#anyway I walk around a while to find the right angle

[pimsri]

I finally made it here ❤️

[remlionheart]

NSFW Alphabet: Osamu Dazai Edition ♡

♡༊·˚ mdni. ((dedicating this to my pretty gf @bratbby333 since she's the dazai to my chuuya and some of these situations were in inspired by our unhinged 5 hour long facetimes calls, *cough cough* "blood-chilling" *cough cough* ♡)) this was honestly so much fun to write. dazai would be SUCH a diva in a relationship but he would also be so loving and protective ugh. lemme know whatcha think, luv u ♡༊·˚

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

Dazai's almost always the first one out of bed after the fact. He already has a shower running for when he comes back into the room to hand you a towel and a glass of water. You tell him that your legs are too tired to walk all the way to the bathroom so he scoops you up into his arms. The two of you laugh as he carries you into the steam-filled room. He lets you get under the water first, squirting a generous amount of shampoo into his palm as he instructs you to turn around. "Suppose your hands are too tired to wash your hair, hm?" You bite back a smile, giving him a pitiful nod in response. "My poor girl." He hums. His long fingers massaging into your scalp feel like heaven. He leaves light kisses along your shoulder, running a washcloth over your body while whispering sweet little nothings like "How'd I get so lucky?" into your skin as he cleans you off. It's hard to believe this was the same man who was making you beg on your knees for him just twenty minutes ago.

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

Aside from his body's infuriating aversion to death, there aren't a whole lot of things that Dazai doesn't like about his appearance. Aesthetically speaking, he finds himself fairly attractive so it's hard to narrow down one thing he likes best. If he had to though, he'd probably go with his hands. He's always gotten compliments on them, but after seeing what strong reactions they're able to coax out of you so easily, he's realized they're one of his most valuable assets. As cliche as it may be, your eyes are his favorite feature. He finds it adorable how they always tell him what he needs to know without you ever having to say a word. They tell him when you want more, when you want less, when you're about to hit your breaking point. They guide him in the right direction every single time. Plus, they're just so fucking pretty to look at.

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

The only thing more blissful to Dazai than hearing or seeing your orgasm is tasting it. His head is buried between your legs, his fingers pumping in and out of you deliriously as your thighs start to lock around him. You're spasming for him again, your voice breaking as you call out his name and your hips buck up towards him. "Dazai, I can't -" You whine. "'m so... sensitive -" "C'mon baby, please." he groans, "Just one more f’me." his tongue swirls against you with fervor, his digits still greedily plummeting into you. "Lemme taste it, lemme feel it. You’re sooo close." His fingers curl at just the right angle, his tongue faithfully lapping against you as you finally fall apart for him. He moans at the sweetness that spills down his chin. "You taste like fucking ecstasy, you know that?"

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

It's not necessarily a secret because in his defense, if you were to bring it up or ask him about it, he'd tell you the truth. But Dazai can't help it that you've never inquired about his exes and he's certainly not going to offer up the fact that he knows every single person you've ever been with going all the way back to the boy you kissed on the playground when you were 4 years old. Or that he just so happens to know all of their current addresses and their moms’ maiden names and where they work and their social security numbers. I mean, does it even really matter anyway?? He just got a little curious, that’s all!!

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

Dazai had been with his fair share of partners before meeting you. Sex wasn't something he was ever shy about. He did a lot of experimenting, especially when he was spending the majority of his time drinking. He's always felt comfortable in his body and never saw the big deal about sharing it with someone. It wasn't until the two of you started dating that he realized just how binding sex could be. That it could transcend well beyond the simplicity of skin against skin contact. Being inside of you was the closest thing he'd ever felt to a religious experience. It felt like coming home after a long day. No matter how many hookups he'd had in the past, there was nothing that could've prepared him for how good you'd feel.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He likes any position that allows him to see your face. His favorite is probably fucking you from the side though, both of you facing each other with his arm hooked under your thigh, letting him go as deep as he pleases. He gets lost in the way your pupils dilate when he plunges into you. The security of your arms wrapped around his neck as you whimper and wriggle against him. There's something so intimate about watching you come undone from this view. Feeling you drench him while he kisses you over and over. "Let it out, baby. I've got you. Doin' so good - fuck, baby you're doin' so good f'me."

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

As passionate as Dazai is when it comes to being inside of you, he's still able to find a level of a humor in just about anything. He's a Gemini, after all. If he's too serious for too long, he'll simply die. You're on top of him with your hands tangled into his for balance as you grind against him. Your hips are rocking back and forth at a pace that's making his breathing uneven. You feel proud, thinking his reaction is a sign of you doing a good job until you watch his head roll to the side, a stupid smile suddenly visible as he tries to bury his face into the pillow. You quickly realize it's not a moan that he's holding back, but a laugh. Your movements come to an abrupt pause. "Dazai." He tries his best to keep it together, but the scolding tone in your voice coupled with the stern look you're shooting him is only making it worse. “Wait, listen -" he tries to explain himself, but he's powerless to his own thoughts. A burst of suppressed laughter fills the room as he covers his face with his hands, still feeling the weight of your glare on him. "R - remember -" he struggles “Last week? When you were telling me about that book you were reading and...." he nearly snorts. "And you described it as -" Your lips press into a flat line, your eyes glazing over as you realize what he’s getting at. You knew the second you messed up that phrase, you'd never hear the end of it. "Are you seriously still laughing about the fact that I said 'blood-chilling' instead of 'bone-chilling?'" "BLOOD-CHILLING!" He repeats with the most obnoxious cackle, narrowly dodging the pillow you throw at him.

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

Dazai spends more time grooming himself than you do. Hours in front of the mirror looking at himself from every angle to make sure what he's done is up to his standards. He's subscribed to one of those manscaping services where they mail him out a surprise bundle each month of new products to try. When you go down on him one night, he asks "...Does it smell like teakwood?" Your head pops up immediately, unsure if you even want to know what he's hinting at. "What?" "Nothing... it's nothing."

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

In love, Dazai worships you. He has every inch of your frame memorized and knows exactly what each tiny movement and whimper mean. He's studied your body like it's his lifelong passion and he's learned how to make it respond so well for him. Your hips just barely buck up while he's on top of you and he smirks, his hair lightly brushing against your forehead. "You sure can handle the whole thing? Figured you'd still be sore after last night." You shake your head back at him with the poutiest expression, your core aching for more. "I can take it." you insist, "I can -" He challenges your sureness, giving you another inch only to see your eyes roll into the back of your head. Your hand gripping onto the sheet above you. He'd never deny you of anything you wanted, but especially not when you looked this gorgeous. He grabs your hand, tangling his fingers into yours before drawing back and burying himself into you. "That's my girl." he groans, reeling in the way your walls so eagerly swallow him. Your breathing is erratic, your composure completely gone as you writhe and clench around him. He knows you're right there. You start to close your eyes, but he stops you, bringing his free hand under your chin to redirect your attention back to him. "Let me see it, angel. Show me." He slams into you again, giving you every inch of him this time. "Show much you love this." And you do. You show him three times in 20 minutes how much you love it.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Dazai's the first to admit that he has a high libido and if the mood strikes, he's going to do something about it. He gets bored easily, so he has a variety of different mediums to get the job done - the 'hidden' folder on his phone that's filled with pictures and videos of you, romance mangas, fleshlights, audio porn, hentai. He's not afraid to experiment even when he's alone.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Dazai is a true switch and will really fall into either being dominant or submissive depending on the situation. There are nights he gets off work and starts throwing out demands like, "On the bed. Now. Legs apart f’me." as he strips out of his jacket and pushes you down further onto the mattress. But, the are other times where he's dying not to be in control anymore. Where he's had to make too many decisions and he revels in the way you take the reins. The way you climb on top of him and whisper "good boy" as he grows hard beneath you. The only thing he loves more than making you beg is begging for you.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Dazai has a bit of a thing for voyeurism and recklessness so when Kunikida hires a driver to pick the two of you up to take you to a dinner for the ADA, Dazai has no hesitation on hiking up your dress in the back of the limo. Peeking up every so often to see if the driver has even noticed the way your tits are pressed up against the window for passing cars to see as your vehicle speeds down the highway. You arch your back perfectly for him, giving him full control as he plunges into you. Your walls are so snug and gushy, he knows he won't last long. But you're enjoying this just as much as he is, playing with your clit as he grabs your hair and pulls you up to kiss him. "You like knowing that people can see me fucking you?" he whispers, biting down on your bottom lip. "Your cunt’s drippin’ alllll over me.” "Fuck - yes.” You moan, feeling your legs beginning to shake as you let out a strained. “I’d let you fuck me anywhere.” His smirk deepens, his thrusts becoming more frantic. "Don’t make promises you can’t keep, angel.”

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

Dazai's pretty easy to wind up in general, but he definitely has a thing for asphyxiation. Perhaps it stems from the lingering effects of suicidal ideation, but the feeling of something cutting off his airways makes him feral. When you're on top of him and you reach for his throat, he nearly fucking melts. If he could choose any way to die, he'd request for it to be at the mercy of your loving fingertips digging into the side of his neck.

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

There aren't many things that Dazai wouldn't do. Not just sexually, but in general. His curiosity almost always gets the better of him no matter the situation. The only time he's ever told you no was when you were being too hard on yourself. He walked in on you picking at your body in the mirror. Pulling your skin in different directions to see what you'd look like if your arms were thinner or what you'd look like if your nose leaned more to this way instead of that way. His heart sank. All of the post-work fantasies he had built up over the day disappeared the minute he saw how frustrated you were. "Hey," he whispered, coming up behind you and gently wrapping his arms around your waist as his chin rested on your shoulder. "Please stop being mean to my girlfriend. She doesn't deserve that." You tried to brush it off as a joke, leaning up to kiss him while he held you, but he pulled back. "I'm serious." he ran light fingers over your stomach, his eyes locked with yours in the reflection of the mirror. "We're not doing anything until I hear you say at least five things you like about yourself." He could see past almost any crime or murder, but he drew the line at you degrading yourself.

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

Dazai's all about both, but if he's being completely honest with himself, he loves the feeling of your mouth around his cock. How cute you look when you struggle to take the whole thing. The way your eyes widen when he thrusts into your throat. How thorough you are, turning the act of going down on him into a work of fucking art. Even though you’re the one submitting to him when you get on your knees, he still feels like he's at your grace. You feel so good, he'd do anything to keep your lips wrapped around him.

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

Just like anything else, pacing could go one way or the other. The thing about Dazai, is he wants to do whatever you want to do. Even when he's in more of a dom role, your pleasure is still his main focus. There's no such thing as wrong time or wrong place as far as he’s concerned. If you wanted him to fuck you slow and sensually in the club bathroom, he would. He'd dim the lights, lock the door, lay his jacket down for you to sit on as he propped you up onto the sink and kissed you passionately. If you wanted fast, rough, filthy sex by candlelight on a bed of roses, he would. He'd wrap his hand around your pretty little throat, mocking the way you're struggling to breathe as he bullied himself into you while you’re surrounded by romantic ambiance. Whatever you want, he does too.

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

If there was a tornado approaching your house at a reasonable speed, Dazai would still find time to have a quickie with you. Especially if he thought it was the last thing he might ever do. He wants to feel you as much as he possibly can. The construct of time really means nothing to him. You have to log onto a work meeting in five minutes? "I can fit under the desk, baby :((( they won't even see me. Just spread your legs and keep a straight face, okay?" Your parents are on their way over? "They drive so slow anyway, angel and the door's locked. Promise we won't get caught." You're waiting for food to be delivered? "Bet I could make you cum twice before the doorbell even rings." Getting to spend five minutes in you is always better than spending five minutes out of you.

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

Dazai isn't just willing to take a risk, he's usually the one pushing for it. Any time your phone rings, his hands are suddenly roaming along your body, his fingers dipping into the softness of your underwear as he starts to kiss your neck. He knows you're on the phone with your boss, that makes it even better. He wants to see how long you can keep your composure while he torments you. Your eyes are like daggers when you look back at him, but your cunt betrays you entirely, grinding against him needily while he smirks. He picks up the pace, reeling in the subtle way your thighs shake. You're trying so hard to sound so professional and coherent, but your thoughts are everywhere. You're having to hit the 'mute' button every few seconds just to let out a whimper. Dazai nips at the nape of your neck, slamming into you with an extra finger this time causing you to nearly drop your phone. "Ahh ~!" But there's no time to hit mute with how he's suddenly plunging into you. Your boss asks if you're okay and you have no choice but to hang up. "Dazai -" you try to keep your voice firm, but you can barely see straight the deeper he sinks into you. "What - the... fuck -" Each word is a moan, your hand grabbing desperately onto the collar of his shirt. "Dazai," "Somethin' wrong, baby?" "Dazai, you can't -" But he already is. He already is so bad. "Dazai, please." You're not even sure what you're pleading for anymore - if it's for him to stop or continue. Your walls are squeezing him so tight, your heart slamming into your chest as more uncontrollable whines fill the room. "Dazaaiii ~" you whimper again, soaking his hand as his thumb brushes across your clit. "Ohmygod, fuck. You can't keep doing that." "No promises." He smirks, carefully pulling out of you before bringing his fingers to his mouth. "It's not my fault you taste so good."

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

It all depends on the mood, Dazai's pretty versatile. Could he fuck you for hours? Yes. Has he? Many times. It's no secret that he loves watching you struggle to walk the next day after having your legs pinned against his shoulder. But he knows he can't do that every time. He generally tries to follow your lead and give your body what it wants - whether that's 20 minutes of gentle, deep, intimacy or an hour of a mating press followed by overstimulation. As long as you're getting off, so is he.

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

His nightstand is filled with an assortment of silicone stimulants for the two of you. Cockrings and vibrators and bondage kits. Out of all of the subscription services he has, getting a bundle of mystery toys delivered to his house each month is by far his favorite. He always waits 'til you come over to open it. Pouring you both a glass of wine as you divvy them out and argue about decide on who gets to use what on who.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Osamu Dazai lives to tease you. As far as he's concerned, the only reason the sun rises each morning is so that he can find new and exciting ways to make you grovel for him. He'll tie your hands together above your head, slowly unzipping his pants in front of you. Forcing you to watch as he strokes himself above you, groaning out lewd little nothings like, "Oh fuck, 'feels soo good." while he smirks at your pouty little face and the way you begin to squirm underneath him impatiently. “See how hard I am? God, just imagine what it'd feel like inside you." His hand pumping uppp and doownnnn tortuously out of reach. "Tell me baby, would you want me to go hard and fast or reeaall slow and deep?" He fucking moans while you writhe helplessly against the mattress, your neglected cunt throbbing. "Dazai, please." "Poor thing." He mocks, still jerking himself to the sight of you looking up at him with pleading eyes. "You can do better than that though, can’t you angel? C'mon, make me believe you.”

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

There's no denying that Dazai's loud. You make him feel so fucking good and he wants you to know. He'll have a fistful of your hair, groaning out your name while your tongue swirls around his tip. "Fuuuck.” He whimpers. "Oh - my… god." Tiny hearts cloud his vision as he watches your throat fill with his length, the heavenly sounds of you gagging on him echoing across the room. Your eyes gloss over, spit pooling down your chin when you look back up at him, your tongue still pressed firmly against his base. "S'fucking gorgeous when you suck my cock." His praise only make you go faster, drawing out the prettiest whines from him. "Nnngh ~ don't stop, baby.” His grip tightens in your hair. "Don't. Fucking. Stop." His hips buck up with each syllable, his rhythm unrelenting as lecherous tears begin to spill down your cheeks. You keep going though, drowning in the noises he's making for you. "Right there, right there. 'm gonna - oh fuck. 'm -" You feel him twitch inside your mouth before a flood of warmth suddenly coats your throat. "Swallow f'me, angel." his voice is so heady and delirious, it comes out as more of a beg than a command, "Fuck... Yeah. Just like that, mmm, god, just like that." You take it all in, not letting one drop go to waste. "You're sucha good girl, you know that? Sucha good fucking girl."

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

Dazai gives the illusion that he's not jealous. That it doesn't bother him in the slightest when you go out with your friends or when you stay at the gym longer than you said you would. He does trust you - completely, actually. He knows you'd never do anything to jeopardize your relationship with him. It’s the outside world he doesn't trust. When you're driving home from work, he's watching you through the location sharing on your phone. He stares at the screen intently until he hears you pull into the driveway. When you’re at the bar, he knows the importance of girls’ time and he’d never spoil that. He simply wants to make sure no one is bothering you. He shows up, stealthily lingering in the background, watching his pretty girl laugh with her friends and dance with a drink in her hand the way she should. He loves seeing you have fun, he doesn’t want to take that away from you. He just follows behind your Uber to make sure the driver gets you to where you're going safely. He's seen too many tragedies between working for the PM and ADA, he can't take the risk of letting anything happen to you. So, he doesn't. There's absolutely nothing off limits to you. The entire world is yours. You just... might see a man in a suspicious looking jacket that bears an eerie resemblance to your boyfriend trailing behind you from time to time while you're out. It's only because he loves you.

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

Standing at a solid 5'11, Dazai's decently tall and slender - surprisingly muscular underneath all of those bandages. His waistline is so pretty and his hands? God, those long beautiful digits have brought you to your breaking point more than a few times. Besides excelling in dexterity, he's also packing. A perfect blend of length and girth that curves ever-so-slightly as if it was made for the sole purpose of hitting your g-spot.

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

Dazai would bend you over in in front of the Pope if you'd let him. He's unapologetically ready to go at any time. He can't help that you're just so gorgeous and that his eyes are always glued to the way your hips sway when you walk in front of him. He yearns for you constantly, even when you're not around. If he could have a 10-hour loop of you moaning his name that's what he'd use as white noise to fall asleep to each night. He can't help that his dick twitches at the thought of you. It's not his fault you're so pretty :((((

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Rest has never come easy for Dazai. He's tried every natural (and narcotic) sleep aide he could get his hands on. Put down multiple bottles of Pinot Grigio and still found himself up for days on end. Up until he met you, he didn't think it was possible for him to sleep for more than two hours at a time, but the first time you invited him over to your apartment changed everything. The two of you had been talking for hours - laughing and debating and sharing secrets over a bottle of cherry whiskey. He could've stayed up long past sunrise with you but when he noticed how tired your eyes were getting, he offered to take you to bed instead. Both of you stripped down into lazy pajamas. You, in an oversized t-shirt with nothing underneath. Dazai, in his boxers. You looked so peaceful when your head hit the pillow, he was sure that you'd be out soon, but to his surprise, your body had other plans. Your lips were soft against his, your hands gently roamed along his body as you pulled him on top of you. You smiled at the way his hair tickled your forehead. The sun was just barely creeping through your curtains, grazing your face as he slid into you, highlighting the pleasure that had taken over your features. It was all so hazy and comfortable. Your room filled with heady mid-morning noises while his body thrusted generously into yours. There was something so intimate about it that it nearly brought you to tears. You felt full in every sense of the word. When you were both good and spent, the two of you laid in the middle of your bed with your head nestled into his chest. He played with your hair, watching you fall asleep in his arms. He'd never felt more human than he did in that moment. His eyes closed, his mind turning off for what felt like the first time in years as he drifted off with you.

ㅤ ೀ ㅤ۫ ㅤ۪ㅤ۫ ㅤ ♡ ㅤ

‎♡‧₊˚ here's chuuya's version if you're new here ‎♡‧₊˚

[explorevenus]

dirty laundry ♡ re6!leon kennedy x puppy hybrid!reader

nsfw (18+) - minors dni or i will call ur mom. and also the cops

word count: 5.1k

tags/warnings: re6!leon, stubborn/reluctant puppy reader who pretends she hates him, brief chris redfield appearance, forced proximity (kinda), leon pining for u (he wants u to call him daddy btw), hybrid heat cycle shenanigans, thigh riding, dry humping, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), no use of y/n

description: leon's had a tough time figuring out his new puppy hybrid roommate... outside of the fact that she's sweet on him, and just won't admit it. lucky for leon, he comes home from a mission to find her airing her dirty laundry.

a/n: this piece was commissioned by my beloved and adored @pupthepokemonenthusiast who is one of MY FAVORITE PEOPLE ON EARTH EVER ?!!!! and i luv yapping w them and that makes collaborating w them such a dream every time....

divider by @cafekitsune !!

my masterlist ♡

my ao3 ♡

fic under the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ;w;

-venus ♡

Loose gravel crunched beneath Leon's boots, uneven pavement glittering with moisture in the streetlights. It was somewhere between raining and snowing, the wind splattering his rosy cheeks with little drops of condensation, every breath puffing out in a visible cloud, head tilted down at just the right angle to protect the lower half of his bruised face from the cold while still being able to see where he was going.

He didn't have a specific destination in mind, and truth be told, he couldn't really read most of the signage around here anyway-- it was all in Mandarin, and his Mandarin was even less reliable than his Spanish, to put it gently. But he could read what he needed to, at least, enough to find the basics like food, bathrooms, lodging, or hospitals, and more importantly, he could discern the backlit lettering above the shop two doors down; antiques and collectibles. 

That was a phrase he'd familiarized himself with in damn near every language under the sun by now. 

A bell dinged quietly overhead as he stepped into the storefront, grateful that it was even open past 9 o'clock at night. It was only one room and didn't have much space to walk around, but every available surface was stacked to the brim with knick-knacks of all shapes, colors, sizes, and price points under no apparent system of organization. Where some might be overwhelmed or put off by the volume of things to look at, Leon felt his heart skip a beat with excitement. He still had some time to kill before his transport back to the States was due to arrive, and not a single minute of it would be wasted overlooking any potential gems. 

Judging by the horrified stares he was attracting, Leon could imagine he looked fucking insane right now, clothes still splattered with wet, rotting blood and the barrel of his gun practically still smoking in his holster as he towered over a shelf in the back corner, scrutinizing a darling little plush bear in one hand and a set of hand-painted matryoshka dolls in the other like it was the hardest decision he would ever have to make. 

Ultimately, he chose not to decide at all-- money wasn't a factor, so why not buy both? If it weren't for the issue of luggage, he'd just say 'fuck it' and buy out the whole damn store. Unfortunately, helicopters tended to be quite limited in space. 

Self control was a skill Leon used to have mastered, perhaps even too well-- for a long time, every uncomfortable, unsightly, pesky little emotion was pressed down into a condensed cube to be neatly packed away in the very back corners of his brain, boxes upon boxes of dense feelings continuing to pile up and take over more and more space up there until the pressure became too much, the lid blew, and he went off the fucking handle. It wasn't something he was proud of by any means, all those long months blurred into mush through a lens of alcoholism and other reckless behaviors, but what he did try to let himself be proud of was his relative success in making it to the other side. 

That, of course, was a feat he did not accomplish without help, nor would he ever claim to. Chris Redfield was instrumental in his recovery in more ways than one, and at times, without even realizing it. He was a listening ear, a dealer of tough love, a trusted confidant...

...and the reason he had you. 

For obvious reasons, Leon had never gone out of his way to get a pet in his adult life. It just felt irresponsible with the inconsistency and uncertainty of his work situation, even with all the money in the world to spend on trainers and walkers and boarding and... whatever else, but at that point, it would feel less like a pet than an accessory, and Leon didn't have much interest in material. Never saw the need for it. Then one day Chris woke him up in the middle of the night banging on the door to his apartment with a gift he never expected.

"She's a... what?"

"A hybrid. She's a human-canine hybrid, Leon." 

Leon glanced between you and Chris with skepticism in his eyes, only to find the same look peering back at him in you. It was almost kind of funny that he'd have a hard time believing there could be such a thing as a human-canine hybrid, considering all he'd seen in his line of work, a thought that made his shoulders and his expression relax almost instantly. 

You were a real cutie, that was for sure, tucked behind Chris and staring up at Leon through your eyelashes with this grumpy little look on your face, a plush, patchwork bear clutched to your chest. The toy was equally as vibrant and colorful as your clothing, if not a bit worn with time. Your ears were long and droopy, your tail hanging low but swishing side-to-side with cautious interest, and the longer he studied you, the more he became endeared by you. 

"The B.S.A.A. rescued a group of hybrids from an illegal facility a few weeks ago, but finding accommodations for them isn't as simple as it sounds," Chris continued, resting a hand on your shoulder in an apparent move to reassure you. "Long story short, the people who were in charge of that facility aren't too happy about the acquisition, and the hybrids aren't safe at the B.S.A.A. anymore. Would you be willing to shelter her for a while?" 

The firm look in Chris' eyes-- and the fact that he just had to bring this up with you right in front of him-- made it clear he wasn't really asking. No mind, Leon would have done it anyway. It just would have been nice to have had a heads up to rectify the state of the apartment. 

"Yeah, of course," Leon nodded gently, stepping aside to allow you and Chris further into the apartment. "Make yourself at home." He caught the way your head tilted up a bit, as if you were studying the scent in the air, and he supposed it made sense that you likely were.

That was four months ago. And for the past four months, Leon quite enjoyed having you around. You were silly and playful, always bounding around the apartment with a toy clenched between your teeth or lounging in the sunny spots in front of the windows, pawing at him for belly rubs and treats and infinite tug-o-war matches. All that being said, you were equally stubborn, resisting him at every turn like magnetic repulsion, always kicking up a fuss seemingly just for the sake of it.

He wasn't sure. You were tough to read. Not only did some of your canine personality traits make you a bit forgetful and distractible at times, but you were also just terribly inconsistent with your affections, and he wasn't always sure what to make of it. All he knew was that he was determined to win you over in one way or another, and if he was going to do that, he'd have to figure you out first, and so far that was shaping up to be quite the herculean task. At least it seemed you would be here for a while. 

With the way he guarded your little treasures during the flight home, one might assume he was smuggling something, but he just couldn't stomach the thought of coming home without something to present to you. The hardened federal agent was determined to crack a smile out of you on his terms, to get you to admit what you both knew to be true. 

You had a crush on him. A big, fat, embarrassingly all-encompassing crush on him, and you rejected the idea of owning up to it so staunchly that it was turning you into a bit of a brat. That was the one thing he could read about you, and it drove you up the wall. 

He certainly wasn't judging you. It would be an absurd lie to say he didn't have a big, fat, embarrassingly all-encompassing crush on you too-- he'd be insane if he didn't. But the back and forth was far too enjoyable, and Leon was always up for a good natured challenge. 

See, self control was something Leon had worked really, really hard to regain a handle on, and when it came to his drinking and brooding, he certainly had... but when it came to you? Not by a longshot. That being said, he would rather be pouring himself into courting you than pouring himself another bourbon. That's what he used to shut up that little voice in the back of his head that questioned whether or not he was putting too much energy into this, banking too much on it. 

It was innocent, right? It's not like you were a bad influence or whatever. If anything, a lot of nights that he would have spent at the bar were instead being spent at home playing with you. Surely that had to be a net positive, especially considering you would have otherwise been getting poked and prodded at in a lab. 

Stepping back into the apartment for the first time in weeks, Leon hadn't even bothered bringing his duffel bag in with him from the car, the only thing in his arms being the wrinkled paper bag from that antique shop. His own belongings could wait. As soon as he shut and locked the door behind him, stepping out of his shoes, the first thing he noticed was how quiet it was. 

No lively music from the shows you liked to watch, no little bumps or growls from you playing toys, no quiet padding of your feet across the hardwood from you coming to see who was at the door. He glanced at his watch, finding it was only half past nine in the evening, and while you often proclaimed to abide by a healthy bedtime for yourself, you had a habit of napping all day and bouncing off the walls all night. Something was amiss.

Stepping further into the apartment to investigate the scene, Leon peered into the living room. The lights were on, the TV was off, there were a few toys strewn about the couch and the floor, but not a glimpse of the sweet puppy who left them there. Odd. Suspicious. Maybe even staged. 

His lips came together in a whistle meant to grab your attention, knowing your sharp ears would hear it from anywhere in the apartment, even if you were sleeping. When that call garnered no response, he began to wonder if you were mad at him. After all, he was supposed to return almost three days ago, and while Chris had been able to stop by and check on you when he had the time, it just wasn't the same, and you didn't do well with loneliness, and Leon knew that. 

Turning on his heel to head deeper into the apartment, he continued to find you nowhere. Not climbing the countertops in the kitchen, or playing under the dining table, or even reluctantly having a bath. As he reached the end of the short hallway, there were only two doors left to open. 

Leon tried another whistle and called out, "Hey, pup? I'm home!" 

He waited, and listened... and heard nothing. Your bedroom door was closed, and it looked like the light was on in there, judging by the subtle glow spilling out beneath it, but still, no response. 

His bedroom door, however, was cracked open. The overhead light was off but the bedside lamp was on, and his dirty laundry basket was tipped over on the floor. When he stepped forward to turn it upright again, he thought he saw the bedding shuffle out of the corner of his eye. Closer inspection of the bed brought the case of his missing puppy girl drew to a close. Your soft tail was peeking out beneath the edge of the covers, the markings and patterns in your fur being undeniably familiar to him now. 

It was perfect timing, really-- he was just about to tip over into the realm of worrying about your safety, but now he was back to just worrying you were mad at him... and he couldn't help the amused grin that tugged at his expression. 

"Is that a little puppy in daddy's bed?" He asked aloud, his tone taking on a smitten and adoring lilt. Once again, he received no response... at least not verbally. Quietly setting down that paper bag, he stood there and watched with his arms crossed as your tail fluttered to life in response to his tone, the tip silently patting the sheets in a lazy and reluctant little wag that you might have actually gotten away with, if it weren't for the fact that your tail was in plain view. 

He was initially going to try a few more times to get a response out of you, hoping to make sure you were okay and to see if you wanted to talk, but he quickly realized that wasn't going to work with you. You weren't all doom and gloom like he tended to be, you were silly, you were playful, you were fundamentally kind. A lighthearted approach wouldn't work with him, or with most of the people he dealt with on a day-to-day basis, but it would almost certainly work with you. 

"Well," Leon stretched his arms up with a dramatic groan, "Since there's no puppies in the bed..."

And then he playfully toppled over the lump in the bedding, bracing himself on his elbows so as not to actually crush you, of course, music to his ears being the muffled squeal of stubborn discontent that sounded out from beneath the covers.

"Leon!" You whined, arms squirming around beneath him in a desperate flurry of moves to find the edge of the blanket, tugging it down to free your face for some air. Soon enough your head poked out from beneath the covers and your eyes were already narrowed into unamused slits at him. 

But that wasn't really what caught his attention about the look on your face. You were panting for breath, your ears flopped back lazily and your hair an absolute mess, your skin hot to the touch and clammy with sweat. Now his eyes were narrowed at you in suspicion, because you were certainly frustrated, just... not the kind of frustrated he was anticipating, if his suspicions were found to be correct. 

"You look guilty," He commented, brow raised as he took you by the chin and tilted your head this way and that, as though in observation. "Why do you look guilty, puppy?" 

"I'm not," You were quick to defend yourself-- much too quick, in Leon's opinion-- and you stubbornly recoiled back from his hand, continuing to squirm and resist beneath him. "You're squishing me!" 

You planted the palm of your hand dead in the center of his face in an attempt to push him away, the bedding slipping further down in the process to reveal your flushed collarbones and shoulders, both of which were bare. Were you naked? In his bed? 

He took you by the wrists to pin your hands down with ease, staring down at you in scrutiny. "Don't lie to me, sweetheart," He said, tone firm, but not unkind. "You're red as a tomato." 

With a stubborn whine, your ears flattened back against your messy head in what could only be read as shame, and that certainly wasn't what he was going for at all, even with the compromising position he had you in at the moment. It was just meant to tease you, but you looked mortified, and he could only imagine why that might be. 

"Puppy," He softened, letting go of your wrists, one hand taking you by the cheek to gently caress you. "You know I can't help you if you don't tell me what's going on." 

Your mouth fell open and then snapped shut again a time or two, a clear indication that you were tripping over your words in search of the right ones. Finally, you managed, "It's... I-It's hot." 

"Then why are you all bundled up, huh?"

You didn't even really need to admit it at this point, because it was clear as day what was going on here-- after all, Chris had warned him this might happen, that hybrids could have... intense reproductive cycles-- but he also wasn't going to push it if you just wanted to ride it out on your own. He wasn't an expert on this, he didn't know exactly what you needed, and he didn't want to overstep and freak you out.

That being said, the thought that you'd retreated to his bedroom, desperate to surround yourself with his belongings in his absence just to cope with being in heat, was a remarkably good one.

This time you didn't seem to have a retort, still writhing under him and trying to push him off of you, which wasn't new behavior for you, though this time he did take it upon himself to give you some space instead of continuing to mess with you. 

"Alright, alright, relax, daddy's not making fun of you--" 

"You're not my daddy," You interjected stubbornly, but just like always, the rosy, searing blush on your face betrayed how you really felt about the topic, even as you added, "Stop trying to make me call you that!" 

Leon dearly and sincerely adored you, that much was to be sure, but your hard-headedness could run him ragged sometimes, when you'd dig your heels in so hard about things that seemed so innocuous. Whether or not you should be expected to call him daddy-- which he regularly enjoyed teasing you about but would never legitimately force you to do-- didn't feel like the biggest issue at hand here. Not by a mile. 

How was he supposed to focus on that when you were just... burning up? Panting for breath and shaking and whining? Oh dear God, this wasn't good, and for as much effort as he was putting into focusing on your wellbeing, it was becoming increasingly difficult not to focus on the way his pants were beginning to feel uncomfortably cozy in the front. He brought one hand down between you to adjust himself only to find he'd unintentionally solicited a faint, but distinctly needy moan from you in the process, presumably because you'd touched you somewhere he hadn't necessarily meant to. 

"G-Go away, Leon," You insisted, eyes screwed shut as you turned your head to the side and maintained that stubborn frown he knew so well on you. "Get off of me!" 

But your tail was wagging in an absolute blur, thumping mindlessly against the damp sheets and knocking in between his knees at an intensity that was impossible to miss. Leon's eyes narrowed and he bared his teeth in an intrigued grin before finally sitting back on his haunches, still straddling you, but at least freeing your upper half. 

"Leon, quit--" 

You poor dear, you were so, so close to finishing that sentence, if only it weren't for the way Leon swung one leg between your own, driving his knee right up to the apex until you felt the muted pressure lavish your clit. Whatever you were about to say fizzled out on your tongue and instead popped out in a string of whimpers, your back arching up off the bed. The movement caused the bedding to slip down just a little bit further, confirming his suspicion that you were in fact naked, at least from the waist up.

Taking the soft globe of your breast into the palm of his hand, Leon let his thumb brush over your already pebbled nipple and asked lowly, "Oh, c'mon, pretty puppy... you're totally sure you don't want daddy's help? I think you're just being fussy..."

Your chest rumbled with a little growl, but it was more of a moan than that, and the fiery glare on your face was the perfect image of it. You were pissed, and quite frankly, it was a good look on you. Maybe even one of his favorites. Suddenly you were baring your teeth at him too, just pretending it was in the opposite way. You were such an open book to him. 

"You're being mean," Huffed the stubborn little puppy, but of course, Leon could be meaner. 

So he was. Leon snatched the covers off the bed in one quick swipe, and what was revealed to him beneath had to have been a thousand times better than anything he might have expected. You were naked, yes, but tangled between your legs was a pair of his sweatpants, undoubtedly retrieved from the depths of the overturned laundry basket, the grey cotton soaked through in patches with slick all over the crotch and thighs. 

Fucking Christ, you weren't just getting off to the thought of him, but also the scent of him, the feeling of his clothes on your skin, and presumably, an idea not unlike what he was already teasing you with; letting you rub one out on his thigh. 

Squishing your cheeks in one hand, he said firmly, "Look at me. Do you honestly feel like I'm being mean to you?" 

There was a pause while you stared at each other, your eyes searching his own skeptically. It didn't really seem he was messing with you, no, in fact he appeared like he really wanted to help you. The back and forth was fun and he enjoyed the little game you'd made out of getting to know each other, but when it came to your comfort and wellbeing, he wasn't interested in being forced to solve puzzles. You couldn't really blame him. 

"N-No," You admitted. 

"Exactly, so just... simmer down, will you?" 

This time Leon didn't give you another chance to tell him to fuck off. He scooped you up at the waist and pulled you to your knees, drawing your body close to his until you were straddling his left thigh. Eyes wide, you stared at him stiffly, like you were too afraid to move. Huffing out a breath, he rolled his eyes with a smirk and gripped your hips, tugging you down until you were finally bearing your weight on him. 

For as fast as your pointed teeth sank into your bottom lip to quiet yourself, it didn't even matter. You still let out a pleasured whine, ears flat against your head and your tail hung low, the tip swishing in a reluctant little wag that patted the outside of his knee with every other beat. 

"You're too precious for your own damn good," He grumbled, thumbs brushing soothing circles into your hips. "Y'know that, pup?"

Breaths falling short, it felt like your head was full of warm mud, teetering for balance on your neck as your upper body tipped forward to grasp at his arms. As expected, Leon caught you effortlessly, steadying you by cupping your face in his hands so he could look you right in your braindead little eyes, your noses almost touching as your tongue lolled out in lazy gasps.

It was obvious he wasn't going to get much more out of you in the way of words at this point, so it was a damn good thing you had that pretty tail knocking about. He figured all that wiggling was the closest he'd get to a literal window into your mind. 

"Go on, then," Leon smoothed your hair away from your sticky forehead, still mindful to hold you upright. His tone was low and, as always, far too sweet for you... but it was so nice, it vibrated down to the base of your spine and made you dizzier. You were just about to fulfill what he was encouraging you to do when he added wryly, "You've already made such a mess, don't get shy on me now." 

A quiet whimper stuttered from your dry throat-- you couldn't sit still anymore, he was being evil and he knew it, downright evil... and you typically would have stuck up your nose at him and brooded on it for a while, but you didn't even have the strength of mind for that at the moment. You hardly even realized you were already rocking your hips back and forth against the clothed meat of his thigh, nails threatening to snap under the pressure as they begged to sink past his shirt and into his muscles. 

It was pleasant, sure, but it wasn't nearly enough, especially not after hours and hours and hours of tossing and turning in his bed, rubbing yourself nearly numb with your fingers and your toys and his pillows and his clothes, aching for something tangible and warm to nurse the pain away. You let your forehead rest against his own for a moment to catch your breath, hoping to find the right angle, but you just weren't getting what you needed, and the frustration alone made your glassy eyes sting with the threat of tears. 

That just wouldn't do. 

"Oh, you really made a mess, didn't you, sweet girl?" Leon cooed sympathetically, shushing your delicate cries. Thumbs skimming over your burning cheeks, he asked quietly and carefully, "Why don't you let daddy lick it up, hm?" 

Your expression scrunched up in a weak pout and your empty little head bobbed up and down in an airy nod, and just as soon as you gave him that go-ahead, he was moving to make it so. You were on your back in seconds, Leon's broad hands spreading your plush thighs apart to make space for himself between them, and for as cool and composed as he was trying to appear right now, he couldn't help the low moan that made it past him just at the sight of you. 

Sure, he'd seen more than enough by now to guess that you were wet, but you weren't just wet, you were dripping all over yourself. It was all he could do to collect as much of you on his tongue as possible, groaning at the taste and dragging you closer by your hips until he was as close as he could get, the tip of his nose buried against the curls at the lowest point of your mound as he lapped you up with abandon.

You were writhing and crying, legs kicking out at the stimulation before drawing back up to dig into his shoulders and pull him further into you, into the mess of you. He'd managed to find it somehow, to become that something tangible and warm and redefine it, unraveling you from the root with a sanguine sense of desperation that was tempered by his undying commitment to treating you like you were made of glass. 

Your tail was curling up tight against the base of your spine, your chest was heaving for breath, you couldn't keep your eyes open anymore, and he hardly could either. 

But he also couldn't stand not to. If you had the capacity to pay attention to small details, you might have noticed his eyes were just as bleary and drunk as yours were. Leon recorded your every movement in his mind like scripture from this angle, his own hips rutting down into the bed while yours bucked into his mouth, and it was only when he found the strength to pull away for air that he found a moment to reorient himself in reality. 

His lips were puffy, rosy, and slick with you as he caught his breath, two fingers toying with your puffy, aching clit in the absence of his tongue. It was almost like muscle memory for him to reach up with his free hand and pat your belly, an affectionate hum ringing from him at the near-immediate reaction it got out of you, even in a state like this. You were squirming and arching beneath him as your quivering body fought to determine priority over the attention brought by either hand, a rather endearing dilemma to have found yourself in. 

"Oh, my poor baby," Leon preened, lavishing the inside of your right thigh with kisses. "You're so cute..." 

Unable to help himself from letting you have the best of both forms of pampering, he replaced the tips of his fingers with his tongue yet again, freeing both hands to pet your soft tummy. The movements were lazy, but sure enough, your tail was going off as fast as it could while you laid there shivering and whining and clawing at him, tumbling over the edge into release before you could come up with a way to warn him first. 

As if he would have cared anyway. A warning wouldn't have changed anything. Hell, it might have even spoiled what turned out to be a dizzying moment of unabashed indulgence for him. 

Gentle, adoring hands kneading delicately at all your favorite spots, Leon willfully deprived himself of oxygen in pursuit of every drop of your syrup as it flowed from you, knowing he would come to regret being wasteful later if this should turn out to be a one-time thing. He lost himself to the throes of hedonism for several drawn out moments until he was confident you were licked clean, until he came to again and realized you had gone completely limp in the wake of your expenditure. 

Rolling over onto his back, Leon spread out just as bonelessly across the bed as you did, the both of you a sorry sight of sweat and heat. He spent several minutes trying to find a way to break the silence. With the haze of lust wearing off a bit and clearing up space in his mind for more intelligent processes, Leon was already beginning to dread the inevitable conversation this would warrant between the two of you.

Lucky for him, that was so far outside of the realm of your current train of thought... or lack thereof. You certainly felt better, but that didn't mean your brain wasn't mud anymore. Little else mattered to your muggy, muddled mind but the here and now. 

In an unexpected move, you rolled onto your side to rest your head against his chest. The way you struggled to meet his eyes was enough for him to know you were likely still struggling to talk, or maybe you just didn't really want to, but the olive branch you'd extended demonstrated your agreeable state, which was more than he could've said for you half an hour ago. 

Shit, half an hour ago he was still hoping a couple presents from his trip would win your affections, yet here he was with the taste of you lingering on his lips, your naked body curled up to him for comfort. 

Wrapping his arm tightly around you until you were tucked up comfortably into his side, Leon rested his chin atop your head and mumbled fondly, "What am I gonna do with you, huh? Can't even sleep in my own bed after a long mission 'cause this pretty little puppy made such a big mess... I hope you know how to work the washing machine."

[aashiqeddiediaz]

I just feel like it's nasty for Hen Chim Eddie to be dancing when Buck looks so upset next to them. Yes, Gerrard being gone, but they should be more aware that their team member is actually not happy. They didn't try to stand up for him either, Buck was the only one pushing back.

i've been thinking about how to answer this for a few days now without being outright rude, and who knows if i managed but here it goes:

hen, chim and eddie don't owe anyone a single thing. it is not their job to stand up against everything, and it is not on them to defend buck at every given turn. they aren't in the wrong for wanting to keep their head down in front of their racist, misogynist boss. it is not the responsibility of people of color to keep standing up for themselves and others in face of such racist and backwards behavior. sometimes the safest thing they can do is just keep their head down.

they say it canonically in the show that hen is trying to keep her nose clean for the sake of getting her foster license back. that chim is in the same boat. hen and chim have dealt with gerrard for years before bobby, and theres always been this underlying current that gerrard will find ways to get them fired if they do anything he doesn't like, even more so now. and eddie has been in the army and knows what it's like to keep his head down - also his job is kind of the only thing he has left in his life anyway?? he can't really afford to risk that, or his parents will never let chris come back to him. if they want to celebrate not having to walk around eggshells at their place of work, then they damn well deserve to.

we saw maybe a thirty second clip about this whole thing anyway. we don't know if anyone talked to buck about it off-screen. we don't know if they even had time for the discussion given that los angeles was taken over by bees and there's a plane about to crash to earth with athena in it?? in that split second scene, we do see eddie telling buck that he saved gerrard's life and we see eddie sort of angle himself in front of buck all the while, too. that in itself speaks volumes.

also you mention buck pushing back - tell me right now that if hen, chim and/or eddie pushed back the same way buck did, they'd still get to keep their jobs. gerrard wouldn't waste a single minute writing them up, or putting formal warnings in their files, whereas buck has at least one type of privilege that they don't have, and it's often the one that people can't ignore: he's white. kitchen and bathroom duty is the worst consequence he has - that is not the same for hen and chim, or eddie. their consequences could involve losing their children, so forgive me if im not so eager to jump to buck's defense here.

yes, buck is conflicted, and he's valid for that cause he's never wanted to be the reason someone's hurt. but to expect hen, chim and eddie to coddle him is just not it.

this is such a pattern with racist people and i've seen it all my life, so getting an ask like this was upsetting, but also seeing this rhetoric in fandom was also upsetting? why is the onus on the poc characters to keep the white characters happy??

tl;dr: hen, chim, eddie don't owe anyone a single thing, and buck is a grown ass man who can handle himself and he can communicate like a big boy if he needs more reassurance :) also, they were so true for that dance party.

[i-love-ptv]

Pope and reader taking the boat out and soaking up the sun! Reader is like laying out on the boat while pope steers to find a nice place to anchor! Lots of fluff and love sick individuales maybe some smut thrown in there? Anyways bookie adiós!

All Mine, All Mine ㅤᡣ𐭩

Pairing: Pope Heyward x Fem!Reader

You and Pope on the HMS Pougue! - Fluff, hints at sex at the end ;) (thinking abt making another part for smut??)

Wc: 1,067

An: GUYS. I DID IT. Not the longest, but not the shortest. I hope I did pooks justice 😣😣 Not proofread I fear, I didn’t feel like it..

Feedback always appreciated!! xxx

“Pope, honey, have you seen the bottle opener?”

“Uhh- it’s not in the basket?” Your darling boyfriend asks, briefly glancing back at you while he steers.

You rummage through the basket once more, despite already knowing the answer to Pope’s question.

“It’s not in there, y’know what, it’s fine.” You grab your cold beer bottle and angle the cap into your mouth.

You pop the cap off with your mouth, and Pope looks at you with mock horror.

You meet his eyes and ask, “What?” as you take a swig of the liquid.

“That may just have been one of the craziest things I’ve ever seen you do, babe.” He says as he side-eyes you.

“In a good way or a bad way?” You ask while chuckling, quirking your brow over your sunglasses.

He smiles, showing that boyish charm, “I haven’t really decided yet..” He replies.

“Whatever loser, have we found a spot yet?” You tease, as you look up at the sky.

You glance at Pope, finding that he was already looking at you. It seems that he does that a lot.

“Wellll.. If someone wasn’t always groaning about how the sun is ‘directly’ in her eye, we would’ve already stopped and started eating” Pope sasses, but you know that he didn’t mind. After all, he couldn’t let his woman feel any kind of discomfort, especially when he’s around.

You pout at him, and say, “Well, we only have the Pougie for a ‘lil while, we gotta make this perfect.”

Pope beams at this, “I know baby, I think this spot is good.”

He stops the boat and walks over to you. He lays down next to you, and props his elbow up to lean on it.

You peer up at him, having put your sunglasses on the top of your head

“Grape?” You ask as you grab a few from the container of fruit you brought with you.

Pope inches closer to your fingers until you lightly push the grape into his mouth. He hums in delight.

“I got these ones from a new place this time, they’re good, right?” You exclaim excitedly, referencing the last store you went to to buy grapes, where the grapes were more sour than sweet.

Pope faintly drags out a ‘mhm’ while gazing at you, almost as if he can see through your eyes and into your soul.

“You have the prettiest eyes, y’know that?” Pope says, in almost a daze-like state.

You smirk at his words, “Oh yeah? I don’t think I’ve ever gotten that one before..”

You continue, “But I have heard that I have the perfect smile, a strong mind, and an amazingggg personality.”

“Oh shush, ‘s not my fault you’re perfect.” Pope says through a whisper, as his eyes flicker from yours to your lips.

He starts to lean in, and you meet him halfway, letting your lips connect and dance around with one another.

One kiss leads to multiple pecks, which of course, leads to a passionate makeout, as your bodies explore each other as if they’re foreign.

You’re arm flies out, accidentally knocking over your speaker, which quietly plays ‘Call Me By Your Name’ by Sophie Castillo.

You feel Pope’s warm hand brush down your back, and squeeze your ass firmly.

You softly gasp at this, and your hand reaches up to his head, grabbing his backwards hat and placing it on your own head loosely.

Pope grins through your shared kisses.

Abruptly, you hear a familiar ringtone.

Pope breaks the kiss with the groan, shuffling through his pockets to find his phone ringing, notifying him that none other than JJ Maybank is calling him.

You prop yourself up on your elbows, trying to listen to the faint sounds of JJ speaking on the phone.

Pope looks at you with sincerity. He now regrets keeping his ringer on, despite you telling him to keep it off, like how you did with yours, so the two of you could remain uninterrupted.

But Pope being Pope, he kept it on, thinking that he would only be called for any serious emergencies.

“Yes. Yes. JJ, I hear y-“ You assume Pope is cut off by the blonde, for he stops and releases a deep sigh.

“Okay, yes, we’ll bring the boat back John B, relax.” Pope says, as he hangs up the phone, not wanting to hear JJ or John B continue to speak any longer.

Pope looks at you sadly, wishing that you two could remain at peace by yourselves.

“Well, I suppose we should head back before they have our heads.” You say with a twinge of sadness.

Pope kisses your forehead, and squeezes your hand. He starts to try and pack up the leftover remnants of food that was in the basket, before you stop him.

“Baby, don’t worry about it, I got it. Let’s just start going, okay?” You say as you leave a kiss onto his plump lips.

He sighs, “Alright…” And he walks off to the wheel to start the boat back up.

After you finish cleaning up the boat, and collecting any remaining trash, you go up behind Pope. You mean your head on his shoulder and reach around him to lightly scratch at his chest with your nails, just how he likes it.

Pope gasps, since he hasn’t heard you walk up over the motor of the HMS Pouge.

You begin to leave kisses on his neck and behind his ears.

“Babe…” Pope says softly, trying to turn and look at you.

You turn his head straight as you nibble on his earlobe, “Shhh baby, just keep going, okay? Get us home honey, I have something for you for when we get back.” You whisper out against Pope’s ear, making him shiver from the warmth of the contact; this makes you giggle.

As if he’d been starved of your touch for years, Pope, speeds off, making you laugh loudly, and wrap one arm gently around his neck, while the other holds his hat on top of your head.

Pope looks at the sunset, he thinks about how it reminds him of you. He doesn’t necessarily know exactly how at the moment, but he finds it pretty, just like you.

It makes him think about how you have the most pure, and beautiful soul, as if he could see through your eyes and into your soul.

Tagging ppl who commented on my post abt Pope. (If you want me to remove you, just lmk! <3)

Ps. if you’re name is in yellow, it means i couldn’t tag you :(

@v4mp1rr3 @mirellef2001 @loveharlow @nemesyaaa @cerya @ihe4rttwd @inlovewithpandora @cherriespopsicle

[justaz]

i've had this au idea for a while and have tried writing it but i don't get far into it before abandoning it so ill post it in case someone else wants to write it or take some inspiration from it or what have you. s4ep1/2 au.

merlin uses his magic to just latch arthur's feet to the ground as well as lancelot's when he sees him creeping towards the veil. merlin turns to face them as he walks backwards, revealing his gold eyes and magic to arthur which barely registers in his mind as he understands what merlin's doing and Panics. he's yelling and almost begging and demanding merlin to get back here you idiot. i'm the king you listen to me

and merlin just smiles and is like when have i ever listened to you? and steps into the veil, sacrificing himself and closing it. with his death, his magic releases arthur and lancelot who are just like. what the fuck. and grief-stricken. and angry. anyways they go back to camelot and lancelot stays with gwen and they mourn together. gwaine is. a wreck. the knights are all grieving. arthur is just. gone. like. he closes himself in his chambers for like two weeks. he doesn't sleep, he doesn't eat, he can barely function. anyways merlin watches him from the veil as a spirit, he watches all of them and is a little guilty about causing them so much grief and heart ache but he rather them be sad and alive than dead so he doesn't regret it that much

magic lore i made up - since merlin gave his life in an exchange, he gets to remain conscious and aware within the veil. the other spirits that roam around are focused on whatever's keeping them there (and keeping them from moving on to the afterlife). there's a lot of sorcerers in camelot who are angry and crying because they were executed by uther - their heads cut off, their bodies charred, or their necks bent at odd angles. they wander around calling for justice. anyways ygraine's life was also taken in an exchange so what i'm saying is ygraine and merlin best friends arc.

they both watch over arthur with worry and then one day arthur just storms out of his chambers and down to the library and buries himself in books, searching desperately for a way to bring merlin back. with how little he's eating and sleeping, arthur ends up passing out and has a nightmare. merlin reaches out on instinct wishing to comfort him and ends up getting pulled into his dreams, only with his intention being to comfort, his arrival shifts the dream from a nightmare into something a lot more pleasant - merlin and arthur together and alive and...courting? it looks like? arthur leans in to kiss him but the dream dissipates right before their lips meet.

anyways, that happens a few times with a few different dreams as arthur searches for a way to open the veil again and bring merlin back. i have two different endings for this though. one is, since merlin is emrys and immortal, after some time the cailleach comes back and is like "immortal asshole. i took some of your eternal life force but you're still immortal but the veil is still sealed. i can't keep someone who still has all this life. get out." and just pushes him out of the veil and into his body again. OR arthur finds a way to bargain with the cailleach and sees his mother with merlin and bada bing bada boom (i forgot to add that arthur at some point finds out about his uncles treachery lmao) trades agravaine's life for ygraine's and then his father's (he can't stand to see his father wasting away and sees this peaceful death as mercy) for merlin's. and he gets his mom and bf best friend manservant back.

after everything settles down, arthur finally has time to focus on merlin's magic but with the trauma of almost losing him, he finds he really can't care about it and just repeals the ban to keep from even thinking about executing him so merlin will never be in danger again. ygraine is also happy about this bc i hc she had a little bit of magic. she learned from her gf nimueh. bonus hc bc i feel like it - ygraine and uther were married and loved each other, yes, but ygraine took nimueh as her consort and uther took balinor as his consort.

okay thats all. if anyone actually writes this or anything similar to it, it'd love to read it. pls tag me or dm me <3

[junkissed]

wedding night

member — husband!cheol x wife!f reader genre — smut, fluff, newlyweds au word count — 2.3k synopsis — seungcheol just wants to treat his wife right on their first night together as husband and wife. content warnings — cheol calls reader his wife, reader is described wearing a big poofy wedding dress (also a garter), half of this is filth and the other half is cheesy flowery prose oops smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (reader receiving), praise, fingering, edging, some begging, briefly some spitting & marking, lots and lots of making out, sex while mostly clothed, implied shower sex at the end, cheol has a fat marriage kink and so do i notes — this is inspired by the delusional staff at pledis who decided the concept for fml carat version should be wedding photos! i am crazy. like very much i am so unwell rn. anyway not saying this is for @duhnova but this is definitely for @duhnova

your breath hitches as seungcheol hikes your wedding dress up your leg, layers of soft fabric bunching up between his fingers. his breath is hot on your now-exposed thighs.

flat on your back on the king-size hotel bed, you’re still in the dress you walked down the aisle in. the same one cheol had insisted you wore at the reception; the same one you wore on his private plane on the way to your honeymoon spot where he could barely keep his hands off of you, but resisted because he wanted your first time as husband and wife to be extra special; the same one you had trudged through the hotel lobby in, wrestling the gown into the elevator up to the private suite he had bought.

you grasp the material, struggling a little to hold it all up and out of cheol’s face. “baby, it’ll be easier, i can take this off—”

“no,” he interrupts, tugging on your legs to bring you closer to his mouth, and you yelp, sliding further down the bed. “want you to leave it on. let me fuck my wife in this gorgeous dress i married you in.”

you whine, cunt clenching around nothing at the way he calls you your new title. his wife.

he pushes your skirt up higher, finally revealing what he was searching for: a lacy red and black garter wrapped daintily around one of your thighs. he groans and leans closer to your leg, his teeth grazing over your skin and making you shiver.

he looks up at you, and you can barely see his face through all the layers of silk and tulle, but you can clearly see the familiar lustful look in his eyes. he runs his teeth along the garter, pulling it between his teeth and then letting go to snap it against your thigh.

you hiss at the sting, but the momentary pain quickly fades when your husband grabs your dress from your hands and pulls it over his head, hiding himself between your legs and wrapping his lips around your clit.

you arch your back, hips lifting off the bed when his tongue begins to prod into you, swirling wet circles around your entrance as you writhe in his grip. you can’t see anything that’s going on, except for his legs hanging off the edge of the bed behind you, his top half completely covered.

without the fabric in his way, it’s easy for him to hold your thighs apart beneath the dress, pushing them down hard into the bed so that no matter how hard you try to close your legs around him, it’s impossible to move an inch.

your breath catches in your throat as his tongue moves through your folds, and you can feel his saliva and your wetness dripping down onto the inside of the dress. it’s going to be a pain to wash, but laundry is the last thing on your mind when cheol suddenly pushes his index finger into you, curling up and against your walls at just the right angle that it makes you clench down around him as hard as you can. he curses, the sound muffled underneath the layers of the dress, but continues fucking his finger in and out of you, barely enough room for him to move but somehow he finds a way.

you barely even notice when he slips a second finger inside, followed by a third, your juices pooling in the palm of his hand as he thrusts into you.

as if you weren’t already wet enough, he detaches his lips from you and leans his head back, spitting directly on your pussy.

you cry out his name, lifting your hips to chase his mouth as he uses his tongue to smear the mixture over your folds. he presses his face deeper into your pussy, his nose rubbing directly against your clit, and you feel yourself drawn closer and closer to the edge with each movement, all of it accumulating until you feel like you’re about to snap.

but at that exact moment, cheol’s fingers slide out of you and his mouth leaves you with a pop, and everything you’d been building up to crumbles away in a split second.

“seungcheol, please—”

he pokes his head out from beneath your dress at the mention of his name, bunching the fabric up at your hips. cold air hits your aching cunt, exposed to the temperature of the room now that your lower half is no longer covered, and you whimper at the sudden change.

cheol’s fingers play with the garter’s elastic band, a constant reminder of his presence though you don’t feel any stimulation. “what is it, baby? tell me what you need.”

your cunt throbs, and you whine in frustration, reaching out for him with shaky hands. “need you, cheollie, please. want you so bad. please fuck me.”

he groans and shifts over the bed, leaning over you to capture your lips in his. you taste yourself in his mouth as your lips part, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth.

most of his weight is supported by his arms, holding himself over you but still low enough that you’re pressed chest to chest. his suit jacket was shed long ago, and now you tug at his shirt, silently begging him to take it off so you can see him.

and of course he obliges, readjusting his position until he’s straddling you, so he can keep kissing you as his fingers quickly work to undo the buttons of his shirt. as soon as he shrugs it all the way off, he puts his forearms on either side of your head, falling forward to get closer to you, lips smashing with yours like he’s fighting for breath and you’re the only one that can give it to him.

you can feel him rocking his hips against yours subconsciously and you moan, his erection pressed against your stomach through his pants. you manage to pull away from him for a second to breathe, leaning your head to rest against the pillow as you struggle to get oxygen into your brain.

but this only opens up area on your neck for him to mark, and he dives back in fervently, biting and sucking at your skin. you’re sure he can feel your pulse racing beneath his lips.

he bites at your earlobe particularly roughly and you gasp, hands flying up to grasp at his toned back muscles, clawing and trying to pull him even closer than he already is. your eyes flutter shut when he reaches up to cup your chin in his hands, tilting your face back towards him so he can kiss you again.

it seems like you’re there for hours, both almost completely clothed, tangled up on top of the bed with your lips crashing together like it’s the last time you’ll ever see each other, though this is only just the beginning. it may as well have been hours, with the way your cunt aches with need but you can’t bring yourself to stop kissing him.

the feeling isn’t anything you haven’t experienced many times before. you and seungcheol had been together for years before he proposed, years spent filled with passion and love and good memories. but this time feels completely different. maybe it’s all in your head, the post-wedding jitters finally catching up with you and making your head spin. but just the thought of doing the same things you’d done in the past, but now instead as a married couple, makes you feel like a brand new person. a person that belongs with seungcheol, forever.

finally he breaks away, breathing hard with his cheeks flushed and his hair a tangled mess. he moves off of his position on top of you, and you start to sit up and follow him, but he just pressed another breathy kiss to your cheek.

“‘m not going anywhere, baby,” he says softly, running a hand through your hair. “gonna get you some water and then ‘m gonna fuck you like you deserve.”

you whine in protest, but he doesn’t listen, moving off the bed and grabbing a cup and some ice, along with a water bottle from the refrigerator. he sits at the edge of the bed with you while you take small sips. he’s right; your mouth is dry, and the cool water feels so refreshing.

too soon the glass is empty and abandoned on the nightstand, and cheol moves to take his pants off, now a wrinkled mess but he doesn’t care.

he shifts behind you to unzip the back of your dress, gently sliding the fabric off your shoulders. you start to stand up to step out of the dress completely, but he stops you.

“said i would fuck you in this dress, didn’t i?” he whispers. his breath is warm by your ear and it sends a shiver down your spine. “just wanna see a little more of you.”

you moan, letting him slip the top of the dress down to your stomach, exposing your breasts as he slowly climbs on top of you again. “god, you’re so gorgeous,” he sighs, more to himself than to you as his hands slide up your body, gently kneading and squeezing your skin.

he sits back on his knees, bunching your dress up around your waist again to give him access to your cunt, begging to be filled. he pressed two fingers into you, slowly scissoring them back and forth to work you open, but he stops when you whine again.

“what’s wrong, baby?” he asks, his fingers still inside you as he leans down to kiss your breasts.

“i want you, cheol,” you plead with him, your hand on his wrist to stop him from moving. “tired of waiting, please.”

he presses one last kiss to your cheek, then pulls his fingers out of you, finally lining himself up at your entrance.

it’s the same stretch you’ve felt dozens of times, but everything is so different with him now. his arms are planted on either side of you, muscles bulging as he pushes into you slowly, gently. beads of sweat collect at his hairline and begin to roll down his temples until he’s finally sheathed all the way inside you, both of you panting for breath.

after a minute or two you squeeze seungcheol’s bicep, begging him to move. and he does, slowly rocking his hips back and forth at first, before gradually increasing his pace. you can feel every long, deep stroke of his hips as they crash into you, your breasts bouncing as he pushes you deeper into the mattress.

you grab onto his shoulders and hold on tightly, clinging to him for support. his grunts under his breath only spur you on, dragging him closer to you until he’s laying on top of you.

you spread your legs further apart, trying to wrap around his waist but the dress is in the way, and you call his name frustratedly. “seungcheol, please—”

as much as he doesn’t want to pull out, cheol doesn’t like hearing you upset, either, so with a wince he slows to a stop, moving away from between your legs so you can shove the dress away once and for all before he pushes back into you and resumes his pace.

you moan in relief, finally able to feel him like you’ve wanted to all night. cheol curses when you clench around him, and he grabs hold of your thighs and pushes them against your chest. at this angle you can feel him even deeper than before, and you whimper, eyes falling shut as you feel yourself start to come up to the edge of your orgasm.

“are you gonna cum, baby?” he groans, hips slamming against yours. “can feel you getting close, squeezing me so–ah, good. fuck, i love you so much.”

you grab onto his shoulders, your fingers scrambling over his muscles as you try to find something to ground yourself, nails digging into his skin.

his pace never falters, and without warning you let go when he says your name again, “my beautiful wife, look so fuckin’ beautiful, shit.”

you barely register when his hips begin to stutter as he chases his own orgasm, finally succumbing to it with a breathy whine as he releases inside you, spurt after spurt of his cum filling you up before he collapses on top of you.

your ears are still ringing when you finally come down, wrapped up in a blissful state of peace with seungcheol’s softening cock still inside you.

you inhale deeply, holding it in for a moment before exhaling, feeling your body start to relax and that’s when you know you have to get up now or not at all. you gently poke cheol’s side and he rolls off of you, but not before giving you another giggly kiss. he picks you up in his arms and spins you around once, then carries you off to the bathroom to clean up.

although later you find yourself pressed against the cool tile of the shower wall, caught up in another frenzy of kisses, however this time much softer and gentler. between the day’s festivities and the night’s activities, you’re both exhausted, but you couldn’t be happier being tangled in each other’s arms, not bearing to part for more than a few minutes at a time.

with room service ordered and a movie playing on the tv while you wait, you couldn’t think of a better place to be than by seungcheol’s side, not just tonight, but for every night afterwards.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it lets me know this is something people want to see more of and it helps a ton with being motivated to write. thanks for reading!!

> taglist | @wonderfulshinee @noniestars @onlymingyus @just-here-to-read-01 @wonuziex @enhacolor @yourfavoritefreakyhan @dkakapizzaboy @zozojella @rainyjeno @jwnghyuns @darlingvernon @uwuheeseungie @miriamxsworld

> strikethrough means your blog cannot be tagged, please check your visibility settings

> if you want to be notified when i post a new fic, you can join my taglist here!

[camryn-haitani]

omgg heyy so i binge read all of your writings and like im speechless.. like holy crap. but like youre legt so talented, so i was thinking if you could maybe like write about sam golbach hearing colby and I from the other room doing some nasty.. and like he cant help and after we finish he wants to recreate it?? i hope u unferstand what im yapping abt here.. anyways once i LOVE you work !! <3

YES OFC

it's like you're in my mind

I hope you like this <3

you sound heavenly, doll

Sam and Colby x FemReader

you and Colby start to get nasty in y'all's shared room. Sam decides to surprise Colby by coming by y'all's house all while he hears y'all and he can't help but make you sound like that too.

TW: SMUT, cursing, masturbating (Sam), p in v sex, name calling (darling, love, sugar, baby, princess, slut), smelling (colbys smells you a few times), fingering (fem receiving), unprotected sex, pussy eating, slapping (thighs, pussy, face), squirting, crying, hair pulling

I'm sorry if this is a lil short

"fuck, colby!" his cock is hitting your sweet spot over and over. he can't help it, you feel so good wrapped around him.

"I know, darling. just a lil more, I promise." colbys head in your neck, breathing in your scent. he can't get enough. whatever perfume, deodorant, body wash you use, keep using it because he loves it.

"c-cumm-ing" you manage to let out in breaths. all while Colby keeps hitting your spot over and over and over. he knows exactly where it is, he just loves to tease you, acting like he doesn't.

"cum with me, darling. take all of it, take all of me." the words flow right out as your walls flutter around him.

you both calm down from your high as Colby goes to get a washcloth to clean you both.

"imma go get some dinner for tonight, I'll be back soon, love." he kisses your temple and leaves.

you roll over and scroll through social media until you hear a knock on your door. still being sore from Colby, you wobble your way over to the door to open it.

"oh... hi Sam. what's up?" you ask him.

he brings you in for a hug. you, of course, hug him back. he trails his hands down to the fat of your ass. "you sounded heavenly, darlin'." he says in your neck, tickling your ear.

Earlier

the sound of Sam's fist hitting against his balls match with the pace colbys fucking you at. Sam angles his hand more upward to create the illusion he's actually fucking you.

"fuck y/n.... you feel so good." he throws his head back as he came on his chest and stomach. he had been teasing himself ever since you and Colby started. palming himself through his jeans, only fisting the top of his leaking cock, even going so painfully slow. sam couldn't take it anymore.

Now

you've been standing for a good minute and the more you do, the more your legs get weak. Sam feels your weight shift and he gets an idea.

"jump, doll." he orders. you nod as you jump with your remaining strength. Sam's hands still on your ass as he walks you over to your bed.

"been waiting for this, sugar. bet you taste like it too." he squeezes your thighs then gives them a slap. you pull up your legs to spread them even more.

"god you look divine, baby" he licks a fat stripe up your pussy. your hands immediately find a way into his hair. your thighs subconsciously close but Sam pulls away and gives your cunt a warning slap.

"keep them open darling, I need to taste all of you." Sam dove his tongue back into your wet hole.

the knot in your stomach begins to unfold and he could tell, so he pulls away.

"w-what no no no no, Sam please." you beg.

"I don't think so, princess. want you to cum hard on my cock. can you do that for me , sweet thing?"

you nod but you felt a sharp sting on your cheek. you moan at the contact and sam gripped your chin to make you look at him.

"I want words, slut. now answer me properly." he doesn't let go until you answer him.

"yes! 'm sorry!"

Sam's fingers circle ever so slowly on your clit. he coat his two middle fingers with your slick and his spit and push them past your dripping walls. Sam moved his fingers so fast, you never had time to speak. only little squeaks everytime his fingertips hit that special spot in you. with everytime he pushed them back in, your thighs ripple every time his knuckles hit your skin.

"sa-! 'm gon-! cum!" he didn't react in enough time when he felt warm liquids coat his stomach.

"fuck, doll... do that again for me, ok?" he pulls his fingers out and aligns his cock with your pussy. he pushes past your ring of muscle, Sam restrains himself from pushing all of himself in and fucking you. but he knew you need to adjust to him.

you give the nod of approval to continue, and he did just that. he gets to the base and pulls back out just to push back in.

he can finally start going faster when your little pained whimpers turn into moans.

"fuck, your doing so good for me, aren't you doll?" his head hung in your shoulder.

"yes! doing so good for you." when he out his head down, he reached an angle that he didn't hit before. that knot in your stomach came a little too early than you wanted it to but you didn't mind.

"sa-m cu- cum-ing 'gain" you somehow managed to get out. the same feeling on Sam's stomach appeared again but he didn't stop. you were soo sensitive that tears started to form in the corners of your eyes.

"I know darling, just a little more for me." Sam muffled in your shoulder.

"fuck, pull my hair y/n." and you did just that. you grabbed a handful of his blonde hair and tugged. he let out the most erotic moan you've ever heard.

"shit lemme cum inside you please?" his 'please' came out higher than the rest of his words.

"please! Sam cum in me, please please please!"

he gets himself up and pushed himself a few more times to make sure it's not coming out. he slides his cock out of you and goes to clean y'all up.

you hear the door unlock and bags being set down on the counter. the footsteps come closer to your room. your sprawled out on your bed, tears down your pretty cheeks along with a red spot from Sam, legs twitching, and pussy leaking with Sam's cum. Colby opens the door and basks in your position.

"I see y'all had some fun."

all you do is whine as they both laugh.

[selyeji]

polaroid

jamal musiala x reader (requested)

summary : a photo can capture love and keep it young forever. (childhood friends to lovers)

warnings : none

daily click to help palestine

a/n : this was kind of rushed sorry…

you and jamals relationship was no secret to anyone. in fact, you two were the absolute lovebirds of germany. the story between you two was an absolute cliche.

…

it started in the cold sky of england, crouched down on the grass, waiting for jude to finish with his training.

jude bellingham was a close friend of yours, you two being neighbors and schoolmates as kids. it wasn’t a surprise when you two were best friends.

hearing footsteps caused by the long grass, you assume he was approaching. until you turn your head to see 2 pairs of shoes instead. you got up to see jude, and an unknown face. your brows furrow in confusion, you never saw him before, in practice nor in town.

jude picked up your confused face, “y/n, this is jamal, jamal this is y/n.” the boy smiled at you as he took your hand, shaking it.

“nice to meet you y/n.” jamal said, his voice sweet and warming.

you continue to walk around town, stopping by for some snacks from time to time. you learned that he was from germany, grew up there pretty much until now. he played football aswell, likes the same movies as you, you two were more similar than you thought.

this has now become a daily routine for the three of you, go to school, finish training and walk around together.

“can you guys seriously hurry up!” you yelled at the two of them, fresh out of training, muscles sore.

“ughh… coach gave us the worst exercises man.” jude groaned out.

“c’mon, i’ll miss the sale and i wont get to buy it anymore!” you said as they both caught up to you. that sale was in a photography store, although you already had a camera, you’ve been dying to get one of those polaroid ones.

you hurriedly ran into the store, luckily enough there was still some stock left aswell as its film. once you checked out and paid, you see both jude and jamal waiting outside. you smile at them, lifting up the plastic bag with the box inside. the three of you continue to walk to a local park.

“what’s so special about that anyways” jude asked, he is much more of a talker compared to jamal. too much sometimes even.

“its a polaroid camera, now i don’t have to go to a printer shop every damn time. you can also stop limping, not everyone on this area has to know you’re an athlete or something.” you spat back while trying to open up the box.

“you two are like siblings y’know. always fighting.” jamal said, giggling at the both of you.

you held the camera up, facing it towards your direction.

“alright, cheeese!” you said, quickly taking a photo, more of a selfie. you felt squished in between the two of them when they tried to get in the frame.

“what the hell we didn’t even get a warning, you got my bad angle didn’t you.” jude complained.

“blehhh not my fault.” you said, shaking the film waiting for the photo to appear. “see! you look fine.”

you showed the photo to the both of them, the three of you sweetly smiling. you on the middle, your arms up holding the camera.

finding an ice cream place to sit at, jude went to the restroom while you and jamal settled down. you took out a marker, writing down the date on the photo.

“you want to keep the photo jamal?” you hand it over to him, maintaining eye contact.

“are you sure…? i mean there’s only one copy right?” he said softly, his hand hesitantly grabbing it.

“of course, you live farther away from the two of us. take it.” you insisted on him even more.

“thank you y/n” jamal said, gazing into the picture once more before taking out his wallet. inserting it in.

you blushed slightly, jamal was always sweet and kind to you. he’s always considerate of others even putting them before him.

once jamal went home, you and jude were left alone walking together since your houses were right next to each other. you felt his elbow bump into yours, not in accident but more intentionally. you look at his smug face. returning a confused face at him.

“you like him, don’t you?” jude whispered, that only you can hear.

“what? who?” you played confused. obviously not gonna work with jude, especially with your cheeks red.

“you think i’m blind? the way you guys look and talk to at each other? and giving him the photo, wooow you’re hiding it soo well.” jude said, the last sentence sarcastically.

“you saw that? i thought you were taking a shit…” you said, “whatever, he doesn’t like me like that. goodnight jude.” stretching your arms out as you walked into your front door.

“he does! and goodnight to you too.” jude said, before going into his.

that night, you couldn’t stop thinking about what he said. you never really considered having feelings for someone, passing it off as admiration only.

you kept turning in bed, your head filled with thoughts. now you were blushing, if jamal really would like you back, what would it be like? he was already sweet as a friend, but as a partner? you would melt.

trying to get these thoughts away, you were still young. he’s just being nice, jamal is naturally like that to everyone.

…

even after years, those thoughts still flood your mind. the three of you grew up already, both their careers in football slowly rising. jude played for birmingham while jamal played for chelsea development squad, that still doesn’t effect your relationship.

jamal invited you and jude out to a small cafe. wearing a casual outfit, you and jude arrived at the same time. jamal waved to the both of you to sit, already waiting.

you notice he already order your usual orders, smiling to yourself. you sat down, thanking him.

“right, i have to tell you guys something.” jamal said, he seemed nervous, his finger fiddling with each other.

“what has gotten you worked up mate?” jude mumbled, mouth filled with the sandwich he was devouring.

“i’m going back to germany… to play for bayern munich…” he said quietly, avoiding eye contact with you two.

both you and jude stayed still for a minute, silence in your table.

“for bayern munich… like the bayern munich..?” jude asked quietly.

“holy shit he’s gonna go pro jude!” you hit judes shoulder.

“it’s just the junior team…” jamal said humbly.

“that’s still pretty big, i’m happy for you!” you replied with a smile.

“i thought you guys would be pretty mad.” he said to himself.

“we’d never be mad at you for doing something good for yourself.” jude reassured him.

“thank you man.”

after the meetup, you sluggishly laid in bed. barely motivated to do anything. you were truly happy for him indeed, you just wished the two of you had more time. you cursed yourself for wasting these years together and still not telling him.

you found yourself curled up in bed, the empty spot beside you filled by a pillow. you could only wish it was a persons warmth, his. but telling him now, right before he leaves would be selfish of you.

…

it’s been 2 years now since then, jude also left for germany a year later. it was only you left in the land of england. jude of course comes back home from time to time, usually only for the national team.

but now you weren’t left alone, you were now in the streets of germany. bayern munich has given you a job as a photographer for their social media. you didn’t even hesitate nor think twice before saying yes. this was your dream, photos were art to you.

you couldn’t help but think of jamal aswell. you saw him online, happily playing for the club. it bummed you out that jude started playing for dortmund, their rival. but it would be nice to see two childhood friends in a rivalry, they couldn’t hate each other no matter what.

you walked around with the other staff, introducing yourself and wanting to show a good impression. until it was time to head out to the field, you got your camera set up and ready.

players continued with training, your eyes gazing towards jamal. he was all grown up now, well he looked like the pictures online but he did look more attractive. you got back to work though, taking pictures from time to time, getting the perfect frame. sending it to social media staff.

it was only after training, when players started to go back to the changing rooms when he noticed you. jamals heart skipped, you sat there smiling with other staff.

jamal quickly showered and changed, not wanting to miss an opportunity to get back to you. he went out, this time you were alone with your camera. you seemed to be re-checking the photos.

the sun glowed your skin as the cold breeze played with your hair. he approached you slowly, not wanting to startle you.

“y/n? you didn’t tell me you started working here.” jamal said, he sat next to you but kept his distance.

“yeah, just today, i didn’t know how to tell you. sorry about that.” you softly chuckle.

jamals eyes darted to your camera, the screen lighting up a picture of him while working out. his brows furrowed, perhaps you were thinking of him aswell. you follow his eyes and immediately smile.

“well, who wouldn’t take a picture of a bambi?” you tease him. proud of his skills and how much he improved since he was young. remembering times when u showed up to his games and training. cheering them on every time.

“i was wondering… if i could take you to dinner later?” jamal quietly said, scratching the back of his neck to not make eye contact with you.

“like a date?” you asked, resulting to his cheeks blushing and fiddling with his fingers.

“no-no! i mean… well, if you want to…?” his voice crack, his hand gesture showing his obvious shyness.

“it’s a date then, see you later?” you said, standing up. the bright orange sunset glowing your eyes.

“see you!..”

you arrived in the restaurant just on time, entering the building. your face was immediately met with fancy interior, low yellow lights, quiet jazz playing in the background. the place wasn’t as packed, just a family and a few businessmen you assume.

looking around, you saw jamal already sat and waiting. it reminded you of the times back then in england, always being an early bird within the group.

you waved at him as you slowly approached the table until he got up, pulling your chair for you to sit. whispering a thank you, he was still that sweet boy you met.

“didn’t expect this place to be so… fancy.” you looked around the room while settles onto his chair. “now i look out of place with this outfit.” you laugh it off.

“sorry about that, but hey atleast you’re not alone.” jamal giggled, pointing to his outfit which was just a pair of baggy pants, a white shirt, jacket, and a cap. which both of you just laugh at. “i already bought us some food, they had the usual you bought back at england.” he said.

“seriously? thats great, lesser waiting time. thank you for remembering.” you responded, slight tint on your cheeks.

“it’s no problem really, so… how have you been lately? we haven’t kept touch since i left.” jamal said in a nervous tone.

“it’s been fine for me, im just glad im able to catch up with you two here in germany. what about you? you and jude still talk to each other even if he’s in dortmund?” you tease.

“thats nice to hear, im glad. we talk from time to time, just crazy he moved to dortmund.”

as the conversation continued, time ticking by as customers leave one by one until it’s you two left. you were startled on how much hours passed by, your conversation wasn’t even near to ending.

“it’s getting late, i think i should go…” you said, pushing your chair back before jamal stopped you.

“i’ll drive you back, i insist. the rain is about to get stronger.” he said, pointing out the small little drops by the window, slowly falling as more land.

he accompanies you out the door, the cold air crashing onto your faces right away. nose becoming a bit more numb, before you could take another step, he grabbed your arm softly.

“uhh… here, this should keep you warm.” jamal said, his hands carefully cover your shoulders with hid jacket.

“thank you…” your voice responded in a quiet tone. nose and cheeks warm as you pulled the soft material into your arms.

the ride was in comfortable silence, jamals playlist playing through the speakers while you set your gaze in the empty streets. your eyes darted to jamal from time to time, you could feel his nervousness. he was holding back something but you didn’t question it, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable.

once you arrived, you unbuckled your seatbelt and opened the car door.

“thank you for the time jamal, it was really thoughtful of you.” you whispered. your steps quiet as you walk to your apartment building until you heard rapid footsteps behind you.

“y/n!”

��ah sorry! i forgot to give back your jacket-”

“sorry for not saying this earlier, and in the past years. ever since we were young i always loved you and i still do. i was afraid of ruining our friendship so i never expressed my feelings but… our distance from the past year really affected them. i don’t want to lose you again, so please y/n… i love you.” jamal spitted out quickly, not wanting to focus in making the conversation awkward.

you blinked in silence for a moment, maintaining eye contact while jamals eyes were avoiding yours. your cheeks burned as you smiled sweetly at him. you embrace his tall presence in a hug, your hands reach up to his shoulders from behind.

“i love you too.” you said, barely above a whisper. feeling the beat of his heart even through the layers of each clothing.

before he could even process what happened, you pull away. both of your palms sneaking up to his cheeks as you kissed him on the lips, this time jamal caught up, snaking his arms around your waist. pushing you further in, you could feel his growing smile against yours.

“this is much warmer than your jacket.” you said, wanting to light the mood once your lips separate. he giggled against your warm skin.

…

it’s been months since you two established a proper relationship and is very well known to the public. it wasn’t easy hiding when jamal is a known footballer, but the both of you didn’t mind.

once your relationship went public, fans were quick to make opinions, positive or not. but most of germany supported your relationship, being the most known couple in the country.

of course, informing jude way before announcing.

y/n - 15:28

jamal and i are now together, you can leave us alone now😛

*photo*

jude - 15:30

well about damn time 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️

wait… y’all hanging out without me?🤨

y/n - 15:31

most restaurants don’t allow wild pets sorry mate

jude - 15:32

never contact me ever again. 😐

you sat with the other photographers waiting for the match. deciding to scroll on social media for a bit, you come across a post about jamal. it was a pre-game photo, still in his casual attire. but something was off, he started using a clear phone case.

the next slide zooms into the phone, revealing some sort of photo. fans were quick to question and become curious, although you knew exactly what it was.

you smile to yourself, he still kept it after years. you turned off your phone, taking a break. the game started, players going into the pitch and lining up.

half-time has passed with the score up 1-0 for bayern munich. you were able to take decent photos for the social media accounts. with the game already ending, bayern munich winning.

fans cheered as you start talking with the social media team. you hesitated going into the field with jamal, wanting to take photos aswell until your co-worker tapped your shoulder.

“go ahead and celebrate with jamal, i’ll take care of everything, dont worry.” he smiled at you, patting your back insisting you to go.

“thank you! you can check my camera for extra photos!” you yelled as you ran towards jamal.

your body clashing onto his as you hugged him tightly, almost suffocating his chest.

“you played so well baby…” you whispered as you peppered his face with kisses. jamal trying to resist smiling too widely. you pull away, making contact with his eyes, filled of joy with a mix of shyness from the public eye.

now you were laid in bed, jamal snoring into the pillows. exhausted from the day, immediately sleeping once his warm body crashed into the sheets.

light lit up from his phone, showing a notification. you grabbed it checking who it was, you trusted him of course but it didn’t hurt to look. both of you knew each others password.

you scoffed when you saw the name jude.

jude - 00:21

yo, good game man congrats!

that’s another trophy in the cabinet for u

you turned off his phone, not wanting to evade his privacy even more. turning over to the back case, you see the same photo you gave him years ago.

a picture of you, him and jude. admiring the young features, seeing how the three of you matured. but even in the photo and today, your love for each other did not change one bit.

a/n : i am not a camera nerd so i probably got some stuff wrong… ☝️🤓

this took a while to write cause my period cramps were killing me and some irl stuff so i needed to take a break… ill be in my writing grind soon

[angels-fantasy]

Top Secret Fiction Ch. 3

Grass Talks (Literally)

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Description: After meeting the one and only pro hero Dynamight on a dating app, you two begin to see each other. Because of the dangers that come with his hero work, you both promise to be completely honest with each other from the beginning; though you can't help but keep one big secret from him.

You write fan fiction, mostly about him.

Chapter Details: Soft, lowkey ooc Bakugou but thats bc I imagine him to be a lot more mellow as an adult. Little bit of a serious talk, but nothing crazy. Readers quirk is also mentioned

Word Count: 1k

previous chapter

The date had been going well so far, and the sun was even beginning to set since now it was almost 7:00 pm.

You two were currently lying on your backs together, looking up at the sky filled with clouds, stomachs full of yummy food.

"That one looks like a giraffe, or something else with a long neck." You said point up at a cloud.

Bakugou hummed, "Nah, I think it's a flower or something. Don't you see the stem? And there's even petals around it."

Tilting your head at a different angle, you tried to see what he saw.

"I don't see it! I thought I would, since I'm used to seeing flowers all the time..." You said while still looking up in wonder.

Bakugou sat up and rested his elbows on his knees, "That's right. You're a florist ain't you? What made you wanna do that?"

You stayed lying down and answered him, "Yeah, I've been a florist for a few years now. I chose it because of my quirk."

"What is your quirk anyways? Is it something with plants and all that crap?"

"Yep. I can talk to plants, so taking care of them is much easier and I love being able to help others that are struggling with their own plants."

Bakugou rubbed his hand along the grass, "So me doing this... is it hurting the grass?"

You closed your eyes and listened, hearing the grass ask what it was that was rubbing all over them.

"It's not hurting them, but they can feel it."

He pulled his hand away. "What about walking on the grass. Does that hurt 'em?"

"Sometimes it can. If you're walking normally, then no. But if you're stomping all over them, then yes it does hurt them." You said, finally sitting up and facing him.

You leaned over and ran your hand along the top of the grass very lightly, hearing the voice of the grass sigh at the feeling. You learned early on after developing your quirk that most plants actually enjoy being pet, if you can call it that.

"They like it when you do this to them. Just make sure you do it really gently." You said while showing him how to pet the grass.

He followed your directions with a grunt and did the same motion as you.

You laughed lightly, "Petting grass is kind of silly now that I think about it. I guess it's different since I know that the grass likes it."

He shook his head and pulled his hand away, "It's not. I think it's interesting. I have some plants at home, now I'm wonderin' if they're happy with me."

You giggled at that, "I'm sure they are. But thank you. I always felt like my quirk wasn't super useful since I couldn't be a hero, y'know?"

"You don't gotta be a hero to have a useful quirk. Everyone can find a way to use their quirk, trust me."

You smiled softly, "You know what, you're really sweet. You don't portray yourself like that on the media at all."

"I ain't sweet." He said looking away shyly.

"If you say soooo." You cooed.

He smirked lightly and looked at you, "Thanks for uh, being genuine by the way."

You furrowed your eyebrows, "What do you mean? Why wouldn't I be genuine?"

"I mean like, almost everyone I've met just wants to be with me because I'm a hero. It just makes dating a lot harder, I guess."

You frowned at his words. You knew there were people who were out for money, but to play with someone's feelings like that? That was just heartless. You knew Bakugou was a grown man and fully capable of handling himself, but you couldn't help but feel bad.

You place on of your hands on top of his and said, "I understand what you mean, and I want to let you know that I don't have any bad intentions at all."

"I won't lie and say I'm not a fan of you as a hero," You continued, "but right now I'm getting to know you as Bakugou. So I hope you'll continue to allow me to."

Bakugou genuinely smiled. No smirk, or sly remark following it. Just a smile.

"Thanks. That means more than you know. But on that same topic, I also wanted to talk to you about a boundary I have if we're going to continue seeing each other." He said seriously.

You nodded your head and listened attentively.

"Because of my line of work, I just ask that you be honest with me about things. I fuckin' hate liars in general, but I really need you to understand that I can't have someone around if they're gonna be keepin' secrets and shit." He said frowning, almost as if he was thinking of a particular person when speaking about liars.

You nodded and smiled. "I promise, I'll be completely honest with you. I really wanna keep seeing you and if that's all it takes then I'm willing to do it."

He grunted. "Good. Let's clean up now, I'll take you home."

Just as you were about to start cleaning up, your phone went off. You picked it up quickly and saw that it was an email, a notification from the site you write fan fiction on.

You bit your lip and thought about what Bakugou just said. Deciding to ignore the notification, you just continued to clean up.

...

After Bakugou had dropped you off back at home, you quickly changed into your pajamas and got comfortable.

You said goodnight to Cheerios and your plants, who said goodnight back.

When you got in bed, you looked through your emails and at the notifications from HeroFiction.com that you had received earlier.

You began to think about Bakugou's words again.

"I fuckin' hate liars."

You shook your head and tried to rid away any negative thoughts you had. This secret wasn't that big of a deal, and it was probably for the better that he didn't know.

Keeping one secret wouldn't hurt, right?

...

next chapter

authors note

i had fun writing this chapter :) i hope you liked it! i also hope you liked softer bakugou here, hehe.

taglist: @doumadono @54fangirl @andysdrafts @dagger-dragger @lovra974 @l4rsun1vrrse @emmab3mma @littlkittenfan @tatiquichi @cloudxluv @seonne @shonen-brainrot @the2ndl @gold24fish @cxp1d @rv19

(those in pink are not able to be tagged unfortunately)

[zorrasucia]

Teach Me Tonight - Part 8

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Deleted Scene] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Deleted Scene] Part 8:

Reader x Carmy Berzatto (The Bear FX)

Rating: Explicit (3k)

Tags: Smut, Set sometime after the opening of The Bear, Porn with a little plot, Virgin!Carmy, Masturbation, Fingering, Pegging, Thigh Riding, Fluff, Both Carmy and Reader have a bit of a praise kink

Summary:

(by popular demand and because I think I learnt something about myself lmao)

You walked inside the apartment after a night out with your friends that had left you a little tipsy. It was late and everything was dark. You took your shoes off and padded around, hoping you didn't wake up Carmy.

As you approached the bedroom you could hear some rustling and humming inside. You cracked the door open a little. With the glow of the moon and the streetlights you could make out the silhouette of Carmy lying in bed, hair damp from the shower and head tilted back in pleasure. A soft moan escaped his lips.

You smiled. It wasn't the first time you had walked in on him masturbating. Sometimes it would happen that he would get back from work, find you sleeping and touch himself beside you - you had woken up twice for the end of it, sleepily kissing his face and saying how good he had been, and falling back asleep. Another time in the shower, you walked in and helped him finish. He had seen you too a couple of times - one had ended with his head between your legs. Bottomline, it wasn't an issue - more often than not it was a serious turn on. And so you leaned on the doorframe, quiet and careful not to interrupt Carmy, looking at how beautiful he looked in the pale moonlight. Except he turned over and instead of seeing him holding his cock like you expected, you saw him curling two fingers inside his asshole, all digits shiny with lube, his back arching in pleasure as he got on all fours.

"Fuck," he whined, a strong exhale followed by your name.

You pressed your thighs together, your heartbeat racing, enjoying the sight more than you ever thought you would.

Carmy kept arching into himself and you recognized the frustration of not being able to reach your climax. After some moments of thought you decided to walk in.

"Carm," you said, your voice low. "Can I help?"

"Fuck," he uttered, slightly surprised. He was sweaty and desperate and it stirred something inside you. "Fuck, sorry, you don't have to-"

"I know, I want to."

He handed you the bottle of lube and you warmed it up in your right hand, coating every finger. With your left hand, you tugged on his wrist, prying the fingers that were deep inside him, out.

"Please, please," he begged.

"It's okay, I'll take care of you," you leaned over, kissing the base of his spine, the pretty dimples he had there. Carmy keened once every finger was out and you soothed his back and waist, appreciating the view from this angle you rarely enjoyed. "Tell me if I'm hurting you," it was an ongoing agreement between you two but it was always nice to remind each other, especially when he was as desperate as this.

"Yes," he panted.

Carefully, you inserted your index and middle fingers, following what he had been doing before - your hands were smaller anyway. The sharp moan he let out was unlike any sound you had ever heard him make and it electrified you down to your toes.

"Holy shit, Carmy," you mumbled.

You were cautious, going slow, knuckle by knuckle,  but he thrust back into your hand.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he cursed, and started fucking himself into your fingers, squeezing, his back muscles flexing. "Thank you, thank you."

After a while of that, his rhythm started faltering and that frustrated sound came back, you leaned over and whispered:

"Tell me how you want it."

Carmy exhaled, stopping mid-thrust to recover his breath.

"Can you- shit, fuck- can you move your fingers?"

"Like you do with me?" you asked, remembering the delicious waves his fingers made inside you.

"Exactly like that," he chuckled and leaned back to caress your forearm.

You moved your fingers like he asked, changing the rhythm until it was something Carmy enjoyed. Your wrist cramped, unaccustomed to the motion, and when you shifted and started over, Carmy let out a cry of absolute bliss.

"Oh," you marveled, trying to touch the same spot again.

"Right fucking there, please, please, please..." he begged and you were so happy to give him everything he wanted. Your underwear was soaked with the noises he was making.

"You're doing so good, Carmy," you said.

His hand reached behind to touch you, anything, your thigh, your arm, and squeeze the hell out of it while his asshole clenched around your fingers.

"I'm so close," he fell face forward, his ass up as you kept hitting that same spot. "Feels so good."

Some primal part of you awoke, and you leaned forward to grab his hair and pull on it, not too hard, just enough to push him over the edge.

"Jesus, fuck, holy shit," he said, followed by some unintelligible noises that were probably curses too, and he came hard - shaking and panting.

You smiled, keeping your fingers in there and moving until he asked you to stop. You kissed his dimples again and went inside the bathroom to wash your hands and get some wipes. Gently, you moved Carmy to lie on his side and cleaned his ass, and the mess of cum on his stomach and chest. You laid beside him on the bed, him stark naked and you fully clothed.

"Baby, baby, baby," he mumbled, his eyes glazed and fucked out, caressing your thigh, beckoning you closer so he could kiss you. "Thank you. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Thank you."

You kissed him deeply, passionately, with all the hunger he had made you feel while you fingered him. Then you pressed a chaste peck on his jaw.

"What're you sorry for, Carm?" you asked softly.

"I didn't mean to force you to-"

"You didn't force me. You've never forced me to do anything," you said, carding your fingers through his hair. "I don't think you have it in you, Berzatto," you teased.

He smiled lazily.

"How'd this all come up?" you asked after a while, still caressing his face and hair.

He reached over you to his bedside table and handed you the sex book you had gifted him months and months ago when you first started fucking. The covers were worn in and there were several dog eared pages; one was on prostate stimulation.

"I know you meant it as a joke," he smiled bashfully. "But it got me thinking- And I wanted to try it out myself before saying something," he explained. "Didn't mean to leave you out of it or anything."

You kissed him again, tenderly this time. It was such a vulnerable thing and he was willing to share it with you. You caressed his shoulders and chest.

"So did you like it?" you asked against his lips.

Carmy nodded. "It was fucking fire."

"Well, I thought it was unbelievably hot too, so..." you confessed.

Carmy hummed softly, almost purring as he leaned forward to kiss you. His hands teased at the belt loops of your jeans, inching closer and closer to the button and zipper.

"There's no need, Carm," you whispered; you could tell he was completely wiped out.

"I want to. I want to," he got rid of your jeans and underwear with shaky hands. "I'm just gonna say thank you real quick."

He went down your body and placed himself between your thighs, hoisting your legs over his shoulders.

"Oh, you really thought it was hot," he gasped, the proof of it glistening right in front of him.

"I wouldn't lie about that," you chuckled, already bucking your hips at the feeling of his breath on your skin.

"Good," he said.

He closed his eyes as he licked and sucked and kissed you, giddy and glowing from his orgasm. You let go, enjoying all of it, caressing his face and feeling the tight knot of anticipation in you unravel fast. You came with a sigh, gently grinding on his nose, feeling weightless.

Carmy climbed back up, and put his head on his hand. He looked at you.

"What is it?" you asked, smiling.

"Would you-" he turned away for a moment, embarrassed. "Would you ever consider- uh- fucking me?"

Your heart skipped a beat and you could feel the fire in your lower belly reigniting.

"I'll definitely think about it, Carm."

~

You knocked on the backdoor to the restaurant and Richie opened it, backpack in tow.

"Hey, there," he greeted you, kissing your cheek, and let you in. "Mr OCD is almost done with his deep clean."

The kitchen was almost empty. Syd was picking up her stuff - with a smile and a roll of her eyes she pointed to where Carmy was, kneeling and scrubbing.

You had seen him clean the floor before, except now finding him on his knees reminded you of a few nights before when he was on all fours, keening with every move your fingers made, arching his back...

"Oh, hey," he looked up and smiled at you. "Why are you here? You okay?"

"Yeah," you said, trying to hide the blush on your face with your scarf. "You said you'd meet me like half an hour ago, is all."

Carmy tilted his head and furrowed his eyebrows.

"That can't be right," he turned to the clock. "Shit. Syd's still here?"

"She just left."

"I'm sorry, lost track of time," he got up and started picking everything up.

Once every light was off, you stood there in the doorway waiting for him. He had to scoot close to you to get through; your eyes wandered over his body.

"What?" he chuckled.

"Just thinking about how good you look on your knees," you flirted.

He laughed and kissed you hungrily against the doorframe.

"I'll do it. I'll fuck you whenever you want," you said, your cold hands finding the skin of his waist. "I mean it."

He ground against you, humming with pleasure.

"Fuck," his voice was hoarse. "Next week okay?"

"Next week works for me," you said playfully before licking his lower lip.

He kissed you one last time before he pulled away to lock the door. You shivered a little in the Chicago cold and Carmy put an arm around you.

~

Carmy guided you to stand by the bed; he sat in front of you, caressing the side of your hips and thighs, something adoring in his gaze.

"You sure?" he asked.

"Yeah," you replied, your voice breathy with nerves and need.

"Okay."

He placed a kiss in the valley between your breasts, inhaling you deep, and then leaned sideways to retrieve the harness from his bedside table. He secured the strap on carefully to your hips. You watched him work, the way his hands moved over and around you, the way his eyes lit up when he looked up at you. You cupped his face.

"And you? You sure?" your thumb circled his cheekbone.

He smiled and kissed your palm. "Yeah."

You finally took your eyes off of him and glanced at the dildo. Carmy had chosen it. It was on the shorter and slimmer side, which was a relief in a way - the last thing you wanted to do was hurt him in the heat of the moment. You touched the side of it experimentally.

"All good?" he asked, tilting his head.

"A little weird," you replied honestly. You took a step further between his legs, your nails scratching gently at his muscled back. "Want to make you feel good so bad," you said in a raspy voice.

"Fuck," Carmy groaned when you pushed him gently to lay on the bed.

"On your hands and knees," you told him, the thrill of anticipation made you feel less self conscious about taking control.

He rushed to obey, turning his back towards you, letting you see the butt plug he had placed inside himself before you came home. He was nervous about stretching himself in front of you, he had said.

"Let me know if I can help next time," you said softly, one hand soothing the small of his back and the other holding a bottle of lube. "I mean if you- If we like it, you know?"

"Next time," he agreed, his voice breathy. "Didn't want to blow my load before you even put the strap on is all."

You giggled. "It would have been kinda hot." He huffed in response.

Your hands settled on his waist, bracing as you kneeled on the bed behind him.

You poured a huge amount of lube on your hand, letting a dollop of it fall on Carmy's ass, making him hiss a little from the cold, while you covered the dildo in it.

You tugged on the butt plug, a mess of lube gathering on the base of it already, making it glide right out as Carmy made a drawn out, low sound.

"Fuck," you whispered, heart hammering inside your chest. You lined up the dildo. "Slow at first, okay?"

"Yes, please, just- please," he begged and you knew the harness would need some serious washing once you were done with how turned on you were getting. It was everything: Carmy's pleading voice, his back muscles flexing, the excitement of making him feel good, the nervousness of trying something entirely new...

You pushed inside him.

"Oh, fuck," he said in a hoarse voice. You could see his legs trembling as he contained the impulse of leaning back on you too quick. You moved gently, carefully, inch by inch until you bottomed out. "Fuck, yes!" he let out.

You stayed still for a while, letting him get accustomed to the stretch, listening to him breathe deep, something like a growl trapped in the back of his throat.

"Okay?" you asked caressing his sides, from his waist up to his ribs and back, soft skin scribbled with ink.

"Yeah," he sighed. "You can move now."

You leaned back and forth, holding his waist. He only hummed softly - it wasn't good, not yet. You tried shifting a little to find a less awkward position.

"You make this look so easy," you complained after a while, struggling to get comfortable.

Carmy laughed and you joined him.

"You showed me what to do," he said, reaching behind to touch your hand reassuringly. "But some of it was- I don't know- instinct I guess..."

And you knew what he meant. There came a moment in sex where something took over, when your hips moved with a will of their own.

"Hey. It's okay," he reassured you. "Pretty sure that if you just stayed there and talked dirty for a minute I would still come."

You giggled and the vibrations made Carmy moan a little, that delicious sound you loved so much. You had to at least try.

"Mind if we change it up a little?" you leaned over to place a kiss on his spine. "You on your back so I can see you?"

"Yeah, yeah. That sounds- yeah," he agreed breathily.

With you between his open legs, it wasn't all that different from when you were riding him. You could see Carmy close his eyes in pleasure as you finally found a rhythm.

"Fucking- that's so good, so fucking good, baby," he said and the praise went right down to your pussy, the mere friction of the harness making you moan in unison with Carmy. One of your hands gripped the mattress while the other held tight to his side, that bit of skin between the V of his stomach and his hip. He was sweating and heaving underneath you.

"Fuck. You look so fucking hot, Carm, holy shit," you blurted out. It made him smile and reach for your hand. His touch was gentle, grateful, even as he let out a growl from deep inside his chest.

You shifted your hips a little, trying to keep the strap on in place and Carmy exhaled shakily.

"Right there," he squeezed your wrist. "Right fucking there. Please, please, please..."

"I got you, Carm, I got you,"

You kept hitting that spot until he was writhing on the bedsheets, reaching for the edge of the bed, and arching his back. There were tears in the corners of his eyes.

"Please keep going," he whined.

You scratched his skin, the sinful sounds you two were making spurring you on.

"Look at you! You're wonderful, you're perfect, Carm."

"Fuck you," he said without bite. He was meeting your thrusts desperately. "You can't say shit like that when I'm so close."

"Oh, I think it's the perfect moment to say shit like that," you replied, fucking him faster, whispering sweet nothings between each thrust: "You're gorgeous. And you're being so good, Carm, so good..."

"I- I'm-" was all he could say before he came with a long groan - hands in his hair, neck arched, veins pulsing.

If the sounds he was making were any indication, he was coming harder than he ever had, and the thought made you shiver with satisfaction. You stopped moving and he exhaled heavily.

"What the fuck was that?" he was panting and smiling, sweaty like he had run for miles.

You caressed his thighs, your eyes wandering over his chest and stomach, and the trail of dark hair that went down his navel - all covered with cum.

"Good?" you asked with a proud grin.

"I think I died for a minute there, baby," he said like it was the highest praise. And maybe it was.

"I'm going to pull out, get you cleaned up," you said softly after a couple of minutes. He nodded dreamily, letting out a grunt once the dildo was out.

You were thorough and gentle, kissing and caressing as you wiped his skin with a wet cloth. It took a little while with how messy you had been with the lube situation and how hard Carmy had come.

"Look," he gestured at the scratches you left on his hip, bright red lines on pale skin.

"Shit, sorry" you leaned over to kiss them too. "Does it hurt?"

"A little. I kinda dig it though," he said with a smirk. "Might get a tattoo there later," he teased, and you had to silence a needy, embarrassing sound.

You climbed up his body and kissed him, all tongue and fervor, your fingers buried deep in his curls. You had taken the harness off and arousal was wetting the inside of your thigh.

"Please tell me we'll do this again," you said against his lips.

"You liked it too?" he asked, a little surprised.

"I'm fucking soaked, Carm," you confessed, too tired to try to be delicate about it. "Loved making you feel that good, cum that hard..."

He hummed contentedly, tracing lines on your back with his fingers. "Any notes?"

"I might have to use a toy when we're done next time but other than that, no," you said honestly.

"Not now?" he asked, frowning.

Before Carmy, you were okay with going to bed frustrated, or rubbing your clit furiously in the bathroom to get a quick orgasm after some mediocre sex. This wasn't that. It was fucking great sex. However-

"I don't want to move," you replied, snuggling closer to Carmy's side.

"Oh, I get that," he chuckled; it was a weary sound, he was struggling to stay awake.

You felt so warm and comfortable. You didn’t want to break the lovely snowglobe of tenderness you were both in to grab a fucking toy from the drawer.

After a moment of thought, Carmy angled one of his legs in your direction, his muscular thigh now between your own. He nudged upwards, smearing your arousal on his own skin, silently proposing a solution to your problem.

"Can I-?" you asked anyway, your hips moving forwards, a shaky exhale leaving your lips when your clit touched his skin.

"Mhmm," he nodded, capturing your lips in a kiss, drowning your moans as you started riding his thigh in earnest.

You were so worked up it didn't take long, a few frantic thrusts and you were shaking and rolling your eyes.

"Carm," you gasped, and he held you through it, one hand on the small of your back and the other caressing your face. His half lidded eyes stared as you finally came, shivering in his hold.

"Thank you," he whispered between kisses. "I mean it. You were- It was everything."

You smiled groggily.

"I loved it. I loved it, Carm," you repeated. "I love you," you managed to say before falling asleep, safe in his arms.

~

@th3h0nkz @faephoria @wadupppp

[shares-a-vest]

@steddielovemonth Day 8: Love is... The heartbeat I can feel when I hug him (Prompt by anon)

wc: 535 | Rated: T | cw: Hospital setting, mild descriptions of injuries, scars and bandages

Tags: Post Season 4, Eddie Lives, Hurt/Comfort, Physical Injury

I’m Taking You Home Now

Eddie swings his legs over the side of the hospital and plants his sock-covered feet almost to the ground for what is hopefully the final time.

He knows Wayne and Steve are picking him up today. He knows they have packed his things – that a fresh, comfortable and new set of clothes is sitting on the hospital chair in front of him.

It’s the same chair Wayne, Dustin, Jeff and Steve have each alternated between them for the better part of two months while he has been stuck in Hawkins General. He also knows that said chair is uncomfortable, causing Wayne’s hip to stiffen up with every visit – one that makes Steve grumble and say that his back is ‘fine’.

Eddie knows that he is going home today, to a sorta-new trailer in a relocated park.

He just can’t believe the day has finally come, is all.

Nor can he believe that actual Good Dude Steve Harrington is walking in to collect him, all smiles. Just for him.

“You ready?” he beams.

“Yeah,” Eddie nods, frowning and balling his fists on the stiff mattress.

His feet are only barely touching the ground. The bed is still too high up, positioned the same as it has been since he first woke up a good week and a half after Spring Break.

His body still aches all over and he’s got more than a bandage (or five), plus a few more stitches to deal with at later dates.

But he’s intact. Put back together.

Alive.

Steve sets a bag down, one that looks just like the bag of delicious food and treats Henderson’s mom always brought in and shared around.

“Let me help,” he says, coming to stand right in front of him.

“Just…” Eddie trails off, settling back down, “Give me a minute.”

“Okay,” Steve says, his voice soft and soon Eddie feels delicate fingers brushing his bangs into position.

He probably looks a sight – knows that a decent chunk of his hair on the left side has been shaved off to make way for a scar he just can’t find all that metal despite what his friends say.

Eddie leans into Steve’s touch as he listens to him explain, “No hurry. Wayne has a bunch of paperwork to sign, anyway.”

He nods and begins snaking his arm around Steve’s middle. It takes a lot of effort when it comes to his left arm, but Eddie eventually manages to get both around Steve. He interlocks his fingers together, the weakened muscle strain now relieved as he rests his elbows (and a little too much body weight) on Steve’s hips.

Steve shuffles closer and Eddie uses what little strength he has to squeeze him tight – even if it’s only for a moment.

It’s good enough, he thinks. Might even be close perfect.

Like this, even with his barely recovering body, a less-than-romantic setting and a somewhat not entirely aligned angle, Eddie is warmed by the feeling of Steve’s heartbeat, strong and thumping in his chest against his own scarred cheek.

Steve shifts and Eddie soon feels a kiss being pressed to the top of his head.

“I’m taking you home now.”

Thump, thump.

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Don’t Chase the Dead

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Commonwealth Era post 11x24

Warnings: Typical TWD violence, descriptions of injuries

Summary: You and Daryl find yourselves in a battle for survival after the archer leads you into danger in a attempt to absolve him of his guilt.

Prompt: "Being in love is not a weakness, you know"

A/N: You can find the request from @alldevilsarehere90 here. Finally finished this beast! It really got away from me and I ended up moving all sorts of things around before I was even remotely happy with it. I’m sorry it took so long!

PSA: I think I should let it be known that (if you haven’t noticed) I really like to beat up on our boy. There’s just something about an injured Daryl that I love. Probably won’t veer from that anytime soon.

*gif is not mine

They were all dead. Every last one of the men that had murdered a young boy from the Commonwealth. Only you and Daryl were left standing. 

Metaphorically speaking. 

You stared at an arrow from the enemy’s quiver, inspecting it before letting it fall to the ground. 

“Ya know—whatcha gotta—do, Y/N.” 

You were already shaking your head before the first word had left Daryl’s bloody lips. The arrowhead in his left thigh was barbed. If you tried to pull it out, it would mercilessly tear through muscle and flesh, doing much more damage and leaving a wound that would bleed freely while requiring more than stitches. The one pull Daryl had given it was enough to put him on his ass. He was right, and that made you feel nauseous. 

“I don’t know if I can.” Your bottom lip quivered. Tears fell unchecked. Your own upper arm ached but the bullet had only managed a decent graze. “What if it hit an artery? What if I make it hit an artery?”

Daryl’s eyes scanned the area around you, always on guard. The man who had shot him had been dealt with quickly, the last of the enemies to have fallen by a bullet you fired. The shots would attract walkers. 

“Do you think you can walk if you lean on me?” You asked. Your voice raised slightly with a hint of hope. “We can get you back to the Commonwealth, to the hospital.”

“Y/N.” The archer was calm, tired. He laid his head back against the wall, looking down his nose at you. “Y’know I—l can’t.”

You cursed under your breath, staring at the protruding wooden shaft. Once again, he was right. Even if you bound the wound to the best of your ability, the likelihood of it shifting and tearing inside was tremendous. “Okay. We have to be fast. We can’t stay here much longer.” You undid your belt and looked around you for a safe place for when things inevitably went south. Pessimism or just simply acknowledging Dixon luck, it didn’t matter. There was a maintenance shed, door open. The probability of walkers inside was slim but not none. It’d do in a pinch though. 

Your flannel shirt would be used as a bandage after, so you peeled it off and tore off the sleeves, biting and pulling at the rest of it to form it into strips. “Can you turn onto your right side just a little?” You asked while wrapping a piece of the fabric around your arm. You used your teeth to aid in tying it off. 

Daryl nodded tiredly and angled himself onto his right hip. He could probably do this himself, honestly, but you were there and had a better view of the injury. Your biggest worry was the wood splintering or snapping, leaving the arrowhead inside. 

Using your knife, you cut the fabric around the point of entry as carefully as possible. It’s still oozing blood but nothing like it will be once the weapon is removed. Chewing on your lip, you go back to cutting, this time at the back of his thigh. Worry is gnawing at you relentlessly, your insides twisting. 

“I could break the shaft, make it easier for you to move. I think we could make it—”

“Gotta break—gotta break it anyway.” To emphasize his point, he leaned forward and wrapped a trembling hand around where the weapon entered his flesh. With what looked like the tiniest bit of effort and a pained grunt, he snapped the arrow and tossed the end somewhere in the darkness. His back thudded against the wall. “Just do it—or I’ll do it an’ ya can—head on back. I‘ll catch up.”

“I’m not leaving you! No way!” You snap. Daryl wasn’t thinking clearly. That much was obvious. Either from blood loss, exhaustion, or the guilt eating him up at the loss of that boy. Maybe all of the above. He hadn’t slept since he’d had to put down the reanimated corpse. He was supposed to be with the kid. He had promised to show him how to track and hunt. The archer had been called away to help elsewhere and the kid had angrily left the safety of the community. No one blamed Daryl except Daryl. 

Still, no one could ever make Daryl feel worse than he could himself, and you could do nothing without his compliance. 

“Fine.” You leaned toward him and held out your belt. “Bite down on this.” When he raised an eyebrow behind his curtain of hair, you sighed. “It’s gonna hurt, Daryl. There are probably already walkers and god knows what else headed for us. I’d rather not let them know exactly where we are.” His lip curled in distaste but opened his mouth and let you place the strap between his teeth. That man could be so stupidly stubborn sometimes. 

Your hand hovered over the arrow’s broken shaft. You knew there was no time to waste. You started counting down from three, more for yourself than him, and wrapped your hand around the arrow. Judging by how he remained silent, he knew that. When you hit one, you tightened your grip and pushed. Daryl went rigid, agonized sounds rushing out around the belt held so tightly between his teeth. 

You honestly hadn’t expected so much resistance, quick to conclude you must have been grazing the bone. “I know, I know,” you tried to soothe as you adjusted the angle. Daryl arched off the wall with a muffled shout. The arrow began to move again, soon breaking through the skin on the other side. You released a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding as the archer went boneless, the belt falling from his mouth so he could breathe through the pain with heavy pants. “The worst is over.” Flesh dangled from the barbs but it exited rather cleanly, and you were able to grab beneath the tip and pull it free. “Done. It’s out.” 

You’d have to stop and stitch him up once you were both a safe distance away. A piece of flannel was folded into a square and pressed over the back of his leg, quickly soaking through. With a muttered “shit,” you replaced it with another and one more on top of that one before managing to tie what used to be a sleeve around it. Just as you pulled it tight, you heard a branch snap and an all too familiar (yet no less terrifying) snarl. You had to bandage the top wound quickly and get the both of you out. “Hold this here.” You instructed when you pressed a square to the top of his thigh. Daryl didn’t move. “Daryl?” Maintaining pressure, you leaned forward to see his face. He had passed out. “Fuck!” 

Another growl. More shuffling steps. 

You hurried through wrapping the second one and shouldered your pack, leaning forward to urgently tap the archer’s cheek. “Daryl, wake up. Daryl!” He stirred but didn’t open his eyes. “We have to go. Now!” You stood when he still didn’t respond, wiping your bloody hands on your jeans. Looked like you’d be needing that maintenance shed after all. 

You could see them now, the group of undead bodies making their way toward you, their silhouettes barely visible in the moonlight. You gave a frustrated huff and moved up toward the wall, struggling to heave your archer into a sitting position so you could hook your hands under his arms. Daryl was a stout man, all lean muscle under his layers. Dragging him would not be an easy feat. 

“Anytime you wanna wake up and help, that’d be great!” You pulled and pulled, finally managing a few feet before the first walker was just too close. You had no options other than your gun. The shot was fired and the gun holstered just as quickly then you were back to dragging your partner. “If we make it through this, I’m going to kill you!” As if hearing your threat, Daryl groaned. You didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. Too many undead were lumbering toward you. “Are you with me?”

“Y/N?” The archer questioned groggily. 

“None other!” You grunted. His good leg kicked out to dislodge a walker from his boot, nearly throwing you off balance. “Welcome back to the land of the…somewhat living.” Some of his weight shifted away as he got his good leg up under him, using your hold under his arms to lever himself upright. “We’ve got to get to the shed. You’re still bleeding and—” 

It all seemed to happen in slow motion. You were pulled back and Daryl went down, unable to take his own weight so suddenly on the injured limb. Two walkers had grabbed hold of your pack, the only thing standing between you and grizzly death. And now there was nothing standing between Daryl and the same fate. You watched helplessly as you struggled against the rotted hands trying to get to your flesh. He had pulled his knife, making it upright to stab one skull before he’d tumble down, catch his breath, and do it again. 

“Y/N!”

With fierce determination, you pulled your own blade from the sheath on your thigh and slid your arms from the straps holding the bag to your back. One walker stumbled with the pack while the other grabbed your arm. You only let it get close enough to drive the knife into its temple. “Daryl!” Three walkers were closing in on him fast. 

“Y/N, get outta here!”

He couldn’t have possibly thought that was going to work. The corpse on your pack grabbed for your ankle but you kicked free and sprinted to Daryl, rounding in front of him to push one threat back and quickly stab it. You turned just in time for a walker’s teeth to close roughly with an audible click about two inches from your face. The shock lasted a mere heartbeat. You stabbed it in the eye and Daryl released his hold on the back of its tattered shirt. The archer tumbled forward gracelessly and you managed to catch him under one arm to keep him standing.

“I told ya to run!” He snapped. 

“The shed! Let’s move!” You ignored him and pulled him along with you. He was barely keeping up, stumbling to keep as much weight off the injured leg as he could manage. 

Walkers were coming from every side. You weren’t sure you’d make it before they reached you. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” Two were almost in front of the door. If they cut you off now, even a flawless dispatching would cost your window of opportunity to secure relative safety. 

The arm around Daryl’s waist tightened and you pulled him harder, nearly causing him to lose what little balance he was trying so hard to maintain. 

“Y/N.” He growled in a low, warning tone. 

You discarded the knife and pulled your gun to put a bullet in the forehead of the walker closest to the door. It was a close call but you managed to get you both to the entrance. There was no time for tenderness. You used your momentum to twist your body and practically throw the bowman into the darkness, hearing him crash into something inside that obviously tumbled down when he made contact. You continued the motion, spinning to back into the shed while pulling the door closed. You screamed in frustration when a rotted arm came through the last remaining space and prevented the latch from securing. 

You couldn’t take either hand away from the door, your weight being the only thing keeping the creature out. Within moments, more would join it and you would be overpowered. You released an angry howl and grabbed the handle, opening the door outward only to slam it closed on the decomposing limb. Once, twice. It took stepping forward into danger and throwing yourself nearly off your feet to snap off the arm and allow the door to close. 

There was no lock. You couldn’t see your hand right in front of your face. You couldn’t barricade the door when you couldn’t make out what objects were around you. It would have to wait. Regardless, you flinched when the sound of bodies hitting the outside of the shed rang through the small space. Switching gears in an instant, you replaced one fear with another. Daryl hadn’t made a sound since you had sent him sailing gracelessly into the unknown. 

“Daryl?” You kept your voice at a whisper. Agitating the walkers that had already pegged you as their next meal wouldn’t be smart. You walked with small steps, unable to see where you were going. You didn’t want to fall over something, especially if that something was your partner. There was no sound aside from your quiet footfalls. Frankly, it was unnerving. 

You had felt fear morphing into panic just as a hand wrapped around your ankle. Your first instinct was to kick out but you managed to hear the click of a zippo lighter opening followed by the familiar flicking that would ignite the flame. Daryl was slumped against a utility shelf, surrounded by a mess of jugs, tools, and empty storage bins. 

He looked tired. Sweaty and pale, but mostly just exhausted. You knelt beside him and took the lighter from his hand, sitting it close by on the concrete floor. “You alright?” You asked softly. His skin was clammy beneath your fingers when you stroked his cheek and brushed his hair away from his eyes. Rolling his head toward you, his expression screamed ‘did you really just ask me that?’ and you couldn’t help but wince. “Yeah, sorry about that.” He stared at you for a moment, almost as if he was deciding whether or not you were sincere. One corner of his mouth twitched upward so slightly that you would have missed it had you not been staring at him so intently. He finally grunted with a nod and let his head rest against a lower shelf, closing his eyes. 

Satisfied that your impromptu toss hadn’t caused him any further injuries, you slid the lighter a bit closer so you could take a look at his leg. It wasn’t good. The fabric was soaked through, dark droplets collecting steadily into a small puddle below his leg. Worry gnawed at your gut but you pushed it down in favor of taking action. “I’m gonna get you stitched up and we’ll figure out what to do from here.” He gave you a thumbs up, not bothering to open his eyes. 

You scooped up the lighter and turned to reach for your pack. Only—it wasn’t there. Where had you placed it? When you replayed the past fifteen minutes, you felt your stomach sink. 

You had left it behind. Beneath a walker. 

“Fuck.” You breathed the word out shakily, frozen to your spot on the floor. 

“What?” Daryl rasped from behind you. 

You still wore a frozen expression of horrifying realization when you twisted back to look at him. He raised his head, brow drawn inward, and repeated himself. 

“My pack. I left it out there—when I ran over to help you.” 

To your shock, he simply shrugged. “Don’t matter.” 

You gaped at him. “What do you mean it doesn’t matter?! Daryl, you’re bleeding!”

Another shrug. “Ain’t the first time, won’t be the last.”

“Daryl. Seriously.” You leveled him with a glare, but he waved you off and began pulling himself up with the aid of the shelves. “What’re you doing? Sit down!” You were really struggling with keeping quiet. The man had a stubborn streak a mile wide. 

“Can it, woman. M’fine.” He stumbled away from the safety of the shelf and grabbed onto the edge of a small table with a grunt, lips pressed into a thin line. 

You noticed, of course, and folded your arms over your chest. “That hurt, huh?” You deadpanned. He tossed a glare your way and, with a sigh, you approached and held up the lighter to start looking around the shed with him. There wasn’t much beyond some handheld tools, random hoses, containers, nuts, and bolts. There were no windows, no other way to escape. 

Fortunately, Carol knew you two had left and where you were going. She had asked to come along but you had shot her down. If only you had known the numbers you and Daryl would face on your own, not to mention the aftermath. Regardless, Carol would come looking. Eventually.

You both just had to survive until then. 

The likelihood of that was looking bleaker by the moment. Your provisions and medical supplies were outside, amidst about two dozen walkers. Not to mention, Daryl was steadily losing blood, leaving a small trail as he finished scouting the space for anything useful. You began to wonder if you had managed to nick the artery after all. 

“Okay, okay. We just need to think. We’ve made it out of worse situations.” You stood facing him, trying not to think about how fast he was breathing or how the pallor to his skin resembled the undead just outside the door. 

“Ya shoulda run. Told ya to run.” Daryl stated quietly, not looking at you. “Ya know damn well—”

“You know damn well I’d never leave you behind! Not now, not ever!”

“Y/N.” His eyes were shimmering with moisture and you could clearly see the flame reflected there. You gave him a small but genuine smile. You would absolutely give your life for Daryl. You knew he would do the same for you. He almost had more than once. Your eyes followed his hand, calloused fingertips whispering down your jaw. You leaned into his touch and closed your eyes. If you did die tonight, at least you’d be with the man you loved.

You opened your eyes when his hand fell away, ready to keep showering him with affection. Your smile faltered. He was staring at you, face taut with fear. “Daryl?” Just as you took another step closer, his eyes rolled back and he dropped. You abandoned the lighter in favor of catching him, arms hooking beneath his. You couldn’t hold his sudden weight but you managed to slow his descent. “Daryl? Daryl?!” You ended on your hip with his upper body against your torso and his head tucked under your chin. It was a struggle but you managed to turn and sit against the shelf. He was still pressed tightly against you, and you had no intention of letting go. Your tears flowed freely now, one hand moving constantly: stroking his hair, touching his face, checking his pulse, fisting his vest. 

You flinched violently when the door rattled and you heard shards of debris rain onto the concrete. They would flood into the shed any minute. You pulled Daryl’s second knife from its sheath on his belt. Your gun had been lost in your battle to seal the door. 

Cradling him even tighter, you pressed your face into his temple and sobbed. “I love you. No matter what happens, you have to know that.” 

Moments passed, the pounding on the door became more pronounced as the lighter’s flame began to diminish. You could see moonlight and shadows through the areas of the door that had given way under the assault. You could only watch as the door began to buckle. When it seemed as if they would finally break through, you pressed a kiss to Daryl’s forehead and maneuvered from underneath his body, gently lowering him to the floor. 

You were beyond exhausted. Your own injuries were singing with pain. Still, you would put down as many of the fuckers as humanly possible, ready to die before you’d let a single rotten finger touch him. Knife poised to attack, you shifted from foot to foot, readying yourself. The flame went out. 

“HEY!”

You froze at the very human, very alive shout from outside, your tear-filled eyes wide and unblinking. The pounding on the door lessened before stopping completely. 

“TAKE COVER IN THERE!”

You didn’t hesitate to drop the knife and throw yourself over Daryl just as an explosion sounded from just outside. The small shed trembled fiercely for a matter of seconds before everything went still and quiet. Breathing heavily, you raised your head. The door was hanging by one hinge, ready to collapse. Smoke and dust was filtering in and blocked any view of the scene outside. 

A silhouette began to take shape as it approached. Daryl’s knife was back in your hand within a heartbeat and you crouched in front of the still unconscious man, ready to defend him. Your eyes narrowed. 

“Y/N?”

The knife clattered to the ground. “Carol?” Your voice broke on the second syllable, hope seeping into your chest and making you dizzy. 

The silver-haired woman stepped through the doorway, a large gun in hand. She released the barrel and let the strap take the weight so she could pull a flashlight from her belt. More shadows were scurrying about through the smoke behind her. You shielded your eyes as the light found you, falling back onto your ass with a broken laugh of pure relief. 

“He okay? What happened?”

Carol crossed the distance and sat the gun aside, placing a cool hand on your cheek while she looked you over critically. 

“We’ve had a shitty day.”

Your thumb was tracing circles over the back of Daryl’s hand, your eyes following the movements. It had been roughly 13 hours since the grenade had rattled the small shed and Carol had been your savior, along with some volunteers she had rallied up. They had brought medical supplies but you chose to use what you had in your pack. Daryl was going to be thrilled. 

He had remained unconscious while you stitched his leg and while the volunteers helped get him onto a horse. You didn’t feel safe riding with him draped across the animal’s back and chose to ride behind him on the saddle. He was leaning heavily against you, head lolling side to side on your shoulder, and your back ached by the time you and Carol had arrived home to the Commonwealth. He had been restless in his state, saying your name several times in a voice laced with pain and confusion. Each time, you had answered and the arm you had wrapped around his middle had gently tightened. He never responded. 

The men who had traveled back with you carried Daryl into the hospital and he was whisked away on a stretcher. You didn’t like the idea of not going with him but the nurse had insisted that you needed care as well. You sat quietly while your arm was stitched, mind wandering to what would have happened had Carol not shown up when she did. You shook the thoughts from your mind before a devastating conclusion could form images behind your eyes. 

Carol had stayed for a while before offering promises of bringing some food by later and then heading to her home to sleep, leaving you alone with Daryl. The silence was daunting. 

Glancing up, you watched the drops of antibiotics and fluids drip from the bags hanging on the pole. Tomi had promised Daryl would make a full recovery but insisted he stay for at least two days to ensure there was no infection. You did not want to be the one to break that news to him. 

You narrowed your eyes when you were almost certain you could hear the small droplets hit the collection in the mechanism that fed the medication into Daryl’s IV. God, you were tired. You wanted, in the worst way, to crawl onto the bed with him and sleep for days. Yet, you remained in your chair at his bedside, slouching down to lay your head next to his hand that you were still holding. 

You had no more than closed your eyes when Daryl began to come around with a quiet moan. Standing so quickly caused the room to spin but you didn’t care. The archer’s eyes were closed tightly, brow creased. Tomi would need to give him something for the pain, probably. He’d have to be quick and sneaky, otherwise Daryl would refuse it. He always refused anything that could be used by someone else to better their lives for even a moment, at the expense of his wellbeing. Luckily, you and Carol were around to make sure he somehow managed to stay healthy. He didn’t make it easy for you. The previous night had been proof of that. 

After just a few moments, he relaxed a little and his eyes began to flutter open. You leaned in further so you would be one of the first things he saw and gave his hand a squeeze. His tired gaze settled on your face and his fingers briefly tightened around your hand.

“Welcome back, Dixon.” You smiled while your free hand began to smooth back his hair, soft and gentle sweeps of your palm that you thought for a moment might coax him back to sleep. 

“Hi.” He croaked, expression pinching up in discomfort. A cup of water was at his lips a moment later. Given the position of the bed, he didn’t need to raise his head far to accept a few swallows, but you put your hand behind his neck to support him anyway. When he turned his head away slightly, you placed the cup on the bedside table. Daryl cleared his throat and tried again. “Ya alrigh’?”

You laughed at the ridiculous question. Of course he had nearly bled to death and was worried about you when he woke up. “I’m fine. I’m not the one laid up in the hospital.” It was a joke and he knew it, if the feeble scoff he gave was any indication. 

“How’d we get back?” He still sounded so, so tired but you’d take tired and awake over sitting by his deathly still form any day. 

“Carol.” You didn’t have to say anything else. The man nodded gingerly and closed his eyes. You stayed quiet for several minutes, back to petting his hair. While he was relaxed under your ministrations, he was not sleeping. “Daryl, we need to talk about what happened.” He didn’t open his eyes right away but released a deep sigh. “We should have waited to go after those guys when a group had been designated. Instead, I was chasing you, running off all half-cocked.” You waited and finally his eyes opened. He didn’t look at you, and you knew then that, while he felt bad about it, he was aware you were right. He stared at a point between the wall and the ceiling, stubbornly refusing to engage in the conversation. It was your turn to sigh. “Daryl, why didn’t you wait?” You pressed. The answer was one you knew already, but you needed him to be willing to talk about it. 

“Kid was s’posed ta be with me, Y/N.” He finally said. “Them parents ain’t got their kid no more cause I didn’t protect him.” There was a sadness in his eyes that broke your heart. It was still a wonder to you how that brash, rude redneck you met at the quarry all those years ago transformed into the man in front of you. Still sometimes rude, but with the biggest heart of any man you’d ever known. He had opened himself up and allowed himself to love and to be loved, though it didn’t come without cost. Allowing himself to feel so deeply also made him a slave to more negative feelings. He held onto those tightly and let them punish him, beat him down. 

You leaned over him to press a kiss to his forehead, the action drawing his gaze to yours. “Listen to me, Daryl Dixon.” Your hand gently pressed on the side of his face. “That guilt isn’t yours to carry.” When he opened his mouth, your hand moved to press a finger to his lips. You shook your head. “It’s not. There’s no one to blame here except the kid and those men. He chose to leave the community that day and that was a mistake he was old enough to know better than to make, but it was those men that made the choice to end his life. That’s not on you. Do you hear me?” 

He was mulling it all over, looking away from you. You weren’t naive enough to think that this conversation could change the way he processed emotions, but perhaps over time, with enough love and reminders, he would stop shouldering so much shit alone. 

“Ya still should’a run when I told ya. That’s gonna getcha killed one day.” 

“Why do you do that?” You twisted to sit on the edge of the bed, next to his hip. 

“Do what?” Daryl grimaced, probably from pain, but his expression smoothed out quickly. 

“Act like you shouldn’t be important to me. Like I shouldn’t make you a priority.” You waited for him to look at you. You wanted him to see your sincerity. “Being in love is not a weakness, you know. You’re everything to me, Daryl. You make me want to fight, to survive. If it takes me dying to keep you alive then it’s worth it.”

“S’not.” 

“It is. You are.” When he looked away, you leaned over to cup his cheek and turn his head to face you again. The emotions you saw there made your heart clench. “You are worth it. You will always be worth it, Daryl.”

His Adam's Apple bobbed when he swallowed, eyes looking back and forth between yours. “M’s’posed to watch out for ya.”

You shook your head. “You and me. This. Us. We’re a team. We watch out for each other.” His lip quivered so slightly that you almost missed it but you chose to leave it be. “That’s the deal, Dixon. You’re never getting rid of me.” A tear slid down your cheek. You hadn’t even realized you had started to cry. Daryl pulled away the hand you had never released and reached to wipe away the moisture with his thumb before wrapping his fingers around the side of your neck to pull you down. 

It wasn’t your first kiss but like every one before it, it stole your breath. His lips moved against yours softly while he raised his hand from your neck to place it back against your cheek. Too soon, the moment ended and you sniffled away anymore tears while your forehead rested against his. 

“M’okay with that.” He said quietly. “Not gettin’ ridda ya.”

You noticed the hint of a smile when you laughed. “You may change your mind about that when you see the hot pink thread I used to stitch up your thigh.”

Daryl rolled his eyes and pulled you down for another kiss. “Yeah, might want a refund after all.” 

[stealeroflemons]

eah thing but make it FASHION aka met gala themed but I'm sunburnt and only half awake right now #30 (PART I)

SURPRISE! I'm alive and well. Mostly. I'm getting ready to leave for university so I am tireeeeed. Anyways. I know there was a lot of controversy around the met gala and that I'm extremely late in doing this, but I do want to make this post to still add some ever after high fun and to also have some fashion fun with the help of Pinterest. The theme is (with great consideration of your suggestions and of my own deliberation) "Hans Christian Dior: A Spellelebration of Fable-ous Fashion"

This mainly came from research on past met gala themed and how quite a few of them are themes after specific fashion houses or designers AND from the Thronecoming special (which is PEAK fashion in the series besides Way Too Wonderland and Spring Unsprung) where Cedar calls out Duchess for wearing a fake Hans Christian Dior dress! (note, I am trying to mainly use Christian Dior gowns/outfits for this because of the reference in Thronecoming also sorry for the blurriness)

Briar is THAT GIRL. She is flushed in hot pink looking gorgeous with about every inch of her glittering with body shimmer, glitter hairspray, and shiny shiny jewels. I like to think that instead of the gold detailing in the pictures it would be silver and that the closer embellishments would be rose detailing to honor her usual aesthetic and legacy

Faybelle is serving every bit of whimsy and darkness. Her accessories and the layers of her dress and even her hair seem to be alive with lightning crackling around. Her wings are extra pretty and equally terrifying with silver thorn adornments that are magically light enough to not weigh her down

Ashlynn's look was partially inspired by Lady Tremaine's silhouettes in the lie action Cinderella while still maintaining the color palette of her usual outfits. Her look combines the beauty of the enchanted forest and foliage and the classy, fine china patterns you'd see in a royal palace. She is absolutely radiant and of course while walking up the steps of the Met, she loses a slipper ;)

Duchess has taken a slightly different approach to her usual fluffy-tulle outfits and gone for more of a paper swan look. The sharp angles provide a dangerous look to her, contrasting the soft purple accents and the feather headpieces she wears. She seems to float on air and she walks through the crowds of people in her gown, a true picture of elegance and grace with a touch of darkness to her

The one and only Apple White is DRAMATIC. HUGE HAIR. BOLD RED MAKEUP. EXTREME DRESS SILHOUETTE. THE MOST ROYAL JEWELRY YOU CAN FIND. She looks like something out of an editorial magazine on royalty. This entire look is a more elevated look of her daily wear, and she wears it with grace and sophistication

Darling looks so DARLING! I do think the gold on the dress would be swapped out for silver and that the pearls would be more pink-y toned so it would match the jewels in your basic outfit (same with other accessories). She's sticking with the sort of rococo hair that she usually has because it's iconic let's be honest. I was debating on giving her a more armored look but for this I wanted to embrace her softer and delicate look

Rosabella looks like a French aristocrat from an old Hollywood movie in my mind for an event like this. Nevertheless any fur details are faux, after all our girl is still an animal activist (slay queen). I think the dusty gold-brown tone of the dress with the deep red accents and jewelry pays a nice homage to not only her day to day look but to Belle's iconic yellow dress. I also feel like her and Briar would contrast well because Briar is very bright and vibrant in her look and Rosabella is more muted and understated which I like a lot

anways I'll make a part 2 eventually, I have all the collages made I just need to create a post and write descriptions. But for now I'm gonna go back to packing and planning for uni and I'll get back to y'all when I can (and hopefully my fanfictions, who now haunt me in my dreams)

[silverofthunder]

☆ hold me close (for the minute) ☆

Copia x GN Reader

summary: ”I just want to be with you a minute or two longer.”

content: 853 words, hurt/comfort, established relationship, SFW

!! contains some spoilers of Rite Here Rite Now !!

Okay, so I saw RHRN and heard the new song (still listening to it on repeat) and here I am. I knew I would get inspired but writing flow hasn't been working that well lately. I actually wanted to throw this piece into the bin but maybe this isn't that bad anyway... 😊

You had felt off for the whole day and you weren’t sure why. It felt like the weight of the whole world was resting on your shoulders and your chest had that unpleasant tight feeling. You felt like you could break at any moment – you wanted to cry and scream but instead you just fulfilled your work duties as you would do any other day.

Your smile definitely wasn’t that bright and if anyone noticed, they certainly didn’t say anything and you were grateful for that. The hours passed slowly but as soon as you were free from your duties, you went to your and Copia’s shared chambers, finding the man sitting on the bed. His eyes found you immediately, a small smile tucking at his lips but you could see that it didn’t reach his eyes and sense the slight tension in the air.

”Shouldn’t you be working?” you asked, walking over to Copia.

”Sí but it can wait for a moment,” Copia said, reaching to take your hand in his, his eyes full of concern as he rubbed his thumb over your knuckles.

The feeling in your heart got tighter. Something was not right, you were sure of it. With a sigh you sat beside him, your body angled towards his. He squeezed your hand, gaze studying you closely and eventually you had to move your own gaze away as the concern in his eyes was too much to bear, the realization sinking in. Copia had always been able to read you like you were an open book. He knew that something was bothering you.

”Amore,” he said softly, quietly, and you swallowed, feeling the tears already burning in your eyes. Copia’s other hand came to rest on shoulder, then sliding under you jaw, taking a gentle hold of it and making you look at him.

”Whatever it is, it’s okay,” he said, and you drew in a sharp breath, shaking your head.

”The problem is that I don’t know why I feel like this,” you said frustrated. ”The whole day has been just…” You weren’t able to finish the sentence as the tears started to flow. Everything you had kept in, erupted at once and in the next moment Copia wrapped his arms around you, closing you into a tight embrace as the force of sobbing shook your body.

”It’s okay,” Copia spoke, pressing a light kiss on your head while drawing some soothing patterns on your back with his hand. You clung onto him, your fists holding his suit jacket so tight it would probably leave some wrinkles behind.

Time seemed to stop as you let it all out, focusing on the soft voice of Copia as he whispered comforting words to you. The heavy world around you seemed to disappear and it was only you and him. The tightness in your chest was fading and you felt like you could breathe again but you wanted to linger in the moment for a bit longer.

It had been so busy lately and maybe some changes had affected you more than you had thought but there was one thing that hadn’t changed. The core of everything – your love for Copia. The world around you could have been on fire yet that wouldn’t change it. Nothing would ever change it.

You let out a long sigh, finally pulling back from the embrace and wiped the tears that were still left on your cheeks. Copia cupped your face, his gaze meeting yours, all soft and loving.

”Feeling better?”

You nodded, offering a small smile to Copia.

”Yes.”

Copia looked happy with that and a moment of silence fell between you. Your eyes fell down, seeing the wet patch on the front of the suit jacket and you made a face at that.

”Sorry about that,” you said, pointing at the suit and Copia just brushed it off.

”Nah, it’s fine. Won’t ruin the suit.”

You hummed, taking in the suit. It was different than usual but you had to admit Copia looked so good in it.

”My handsome man,” you said smiling, moving your hands to run your fingers over the fabric and Copia let out a light chuckle, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs.

”My beautiful amore,” he said softly and leaned in to capture your lips in a brief, sweet kiss. ”You should rest now.”

Something tucked at your chest and you took a hold of Copia’s arms just as he was about to stand up.

”Do you have to go? I don’t want to be alone now.”

A line of worry formed onto Copia’s forehead and you knew what he was thinking.

”I feel better but right now I just want to be with you a minute or two longer.”

Understanding filled Copia’s eyes and he nodded, moving into a better position on the bed and opened his arms. You didn’t waste time as you crawled close to him, placing yourself comfortably into his embrace. You sighed and closed your eyes, focusing on the moment.

This was just what you needed right now – to be content in his arms.

[honeytwrites]

Kinktober Day 1

Kyle Garrick x Reader- Free Use

Weekends like this are your favorite.

You’re a day and a half into your four day weekend, and so far, it’s pure bliss. You’d gotten a text message about 10:30pm on Friday night that had set you simultaneously on fire and your nerves alight. Finishing up on base, babes. Be home late. Can’t wait to spend the next three days with you. G’night, Mrs. Garrick.

You’d not been asleep like he’d expected, instead you were air drying on the bed after a very thorough everything shower, the latest kinky novel making rounds in the unofficial 141 Birds Book Club clutched tightly in your hands. That singular text had set this entire weekend into motion. You had spent more time as Mrs. Garrick alone in your flat in London than you’d spent with your husband, and frankly, you were a little needy for him.

So when you woke up Saturday morning, with Kyle peacefully snoring beside you, arms thrown askew, you’d put on the dress , known on the internet as a milkmaid dress, and continued along with your morning routine. The dress was the predetermined cue for Kyle that you were his today, to use in any way he so freely pleased. After 24 hours the ‘dress pass’ expired and playtime was over, unless safewords were used. While it was rare you played this way, you knew Kyle would be ready to go when he saw the opportunity awarded to him.

And your man cashed in. When he’d finally woke up about 10 am, he’d walked in, took one look at you in that dress and had you sucking his cock while you tried to beat your best friend’s guesses in wordle. He’d then fucked you against the side of the couch during a re-run of one of the football matches you’d recorded for him while he was gone.

“Fuck yes,” he moans, bringing you out of your stupor. His hand grips the back of your neck where you’re currently bent over the kitchen counter, dinner prep forgotten after he’d stumbled out of the shower after a nap and your last round and saw you in the dress, a picture of domesticity as you rough chopped veggies for the stew you had planned to make for dinner. You both moan as he slides in, enough of your own slick mixed with his cum coating the way.

“Fucking tits look amazing,” he says, grabbing one roughly through the fabric and squeezing, “all domestic and shit. Laid out for the fucking taking today, aren’t ya, babes? Already soaking wet and I ain’t even touched ya yet. Knowing you’re free for me to use just gets you fucking soaked, don’t it?”

You can’t even answer, too busy gasping at the stretch of his cock. Doesn’t matter how many times you take him, just this side of pleasure burn still makes your toes curl and eyes roll back. He’s right and he knows it. You enjoy being his free use toy just as much as he enjoys fucking you whenver he pleases. You know he isn’t expecting an answer, he already can tell by the way you are dripping down your thighs, but he smacks your ass anyway, the sting bringing you back to the present.

He braces one hand on the counter and slides the other around the front of your throat, gently pulling you to standing so he can pay more attention to your tits spilling from the front of your dress. He paws at the laces until the corset comes undone, deft fingers finding a nipple and pinching it until you’re arching both closer and away at the same time.

“Ya gonna answer me, baby? Or are you already too cock drunk to think straight?” He asks while angling himself in a way that makes him hit that spongy spot at the front of your cunt that has you crying out.

He keeps pistoning himself in and out of your body, chasing his own release, not really caring if you’ve come or not. You did earlier, bent over the couch, his hand around your throat and pinching your nipple, but you know that’s not the goal here. You’ll get the princess treatment tomorrow, which both excites and terrifies you. You find yourself slipping into that floaty headspace, eyes rolling back as you float away into that place where everything has a saccharine edge. This is why these weekends are your favorite. You’re able to switch off your brain and know that Kyle’s got you. You’ve got one purpose, and as he pistons his frankly ridiculously pretty cock in and out of you, you’re fulfilling it.

You’re not even aware of it when he comes, too deep into your headspace to really recognize it. You come to in the bath, your back to his chest as you relax in the water.

“Did so good for me today, love. Thank you.” He rasps, placing a tender kiss on your shoulder. It would throw you, the juxtaposition between his sweet kisses and the brutal way he’d used your body today, if you didn’t know this was your Kyle.

“Love you,” you mutter, sinking down deeper into the bubbles. “Just you wait, love. Gonna give that sweet cunt a day to recover and then I’m going to get reacquainted with ‘er.” He promises, hand sliding down your body with a washcloth he’d soaped up somewhere and begins cleaning you gently.

“You haven’t done that already?” you ask incredulously through your exhaustion. You feel his grin against your shoulder and throw your head back with a groan.

His laughter reverberating off the bathroom tiles is his only answer.