#because two are gonna be 2k-ish

[banggyu0308]

so... if you got four fics for yeonjun's birthday... one a little early for millie's event... is that a yes or a no?

[kitkat13001]

₊˚⊹♡⭒˚.⋆ 𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚗𝚘𝚠 ?

i try to be the chill girl but honestly i’m not knee deep in the passenger seat (and you’re eating me out) two weeks and your mom invites me (to her long beach house) is it casual now?

⤷ katsuki bakugou x reader

⤷ fem-leaning reader (“girl” used twice, no other pronouns), friends w benefits-ish to lovers, reader is bad at feelings, brief mention (1) of underage drinking, heavily implied reader and bakugou are sleeping together but nothing explicit, lyrics and title from chappell roan’s “casual,” this is long (~2k words)

for three months it’s been like this. three months of sneaking around and shared glances and private smiles and near-silent laughter at one in the morning. 

it started one night towards the end of winter, just before the beginnings of spring. 

you had just finished up a big practical exam and the class had come in first. you’d worked your asses off and it had been totally worth it. everyone felt like they were walking on air that night, and you’d all decided to get together for a late dinner in the dorms to celebrate. 

you remember it clearly. the valentines decorations were still up in the lounge. you’d ordered pizza to supplement sato’s delicious noodle arrangement and bakugou’s yakitori, and stayed up well past curfew talking and eating and laughing. it was one of the best nights of your life. 

you’d gone to the bathroom, but when you came back to the lounge everyone had already gone up to bed. 

“guess the party’s over,” you’d mumbled to yourself with a little laugh of disbelief. 

“oi!” had come a voice from the kitchen. “who’s out there?!”

“guess,” you’d called out teasingly, leaning against the doorframe. 

bakugou wore his trademark scowl, same as ever. he was standing over the sink, hands covered in suds amidst a pile of dishes. 

“hmph. the hell you doing up, dumbass? figured you’d gone to bed after you disappeared on us.”

“hm. three years and you think you’d come up with a better nickname,” you laughed. “i told denki i was going to the bathroom. something in those noodles did a number on me.”

he had scoffed, seemingly irritated by your overshare. you didn’t care. you were never one to withhold anything and he knew that. 

“whatever. everyone’s asleep already anyway.”

“what are you doing up, kacchan?”

he’d scowled at that, but said nothing. he had long since given up trying to dissuade you from using the nickname. he nodded to the pile of dishes in the sink before him. 

“damn extras left a mess. said we’d pick up in the morning but i can’t sleep with this fuckin’ mess.”

you had laughed at that. he fixed you with a withering glare. 

“what’s so fuckin’ funny?”

“what a mouth,” you snickered. “you never change, do you, kacchan?”

he’d scoffed, scrubbing agitatedly at a plate. “i change plenty.”

you just laughed again. you guessed he was right, because three years ago he never would’ve been caught dead up this late. 

“you gonna help me with this or what?” he demanded, gesturing to the mess of the kitchen. 

you’d shrugged, figuring it would’ve been cruel to leave him to face this alone. 

“i guess so. you wash, i dry?”

he replied with a soft grunt of affirmation. 

it was peaceful that night, standing shoulder to shoulder with bakugou as he handed off soaked dishes for you to wipe down. you took comfort in the warm brush of his hands against yours. 

and the fateful moment that led to all of this?

he’d fumbled a dish, the mug slipping from his soap-slicked grip. you had gone to catch it, reaching over at the exact same time he did. 

you remember the brief pain of your heads colliding and bakugou’s proceeding shout. 

you had grabbed his shoulders for support, and you remember being surprised by how warm he was. it’s not like you’d never touched him before, but the number of times you’d ever been this close to him was minuscule. 

he might’ve been mad, probably about to open his mouth to berate you about how he’d “had it!” and that you “should’ve left it” or something. but he stopped cold, eyes wide at just how close you were. barely an inch between your noses. you could smell the spices on him from when he’d been cooking earlier. 

you don’t know what led you to say it. maybe it was the late hour or the obscene amount of food you’d eaten or the wine cooler you’d allowed yourself to drink after mina had brought them out. 

“can i kiss you?”

you think bakugou might’ve been more surprised by that than if you’d socked him in the face. 

you don’t know why he did, but he had nodded. he thought about it for a second—just one, not too long—and then given the slightest incline of his head. and you did it. 

you kissed him. 

it wasn’t your first kiss. if it was his, you couldn’t tell. he was soft, responsive to your movements but still sure of himself when he kissed you back. 

he tasted vaguely of spices. 

you don’t know how long you stayed like that. you don’t know at what point his hands moved from the sink to your cheeks or when he’d backed you against the counter. 

you just know that when he’d asked if you wanted to go up to his room, you nodded with flushed cheeks and a breathless smile. 

and that’s how it’s been for three months. you’d never addressed it, never put a name to what you had. you’d never questioned it or taken it for granted. bakugou is the kind of person you can follow blindly into any situation and know you’re going to come out okay. and you’ve never been someone who needed a reason to be around people you like. 

tonight’s not much different. it’s quiet, a cool breeze in the air from the open window. the nights are getting warmer as spring sets in, so the breeze feels good on your skin. 

you lay back on bakugou’s bed, breathing in the smell of his ocean breeze laundry detergent and the faint scent of the almost-blooming cherry blossoms just outside.

he didn’t used to let you stay over. he’d walk you back to your dorm once everyone was asleep, grumble a goodnight and disappear back down the hall. but after a while, he stopped mentioning how late it was getting. he’d just toss over and fall asleep, his arm still resting across your body next to him. 

“what’re ya sighing for?” bakugou huffs, reaching over you to plug his phone into the charging outlet. 

“i’m not sighing,” you reply, frowning up at the ceiling. 

“and now you’re pouting.”

you huff back at him, propping yourself up on your elbows. “i am not pouting. i’m eighteen years old, i don’t pout.”

katsuki raises his eyebrows in challenge. “you want me to get you a mirror?”

you roll your eyes and toss a pillow at him. he catches it just the way you expect him to, right in front of his face. you strike quicker than he can move it, smacking the front with a palm. you laugh at his startled growl, falling back on the bed as he throws the pillow back your way. 

you smile innocently up at him, clutching the pillow to your chest and relish in the scowl he casts at you and the way his hair is tousled from the scuffle. 

“brat,” he scoffs, knocking his leg against yours. “c’mon, it’s late. i wanna sleep.”

he waits until you’ve crawled in beside him to turn out the lights. 

you stare out into the dark for a while, but sleep doesn’t come. 

“katsuki?” 

his responding groan in muffled into the pillow. you prop yourself up to turn and look at him. 

“can i ask you something?” 

you see his scarlet eyes open in the dark and glance up at you with a furrowed brow. 

he huffs as he rolls over to face you. “i guess.”

now you’re nervous. god, why did you have to bring it up?

“i don’t want to sound stupid or anything, but i…” you pause, trying to figure out how to phrase it. “what are we? i mean, like…to each other?”

it’s both a relief and an immense amount of anxiety finally getting the words out. “it’s been eating at me for a while now—and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to—but i figured i’d die if i didn’t at least ask.”

katsuki’s looking right at you, but for once you can’t read his eyes or expression. the silence is stretching and your stomach turns with unease. you keep talking, and even though you know you’re rambling, your mouth is like a runaway train. 

“i mean, to my knowledge at least, you don’t sleep around, right? we don’t see other people. and you’re not…you’re not completely detached when we’re together—at least i hope you aren’t. you don’t act like it anyways. so it seems like it’s more than a physical thing?”

god, why can’t you stop talking? it’s more to yourself than katsuki at this point anyway. 

“and we’re friends. we’ve been friends for such a long time now. it’s not like i’m some random girl you picked up off the street.”

he scoffs quietly and you glance over at him. his expression is pinched, but otherwise unreadable. “tch. i wouldn’t do that.”

“exactly,” you agree, trying to keep your voice even as you fidget with your hands. your voice is quiet and you hang your head a little, unable to face his deep eyes. “i…know you care about me. so i guess that’s why i’m asking what this is to you.” you start rambling again before the silence gets too long. “are we just friends who mess around sometimes? is it that you’re not ready for a relationship…or maybe you do want a relationship but just not with me?”

“do you want a relationship?” he asks. 

“i…i don’t know. maybe, if that’s what you wanted.”

“what do you want?”

“i mean, we don’t have to put a label on anything if you don’t want to. unless you do want to, then i guess we could do that too.” the options are flooding your brain, mouth going off without filter. 

“what do you want?” katsuki asks again, red eyes boring into yours in the dark. 

you shrink back, feeling small under his unwavering gaze. “i…i don’t know.”

he scoffs. “liar.”

your heart sinks a little. 

“what do you mean?”

“you know what i mean,” he replies, and you can hear the frustration in his voice. “you’re not the ‘whatever you want’ girl. you never have been.”

you know he’s right, but that doesn’t make it less painful to hear. normally that kind of tenacity is what people strive for, what people admire. but the way katsuki says it…he makes it sound like a bad thing. like you’re selfish. 

“so tell me,” he insists, face mere inches from yours. “why don’t you care what we are?”

“because i care about you,” you whisper, almost against your will. “and i want you to be happy, so i’ll take you in whatever capacity i can get you.”

he looks almost surprised at that, then slightly exasperated like you’ve missed his entire point. he exhales sharply, sitting back against the headboard. 

“before i answer you, lemme ask you something myself first.”

“okay,” you breathe. 

“why the sudden need to know?”

“huh?”

“you said this shit’s been eating at you for a while now. how come? what’s got you feeling all contemplative all of a sudden?”

it takes a minute to gather your thoughts, much less the courage to speak. you hadn’t been expecting him to turn this on you. 

“well…we’re graduating in a few weeks, and i guess i just…i don’t want to never see you again. i don’t want this to end. and i…” you pause, taking a shaky breath, then shrug. “i don’t want to lose you, kacchan.”

he’s staring now in what you can only describe as disbelief. your stomach stirs uneasily as you sit in silence for a moment. 

“you don’t want to lose me,” he repeats, like its the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. “that’s it?”

“yes, that’s it,” you reply, suddenly defensive. you cross your arms, feeling incredibly self-conscious now. 

“and you think i’m what, just gonna up and leave you? don’t you give a fuck about us?” he demands. 

“i didn’t know there was an ‘us’!” you cry. “i didn’t know it meant anything to you.”

“of course it fuckin’ meant something!” katsuki shoots back, on the verge of a shout. 

“i stayed with you the entire time you had the flu in second year. i let you come with me to the gym. we did our work studies together. i make you food when you’re stupid and don’t eat, i let you come in my room whenever you want and sleep in my fuckin’ bed when you have a bad dream.”

you sit there for a moment, absorbing it all. it’s true, all of it. 

“i don’t do that shit for just anyone,” he adds, grumbling. and he’s right. he doesn’t. “so don’t you for one minute think that you don’t mean anything to me. why else would i be spending all this damn time with you?”

“i don’t know,” you hum, crawling over to him. “maybe you did it cause all our other friends were getting together and you felt left out.”

“when have i ever done something just because some other fuckin’ extra did too?”

“never,” you giggle, leaning against him until you’ve fallen into his lap.

“exactly. so what does that tell you?”

“that…you’re very brave and independent?”

he groans loudly, rolling his eyes. “you’re fuckin’ impossible.”

“you love it,” you beam up at him. your stomach flutters with something warmer now as he reaches down and brings you up to meet his lips. it’s a deep kiss, leaving no room for anything but him and you and saying everything that you never said up until now. 

“yeah, so what if i do?” he murmurs when he pulls away, still close enough that his lips brush yours when he speaks. 

“tell me,” you say, smile and voice soft as you push his spiky bangs away from his face. his cheeks are warm under your hands. “tell me for real this time.”

his ruby eyes are deep and sincere when he says it. 

“i love you.”

it’s all you ever needed to hear.

nothing like the pressure of finals to get you locked in on a fic. i’ve been sitting on this for a while and i finally got inspired to finish it. i really enjoyed the reader/bakugou dynamic here. hope you like!

[brewed-pangolin]

Drabble request for Super Soap Sunday:

Soap and you find yourselves in an unusual place/set of circumstances when the mood strikes. How does he A) let you know what he wants and B) how does he get you in the mood too?

Domestic Bliss

Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x Fem Reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI: Explicit smut, some fingering, P in V, backseat sex, slightly Dom-ish Soap, tons of dirty banter, Soap being a needy little horn dog

This 'drabble' turned into a one-shot because I can't control myself.

Synopsis: You and Soap take the next step in your relationship, and his not so subtle attempt to rile you up in public ends with an impromptu session in the parking lot.

Reference for where this man takes you to Poundtown here

Word count: 2k

"Alright, ma'am. If I can just you to sign here, here, and here. Then we should be all set up." Your advisor instructed as you sifted through yet another mountain of paperwork. Your eyes growing numb and your fingers beginning to ache from the repeated minor motion of signing your life away.

You pushed the last pile of paperwork over the advisors desk with gentle smile curling into your lips. Glancing over at the man sitting next to you with that same smile, a loving fondness in your eyes as you both took the next pivotal step in your relationship.

A mortgage.

Soap's demeanor was calm. Stoic even. Letting you take the lead in this circumstance as you were the one going to habitate the home more often than he would. A thought you both pushed aside for now to savor the wave of domestic bliss that came along after you signed the final piece of paperwork.

Yet his cool facade couldn't hide the cerulean maelstrom swirling within the whites of his eyes. A look you knew all too well, and one that never failed to send a quick shiver down your spine.

But here? At the bank?

Your smile quickly curled into a smirk, rolling your eyes at him as you turned your attention back to the advisor across the desk. You couldn't feed into Soap's growing needy desires. Not in public at least.

Pursing your lips with a heavy sigh, you tried to maintain your composure by focusing on the task at hand. Eyes trained to the quick movements of fingers across the keyboard as your consultant effortlessly entered your information into the database.

However, even the light clicking of keys couldn't keep your attention as you caught the sudden tremor of his knee in the lower periphery of your vision. The frantic cadence of his boot heel hitting the floor tearing at your concentration yet again, forcing you the bring the knuckles of your right hand up to your mouth to hide the apparent grin quickly forming on your lips.

With as subtle movement as possible, you placed your left hand on the top of his knee to quell his growing feverish motion. Gripping your fingers into the fabric of his jeans and pushing towards the floor in a physical attempt to ease his obviously heightening arousal.

“Ookay. That’s done. Let me get this all printed out and you two should be all set.” 

“Thank you, sir. Appreciate all your help with this.”

You share a quick glance with your advisor as he stands, his eyes momentarily shifting to Soap with a subtle curl in the corner of his mouth. You keep a close eye on him as he exits the office, finally turning to face Soap with a furrowed brow and address the apparent tension erupting between you two.

“Jesus Christ, Johnny. Would you please calm down?” You scolded playfully. Your lips a thin line of a smile, obscuring your clenched teeth as you dug your fingers further into his jeans.

“How much fuckin’ longer is this gonna take, bonnie? ‘Cause I'm 'bout to bend ya over this goddamn desk if he don't speed this shit up. He can bloody watch for all I care.” 

"We're almost done, Johnny. He just needs to give us the paperwork, and then we can go. So just, keep it in your pants for another five fuckin' minutes."

Your tone of reprimand barely able to combat the deep, rumbling brogue in his voice. Shifting slightly in your seat to quell the growing ache pulsing within your core. A gesture that most certainly did not go unnoticed as you took in the hungry blaze radiating within his eyes.

"Johnny. Don't. No!" Your frivolous attempt to stop him was broken down immediately as he thrusted his hand between your legs. Pressing his knuckles into the base of your heat through your jeans. Shifting to bring his chair closer and caress his mouth and tease you with his whispering brogue to the nape of your neck.

"Gonna fuckin' wreck ya, bonnie. Forget th'mortgage. This my down payment fer tha sweet pussy a'yers."

"Goddamit, MacTavish. Not here, ya fuckin' horn dog."

"Horn dog?" He questions with that distinctly mischievous grin. Pulling away as he eyed your advisor walking back into the office. His calmness in complete contrast to the excited flush bellowing from your chest as you quickly swat his hand away, scolding him quietly under your breath.

"Overconfident bastard."

"Alright. You two are all set up. You should be getting a call within the next five business days once you qualify. Other than that, welcome to home ownership."

"Thank you." You shook your advisor's hand, grabbed at your paperwork, and made an immediate bee line for the door. Beating Soap at his own game as you left him in the office with an obvious growing hard on. Already midway to the exit of the bank when you eyed him barreling out of the office in your periphery.

You didn't want to lose focus again. Not now. Now when you had the upper hand. You Kept your eyes locked onto the 4Runner at the back of the parking lot as your feet moved quickly at their own accord. Your ears perking to the sound of its alarm, a wave of triumph rolling over you as the locks sprung free.

You opened the backseat passenger door to toss your purse and paperwork on the seat. Expecting to see Soap at the driver side as you tried to close the door.

Tried.

You glanced questioningly at the door. Only then did you notice Soap's hand gripping on the edge. Spinning on your heels as you came face to face with a fiery blaze and a hungry look in his eyes.

"John?"

"Get in."

"John?!"

"GET IN!"

You felt his hands on your hips the moment his voice registered within your mind. Thrusting you into the back seat, an excitedly victorious giggle escaping your chest as he crawled in before slamming the door behind him.

"Yer such a fuckin' lit'le minx, y'know that? Leavin' me th're wit a full bloody stonner." He growled, pulling your shoes off and tossing them to the side, frantically moving to the front of your jeans as you continued to laugh in triumph at his feverish need.

"Makin' me do the goddamn walk o' shame and...why are these fuckin' buttons so goddamn small?!"

"Ooohhh, what happened to that cool confidence, Soap? Thought you could handle yourself under pressure. Bein' a demolitions expert an' all."

"Yer pushin' it, lass." He spat back. Relinquishing the fight with the buttons in favor of simply tearing your jeans off.

"M'also not tryin'a fuck tha bombs, smartass."

Soap tossed your garments to the back, flaring his nostrils with a darkened veil in his eyes as he spread your legs to take in the sight of your silken arousal. Moving onto his haunches with a deep inhale, his eyes rolling back as he took in the scent of your growing excitement.

“Mhmm. Could smell tha’ sweet pussy in th’re. An’ ya already so fuckin’ wet fer me, aren’t ya, bonnie?”

Words escaped you as he pushed two of his fingers inside your soaking heat, your eyes fluttering closed as he slowly pumped up to his knuckle, teasingly preparing you for what was to come. Unable to restrain your body’s reaction as your walls reflexively clenched around him.

“Donnae think I didn’t feel tha’. I know what ya need, lass. An’ m’gonna give it to ya.” Soap lured to you with a husky purr, your eyes fluttering open in response to take in the sight of him stroking himself through his jeans. His steely blue gaze boring into your soul as he effortlessly worked at the buckle of his belt. A throaty growl reverberating within him as he teasingly pushed the waist of his jeans below his hips to expose his painfully hardened cock.

"Johnny, I-" Your pleasured whimper was cut short as he throw his muscular frame on top of you, sealing his mouth over yours in a wet and desperately needy kiss. His strong hands gripping into the flesh of your thighs, guiding them around his waist as he teasingly pushed his throbbing erection into your moistened cunt. Filling you to the brim in one fluid thrust.

"Th's s'my home, bonnie. Right 'ere. B'tween yer legs an' deep in th's beautiful fuckin' pussy a 'yers."

Soap didn't give you time or air to respond as he encapsulated your mouth once more and immediately began pistoning himself into your core. The force of his thrusts wiping whatever thoughts and words out your mind, only focusing on the feel of him as he caged you against the backseat with his arms bent on either side of your head.

"Steamin' hell yer tight, lass." Soap growled into your lips, pressing his chest down into yours, keeping you still and allowing him full reign to pound his hardened length into your heat.

His bulbous tip kissing the flesh of your cervix with each forward thrust before pulling out almost entirely to only throw himself back into you once more. The continuous motion forcing your back to arch off the backseat, pushing your pelvis into his to stimulate the sensitive flesh of your clit.

Soap pulled his mouth away in repsonse to your shifting position, leaning forward to press his forehead into the crook of your neck. His hot breath cascading down your skin as he grunted and moaned with every subsequent thrust, his relentless pounding forcing you to grip into his shoulders to keep yourself stable beneath him.

"Johnny...Johnny..." you whispered softly against his temple. His name the only coherent word you could manage to let fall from your lips as your mind and body fell into the depths of his desperate and needy pleasure.

"Jus'...lemme 'ave th's, bonnie."

"Only g'nna need...an'ther minute.."

Soap's gasping breaths washed over the flesh of your neck, his voice rumbling within his throat like an otherworldly mixture of a growling whimper.

And the moment you felt his hips begin to falter, you pushed aisde your own pleasure in favor of reaching his. Only focusing on him. His needs. His desperate compulsion to always need to fill you and mark you as his own.

"C'mon, bonnie. Come for me."

You responded to his grunting demand by simply pressing your lips to the flesh of his temple. Wrapping your arms and legs around him tightly, letting him vigorously thrust his throbbing cock into your cunt until you felt the warmth of his release erupt deep inside you.

Soap's movements then halted all together. Burying himself into your heat as he rode out the relentless pulses of his climax.

Even within this impromptu moment, with him panting against your neck and you hunched beneath him in the backseat, there was always a certain level of intimacy that seemed to meld between you in the bliss of the afterglow. Cradling him in your arms as he slumped over in a limp and gasping mess.

"Fuckin hell, bonnie." He whispered, softly panting against your neck as he lightly pursed his lips against your neck.

"Jesus, Johnny. If I knew home ownership got ya this worked up, I'd it done years ago."

"Shut it, lass."

"Can't wait to see how hard ya get when I do my taxes."

Soap remained silent to your playful banter, responding only by continuing to kiss the curve of your neck as his body trembled, slowly coming down from the high of his release.

His mouth gently curled into a smile as he placed a series of gentle kisses up the nape of your neck. Chiding in once more to your jesting, his distinctive brogue thicker and more hoarse as he purred against your flesh.

"Won't 'ave ta, hen. Unless yer 'nta doin' a threesome."

"What?" You questioned, pulling him out of your neck to meet his steely blue gaze with a coitish smile.

"Uncle Sam already fucks ya in the ass, bonnie. It's the only time I'm yer designated sloppy side piece."

You can't hide the smile that emerged over your lips, pushing a piece of sweat ridden hair out of his eyes as you lovingly gaze up at him.

"Then I guess I'll be needing another down payment in advance. Just for good measure."

And of course, Soap obliges. Thrusting his still hardened cock deep into your core as he mutters those two words you love to hear.

"Yes, ma'am."

4Runner Wingman Masterlist

@deadbranch @sofasoap @d3athtr4psworld @punishmepunisher @jynxmirage @obligatoryghoststare @mykneeshurt @glitterypirateduck @homicidal-slvt @shotmrmiller @astraluminaaa @kkaaaagt @havoc973 @writeforfandoms @luismickydees

[tennessoui]

kit's list of obikin fic recs in no particular order

y'all asked and i finally answered.....here's a list of fics i've read and adored this year! note that i've tagged things that i think could squick people (a/b/o dynamics, weird biology, dub con, heavy kink, etc), and i've noted the ratings (explicit, mature, teen), but i have not noted top/bottom (this list contains a pretty even split of both) and i haven’t indicated which are WIPs - take a chance! i've left little paragraphs as to why i liked the fic but i tried to keep spoilers out of them so the story can be a surprise :D

remember to leave a comment and a kudos if you enjoyed the fic :D

Igneous - zimriya Notes: Explicit, A/B/O dynamics, canon compliant, series!

Trying to find this fic so I could reread it was the thing that prompted me to make this list. That’s how amazing this fic is. It tears out your heart strings. It hurts. I love it. It’s soft. It makes me cry. I am never going to recover from this perfect retelling of canon. This hurts just as much as the kenobi show. I owe this author a medical bill and a thank you card. I don’t care if a/b/o isn’t your thing or omega obi-wan isn’t your thing i need you to try reading this fic i really do because it’s just honestly superb and beautiful prose and i think about some of these lines near daily. Ok, fine. Daily.

I’d Never Be Me (Without The Support of Your Loving Arms) by euryrice  Notes: Explicit

i don’t think i’ll ever stop talking or thinking about this fic, it’s up there for me….such a good take on a bond/spy au that I don’t think I’ll ever seriously try at one myself because it’d never be ‘i’d never be me without the support of your loving arms’; it’s just so well thought through. Canon lovingly applied. Kit beautifully moved and hungry for a second part of the series, even though it doesn’t even need a second part and is perfect as a stand alone. Witty banter rating: 10/10

Hooked On You by @whohatessand Notes: Explicit, infidelity, side anidala (padmé is being cheated on)

Dirty bad wrong never felt so good though; Anakin is cheating on his wife with her campaign manager. Anakin is very not satisfied with being a trophy husband, and honestly it’s so valid of him. This is so well-written that Anakin’s frustration with his life, his wife, his duties all feels very real and understandable. Does that excuse the cheating and the spit-as-lube fucking at a donor ball? Nah, but they know it doesn’t. And it ends on a very hopeful obikin note, which is my favorite

The Final Frontier of Pleasure by @jedibongrip Notes: Explicit, bp!Anakin, virginity kink (ish?)

“Just the tip” made into a very hot 2k fic wherein anakin’s definitely not a virgin anymore, but obi-wan’s gonna go along with it if it makes him happy (and means that he gets to keep touching him, god bless); note to say that all of this author’s stuff is very good!

Stars To Fill My Dreams by hidden_humours Notes: Explicit, reverse master/padawan, dark Anakin

Anakin is teetering on going off the walls insane in this fic and I am so here for it. This is just amazing. I love a padawan obi-wan and I especially love this time-travel with a twist (which I won’t spoil!); the summary even says “yeah this anakin isn’t all there” and the author is right!!! 100%!! I love it. I want to poke this Anakin with a stick. I want to push him off his metaphorical cliff of sanity. I want to push Obi-Wan off a cliff just to see what this Anakin would do. What a fic. What a goddamn fic.

Obi-Two by @virahaus Notes: Explicit, Obi-Wan/Anakin/Obi-Wan

Guys, holy shit I am so excited for this WIP you have no idea. Everything about it is delicious so far. The Obi-Wan that gets zapped back in time just before ROTS/Order 66 is living to see twunk Anakin again and he is so soft yet so commanding about it. Ben!Obi-Wan literally kills me in this fic. If there’s never another chapter, I’m begging you to read this anyway, it’s that good.

Vast as the sea, constant as the tide by @moonlightatnoon Notes: Explicit, pirate!anakin, captain!Obi-Wan

So maybe Kit’s attention was captured and held by the sea-themed title…she’s a simple lady. But this fic is absolutely beautiful.  I love the intrigue, the history, the pining of it all. My attention, much like Obi-Wan, was gently captured and held hostage by pirate Anakin and the way he’s like ‘my obi-wan <3 mine <3’ while also being a whole ass pathetic lil mew mew of a pirate. He is so possessive and fearsome and clingy and needy I love this Anakin and how much he needs his Obi-Wan. I love the ending especially! Beautifully done.

Buns of Steel by @ragnarlothcat Notes: Explicit, humor, himbos the both of them 

Put this under Fics That Make Kit Want To Join A Gym. I love the humor here (Rag has such a legendary way with a great turn of phrase and pacing of jokes that just makes the fic fly by) and the ridiculousness of it all. Obi-Wan here is extremely lovably bitchy and I adore it. His dialogue is quite polite, but this is a fic where the narration really makes the characterization pop. Also the amount of lusting after his beautiful aerobics instructor that Obi-Wan does…and how UNFAIR he finds Anakin’s beauty. Just amazing. Cheering for Obi-Wan living his best life and getting the hot aerobics instructor in the end.

My Thoughts I Confess (Verge On Dirty) by @artemisthehuntress Notes: Explicit, horny, horny, horny Obi-Wan

This is, of course, the other fic filed under Fics That Make Kit Want To Join A Gym. I love Anakin in booty shorts. I love Obi-Wan, head empty and no thoughts because his dick is too goddamn hard to see straight. One should not be exercising under such conditions. The humor here is impeccable. Love all of Obi-Wan’s fantasies with the hot guy working out next to him. If you’re a fan of horny-grip Obi-Wan, this is the fic for you! If you’re not as into horny-grip Obi-Wan, I’d say this fic is still worth the read because it’s just written so well.

just like the days we’d burn by @travellingcircus Notes: Explicit, PTSD mentions, heavy

I was always going to rec one of travellingcircus’ fics of course. They are a fantastic writer and I love their fics - especially the long oneshots that consume my entire night when I see that one’s been posted and I get to delve into a new side of obikin I could never imagine. This fic is one of my favorites by them – and maybe one of my favorite modern aus all together. Anakin has a racing career until he has an accident. Then he goes back to his small town and decides to have Obi-Wan instead because first love (I love first love fics especially in modern aus)!! Also Obi-Wan has a motorbike. This is excellent news. He also has helmet hair. I love Anakin in this fic so much. He’s crazy. He’s wounded. He’s obsessed. He’s in love. He’s desperate. And Anakin makes Obi-Wan all these things too. Such a good modern au for these characters. They feel so close to their canon characters, it’s marvelous.

Where Every Mask Cracks by skyl_tales Notes: Explicit, a spin-off of one of their other fics, but can be standalone

Skyl_tales’ fics for me are the very definition of fandom classic. They were the first fics I read and I continue to reread them roughly maybe once every year at least. They’re just all very readable. The writing style is something I have always loved and envied – their fics are approachable and entertaining, no matter how much you know or don’t know about Star War at the time of your reading. Tbh I think this is the fic author who has influenced my writing the most! I love this fic in particular because I do have a soft spot for vaderwan. Old Ben being delightfully torn up over Vader and Vader being delightfully unhinged about his former master…..with a magical fix-it device that restores both of them to their younger, strongest selves (if only to make the fucking easier and the horny insatiable)

Gay Chicken by zimriya Notes: Explicit, enemies to lovers, light daddy kink

Where to begin with this fic!!! I guess I cannot stress enough how much I love humor in fics when done right and this is done so well. Like it is literally so funny and so normal. There is something so beautiful about putting these space monk superheroes into like. Just situations. This fic is about laundry. But also upstairs neighbors. But also lost loves??? I’m always a bit hesitant for fics with a lot of notes/messages, because I can find that hard to read, but this was very, very easy to read, both format-wise and flow of the story wise. I love them both being assholes to each other.  Love them slowly becoming friends through notes under the monikers “501” and “212”. LOVE the twist.

wildest dreams by kidhuzural Notes: Explicit, 5+1 fic

Basically: Baby Anakin wants to get married to Obi-Wan. Teenager padawan Anakin wants to marry Obi-Wan. Clone Wars Anakin wants to marry Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan wants to marry Clone Wars Anakin. I love love love fics that start out with baby padawan Anakin and have him grow up. It places so much emphasis on their master&padawan relationship and how important they were to each other before AOTC or TCW, which I think is the strongest basis for obikin. Also this Anakin is just so cute and Obi-Wan cares for his baby padawan so much!! All in all, this fic is just so sweet. Obsessed.

In Pursuit of Cold Water by @jswander Notes: Mature, Merman!Anakin

Can I have a fic rec list that doesn’t include this fic?? I love this fic. I think I reread it like twenty times while waiting for the last chapter, and it was worth it and gripping and incredible each time. I am fascinated by writers who can worldbuild, and Jo worldbuilds so well in this mermaid AU. I love the descriptions of their fins; the possessiveness, the hurt, the anger, the jadeness, and the naivete of Anakin somehow all existing in the same character and all being so justified. There’s some really heavy moments and also really silly moments (they dress Anakin up as an old lady to avoid detection at one point). I love the development of their relationship and especially the growth of their mental bond. Such a good translation  of their Force bond in canon (and such a clever work-around for a mermaid not speaking English!) Just an amazing fic. So good.

The Devil’s In The Details by @ragnarlothcat Notes: Explicit, demon Anakin, darker!Anakin (because of the demon bit)

Back at it again with my Rag-writing obsession! I’m loving this WIP and how evil and innocent Anakin is. Yeah, he’s a demon haunting Obi-Wan’s new house; yeah, he’s killed like. A ton of people. But he’s so pathetic. So very eager to please. So very attractive. As a reader, you’re like Obi-Wan’s friend, Quinlan, who discovers Obi-Wan sleeping with a literal demon, and you’re like ‘bestie, do you not know? That’s a literal demon?’ and obi-wan is like ‘he is quite polite and does so good on our walks around town’ and you’re like ‘you’re taking him on walks???’ but also you can’t help but root for demon Anakin and poor decision-maker Obi-Wan. Also, once again, I love Rag’s humor and timing of it. The narration Obi-Wan has is so colorful and so fucking funny, I snort all the time. He’s such a bitch. He’s amazing.

By Omission by @posthumousvigor Notes: Explicit, reverse master/padawan au, drunk sex

This writer is very quickly becoming one of my favorites. I love their prose and the way they write Obi-Wan—especially padawan!Obi-Wan with Master Anakin. One of my favorite dynamics for obikin aus, and this writer gives me so much good food. TBH one of my all-time favorite cliches/tropes is one of them getting dressed up out of their Jedi robes to be put in Situations, and I especially love this for Obi-Wan cause Anakin got a whole movie of dressing up for funsies, and this fic delivers. Master Skywalker comes back early from a mission to find his padawan slutting it up in the Lower Levels, and what is a man to do other than snap?? And he snaps so beautifully in this fic. I love it when they’re horny beyond reason for each other.

how to stay by answersinahauntedclub Notes: Explicit, professor/student relationship

I know logically that this fic probably will not update again, but it is so beautiful and I think about it all the time. It is like. The peak of college/university aus in this fandom. Bold statement, I know, but I love this fic and characterization so much that I am stating it. They’re both disasters. They can’t resist each other even if they really, really should. It’s an incredible read and I am fascinated by both this Obi-Wan and this Anakin. Cannot stress enough the lovable disasters that they are. In writing this, I took an hour break and reread it again.

we’re swimming with the sharks (until we drown) by @obiwaned Notes: Teen, fake/pretend relationship

Getting this update notification felt like such a sweet sweet win for me. I loved the premise as soon as I read it and it just keeps getting better. Fake marriage for any reason is always amazing. I also LOVE non-linear timelines and this writer does it so well because you as the reader don’t get lost and confused trying to keep the timeline straight. It’s delectable, it’s straightforward, it’s so easy to devour, and I am obsessed with this fic and even the possibility of more.

Self-Insert by ZenyZootSuit Notes: Teen, crack

God this is so funny in a very crack way. Short and funny and perfect. Darth Vader writes self-insert fanfiction about being with Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Darth Sidious finds out. Imperial secrets are leaked, but I’m sure those were important details he needed to include!! For context! Realism! Absolutely perfect; no notes.

Open Circle by Calyss Note: Explicit, Dark Obi-Wan, dom/sub (under)tones, seduction to the Dark side

This is also one of my annual rereads, and one of my absolute favorite Sith Obi-Wans in the fandom. I love how out of control this sith Obi-Wan is, how very obsessed with just Anakin he is. Sith Obi-Wan really said “he’s mine” and he’s gonna destroy Anakin’s marriage and the whole galaxy to prove it. And also Anakin is not going to say no or resist much at all because that’s his master and he loves him and has weird feelings for him he has not really examined. This is also such an id fic of mine. But no regrets putting it on the list. When I saw it updated in October 2022, I literally cleaned my room and improved my life before I sat down to read it.

How to Save a Galactic Republic Without Really Trying by @sharpest-tongue Notes: Mature, Post Kenobi show

So many amazing fics came out of the Kenobi show but this absolutely has to be one of my favorites. There’s humor, there’s touching moments, there’s Star Wars lingo I didn’t know but that made the whole thing feel very much in-universe (and that I have now incorporated into my Star Wars Wikipedia slash Dictionary for later use, even if it’s all made up). I love a time travel fic, has to be said, and this one delivers perfectly. The Jedi as family in this fic really made me emotional. Extra special shout out to Obi-Wan, raising his padawan again in a do-over, and thinking, ‘i was not this bad as a teenager wtf?? Yeah ok whatever i MAY have fought in TWO WARS at that age but still!!!’ love him. Love his obvious blind spots for anakin and also for himself. Such a good fic!!!

broken bones, thunder drums by @maragny Notes: Teen, hurt/comfort

There is so much to love about this fic and I love it all. Clone War fics are like my bread and butter in this fandom. I love obikin fics that take place in the middle of battle where the reader is confronted with the reality of either Anakin or Obi-Wan fighting – and this fic really starts by throwing you into the action in such a visceral, effective way that I was stressed! I was gripped! It makes Anakin hiding his injury feel not only understandable but also like the only option. Good think Obi-Wan is there to save the day and help Anakin through his pain because he is overprotective and in love with him. Also the first chapter is told from Rex’s point of view, which just. One of my favorite outsider POVs for obikin is Rex.

no news is good news by @rhymenoceros Notes: Mature, crack, relationship reveal, breaking news/news cycle format

This fic is so funny! The tone is perfect for what the writer sets out to do — that is, make the reader feel like they’re caught up in a social media news cycle! There’s talk shows, there’s paparazzi, there’s space reddit, there’s leaked Jedi text conversations….the Jedi screen names are hilarious and easy to tell who is who while still staying true to the joke. Cannot recommend this fic enough. Cute, funny, horny, and with that sweet sweet Palpatine downfall that the best cracky fics always have.

Falling Deep Into You by @dark--whisperings Notes: Explicit, dom/sub tones, so much pining

Any fic that has the tag “Obi-Wan Kenobi is a freak in bed” has my attention and my interest. This writer describes Anakin subbing and Obi-Wan domming so very beautifully that it’s almost a manifesto in 8k. Lots of good sex here, but I really love the opening scene and the push and pull the writer’s given the characters. They want each other so much—Obi-Wan wants so much, but alas! Religious guilt on par with catholicism! Of course the nasty freaky sex fiend in Obi-Wan wins out over the Jedi Master, but I really enjoyed the guilt and the way he gives in and goes to find Anakin because of course he does. And then the ending! A resetting of the chess board so that the game can start over tomorrow. A great fic all in all!

you took my love so tenderly by @billboguspreston & @acrylicsalts-inspo Notes: Explicit, prince/guard dynamic, exhibitionism

I started reading this fic when it was first posted, and I followed it attentively and with baited breath. I love the reverse age dynamic (I know, it’s not for everyone, but I lovelovelove it), and I love that this Obi-Wan is such a spitfire. He knows what he wants and that’s for his silent, restrained, older, handsome bodyguard to snap and fuck him and he WILL brat his way into getting what he wants as is his right. Anakin being both incredibly horny (Anakin horny-gripping the pommel of his sword because Obi-Wan has decided to get off right in front of him to see if he can tempt him into fucking him) is amazing. Obi-Wan being both the aggressor and also the inexperienced one is chef’s fucking kiss and a dynamic I do not see often enough. So worth the read. And there may be more sequels??? Be still my beating heart!

I Wanna Be Owned by @kyberkenobi Notes: Explicit, 5+1 things, light BDSM

Speaking of horny grip lol, I had to think for a bit about which fic from this writer to choose because all of them are very good and very very smutty with all sorts of kinks and dynamics. The writer you go to for mean dom Obi-Wan and if you’re feeling up for discovering a kink you weren’t sure you were into before. There’s plenty of amazing fics on her ao3 (I was also immediately obsessed with the recent alpha/alpha one), but this fic is one of my favorites. I love the style of a 5+1 for a fic, and I am obsessed with casual slut (affectionate) Obi-Wan and Anakin’s blinders of his master slowly being pulled away until he HAS to confront the reason Obi-Wan can untie and hogtie a criminal they caught so damn quickly. It’s indecent. It’s amazing. 

Our Man From Tatooine by kazmir Notes: Explicit, a/b/o dynamics, intersex omegas

This story is such a good, quick, enthralling read. I really can’t say much without spoiling it, but it’s worth the read. Dark Obikin, twists and turns, roleplaying, horny mates being unable to resist the other’s draw….so good….One of those fics I paused to reread while reccing it lol

Acts of Contrition by @marycontraire Notes: A series, ranging from Gen - Explicit

Cheating a little bit to rec you all a series instead because I just reread this fic series and fell in love with it all over again. Literally a fandom classic for me. The world building is amazing, the realism and research really pays off because it creates such a rich world for people to dive into. The Tatooine culture is so rich and interesting, and I love this Anakin especially. It’s a very realistic take on if Anakin had been expelled from the Order for the Tusken massacre. This Anakin is darker and clingier and Obi-Wan is trying to keep himself level and sane and something Anakin can cling to while still being a Jedi in all but name. Every installment of this series is gold and worth reading as quickly as possible just to have this in your mind faster. Also worth a slow read to savor it because unfortunately, you can only read a fic series like this for the first time once.

You can call me baby (you can call me love) by @lilredghost Notes: Explicit, 5 + 1

This fic is so sweet that I honestly forgot it was explicit - even though, yes, it opens with a sex scene lmao! But I love this writer’s explicit fics so much (their ao3 is worth a browse) that I am not disappointed in it being explicit, no sir. Obi-Wan gets upset when Anakin calls him an old man repeatedly and I’ve read this fic so much that when I see repeated use of “old man” in other fics I’m like “! no! His feelings!!!” this fic ALSO has anakin calling obi-wan baby <3  so good so sweet so perfect.

take my hand through the flames by @atornpage Notes: Explicit, vaderwan, seduction to the Dark Side

Oh this may just be the WIP I am most excited to see updated! It’s such a clever and unique concept that I’m on the edge of my seat to see where the writer takes the story next. There are not enough stories where a character falls into a coma and time passes around them, and this is so perfect. I adore fics where baby Anakin is clingy and obsessed with Obi-Wan and everyone around them is like ‘this is not REALLY the Jedi way, guys’, and this fic has SO much of that. I can’t wait to see all the promises of the tags come to fruition and am massively enjoying the ride to get there!

Heal Me, My Darling by @wasureneba Notes: Explicit, sick fic, idiots in love

Who doesn’t love a sick fic?? The tender healing…the care…the rotten work…not to me, not if it’s you, etc etc…this fic is such a good sick fic too, I was here for the entire thing! Anakin is in top whiny form and Obi-Wan is cuddling him left and right! I also love Anakin having a praise kink in this fic – it made me soft and so receptive to the idea again when I was getting tired of seeing it as a default in a ton of fics. But this fic said “Obi-Wan tells Anakin he’s doing good while touching his ass to administer a very important for plot reasons shot and Anakin bursts into flames” and I said “absolutely and understandable, please tell me what happens next.” This is like a perfect sick fic for me. The right balance of sweet and horny. Caring Obi-Wan and whiny because he’s bored! Anakin. God-tier combination.

Νόστος by NFx Notes: Explicit, stockholm syndrome typical of hades & persephone aus

I am always here for a good Hades&Persephone AU and I feel like this is a great one! I especially love AUs that carefully place Star Wars GFFA characters into an established world (like Greek mythology in this case), and take care to match up the side characters of the GFFA with the AU characters they’re being transposed on. I like the pace and narration of this one too, the way the tone feels both readable and still old — the dialogue and narration don’t read like a BBC documentary set in Ancient Greece where everyone just sort of speaks like they’re in a Shakespeare play for some reason, but it’s still sorta oldish/stiffer dialogue that really keeps you in the fic universe without alienating readers. Also, horny. But dark horny. Love a darker Anakin. 

Hunting the Homeward Light by GreenQueenofClubs Notes: Teen

One of my all-time favorites, I think, and if you haven't read it or haven't reread it recently, you need to! There's so much tension build up and detail put in with such an amazing pay off that I could literally read this fic every month and probably find something new to enjoy all over again. I don't even have strong opinions about mace training anakin, but this fic convinced me it could work and work really well. also poor poor obi-wan </3 his emotional support padawan goes missing </3 but then is found :) as a twunk :)

[omgreally]

Hot Coffee ☕️ / Joel Miller/F!Reader / 1.5k-2k ish / E18+ MINORS DNI

Warnings: This escalated quickly. Angst; Banter; Sexual tension that is most definitely resolved; Consenting adults getting carried away; unprotected sex; smut, little bit of a breeding kink if you squint.

Summary: When is a coffee date not a coffee date? When it’s with Joel Miller, of course. It’s about time both of you got the hint.

—

Joel tries not to think about creature comforts much. The world ended so suddenly that most of them became a thing of the past in a single afternoon. By the time the next day dawned, he forgot about things like Sunday mornings and coffee and watching TV and playing board games; all that mattered was survival.

He often wondered why he bothered. There didn’t seem to be much to live for, after - after Sarah. Tommy kept him going a while, and sheer spite after that; anger at the whole world, anger that manifested itself through the impact of his fists or from the barrel of his gun. Bloody knuckles and the metallic tang of of gunpowder and copper the only taste left in the back of his throat. Things like coffee and pancakes? A thing of the past. Forgotten.

Tess cooled him down some, reminded him of something other than emptiness, but the space between her and Ellie coming along was too narrow, the grief too fresh, so he locked it away. He was pretty sure he’d never be close to someone like that ever again.

It was inevitable, though. Humans always sought out companionship; it was pack instinct more than anything else. At least, that’s what Joel tells himself as you sit across from him, drinking coffee.

He tells himself he isn’t getting comfortable or complacent, because if he let himself think that, then he’d start to think he doesn’t deserve it, and he knows where a thought like that ends. But he can taste something other than blood now, and he’s not sure why, but that scares him - more than his anger does.

Joel lets the silence stretch between you, and you seem comfortable with it. He imagines a time years ago when this would be a date. Now it’s just two humans sharing a space and a time where they don’t have to fight to survive. When he stops to think about it, he realises it feels…nice.

So nice he almost didn’t want to let you in when you came to his door, but you had a bag of coffee beans- real coffee beans - you pilfered on a patrol and you were offering to share them with him, no one else, him - and he’s not sure if it’s because he was the only person you knew who owned a coffee grinder in Jackson or not.

Joel’s not sure he can handle the implications otherwise.

“Finished already?” You raise a brow as he drains his chipped mug and sets it down on the table between you. “Jesus, Miller. You’re gonna be bouncing off the walls for hours. That shit’s Colombian.”

“Thirty-year-old Arabica beans,” he corrects, pointing a finger at you, making you smile. Making you smile is always easier than it should be. Easier with him than with others, he’s noticed. It worries him. “Probably full of more E. coli than caffeine.”

“You fail high school chemistry too?” You tease him often, because the man takes himself too damn seriously. Joel hates that he likes it, and he hates that you can tell.

“Okay, it’s oxidised,” he drawls, “It tastes like shit but it won’t kill me. Happy?”

“Only when you’re miserable,” you say brightly. He scoffs and shakes his head, and the quiet builds between you, its presence suddenly large and uncomfortable in the absence of more coffee. You sigh, and give up. “Ah, never mind. I should get going. Sorry the coffee was shit.”

You stand up and move towards the door. Joel catches your wrist, and you pause. Look down at the man. More greys than when you first met him, but his cheeks aren’t as hollow. Jackson suited him, even though he makes any excuse not to settle down.

Ellie’s happy here, so he doesn’t have a choice.

“Thanks,” Joel says, making eye contact. Your turn to look away. Too serious. “I haven’t had fresh-ground coffee in…” he pauses to think, going back. Too far back. “Ages,” he finishes. His fingers are still on your wrist.

“Well, you were the first person I thought of when I found it. Haven’t had a good supply run like that in ages. But it wasn’t fresh. I think you said something about E. coli?”

“Sorry. You know I-“ He fights for the words when you take his hand. You’ve never done that before. Flirted with him, sure, but you’ve never touched him unsolicited like this. You’ve got more boundaries, more walls up than he does sometimes.

“You remember coffee dates?” You smile at his frown. “You know, some asshole buys you a coffee, expects you to sleep with him after. Happened all the time to the girls I worked with at the bar, back before the world ended. Never to me though. So one day, I brought an asshole a cup of coffee. Know what happened?”

Joel shakes his head, mute. He’s stroking your wrist with his thumb, turned his body towards you. You could just sit right on his knee if you wanted. You could lean down and kiss him.

“We sat and drank coffee for twenty minutes and neither of us said a word.”

Joel lets you go like you’ve bitten him. He wonders if he’s blown it, and he’s surprised to find out he really hopes he hasn’t. You put up a lot but he’s always known it was inevitable he would ruin any chance at friendship - or more - with you by pushing you away. He’s been doing it for weeks, months even, ignoring your hints, responding with taciturn silence, expecting you to figure out it was habit drilled into him by years of only his own loneliness and anger for company.

“I’m sorry,” Joel says, not meeting your eyes. You touch his shoulder and then he looks up.

“Don’t be. Best coffee date I’ve had in ages.”

He tastes like bitter, burnt beans when you kiss him, and you imagine you don’t taste much better. But Joel reacts as if he’s drowning and you’re his only source of air - rising to his feet, his hands on your waist - he kisses you back like he never forgot how.

He didn’t know how much he wanted you until you were about to walk away.

Joel prays to god Ellie’s still out with that girl she likes because if she walked into their house right now she would see her surrogate father figure with his tongue down your throat and his hands in your pants. Your thoughts go down a similar road as you fumble with his belt.

There’s no need for words or what-ifs between you; you don’t need to say anything because you both know it doesn’t matter. All that matters is now, the press of Joel’s mouth and tongue, the solid promise of his body.

Joel touches you at first as if he can’t believe you’re real, that this is happening. But he’s quick to grow bold, hands kneading at your breast, fingers pinching at the peak of your nipple when he finds out it you like it - rewarding him with a gasp. Joel grins that cheeky fucking grin you see on him sometimes, when he thinks you aren’t looking, and suddenly all that matters is the stubborn zipper of his fly, the buttons of your shirt, and your sneakers which you just can’t seem to kick off fast enough before either of you stop to think that this might not be the best idea after all.

Joel can’t remember the last time he had a good idea, but this doesn’t feel like a bad one. Not with the heat of your mouth at his throat, the firm, pliable curves of your body pressed against him. He knew you weren’t the shy type but he almost chokes when you palm the outline of his stiffening dick before you even get his zipper all the way down.

It’s like a spell the two of you are too reluctant to break by speaking. There’s just the combined sound of your breathing, the press of your mouths, the intoxicating buzz of caffeine mixed with arousal so painfully strong it’s like a cramp. You need to fuck Joel right now as much as you need to breathe. He seems to feel the same, if how hard he is is anything to go by.

When you finally free his cock the animal part of Joel’s brain starts snarling and clawing at the walls. He grabs a fistful of your hair and spins you around, bending you forward over the table. You manage to kick one of your sneakers off, your jeans hanging off one leg - he doesn’t even pull your panties down, just drags the soaked fabric aside to make room for him.

Everything up til now has been frenzied. Coffee cups and clothes all over the floor. But when he pushes into you, time slows; and for a moment there’s no apocalypse outside Jackson. There’s just the feeling of Joel feeding your pussy every inch of his cock, slow but steady, as if he already knows you can take it. And you can, and you do, holding your breath as your entire focus narrows to the delicious ache between your legs as Joel stretches you open.

Then you feel his warm, wide palm on your back, long fingers stroking almost soothingly down your spine. He doesn’t speak but you can almost hear the dark molasses of his Texas drawl, lifting the hairs on your neck - Relax. Breathe. So you do, and Joel rewards you by pulling out slow - and thrusting in again quicker, finding a new angle that has the blunt head of his dick striking some nerve inside you that has you seeing stars, and then he does it again. And again.

You want to sob his name and drag claw marks into the table but you just hold onto the edge of it and arch your back, closing your eyes. You haven’t been fucked like this in years - maybe ever - and it feels right that it’s now, that it’s Joel Miller.

Thank God for coffee dates.

Joel’s thighs slap into the back of yours, the table jumping beneath you. You can hear him panting like distant thunder. When your legs start to shake beneath you, he loops an arm around your hips and finds your clit in seconds with two fingertips, as instinctive as pulling a trigger. You know you’re not going to last much longer, and he seems intent on it.

You moan his name then - without meaning to, without your permission - and Joel’s pace stutters. He starts grinding into you, barely pulling out before surging back in again, almost lifting your feet from the floor. You’re so wet you can hear it with each impact but you don’t give a fuck and Joel loves it; the reaction of your body only spurring him on.

All too quickly, you’re quivering on a knife’s edge, straining towards it, and you let go of a sob when you come, and the sudden fluttering, wet clench of your cunt around his cock finally does Joel in.

He knows he shouldn’t but he just needs to be inside you, deep enough to bruise, to replace the taste of coffee with the taste of him in the back of your throat - an instinct he just can’t hold back. He snaps his hips forward one last time, the slick wet heat of you welcoming him home, and his vision goes white as his cock pulses rhythmically inside you, filling you with his come.

You twitch and shiver through it, moaning weakly, encouragingly. You push back against him with the grip of your toes on the floor, murmuring wordless little sounds in time with the aftershocks.

Joel’s knees feel weak when awareness finally returns. He leans over you, breathing hard as if he’s just been running from a pack of Clickers, pressing his forehead against the back of your neck.

You know you should be pissed that Joel Miller just fucking came in you, but, well, you let him - and you liked it. A lot. You wanted him to. In fact, the predominant feeling you have now is one of satisfaction. In more ways than one.

You reach back on instinct to touch his face, as if to reassure yourself he’s still there. Joel flinches - but then you feel his beard, his lips against your fingers, your neck, your temple.

Yeah. He wanted this too. Maybe even needed it, too, as much as he needed the coffee.

“Definitely the best coffee date I’ve ever had,” you croak when you can speak again. And you think you can feel Joel smiling against your neck.

[kathrinesadventures]

Update!

Okay, so these past two weeks were pretty good-ish, at least in terms of writing lmao. Been trying to just focus on the game cause it be helping allat. (If I sound like I'm high, I probably am lmao) Anyways, that aside, it's been a really productive week.

I've been trying to hit 2K words rewritten. Again, I am so very sorry for making you all go through what ever I was on when I wrote that XD I'm going to try to push and finish the rewrite on the 1st and then release on the 10th-15th of October (Pretty tall order seeing that I have to rewrite about 70K words) (like Oh my god, Chapter 2 is close to 110K words) Deleted like… 2-4K words, I'm gonna have to keep track of that XD The character section was updated so you can see the character's profile Added an Emphasis on both Solathis and Adrian and did a bit of Lore building without it being a lore dump. Gonna have to manage it efficiently. Wrote how there's a pressure on Vigil on sending the MC and Blaine to the Church even though he doesn't want to because he cares deeply about the two. (Alcoholic brooding guy for the win!) Thinking of making Vigil a Romanceable option (BIG IF DON'T MURDER ME… I mean, the man looks in his late 20's and is handsome AF, why ya'll gonna murder me? Plus it's not like it's gonna happen right now anyways. Big plans for da future) I made slight adjustments to the wording with Vigil, where he encourages you to use the pendant instead of discouraging you. I kind of did an oopsie there and said that you guys shouldn't use itat all instead of "Use it sparingly."

A lot of other things changed obviously, gonna have to drop in the MC's treating Solathis and Adrian as Gods to show the Good Vs Bad side (even though both are very grey and have pretty good reason to do what they do)

Anyways, gonna head out, see you all!

[cozystarred]

January 4th :)

Eyeballed everything today bcs I felt like shit and had like 4 hours of sleep and then had to go to work 😔

Breakfast:

- Low-fat quark with granola and blueberries: ~160 kcal

Lunch:

- Ryebread with jam: ~90 kcal

- Low-fat quark with granola, raspberries, and some honey: ~185 kcal

- Skinny salty caramel bar: 62 kcal

Dinner:

- Pre-cooked rosemary chicken with veggies meal (didn't eat all of it): ~380 kcal

- Sweet potato fries: ~100 kcal

Snack:

- 1.5 cookie: ~150 kcal

- Candy: 30 kcal

- Milk candy: 16 kcal

Total: 1183 kcal

Burnt: 277 kcal

Net: 906 kcal

Slowly gonna be lowering my cal intake since idk what'll happen if I go from ~2k to 500 💀

(30 day thinspo + cal tracker):

Day 15-22:

15: Nope, not vegan or vegetarian. Not considerig turning it as well.

16: I think around 14/15 years old was when I first started actually putting in effort to lose weight? I just did a 15 minute workout every two days, but didn't watch what I ate at all. I've known since ~10yo I was bigger than the rest of my class though, the biggest in the friend group, etc. At the time I had bigger things to worrh abt though

17: I guess? Idk sometimes when I'm binging or eating normally I feel like a faker. I sometimes just feel so tired of everything I stop caring about calories. I'm also not underweight (bmi says I'm healthy and at a perfect weight, but how the fuck can I be when literally everyone else is so much thinner than me??)

18: Cookies T_T oliebollen (dutch doughnut balls), pepernoten, chocolate, hot chocolate, Crème brûlée, thousand layer cake, grapes, pancakes, chocolate covered raisins, sweet chili doritos, kaiser rolls. Too much.

19: Had a turkish pizza with döner the day before yesterday. Wasn't even worth the huge amount of calories since it tasted alright-ish. Regretted eating that, always do.

20: Don't really have one :/ I don't follow diets (just try to have a cal intake of ~500 kcal a day) because in the case I'm forced by family/friends to eat and go over my max kcal for the day I'll feel SO guilty, even if its just 50 calories.

21: Clothing sizes suck bcs I'm wearing xs thermal leggings, an s long sleeve shirt, an m shirt (I have L as well). So it varies.

22: It's 55,7kg/122.8lbs. It's not that low, but I was SO close to my gw1 :( Then Christmas happened. And then we went to (my favorite) themepark for three days during new years and I binged like daily T_T (idk if I can call it a binge. Body was full, mind was rabid pig ig)

Some pictures from the trip ^^ despite the stress around food, I had fun. Next time I visit I will be skinny, and I will be able to like looking at pictures of myself.

[melsrainpod]

Some info on each of the fics under the cut:

Liliana/Katie, Dob POV: length — not much more than 2k I imagine; Dob is bound, gagged, blindfolded, absolutely enjoying hearing the two women whom he loves love each other. Only vaguely started, I have a start of the scene in my head

Edvard/Astor: length — long, at least one academic paper/patent description, purely out of desire to see what I can do with the format and if I can convey the intense gay yearning through academic rivalry. Exists solely as a fun idea in my head right now

Garnet/Edie: length — aiming at 5k, but not married to that number; Garnet is teaching Edie how to play poker, and while Edie is not skilled with the cards, she can definitely use her people-reading skills and other assets to bluff or at least make Garnet lose. Currently in research stage of how the hell does one play poker and which one would be most logical to have in Weird West

Nate & Delacy: length — ~1k; I just think that Nate deserves to have fun with his undead disposition and I bet he can teach Delacy old pranks and they can create new ones together. A fun idea I had while brainstorming, but definitely gonna be on the shorter side, as I haven't thought about it past having that idea

Morven/Robin: length — ~1.5k, but could grow longer; at a start of spring festival in a chill time between scouting missions Robin just wants to enjoy the music, but gets dragged unwillingly into the "mind palace" where he finally meets Morven and somehow convinces her to relax for at least ten minutes and enjoy the music with him. This one's being written, but very slowly, currently at something like 250-ish words

Cressida/Robin: length — truly couldn't even hazard a guess; pet play. this one is pet play. Robin needs to understand that he is better than a dog that took his job, so why not try becoming a better dog? Cressida is only willing to help out here, no ulterior motives here, no sir! Has an opening paragraph, but it's gonna have to be rewritten anyway, I want to expand it into a proper relationship exploration

Morven/Cressida: length — however long it takes for them to understand that they love each other even if they hate each other; what happens when you get two magical brats bickering? a proper love-hate relationship, apparently. they will save each other, they're gonna reach out for each other before anyone else from the party, they bicker constantly about the other's magic source and way of using it, they secretly adore each other and hate that fact about themselves. Has some ideas jotted down, will probably necessitate a rewatch of the campaign

EDIT because I just remembered it!! IdleChampions: Fury of the Black Rose, Miria/Merilwen. Let these two be friends and have some incredibly raw sex just out of pure need to unwind! Let Merilwen enjoy another addition to her evil partners roster!

also, screw it, main tagging, because why not. if you want to write (or do anything else fun with) any of these prompts yourselves — feel free! the more art the merrier the fandom!

[stobinesque]

im surprised how unevenly split the votes are in the wip game so I request another stobin-bo-bobin snippet please!

(im sorry i can never remember their names ik its the one with the finament? filament? vaguely long word with f and that's all my brain needs to recognize it. if its any consolation i don't even call my own fic by its name zkgxgkxmgd)

firmament! (it means "heavens" / the cosmos).

I'm a little stuck on it right now, but I have gotten almost 2k down in the past couple days! I got a total of *slowly counts through inbox* 9 asks (@theheadlessphilosopher sent two over the course of both weeks!), so I'm gonna do *does math* 18-ish lines! And tagging @delta-piscium @steves-strapcollection @bifuriouswaterbender @spicysix @inairbinad and @starryeyedjanai!

SNIPPET

(below a cut for post brevity; also, cw for sleep paralysis)

What if it’s back? What if it never left? What if it has Steve? Because apparently possession was totally on the table in their lives.

“Steve? Steve! Can you hear me? You’ve gotta wake up.”

His eyes stutter open like he’s being dragged to wakefulness. Hazel eyes stare back at her; unadulterated panic glinting in them. The small whines and groans he’d been making shift into muffled humming, like someone trying to talk through a gag. Like he’s trying to say something, but can’t form his mouth into words.

Robin is seconds away from grabbing the phone off her nightstand and calling anyone and everyone who might be able to help—wishing she had a walkie instead to radio out an all-purpose Code Red—when the dam breaks, and Steve sucks in a giant gasp of air and jerks upright like he’s surfacing from underwater.

“Steve! Steve, are you okay? Are you there?” She’s gripping his shoulder so tight that her nails are biting into flesh, but she can’t loosen her hold on him because if she lets go, he’ll float away.

“Couldn’t—” he gasps out. “Couldn’t move.” He’s nearly hyperventilating; chest heaving as he sucks in big gulps of air like he’s just been drowning. “Tied up. Frozen. I can’t—.” He bites out each word like it hurts to speak. “Robs, I can’t—” He collapses into her chest with a sob.

[rafestify]

Hi! I was wondering how long it took you to start getting good notes on your work… I’ve been writing a couple of months now and I’m so proud of my stuff and I’m just struggling to get it noticed. Some gets 100-400 notes but over a certain period. I just started something else and it’s gotten 70 notes in the past 12 hrs. I think it’s gonna be really beautiful too. I think I’ve been a little hard on myself lately, just overwhelmed with a lot of things but this is an outlet where I wanted to build a community and people love the work I do. (Please don’t think I just wanna be “famous” 😭)

I know I’m just working myself up but I was wondering your timeline.

hii babe! first of all, ive been on this app since like what 2018??? but then i started posting and writing actively a month ago and i had like only 10 followers because i never posted anything on this acc before. my notes were always around 100-200 ish at first, and then it grew to like 400 ish and now the fact that the two lines fic is nearly at 2k notes was nooottt on my list. i think u should post when the others are active, i usually post around 10am ish (us time) which is 10 pm in my country, and i think to gain a lot of notes, the mostttt important thing is using tags (i mean like a bunchhh offff taaaggss) for example, i always use the #rafe cameron, #rafe cameron imagine, #rafe cameron x reader, etc. basically just use a lot of tags that match with your content. secondly, i also think it's pretty hard to be recognized here, at first i also struggled to gain notes and mutuals but by posting regularly, it also helped me to get out of the 'flop' zone (iykwim) OH ALSO INTERACT WITH OTHER PPL'S POST like comment on their posts, like, or just follow them because i always follow those kind of account back. fyi, i also made an account for someone else like in 2022 and it flopped so bad, so i stopped posting. but then i created this account and it's much better than before, so i think you just have to keep posting regularly anon, just dont stop trying :)) ahhh alsoo don't be hard on yourselffff just remind yourself that you're doing this all for funn 💓🙌 i hope this helps! (sorry its a bit too long :v) also let's be moots anon, i'd love to be friends and see ur amazing works :) 😉

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Devil May Care: Part One

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2k

Warnings: canon angst and violence

Summary: Castiel is missing after you told him to go to the Bunker after the angels fell. However, that is put on hold when Abaddon calls with two hostages that you now need to save.

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated.

x

Instead of heading straight to the Bunker, Dean parked on the side of the road next to some outdoor picnic area. Sam's curious as to what's been happening since the fall, so you've told him everything minus the angel that's locked inside of him.

Dean is laying flat on top of the wooden table, and Joanna is climbing all over him like she's at a jungle gym. Mary's having some trouble crawling, but you're right next to her so she doesn't fall off the table.

"Joanna, be careful."

"Daddy is strong. He can take it," she says casually.

You and Dean laugh at this, and he tickles her side until she is crying with laughter.

"So, Cas is human?" Sam asks.

"Ish," Dean says, holding onto Joanna and sitting up so she is now in his lap. "I mean, he doesn't have any grace, no wings, no harp, and whatever the hell else he had."

"Okay. Where'd he crash-land?"

"He called us from a payphone from Longmont, Colorado. We told him to head to the Bunker."

"You think he can handle a road trip like that?"

"Cas is a big boy. If things go sideways, he has our number. Right now, we have bigger worries."

"Like the fallen angels."

Dean meant about Ezekiel, first, but he doesn't make a move to show his true feelings.

"Right. Thanks to Metatron, we now have a couple of thousand confused loose nukes walking around down here."

"What do you think they're gonna do?"

"We have no damn idea," you sigh.

"What about Crowley? Did you kill him?"

"I would've loved nothing better than to ice that fucking bitch. Then I thought to myself, what would Sam Winchester do?" Dean says bitterly.

"I'd've stabbed him in the brain."

"Well, I figured the King of Hell might know a few things, so why not keep his ass alive for the time being?"

"He's alive?" Sam asks, shocked.

You pick Mary up and follow Dean over to the car, to which Dean unlocks the trunk. Inside is Crowley, handcuffed, gagged, and unable to get out because of the warding. Dean painted a devil's trap underneath the roof to keep him from smoking out.

"Yeah, he's our bitch now," you grin.

"Yeah, bitch," Joanna says.

"Joanna!" you laugh, and Dean covers her mouth immediately. Crowley rolls his eyes at the sass she gives him, and Dean closes and locks the trunk. "We should really watch what we say around her."

By the time you get back to the Bunker, you're disappointed that Castiel isn't here. He either got lost, got captured by the many different angels after him, or found someone else to help. Either way, he's not here. The only person who you left behind in the Bunker is Kevin, and you're not sure what you'll be walking into.

Some of the lights are on, but as soon as you walk in, someone sets off the first trap. An arrow whizzes straight at you, but you use your magic to catch it before it can hit anyone. You look below to see Kevin with an automatic crossbow in his hands. You can't see much from your vantage point, but you can see that he's overturned the library tables to make some sort of barrier to protect him. He also took the books and stacked them all around him so nothing could get him.

"Easy there, Katniss," you say and walk down the metal stairs with Dean.

"Dean? Y/N? You're alive!" Kevin laughs.

"Had that hit me, not for long."

"Sorry, it's been a bad couple of days. I haven't slept or eaten, and I'm pretty backed up."

"Okay, TMI," Dean shakes his head.

"After we talked, this place went nuts, alright? There was some alarm, all the machines were freaking out, and the bunker just locked down! I couldn't open the door, my cell phone stopped working, and I thought the world was ending!"

"Close. The angels fell from Heaven."

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing good," Dean answers, and takes the crossbow from Kevin. "Listen, next time the world's ending, grab a gun." He takes out his cell phone to check if he has service. "I have service."

Kevin flips some switches on the control panel in the war room. All the lights turn on, and the machines whir into action.

"It's back online. Maybe when you opened the door from the outside, it reset the system."

"Yeah, let's go with that. Clean this all up," you say regarding the mess.

Sam enters the Bunker from above with Crowley next to him, and the demon has a bag over his head so he doesn't see where the Bunker is or what's inside. As soon as Kevin sees him, all he sees is red.

"No," Kevin whispers to himself.

Sam and Dean lead Crowley to the dungeon which is perfect for holding a demon while you put the kids to bed. They've been stuck in a car for almost twenty-four hours, so they need to take a much-needed nap. After that, you leave their room and head to the dungeon where Crowley is now chained to a chair in the center of the big devil's trap on the floor. Crowley takes in his surroundings. The side wall is filled with all kinds of torture implements.

"Homey. Where did you get this fantastic little treehouse?"

"Alright, here's how it's gonna go. You're giving us the name of every demon on Earth, and the people they're possessing," Sam demands.

"Am I? That doesn't sound like me."

"I saw you break down, Crowley. When I was trying to cure you, I knew a part of you was human again, and maybe still is."

"Blah blah, boohoo," Crowley rolls his eyes. "Are you done? Good because this is what I know. I'm not giving you anything. Why would I? You have no leverage, darlings. You're not gonna close the gates of Hell because you didn't. You're not gonna kill me because you haven't. So, what's left?"

"We have a few ideas," Dean smirks.

"Torture. Brilliant. Can't wait to see Sam in stilettos and a leather bustier, really putting the S-A-M into S&M. Honestly, boys. What are you gonna do to me that I don't do to myself just for kicks every Friday night?"

"Rot in Hell. See if we care," you say.

You and the brothers turn and leave the dungeon, closing the doors and locking them. Not like he can get out anyway. You turn off the lights and leave Crowley alone to stew in his feelings. When you get back upstairs, Kevin isn't shy to show his anger.

"What's Crowley doing here?! Why isn't he dead?! Why aren't you stabbing him right now?!"

"Calm down, Kevin," you sigh. "We need him."

"What?!"

"If we can get Crowley to give us the name of every demon he's got topside, we can hunt them down. All of them. He will break. When he does, we'll hold him down while you knife him. Then, we all go out for ice cream and strippers," Dean jokes.

"Just stay away from him, alright?"

Kevin sighs knowing he is outnumbered and unable to get past two heavyset Winchesters and a witch.

"Now what?"

"I gotta make some phone calls. You need to hit the Angel tablet and see if you can find anything on the spell that Metatron used to empty out Heaven," Dean says.

"Yeah, maybe we can reverse it before the God Squad does too much damage," Sam says. "I'll check anything relating to angels and demons and anything with monsters."

"It's going to be a long year," you sigh.

The best thing to do is to get on top of this angel thing, and Dean called every hunter he knew to see if they knew more about the angels falling. Some of them had no clue what was going on, some had information that Dean already knew, and others didn't answer. Dean's on the phone with Irv, a hunter your dad used to work with that he'd tell stories about. You've never met him but you know about him.

"Did you say fallen angels?"

"Yeah, they're monsters with good PR," Dean rolls his eyes. "So, if you run into one, torch his ass with holy oil. Oh, and if they drop a silver sword, grab it. Those pigstickers come in handy."

"Copy that."

"Hey, I know this is weird, but--"

"Weird is what we do," Irv cuts him off. "I remember this case me and Bobby worked up in Saskatoon, and it had these two—"

"Werewolf siamese twins," Dean chuckles.

"He told you about that?"

"Every time he drank Labatt's," you say.

"Yeah, so if you run into any problems, give me a call, okay? The more hunters that know, the better."

"Roger-Dodger."

Sam comes in with his laptop in hand just as Dean hangs up on Irv.

"I found something. Nothing angel related but it's demon related."

"They're all the same thing to me. Tell us in the car."

"Kevin!" you shout. You peek your head into the library where Kevin is cleaning up the books he made a mess of. "You're on kid duty. Can you handle that?"

"Fine," he sighs.

"Great. Thank you. Call me if you have any issues."

After packing up your things, you three head out. All that Sam knows is that a bus that held a few army soldiers and some prisoners was abandoned in a parking lot. The only thing left behind was the prisoners, but they were all dead. The entire area has been marked off with yellow tape, and there are multiple police officers and army personnel present. This is either going to go very well or not at all.

As soon as you step out of the Impala, you cough at the strong scent.

"Oh, God. This place reeks of sulfur," you groan.

"Between the stink, the freak thunderstorms, and every dead cow within three miles, I'll take demons for $1000, please," Dean jokes. A sergeant walks up to you three with an unhappy face. She must not like that you're here. "Hey. Agents Stark, Banner, and Maximoff, FBI. We're here to have a look around."

"Why? This is a military case, not a federal one."

"Well, that's not what our supervisor said," Sam sasses her.

"Is that so? Then maybe he and I oughta have a chat," she says with a bittersweet smile.

You're about to use your magic on her, but Dean is already pulling out his phone. There are a bunch of police and military personnel here, and if one of them sees you using magic, then it's game over for you. Dean quickly dials someone without looking at the Sergeant.

"Hey, boss, uh... we have a little problem here."

"Boss?" Kevin says, confused.

"Yeah, just a local badge needs confirmation we're supposed to be here. About how the word came down from FBI headquarters in DC."

"Wait, what?" Kevin stutters.

Dean has no choice but to hand her the phone, and you wait and see if you'll really need your magic or not. The Sergeant doesn't take her eyes off Dean as she puts the phone to her ear.

"This is Sargent Miranda Bates, who am I talking to?"

"Uh, Kevin... Solo."

"How old are you?"

Uh oh. Kevin better be quick on his feet if he is going to get you access to this crime scene without you stepping in.

"Old enough, and I'm with the FBI so you have to do what I say, or—"

"Listen, kid," Miranda cuts him off, "I don't have to do anything, and I don't take orders from the Feds. So, unless you can give me one good reason you got a few pretty-boy agents poking around my crime scene, I'm gonna put them in cuffs and spank your ass raw, understand?"

Shit.

"Cabo, last June."

"What?" her face pales, and you smirk subtly.

"That's my reason. My favorite is you in a sombrero doing a body shot off some naked guy in a Luchador mask. Super classy."

"How did you find that?"

Classic Kevin to go hacking around in her life.

"Because I'm Kevin fucking Solo. So, unless you want this forwarded to your commanding officer, Major Velasquez... I suggest you give my guys anything they want. Understand?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, sir," she sighs and hands the phone back to Dean.

She looks around awkwardly before leaving your side.

"Kevin? What the hell did you just do?" Dean asks.

"All military computers are linked to the same network."

Dean gives Sam the okay, and both you and Sam leave his side so he can finish his conversation with Kevin.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[symptoms-syndrome]

13, 21, 25?

13. What is a song that always brightens your mood?

I'm not sure! I rarely ever pick a song to listen to TBH, I just press shuffle on a playlist of about 2k songs I have that I've just been adding to since high school. I really like Gorillaz though they're probably my favorite, and I think Out of Body from Humanz is probably the one I vibe with most lately. No pun intended.

21. What kinds of decisions do you check in with parts before making?

I'm bad at this. I worry about checking in w parts and hold off on doing things and then later do things impulsively. Especially lately. I do try and check in about big financial things though.

25. What is a piece of misinformation about DID/OSDD do you want to clear up?

This one is popular. Good thing I have a lot of opinions.

I hate the red hair thing. "DID is as common as red hair, and you know someone with red hair so you probably know someone with DID!" Because like by the numbers sure I believe it. And I think I saw someone else talk about this but like. Ok say 1-2% of the earth's population has red hair. And 1-2% of the earth's population has DID. I don't remember the actual numbers.

DID is gonna be universal-ish, give or take depending on shit like cultural context or access to diagnosis or whatever. But being in, for example, Japan does not make you more or less likely to develop DID. But it does make you less likely to know someone with red hair. Being in Ireland probably makes you more likely to see someone with red hair. 13% of Ireland has red hair according to my Google search.

Breaking this down in a diff way, step by step by the numbers.

Red hair is 99% going to be a white thing. White ppl are the people most likely to have red hair. Around 6% of white people have red hair according to a cursory Google search.

If you live in the US, 71% of your population is white. 6% of 71% is around 4. If you have 100 people representative of the US population, you'll have around 4 redheads.

If you live in China, which has about 18% of the entire world's population, one of the largest, around 8% are not Chinese (96% of these are white, so most of the 8% is white.) If you have 100 people representative of China's population, you have (if my math is right) a 50/50 chance of having one redhead.

The only reason the math shakes out to 1-2% for both is because they're worldwide averages. If you live in the US, there are 4x as many red haired people as people w DID. I think I know like. Two redheads.

Which is not even taking into account the fact that like. As a population, people with DID are often more disabled, more mentally ill, etc and thus more likely to be incarcerated, in long term psych treatment (often the same thing but I digress) or otherwise isolated in some way from the mainstream world, especially places that have a higher barrier of entry; like colleges where many 20 somethings are spending their days. More likely than someone with red hair anyway.

So sure. DID is as common as red hair in the worldwide context. I can believe that. But that doesn't mean that you individually, in the context of your life (where you live, who you associate with, etc) are just as likely to know someone with red hair as you are someone with DID.

Numbers and statistics are for demonstrative purposes only and have not been thoroughly fact checked. Do not quote me on them.

[charmed-asylum]

I’m writing me a 2k letter and I’m scream bc we got Bucky n a cabin w his gonna be queen. wooo lord each time I see Bucky each movie it’s a new wave of feelings because while most don’t change Bucky like maybe Thor ish change just by a clip u can tell which ones which so when we got this little snip I was ready and girl you didn’t come empty handed. Eeeeee sorry bc bc I was humming some Aaliyah so I’m using her gig for this. Let’s start with the set up . 

There so many way you could start this serious business or just start it with him here with flashback. But you did it right. One thing great about Sam and Bucky relationship is the dynamic between two. Because one gray thing about those two is the difference in comparison between what Steve and him have they both have something unique that the combination doesn’t work out, but with these two is kinda like a rule please start wrong in my mind like a either sibling relationship oldest n youngest . Which goes with the banter. I love it we stuck where only Sam know what each of the two reader and Bucky situation is. Which gives a level of mystery. I love it like only Sam would be flirting charming and serious all at once .

And we also get to see the fall out of how it is with him as new cap which maybe with Bucky giving up sweet eeeeeeee and shit he might not be so open also besides Steve even tho he don’t want to say it sam all he got and of course he gonna feel like a burden but is the answer sending him in isolation with what ever he going tho w a girl in a cabin. Like cabin coco woods banging . Also we seeing or hearing from Sam or this a trap . 🪤 still I wonder lovely set up I feel a new favorite coming along.

The House Guest 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Summary: an old acquaintance calls in a favour, leaving you with an unexpected house guest.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“When I said I owed you,” you whisper and look over your shoulder. 

“Talk as quiet as you want, he’s got super hearing. Can’t even squeak out a silent but deadly with this guy,” Sam chuckles. 

“Wow, that’s gross,” you crinkle your nose. 

“I can be a nasty boy.” 

“Not better,” you give him an apprehensive look as you face him. “I saw him on the news.” 

“Hey, I was there too,” Sam chirps. 

“I know that but...” 

“He got a bit trigger happy. We’re just waiting for things to blow over. He needs a calming personality.” 

“So not you,” you retort. 

“No, not me. I’m into choking but not by him,” he snickers. 

“I can hear you,” the man leaning on the car hood snaps back as the sucker in his mouth hits his teeth. 

“Oh, I know,” Sam shoots a finger gun in his direction. “Also, he’s giving up smoking so he’s a bit testy.” 

“No, I spent eight hours in a car with you so I’m pissed off,” the grumbly sidekick hurls back. 

You look between them. Sam Wilson, the new Cap, superhero, avengers, comedian, and Bucky Barnes, Winter Soldier, assassin, and... mystery. You should refuse. You owe him but that much? A near-fugitive in your house? 

“Sam, I don’t exactly got a guest room,” you cross your arms. 

“Look, if the dame don’t wanna take me, don’t twist her arm,” Bucky sneers and bites into the sucker, scraping the stick with his teeth. “I can figure myself out.” 

“That’s what you said before the explosion. I’m not falling for it again, man,” Sam shoots back and shakes his head. He puts his hands on his hips and faces you. “You’re not just doing a service to me, but to America.” 

“Yes, okay, but this is Canada.” 

His eyes drift in realisation and his lashes flutter, “right, but we’re allies.” He looks at you again and smiles, “I thought Canadians were nice.” 

You roll your eyes. “Goddamnit. Fine.” 

“Like I said,” Bucky approaches, “I can go somewhere else. I don’t wanna be a burden.” 

“It’s not you,” you assure him. “There isn’t much space, that’s all. If you’re fine with that, so am I.” 

“I told him, it’s not a big deal,” Bucky huffs. “But he insists.” 

“I have to insist. I’m the Captain now.” 

“You keep saying,” he turns on Sam. “So why don’t you get that shield and we’ll see if you’re really up to that title.” 

“Alright, alright,” you step between them. You’re not a fan of conflict. Sam knows that and that’s why he brought him here. “No need to argue. You got a couch,” you look at Bucky then turn to the other man, “and you have a long ride home.” 

“Wait, you’re kicking me out?” Sam says. 

“If you stay any longer, I won’t stop him. I said he could stay, I said nothing about mediating whatever this is,” you wiggle your finger between them. 

Bucky snorts. He’s just as bad as Sam. They seem to only know how to goad the other.  

“Fair. I mean, you don’t want this guy getting any grumpier. He’s already such a treat,” Sam smirks. 

“Enough, I just told you,” you wag your index at him. “Well, nice to meet ya,” you turn and offer your hand to Bucky, “welcome to Canada.” 

“Thanks,” he says, though you can sense him staring down the other man. 

“Sam, have a safe trip. You need water or anything for the road?” You offer over your shoulder. 

“Nah, I think I’m good. A nice ride home alone. With good music. Think I’m set.” He cackles. 

“You wouldn’t know good music if it shot you in the face,” Bucky growls. 

“Dude, go get your bag out of my car,” Sam snips. “Good riddance, is what I say.” 

“Drive safe,” you shake your head as you walk toward the house. “I was in the middle of something.” 

You climb the porch steps and leave the inner door open as the screen door snaps shut behind you. Out of sight, you stop to shake off the adrenaline. You only realise then how the unexpected rival stirred you up. You weren’t ready for Sam but especially not a houseguest. Still, the only reason you have this place is because of that man. You can do this. 

You take a breath and go back to the kitchen. If Sam trusts Bucky, you can too. You’re not one to welcome in strangers, especially men, but this is different. And even if he asked, it wasn’t much of a choice. 

You wash your hands and dry them before pushing your sleeves back up. The striped button-up isn’t exactly your Sunday best. You add breadcrumbs to the bowl of raw beef as you hear footsteps on the porch. The door opens slowly and gently hits the frame. You listen to your guest as he sighs in the entryway. 

The house is small. One-floor, a single bedroom, a bathroom, a living room and a kitchen with a small dining table that doubles as your workspace. It isn’t much, but it’s yours. And it’s history. Your family’s. 

You sense him hovering just outside the doorway. You glance behind yourself and hang your hands over the brim of the bowl. You still need to chop the veggies but that can wait. It isn’t his fault Sam decided this would be the balance in the scales. 

“Let me show you around.” You cross the kitchen as he peers through.  

His beard is dark, his hair overgrown and pushed back behind his ears, and tugs at the bottom of his denim jacket. He looks skittish as you approach. He has a duffel bag in his hand. 

“Look, sorry if I came off short. You know how Sam can be,” you say. 

“I do. He assumes a lot,” he mutters. 

“Sure does. So, like I said, it’s not a big house. Kitchen here,” you point over your shoulder, “living room behind you, bathroom down the hall and the bedroom. There’s a back door. Yard’s bigger than the house.” 

“Got it.” 

“So, you’ll have to camp out on the couch but good news, it’s from 1987 so it folds out,” you squeeze by him and lead the way into the front room. 

“Beats a full barracks,” he comments. 

You nod and peek over at him. “Guess that makes sense.” 

He sniffs, “thanks. Really.” 

“Again, not too much,” you gesture to the room. “I gotta finish the meatloaf.” 

“Think I can handle it,” he affirms. 

[atiny-piratequeen]

how do get people to talk about your stories with you? i've honestly been trying for years, but barely get any interactions from any one. i know i shouldn't be upset about it, but seeing you and other writers talk about their works just... idk kind of makes me want to give up writing. i'm sorry if this is like sad or weird, but i want to have more interactions with my followers but have no idea where to start...

This may sound weird. And im apologizing in advance.

But its luck. Its literally luck. Ive been writing for over 10 years. Ive been writing for kpop specifically since 2018 ish. Its really like playing the lottery.

Against the Tide is my absolute baby and its very similar to Ataraxia in regards to the fantastical setting and it definitely has more content ive produced than anything for Ataraxia and yet I've gotten more interactions with Beauty Leaves and Ataraxia in these past two months than im sure ive gotten for all of Against the Tide in the three+ ish years I've been writing it.

People will pick and choose what they interact with. There is no one set formula for it. Ive seen fluff series get 200+ notes in a few days and people happily interact with the author. Ive seen things similar get 5 notes and all of them are likes.

Even now, really if you look at it, for as much as I'm getting asks on say, Ataraxia as a verse, Beauty Leaves is still sitting at less than 100 notes im pretty sure and the like to reblog ratio is a joke (most of the reblogs are from me.)

The issue isnt with you or your writing. Its with people not sharing your works. Its with people consuming your works and then just dropping nothing but a like and leaving, if that. Thats what hurts us authors the most because we are not being seen. There are plenty of people out there who I'm sure would LOVE to interact with your works. Who may be curious for more or have little world building questions here and there. They'll never see it sometimes if no one shares it. We authors can only reblog our work but so many times but if our own followers wont help share it, who the hell is gonna see it?

Most of the people who regularly interact with my works at the end of the day are my friends. Gaia, Laz, Dior, Luna, Smalls, these are my friends who I've known for years. Met through writing. Fellow people who also may understand how fucking rough it gets for authors when it feels like your work isnt good enough when the person next to you is getting all these notes and interactions, yet you cant even get a single reblog for something you took who knows how long to share and create with the world.

My advice, if I can give any that help with the pain you're going through and I'm all too familiar with- (again. I have over 2k followers, and most of my interactions are from about 5-7 regulars and of that group literally 95% of us are mutuals. My tag list has over 40 people in it and again, i get reblogs from at best, 4-5 of them that are not me usually unless something REALLY pops off...then i may get like. 10ish. Who knows)

Two things.

One, be your own hype person. Our writing, our worlds, are ours. You work hard in your craft and whether or not people see it will not change the fact that you work hard. You're doing it. Stop to look at what you've done and remind yourself "yea. I fucking did that." And be proud because come hell or high water, its yours. Plus, if you have the time, posting things about what your writing (character blurbs, mood boards, story snippets, spoilers here and there, general world building nuggets) help pique interest. Its how i did it with Against The Tide (i literally never shut the fuck up about AtT and people began to notice and get curious) and literally most of Ataraxia's world building now is because again, i didnt shut the fuck up about something that started small and kept talking about things here and there and then people got curious and asked their questions and just like that, it helped me refine and shape what was originally fuzzy images and vague ideas. Sometimes being your own marketing manager helps wonders

Two, your writing is for you at the end of the day. 1k notes or no notes. You're writing for you. As long as its something your passionate about and something you put heart into, its always worth it. Even if other people dont seem to appreciate it. Join some nets, make some friends with fellow writers. Talk about it there. Honestly it works wonders to have other writer friends because some writers (im looking at myself) will deadass reblog shit they know their friend is working on in a heartbeat with or without having read it. The writing community tends to look after each other most of the time here so i would say if its something thats hurting and truly getting under your skin, tell the world more. Join and share with nets. Talk and hype your works up as much as possible.

Its always worth it when you work for it.

Im sorry i dont really have any foolproof method. I have a few of my own friends i feel envy for because of how consistently some of them get reblogs, get shares, get interactions. Its a bitch and a half and its honestly something I've been saying for years. Its not fair for content creators (artists, gif makers, writers) to give give give all of our worlds our crafts and our effort and then have to beg the people who are take take taking to do the bare minimum and interact with more than a passing like, if that.

Im sorry you're feeling disheartened, friend. If you feel comfortable, send your work to me sometime. I'll happily boost you up if you feel okay with it. Every writer has their own stories to share and I hope some day people will appreciate yours, too

Pace yourself and remember you're doing great regardless

[cozy-mp3]

bro this has been on my mind for awhile IM SO READY

So modern!AU with Ellie x Black fem reader where Reader is a well known rockstar, shit like the runaways, the pretty reckless, KISS, all that stuff and Ellie is like their #1 fan and is such a simp for them just absolutely over them. Maybe one day reader is stressed over song writing and ellie helps them relax? (fluffy nsfw lol) i’m not sure if ur comfy writing for switch!reader but i’d like that for reader but if ur more comfy with sub that’s ok!! ILYYY❤️

word count: 4k (ish)

a/n: omg i had so many ideas when i read this tysm for prompting! this definitely got way more plotty than i intended, i hope u don't mind! this is another fic that i started off thinking it would be abt 2k words but it spiralled a bit lol. i tried my best with the switchy dynamics but i still feel like i'm not great at writing them, either way i hope i did ur prompt justice nonny <33

MINORS AND MEN DO NOT INTERACT OR I'LL CRY

you’re going to die in this room, you think. you’re gonna die in this stupid recording studio, on this stupid pleather chair that sticks to your thighs in summer, spinning in circles just to expel some pent up energy, watching your stupid mug of stupid coffee going cold on your stupid desk. you pause your aimless spinning and sigh, planting your feet on the floor so you can wheel back to the desk and run your finger down the side of the mug. it isn’t stupid and you feel a little bad for even thinking it, no matter how frustrated you’re feeling, it was a gift from ellie after your first tour had concluded. 

it’s from one of those online printing companies and is covered in pictures of the two of you she’d taken on tour, a selfie for every city she’d told you. it was cheap, because she was too busy with uni to find a second job and back then music wasn’t paying many bills, the printing has faded a little over the past three years and you’re pretty sure it isn’t supposed to go in the microwave because everytime you put it in there it comes out so hot you have to pick it up with the edge of your shirt covering your fingers. you love it though, she’d handed it to you a couple weeks after you’d come home and the excitement of playing a different crowd every night had been replaced with your part time job at the drugstore and playing to the same groups of regulars at the same few bars downtown.

you run the tips of your fingers over one of the pictures of her smiling face, it’s maybe your favorite picture of her ever, definitely top five at least. she’s wearing a shirt that’s a few sizes too big with crew printed over the front of it in big white letters, she’s smiling so wide her eyes are crinkled up and there’s lipstick marks all over her face from where you’d kissed her. you were into black lipstick back then, so they stand out against her pale skin, you’re more into red at the moment and she doesn’t let you kiss her face when you’re wearing it. apparently, there was a time she’d walked into a lecture with a lipstick stain on her forehead and she hasn’t been able to live it down, dina had told you the story since ellie had been too embarrassed to tell you herself. just when you’re about to start searching for your phone to shoot her a text to tell her you miss her, the door to your studio opens and there she is, as if you’d summoned her or something.

“how’d you know i was about to text you?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at her in suspicion as you take in her appearance. she’s wearing a shirt from last year's tour, your face printed on her left boob, below your band’s logo, she’s put on her batman pajama pants that she’s owned since before you knew her and she’s wearing crocs with tie dye socks. she looks like she’s just rolled out of bed and come over before she could get dressed in more appropriate ‘going outside’ clothes. she looks cute and soft, a little bit ridiculous and all yours.

“my girlfriend senses were tingling,” she tells you as she closes the door behind her, rubbing her hands over her arms to get rid of the chill she’d caught walking the short distance from the car to the door of the building, “you didn’t ask what i had for lunch or dinner and then i sent you three thirst traps while i was at the gym and you didn’t respond to any of them,” she says, waving three fingers in front of your face dramatically, “and then i tried telling you i was studying so you’d say you’re proud of me and i got nothing,” she continues, standing in front of you with her hands on her hips, “so i was laying in bed waiting for my ‘goodnight, baby, i love you so much, you’re the best ever’ text and when i didn’t even get that, i decided that i had to come to your last known location to make sure you weren’t being held hostage or, you’re not, like, mad at me or something, ‘cause i’m pretty sure i haven’t done anything wrong,” she finishes, she’s panting a little from talking so fast and it’s a testament to how much time you’ve spent around her that you understood every word she said.

“you didn’t do anything wrong, els,” you say with a smile, just to see her let go of the tension she was holding in her shoulders, “and i’m sorry i haven’t been checking my phone, i’ve had writers block for the past two weeks and i’ve been trying to work through it but i just can’t,” you sigh, holding your arms out and inviting her into your lap, when you moved into this studio you’d made sure to get a chair large enough to fit you both, not that you’d ever tell her that. 

“that’s rough, baby,” she says, her face is sympathetic as she climbs into your lap, her weight is warm and familiar and she’s kicked her crocs off to hang her socked feet over each arm of the chair, “‘m sorry it’s been hard, label been breathing down your neck again?,” she asks as she wraps her arms around your shoulders and tugs you into a hug.

“yeah,” you mumble into her chest, your cheek pressed right up against your own face on her shirt, it’s well worn and smells like the laundry detergent you use and the spicy perfume you’d gotten her for her last birthday, “they want the album done in three months and we’ve only finished five songs,” you say, a frown pinching your brows together. it’s frustrating, not being able to work at your own pace anymore, to be lectured if songs don’t do as well as they’re supposed to, to be told that you need them but they don’t need you.

“i’m sorry,” she whispers, dropping a kiss on the top of your head. there’s not much else to say, she’s heard you complain about the label before, about how the execs in their suits want you to change in ways you wish you didn’t have to. the contract had seemed like a good idea when you’d signed it, even with the cut they’d be taking you’d be able to support you both until ellie was done with uni, you’d be able to quit your job at the drugstore and spend all your time doing the thing you love the most with your best friends. those things were all still true, you toured the world and spent hours in the studio, you could afford a nice apartment with security and a bathtub so big it could fit you and ellie twice over, you just hadn’t anticipated the deadlines and restrictions, the way you felt trapped but the most free you’d ever felt all at once. 

“your hair smells good,” ellie says above you and your mind comes to an abrupt stop, you prop your chin up on her chest and look up at her face, she’s smiling at you with her sympathetic i love you and i’m sorry and i hate that i can’t fix it smile and you know her well enough to know it was an intentional change of subject. that she’s here and willing to listen if you want to share, but she’s also offering you an out, something to talk about that isn’t stressful and a little bit more painful than you’ve been able to admit to yourself until now, when you’re sat in the place you love most with the person you love most, feeling like you could cry.

“it was wash day a couple days ago, i tried a new shampoo,” you tell her and she smiles a little wider, shifting around to get comfy now the conversation is veering away from anything too serious, “the girl at the beauty store recommended it, it’s so fucking expensive but it works so well,” you sigh with an exaggerated pout, you can’t keep it up as ellie squeezes her arm around your shoulders, leaning down to kiss your nose.

“it’s daylight robbery, baby, i’m sure,” she smiles, not able to keep the amusement out of her tone as she looks down at you, one her her hands shifting to cup your cheek, “you’re cute,” she tells you, using her hand to squish your cheeks together until your lips pucker up.

“i’m not cute, i’m literally in a rock band, i can’t be cute,” you tell her, baring your teeth and furrowing your brows into what might be a scary expression if your cheeks weren’t still squished together in her hand. you know you must look ridiculous because ellie starts laughing, her head thrown back and her shoulders shaking with the force of it, her hand lets your face go to hold on to your shoulder again, squeezing you gently when you laugh along with her.

“sure, sweetheart,” she says once she’s caught her breath again, her eyes bright and happy as she looks down at you, “not cute at all, whatever you say,” she nods with a slightly mocking lilt to her voice, she’s glancing between your eyes and your lips and you lean up to kiss her before she can kiss you, your hands holding tight onto her hips.

she sighs happily against your mouth and shifts one of her hands to the back of your neck, stroking her thumb over your skin, you don’t let her take control when she tries, nipping at her bottom lip and smiling when she groans against you. the kiss lasts a little while longer before you notice her squirming each time your tongue presses past her lips and into her mouth, you shift your hands to her inner thighs, squeezing the soft little layer of fat she has there. she moans into your mouth and you pull away to show her your smile, one of your hands letting go of her hip to gently pinch her red cheek.

“i missed you,” you tell her as she leans down to rest her forehead against yours, her eyes searching yours for a moment before they still, “was looking forward to coming home all day,” you whisper, your own face heating up at the admission, you look down at your lap so you don’t have to look at her, instead watching the way her thighs tense when you squeeze her again.

“missed you too,” ellie says, scooching as far into your lap as the chair will allow, “i know you had a hard day, but we’ll work it out, ok?,” she says with an encouraging smile, squeezing the back of your neck gently and nudging your nose with hers until you meet her eyes again, “i believe in you, and i know you can do it on your own, but you don’t have to,” she tells you, “you have your bandmates and you could call that one producer who worked on your last album and you have me, and i’ll help as much as i can, ok?” she asks and she looks so earnest you feel like you might cry if you open your mouth so you just nod, pressing your face into her neck so you can close your eyes and push back the wave of emotion.

“i love you,” you mumble against her skin, not knowing how to express your feelings in any other way, you know she understands because she knows you like you know her, she knows that you feel warm and grateful and so much better than thirty minutes ago when everything felt so frustrating and hopeless. ellie’s hand is steady and warm and it doesn’t leave you as she slides out of your lap, her thumb brushing over the bump at the top of your spine.

“come sit on the couch,” she says, her other hand tugging one of your wrists gently, “i can’t cuddle you properly on your chair,” she tells you, pressing a brief kiss to your lips once you’re up on your feet, “how long have you been sat down? it’s bad for you to sit all day, you’re gonna get bad knees or something,” she says as she lays down on the couch and tugs you to lay in front of her.

“don’t act like you don’t sit on your ass for hours at a time too,” you huff, gently flicking the end of her nose and smiling at her scrunched up face, “but fyi, i got up a few hours ago to walk up and down the hallway, and a little while before you got here i got up to make coffee,” you tell her, pointing over your shoulder in the general direction of your desk. ellie’s lips quirk up when she notices the mug and she makes a wounded little sound before cupping your cheeks and kissing all over your face until you squeal and push at her shoulders.

“you’re so cute,” she tells you again, her brows furrowed like she can’t quite believe it and her voice a little whiny, “stop saying you’re not cute, you’re the cutest ever,” she says as she tugs you against her chest and squeezes, her legs tangle with yours so she can pull you even closer, until your breath is mingling with hers and your chests are pressed together. you open your mouth to argue with her but she presses her finger to your lips and shushes you, “stop being hard on my girlfriend, she’s super cute, no arguing,” she tells you, yelping and pulling her hand away when you try to nip her finger.

you lean forward and kiss her before she can say you’re trying to maim her or something, it also disguises the way you were starting to squirm from her attention, you know she’d only call you cute again and that’ll only make you squirm more. she sighs happily into your mouth as you cup her jaw and rests one of one of her hands on your hip, squeezing gently. you can feel every movement she makes, when she presses her leg between yours so there isn’t an inch between you, when her breath hitches, when she decides she wants more and uses the hand not attached to your hip to cup your breast. 

“you gotta scooch back a little,” you mumble against her lips, resting your forehead against hers so you can look into her eyes and smiling at her when her hips arch into yours and she whines in protest, “i wanna touch you, baby,” you say with an exaggerated pout, “i can’t touch you the way you want me to if you’re so close i can’t move my arms,” you chuckle, letting her kiss your pout away before she moves backwards, her body squeezed up against the back of the couch so you can get a hand between your bodies. 

the couch is a bit small for the two of you and you have to wiggle around a little to get comfortable again but it’s worth it to be able to tug her shirt up and slide your hand around to grip her ass beneath her pajama pants. you pull her back against you with the hand you have on her, squeezing the soft flesh beneath your palm, she’s more muscle than fat and fits into your hands easily when you grab her.

“why are you wearing fucking jeans,” ellie grumbles as she works the button of your pants open, her fingers fumbling since she can’t see what she’s doing. she fumbles for a second more before she manages to pop the button, her fingers making quick work of the zipper so she can push her hand into your pants and cup you through your panties. she doesn’t do anything more than rest her hand over the shape of you, her mouth attaching to your neck when you whine frustrated.

“i’m wearing jeans because they make my ass look good,” you tell her, using your hand that isn’t down her pants to cup the back of her head, holding her against you, “stop teasing,” you say, tugging her hair until she groans and kisses back up to your mouth, pulling her hand out of your pants so she can use it to tug your jeans down your thighs. you wiggle your legs a little to help her, having to be careful to avoid kicking her in the shin since she refuses to move her legs at all.

“ok, there we go,” she sighs after she’s tugged them low enough that your thighs can spread for her, “i won’t tease now your pants aren’t getting in my way,” she hums, kissing the corner of your mouth as she runs her fingertips over your panties, pressing lightly over your clit. she smiles when you moan and presses harder, rubbing wide circles until you pinch her ass in retaliation, her hips jolting towards you to try and escape your hands.

“you said you wouldn’t tease,” you tell her when she gives you a betrayed look, though you pat her butt in apology and pull your hands out of her pants, “i’ll show you how it’s done,” you say, having to hold back a laugh at the way she raises her eyebrows in disbelief. you open your mouth to continue speaking but she tugs your panties aside and brushes her fingers against your bare cunt before you can, any words you were about to speak replaced with a moan.

she smirks, the way she always does when she’s making you feel good and she knows it, you can feel yourself get wetter with each pass of her fingers over your lips until they’re making a slick sound each time she moves. you drop your head to her shoulder and close your eyes for a second, just feeling her hand between your legs and her arm looped around your shoulders to keep you close. 

it takes you a moment to pull yourself together, but when you do you push your hand back down her pants, the front this time. she isn’t wearing underwear and you lift your head from her shoulder to raise your brows at her, she only shrugs and blushes a little, not offering any more of an answer than that. you kiss her warm cheek and then her lips because she’s right there and you can, she moans into your mouth when you brush between her legs, she’s already wet enough to coat your fingers and you can feel the hair she keeps down there is damp with it.

you rub circles over her clit with the pads of your middle and pointer finger, you aren’t kissing anymore though neither of you have pulled away, your lips still brushing together. her eyes squeeze shut as you brush over her entrance and she mirrors the action on you, the pad of her finger pressing into you slightly as you clench around nothing. you whimper and press your lips back against hers as you push a finger inside of her, curling and stroking against her walls, she’s tight and hot and wet and it makes you clench your thighs shut around her hand. 

she chokes on a laugh that turns into a moan at your reaction, resting her forehead against yours as she pushes two of her fingers into you, curling them into your most sensitive spot and only waiting a moment for you to adjust before she begins to move them. her lips brush against yours again but she moans before she can kiss you, her brow furrowed with pleasure as you try to mirror the pace she’s set, though it’s hard to concentrate on how your hand is moving when it feels like she’s working you to an orgasm already. 

“i’m so close, els,” you sigh, you can feel yourself clenching tight around her knuckles, the sounds she’s drawing from between your legs only getting wetter. she nods as if she already knew, her fingers moving faster as you press your thumb to her clit and begin to rub in tandem with your fingers inside of her. her cunt clenches around you tightly and she’s wet enough now that you can feel it run all the way down to your wrist, you smile at her flushed face, moving the small distance to kiss her again though the two of you keep having to pause to moan and whimper.

it doesn’t take long before you’re bucking your hips into her hand and detaching your mouth from hers so you can moan into her shoulder, managing to pant out another warning before you’re cumming around her fingers. your pussy gushes and ellie coos at the blissed out look on your face, she says something about you being cute but you’re too far gone to do anything about it, your brows furrowed and your thighs shaking around her forearm. 

“lemme take care of you,” you whisper when you’ve ridden it out, ellie’s pulled her fingers from you but they're still between your legs, rubbing lightly around your clit and brushing through your folds as you shudder through the aftershocks. your fingers had stilled as you came, your mind too occupied with your pleasure to continue pleasuring her, you kiss her shoulder in apology and begin to move them again. your thumb slides easily over her swollen clit and she grinds her hips down against your hand so your finger presses into her deeper, your palm almost flat against her body.

“‘nother one please, baby” she moans, her nails digging into your shoulder though the fingers brushing over your cunt are still gentle, it isn’t enough stimulation to be uncomfortable so you don’t move to push her away, but you can feel how soaked you are and you hope distantly that you’re not staining the couch. you oblige her request and push a second finger inside of her, she opens up easily with how aroused she is and she groans as you curl both fingers towards your thumb, rubbing against her clit more firmly. 

you can feel as her pussy flutters and her clit throbs, as her thighs tense and her brows draw together before she cums, her release coating your fingers thoroughly. she pants into your neck as you work her through it, shifting your thumb away from her oversensitive clit but leaving your fingers pressed as deep inside as they’ll go, massaging her clenching walls. 

the two of you lay together in silence once she’s finished, her breath coming out shakily against your skin and your chin resting on top of her head. she presses her legs together until you get the message and remove your hand from her pants, her hand still between your legs, brushing over your swollen pussy as she finds her voice again. she likes to do it sometimes, feel the mess she’s made of you, how you wet you’ve gotten for her. 

“did you eat dinner yet?,” she asks, frowning and pulling back so she can see your face when you shake your head, “baby, you gotta take better care of yourself,” she sighs with a pouty bottom lip, you resist the urge to argue that she’s just as bad as you are at remembering to eat when she gets absorbed in a project, instead kissing her pout away and cupping her cheek.

“how about,” you start, the persuasive lilt to your voice so obvious that ellie shakes her head at you, she looks fond now, at least, “let me finish, els,” you tut, kissing her again and brushing your thumb over the apple of her cheek as you pull away, “how about we go home and order food from that mexican place that’s open late before bed, and tomorrow i’ll work from home,” you suggest, “maybe i need a change of scenery,” you sigh, your brows pinching together in thought.

“sounds like a plan, sweetheart,” ellie hums, using the hand that isn’t messy with your cum to smooth out the frown you’re wearing, “we gotta clean off first though, you fucking soaked me,” she chuckles as you groan, embarrassed, and bury your face in her hair.

[ally-writes-many-things]

Where I begin (Jason Kolchek) Part 7 Finale

Summary:, after being separated for three months due to being put on different missions Jason gets assigned to your mission. Oh did I mention that you and him were broken up

Words: 2K ish

Prompts:

Requested: Yes

Warnings or A/N: NSFW. I WILL WARN YOU. DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE BELOW 18.

Tags: @house-of-kolchek

Your POV:

You looked at Jason laying on the ground as you were pressing on his wound.You touched your com that was placed in your ear. “This is y/l/n. We need a medevac quickly. What is your location? Over”

“About three minutes out, over,”

“Make that a quick three minutes, we got a down Lieutenant,”

You felt a hand go on your cheek, you looked down and saw that it was Jason reaching up. You placed yours over his. “y/n,”

“Jason, don't talk. Save your energy,”

“I love you. God, do I love you and I hope you still feel the same,”

“Of course, I still love you Jason. Let’s make a deal. Now I’m not moving back in but if you survive this, let’s go on a date,”

Jason weakliy smiled. “Deal,”

Jason’s hand dropped from your face as he shut his eyes and became unconscious. “JASON! Wake up! JASON!”

You screamed and screamed at Jason to wake up until you felt someone pull you back to let the medics do the jobs. You looked up and saw that it was Nick. You turned around in Nick’s arm and finally let yourself cry. “Who shot him?”

“Maybe, we should wait to tell you that,”

You pulled yourself out of his arms and looked up at him. “Who?”

“Phillips,”

-One month later-

You sighed as you signed the last form. Happy to finally be done with Camp Slayer. You were still in Iraq after a month of finding the chemical weapons but because of other issues, you had to stay back before you could leave. “Is that the last one?”

“It is ma’am,”

You looked at the letter about Sergeant Phillips that was on your desk. You picked it up and read it again. It basically said that he was a double agent working for both America and the Iraqis. He wouldn’t explain how or why. He shot Jason due to him being jealous. He said he lost it when he saw Jason and I walking out of the underground tunnel. You crumpled the letter and threw it in the trash as you grabbed your bag and walked to the helo. Once you got on to the helo, they informed you that you were going to be questioned more about what led up to it. You figured this as much as they didn’t ask you any questions.

You nodded and just sat and enjoyed the ride in silence. The helo took you to the airport and the plane took you to Headquarters in the usa. You walked into your boss’ office and sat down. “Look, I know I messed up. I know I shouldn’t have slept with Phillips. I know, alright. It definitely won’t happen again. I was just going through it and he was there for me. I didn’t know he was gonna go off-”

“Y/N! That’s not why you’re where,”

“Then why am I here then?”

“Just checking in on you,”

“Oh, I’d be a lot better if I wasn’t here and I was home,”

“I understand. I won’t keep you long. I just need to fill you in with some things,”

“Like?”

“Philllips is being charged with terrorism. The chemical weapons are locked up and being careful dismantled,”

“Sir, no disrespect but you could’ve told me this over the phone,”

“I know but I couldn’t give you a handshake for doing a fantastic job,”

“Sir, I didn’t do anything. It was all Salim. Salim found the letter and found the location. Only thing, I done was getting me and two other or well one other person get kidnapped and then get that same person shot,”

“Y/n-”

“No, sir. Nothing you say is gonna change my mind. I’m not ready to be a commanding officer. Now, can I please go home?”

“Sure,”

-

You knock on the door and wait for it to be answered. You could hear him get up but it takes a few minutes for him to answer the door. When he finally opens the door and you see, you sighed in relief. "Jason,"

Jason smiled as he pulled you into a hug, before wrapping your arms around him, you shut the door. You hadn't seen Jason flew him out of Iraq and it was killing you. You knew that he was okay but seeing him with your own eyes was something else. After the embrace, you pulled away from him. "Jason, I was wrong,"

"Wrong about what?"

"About us. There's not a minute that goes by that I need you, where I don't think about you and how much you mean to me. You're the best damn thing that has ever happened to me and I'm not letting you go again. Truth is, I'm not me without you and rather or not that is healthy or not, I just don't care and I'm really hoping you still feel the same way,"

"I've been waiting for the last four months for you to say this. I don't know what the future holds in store for us but I just know that I want you in it and I'll spend the rest of my life proving it to you. God, you're the best thing that has ever happened to me as well. I love you. I want no need you in my life more than ever,"

-SPICY SCENE-

He pressed his lips against yours in a hungry kiss and you kissed him back just as hungry. Your arms wrapped around his neck as he wrapped his arms around your waist but slowly moved down to your ass to pick you up. You wrapped your arms around his waist as he walked you to the bed. You didn't unwrap your legs from him until he threw you down onto the bed and he took off all your clothes. He kissed a trail from your lips to your hip bone, His hands drag down your thighs. He’s sure to tease you as he moves, caressing your skin with the faintest touch that has you gasping. “I love the little noises you make because they’re all mine.” His stare drives you insane as he traces the curve of your breast with his index finger. Your skin trembles in his wake, and your clit throbs. “But I especially love the moans you make when I do this.” He drops to his knees before his tongue drags across my center. Your hips buck off the mattress, and he pressed his palm flat against your stomach, holding you down. “You're the only one that knows my body this well,"

Your world shifts to black as your relaxed and focused on the feel of his tongue fucking your into oblivion. His hands grip your ass and squeeze, making your gasp. “Eyes on me,"

Your eyes stare down at him. He keeps his gaze locked on mine as he sucks on your clit, proving how much he really owned your body and heart. Your head drops back on its own. He pulls away and presses his thumb against your clit. “What did I say?”

You rise on your elbows and stare at him devouring you. It’s sensual, the way his mouth moves. Your gazes hold as he pumps another finger into you, bringing forth another wave of pleasure. He thrusts in rhythm with his tongue. You're gasping and grabbing at sheets. His fingers become relentless, teasing your G-spot like he owns it. You buck under him, but his hand remains steady, pressing me into the sheets, forcing you to do nothing but feel. Your orgasm hits you out of nowhere, like a massive wave of pleasure, starting from your head and moving its way to my toes. You're unable to move and do anything.

He stands back up and puts your legs over each of his shoulders. You nearly melt into the sheets as he places the softest kiss against the inside of my thigh. “Now that I have you again, I’ll never let you go.” He pushes into you slowly. You claw at the bed beneath you. “I don’t want you to.”

“It’s cute that you think you have a choice.” He pushes more.

His hands dig into my skin, holding me steady as he slams the rest of the way. This time, the sex is different. Every touch feels like a promise and every kiss a vow.

He doesn’t stop treating my body like a temple as he leaned down to talk to you. “I’m not sure what I did right in my life to deserve your love, but I’ll stop at nothing to protect it.” His lips find yours and he softly kisses you.

He withdraws to slide back into me, this time with a bit more desperation. After a few more thrusts, you both found your climax. He pulled out of you and laid next to the bed. You scooted over to lay on his chest and he wrapped his arms around you as you kissed his chest. "So does this mean I can move back in?"