#also jack fairy looking hip as fuck

[curtwildseyeliner]

Velvet Goldmine (1998) dir. Todd Haynes

[archangeldyke-all]

i’m so excited for halloween. i love all things fall/october.

could you write an autumn fic? 🍂

more specifically— i feel like the reader would have to force sev to wear some kinda costume for halloween >:) how do you think sev x reader would dress up? how would they spend their night together? ly mootie! ♡

my city's in the middle of a heat wave and it's HUMID too, it's horrible-- so yes, let's think about fall for a while hehehehe

men and minors dni

there is no doubt in my mind that fall's her favorite season.

and i think halloween is probably her favorite holiday too.

she's not a festive person, so even though she loves fall, she doesn't really indulge herself in things like decorating or baking.

but you do.

sevika doesn't realize how much she loves fall until she meets you. because you treat fall like it's your birthday or something. sevika's shocked to see how much you incorporate her favorite season into your day to day life. and even more surprising, she's shocked to find that she kind of loves it.

as the leaves start to change, you start making her coffee pumpkin flavored, sometimes adding a bit of hazelnut and cinnamon too. she fucking loves it, it's the best coffee she's ever had.

your apartment always smells like pumpkin pie or autumn leaves or flannel-- various candles burning and filling your space with the cozy smells and a lovely warm glow when the days start to grow dark earlier.

you start cooking hearty, warm meals-- stews and chilis and soups and curries-- sevika fucking adores it. there's nothing like a freshly baked slice of bread scooping up some kind of meaty sauce.

and your baking. sevika's almost cries the first time you hand her a plate of freshly homemade triple chocolate chip cookies, with a tall glass of milk.

she adores watching you start to get cozier as the days grow colder. your home becomes slowly filled with fuzzy blankets, you string up some fairy lights to flick on in the dark afternoons, pumpkin decor starts to decorate your tables and shelves.

she loves watching you cuddle into a hoodie, or pull a scarf up over your nose when you're outside and it's chilly. she especially loves cuddling with you under a blanket on the couch.

sevika just can't say no to you. she hates it. (she loves it.)

this means she ends up carving jack-o-lanterns for the first time in her life with you at the big age of forty three. she's surprised to find that she loves it-- scooping the guts of the pumpkin out is so satisfying, and she's always loved stabbing things. (what she loves most of all is the way you arrange your jackolanterns right next to each other on your front stoop, a scarf strung around the two of them, just like when you share your scarf with her.)

this also means that she wears a halloween costume for the first time in nearly thirty five years just for you.

obviously, it has to be a matching costume. sevika will not humiliate herself unless it's to show the world that she's yours.

i'm thinking about the classic lesbian couple costumes: werewolf and vampire.

sevika tries to get away with being a vampire by just drawing two little dots of red lipstick on her neck. you go all out-- buying a werewolf mask and gloves. and on the night of, when you reveal your costumes to each other, you pout at sevika until she rolls her eyes and gives in-- putting on the vampire costume you bought at the same halloween store you got your mask in.

you go to a party at silco's house, the adults drinking while the kids binge on candy, spooky music blasting, vander trying to jumpscare every guest by the end of the night.

you only show up for an hour before you decide to head home, both of you overwhelmed by the party.

sevika tugs on your sleeve as you wander through the leaf-covered sidewalks toward home. "babe, look." she whispers.

she swipes her vampire-cape to the side and reveals one of her fanny packs on her hip-- stuffed to the brim with candy she's stolen from the kids.

you burst into laughter and smack her shoulder, before pulling a kitkat out of her bag and crunching into it.

when you get back home, you spend the rest of the night smoking a joint on the front porch together, snuffing it out when kids approach and ask for candy.

sevika's shocked when you reveal the box of full size bars you'd bought to pass out, and you just shrug. "it keeps me on the good side of all the neighbor kids for the rest of the year."

she knows this isn't the real reason you do it though, you're too much of a softie. the real reason is the giant smiles and excited laughs the kids give the pair of you when you pass them the giant chocolates.

at one point, a little boy dressed in a dinosaur costume approaches with his parents trailing behind him. he seem's shy-- scared to run up onto your porch-- but with a bit of encouragement from you and his parents, he finally climbs the steps.

when sevika hands the boy the candy bar--nearly the size of his head-- his entire expression changes, a huge, toothless grin taking over his face. "thanks scary ladies!" he shouts, before running back down the stairs to show his parents his bounty. sevika chuckles to herself about this for the rest of the night.

by eleven, most of the kids have gone home. you and sev turn in, blowing out the jackolanterns, leaving the box of chocolate out for any teenagers looking to make trouble, hoping that they'll take the bribe and keep from egging or tp-ing your house.

you get in your (matching flannel) pjs and crawl into bed, snuggling and lazily making out as coraline plays on the tv.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @realgreeniebeanie @k3n-dyll

@sevsdollette @ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re

@raphaellearp @iamastar @sevikitty

[mrsarnasdelicious]

Mad Sweeny NSFW Alphabet

A = After (what they’re like after sex)

He tends to bask in the afterglow for a little, before he has to piss. He might go for a smoke afterwards.

He'll then come back and cuddle up, loving it when you play with his hair or play connect the dots with his freckles.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On himself, cock and hands. On you, most certainly your ass. Your hips and tits both come close second, but your ass just drives him up every available wall.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Huge loads, gushing out of every orifice you'll let him dump it in. It somehow seems to shine a bit golden and it tastes like old magic.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He has no secrets. He is an open book. Even when it comes to getting down and dirty, he'll not be ashamed to just state it plain and clear.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Oh you know this guy has already tried everything once. He's been around the block a good few times.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

You in his lap / cowgirl. He loves to see you ride him, look up at your tits bounce, grab at your arse.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Sweeney knows how to goof off. He will absolutely be silly when you are intimate, his laughter coming easy.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Man is ginger all over. Full bush with no shame!

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He is surprisingly needy for affection. He wants to be close to you, almost desperate for your love, clinging to you for every scrap of intimacy.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Sweeney is not beyond chasing after a quick high when you are not available.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Sex in public, breeding, overstim, size difference, edging, slapping and cum marking.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Changing rooms, tables and meadows full of flowers (bonus points if there is a fairy ring big enough for him to lay down in)

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Your tits, your ass, the noises your make, the sunshine in your hair, your scent, when you rub against him, the way you walk, the way you say his name and when you wear jewelry with sun imagery.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

DDLG, scat and vom

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

YES PLEASE. He loves it when you suck his cock, but he can lavish for HOURS between your thighs. And he is definitely not beyond rimming.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He is usually fast and rough, but has no issue taking his time on you if you want it so.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

OF COURSE, WHEN EVER YOU WANT BABY!

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Oh you bet your bottom penny he is a risk taker. In every sense of the word. He will fuck you in a public restroom with the door unlocked. This guy does not give a flying fudge what is at stake, or about common descency, for that matter.

And of course he is super game to experiment with almost everything you bring up to him!

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He is a God, he can last for literal days! He does not do this because he knows your body cannot take this and he is not a fan of not absolutely reveling in the pleasure sex brings him. He lasts on average 40ish minutes, tho he will bring on his climax when you let him know you are getting sore/beg him for his seed. And he has zero refractory period.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He does not own toys, but has no issue using any you own, on you and on himself.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He is of the Fae, of course he likes to tease. The more you are squirming and begging, the better!

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

L O U D He grunts and groans like a rutting boar, not to mention how DIRTY he dirty talks!!!

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Talks dirty gaelic when he is really deep in that throws of pleasure, especially when you have edged him for a bit.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He is hung, uncut and veiny. He got that godly cock baby!

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Resting Mood: Horny!

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Sometimes he just knocks out right away and other times he just shoves his head between your breasts and lays awake half the night, there is no telling which will happen when.

[yanderelovlies]

Well....how about belly bulge with sunny day Jack ? :] (sorry if u don't understand my ask, english is not my first language)

Fuck I'm a sucker for those also I played on a breeding kink oop

🔪THIS FIC IS 18+ BLANK AND AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED🔪

ALSO THIS FIC WILL BE FOLLOWING THE END OF THE DEMO TO SOME EXTENT, BUT NOT FULLY BECASUE THAT NOT FUN :) .

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

He placed you on the bed as softly as he could before kneeling down in front of you. It almost felt like you were a princess in a fairy tail, but that innocent thought was thrown out the window as his hand ran up your thigh.  He squeezed your upper thigh reassuringly as your eyes met his.

“Hey…..are you okay?”

The blush on his face was not as bright as yours, but it was still bright enough to see it under the pale moonlight shining through the curtains. You could also see the reassurance in his eyes. Somehow you knew even if you weren't comfortable we would do anything without your consent. Though all of this made you feel more at ease; you were still nervous.

“Y-yes…I'm okay Jack.”

And you have been that way through the build up, and the three orgasims he gave you from his finger and tongue alone. Well until….

“Y-you expect….T-THAT to fit into me?!” 

You weren't a virgin by any means, but Jack was certainly the BIGGEST you've ever seen. You Heard him chuckle above you as he leaned down, and began kissing you neck.

“Don't worry sunshine….i've prepared you…..and I promise to go slow.”

Once again like his magic his words seemed to calm you some, but you agreed all the same it was like you couldnt say no. With your consent Jack reaches down, grabs his dick, and lines it with your entrance before slowly pushing in to you. 

Dear God with the tip alone you already felt what was to come. You closed your eyes tightly as your hands flew to his biceps holding on for dear life. As he slowly began to move in more and more you began to dig your nails into his biceps as you let out a moan. You could feel the tears gather at the corner of your eyes.

Half way in he stops his voice as labored as you assumed you sounded with each breath.

“A-are…..you okay…sunshine..?”

You let out a whimper as you tried to take a deep breath. He was only half way in and he already felt so heavy in you. You were starting to doubt if you could take the rest of him when his hand came up to cup your face. His thumb wiped away a tear as he gave you lips a light kiss.

“You doing so well  sunshine….take you time…we don't have to rush.” He kissed away the other tear before it started falling down your cheek “Just tell me when..”

Just like the two of you thought it was a bit before you mumbled his name and moved your hips a little further down. He moved his hand from your face to your hip to prevent you from moving further down. He chuckled as he kissed your lips once more 

“Hold on sunshine……i don't…want you to hurt yourself.”

Once you settled down he slowly began to move more into stretching you to your limit. Or at least you thought it was until you could feel him touch your cervix, and he had finally been fully seated into you. With a huff you pulled yourself up slightly to look down at where you're connected. Only to see a light bulge clearly showing where he was in you. Following your line of sight he smirked as he moved his hand from your hip to the bulge as he lightly began to press down on it. You collapsed back on  the bed with a groan. With his hand on the bulge it made everything felt tighter than before.

“Jaaaaaaaack…..p-please!”

He gently removed his hand, chuckling more and moving both his hands to hold your waist.

“Sorry sunshine…i just wanted to feel how far i've marked you.”

Once he adjusted himself he began to gently begin moving, making you moan at the feeling. Thats how it started soft and slow but eventually Jack seemed to et restless as his pace slowly began to ramp up till he was eventaull fucking you into the bed at break neck speeds. 

The feeling of him abusing your cervix was mind shattering. You couldn't think of anything but him and his cock. Just like he wanted.

“Im…gonna fill you up….” he guided you legs to wrap around his waist as he bent over to start leaving kisses and bites on your neck.

“Imagine you…..full of our….babies!” even though he was saying this right by your ear you couldn't hear him. All you could focus on was how good he was making you feel.

“wouldn't  you like that….sunshine!”

All you could do was hold Jack close and blindly agree to whatever he wanted out of you. As long as he kept fucking you like it would be the last yo didnt care what he was asking. Which drove Jack wild as his thrusts became sporadic, and out of rhythm. You weren't far behind him as your already tight walls somehow tightened around his cock almost making it harder for him to move without hurting you.

With a couple more thrusts he finally released into you with a loud cry of your name. Slowly but surely you could feel load after load fill you, and your stomach began to expand. When you finally feel him stop you lift yourself for a final time to see your stomach bulge a little bit bigger then where his cock was.

“Look at that sunshine….we are..” he flops beside you still not pulling out of you. “Sure to have our small family..”

[tinyfantasminha]

im not ok. im

he has flowers on his hair. He has flowers ALL over his hair. Like I predicted. And they still manage to stand out besides his silver hair. Just tiny flowers all over his hair, like they just bloomed there. Like it's where they belong.

oh my god oh myggd god the glittery makeup. You'd never expect THE Jack Howl to go so well with makeup, plus it compliments his fierce but beautiful amber eyes giving him an ethereal look. Also it's hardly noticeable, but there's a tiny, really subtle faint blush on his cheek. His skin looks polished and smooth, I feel like it'd even be a crime for a mere mortal like me to touch it. Onto the next topic before I go crazy.

Yana didn't had to draw him with j u i c y seggsy lips but she did it, the absolute madwoman. Is he wearing lipstick? is Jack Howl actually wearing lipstick? Imagine just how warm and sweet and soft his lips must feel like. God I would sell my soul to transport me to a reality where I can kiss Jack Howl's juicy lips because it's driving me crazy. My sanity is slowly slipping away at each second the more I stare at it. Also no I did not forget about his collarbones and chest. They had to make him wear a shirt underneath otherwise Yana would be arrested for collective murder of all Jack simps. I am frothing at the mouth

of course they had to give him a waist. Just to further torture my psyche. The unbuttoned jacket, the diamond buttons, it aggraves further the desire to just hold his waist and slow dance w him even if I'm half his size. Jack Howl has a waist.

god the shading on his forearm. Delicious. Finally some good fucking food. Also not forgetting the details on his hips.

lastly, his hand. The hand, one of the most important parts because it enables, (im sorry for bringing this up in this sfw blog-) h*nd h*lding. Just holding fairy gala Jack's hand and softly brushing your fingers against his knuckles, that's it that's the tweet. Also he could really get used on wearing jewelry like these.

In conclusion, FG jack broke me and i will never be the same ever again, in fact I have already become the joker and I have passed the point of no return. It was good knowing you all

[thesunshinebunny]

Hello first ask, reaction of the vice leaders to an fem!reader dancing erotically/sexy? i really liked the ask you did with the leaders!

Of course honey! If you want to read the first one with the leaders, I'll leave it here. All characters are +18 and for obvious reasons Ortho is out of this order.

Cater/Jack/Floyd/Epel/Sebek/silver reaction

Smooooooch

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

Trey

Positions – Ariana Grande 

Late at night, everyone enjoying the comfort of their bed, sound asleep ... and here you were, in the middle between the lounge and the kitchen of Heartslabyul, with the music at medium volume and moving your hips as if there would not be a tomorrow.

You took advantage that everyone was peacefully asleep and snoring to practice a quiet choreography.

Well...not everyone.

Trey had gotten up for a glass of water when he found you in the middle of the kitchen, wearing only your panties and a T-shirt long enough to cover your upper thighs.

The way you moved your hips, revealing the fine dark red fabric of your panties shining comfortably against your skin, made Trey's mind take off.

“Cookin 'in the kitchen and I'm in the bedroom” That's it, Trey stopped holding back.

Before you could finish, you felt a pair of hands wrap around your waist and lift you off the floor, ending up on the counter.

You let out a gasp as lips fell on yours and your hands drew you toward your attacker's body.

“Trey ... next time give me a warning”

You gave him a light blow on the shoulder, but the man in front of you didn’t react conventionally, he grabbed your hand which was still resting on his shoulder and brought it towards his crotch, making you notice how hard he was.

“Maybe you should give me a warning before dancing that way in a public place and the way you are dressed”

Let's say… you two kept dancing for a few more minutes until Riddle showed up for a glass of milk.

You ended up scaring the little one for life.

Ruggie

Animals – Maroon 5 

Ruggie was tired after a long day of work, not just from his duties but also Leona's. He entered his room with a heavy step and fell on his bed, in which you were already waiting for him cross-legged.

"Long day?"

Ruggie just nod and settle on the bed, hoping to reach your legs, lie on them, and sleep until the next day.

"I have something that might make you feel better"

You crawled out of bed and for some reason the hyena didn't know, you went to his closet and grabbed one of his dorm shirts.

You went to the bathroom, Ruggie assumed to change, and you came out with your cell phone in hand and dressed to be eaten. The shirt barely covered your upper part, revealing the curvature of your breasts, apart from posing on your thighs.

If you weren’t about to playing some music, Ruggie was willing to jump up to you and eat you right there.

It was worth the wait. When you started moving, Ruggie's first thought was how lucky he was to have you. He was enjoying your fun, seeing you happy dancing for him even if it was at the comfort of his room.

When your steps became more lewd, he couldn't help how tight his pants were. He was completely hard and with each step, his limit was about to run out.

When you were done, hips on Ruggie's, he pulled you close to his crotch, your cunt well positioned over it and pulsing for some more friction.

Fuck the sleep, Ruggie spent the whole night pounding you in every possible position until your bodies were nothing more than a bundle of heat and wet fluids. You ended up destroyed.

The Savannaclaw students wondered all night the source of the high-pitched, savage howls.

Jade

Call Out My Name – The Weeknd 

It was closing time at Monstro Lounge. Tables already set, Azul closing the VIP room, Floyd closing the box and Jade cleaning a few glasses and plates from the bar.

For your, you were waiting for this moment. From time to time Azul would let you practice your choreographies on stage in exchange for a much lower monetary payment than those of Pomefiore had given you.

When the trio were distracted, each with their tasks, you ran out of the room where you were changing, put your cell phone on the speakers, and positioned yourself without hesitation on stage.

Hearing the beginning of the music, the three of them turned around to enjoy the show for a while, but they weren't prepared to see you in men's sleep shorts and one of the dorm’s shirts.

"Ara Ara ~ what a view more...appetizing"

Jade placed a chair in front of where you were dancing and gazed at you as if you were the most beautiful pearl in the entire sea.

Floyd had a wicked grin on his face and Azul was red as tomato.

The other eel was about to open his big mouth and approach where his brother was, but Azul grabbed his collar and dragged him out of the Monstro Lounge.

"I want the place clean when you finish"

The comment didn’t go unnoticed by either of you, but you didn’t care.

When you finished dancing, Jade already had his hands on your waist and his lips and teeth on yours.

Floyd was very clever and left posters outside the door and in the hallway warning of the heated scene that was about to take place.

Jamil

River – Bishop 

There was a small dance competition between a few students from Scarabia and Pomefiore, including Heartslabyul, and Jamil took a break from his responsibilities to participate.

In his excitement, he told you about the competition a few hours before it happened and left you to go practice. Bad move

The last few participants had already done their best, but Jamil had taken the best steps; he was about to win. But before the winner was dictated, you showed up, dressed in gym shorts, a sports bra and one of Jamil’s sleeveless hoodie.

Everyone's jaws dropped.

Your eyes never left Jamil's unless the choreography needed a spin. Your figure was powerless in the middle of the pseudo dance floor and while your steps were exceptional, no one could move a muscle. They were mesmerized, their eyes glued to your figure...and Jamil didn't like that.

He didn't like to see how the skin on your legs was exposed. He didn't like to see your butt become the main attraction, much less when you moved it so erotically. He didn't like to see your hair move with your body and outline your face.

You ended up winning the competition unanimously. Everyone applauded your performance, some asked if you could teach them to dance so freely.

Jamil was jealous, smoke was coming out of his ears and at any moment he was going to explode.

You turned your head to where he was and gave him a wink and one of your most malicious smiles. That was the limit.

Jamil grabbed your hand and led you to the closest cleaning closet.

"If you want to put on a show, then we are going to put on one so that everyone can hear it"

No one dared walk past the closet from the first floor next to the alchemy classroom for two hours.

Rook

Horns – Bryce Foz 

You were watching a dance rehearsal in the Pomefiore dance hall. Sitting in a corner without disturbing anyone, cross-legged, you watched Rook from afar and gave him little appraisals and signs of success every time he turned to see you.

When the rehearsal ended, and the students were dating one by one, you were alone with Rook. You gave him a bottle of water and a towel to dry off.

"You worked really hard, you deserve a break" and the blonde took it to heart.

He left the rehearsal room for a moment to change his clothes and then walk you to your dorm. In that little silence and tranquility, you began to walk around the room, looking at your body in the mirror and how it moved when you took a turn.

With that, an idea came to mind.

You grabbed your cell phone and put on a random song. You stood in the middle of the room, always looking into the mirror, and began to move from one side to the other, waiting for the music to hit at the right moment.

And it was at that moment that Rook entered.

Your steps left him stunned. The way you hit the ground, the way your hips moved in the air and your legs rose.

It was one of the most beautiful things he had seen in a long time.

Your figure, now standing, met Rook's. You both looked at each other through the mirror and you couldn't help but smile in embarrassment. You kept dancing even with a few sloppy steps until you stopped to look at him.

"Oh no no, don't stop for me, you dance very well"

You felt Rook's piercing gaze on your body for the remainder of the choreography and it wasn't until you were done that he moved behind you to turn you around and onto his chest.

"Ma amour, you are one of the most beautiful creatures this hunter could find"

His bare hands roamed your waist and hips, lifting your shirt slightly and savoring your burning skin with his fingers.

"Now let me hunt you down properly"

Lilia

Lights Down Low – Bei Maejor 

Classes were over and you were waiting for the light music club to get together to watch them practice. Mostly to see Lilia have fun playing the guitar, then to really listen to the music… uh, yeah, we can put that aside.

The boys hadn’t arrived so you had the club room to yourself and you took the opportunity to leave your backpack and free yourself from your school uniform, leaving with a shirt and shorts.

Seeing the minutes kept passing and no one had deigned to appear, you put music on your cell phone to fill the void. Your playlist reached a song of your favorites and you couldn't help but move to the beat of it.

You made sure the room door was closed, avoiding unwanted glances, and started dancing without any worries.

You should have remembered that some students are magical creatures and can appear in the room without even knocking on the door… just Lilia’s case.

Our fairy remained face down with his happy and mocking face so characteristic and observed your way of relaxing and how you let yourself be carried away.

Lilia wasn't going to deny that he was fascinated by your steps and… by your rear guard *wink wonk*

"The club became much more interesting"

You turned around scared to hear his voice so close to your ear. The bastard had approached without making any noise.

He put his hands on your shoulders and pulled you closer to him. His lips rested on your nose, your eyes, the corner of your lips and your ears.

"Tell me ... would you mind giving me a private show in my room?"

His fang pinked the skin of your ear, sending a chill down your spine.

Before you could answer, you were already in his room, back on his bed and his toothy smile as the only sight.

[binnieboyswhore]

SKZ as...

Stray Kids as my favorite kinks Pairing: Skz x Reader  Genre: smut  Word count: 1,130 Warnings: Choking, bondage, Knives, blood, biting, bruises, wax, and blindfolds. I can’t think of anything else but ya if you feel i should add it please let me know! Authors note: This is my favorite thing I’ve ever written cause I am the center of it all and yes i am an attention whore. I am willing to die on all these hills so please don’t fight me on it 

Please if you are under the age of 18 do not interact. Thank you :)

Bang Chan: Erotic Asphyxiation: Choking Do I even have to explain? Between the rings and watches and that mans beautiful ass hands? Fairy Tales are written about those hands. Anyway, back to them being wrapped around your throat. He loves having them on there whether he’s railing you, making out with you or even chilling with the boys. He loves having you seated between his legs, your back on his chest while his hand rests on your collar bone. It’s strangely calming to both of you to know you’re just a grip away

Minho:  Merinthophilia: tying someone up This boy loves his ropes and I am prepared to die on this hill. He loves tying you up whether it’s just your hands to the headboard using his belt or taking the time to learn new knots and designs. He has every color of rope so it can match any occasion, even pastel colors for a pretty easter fuck. He is in love with the pained look in your eyes when you really want to touch him and you can’t. He also loves how pretty you look all tangled in his ropes. He even learns a heart knot for you on valentines day, constantly grabbing ahold of it while fucking you. He thinks you’re so pretty tied up he often takes pictures of you before he absolutely wrecks you.

Changbin: Dressing up: Bunny One word. Bunny. Bunnies make this man's head go brrr. When he comes into your shared bedroom after a long day at work and sees those ears on you, one bent as if it were winking at him makes him go crazy. The white lace tight around your body leaves nothing to the imagination, he can’t help but drop his jaw. Once he gathers himself he asks you, “So, bunny do you have the rest of it?” You turn to show off your cotton tailed butt plug and this man loses it. He is ready to tear you apart like a wolf who found dinner after three days of hunting. It’s a guarantee you won’t be walking tomorrow.

Hyunjin: RACK: knife play This man would be one of the few I trust enough to do this. He would love dragging the blade all over your body watching goosebumps rise up. Occasionally digging the blade in your flesh but not with enough force to break skin just enough to hear your little whimpers. On occasion you allow him to cut you, not deep enough to scar but enough to draw blood and he goes bonkers when you allow this. He’ll cut you along the top of your thigh and watch the blood trickle down a bit before flattening his tongue on you, licking it up and suckling on the wound. You let a moan out at the mixture of the cold blade, the burning wound and his wet tongue. He’ll insert the handle of the blade in you, watching you as you rut your hips along it. He’d roll his eyes from watching how much pleasure you’re receiving from this and he hasn’t even touched you yet.

Jisung: Odaxelagnia: Biting Whether it’s to extract a dirty ass moan from you or muffle his own this man loves to bite. He loves leaving his mark on you anywhere you allow. He loves little nips at your back or big bites on your ass and thigh. There were a few times he’d accidently bite you so hard he’d draw blood. He couldn’t tell you how sorry he was that he did that, leaving little kisses around it but the devil in his brain reminded him this one would take longer to heal and knowing that his teeth were indented into your skin covered in a brown and purple bruise excited him so much. During the healing process you could expect quickies any and everywhere, in closets of music video sets to bathroom stalls at restaurants. Anytime he got a glimpse of it, it just wound him right back up.

Felix: Temperature Play: wax Felix is an absolute S L U T for wax play. He loves to cuff/tie your hands to the bed frame and watch your chest heave up and down in anticipation for the hot wax. He’ll light multiple different colored candles too so your chest is an “absolute work of art” Felix always liked to say. He’ll start by dropping wax right between your breast watching it slowly fall through the valley and come to a droplet. He repeats this process in different colors watching your chest rise and fall in pain but enjoyable pain. He takes a candle dripping wax over your sensitive nipples letting a moan out he’ll look at you, “Are you still okay?” he lifts the candle so no more wax is falling on you. “Fuck felix please don’t stop.” You moan out causing his member to get extra hard. He’ll get a crazy look in his eye and smirk at you. You knew you were in for a good fuck when he took his phone off the bed side table to capture his work before destroying your body in every way he could.

Seungmin: Dominance: Sir There is nothing Seungmin loves more than when you refer to him as “Sir”. It could be in a sarcastic way or a sexual way but no matter it always resulted with you bent over the nearest object taking him pounding into you. He loved nothing more than hearing you scream “Yes sir.” when he asked if you felt good. The thought alone could make him combust. He would even often record you screaming it just so he has plenty of octave options to jack off to on tour or if work has gotten real stressful. He’s still trying to talk chan into using one as a background sound on the album. He has yet to sway him considering he refuses to let chan listen to him cause “those moans are mine”.

IN: Amaurophilia: blindfolds He hasn’t decided what he likes more, using the blindfold on him or on you. (It’s definitely you) He loves the way the silk band feels as he ties it behind your head making sure not to get your hair caught in it. He loves that now you’re having to rely on your other senses and on him to know what he’s doing so he likes to fuck with you a bit like breath on your neck then pinch the inside of your thigh, eating up every little yelp and moan you let out. He constantly teases you before entering, he’ll drag his dick up and down your folds relentlessly till you reach out your hand making an attempt to grab a hold of his arm.

[cuddles-and-kisses]

So The Cat's Out Of The Bag,,,

Another fanfic for Agapito (an OC that belongs to @yandereaffections) The story starts under the cut. Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 1,908 Trigger Warnings: Subtle yandereness, I can't think of any others

It’s 11 pm. I’ve been avoiding schoolwork all day and I’m in no rush to fix it. I've been writing fanfiction, of sorts, for the past 3 hours. On the bright side, the first draft is done! My back hurts from sitting so long while my butt hurts because I’ve sat on a wooden stool this long. I need to take a break but what to do? Oh, what to do? My weekly planner is wide open on a bookstand to my right. I could be productive, or I could keep avoiding them... So the planner is closed now. I’ve reorganized pens in a pen cup for the seventh time. Is there a limit to how many times a person can adjust a desk lamp before going insane? There has to be something else to do but what? As if on cue, my phone lights up with a text from my Baby. We’ve been official for 6 months so our dates are a lot more casual nowadays.

“Angel, I want attention. Unlock the back door” I’m aware it doesn’t seem like it but this is how he asks to come over. He won’t come over until I respond giving the green light. “Bold of you to assume I’m home and not partying at a random frat house” We both know I’m not doing jack at 11 pm on a Friday. Nonetheless, it’s fun to pretend I have a flourishing social life. “That’s cute. Back door please” Alright, now to get up and- ow, fuck, ouchie, ok, hold on. *POP* There we go!

I should probably pick my room up real quick. I made my bed earlier today so that’s not a problem. The svallerup rug from Ikea collects dirt a lot faster than I expected. Although would he really notice? It’s not bright in here. My dresser by the door looks fine. The futon is in couch mode, so there’s not much left I don’t have to clean up for him. In reality, I’m not cleaning for him, I just like having a clean room. The last thing I do is turn on the fairy lights above my head then light a vanilla candle. I know he’s coming over to cuddle or really do anything involving him getting affection. I might as well make my bedroom reflect that, right?

I half-jog upstairs to unlock our back door. Why the back door? It’s not because I love Jesus. Let me explain. The living room floor creaks way too loud. Also, my parent’s bedroom is right next to that door. The side door alerts our dogs to start pitching a fit. How can they hear it from the opposite side of our house? I may never be able to understand. Moonlight drifts halfway across the backroom. Sparse nightlights cover the remaining needed light. I flick on the backdoor lights followed by opening a few blinds to let more light in. Their orange glow overpowers the moonlight near the backdoor.

For whatever reason, the moon is far brighter tonight. Or my pupils are hella dilated because I’m thinking about my Baby. Either way, moonlight dusts over parts of the backroom and kitchen ahead of me. One last light to turn on. An LED light above our kitchen sink smashes through most surrounding darkness, making it almost impossible to see into the living room. White cabinets outline our kitchen. None of the cabinets match each other in this house. It’s as if this house was built in parts instead of planned out from the start. The counter is occupied with things you’d expect; a bread box, knife set, fruit basket, coffee pot, and an air fryer. Yet, there's evidence real people live here. Crumbs from a snack, mail by the fruit basket, half-empty coffee pot, as well as children’s toys forgotten all about

Everyone else is snuggled up in warm beds, sleeping. I can pick out each person’s snoring pattern when they poke through tonight’s ambiance. There are moments where quiet feels like serenity, others where it feels like emptiness. I can’t decide which one I’m feeling because I realize I’m about to have a visitor. A cup of coffee sounds like the perfect way to waste a few minutes while waiting for my lover.

Coffee cup out of the overhead cabinet. A coffee spoon from beside the coffee pot. Fake sugar off the shelves. Room temperature coffee in the pot from this morning. French vanilla coffee creamer out of the fridge. And just like that, a proper cup of coffee is served. Light reflects off the glossy coating painted over our pale coffee cups. Mom considers it a priority to have everything match or look cohesive. Appearing put together is a source of pride for her. A cup is a cup however matching cups make her happy. My ears perk up at hearing his tires pulling into the driveway. My coffee creamer swirls in the cup as he walks up the driveway. The coffee spoon clings against the inside of my coffee cup simultaneously with the creak of our back gate. All that’s left is to wash off this week’s coffee spoon then put it back. I have only a few more seconds until my Love is with me again. I’m a sappy and hopeful romantic for him, get off my back. He’s learned how to silently open the back door and if I didn’t have good peripheral vision, I would’ve yelped.

Intimate hands snake around my hips as a tender kiss is pressed against my neck. I can feel the tender smile tugging at his lips after the kiss, he had a really good day? His body is pressed against mine as he murmurs “Honey, I’m home~” behind my ear; earning a soft chuckle from me. I turn to face him, wrap my arms around his neck, and greet him with a deep kiss. This time on the lips. “Welcome home, my Love.” He’s so close to me, I can smell the cigarette he had on his way over here. The absence of alcohol or weed stench affirms he didn’t have a bad day at work. I can’t wait until these interactions become a daily occurrence. This man is breathtaking under normal circumstances; but, under the glimmer of moonlight,,, I can’t form a single thought while looking at him. The raw admiration and love this man holds in his eyes? Who could stand a chance against him? Not me. Wrong choice.

His hands linger along the sides of my hips. I hold his arms in an attempt to keep him close to me, just a little longer. “I brought you a few things. I’ll go set them on your desk.” He knows gifts aren’t my thing in spite of that he claims I deserve the entire universe. I breathed out, “Ok, I’ll be down in a minute,” then started moving to get my coffee cup, as well as a few snacks to bring downstairs. He starts heading downstairs content with how flustered I am. WAIT A FLUFFING MINUTE THE FANFICTION IS ABOUT HIM!! I whisper yell ‘Baby’ until his head pops back around the corner. I threaten him to not touch or look at my laptop. It was a pathetic attempt considering what he does for a living. In my defense, I tried. I forgot he’s in essence an overgrown teenager who will do the exact opposite of what he’s told. Wanna know what he does? Grin. I’m so fucked.

Agapito dashes downstairs and leaves me in unadulterated fear. I’m frozen in place, trying to come to terms with my fate as his footsteps fade. It’s not smut or anything, just a simple night and morning routine imagining that we lived together. This is going to be so embarrassing. Please spare me this treacherous fate and undying embarrassment. Deep breaths, just take deep breaths. Get your coffee then snacks then, simply, accept what’s just happened.

With arms full of snacks, I shut my bedroom door as gingerly as I can. Setting the cup on the dresser right by the door to make this a little easier. He’s standing at my computer, reading through the last page. Oh hey, he brought me Rolo’s as well as 3 Musketeers. Nice! Oh wait, he’s done reading. His shoulders aren’t tense; his breathing hasn’t changed; all the same, he’s just standing there. “Why did you write this out instead of doing it?” That’s a good question tbh. My Baby’s voice sounds hurt, despite that, he’s trying to hide it. Ok, he needs a hug. Now to throw the snack on the bed. He needs a rib-crushing hug and you bet your butt I’ll be the one to deliver. I tug at his elbow so he’ll face me then pull him into me. His shoulders are right under my chin when we’re facing each other. I bury my face in his neck while my arms hug him as tight as I can. Except why is he upset about this?

His love for me is nothing to scoff at. He loves me the same way he wanted to be loved when he was younger. We’ve figured out he’s catching up from his pre-teen years and onward. So about 13 years without a stable romantic relationship. When he was trying to court me I had to call him out all the time for manipulation. I know he’s terrified I’ll think he’s not good enough. He has episodes of frantic attempts to meet all of my needs, even if it’s not asked for or needed. What is going through his head? Does he feel like he’s not good enough? That he’s not loving me enough so I have to turn to a fictional version of him? Does he think he’s not good enough for me to do this stuff with him? None of those are true, obviously. I explicitly stated that in the story he just read. It doesn’t mean he won’t get stuck inside his head. I need to tell him the truth. Even if I wanted to lie, I couldn’t, he’s a finely-tuned human lie detector. One more deep breath. Squeeze him a little tighter. Look him in his eyes and come clean.

“The reason I didn’t just act these out is because, I didn’t know how to ask for it.” His expression shifts from confused hurt to understanding. I start rambling, “I want to have these experiences with you. I’d give anything to have that life with you but we've only been dating for 6 months and I just, wasn’t sure, how to phrase it.” I’m choking on my own pulse from emotions. I realize I was shifting my weight left to right when he pulls me in for another hug and kisses my forehead. We stand there in each other’s embrace for a few moments before he suggests I come to his house tomorrow night. We both know what he’s suggesting. I can’t help but adamantly agree. Excitement zips through my body thinking about tomorrow night. A smile pulls at my lips as I ask, “Do you mind if I wear this shirt tomorrow night?”

Tonight is about Netflix, snacks, and rediscovering the curves and contours of each other’s bodies. Though, not before I mess up his hair while calling him a butthead. It’s evident his insecurities are still tugging at him. Funny enough, his insecurities forgot they’re fighting against me for his attention.

[hollidaytaylor]

i know.

The reflection of feathered hair falling from the tight-knit bun gathered around features that no longer swirled with the intoxicating charm of youth. With each swig of airplane Scotch bottles, a year was cut from her life and added onto her face, starting with purple circles rimming once bright eyes. She could lie to passengers and to co-workers, laughing off the marks of exhaustion as mascara, but Holliday Hawkins loved a waterproof product more than most.

The people she could also lie to were friends and family, but Holliday could no longer get away with it. The first novel of her life detailed a teenage pregnancy, a divorce, and a long string of addictive tendencies that led to her gripping the bottle of Jack Daniels more than her own Joey Jack. It was an open book, one she’d practically publish herself. Where the fuck was her ghost writer when needed? 

She could lie to these people day in and out, but she could no longer get away with casual acts of violence. She’d inflicted enough suffering that sometimes all she felt she had left of her son was the tattered picture poking from the breast pocket of the powdered stewardess dress. He looked different now than the photo of his two year old self. The almost five year old had darker locks, his porcelain-like skin scattered with freckles Holliday hadn’t even seen on herself since primary. Everyday, he was more like her. That was fucking terrifying.

Opinionated as hell with a false sense of independence, would Joseph Jackson Hawkins survive without the handbook of his almost identical mother? Or would he see the struggling woman for what she was and move forward before she had a chance to touch his life with her kiss of misfortune. Her heart lurched forward, choosing the answer for him. He was going to leave her. He needed to.

Vision became blinded, her head falling forward, back, and around in comfortable circles. Her hips swung into the same motion, allowing the beat of the song to encapsulate Holliday here and now, in this airport bathroom. Was she in New York? Perhaps. It did not matter what ground she set her feet to, she never felt welcomed. The girl who’d made her presence known at every corner she’d marched around in heeled booties feared the one thing she’d wanted most desperately. She wished to be know, but being known did not mean love or adoration whenever you needed.

The fairy godmother had fucked her over with her one wish, but that was bullshit, too. Hollie could only blame herself. It’s why she turned her back to the mirror and strummed along to the air guitar she manifested inside her mind. It was about the only happiness she could grant herself now, tears forcing to burst at each seam of her uniform. The showers were locked without a key-in-code and Holliday had forgotten to ask for it. Either drowning underneath the water in there or the tears out here -- neither were as acceptable as throwing her neck back and popping her mouth full of anti-depressants she’d never cared to know the name of. Only three of them.

Even doing the things that could’ve been healthy for her, Holliday somehow found a way to abuse. The helping tools were misused. Because they were washed down with another sample sized bottle. She quite liked the Scotch, because it brought forth the memories of whisky tasting in her grandfather’s dusty cellar. Those were the days when she could do wrong and be called endearing for it, with a peck to the top of her head. Where were the days when mistakes were accepted? Long gone with her own forgiveness and dignity, she was sure. As dead as the people who’d left them in this life.

She could be good at lying to herself, too. The song swapped to something much more mellow and melancholy crept up her spine, leaving unwelcomed goosebumps. She forced herself to believe that grandfather would understand her displacement in life, but he was harsher than her mother could ever be. Meaner than her father. It felt so much better to lie. I love to lie. I will always lie.

Fuck my true father, fuck the fake one. Fuck the boys who didn’t love me and the girls, too. Fuck my mother. Fuck me and fuck my life, fuck my life, fuck my life. “This was all meant to be temporary,” her voice cracked, letting loose the most comforting sobs she’d had in some time. The cries came hard and fast, tears washing away even the most waterproof of makeup. The pressure in her head began to subside some. Crying helped more than lying did.

Easy days were far and few between, but on those rare days, Holliday accepted accountability like an old friend. Apologies were non-existent for the most time and when you ached painfully with each step forward, it was second-nature to point the fingers. She refused to look at the reflection of stringy hair over her shoulder, that would have undoubtedly glared back at her and affirmed who the true problem was. The common denominator, you could say. Holliday fucking hated maths, too. Fuck maths. 

She would allow the music to save her now, taking shot after shot.

[inkedstarlight]

Elriel: Halloween Edition

Summary: Azriel and his son go trick-or-treating and stop by Elain's house. They have an adorable encounter. Later that night, Elain goes to Feyre's house for the Halloween party she's throwing and meets her boyfriend, Rhys. Rhysand's brothers also come to the party and Elain runs into Azriel yet again. Let the romance ensue. Basically just a shit ton of fluff. Note: Read it here on AO3!

There was nothing Elain Archeron loved more than giving candy out to little kids on Halloween. Which is why she was currently sitting on her living room couch in her costume, the bowl of candy in her lap as she patiently waited for the first trick-or-treater to come.

It was the first Halloween that she’ll have spent in her new house. She’d recently moved from her studio apartment to a small, two-bedroom house just outside the city. After being promoted from teacher to principal at the elementary school she’d worked at for more than five years, Elain figured a little change was in order.

Unfortunately, the new neighborhood was a bit further from her sisters than her apartment had been. They both lived in the city, Feyre taught painting lessons at the local art store while Nesta worked as a software developer at a start-up tech company. Feyre had also recently moved; her boyfriend of only seven months, Rhysand, asked her to move in with him. Elain hadn't yet met him but from what Feyre had told her, he seemed like he treated her sister really well. But Elain would be the judge of that.

Well, more like Nesta would be the judge of that. Elain was certain that her older sister was going to interrogate the poor man until she's squeezed out his darkest secrets. Nesta had a... unique way with people. Unconventional, but it'd been effective thus far.

Tonight was particularly exciting because the couple was hosting a small Halloween bash at their place. Elain had been bugging Feyre for weeks to properly introduce Rhysand to her and Nesta. Their schedules very rarely matched up.

The doorbell rang, pulling Elain from her thoughts and back to the present. She glanced at the clock. It was four-thirty in the evening. The sun still shone bright in the sky.

She grinned to herself. Let the trick or treating commence.

Jumping up from where she sat, Elain excitedly made her way to the front of the house. She swung the door open. What she saw on her porch melted her damn heart.

A little boy, no older than six, was dressed as a firefighter. He had a tiny hard hat on his head, his chocolate hair curling out from underneath. A dalmatian stuffed animal was tucked under his arm, his other hand clutching a jack-o-lantern bucket for candy. His eyelashes were impossibly long as he looked up at her with wide eyes and a goofy smile. It was contagious.

Elain also noticed that he was alone, no adult in sight.

“Trick or treat!” the boy greeted her.

“Happy Halloween!” Elain replied with a giggle. She put her bowl of candy on the ground to kneel in front of him. She looked around. “Is someone with you?”

“Yeah,” the kid sighed like he just got out of a stressful work meeting. Elain inwardly smiled. “My daddy. But he kept talking and talking about why he thought Mounds was his favorite candy, even though it’s obviously the worst.”

The boy stopped to look at her as if waiting for her to agree. Elain nodded her head vigorously. Naturally.

“He was just talking so much,” the little boy continued. He gestured for Elain to come closer before whisper-shouting, “You know, I really think he needs a girl in his life –”

“TOBIAS!” a strong, male voice called out.

“Uh-oh,” the boy, Tobias, muttered under his breath. He looked up at Elain with pleading eyes. “Don’t let me get in trouble.”

Elain suppressed her laugh and nodded at him. “Your secret is safe with me.”

Tobias held out his pinky finger. "Pinky promise?"

"Pinky promise," Elain swore. Gods, this kid was a gem.

Elain watched as a man approached her yard. His face was twisted with frustration, presumably because his son ran away, but he was… beautiful. Elain sucked in a breath as she ran her eyes up and down his body. He was wearing a loose white shirt, slightly sheer, that had a very deep V. The sleeves were cut off messily and he wore a fake sword on his hip. He was a pirate. A sexy pirate. But it was definitely a costume that wasn't advertised as 'sexy.' No, it was the man wearing it that made it sexy. And to make it even better, he looked as if he’d thrown it on last minute when his son reminded him it was Halloween.

The man stopped in front of Tobias. He crossed his arms, paying no mind to Elain.

“You’re in big trouble."

“But –”

“We’ve talked about this, Tobias. You can’t just run away from someone when you get bored.”

Now Elain really had to hold in her laugh. She covered it with a cough.

That's when Tobias’s father realized they had an audience. He directed his authoritative stare to Elain, and his hazel eyes immediately softened. She did her best to not fidget as his eyes ran over her. He must have seen the humor on her face because his lips twitched upward.

 Fucking adorable.

“Sorry about my son,” he said sincerely, shooting a glare at an oblivious Tobias from the corner of his eye. “I’m Azriel. And you are?”

“Elain," she told him with a shy smile.

“Elain,” he echoed, testing it out on his tongue. Shivers ran down Elain’s arms. His voice was like velvet. She could listen to him repeat her name over and over again for hours.

Stop being so creepy.

“You, uh –” Azriel stumbled over his words awkwardly as he tried to find the words. “I love your costume.”

Elain blushed appreciatively. But before she could thank him, Tobias groaned.

“C’mon, Daddy, that was so lame. Get her phone number or something.”

Elain clapped a hand over her mouth, shoulders shaking as she nearly lost it. It was Azriel’s turn to blush this time.

“Tobs, now’s not the time –”

“But she’s so pretty and nice! I already love her,” he pouted up at his father.

Azriel mumbled incoherent words as he tried to usher his son off the porch. “We should really go,” Azriel said, trying to avoid eye contact with her. He was so awkward. She loved it. “I’m so sorry again.”

“Wait!" Elain blurted out, trying to delay his departure. Azriel looked at her and she gave him a sheepish smile. "You forgot to grab some candy."

Tobias didn't need to be told twice. Elain held out the bowl for him to choose. He fished around for a while before picking three Skittles packages. Elain gave him a wink before turning to Azriel.

“Everyone should get candy on Halloween,” she grinned at him.

He looked at her curiously before smiling gratefully and taking a piece of candy without even looking to see the options.

“Thank you, Elain," he said, his tone sincere and soft. She nearly melted right there.

"Happy Halloween," she murmured as she watched Azriel back away, Tobias looking at his father as if he had two heads. Azriel seemed to be in a daze, giving Elain a small wave as he continued to walk backwards. He stumbled over his own feet, earning a laugh from Elain. Then, he finally turned around and walked out of sight.

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

“It’s so wonderful to meet you!” Elain exclaimed, ignoring the hand that Rhysand held out and going straight in for a hug.

“Don’t suffocate him,” Feyre joked as she watched them embrace.

Elain had arrived to their place a couple minutes early, eager to meet her sister’s boyfriend. Elain backed away to let Nesta introduced herself. Elain leaned over to Feyre.

“You didn’t tell me how cute he is,” Elain whispered with a giggle.

Feyre laughed. “Did I mention he has two brothers?”

Elain’s jaw dropped. “No, you seemed to have conveniently left that part out.”

“Well, they’ll be here soon,” Feyre said with a twinkle in her eye. “And they’re both single.”

Nesta turned to them as they laughed secretively. Rhysand followed her gaze. “What are you two giggling about?”

Before Feyre had a chance to answer, the doorbell rang. She excused herself, Rhysand right on her tail.

Elain looked over at her older sister to see her glaring down at her. “Let me guess: you guys were talking about Rhysand’s brothers.”

“How’d you know?”

Nesta let out an exasperated sigh. “She’s already tried to set me up with one of them.”

“I’m guessing it didn’t go well?”

Nesta scoffed. “Horribly. She failed to mention that he was a grade A –”

“Fancy seeing you here, sweetheart,” a low voice interrupted Nesta’s rant.

A man approached them, hands in pockets as he strutted confidently. His long brown hair was tied up in a messy bun and a five o’clock shadow on his sharp jaw. Elain watched as her sister dragged her hands down her face and groaned at the mere sight of him. That only made him chuckle deeply.

“Miss me?”

Nesta ignored his comment and reluctantly gestured to him. “Elain, this is Cassian. Cassian, this is my other sister Elain.”

Cassian shot her a goofy grin and reached out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Elain. I’ve never seen anyone rock fairy wings like you are.”

Elain couldn’t help but blush. “Thank you.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Ugh, stop charming everyone!”

“I’m irresistible, sweetheart,” Cassian batted his eyelashes.

“I need a drink,” Nesta muttered to herself before walking away and in the direction of the kitchen.

Cassian winked at Elain before following her sister. “I could use a drink too!"

Elain listened to them bicker as they walked away, a smile touching her lips.

Over the next couple hours, more and more people arrived at Rhysand and Feyre’s place. It soon got crowded, Elain unable to hear over the booming music and incessant chatter.

She was sitting on an loveseat in the corner watching Cassian trying to convince Nesta to dance with him when she heard a familiar voice.

"Sorry I'm so late, the babysitter cancelled last minute and I had to find a replacement."

Elain's head snapped to the foyer where Feyre and Rhys stood with another man. Elain got a glimpse of his face as he took off his jacket, and her suspicions were confirmed.

It was Azriel.

Elain's heart was beating out of her chest as she watched Feyre lead Azriel into the living room where she sat.

Then he spotted her.

He stopped dead in his tracks, Feyre continuing to walk and talk, not noticing that she no longer had his attention. No, his eyes were on Elain and Elain alone.

Elain gave him a little wave. Azriel's lips turned into a full out smile as he caught up to Feyre, who had been leading him to Elain anyway. Presumably to introduce him to her and Nesta.

"Azriel, this is -"

"Elain," he finished. His eyes were still on her, disbelief on his face.

Feyre looked between them confusedly. "Do you guys know each other?"

"Uh..." Elain started, unsure of what to say. "Sort of?"

"I went out with Tobias and we incidentally stopped by her house," Azriel explained.

"Well," Feyre said with a mischievous grin. "I guess I'll leave you guys to it." She shot Elain a look that said, You should make a move.

And just like that, they were alone.

Azriel took a seat beside Elain, leaving only a couple inches between them as he turned his body toward her. He smelled amazing.

"So, you're Feyre's sister, huh?" Azriel gazed at her earnestly and bumped his shoulder against hers. "I guess that means we'll be seeing a lot of each other."

Elain bit her lip to stop herself from grinning like an idiot. "No complaints here."

A comfortable silence fell between them as they watched others dancing and drinking. The current song faded out and "Creep" by Radiohead began to play.

"Would you, um... would you like to dance?" Azriel asked her tentatively.

Oh my gods, yes! What kind of question is that?

"I would love to," Elain exclaimed.

Azriel stood and held out his hand. The moment Elain took his hand with her own, she was a goner.

He led them to the makeshift dance floor before bringing her hand to his shoulder and grabbing her waist gently with his hand. Fire shot through Elain when his thumb circled idly on her palm. Then, he pulled her in close.

"This okay?" Azriel murmured, his lips brushing against her ear. She shivered and nodded.

"Did I mention," he continued, spinning them in a slow circle, "that you are absolutely gorgeous?"

Elain hid her face against his shoulder to smile widely before craning her neck to look at with him, a twinkle in her eye. "I think you were too busy tripping over your own feet to mention that."

Azriel tipped back his head and laughed loudly. She loved the sound. "You wound me, Elain," he told her, but Elain could see the faint blush in his cheeks. He leaned in to whisper, "You're right though. You make me nervous."

The music swelled, and Azriel guided both of Elain's hands to cup the back of his neck. He encircled his arms around her waist until their bodies were flush against each other, their foreheads touching.

"I like Tobias. He's a great kid."

Azriel's entire body seemed to relax as he gave her an easy smile. "He's a handful, and I love him."

"I can tell," Elain told him. "You're a good dad."

"Thank you." Azriel huffed out a laugh. "You're something else, Elain Archeron."

Elain leaned her head back and she searched his hazel eyes. "Is that a good thing?"

Something unreadable flashed in his eyes. "Yes."

And then he was capturing her lips in his to give Elain the sweetest kiss she'd ever had.

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

tag list (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @sjmships​ @sleeping-and-books​ @sirgwaines​ @books-for-sure​ @blowing-mikey​ @b00kworm​ @wineywitch202​ @liquifyme​ @maastrash​ @thewayshedreamed​

[freddiesaysalright]

Beautiful Mess Part 5

A Brian May x Reader Fic

Summary: Reader works in a bookshop. She meets Brian May and they have an instant connection. It seems to be a fairy tale romance. But, things are seldom what they seem.

Word Count: 3.1k

Tag List: @psychosupernatural​, @someone-get-a-medic​, @bensrhapsody​, @deakyclicks, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession​, @minigranger​, @crazyweirdocalledfriday​, @mrs-jack-murphy​, @not-john-watsons-blog​, @simmisblog​, @mirkwoodshewolf​, @assembledherethevolunteers​, @thosequeenboys​, @lv7867​, @maymacca​, @rethought​, @brianslittlepet​, @jinxy93​, @stephydearestxo​, @mrcleanisthicc​, @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls​, @readinghorn​ If you’d like to be added, let me know!

 A/N: A big reveal in this one, y’all!

Warnings: Smut! It’s pretty tame, though. Some unprotected sex, oral (f receiving) all that good stuff. If you’re not interested in smut, skip to the end for the big plot point!

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4

Part 5 here we go!!!

Brian practically dragged you through his front door. As soon as it was closed, he pushed you up against it, claiming your lips in a deep, frenzied kiss. Now that he had kissed you, he never wanted to stop. The feeling of you against him was intoxicating. He’d give up everything he had to continue kissing you. A heat in his lower belly told him he wanted more than just kissing from you, but if that was all you were prepared to give, he would gladly take it.

His lips trailed down to your neck and you rested your head against the door to grant him more access. The contact sent a shiver through you. You wrapped your arms around him to hold him impossibly closer. You moaned lightly.

“Brian,” you sighed. 

He pulled away and looked at you. “What is it, dove?”

You smiled. That endearment never got old. And when Brian said it, his voice dripped with affection, which also reflected in his eyes.

“I love you,” you said, bringing your hand to his cheek.

He closed his eyes to your touch as a smile spread across his lips. He hummed happily and pressed his lips to your palm. You knew he was going to say it back before he opened his mouth. His eyes met yours.

“I love you too, Y/N.”

You bit your lip and smiled up at him. Then you brought both hands to his chest, running them down the exposed skin. He was still a bit sweaty from the show, but it had cooled him down. When you reached the buttons, you began undoing them. As you went, you kissed his chest.

“God, Brian,” you whispered into his skin. “You’re so beautiful, baby.”

His breath hitched in his throat. You looked up at him.

“Which part did you like?” you asked with a smirk.

His cheeks went red. Your heart fluttered. Brain’s shyness was something you found incredibly charming. Especially juxtaposed with how he just looked on stage. You had the real Brian May and that made you feel honored. You were honored to be loved by him.

“Baby…” he muttered.

“You like when I call you baby?” you returned.

He nodded. You hummed and stood on your toes to put your lips by his ear.

“Can I take your shirt off, baby?” you asked.

He shivered. “Please.”

You ran your hands over his shoulders, pushing the shirt off and letting it fall to the floor. He pulled you in for another kiss and you moaned into his mouth when his fingers brushed the hem of your sweater.

“Take it off,” you breathed.

He pulled away and looked at you.

“Are you sure you want this?” he wondered. “We can stop whenever.”

“Brian,” you said with a soft smile. “I want you. Please don’t stop.”

He grinned. With that, he took hold of your jumper and yanked it over your head. You giggled and watched him toss it lazily over to where his shirt lay. His eyes roved over your exposed torso and you found yourself wishing you had worn a cuter bra. Your plain one just didn’t make you feel very sexy. But the way Brian was looking at you certainly made up for it.

He kissed you again, and when he reached around to hold you, he worked your bra clasp free. When he added it to the growing pile beside you, he held you flush against him. He stopped kissing you and just held you there. You wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your head against his chest. You remained there for a moment, skin to skin. Heart to heart. It was the most intimate and tender moment you’d ever shared with someone. You were so vulnerable, but completely unafraid. You squeezed him closer.

“D’you wanna come to the bedroom?” he asked gently.

“Mhm,” you agreed with a nod.

He took your hand and led you into his room. It was messy, but in a way that suggested he attempted to organize. Brian was so meticulous about music and science that he sort of lost all that energy in everyday things. There were papers on his dresser, and jewelry on his desk. His keys were on the bookshelf. You giggled.

“What?” he wondered.

“It’s so...you,” you said.

“So you like it then?”

“Very much.”

You reached for him, and he moved into your arms. He kissed you again as you both began kicking your shoes off. You giggled and went for the button of his jeans, but he stopped you, instead holding you close for another deep kiss. Then, he slowly lowered himself to kiss down your jaw, neck, and collarbones. His hands cupped your breasts at last and you sighed with relief. When he gently squeezed them, you groaned.

Your need for Brian was bone deep. Your whole body ached for him and cried out for his touch. Heat pooled between your legs as he took your nipple in his mouth. The other, he pinched between his fingers. Your hips already rocked toward him and you felt him smirk against you.

“I need more, baby,” you whined.

“We’ve got all night,” he returned.

“I am not patient,” you joked.

He playfully ran his hand down your back and pinched your ass through your jeans. You gasped and bit your lip to hold back the moan threatening to escape you. His mouth moved to the valley between your breasts and he nipped lightly at the skin. 

“Brian, please,” you moaned.

He chuckled. “Alright, then. Lie on the bed for me, dove.”

Eagerly you went to the bed. You unbuttoned your jeans and shimmied out of them before climbing on and lying back against the pillows. You got a good look at Brian now and you saw his cock straining against his pants. It only worsened when he watched you spread your legs for him. He saw the little wet spot on your panties and he swallowed a groan.

He crawled over you, his lips finding yours. His hips rested between your thighs. You kissed only a moment before he pulled away.

“Do you even know how beautiful you are?” he asked.

You grinned, reaching up to toy with a curl near his forehead.

“I know how beautiful you make me feel,” you returned. 

He kissed you hard, grinding his hips against you and making you whimper. The friction felt nice, but you were desperate for more. His hand snaked between your bodies. Excitement stirred in you as his middle finger ran down your clothed slit. You gasped when he brushed over your clit.

“There?” he teased, tapping it lightly.

“Yeah,” you returned as you arched into him. “Take my knickers off, baby, please.”

“I will,” he said, kissing your cheek. “Will you let me taste you?”

“Oh, God, yes,” you sighed.

He kissed his way back down your body, swirling his tongue around your belly button before teasing you at the waistband of your panties. You arched your back again, feeling absolutely deprived of the feeling of him.

“So needy,” he teased.

“Brian, please!”

“I’ve got you, dove,” he assured you.

He hooked a finger in the waistband and finally freed you from your last layer. You looked down and watched as he admired your wet heat. He smiled and ran a finger from your entrance to your clit, making your head fall back into the pillows with a groan. Then, he lowered his mouth and followed the same path with his tongue, making you gasp. This time, when he reached your clit, he wrapped his lips around it and sucked.

“Fuck!” you cried, heels digging in to the mattress.

Your hands jumped to Brian’s hair, holding him in place. He wrapped his arms around your thighs to keep them open for him.

He swirled his tongue around your clit, ran it up and down your folds again, and then returned to sucking. He continued with this pattern or some variation of it, and your whole body heated up. It felt like bolts of electricity running up your spine each time he made contact with your clit. Your walls were clenching already as you got wetter and wetter for him. The moans coming out of your mouth were pornographic and whiny.

You felt him tease your entrance with a finger and your hips bucked up into him. He plunged his middle finger inside and you cried out his name. You were so wet, he was able to get his pointer finger in as well and pump them steadily in and out. 

“Ooooohhhh, fuck!” you moaned. “Feels so good, baby - ah - shit!”

He hummed into you and you writhed, pushing your hips even further into his face. You tugged on his curls, making him groan as well. The coil in your belly was so tight, on the edge of snapping any second now. When he crooked his fingers right into your g-spot, you saw stars.

“Right there, Brian!” you cried. “Please, more!”

He did it again and you moaned. Your walls clamped down on his fingers. You were so close. Just a little more. He stopped moving his fingers and instead kept them sheathed inside you. He massaged your g-spot. With his mouth, he kept his attention directly on your clit, flicking and sucking it. Your legs trembled as your orgasm approached.

“Close,” you whined.

“That’s it, dove,” he egged you on. “Cum for me.”

He continued, picking up speed and adding some pressure. Each cry you released went higher in pitch as the pleasure mounted. 

“BRIAN!”

Finally, it snapped and you released, gushing into his mouth and over his fingers. He worked you through your high. You rocked against him as you steadily came down. When you were shaking and sensitive, he let up, climbing back up to kiss you. You tasted yourself on him, but the kiss didn’t last long since you were catching your breath.

He held himself over you, not wanting to overstimulate you by resting between your legs. When your breathing evened out, you tugged him down, already eager for you. Your rocked your hips up toward his, gasping at the feeling of his jeans against your throbbing clit. 

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Darling, don’t hurt yourself.”

“I won’t,” you panted. “Wanna feel you.”

“Let me get these fucking trousers off,” he grunted, coming up onto his knees and unbuttoning them.

As he clamored out of his jeans, you watched him hungrily. His cock tented his boxers. Your mouth watered when you saw the outline and small stain at the head. You went for the boxers and tugged them down his legs, freeing his cock at last. It had considerable length, which you liked. He was also hard and leaking. You swiped the bead of precum away and pumped him a few times. His hips bucked forward into your hand and he grabbed your wrist to stop you.

“You’ve already got me so hard, dove,” he said. “I’m not gonna last if you keep that up.”

“Well, do you want my mouth?” you offered.

He shook his head. “That’ll finish me off even sooner.”

“I feel like I should return the favor,” you said.

He kicked his boxers off and let them fall to the floor. Then he pushed you back down.

“Another time, okay?” he said. “I want to be inside you.”

You hummed happily. “I want you there too.”

He started to line himself up at your entrance, but then you grabbed his shoulders.

“Wait,” you said.

He shot  you a puzzled look. God, he was so cute with a furrowed brow and concern in his eyes.

“Can I be on top?” you asked. “Please?”

He grinned. 

“Of course, dove,” he replied. “Whatever you want. I’m yours.”

His words sent a warm feeling from the tip of your nose all the way to your toes. Yours. 

He rolled over so he was sitting up against the pillows. You threw a leg over him and scooted close. He wrapped his arms around you. Holding his gaze you sank down onto his cock. As you slowly took him, your mouth fell open at the way he stretched you. You gripped his shoulders and let out a low whine. He groaned and brought you even closer as he rested his head in the crook of your neck.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he grunted as you took him all the way in.

“Feels good, baby,” you panted. “God, you’re amazing.”

“Move whenever you’re ready,” he told you, bringing his hand forward to stroke your cheek with his thumb.

Still holding his shoulders, you rolled your hips forward. The head of his cock hit your g-spot exquisitely from this position and you let out a shaky moan. Brian pressed a kiss to your throat and took your breasts in his hands again.

You began a steady rhythm, rocking against him. You relished the feeling of him inside you - how deep he was and how perfectly he fit. Soft moans and praise fell from your lips as you went, and he just wrapped his arms around you again to hold you against him. Your foreheads touched and your breath mingled as you made love this way. His hips thrust up to meet your strokes. 

You sped up. Holding tightly to Brian, you snapped down onto him. Your walls clamped down again as your stomach tightened with your impending orgasm. His cock twitched as you did, letting you know he was close too.

“Can you cum again for me, dove?” he questioned heavily.

You nodded, eyes squeezing shut as you picked up the pace again.

“Touch my clit,” you said.

He brought both hands around. One he rested on your hip, clutching it with bruising strength. The other he squeezed between your bodies, finding your sensitive nub with his middle finger. You sucked in a sharp breath and your rhythm stuttered.

“Ahhhh, shit,” you hissed.

Your walls pulsated around him as he made hard fast circles on your clit. You bounced on his cock even faster and he groaned your name in a way that sent a fresh wave of pleasure down your spine.

“Brian - shit - I can’t - oh, FUCK!” you screamed as you came undone again.

You tried to slow to a stop but your thighs were shaking so much, you could barely keep yourself up. He kept up with his finger but held you still with his free arm while you rode out your second orgasm. Then he flipped you over so he was on top and began absolutely pounding into you, chasing his release.

Your mind was fuzzy with pleasure but Brian’s newfound vigor had you reeling even more. Short, high pitched whines left your throat, but no coherent words. You didn’t even have coherent thoughts. Everything was Brian and the feeling of him inside.

“Brian,” you finally choked out after collecting yourself. “Let go. Give it to me, baby.”

His pace faltered and he buried himself completely inside you.

“That’s it, bab - oh!” you gasped when you felt him release.

He thrust lazily as he started to ease back down and catch his breath.

“I love you,” he panted, kissing you.

“I love you too,” you replied.

You whispered it repeatedly to each other as your heart rates evened out and you kissed each other slowly. He pulled out of you and you whimpered at the empty feeling. He collapsed beside you and you cuddled up close. He draped his arm over you.

“You alright?” he asked.

“I’ve never been better,” you assured him. “You?”

He kissed your forehead. “Never been better.”

Giggling together, you fell asleep in his bed.

When you woke, it was still dark. Brian’s clock said it was not yet six in the morning. You gazed at him sleeping beside you and smiled. You truly loved him so much. You had never felt so in love. True, you had liked a few men, but you had never been in love. This was something special. You wanted it to last forever.

Your heart constricted. This was wrong.

Needing some space, you carefully got out of bed so you wouldn’t wake him. To get your mind off of what had happened, you explored Brian’s room, reading the book titles on his shelf and perusing the stack of necklaces on his desk.

Beside it, you saw a small box. You knew from the label that it was an expensive watch. Both Richard and Charlie had watches from the same company in Holland. You wondered how Brian had gotten such a thing. You opened it and saw an appropriately handsome watch, but then, a little card fell out. Curious, you picked it up and read it.

“To Brian May,” it said. “Thanks for taking care of our girl, Y/N. Charlie and Richard Kimball.”

Your heart began to pound as an overwhelming wave of guilt crashed over you. You were doing something terrible to these two men who cared so much about you. Tears stung your eyes and a lump formed in your throat. How could you have been so selfish? You started picking your clothes up off the ground and putting them on.

Brian woke to the sound of you walking around the room. He looked on groggily at you getting dressed. Then he heard you sniffle, making him alert.

“Y/N?” he said, sitting up.

“I’m sorry, Brian,” you choked out, wiping your face. “I’ve made a terrible mistake.”

“What?!”

Ignoring him, you swept from the room, retrieving your bra and jumper from the living room floor. Brian scrambled out of bed, threw on some boxers and followed you.

“Hold on, what’s going on?” he demanded.

He was completely bewildered, and rightfully so. Last night seemed so perfect. Yet here you stood, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Did I have it wrong?” he asked, horrified. “Did you not want -”

“No, Brian, I wanted everything,” you said. “I just shouldn’t have done it. It’s not fair to you or me or anyone else.”

“What are you talking about?” he wondered.

“I’m so sorry,” you sobbed. “But I can’t do this.”

“Why? What’s the matter?”

You looked at him at last, face tear stained and lower lip trembling.

“Brian, I’m engaged.”

Brian stepped back as if you’d struck him. And you might as well have. The crestfallen look on his face broke your heart. 

His whole mind went blank with the fresh hurt you’d just delivered. Engaged? Since when? To whom? He had no time to ask before you were gone. He didn’t even see you go. He only heard the door shut sharply. And then his whole heart shattered.

[thethoughtsfromthreeam]

California

Pairing: Agent Whiskey/Jack Daniels x OC

Warnings: Mentions of bodily harm, implied sexy times

A/N:  A reminder that Parts 11 and 12 run concurrently from different view points.  I love this chapter and it was almost cathartic to write it.  While obviously this is all fiction, I think we can all follow Shirley’s lead in this chapter and show ourselves a little love.

Reminder: I haven’t seen Kingsman: The Golden Circle, so I’m just using the Wikia, IMDB.com, some gifs, and my own weird ass brain to make up this whole ass story.

Tag List:  @zeldasayer , @romanticgumchewer, @tarrevizslas , @coolmaybelateruniverse , @the-feckless-wonder, @lavenderl3mons , @pascalisthepunkest , @mandoandyodito​ , @randomness501 [please message me to be added or subtracted]

[PART 1]  [PART 2]  [PART 3]  [PART 4]  [PART 5] [PART 6]  [PART 7]  [PART 8]  [PART 9]  [PART 10]  [PART 11]

Part 12 

Forgiveness

Several hours after she killed Agent Port, now known as Kirsch, Shirley spent time with Dr. Orange talking about the ordeal.  She found herself worried that she felt no remorse over killing someone.  If anything, she felt like she could kick up her heels and dance a jig with Merlin. Was she an unfeeling monster like him at heart?

“No.”  Said Dr. Orange.  “Five years ago, you experienced a severe trauma and while you may have gotten your life back, a little part of it was still held captive by the experience. Knowing he was still out there has been dogging you this entire time.  He’s gone and now you’re free.”

“Free.”

“Yes, free.  As a therapist I should tell you differently, but I think I can bend the rules just this once.  Shirley, you did the right thing by killing him.  You saved more lives, your actions will give comfort to the families and co-workers of the agents missing or dead, and for the love of god, you’re free to live your life without fear.”

Shirley’s eyes teared up because she knew what Dr. Orange was saying was right.  She had been living, but not really.  She never left HQ alone on the rare moments she did leave, she was granted permission not to be sent to another office, and she turned the library into her life. Even her interactions with her friends and Jack were stunted, limited by the weight of her scars and the man on the run who caused them.  Now, she could be herself again.  A fully bloomed flower.  A sunshiny Marigold.

They talked at little longer and after a long hug, Shirley left the office feeling pounds lighter.  Free.

---***---

Several Days Later

 The sun pouring into the bedroom nudged Shirley awake and she slowly opened her eyes.  For the first time in years, waking up felt truly pleasurable and she remembered what it meant to feel rested.  She shifted a bit before stretching like a cat.  Jack’s arm tightened around her waist, but he never woke up and she could feel his even breaths against her neck.  She laid in bed a little longer before she got up.  Jack mumbled in his sleep but rolled over to his back and quieted down again.

She padded across the room to begin her morning routine, the same one she had since she moved into their apartment.  Gathering her clothes to dress elsewhere so Jack wouldn’t see her scarred body, she went into the bathroom to clean up.  After washing her face and brushing her teeth and hair, she began to strip out of the long pajamas that she slept in.  

As she bent over to take off her pants, her eye caught her reflection in the mirror.  She noticed the scars along her chest were faded to almost nothing, small specks of silver as if a fairy kissed her and left marks.  She surprised herself at the thought – so opposite of how she saw those scars all these years.  Kiss marks on her chest made her think of something completely different.

“Moonshine, you are killing me in that dress.”  Jack groaned.  The wrap dress she wore was simple enough, almost knee length with three quarter sleeves. A modest number in purple with white flowers dotted all over it.

“This dress?  You’ve seen more skin than this before.” She laughed even as he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her flush against him.  He bent down and kissed the laughter from her mouth and she gently placed her hands on his forearms.  When he lifted his head, they were both panting, with want pooling heavy in both their stomachs.

“I could fuck you in this dress right here.”  She sighed as his lips made their way down her neck and to her cleavage.  She rested her cheek against the top of his head and moaned a little.  They had to leave soon, but she didn’t want to move. She loved it when Jack kissed her, touched her.  It made her feel alive.

“Jack, baby.  I’ll let you fuck me every day in this dress when I get home from California.  But we got to go, we don���t want to be late for lunch. Champ wants the meeting to start on time and I need to prep before I leave tonight.  The case can’t wait.”  He groaned slightly before kissing back up the path he forged and for good measure, kissed her again on the lips.

“You’re free.”  She whispered to herself.  She stripped off the rest of her clothing and as she stood there in just her underwear, she forced her eyes to really look at her body.  The one she had hidden away from everyone, even Jack.  It took many long months before she let him touch her intimately again, but rarely fully naked or in the light.  And even then, she still flinched at his touch and sometimes found herself fretting over Jack’s opinion of her body despite never been given a reason to do so.  The brain convinces us of the strangest things.

She turned her body this way and that, looking at healed scars.  Most of the back of her was covered in a network of scarred skin that had been burned in the explosion.  But after so many years, the skin had softened and didn’t look nearly as horrible as she remembered.  God, how long had it been since she really looked at herself?  The long scar along her hip was barely visible and she really couldn’t be certain where they had cut her open to insert the stabilizing rods in her ribs.

Had she really spent so much time fearing her own body that she completely ignored the healing of it?  The thought sobered her greatly.  All these years and she never once forgave herself for surviving.  She never once celebrated her body as it healed from devastating trauma.

Today would end that.  

---***---

She stood in front of the floor length mirror and started with her toes, wiggling them.  She smiled, she always thought she had cute toes and looking at them, they still were. Her eyes dragged up to her ankles and then her calves.  She smiled wider when she saw a small round scar on the side of her left calf.  It was her first one after her cousin accidentally shot her in the leg with a BB gun when she was four.

“Boone, I told you not to point that damn thing in the house!” Aunt Lisa hollered through the kitchen.  “If you don’t take that back to the damn shed, I’m gonna toss it into the damn landfill.”

“Okay, momma, no need to get huffy!”  Boone rolled his eyes and started to turn when he tripped, fell, and dropped the gun.  It went off, pinging against the stove and hitting Marigold, who was sitting on the table, in the leg.  She started to wail at the pain and began screaming when she saw the blood.

Aunt Lisa turned around in horror as Marigold’s mother soothed her child. Lisa’s eyes narrowed and she whipped her head around to look at her idiot son.  Boone took one look at his mother and ran out of the house screaming.

Shirley quietly giggled at the memory.  Her cousin was such a ridiculous creature and when she wanted to be silly, she’d recreate the scene for her friends. She turned the memory over in her mind before moving on.

There were her knees and her thighs.  They were softer these days, like everything else about her.  She wasn’t young anymore and stationary work was more her speed.  But they were strong and for a moment she had a memory of Jack’s head being cradled between them.  Her breath caught in her throat.

She kept going, looking at her hips and the swell of her mound under her panties.  She lightly touched herself and thought of all the times she woke up with Jack’s head laying on this very spot, snoring softly while his hands curled lightly around her hips.  He would claim he never slept better than on those nights.

Higher her eyes went to her soften belly, rounded and almost cute. Her waist was as straight as a board as it always had been, but Jack didn’t care.  He loved wrapping his arms around it when they hugged or slept side by side in bed.  She could almost feel his touch and her breath hitched again.

Her eyes dragged upwards to her breasts, where more of those little silver scars dotted her skin.  Like her stomach and thighs, there was a new softness that had settle there.  She decided the softness more was suited to her than it had ever been.  She thought of the time Jack ghosted his fingertips along her skin, tracing circles until her nipples peaked and she was breathless with want.  When he stopped touching her, she nearly cried, but gasped when he replaced his hands with his mouth.  She remembered her eyes opening wide with shock and pleasure, taking in the deep blue Wyoming sky above her.  She felt as if heaven settled all around her that day.

Grinning now, she scraped her eyes to her neck, where the scars wrapped around from the back.  She touched the skin and felt saddened at the loss of surface feeling.  She had loved it when Jack lightly placed his lips against the side of her neck and around to the back.  But the scaring was lighter and if there had been no wrinkling of the skin, one would never know she had been burned there.

Shirley held out her arms and looked at the three treated cuts on her left arm. Cuts that would also heal quietly back into nothing.  The slightly scarred skin of her upper arms smoothed out into her delicate hands.  She always had small hands, but they were capable. Capable enough to kill a man.  Her eyes flew back to her face a moment, but she felt nothing.  It was a moment in time and now it was gone.  She reminded herself that these same hands built her beloved library and were cradled by her friends in dark hours.  These hands were full of tenderness when they’d lightly skim across Jack’s face and down his neck and even lower.  He loved her hands, they brought him to ecstasy many times over.

She looked back at her face.  She had the comfortable softness of a woman in her thirties, where time reminded her of a life lived and yet of all the time left to live.  That she will live because she is here, breathing and alive. She was convinced her face even looked more radiant than it ever had, realizing that she carried the weight of worry on it for so long.  Her blue eyes seemed to sparkle at the thought.  They looked upwards after a moment.

Her hair was always a mousy brown, but this morning the sun highlighted the many silver strands that wove through it.  Most women avoided grays like the plague, but she ran her hands through her hair and smiled.  She loved them because she couldn’t wait to go grey – a salt and pepper look would better fit her than the current brown every could.  But she loved all of it, it was long and soft to the touch.  Jack could run his fingers through it for hours and she’d never tell him to stop.

She stepped back and looked at herself in the mirror again.  Wrapping her arms around her waist and dropping her chin to her chest, Shirley closed her eyes, giving herself the hug she deserved so much.  Digging deep into herself, she banished negative thoughts about her body.

“I love you.”

[clarasfm]

𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐋𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇 𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐀𝐍𝐄 ;; 𝒖𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒅𝒆𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒍𝒔 . . . 

the little things . . . 

× what does your muse smell like? what perfume/cologne are they using?

more often than not , sunscreen & vanilla . . . clara’s not really one to spend much time in the mornings to put extra effort in on a day to day basis , and what with being down south and all , and being such a fan of being outdoors , sunscreen’s kind of a daily thing . hints of vanilla come from shampoo & conditioner . but if she is wearing a perfume , you bet it’s daisy love by marc jacobs .

⌘ do they rather shower or take a bath? || ♀ how long does your muse usually need for a shower/bath?

r.i.p. anyone who ever lives with clara ( cough , devon ) because this bitch takes forever in the shower . baths aren’t really her thing , unless she’s had a couple really , really bad days in a row and she needs to chill . but otherwise a bitch just takes . . . incredibly long showers . first of all , her hair is–– a lot to maintain in and of itself , so there’s that , but also ! clara’s always moving a million miles a minute , and sometimes she forgets to slow down and breathe . so she kinda just . . . completely spaces out in the shower , yikes . better leave her be for , at the very least , 45 minutes , and hope there’s not a drought .

♂ does your muse put on make-up? how long do they need for it every day? || ⚢ what kind of make-up does your muse use? favourite colours? how much do they use?

daily ? nope . she’s lucky in the clear skin department , and more often than not goes barefaced . maybe a little bit of mascara , because the girl does have hella lashes , but for the most part she’s a clean slate . . . and that has a lot to do with the fact that she never really learned how to do her makeup . what ? y’all think jack sloane knew a damn thing about that stuff ? i mean we’re all for dismantling traditional & toxic masculinity , but come on . coach is coach . everything she knows , she’s learned from georgia and olivia , and even now , the art of getting the perfect wing is witchcraft to her . that said , warm tones . light shimmers . long lashes . golds & coppers & bronzes . that’s what you’ll find on her color palette .

♤ does your muse have any scars? where? what do they look like? how did they get them?

you bet she does . there’s just one to note on her left knee , and it’s not too hard to miss , despite fading over the last few years . clara started gymnastics when she was small , mostly because she had too much energy , and every sloane kid ever starts a sport at a young age . as she got older , she began competing , because that’s what sloanes do , and she was damn good , boys . was she into the competition part of it all ? not particularly , but she loved how powerful the sport made her feel . unfortunately , the week before she was meant to compete at the national level , when she was fifteen , she landed short during a practice and ripped ~~ the fuck ~~ out of her acl . the scar on her knee is from surgery to repair that incident , and afterwords , you bet clara sat her dad –– and her grandpa ––  down at the dinner table and said no sir , i am done with that . . . she can still tumble , she’s still pretty flexible , she likes to exercise those skills every now and again at a very mild level just for the sake of keeping that powerful feeling , but competing is a no - go . she’s happily on the sidelines .

♧ any freckles/moles/birth marks? where? || ♠ any ‘weird’ characteristics on their body

she gets a little freckle-y in the summer . her cheeks and her shoulders . she does have a small birthmark on her right hip , just low enough to hide under most bottoms . as for weird characteristics ? you should know clara wears her emotions on her face . she’s got a bad habit of blushing , as it just comes easily . also she can wiggle her ears :-) her dad used to tell her that meant she’d be the tooth fairy someday .

♥ do they have more muscles or more fat on their body? || ♦ any tattoos? where? what’s the story behind them?

clara is . . . almost all muscle . . . like the girl is very toned . after her knee injury , she slowly got back into working out , which is her way of kind of chasing that same feeling of power she used to get with gymnastics . as for tattoos ? she does , indeed , have one . it’s on her left side rib cage , in very small black font , and it’s just the numeric time stamp of her brother’s birthday . does her dad know ? absolutely . he’s got something similar etched into the workings of a colorless quarter sleeve . it’s the only ink he’s gotten since his twenties .

⦂ what clothes do they sleep in?

queen of drowning in 2xl t - shirts and hoodies . 9/10 times , that’s it , that’s all there is . a big tee over shorts . but occasionally the pendulum over swings back in the opposite direction , and she’s got a couple of silk sets she wears most often in the summer . and sometimes , you’ll find a cotton set of calvin kleins is . . . all sis can handle .

♚ do they have a favourite piece of clothing?

you BET she does ! two actually . she’s got a ‘vintage’ louisiana state football crew neck that she’s lived in for years . it’s . . . her dad’s from the early 90s , but she’ll always refer to it as vintage just to piss him off . she’s also got an old , distressed denim jacket that she wears everywhere .

❅ what do they usually wear when they’re NOT working? || ☏ what do they wear when they’re at work?

oh , man . clara is queen of faded denim and primary colors . she’s almost always in a big , thrifted t shirt with some busted vans and the aforementioned denim jacket . her hair ? almost always pulled back in a ponytail because there’s just a lot of it . if it’s not a big tee , it’s a cropped something or other . she’s got an array of athletic clothes , but only wears those to work out because clara sports cannot be your only personality trait ma’am !! at work , though ? when she’s on the field for her athletic trainer gig , best believe there’s a lil clara flare on the requirements . a dillon quarter zip or windbreaker , if it’s too hot , a. logo polo that she’d wear reluctantly . her hair is always pulled back into two very long braids , and often you’ll find a distressed dillon baseball cap on her head . . . backwards by the end of the game .

[gem-quest]

[QUEST o2. - E N T H R O N E D]

(written by @bebemoon)

mentions: @ayzrules @elissastillstands & @armadasneon​

. . . Quest 2 .

A few days passed without word from Inferna, and Neddy was beginning to think she'd been forgotten.

A pair of players were marrying in the gardens the week following the meadow fair. And Neddy made an appearance out of sheer curiosity-

The ceremony was within a tumble of pale pink blossoms beneath a flowering tree, and the fae—and even all who were stuck on the level—were in attendance, surrounding the couple of Moonstone players. Neddy recognised the groom as the gleaming Moonstone jouster from the fair. The bride was a tiny Healer with hair matching the blossoms overhead and a veil of glimmering chain mail set with white crystals. They seemed blissful- so much so that Neddy wondered about them.    

Besides, was this a binding union in the real world? Probably not since Finvarra was the one to marry them, and Neddy rather doubted the Prince was ordained for such an affair. He wasn't even real.

Maybe it didn't matter to them- at any moment, any of them could be skewered with a sword and die at once in two worlds. Might as well live happily and love when possible.  

Neddy shook her head. What an outlandish situation they all found themselves in . . .

-

There was a celebration afterwards, but in Yue City. Understandably, the happy couple wanted to be able to eat together as well as remain free of the fae.

Neddy stayed behind to put her feet up on the feast table alongside some of Finvarra's tittering wives to watch the dancing for a while. The feeling of isolation began to creep up on her once again.

Suddenly, there was a familiar trilling from her rucksack at her feet, barely audible over the fairy music. It was the sound the Plexus' messaging function made when a new message was received.

Excitedly, Neddy dug into the rucksack and drew the Plexus out. She swiped the screen, and the new message appeared. It was from Inferna- "Jack's Girlfriend" [fire emoji] in the Plexus.

The message read: WYD ???

Neddy replied with a long message detailing the wedding she'd just witnessed, overseen by the Prince himself.

To which the redhead pithily replied, "Bruh xD".

Neddy grinned at her screen.

Inferna went on to ask Neddy if she was ready to take on Aydina, and when Neddy indicated that she was "ready as she would ever be", the other girl sent back:

“Btw I invited 2 other ppl to join us for dodgeball- Morningstar and Balestra if u wanted to look them up! Hope that’s okay 💖💖💖 say hi to jack 4 me!!!!”

Attached to this was a selfie of the candy-redhead eating the apricot tartlets Neddy had paid her with.

Morningstar wasn't a name that Neddy recognised- but Balestra, she knew immediately. She was another Moonstone player- a celestial knight- with a griffin mount. If Neddy wasn't very much mistaken, the griffin ate some of the garden's fae NPCs. And Finvarra still recounted the incident like some sort of disastrous Biblical tale.

Maybe it would be good to have someone like that on her side? If Balestra's griffin ate Aydina, would that be an automatic win?

Neddy replied simply to Inferna with a thumbs-up emoji, but she couldn't help feeling a twinge of doubt.

-

I C T U I U M . to . M E R M A I D . C O V E .

Inferna and her two companions were already waiting in the level 30 foyer—a wide glass room looking into the beachy landscape beyond with huge, flat screens showing players already in action on the level—when Neddy blinked in.

Seeing the sparkling sea spread out to her left, Neddy's first inclination was to start singing “La mer”.

Inferna's disappointment that Neddy had shown up sans Jack was instantly perceptible. The redhead pushed her lip out and raised one hand to her hip.

“Where’s Jack?” she said, pouting dramatically. “I even brought him a huge thing of sugar cubes! And a fresh batch of sauce.”

Neddy pulled an apologetic face. "Sorry, he's been M.I.A. for a couple of days," she told her. "He does that, I'm finding."

A slip of a girl with a crown of curls and a longsword on her hip was leaned up against one of the glass walls. She nodded at Neddy by way of a greeting.

Inferna jerked her chin at her. "That's Balestra," she said, grinning. "Moonstone rider like yourself. Maybe you know her?"

Neddy didn't want to bring up the gardens fiasco in case it was a sore spot with Balestra, and so she lied. "Oh, er, no- I-I don't believe we've met, actually," she stammered. "I'm Neddy. I swear I'm a real rider- my mount is just . . . I don't think he'd be much good at dodgeball anyway."

Three pairs of eyes regarded Neddy. She didn't know why she was so nervous, but she knew everyone could tell that she was.

At least Inferna seemed to be enjoying herself, as usual. She snorted in the silence. "And that's Morningstar over there," she said, thumbing the other player in the foyer.  

The third pair of eyes were almost too haunting to properly look into. They belonged to a ribbon of white slashed with violent red- a crown of berries, Neddy realised. Intimidatingly, a crystal scythe lay across her shoulders and her arms were draped over either side of the polearm. She looked a bit crucified.

The phantom made no move to acknowledge Neddy. However, her strange golden eyes stayed pinned to her.

Neddy merely raised her hand in a meek wave. "Hello."

Morningstar said nothing.

Inferna clapped her hands to break the bizarre tension between the four of them. "Well, let's go kick some ass!" she declared and punched the air. “I just confirmed with the other seven people who agreed to join our party. Three Ammolite, two Obsidian, two Moonstone.”

Neddy was impressed. Inferna was certainly on top of things. Perhaps more apricot tartlets were in order.

Inferna flashed them a cheeky grin. “Let’s go down to the beach?”

-

Neddy considered herself fortunate to have gotten some intimidating figures on her side for this dodgeball match- especially considering the others Inferna had rounded up. Not an inspiring bunch. But Inferna had only been looking to fill out the team.

Mermaid Cove was beautiful. The beach was blush and the sky was bright. The harbour was bustling at one end of the shore and magnificent pirate ships bobbed in the offing. Up the beach, giant pink conch shells were set upright in the sand and hollowed out into stalls that sold necessities like medi-elixirs, pep potions, and replacement gear. An old one-eyed woman with a blue parrot on her shoulder was selling fried octopus tentacles in shell-shaped baskets. A length of fishing net was draped over the market area and all manner of scavenged sea treasures and seashells were strung up, dangling over the customers as they browsed.

Neddy wanted to roam the market area for a while, but Inferna was all business. 

Inferna led them through the intro ordeal, having one of the other players activate the in-game event with the NPC shopkeeper, since Inferna herself had already completed the level and therefore could not activate it again. 

Inferna tapped her foot impatiently as the NPC ran through her whole sob story about how the mermaids had created Angel’s Breath to revive drowned humans, how the pirate queen Aydina and her eleven crew members had killed off all the mermaids to keep Angel’s Breath for herself-

Finally, the NPC said, “If you get the pirates to leave the town, I’ll show you where the last Angel’s Breath is hidden.”

“Great, let’s go,” said Inferna, then she directed the rest of the group to the shoreline.

As they stood on the beach, she threw her finger in the direction of the sea where a massive dome was rising slowly out of the water.

"Look, look!" Inferna shouted. "There it is!"

The others crowded around to watch in awe as the dome continued to surface, throwing off water and a terrible mechanical noise that scraped the ears.

"We're going into that thing?" Neddy asked, her stomach flipping.

Meanwhile, a pirate ship-complete with a skull and crossbone flag-sailed into view. Inferna rolled her eyes. “Yeah, in a sec,” she replied. “Aydina has some dialogue that we have to sit through. God fucking damn, but the NPC shit in this game gets so tedious.”

It wasn’t much longer before Aydina, the pirate queen, sauntered up over to them, her crew right behind her. With an unruly mane of fiery red curls, fierce eyes, and dressed in sheer black chiffon that billowed dramatically in the breeze, with lacy black gloves that went up to her elbows and a pair of badass black boots to match. 

Inferna cut to the chase. Apparently, sometimes you could skip the intro dialogue if you talked faster than the NPCs. “Yo, Aydina! Get the fuck out of here.”

The NPC gave Inferna a disparaging look. “How are you going to make me?”

“I challenge you to a dodgeball game,” she replied tightly, and Aydina nodded her agreement.

“Time to go!” Inferna crowed, evidently pleased that she’d successfully gotten Aydina to skip through most of the annoying dialogue. 

A narrow walkway of roped-together driftwood began to rise out of the sea. It did not look the least bit steady, and Neddy was ready to forego the whole thing just at the sight of it.

The sea is beautiful, yes. But it is also crushing and fathomless. And Neddy had always had a fear of it. The prospect of going beneath the ocean's surface was almost debilitatingly frightening. 

She hated herself for wishing Callum was there to hold her hand.

But no sooner had the thought of him crossed her mind that Inferna was taking her hand and pulling her towards the rickety walkway. 

“Come on, move your ass,” Inferna said, shooting her a playful look as she tugged her along. “Be careful during the actual game, though. Aydina can randomly let water into the court and drain it out whenever she wants. It’s the biggest pain ever.”

Neddy wanted to sink inside herself at that, but- it felt almost as if Inferna was passing some of her chaotic strength through her fingers into Neddy’s. And her feet moved to follow after the redhead. 

-

They marched into the dome, and the door sealed off behind them, metal clanging as the dome sank back under the sea to rest on the sea floor. The dome itself was made out of some kind of transparent material, allowing them to see the various sea creatures and coral formations surrounding the place. 

Inferna paused, causing Neddy to pause too. The redhead seemed to have noticed a throng of excited players making their way back to the foyer, where they’d be able to watch the game on the screens. 

“What?” Neddy wondered, dividing a look between the Inferna’s face and the other players. 

“If we win-” Inferna cut herself off and then winked at Neddy. “When we win, those players will be swarming all over us the second we get back to land- for the Angel’s Breath. Best to have a few ictuium potions on hand.” 

Inferna said as much to Balestra and Morningstar as well. Then, Aydina was explaining the rules of the game to them.

“If the ball-” and here she summoned the “dodgeball” out of thin air, which was an enchanted turtle shell- “hits you, and then hits the ground, you’re out. If you catch the ball, you’re safe. If the ball bounces off of you and one of your teammates catches it, you’re both safe. But, if the ball bounces off of you and someone on the other team catches it, you’re out.”

Inferna cast Neddy a sideways glance. “Don’t get hit,” she advised. “That thing packs a punch on its own, but depending on her mood, Aydina can make it stab you with barnacles, shock you, or spray disgusting gross poisonous stuff that’ll kill you before the time is up.”

Aydina rolled the ball over to where Inferna was standing. “I’ll let you guys have the first go,” she said, smirking confidently at them, looking directly at Inferna. “Since I feel sorry for you. How many brain cells do you have, to be wearing such an atrocious hat?”

“Fuck you!” Inferna shot back as she picked up the ball. “You’re such a fucking cunt.”

The pissed-off redhead gave the other eleven people a questioning look. “Well, should I go for it? Or do one of you guys want to do the honors?”

-

[ You can pick up here or back up a bit or do as you like if you end up taking this quest up ! No instructions for Neddy (but keep in mind she’s not a strong player), just do as you like and make sure they win ! ^^ And, if you need any help at all, just ask either Ayz or me~ ] 

[turtle-steverogers]

Rumble (1/2)

mmmm greasers and socs we stan

also its like 1:40 so uh yah be gentle ik my writing ain’t thriving rn

warnings: homophobic slurs, heated make out seshes, uhhh knives/stabbing, bad 1 am writing im sorry

ship: sprace

word count: 2600

-

Electricity coursed through Race’s veins as Spot reached up, tangling his fingers in his blonde curls and tilting his head, deepening the kiss even further.  Race hummed, tightening his grip on Spot’s waist and pushing him further against the wall, smirking against Spot’s lips when the breath of a moan escaped him.

It was thrilling, the leather of his own jacket combating the blue boiled wool of Spot’s letterman one.  They weren’t supposed to be doing this, the long standing rivalry between the Greasers and the Socs holding strong.  But Spot Conlon and Racetrack Higgins had never been known to stick to the status quo.  

It had started as a heated fling.  Adrenaline riding high after a particularly intense rumble one evening led them to Race’s dingy bedroom, where they had spent the night on his mattress, words scarce and breaths heavy.  They’d played around like that for a while, stealing kisses when no one was looking, holding teasing eye contact across classrooms.  It drove Race crazy, though.  He wanted more, his passion for Spot giving way to love, care for the Soc worming its way into his stomach and seizing hold of his heart.

This internal conflict, however, was quickly resolved when Spot had pulled him into the boy’s restroom between periods, leading him into a stall and kissing him gentler Race could have imagined.  He’d whispered his love onto Race’s lips, insisting that they become something closer than what they were.  

Race had agreed, but they had a reputation to uphold.  For as long as anyone could remember, they hated each other.  A childhood bond breaking awfully when Spot’s dad got a decent job and moved their family to the other side of town, instilling a jarring pretentiousness within Spot and damaging his friendship with Race.  

So, although the hateful feelings had ceased, the snide remarks and nasty sneers remained ever present when they were in public.  It was a painful mask to wear, biting names at each other and digging into known insecurities for the sake of their act.  It worked, though, because no one suspected a thing.

Race ducked his head down, pressing a bruising kiss to Spot’s neck, allowing his teeth to graze the skin.  He began to suck a hickey into the sensitive area, but stopped when Spot nudged him away.

“Mm, the last one just faded,” he breathed, watching Race through lidded eyes.

Race just smiled, “All the more reason to leave another,” he kissed Spot briefly, reaching around to grasp Spot’s ass, squeezing it playfully, “gotta let everyone know you’re unavailable.”

Spot narrowed his eyes, though there was no hint of malice in them, “Fine, but if you’re gonna leave one, go lower.  Bumlets noticed last time.”

Race swallowed, alarm spreading through his veins, “Did he ask you anythin’?  What’d ya tell ‘im?”

“Relax,” Spot said, easily, playing with the curls at the nape of Race’s neck, sending a jolt down his spine, “Told ‘im I made out with Sarah Jacobs.”

Race’s eyes widened momentarily before he cracked a grin, a laugh forcing its way out of his stomach, “Sarah Jacobs?  That David kid’s sis?”

“That’s the one.”

Race snickered, “Did Bumlets buy it?”

Spot shrugged, “Guess so, he was off my ass after that.”

Race whistled, “Does Sarah know you two apparently made out?”

“I told her I needed a cover,” Spot said, looking mildly uncomfortable, “But I didn’t say what for.”

“Did she ask?”

Spot shook his head, “Just went with it.”

“Good friend,” Race said, nodding approvingly.  His eyes flicked down to Spot’s lips, “Now where were we?”

Spot laughed, leaning in to kiss him, “So eager.”

“Yeah well,” Race fisted Spot’s jacket, tearing it off his shoulders and making Spot gasp, “You’re irresistible.”

Race left their little escapade with Spot’s jacket still held loosely in his grip and a bounce in his step.  The sun was completely set by the time he ventured back to his neighborhood, wandering down the street freely until he came up to his house.  

“Where were ya?”

Race froze, the blood draining from his face as he turned to the side, shoving Spot’s jacket behind his back.  Seated on the rickety armchair that had always resided on the front porch was Race’s brother, Albert, arms crossed at his chest.  He wasn’t wearing a shirt and a pair of their other brother, Jack’s, old pajama pants hung casually on his hips.  It was obvious that he was about to go to bed.  

“And what did you just try to hide from me?” Albert pushed, raising his eyebrows and nodding to Race’s arm, which was still behind his back.

“Mind your own business,” Race snarled, a blush creeping onto his cheeks.

Albert studied him for a moment, his gaze landing on Race’s hair, “Why is your hair all fucked- oh my god,” his expression changed from one of skepticism to pure shock, “You’re hookin’ up with someone, ain’t ya?”

Race spluttered for a moment, feeling his blush deepen, “No,” he sounded entirely unconvincing.

Albert smiled, hopping up with way too much fervor for Race’s liking, “You are! Who is she?”

Race grit his teeth, eyes shifting away from Albert.  He couldn’t lie to him- he’d never been able to- but he couldn’t tell the truth either.

“No one,” he mumbled, “‘M goin’ ta bed.”

He hurried inside, briefly glancing down the hallway to where he could see Jack reading on their ratty sofa, before bounding up the stairs.  He slammed his bedroom door, locking it behind him and slumping down on his matress, kicking off his shoes along the way.  He wriggled out of his jacket and jeans and pulled his blankets up to his chest, tucking Spot’s jacket under his head, breathing in the comforting and familiar smell.  

He allowed it to lull him to sleep, calming his nerves as he was pulled under.

XXX

“Higgins, where’d ya get those jeans?”  Race set his jaw, fighting the urge to smile as Spot’s voice entered his auditory, “Did your mother buy them for you?  Oh wait,” Spot clicked his tongue, “Guess she can’t now that she’s what, six feet under?  If you could even afford to get her properly buried.”

Race turned towards him, noting the apologetic undertone in his voice, “Nah, got them from your parent’s closet when I was visiting your mom last week,” he leaned against his locker, “I must say, she’s really brilliant when she’s-”

Spot lunged forward, slamming him against the locker and biting his lip to keep from laughing, “Don’t you dare speak about my mother like that, Higgins,” he growled.  Race had to give him credit, his acting was brilliant.  

“Or what?” Race countered, reluctantly shoving him back and taking note of the small crowd that had circled around them.  Spot pretended to flounder for a moment and Race took the opportunity, “You Socs are honest pussies when it comes to fights,” he scoffed, “Suck my dick, Conlon.”

Spot’s eyes flashed and he grabbed Race’s ear, yanking him down to his level and whispering, “Better meet me out behind the school after last period,” he pulled away, raising his voice once more, “And that’s a promise, Higgins,” the crowd around them hooted, obviously expecting some sort of threat to be fulfilled, “Watch your back.”

Race watched him leave with his posse, letting his guard down.  Faux fights with Spot always instilled some sort of excitement in him, the lie a fast wave to ride.

The school day crept by painfully.  Race sat restlessly in his classes, bouncing his leg vigorously as he watched the clock tick excruciatingly slow.  He was out of his seat, backpack slung haphazardly on his back the moment the bell rang, He walked faster than strictly necessary to the back of the school, where Spot was already waiting.  A cigarette hung lazily from his lips and he looked up as Race approached, plucking it from his mouth and holding it out in a silent offer.

Race took it blindly, pulling a deep drag before chucking it to the ground and stepping on it as he moved forward, pinning Spot to the wall and pressing their mouths together.  The taste of the cigarette melded between them, adding a certain heat to their already intense session.  Spot gasped against his lips, whining when Race reached down, unzipping his fly and unbuttoning his khakis.  

“Aye, Conlon, there you-”

Spot drove Race away from him, fumbling to fix his pants as Hotshot approached, looking both confused and furious.

“What, are you two fucking or something?” He barked, rounding on Spot, “Thought you wanted nothing to do with this Greaser scum.”

Spot seemed to regain his composure, “I don’t,” he said, voice low, “He came onto me, I was just about to beat the shit out of his faggot ass.”

Race winced, mentally forcing himself to remember Spot was pretending.

Hotshot frowned, nose scrunched in disgust, “Yeah?  Kinda looked like you were enjoying it.”

Spot rolled his eyes, attempting to shoulder past Hotshot, “Whatever.”

Hotshot grabbed his bicep, holding him in place, “You two really wanna prove your little rendezvous wasn’t what it looked like? Be at the lot tonight at sundown.  Shouldn’t matter what happens if these little fairy flings are fake.”

Hotshot threw Spot to the ground, spitting next to him before leaving.  Race watched him go, making sure he was out of sight before reaching down a hand to help Spot up.  Spot shook his head, his chest heaving as he hoisted himself to his feet.

“We could run,” Race said, “Leave before tonight.”  He was trembling, certain that his face matched Spot’s pale expression.

Spot looked like he was having some sort of aneurysm as he backed away, “No, I, uh-” he sounded breathless, scared, “I gotta go, I’ll see you...tonight, yeah, uh.  Be there,” he finally looked at Race, “Please.”

Race shook his head, dumbfounded, “Spot, we don’t have ta-”

But Spot was gone, footsteps echoing as he ran in the opposite direction.

XXX

Race sat on his mattress, nausea turning in his stomach as he watched the sky change through his window.  There was probably homework he could be doing, but what did it matter if he was just going to be killed this evening.  Rumbles were unpredictable; a nasty throttle of blood and animosity.  It was rare that anyone actually died, but that didn’t stop the worst possible outcome from crawling into his brain.

These things were huge, large sums of both sides turning up for each one.  Race usually liked them to a degree, finding the exhilarating atmosphere entertaining, but that was when he wasn’t the center of the conflict.  Now, it was just sickening.

“Aye, if you’re coming to the rumble, we should get goin’ now.”  Jack peeked his head into his room.  

Race forced himself to look at his older brother, trying to smile as convincingly as he could.  He hadn’t told Jack and Albert that he was a key contender in the rumble, just that there was one.  Though, in hindsight, he should’ve refrained from talking about it at all- not that it would have stopped them from finding out.  Word gets around fast.

“Yeah, uh, yeah,” Race said, clearing his throat and scooting forward to pull on his shoes, “Al comin?”

“You know the kid,” Jack leaned against his doorframe, holding out Race’s jacket for him, “Could never pass up the chance ta watch a fight.”

Race choked out a laugh, though it sounded more like a whimper, “Yeah,” he flinched as his voice cracked.

Albert was already waiting at the bottom of the stairs, shoes tied and jean jacket on, “C’mon guys, the sun’s settin’!” he exclaimed, reaching out and pulling Race out the door, “It’s gonna start soon.”

With each step Race took towards the lot, it felt like he was approaching his doom.  He wanted nothing more than to curl up with Spot and find comfort in their closeness, but he couldn’t have that now.  Besides, Spot was clearly mortified, there was no way he was up for cuddling right now.

The mass of people in the lot was visible even from a distance, already divided seamlessly into two sides.  The three boys approached, naturally fusing into the side that housed the Greasers, blending in with the hoard of rowdy looking boys.  Race’s eyes scanned the other group, immediately finding Spot at the head of the crowd, clad in his favorite red sweater.  He was jeering at someone from the Greasers, though Race could sense the apprehension emanating from him.  

He tried to blend in, staying purposefully towards the back, but it was no use.  He made piercing eye contact with Hotshot and felt the blood drain from his face as the Soc’s face morphed into one of triumph.  He shoved his way to the middle of the split and held his fingers to his mouth, whistling loudly enough to gain everyone’s attention.  Race looked back at Spot, who was staring at Hotshot, lips parted slightly.  

“We’re gathered here this fine evening,” Hotshot began, his tone innocent, but eyes fiery, “Because I had the pleasure of witnessing something extraordinary,” he had everyone’s apt attention now, “See, I was walking after school, looking for our favorite shorty here,” he yanked Spot out of the crowd and Spot grimaced, looking like he wanted to disappear, “When I found him behind the school,” he paused for affect, “Pants unbuttoned and tongue down the throat of-” Murmurs were already rippling through the crowd, “Racetrack fucking Higgins.”

Race shut his eyes as he felt every head turn towards him.  Somewhere to his left, he could hear Albert mumble, ‘what the fuck’, along with a few confused hoots from other people.  He wanted to run.  He wanted to grab Spot and skip town and pretend that none of this was happening- that they were okay.  But his feet were glued to the spot.

“Now, I’m sure it was a simple misunderstanding,” Hotshot spoke again, “Seeing as it is common knowledge that these two cannot stand each other,” Race gasped as someone pushed him to the middle, “I’m sure this little debacle can be cleared up.”

Race opened his eyes, sucking in a breath when he realized how close he was to Hotshot and Spot.

“You two hate each other, yes?” Hotshot hissed, leaning in close to him.

Race nodded vigorously.

“Prove it, then,” Hotshot jabbed, producing a switchblade from his back pocket, “Stab him.”

Race choked, “Stab Spot?  You want me to stab your best friend?”

Hotshot laughed, “He’s not my best friend,” he said, “Not as long as he’s okay with kissing on other men,” he pressed the knife into Race’s hand, “Now go.”

Race stared at the blade, turning it over in shaking hands before flipping it open.  He could feel the crowd watching him with baited breath and he spared a glance at Spot, who was watching him with desperation written on his face.  Race focused his eyes, making a split second decision.

He lunged forward, tackling Spot away from Hotshot and pinning him to the ground, driving his knee into his side.  He flipped open the knife and held it between them, watching as Spot’s expression calmed.

“I love you,” Spot murmured, breaths evening out, “Do what you have to, it’s okay.”

Race drank in his expression, bathing in the warmth of his rich brown eyes and cherishing the beauty in his hard features.

“I love you, too,” He muttered back, “I’m sorry.”

He took a deep breath, plunging the blade into his own stomach.

-

nnng yeah im gonna write a pt 2 dw dw we’re not jus leavin it there

thanks for reading, chiefs

hmu to be added to my tag

TAG LIST: @bencookisagod @we-dont-sell-papes @suddenly-im-respecsable

@aw-jus-let-em-try 

@well-the-kids-do-too @spot-conlon-king-of-brooklyn @felix-loves-albert-and-ralbert @axolotlwhizzy

@andthewoildwillknow @the-newsies-justice-for-zas-blog @sunshine-e-cigarettes @have-we-got-news-for-you @musical-shitposts @thebroadwayaesthetic

@thomasbeingthomas

@irondad-spiderson-duo

@snakesarenonexistent

@i-got-no-clue-what-im-doing

@kpop-kk

@mentallytiredgoat

@yxseminx

@be-more-chill-evan-hansen

@stopthe-presses

@elmers-half-a-cup

@and-i-lostmy-shoe

@spot-me50-papes

@honeynutpoptarts

@newsies-ensemble

@bennie-badeend

@auspicioustarantula

@faithmil

@hopefully-not-the-ghostbusters

@bxnesof92

@backgroundnewsies

@sure-as-a-star

@skybert-daherty

@eveningpaper

@malex-13

@albert-eats-cookie-cake

@heart-a-n-o-n

@bitching-newsboys

@orollyitsracetrackhiggins

@joshuaburrageenthusiast

@random-superhero-stuff

@awkwardstranger98

@falling-out-trees-101

@modern-race-owns-airpods

@asphodelnerd

[sculptorofbeginningslibrary]

Black Eyes & Bloodlust - Chapter 15

My Masterlist

Black Eyes & Bloodlust Masterlist

Summary: Dean has never met his Omega, never even thought there could be one waiting for him–but she’s out there, and they’re connected in ways they could never have imagined.

Characters: DeanxReader, Sam, Cass, a few OC’s

Warnings: Eventual smut so typical A/B/O warnings,Slow burn (and I mean it. SLOW BURN GUYS.)Language, depictions of mental illness, Gore and Violence, (Warnings will apply to all chapters just to cover all the bases.)

Word Count: ~3,140

A/N: New aesthetic/header by @tumbler-tidbits​ and I loveeee it! Thank you so much! ALSO! Chapter 16 WILL NOT be the last. The end is in sight, but it’s not here yet ;) 

Unbeta’d for reasons, but heavily edited by me, so if you find mistakes that irk you PLEASEEEE  message me so I can fix them :)

Enjoy!

__~*~__

Halfway to the hospital Sam broke the silence, taking a quick scan of the poor Omega girl, Carrie, to make sure she was still fast asleep before speaking. “Cas, we can’t let him do this.”

“It’s done by now, Sam.” Castiel didn’t miss the clench of Sam’s jaw, but with what he now knew, this had been inevitable. In this particular fight against Fate, they’d lost miserably. “It was done the moment we let him take her. Getting between an Alpha and his Omega is never an intelligent decision, but I felt their connection, Sam. When I healed Y/N I sensed her soul and it was--” Castiel huffed, frustration seeping through as he came to terms the new information in his head, then tried to form the words to make Sam understand. “--Her soul is damaged similarly to Dean’s. It’s whole, I think, but I don’t believe either of them will ever be the same. The Mark is--”

“I know, Cas.” Sam whispered, “I know what the Mark does.” A long silence stretched as Sam attempted to sort out what this all meant for his brother. “You know...this is the worst time for Dean to shove off into some--some, extra jacked up Bonnie and Clyde murder act. I mean Cas, she killed like nine people, and that’s only what we know of! She killed a hunter, you said so yourself. We’ve killed monsters for less, and Dean’s barely holding on as it is--”

“--It’s not her fault Sam. Y/N is not a monster, she’s a human. I would think that you of all people--”

“--It’s just that throwing himself into an Omega just as messed up as he is--” Sam’s knuckles whitened where he gripped the steering wheel tighter.

“--Is a recipe for disaster, yes, I know, but they are true mates. There’s nothing we can do.”

“There always something Cas.” The silence resumed, loaded and heavy, and continued even after the girl had been properly dropped off at the hospital. 

__

Sam didn’t quite understand why Castiel hadn’t flitted off to somewhere less stressful, normally he’d be gone by now. Instead of leaving, Castiel stayed by his side as they walked back to their own motel from Lane’s.

“True mates, huh?” Sam asked after a while, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket. The concept was so foreign; he wasn’t sure either him or Dean had ever even believed in any such thing, especially with the lives they lived. The side streets were dark and empty, devoid of anything interesting enough to keep Sam from overthinking. The Alpha knew the Angel was right about one thing, atleast: it wasn’t Y/N’s fault she’d gotten wrapped up into this mess they’d created. Castiel nodded solemnly.

“That must be the source of their psychic connection.”

“I thought that was just some fairy tale...or just genetic compatibility or something.” Castiel shook his head.

“Not at all. They’re rare, but it is a soul connection. You probably have one waiting somewhere as well.” 

Sam avoided Castiel’s last statement. “Did you see anything else while you were in her head?” The side-eye Castiel gave him before looking away spoke volumes. “What? What did you see? Anything that could help us figure out the Mark?” Sam found he was almost afraid of the answer as Castiel inhaled deeply.

“I saw...everything Sam, but there’s nothing inside Y/N that can help us find a cure.”

__~*~__

Dean’s thick fingers kneaded into your shoulders, lazily exploring the dip and curve of your muscles. Your smile was soft as you let his tingling touches wander your skin while your fingers trailed over the keys of the cheap keyboard, playing ‘See You Again,’ the song that had been haunting him. When he’d explained how you had followed him in that way you’d had to giggle. It wasn’t your favorite song like he, and apparently Lane, thought--oh god, Lane, you thought, but pushed it away-- it just happened to be the one you’d been playing when you had collapsed the first time. It had haunted you too, you thought. It was hard to be sure.

Memories were still surfacing and rearranging inside your head, forcing you to sift through the mess. However, the night everything had begun had been clear as glass since it had come back.

An average day in your average life had ended with a glass of wine and your piano, grumbling about your shitty workday and contemplating yet another dating site until suddenly you’d found yourself in searing pain and curled into a ball on the floor. From then on it had been nothing but nightmares and sleepless nights until you’d been committed.

Telling Dean that part of the story was equal parts cathartic and painful, but you hadn’t been able to explain past being released from the facility. Those memories were still too much, but Dean knew enough to fill in the blanks on his own.

He’d dreamt your experiences as you had his.

Dean connected the timelines for you carefully, and realized you had been connected since he’d taken The Mark. Then he’d managed to explain what the Mark of Cain even was, and how he’d come to recieve it. That story had culminated with your tears but ended with you on all fours, just like every snippet of conversation the two of you had attempted since mating the first time. His bite mark throbbed deliciously, igniting the heat still simmering under your skin.

He couldn’t keep his hands off you, even when he wasn’t fucking you. The need for your skin on his was almost a physical presence it was so intense, and your scents had long ago combined into something intoxicating that kept you both on the edge of arousal for what had seemed like days, though it had only been overnight. The sunlight peeking through the curtains and spilling onto the shitty carpet was mesmerizing as you tapped the last key and held it, letting the sound linger. Behind you, Dean raised up and planted a soft kiss to the back of your neck.

“It’s so much prettier when you play it.” He mumbled, his mouth settling over his bite to worry his teeth at the healing scar.

“Mmm, yeah. I’ve had some practice...but I think I’d rather hear you sing it.” Dean knew you’d heard him sing before, while you’d been sleeping, but he groaned at the thought of having to do it again.

“Not today sweetheart.”

“Oh come on,” you turned around and pressed against him, forcing him onto his back so you could crawl over him. “I love it.” When you pecked your lips teasingly against his, Dean grabbed your hips and pinned his erection between your bodies, following your mouth up as you tried to pull away.

__~*~__

Sam hadn’t slept well, spending all night after Castiel explained what he thought had happened to you doing research. He’d sent the Angel to the bunker for some books he thought might help, but in the end Sam had fallen asleep at the little motel table, drooling over the ancient tomes until the shrill ringing of his cellphone dragged him from the fitful rest.

“Agent Betts?” Officer Bishop asked the second his call was answered.

“Hm?” Sam grunted, sleep leaving him confused for a moment. “Oh, yeah. Yes. Can I help you?” The voice was familiar, and he shook the grogginess off quickly when he realized it was Bishop.

“One of Y/N’s doctors is back at the station, and uh...he says he has information about her he needs to share, but he won’t talk to anyone but you.”

“I’ll be right there.”  After hanging up, Sam checked his messages. He hoped there would be one from Dean, but there were only three missed calls--all from Lane--and a text from Castiel about having some business to take care of. The latter worried him, but not as much as not hearing from his brother.

Half an hour later, Sam was sitting across from a seemingly different man than he’d met the first day they’d arrived. Instead of bristling when the giant Alpha walked through the door, Doctor Cameron slouched his shoulders and shifted his gaze down to the table. Sam frowned, immediately realizing the man had been through the ringer. His initial theory that both doctors were in on Y/N's situation was revised upon seeing the doctor was disheveled, sporting a deep black eye with a giant knot beside it.

“Morning, Doctor,” Sam said evenly as he dropped to the chair across from Cameron.

“I know you’re not FBI,” Cameron conspiratorially leaned forward and whispered, his normally flat voice holding a frantic edge.

“That so?” Sam raised an eyebrow, only mildly surprised at the turn of events. Maybe this doctor knew more than Sam was giving him credit for.

“Yes. I know Doctor Mara wasn’t human. And I know your name is Winchester.”

Sam didn’t like the sound of that, and leaned forward menacingly. He kept his eyes locked to the other Alpha’s and his shoulders squared. Cameron bristled when Sam’s scent strengthened, dominating his own. The hunter’s voice held a dangerous edge, telling Cameron to tread carefully as Sam growled out,  “I’m listening.”

__~*~__

“Do you think it was the hypnosis or the magic?” You asked breathily, right hand stretching over Dean’s ribs at the spot over his heart. The thick thumps were just as frantic as yours, but slowing down as he recovered from knotting you the umpteeth time.

“Huh?” He grunted before realizing what you meant. Dean shifted lower on the pillows and tucked you closer into his left side. He was enjoying these moments too much, and held you tighter for fear you could disappear at any moment. “Oh, that connects us? I dunno. Hard to tell when you mix magic and science like that.” Your unsure ‘hm’ had him pressing his lips to your forehead. Rationality was starting to creep back in as the adrenaline ramped down, leaving your bodies all but useless for the time being. “I’m sorry I did this to you.”

The apology was unexpected and you pulled away, propping your head on his bicep to look him in the eyes. “What do you mean?” The greens seemed alive as he stared at you with new intensity, guilt hiding transparently behind the vibrant colors. You couldn't recall anywhere in the story where he'd personally inflicted you with the Mark, and your confusion was obvious.

“If it wasn’t for me you wouldn’t be in this mess. You wouldn’t have--”

“Don’t say it,” you snapped, body stiffening against his. You held your Alpha’s gaze for a moment before burying yourself back to his chest.

“Omega,” Dean warned, but you sat up in a huff to glare at the wall, unable to meet his gaze if he was going to force the conversation.  

“I know what i did, but I don’t wanna talk about it, okay?” When you turned to look at him, for the first time you didn’t see lust...not in the way he was looking at you, nor in the way you were seeing him.

For the first time you were reminded that you were strangers. Connected in two very important, disturbingly strong, ways, yes, but still completely alienated from one another. He’d been inside your mind and your body, but the lives you’d lived were lightyears apart. Tears pricked at your eyes as you forced yourself to look back at the ugly wallpaper across the room.

Would it be possible to ever close that distance? You didn’t even know yourself any longer, how could he?

The venomous thoughts whirled in your gaze, and Dean saw them clearly because he’d seen that look in the mirror a thousand times.

“Hey,” his voice was quiet but firm as he sat up beside you, his giant shoulder bumping against yours playfully. “I’m gonna sort it out. All of it. The Mark, your...case. You’re not gettin’ in any trouble for this, sweetheart, I swear it” Your own guilt slammed into you as he wrongly assumed what you’d been thinking; the lives you'd taken, the things you'd said...you knew those weren’t your fault, but under the confusion it was still a heavy weight. 

When you looked up into his earnest gaze however, you were lost again, the chill of moments before being replaced by the familiar warmth emanating from your arm.

He hissed when you did as the warmth increased to painful levels, and a moan escaped your chest when you were forced to shake off the quick flashes of blood and eyelids. 

“Fuck,” you whispered, pulling your arm close to inspect the vague rash. When the angel had healed you it had gone away. Disappointedly, you realized you should have known it was too good to be true. Everything was going to crash down around you soon, you could feel it as well as you could smell the coming rain. “I guess even Angels can’t fix us.”

__~*~__

“Something highly unnatural is going on with Y/N,” Doctor Cameron said around a mouth full of croissant. After verifying he wasn’t full of shit, Sam had brought him to a diner for breakfast before heading to the motel to see Dean and his Omega. They needed to arrive with arms full of refreshments for the newly mated couple or risk being torn apart by Dean for even knocking on the door.

“You think?” Sam scoffed, but kept his voice low as he continued. “You let a demon fuck with a psychiatric patient. What did you think was gonna happen?”

“I didn’t know what she was!” Cameron defended. “I thought we were conducting--”

“--Highly unethical, unauthorized, treatments on mentally ill patients? Yeah, much better.” The Doctor balked at Sam’s interruption, but Sam ignored it. “In another life, I would have been the one making sure you ended up behind bars for pulling something like this, but I’ll just have to settle for fixing your mistakes instead.” Sam beckoned with two fingers toward the spiral notebook Cameron had kept on his side of the table. With a glare he slid “Doctor Mara’’s notebook across to Sam.

“We were conducting unprecedented research in the field of Omega Psychiatric Studies, I don’t deserve jail time, Mr Winchester, I deserve a Nobel!” Cameron snapped indignantly. “Doctor Mara didn’t tell me what she had going on, but it’s all in here. Very disturbing. Explains why she never let anyone look at her notes, not even Doctor Adams.” Cameron grudgingly dug back into his food as Sam flipped through the pages of a demon’s journal. He knew Cameron wasn’t lying, but he was disquieted with how easily the hypnotist had accepted this new knowledge of the supernatural, like demons were no big thing compared to the fact that his research had been compromised. It was disgusting.  

“Who’s Doctor Adams?” Sam frowned at the name, thinking it sounded familiar.

“Oh, he was Y/N’s psychotherapist. In charge of her meds and all her therapies, but Mara was always sticking her nose in since she was the lead on the case. Shame, really. Seems like he’s one of the few that actually cares about their patients in that place.” That’s where Sam knew the name from, Y/N’s file.

“Why didn’t he come when Y/N disappeared, if he cared so much?” The poor excuse for an Alpha just shrugged and Sam rolled his eyes.

“Had a full case-load when we got the news I guess. I didn’t ask because he’s a nosey asshole.” Cameron cleared his throat as he finished his food and spoke up again. “If you’re thinking about calling him, he can’t help. Only I can. You see, Y/N is still technically hypnotized.”

Sam’s head snapped up from where he’d gone back to looking through the notes in his hand, long hair whipping him in the face. “Come again?”

“Yes. When she attacked me I tried to release her from the session, but whatever dream she was in had her locked inside. Something about a man named Lester,” Sam blanched, but Cameron didn’t notice. “Then Mara pumped her full of drugs, which probably made everything worse despite all appearances. You’ll have to look in there--” he motioned to the cursed notebook that contained nothing good, “--to find out which ones, but, technically speaking, Y/N could still be locked inside a dream. I need to see my patient, Mr. Winchester.”

Sam growled, his unexpectedly protective hackles rising. It suddenly dawned on him that if Dean had marked Y/N, she was family now, and after what he’d done, Cameron would never touch Dean’s Omega again. Especially now that they had another option. “I don’t think so. We’re done here. Breakfast on me.” Sam dropped a $50 bill on the table. “Thanks for this,” he said dismissively, tilting the notebook toward Cameron before standing to his full height. Sam used all 6’4” at his disposal as he loomed over the doctor who’d assisted in the mess they were in. The atmosphere in the restaurant shifted as he did, the challenge made clear for anyone to see, or smell. “You need to go back to wherever you’re from. Today. Now. And if I ever see you again, especially near Y/N, I’ll shoot you.” Without a backward glance Sam left the smaller Alpha glaring at his back and coming to the realization that everything he’d worked for was effectively leaving with the hunter.

__~*~__

Cold showers were a staple of Omega life, but having an Alpha in there with you brought the experience to a whole new level. Dean’s fiery hands contrasted perfectly with the freezing water, soothing and exciting you simultaneously. Your nipples were sore from the constant attention, but thankfully your Alpha had realized this and softened his touches to a light caress.

The bruises littering your skin made you smile as you examined them in the dim lighting, physical evidence that you finally had the Alpha you’d always pretended not to dream of. Part of you thought maybe you’d set feminism or the Omega rights movements back a few years, but couldn’t find it in you to care as you turned in his arms under the spray. It had come with a hefty price, but when Dean’s body slotted so perfectly against yours better than anything you could have ever imagined, you knew it was worth it. He was worth it.

The dead eyes of your combined victims dancing in your nightmares begged to differ, but that could wait until reality set in.

__

A knock on the door pulled Dean from the nap you’d both succumbed to late in the morning, and he groaned as his shoulder protested the awkward position your upper body was pinning his arm into when he tried to sit up.

“Go away,” Dean grunted, already knowing the scent of his brother before he’d fully woken up. Sating his rut had helped the immediate rage he held for his younger sibling and his angelic friend, but all wasn’t completely forgiven.

“I have bacon,” came the muffled response, and a quick sniff confirmed Sam was telling the truth. He’d brought greasy diner food, which went a long way with Dean in the moment considering neither of you had eaten in almost twenty-four hours.

“Alright, hold on.” The conversation had already woken you partially, and Dean finished the job by rolling into you and snuggling his nose close to your ear. “‘Mega,” he whispered, “we’ve got company...and the company has bacon. You might wanna put some clothes on before I let him in.” He smiled when you cracked one eye open.

“Bacon?”

__~*~__

Questions? Comments? Incoherent screaming?

Bring it on!

🖤

__~*~__

Black Eyes & Bloodlust Tags: 

@allaboutbailey @alligator210 @alyssa6marie @amarokofficial @anjiep24 @antiscocialfanwarrior​ @bodhi-black @deanna-s-winchester @deliciouslydisturbed365 @edensparks​ @erinmcd1234 :(  @faith901t-blog :( @fangirl-and-medstudent-help​ @fangirlanotherjust​ @flamencodiva @gabegirrl86 @getnaildbyme @hennessy0274-blog @hotterthanfire-colderthanice @jodibullock1 @karouwinchester​ @katkit73 @kbl1313​ @kittenofdoomage​ @lostdarksoul6 @mannls​ @mbbevans @mistress-sassafras @ne-gans @pickleporkupine @rainbowkisses31 @secretlysage​ @shatteredabby @spnskinnyballs​ @starfirerules​ @tamtamlov @tgwge @thatrandomredheadchick @thefaithfulwriter @tumbler-tidbits @ultrahviolent @violentmommabear42 @weepingwillowphoenix @whisperingwillows @wildsageleon @winchesterprincessbride @witchyhoeski​

4ever&ever Tags:

@ain-t-bovvered @bamby0304 @dean-winchesters-bacon @justcallmeasmodeus @ldyhawkeye @maddiepants @mariekoukie6661 @mogaruke @mrs-meghan-winchester @stormy-skies-1997 @supernatural-teamfreewillpage-d @waywardbaby

Dean Tags:

@adoptdontshoppets @akshi8278 @bobasheebaby @paranoiadestroyah