary breath. "You know, lots of women flirt with you every damn day and I never act like this. I don't turn childish and petty. Ever."

Yeah, well, the difference between them as far as that goes should be obvious. He's in love with her. She isn't in love with him. All because her ex-fiance is a cheating asshole who let her former best friend steal all of Sylvie's clients. These days, she's too spooked to mix business and pleasure. At first, he agreed with her. Gabby left him with a mess to clean up and if Sylvie hadn't come along he's not sure he would've made it through. But over the years, he began to wish he never agreed with her on the "Business vs. Pleasure" pact. It completely backfired. He's head over heels in love with a woman and he can't do a damn thing about it.

"I don't think we can compare the two," he mutters, grabbing a beer out of the minibar. If they're gonna have one of their once a year fights then he's gonna need a drink.

"Oh no? And why's that?" she asks, taking the unopened beer bottle out of his hands. Finding the bottle opener, she pops the top and then takes a big swig before handing it back to him. "Because 'boys will be boys'? Because men have made dick-measuring contests socially acceptable displays of aggression?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Matt asks, face pinching in disgust and confusion. "When have I ever used the justification of 'boys will be boys'? You know that's not me."

"That seemed to be you today."

"No, it wasn't."

"Then what was it? Because it sure seemed like you were pissed off at the appearance of him trying to take something that everyone thinks is yours. Your manly pride couldn't take the blow. Nevermind that our romantic relationship has always been for show."

"Oh for fucks sake," Matt exclaims with a bitter chuckle. "My attitude toward Greg had nothing to do with my manly pride and everything to do with you."

"Me?" She asks, brow furrowing and voice raising in outrage. "What did I do?"

"Nothing! You did nothing except sit there and be the gorgeous, charming and effortlessly generous woman I've been in love with for over two damn years! It was all me, okay? All me and my stupid insecurities because I know you don't love me and you would probably be happier if we'd never decided to play along with this stupid fake engagement. But we did and now I'm sitting next to you ruining everything for you and I've put off trying to fix it because I'm a selfish asshole who didn't want you to leave."

He's panting by the time his outburst is over. There wasn't a whole lot of breathing happening during his rant and he's feeling it now. Also...what the ever loving fuck did he just do? It almost feels like he lost consciousness while he was yelling. He remembers it but none of it is clear. There's a panicked haze covering his awareness.

Shit! Shit, shit, shit. Shit!

Did he just blow up his entire lift before taking even one sip of his beer? Yep, seems likely.

"You...you love me?" Sylvie asks, eyes wider than he's ever seen them.

He could take it back. It wouldn't look great, but he could do it. There's a moment where he debates whether or not he should, but while it might save him a small amount of face it would be a lie. He's never lied to Sylvie and he doesn't want to start now. "I realize my timing is screwed up and you'd rather not mix our personal and professional lives. I'm not expecting you to--"

She cuts off his attempt at letting her off the hook. "Matt, stop. Just answer me."

He swallows thickly and nods, meeting her big curious eyes. "Yeah--yes. I do. I love you. I have for a long time."

Sylvie's eyes water and her hands cover her mouth. Just when he thinks he's destroyed everything they've built over the last three years, she laughs. No, not laughs -- giggles. It's a wild, disbelieving, high pitched giggle. The last time he heard it, she was drunk off her ass. She's a lightweight sure, but one sip of beer isn't going to get her drunk. That can't be what caused it this time.

When her hands fall from her face, she's beaming at him so hard and wide that her eyes look like little half moons. It's honestly fitting considering she's glowing as if she's the only star in the middle of a long and dark night. Jesus, he loves her so much she makes his chest ache for no real reason at all.

"I love you too."

He goes still, unable to process the words that left her lips. "What?"

"I love you too," she repeats, taking the beer bottle out of his hand a second time. This time setting it down on a coaster. "I have for a long time."

It's the mimicking of his own words that finally does it. Everything clicks into place. He breeches the small space between them and yanks her forward by the pockets on her well pressed black blazer. She laughs and lets herself fall into him, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. "You love me," he states, needing her to confirm it one last time.

She nods. "And you love me."

"I do. I truly do."

"Good," she states, releasing a slow, relieved breath. "You should probably kiss me now."

"Oh, so the cage match is over?" He asks, teasingly.

She grins wickedly, leaning forward until her nose bumps against his. "Yep, and I won."

"I'd argue the point," he begins. "But I'd really like to stay out of the doghouse."

"Matt, shut up and kiss me."

"Yes, ma'am. Copy that."

When his lips find hers, every muscle in his body relaxes. The holes in his heart, leftover from years of neglect, fill in and start to heal as her lips part for him. This kiss is better than any he's had before. Sylvie's giving it everything she's got, grasping the hair on the nape of his neck and pushing herself flush against him. Tongues tangle and taste, hands wander, blazers and jackets are dropped to the floor. He guides her down to the couch, pressing her back into the cushions while he stretches over her.

They still have a lot to figure out -- like how are they going to proceed with the network, what do their feelings mean for their professional relationship, and does he still have to sleep on the pull out?

But all of that can wait for a while. Right now, he wants to enjoy this moment with her and revel in the possibilities. They love each other, and that's all that matters. They'll figure out the rest later -- the way they always have.

Together.