#but i got a bad track record of being in love with things named the reaper that turn out to be mildly harmless

[daeniradraconis]

Age Is Just a Number…Right? - Luke Hughes

Summary: Luke. Age gap. Jack being a menace as usual, making sure you're not getting away that easy. Warning: Implied sexual situations, mature language, flirtation, age gap (6 years)

Note: Hey, lovelies! So, originally, this fic was all about Macklin Celebrini and Will Smith, but then I realized—Will is 19, and honestly, he’s just a baby to me. Even if he said he loves older woman. Boy go back to kinder garden. (Sorry Will, love you, I promise!) So, I decided to swap in the Hughes boys instead. I’ve gotta be honest, it gave me a bit of a headache. Now, this started as a quick, short fic. I swear, I had every intention of keeping it short. But, well… 7048 words later, here we are. I got hit with a ton of ideas and feelings, and the story just kind of... grew on me. You’ll probably notice the tone/style shifts halfway through, and I’m definitely sorry for that!

But hey, I hope you all enjoy it despite the wild ride! ❤️ For more fun: masterlist

The first thing you notice is warmth.

A heavy arm draped over your waist. The steady rise and fall of breath against the back of your neck. The scent of clean laundry, cologne, and something distinctly him clinging to the pillow beside you.

The second thing you notice—you are not in your own bed.

Your stomach flips as your brain reboots, sluggishly piecing together fragments of last night.

The blind date.

Luke.

His charming smile. The way his chestnut curls fell into his eyes when he laughed. The way he leaned in when you spoke, like you were the only person in the room. The teasing brush of his fingers against yours when he reached for his drink. The electricity that crackled between you when you finally caved—when he kissed you outside the bar, his hands firm at your waist, his body pressing into yours like he couldn’t help himself.

And then… more.

Your face burns as memory after memory floods in. His hands, his mouth, the way he whispered your name like it meant something.

Nope. Not thinking about that.

Carefully, you shift beneath the covers, untangling yourself from his hold. Luke stirs but doesn’t wake, his arm slipping away as you ease yourself upright.

That’s when it really hits you.

He looks so young.

His chestnut curls are a mess, his lips slightly parted, his entire face softened in sleep. He looks… peaceful. Innocent, almost.

A strange unease settles in your stomach.

Your gaze flickers around the unfamiliar room. It’s nice but lived-in—hockey gear shoved into the corner, a few discarded clothes on a chair. Your eyes land on the nightstand, where his wallet sits slightly open.

You don’t mean to snoop. You really don’t.

But something about last night nags at you.

Just a quick peek. Just to make sure.

Fingers trembling, you reach for it, flip it open.

And your heart stops.

Luke Hughes. Age: 21.

Twenty fucking one.

As in, young enough to still pull all-nighters for fun. As in, could still be in college.

And you? You are twenty-seven.

Oh. My. God.

Your hands fly to your phone as you furiously type out a message to your friend.

"WHAT THE HELL?! YOU SET ME UP WITH A 21-YEAR-OLD. I AM A GROWN WOMAN. I PAY FOR MY OWN HEALTH INSURANCE."

No response.

Coward.

Panic thrums in your veins as you stare at Luke—still peacefully asleep, completely unaware that you are having a full-blown identity crisis in his bed.

You need to leave. Now.

Right?

But for some reason, you hesitate.

Because Luke… Luke is the first guy in a long time who actually made you interested. Who made you laugh so hard you snorted into your drink. Who listened—really listened—when you talked, instead of just waiting for his turn to speak. And, well. The man or more like a boy, had managed to get you to orgasm. Twice!

Which, considering your track record, felt almost miraculous.

Your past partners had barely managed to get you there once—if at all.

And now you’re just supposed to sneak out of here like it never happened? Like he was just another bad decision?

Your stomach twists.

But then you glance at the wallet again. Twenty-one.

Yeah. You need to go.

Sliding out of bed as silently as possible, you scan the room for your clothes. Your shirt is on the floor, your jeans halfway under the bed. You grab them quickly, yanking them on with the precision of someone defusing a bomb. Bra? Found. Socks? One is missing, but you’ll live.

Once fully dressed, you tiptoe to the door. Your shoes. They’re outside the room. You remember kicking them off in the hallway.

One deep breath.

You ease the door open, peeking into the dimly lit living room.

Empty.

Good.

You take two careful steps out, eyes locked on your shoes near the front door. Almost there. Just a few more—

“Busted.”

You scream.

Not a blood-curdling horror movie scream, but a very real, very startled yelp that absolutely does not help you maintain any dignity in this situation.

Your body jolts like you’ve just been electrocuted, arms flailing wildly as you spin toward the voice.

There, sprawled across the couch, is a guy watching you like this is the best morning of his life.

Tall. Ridiculously handsome. Light brown hair, messy in a way that suggests he just woke up. Sharp cheekbones. Blue eyes filled with pure mischief.

And a smirk so unbearably smug that you immediately want to punch it off his face.

You clutch your chest, heart racing. “Jesus Christ, who the hell are you?!”

The guy grins wider. “Damn. Didn’t even recognize me? That hurts.”

“Am I supposed to?”You blink, still catching your breath.

His smirk falters for half a second before returning full force. “Oh, that’s good. That’s really good.” He tilts his head, studying you like you’re some kind of rare specimen. “You actually have no idea who I am, do you?”

“Why the hell would I?” Your frown deepens.

He lets out a dramatic sigh, like this is somehow the greatest tragedy to ever befall him.

“You’re telling me,” he starts, sitting up slightly, resting his arms on his knees, fully entertained, “that you came home with my brother, slept with him, and have no idea who we are?”

Your stomach drops.

Brother?

You knew Luke had brothers—he mentioned it—but you had no idea they were famous.

Your eyes flick toward the bedroom, then back to him. “You’re—wait, you’re one of Luke’s brothers?”

He snorts. “Wow. No recognition at all. That is humbling.”

“Should I recognize you?” You narrow your eyes at him.

“Oh, I don’t know.” He shrugs, mock-offended, but there’s a glint of amusement in his eyes. “I guess I’m only one of the most famous people in this city.”

You blink, a little thrown off. “…You’re a local weatherman?”

He chokes, eyes widening. “A what?!”

“You’re acting like I should know you,” you say, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t keep up with the news, but you definitely have the vibe of a guy who points at maps for a living.”

He definitely doesn’t. If anything, he looks more like a kooky stripper with an annoyingly fit body. But there’s no way you’re feeding his ego—this idiot would probably take it as a compliment.

For a split second, he just stares at you, his mouth hanging slightly open.

Then, as if the tension snaps, he howls—full-body laughter, throwing his head back and wiping a fake tear from his eye.

“Oh my God,” he wheezes, clutching his stomach. “This is the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

You cross your arms, trying to mask the irritation bubbling up. “Glad I could contribute to your morning entertainment.”

“No, you don’t get it,” he says between gasps for air, leaning forward with an infectious grin. “This is amazing. Incredible. I live for moments like this.”

You raise an eyebrow, your patience wearing thin. “Moments like what?” you snap, unable to hide the rising edge in your voice. Honestly, you’re just relieved Luke didn’t inherit Jack’s over-the-top, obnoxious personality. If he had, you probably would’ve bailed on this blind date five minutes in.

“Moments where I get to witness something so spectacularly awkward, so painfully embarrassing, that it will sustain me for weeks.”

You glare at him with pure annoyance. “I hate you already.”

He clutches his chest dramatically. “Ouch. That wounds me.”

“You’ll survive.”

“Oh, no doubt.” He smirks, and for a moment, it almost reminds you of Luke—though the two brothers couldn’t look more different. But that same confidante smile? It’s unmistakable. “Especially since I now have the upper hand in every conversation we ever have from here on out.”

“We’re never having another conversation after this!” You try to sound firm, but your voice cracks, betraying you.

He just grins wider, shaking his head like he’s heard that before. “That’s what you think.”

You exhale sharply, fed up with the entire exchange. “Look, I’m leaving. Forget you ever saw me.”

“Not a chance.” He leans back against the couch, thoroughly amused. “You’re trying to sneak out of my baby brother’s room like a damn criminal. This is gold.”

You scowl again. “I’m not sneaking out.” You fumble with your shoes, trying to get them on while defending yourself. Luckily, the hallway and living room are one open space, making your escape a bit less awkward.

“You literally just tiptoed past me like you’re starring in Mission Impossible.”

You groan. "I was trying not to wake him up." Rolling your eyes, you keep wrestling with your damn laces—of all times to betray you, it had to be now. Frustration bubbles up as you huff, "I need to go."

Jack cocks an eyebrow. "Why?"

You freeze mid-motion, exhaling hard through your nose. "...Just because."

"That's not an answer." His arms fold across his chest, his gaze pressing into you like he’s daring you to crack.

Your stomach twists. Heat rises to your face. You don’t want to say it, don’t want to give him the satisfaction—but the words rip out anyway.

“Because I just found out I slept with a 21-year-old, okay?! I’m 27. That’s a six-year difference! That’s a whole presidential term and a little extra! That’s a—”

You stop, realizing how ridiculous it sounds now that you're saying it.

Jack stares at you, blinking. There’s a long silence before you speak again, but his expression shows no understanding of the mental chaos you’re in.

You sigh and tug at your hair in frustration. “I wasn’t expecting this. I thought maybe he was older, and now… I just don’t know how to feel.”

Jack, for the first time, softens his teasing expression. But it’s clear he doesn’t quite get what you’re saying.

“Well,” he shrugs casually, “you’re still not leaving. You’re stuck here until Luke wakes up.”

“No, I’m not.” You shake your head, stubborn.

“Yes, you are!”

Before you can argue, you hear movement from the bedroom.

“Jack, why are you yelling?”

Shit.

You freeze.

Jack just grins wider.

You turn, and there he is—Luke, standing in the hallway, shirtless, hair an absolute mess, looking at you with adorable confusion.

Jack smirks. “Oh, you know. Just chatting with your date about how she was totally about to dip.”

“Wait. You’re leaving?” Luke’s voice is a mix of confusion and hurt, and suddenly, you feel a wave of guilt wash over you.

You shift awkwardly, caught in the middle of it all. “I just… didn’t want to wake you.”

Jack snickers. “Translation: she found out you’re barely legal and panicked.”

Luke’s eyes flick to his nightstand, where his wallet still sits open.

“…Wait. Is this about my age?" He sounds confused—adorably so. Too adorably.

You open your mouth, but Jack is already cackling.

“Oh, it absolutely is,” Jack says, shaking his head. “She took one look at that ID and nearly had a full-blown existential crisis.”

Your face flushes deep red. Jesus, you really can’t stand that blue-eyed bastard.

Luke blinks, then sighs, clearly frustrated a little bit. “So, last night was… amazing, but now it’s a problem because I’m 21?”

You shift uneasily. “It’s not a problem, exactly. It’s just…”

Jack grins mischievously. “Hilarious?”

You glare at him, a mix of embarrassment and irritation burning through you. “Not the word I was going for.”

Luke tilts his head, watching you closely. “Did it feel weird last night?”

Your face instantly flames. “LUKE.”

Jack cackles. “Ohhh my God, this is so good.”

Luke shrugs nonchalantly. “I’m just saying. You didn’t seem to mind my age when you were begging for—”

You lunge at him, quickly slapping a hand over his mouth. “Don’t. You. Dare.”

Jack, leaning in with barely contained joy, grins wider. “Oh, no, let’s hear it! This is the best! I live for this shit.”

You whip around, shooting daggers. “Do you really have to be here?”

Jack places a hand over his chest, feigning innocence. "Of course I do. I’m just the clueless bystander, watching your meltdown. It’s my duty as a brother. How else am I supposed to tease Lukey later?"

Luke licks his lips, glancing between you and Jack. “Wait… so you’re really freaking out over this?”

You sigh, your frustration starting to boil over. "I just… didn’t realize you were so young."

Jack snickers from the side, clearly enjoying himself. “Oh, no, I think she’s just overthinking it. But hey, it’s cute.”

Luke shoots him a glare. “Jack.”

Jack raises his hands, completely unbothered. “I’m just here to state the obvious.”

You groan, feeling a headache start to form at the base of your skull. "Can I just… go? Please?" The words come out sharper than you mean, but you’re too tired to care.

Luke looks at you, his gaze softening with that same sleepy affection from last night. You almost hate how it makes your chest ache. "You really want to leave?"

You pause for a long moment, considering.

And truthfully?

No.

You don’t.

Last night wasn’t just a fling—it was Luke.

Luke, who had you laughing through dinner, making you feel like you were the only person in the world. He treated you like you were someone worth admiring, someone worth cherishing. And when he kissed you, it felt like the first rainstorm after a drought, washing away everything but the two of you.

And now he’s standing there, messy-haired and sleepy-eyed, looking at you like he’s trying to figure out what’s going through your mind.

Jack, sensing the shift, leans back dramatically. “Ohhh, she’s thinking about it.”

You glare. “Shut up, Jack.”

Jack smirks like a little kid in the candy shop. “Nope.”

Luke lets out a heavy sigh, rubbing his face with both hands, his puppy like eyes softening as he looks at you. "Alright," he mutters, a playful smile tugging at his lips. "Let me make you breakfast before you decide I’m too young to function."

Jack perks up from the couch. “Oh, hell yeah. Stay. Luke makes a mean omelet.”

Luke shoots Jack a teasing glare, his eyes rolling in exasperation as he half-smirks. "Why are you even involved in this?" he says, clearly annoyed but with a playful edge, like he can’t decide if he should laugh or strangle his brother.

Jack shrugs dramatically. “Because I live for chaos.”

You hesitate for a moment, staring at Luke as you battle the urge to stay or run.

“…Fine. One omelet.”

Jack fist-pumps the air. “YES.”

Luke grins like he’s already won. “Good. Because I was going to make you stay anyway.”

—

You don’t know how you ended up here.

One second, you were committed to sneaking out like a thief in the night. The next?

You’re standing in Luke Hughes’ kitchen, watching him move around with annoying ease, pulling eggs and cheese out of the fridge like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Jack, of course, is sitting at the kitchen island, grinning like the mischievous idiot he is.

“You look tense,” he observes, propping his chin in his hand and resting his elbows on his knees. “Regretting staying already?”

You shoot him a withering look. “I regret a lot of things. Letting you talk this morning is at the top of the list.”

Jack gasps dramatically, clutching his chest. “Ouch. And here I was, being such a warm and welcoming host.”

You roll your eyes. “You ambushed me.”

Jack shrugs casually, sipping his coffee. “Semantics.”

Luke, bless him, doesn’t engage. He simply smirks to himself as he cracks an egg into a pan, clearly used to Jack’s shenanigans. “Jack, are you actually gonna eat, or are you just here to be annoying?”

“Oh, I ate already. I’m just here for the show.”

You narrow your eyes at him, a smirk playing at the corner of your mouth. “Seriously, what’s your deal? You get some kind of thrill out of torturing me?”

He’s an asshole, but damn, he’s the kind of asshole that almost makes you laugh.

Jack flashes a devilish grin, clearly enjoying the chaos he's creating. "You're sharp. I like that. Smart women are way more fun to mess with." He leans back, arms crossed, his eyes twinkling with mischief as if he's already plotting his next move.

Luke huffs a laugh, the sound full of fond exasperation. He rolls his eyes, his messy hair falling into his face as he nudges Jack with his shoulder. “Just ignore him. He thrives on being a menace,” he says, shaking his head, but you can tell he's not actually mad.

Jack grins even wider, clearly proud of himself. “Yep. It’s what I do best,” he says, puffing out his chest like he’s just announced some kind of grand achievement.

You rest your elbows on the table, watching as Luke flips an omelet with impressive skill. “Okay, I’ll bite—how did you get so good at this?”

“Gotta learn some life skills when you live with Jack. Otherwise, you starve." He shoots his brother a pointed look, one that’s half annoyance, half fondness.

Jack scoffs, dramatically pressing a hand to his chest like he’s been wronged. "That’s unfair. I provide entertainment." His voice is teasing, but there’s a clear twinkle in his eye.

Luke snorts, barely stifling a laugh. "Entertainment doesn’t make up for the fact that you once tried to microwave a frozen pizza."

Your head snaps up at that, eyebrows shooting up in disbelief. "I’m sorry, what?"

Jack groans, cheeks flushing with a rare hint of embarrassment. "It was one time, and the oven took too long!" he mutters defensively, but you can see the red creeping up his neck.

Luke smirks, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he gestures vaguely toward the stove. "You almost burned the apartment down," he points out, no trace of sympathy in his voice.

Jack waves a dismissive hand. "That’s an exaggeration," he says, clearly attempting to downplay the incident, but his voice betrays the tiniest hint of guilt.

Luke shoots you a sly look, his eyes dancing with amusement as he leans in, like he’s about to let you in on a secret. “The microwave was smoking,” he adds, his voice dropping low, the tone almost playful—like he’s about to drop some juicy gossip.

Your jaw drops in disbelief. "Oh my God."

Luke, clearly pleased with the chaos he’s caused, gestures at Jack with the spatula like he’s just won some kind of victory. "See? This is why I learned how to cook."

Jack grins wide, unbothered. "And I get to reap the benefits, so really, we both win," he says with a cheeky shrug, as if his utter lack of skill somehow balances out Luke’s culinary expertise.

You laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. "I don’t know how you put up with him."

Luke smirks,"It’s a daily struggle," he says, voice deadpan, but the small curve of his lips gives away the amusement he’s trying to hide.

Jack grins, shaking his head slightly. “Oh, the betrayal. I’m crushed,” he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm, though the smirk gives him away.

Luke just rolls his eyes and slides the finished omelet onto a plate before setting it down in front of you.

You look down at it, genuinely impressed by how perfect it looks. Then, you glance back at Luke, a little taken aback. "Not gonna lie… this looks really good."

Luke’s grin widens, his eyes briefly locking with yours, the kind of connection that makes the moment feel charged. "Told you."

You pick up your fork, still a little skeptical, and take a bite. Holy hell.

Your eyes go wide in surprise. "Oh my God. This is actually amazing."

Jack leans in, looking smug...again. "See? I wasn’t lying." He gives you a little wink, clearly basking in the moment like he’s somehow been proven right.

Luke smirks, pleased by the compliment. “I take my breakfast very seriously.”

“Clearly. This might be the best decision I’ve made today.” You shake your head, chewing.

Jack gasps dramatically. “Wow. So staying was a better decision than leaving?”

You pause, realizing what you just admitted.

Jack grins like he’s just scored a win, and for a second, you seriously consider wiping that smug look off his face.

Luke’s smile, however, is filled with pure happiness, as if this moment is exactly what he’s been waiting for.

You sigh, stabbing your omelet. “I’m never gonna live this down, am I?”

Jack beams. “Absolutely not.”

Luke leans closer, his voice suddenly lower, more intimate. “I mean, I’m glad you stayed. It’s not every day I get a pretty girl in my kitchen, making my morning way more interesting.”

You freeze, fork halfway to your mouth. His words hang in the air, electric.

“Oh, so now I’m ‘pretty,’ huh?” you tease, trying to maintain your composure, though your heart skips a beat.

Luke raises an eyebrow, a slow, confident smile curling on his lips. “Oh, I thought that was obvious.” His gaze flickers down to your lips, his voice dropping even lower. “You’ve been keeping me on my toes since I woke up.”

Your cheeks warm, but you force yourself to look away, focusing on your omelet. “Flattery won’t make me forget about you being 21.”

Luke’s grin widens, and he leans in a little closer, lowering his voice just enough that only you can hear. “Maybe not. But I think it’s a pretty good start.”

Jack, completely oblivious to the flirtation unfolding right under his nose, leans back on the kitchen island with a self-satisfied grin. “God, I can’t believe I’m witnessing this. I thought I was supposed to be the one who charmed the ladies.”

Luke snorts, rolling his eyes at his brother but keeping his focus on you. “Jack’s the type to talk about it. I’m the type to show it.”

Your breath catches in your throat. That was smooth. Really smooth.

You take another bite of your omelet, trying to hide the smile spreading across your face. “You sure you don’t just want me to stay for the food?”

Luke leans back, his gaze softening as he gently takes your left hand in his, his thumb slowly tracing circles over your knuckles. “I mean… if that’s your only reason for sticking around, I won’t complain,” he murmurs, a playful yet tender smile curving his lips. “But I like to think I’ve got more to offer than just my cooking skills.”

His words, along with the warmth in his eyes, wash over you like a wave, pulling you in deeper. You lock eyes with him, your breath catching as your pulse quickens. There’s something in the way he’s looking at you, something that makes it impossible to think straight.

Then Jack clears his throat loudly, and you break the spell, feeling a little embarrassed.

“Alright, alright,” Jack says, clearly enjoying the discomfort he’s just caused. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone so you can finish your breakfast in peace. No need to make me a third wheel.”

You roll your eyes, but Luke doesn’t seem to mind. He just shrugs, unfazed.

“Good idea. Go entertain yourself, Jack.”

Jack winks. “Don’t mind if I do.” He stands up and heads for the door, adding, “You two just make sure to keep it PG—some of us don’t need to see that much chemistry before our coffee kicks in.”

You watch as Jack exits, still grinning like the mischievous brat he is.

As the door clicks behind Jack, the quiet of the kitchen settles in, leaving just you and Luke alone, the lingering tension between you two impossible to ignore. Luke shifts, his hands still resting on your hands as he pulls you gently into his lap. Your heart beats a little faster at the sudden closeness, but you refuse to let the thrill of it distract you from the conversation you know needs to happen.

You take a deep breath, looking up into his eyes—eyes that are soft but hold that familiar spark of mischief, the kind that makes it hard to think straight. He tilts his head slightly, a playful smirk tugging at his lips as he runs his thumb over your hand, tracing slow circles. The warmth of his touch makes your breath hitch, but you bite your lip, determined to have this talk.

“Luke,” you start, your voice softer than you intended, “We need to talk about last night. About... us.”

Luke's expression changes, the playful gleam fading into something more intense. He doesn’t pull away, though. Instead, he tightens his grip on your waist, pulling you just a little closer, and his voice drops an octave. “I thought we were past talking. I thought we were just... enjoying each other.”

His words make your pulse quicken, but you hold firm. You need to address this.

“I’m serious,” you say, your voice steady, though your chest betrays you with its nervous flutter. “I need to know where this is going, Luke. You’re 21, I’m 27. That’s a six-year difference. I’ve been through more in my life. I want a family soon. I want stability. Not... something fleeting.”

Luke’s gaze darkens, and his thumb continues its slow, soothing motion over your skin, but there’s a new intensity in his eyes. He’s quiet for a moment, absorbing your words. The air feels thick with unspoken thoughts, the weight of what you’ve just said hanging between you.

“You think I don’t want the same things?” he asks, his voice steady but with a sharp edge, not defensive—more... thoughtful. “I’m not some kid just looking for a fling. I’ve thought this through. I’m looking for something real. I’ve spent too much time in meaningless situations to want that anymore. I went to our date because I was looking for something serious. And my friend told me you’d be looking for the same thing.”

He lets your words settle, his eyes never leaving yours. “After spending the night talking with you, I felt like I wasn’t just talking to someone who’s interesting—I felt like I was talking to someone who gets it. Someone who’s looking for the same kind of connection. I’m not here for something that’ll fizzle out in a few weeks. I’m here because... I think you might be the person I’ve been waiting for.”

His words hit you in a way you weren’t prepared for. You’re caught off guard, unsure how to respond, but something stirs inside you. Something warm, something you didn’t expect. You can feel the truth of what he’s saying in your chest, and for the first time, you start to question the assumptions you’d made.

“Yeah, but you’re still figuring things out,” you say, your voice shaky now, a trace of worry creeping in. “You’re just starting out in life. Maybe you don’t want the same kind of commitment I do. I need someone who’s already ready to settle down.”

Luke doesn’t hesitate. His fingers slide up to your jaw, his touch firm but tender, like he’s grounding you to the moment. His gaze holds yours, no longer playful, but filled with something deeper. Something real.

“I’m ready for that,” he murmurs, his voice soft but full of conviction. “I know what I want. And I want you. If you’re worried about my age, let me show you I’m more than just a number.”

His words are almost a whisper, but there’s a quiet confidence in them that sends a thrill through you. His lips are so close now, you can feel his breath on your skin as he leans in, his forehead resting against yours. “I’m not asking for a lifetime yet, but I’m asking for the chance to prove myself. To prove that I’m capable of giving you the kind of future you want.”

You close your eyes, your breath catching in your throat. He’s not backing down, and the sincerity in his words leaves you no room to doubt him. But still, you can’t help but voice the doubts that swirl in your mind.

“I don’t want to get hurt, Luke,” you whisper, finally letting yourself admit the fear you’ve been pushing down. “I’ve been through enough heartache. And if you don’t want the same things I do, if you’re not ready for it... I don’t know if I can take that risk.”

Luke leans in just a little more, his lips brushing against your cheek before he pulls back slightly, his hands cradling your face. He’s close enough that you can feel the warmth of his skin, the steadiness of his gaze. “I’m ready for you. Ready for everything that comes with it,” he says, his voice resolute. “I wouldn’t be here, sitting with you like this, if I wasn’t.”

You search his eyes for any sign of hesitation, but there’s none. What you see instead is determination—an unspoken promise that, for all his age, he knows what he wants and is willing to fight for it.

The air between you two shifts, the quiet between you no longer heavy with doubt, but filled with something new. Something that makes your pulse race.

“Okay,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “Then show me.”

At that, his lips crash against yours, the kiss deep and slow, filled with all the unspoken things you’ve both been dancing around. His hands slide to your back, pulling you closer as the kiss deepens. Your hands find their way to his curls, tugging him in as if you can’t get close enough. The world around you fades away—there’s only the feeling of his mouth against yours, the pressure of his body against yours, the shared certainty that whatever this is, it’s more than just physical.

When you finally pull away, both breathless, Luke grins, his forehead resting against yours. 

Luke leans back a little bit, his eyes gleaming with that mischievous glint as he watches you, a teasing smile playing at the corners of his lips. "You know," he says casually, his voice thick with satisfaction, "I have to admit... I’ve never had a night quite like that. You really know how to use that beautiful mouth of yours."

You glance over at him, raising an eyebrow. "Oh? What do you mean?"

Luke shifts a little closer, his grin widening. "Well, I’ve had my fair share of nights, but... last night? You...You were next level. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting to be that blown away."

You feel your cheeks flush, a mix of embarrassment and flattery. "Really? Well, I kinda feel the same. I’ve never... finished two times in one night."

Luke’s eyes narrow in surprise. "What?! Baby, that wasn’t even that much. I think we can go for four or five next time." He winks, his tone playful, but there's a hint of challenge in his voice.

You laugh, trying to hide the blush creeping up your neck. "Is that so? You really think you can keep up?"

Luke smirks, leaning in just a little closer, his voice low and confident. "Oh, I’m definitely up for the challenge. You just wait."

You raise an eyebrow, a teasing smile forming on your lips. "Maybe this whole 'young boyfriend' thing isn’t such a bad idea after all... Good stamina and all that."

Luke grins, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Told ya!" He leans in, planting a series of quick, soft kisses across your face and neck, each one sending a delightful shiver through your skin. You can't help but laugh at his actions, brushing your nose against his cheek as your giggles mix with his gentle kisses.

Just as you're starting to recover from his playful assault, a voice slices through the moment like an ice-cold splash of water.

"Can you drop the sex talk, guys?" Jack's voice rings out from the kitchen doorway, dripping with disgust but clearly amused by the whole situation. "I didn’t need to know this much about my little brother."

You freeze, eyes wide, before you turn to Luke, who looks utterly unfazed, that smug, victorious grin plastered across his face. It’s as if he’s just won some kind of prize, and he's wearing it like a badge of honor.

Embarrassment creeps up your neck, but before you can even process the awkwardness, you find yourself laughing. The tension dissolves in the shared amusement of the moment. Luke just shrugs casually, looking way too pleased with himself.

"Relax, Jack. It’s called maturity," you reply with a wink, and Luke chuckles, pressing another kiss to your cheek.

Jack groans dramatically, rolling his eyes. "You two are gross. And seriously, for the future, we need some rules. These walls are way too thin. I do not need to hear you two in action. Thank God I wasn’t home yesterday."

You let out a horrified gasp, hiding your face in Luke’s neck. "Jesus, Jack," you mumble, half laughing, half mortified.

Luke just keeps laughing, clearly entertained by the situation. "You heard nothing. Just a couple of adults figuring things out," he teases.

Jack mutters something under his breath before calling out with a playful, exaggerated gag. "God, I need to vomit. You two are so disgusting."

"Guess this means you're sticking around, huh?" Luke whispers against your mouth, his voice low and warm, sending another wave of heat through you.

You nod, content, leaning into him with a soft smile. "Guess so," you murmur, brushing your lips against his in return.

Jack, clearly fed up with the display, huffs dramatically and walks away with an exaggerated sigh. "You two are the worst."

As he exits, you look up at Luke, feeling that warmth in your chest—the comfort, the excitement, all mixed together. You can get used to mornings like this, even if it means dealing with Jack’s teasing. Or, you think with a smirk, maybe you’ll just strangle him in his sleep. Problem solved.

Luke catches the glint in your eye and chuckles, clearly knowing exactly what you’re thinking.

“Careful,” he says with a playful smirk, “I’d hate to lose my new favourite person just because you can’t handle my brother.”

You laugh, pulling him in for one last kiss.

Part 2

[velaenam]

𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲

                                                                         ◦ ♡

𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐛 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 – non!mc. you are a successful aerospace engineer, a girlboss, with terrible luck in romance. let's hope this strangers website brings you out of that rut! 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 / 𝐭𝐰 – swearing/foul language, strangers, slow burn, talks of depression/mental health, tba notes – not proofread. i want reader n caleb to meet soon.. eek hurry up space baby!! i started a taglist- if you want to be added, let me know in the comms!! love ya 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 - 3 of many ! previous chapter | next chapter

a group of men surround the ‘maverick’-- a beautiful dark grey f35. they study the aircraft in awe, excited to try and sit in the cockpit. your father and another official had taken a handful of the pilots to tour the hangar that housed some of the most prestigious aircrafts the DAA had ever produced, and in the front and center, ‘maverick’ was standing loud and proud. not everybody has the credibility to be able to go into this hangar, so for the pilots this was almost a dream come true. 

“this is my favorite thing in the world.” your dad puts both his hands out, showing off his pretty girl. the pilots stare, silently, as your dad reminisces his history with the aircraft, “when i first started such as yourselves, i saw this beauty first being unveiled. one of the most gorgeous things i have ever seen in my life– aside from my wife of course.” he snickers, “--  i told my sarge that i wanted to fly on that thing. he told me ‘in your dreams.’ and well.. look who got to put his name on the side.” he says smugly. 

“when was the last time someone rode it?” a pilot asks, looking off to the side, your father looks at the cockpit, inquisitively. when WAS the last time someone rode the f35? .. “hmm. probably when i retired from the DAA as a pilot. maybe 15 plus some years ago.” – they raise their brows at him, “is it still … good to run?” – “of course! we constantly update it, at least once a year, or if my daughter is feeling generous– every other month. she mostly runs the logistics of the planes here.” he motions the rows of other planes behind the maverick, “these are the top of the line and her company regularly maintains it.”

the men stare dumbfounded, and one raises his hand to speak up, “sir… how old is your daughter?” 

“shes 27.” their jaw drops, only a year or two older than some of these pilots. dumbfounded at how someone that young already had such an impressive impressive portfolio. “she graduated college when she was 15. she’s been working in the aviation field since she was 17. she’s got a very experienced track record.” he chuckles, a cheesy wide smile spread on his face as he boasts about you. that was his favorite pastime aside from sleeping and watching sports. if you heard him talking about you like this you probably would’ve stuffed him in a trashcan to shut him up. 

“you think shes single?” someone whispers near his friend, and if wasn’t so insanely silent in the hangar, your father wouldn’t have even heard that. he turns to the pilot, his smugness coming back, “you want to try your hand with my daughter? i can certainly pass a note to her.” he pauses, then looks at the pilots again, “i’ll tell ya what. whoever gets the maverick, i can let my daughter know about you.” 

“well damn, calebs already won.” the same pilot groans in his hand, clearly already defeated. 

“who is caleb?” your dad looks around, and the men part like the red sea to reveal caleb in the very back, “huh-” caleb looks up from his hand, and your dad walks towards him, inspecting him.

“son. get in the plane.” your dad commands, and caleb stiffens, before nodding– despite being reluctant about it. he didn’t hear a damn thing they were talking about.

he was too busy staring down, his necklace in hand. he had spaced off due to so many thoughts in his head. he felt bad, because he was in the presence of aviation royalty, and yet– his brain trailed him off to another path. so now when hes needed he didn’t know where they were in the conversation. all he knows now is that he’s being picked on for an aircraft that he was intimidated by. maybe his friends were padding him a bit too much. his head was definitely not in the game, and he doesn’t have forever to figure this out.

he walks towards the aircraft, staring through it. it was godly, to say the least, and as he stared more the manly urge to hop on the aircraft and pretend that he was in a simulation increases. 

caleb eyes it one last time before hopping up on the cockpit. he’d had his fair share from training but the fact that he was on the maverick felt surreal to him. he stares at the buttons, the screen, his fingertips graze the throttle. he was absolutely reeling from the experience. 

“you look like a natural” your father would say, as he examined calebs actions. maybe the young bucks did have a point in always showboating this caleb man. the way he was eyeing the plane in a way that looked of experience. the way he fit in the aircraft reminded him of a younger version of himself. full of dreams.

caleb looked down at your dad and gave him a goofy little grin, before standing up, and sliding out of the cockpit. hes going to definitely think about that for a while. 

“come have dinner with my family.” 

you’re one foot in the grave, staring down the wanderer in a highly fortified and shielded cage, and near is a group of hunters, ready to kill it in the event it broke out.

the testing ground was quiet, there was a low humming coming from the wanderer as your team shifts around, trying to figure out what to do.  just outside the containment cage was a jet– call sign enterprise– was powered up, systems running, and sensors blinking as the team prepared to collect interference data.

you sit behind the barricade with the systems engineer. her eyes shift everywhere that data moved, “telemetry looks clean… for now.” her eyes flickered over the readings, and you look over, tapping the screen, “let’s bring it closer by a couple klicks.. i want to nudge the threshold. let’s see if we can find the sweet spot of when the ai started to glitch.” 

besides you and the lead engineer was another engineer, he frowned as you said that, his eyebrows furrow, “are we sure the containment will hold if the wanderer reacts to the power signatures?” you point towards the hunters near the containment bay, not taking your eyes off the telemetry monitor, “that’s why they’re here. but short answer– no.” your lead engineer cuts you off, “but if we don’t understand how it scrambles our tech we’ll never stop it from grounding us.” you nod in agreement as the both of you lock into the screen.

as the jet started to inch forward, the diagnostics began to blink rapidly– small distortions in the avionics, and slight lag in the navigation feedback. the data starts to stream in, as the jet groaned softly under the invisible barrier the wanderer was emitting.

the lead engineers eyes squint, jaw set as she leans over the terminal, “it’s mimicking the input distortion… like it’s learning what to break?” 

the intercom patches through the room and a tech reports, “mainframes still responding, but not cleanly.”

as you remain quiet, the hud of the jet starts to flicker violently. the screen starts to glitch all of the sudden. the ai was locking up. your engineer and you look at each other, “it’s invading the ai.” you both say, in unison, your internal alarms going off. as you go to push the buttons the plane starts to hum even louder, the afterburners roaring life. your face contorts to annoyance as you stride over to the emergency button, slamming down on it. 

the engine dies almost immediately, the last of the power whirring away softly until it goes quiet.

it was frozen in the room, your eyes flicker to the engineers as you motion them, “get the results sent over to me and print it as well, we need to send this over to the DAA and jenna so we may figure out what they want to do.”

as you step towards the exit your secretary hands you your phone. it was your dad. your eyebrows furrow, puzzled as to why your family members have impeccable timing  calling you at the worst time, ‘i gotta have some intervention with them. whose next, my mom?’ 

“hi dad. terrible time. whats up?” you ask, grabbing your laptop and bag. “we are having dinner tonight, i’d like you to meet somebody.” your brows raise, confused, as your dad never invite anyone over for dinner. “this sounds like a trap. are you about to sell me off to some man?” 

“no honey, there is.. 

–a prospect that i may have… for maverick.” 

you look at yourself in your compact mirror as majors drives you to the family house. you couldn’t help but think who your dad finally thought would take over maverick. that person must be that impressive of a pilot for him to be giving away one of the most valuable jets in the inventory. well not necessarily give away, but it wasn’t something to be trifled with.

you watch as the car gets closer and finish applying your lipstick, straightening yourself out. majors comes out to open the door for you, and you step outside. you wore a red blouse with your dress pants, and your red bottoms that matched. your hair was down, and you had your rings and earrings on today. you always showed out with your outfits, because who knows when theres a sexy and respectable man ready to sweep you off your feet?

you make your way inside the house as you hear laughing, chit chatting. and it sounds like your mother. your eyebrows raise again, confused as hell. your mother didn’t come home that often, because she was a busy woman herself. as you step into view your father lights up waving you over. “ah, she’s here!” he exclaims, standing up. you take a look at the people in the table. it was a handful of men, one of them being the man you locked eyes with at the gala. 

your eyes land on him again, and once again, your sights linger. his eyes never leaving you as you had to pry them off of his to face your dad, “sit sit! have you met caleb?gideon?--” you nod as you place yourself in the seat in front of caleb. “at the gala, but we aren’t on a first name basis.” you admit, and he smiles at you. something in you felt warm almost instantaneously. is it gettin’ hot in here?

your father takes the reins, speaking about all the men in the room. gideon, and whomever else. the only man really relevant to you is caleb. mr sexy man himself. your eyes never leave his, and his never leave yours. caleb felt tense from your gaze. was it intimidation? he wasn’t sure, but he definitely felt a pull towards you. caleb definitely felt some sort of intimidation, but he also wanted to get to know you.

your dad goes to explain the tradition of a pilots hand off. you zone out, to be honest. you just heard this too many times during your youth, and you ignored it. after he was finished you clear your throat, “so… let me get this straight.. you’re going to hand maverick over, because you felt that he was the one for it?” you ask, tilting your head and looking at caleb, who stayed in eye contact with you. you didn’t know whether or not that was hot or threatening.

”well yes..” and then your eyes dart to your dad, who was just all smiles, as if he was stupid. “i feel like that’s… now forgive me–” eyes dart to caleb, “caleb.” to dad, “you haven’t even seen what he’s capable of..”  one of his friends raise his hand slightly to come to his defense, “w-with all due respect– i think that hes more than capable.. he was our valedictorian, and he is #1 in our graduating class.” you nod. clearly underestimating him, but you couldn’t help it. that jet was your responsibility, you couldn’t just… hand priceless art to some… random, because of feeling. no matter how hot they were– especially not that. cant cloud your judgement!

“if you want to spend some time with the pilots, i can see about pulling some strings on getting you clearance to perhaps shadow them?” your father sits back, wiping the food from his lips, you had thought that would be a good idea, to see what the men are really capable of, since you mostly take the DAA’s word at face value. you think it through, eyes on you. as you ponder, the guys make conversations amongst themselves, complimenting the food, talking about their day.

“-- alright. but we have to evaluate everybody fairly. just because caleb looks good for the jet, doesn’t mean he is.” 

‘she said i look good..’ he thinks, ‘not like that stupid.’

as you say that, relief washes from everybody. not everyone was happy with the caleb dick ride, so for you to say that put an immense relief on their shoulder. at least someone, was neutral about it. you nod at them and stand up, your mother swallows her food quick, trying to catch you before you start to walk off, “honey! you’re not staying for dinner?” you smile down at her. you shake your head, and your phone rings, “sorry mom. work…”  you walk outside, your phone ringing from your engineer. 

caleb watches you as you walk out, and by divine timing his phone also rings. he takes a look at his phone, and the caller reads: ‘pips ♥️’ and he excuses himself from the dinner to walk outside. “hey pips what’s up!” he speaks softly, a small laugh escapes his lips, a bit relieved to hear from his beloved (ik this hurts u to read girl lol)

“caleb! i miss you so much, when are you going to see me?” his heart warms, thinking to himself, when is his next availability? especially the fact that he might have even more restrictions due to the pressure of your dad. “i’m not sure pipsqueak, i just a new assignment.” as he steps outside he sighs, “i promise we’re going to celebrate new years eve just like every year.” he coos into the phone (UGH)

as you focused on your phone call you lean in one of the pillars, out of sight, listening intently at the information that your engineers were discussing amongst themselves. as you listen, you also hear the sound of the door opening, and a distant voice, “i promise we’re going to celebrate new years eve– just like every year.” the man mumbles, and you side eye the person, immediately peeking from the pillar. you notice it was mr handsome– caleb, and you blink, before turning back to listen to your phone call.  'probably talking to his girlfriend' you say to yourself in passing, gluing back into the conversation with your coworkers.

“send me the data to my computer. i think i’ll stay here for the night, but i’ll probably be working on my computer.” you pull from the pillar as you approach caleb. his eyes snap to you, and he beams at you, with you just giving him a simple nod. “you guys did well today- have a good weekend everybody. i’ll call you if i have any issues, do the same.” you end the call. 

“whose that?” her voice rings through calebs ears as he snaps back to his reality. his pips asks- a bit impatiently, caleb raises his brows, at the sudden tone from her voice, “oh shes a colleague. general’s daughter.” as you walk past him your shoulders brush, and caleb looks away, his face pinks, as he puts his attention back to his pips, “well.. i have a lot of stories to tell! we have to catch up soon, caleb!” – “i know, i will try and find a day off to come see you. i swear pipsqueak.” 

you look down at your phone and notice a message that you had not even noticed. it was sent to you 30 minutes ago. it was from whispr, it was captain apple. your eyes light up, a grin spreading on your face as you hit the notification

captain apple: hey, space baby! hope you’re doing good today. been busy at work.  space baby: you’re all good, been busy at work as well. what are you up to today? captain apple: talking to you hopefully?

you felt a blush creep through your cheeks as you stared into the screen. you bit your lips, unsure of how to respond. ‘that was kinda cute.. ugh am i this down bad?’ you wrestle with the thoughts in your head, and close your phone, going  downstairs.

most of the men had left, except gideon and caleb. they were speaking with your dad in the living room while you were up in your old room, camped for the night. you had your computer laid out in your desk as you walked to the entrance. your engineer was supposed to come up and deliver you the papers for your study, and you were going to show your dad to see his insight, and maybe the pilots that remain. you bid the engineer farewell as you close the door, the folder in hand, and you walk towards the living room where they were enjoying some spirits and discussing aviation.

“hey dad. i need you to take a look at this. it’s about wanderers and jets interfering? i don’t know if you know anything about it.” you set the folder in front of the men, and sit down. “i had copies done if you guys want to take a look as well.” you motion them to take some papers. “i’ll be back.” you walk off, going upstairs to get your computer.

captain apple: did i scare ya? i apologize for coming on strong! 

you’d almost forgot about the message. you pursing your lips, unsure what to say 

space baby: oh no sorry haha. i had to step away really quick, but i’m flattered, thank you. what are you up to tonight? 

you spent the night discussing with caleb gideon and your dad about the wanderer and jet interference, and while the boys didn’t have much to say, they revelled in the fact that they were able to listen in on this. they surely were taking alot of mental notes.

you didn’t keep them long, and just briefly filled them in on what’s going on, and any possible changes that would be made to the jets, then answered any questions they might’ve had and then dismissed them.

as you step outside to get some fresh air, you lean on the pillar, looking up at the stars. you felt the presence of another person so you turn to face who it was, and it was gideon, giving you an awkward smile. you return the smile. he looked like he had something to say- so you wait.  he looks down at the floor, as if suddenly intimidated-or shy, “we really appreciate what you did. i know some guys don’t like constantly putting caleb on a pedestal.” 

you look at him, a giggle escaping your lips. he is pretty handsome, “don’t worry about it, i think you should all have a fair shot. it’s only natural.” as you step by him he trails you with his eyes, million thoughts running through his head, and before you could disappear from view he shouts towards you:

“are you seeing anyone?” 

caleb finds his spare room for the night and thanks the maid for taking him to it. he fishes for his phone, almost dropping it as he tries to look at the notification from whispr. ‘oh shit i forgot to reply to her!’ and taps his conversation with space baby, rapidly typing

captain apple: not doing anything today, kinda just relaxing. had a busy week. what about you? staying in or not? 

he went to go find the shower as he messages space baby.

he couldn’t stop thinking about you, how beautifully confident you were, commanding the stage. the aura you exuded, how smart you are, especially regarding the aviation world. you seemed so distant, not throwing yourself onto him as other women have, and while that made him curious, he felt a pull from that. it was alluring him. he wasn't sure whether to be scared of you or be drawn to you, but he felt weirdly torn. he felt as if his brain couldn't fit more than one woman in his head. is his head space reserved for his pipsqueak or you? he was in a tough spot.

a tickling feeling was the best you could describe. gideon was cute. he seemed very respectful, but it was so out of left field. you weren’t entertaining anybody, so you figured, why the hell not? the person you were even remotely interested in was taken. you might as well. one date won’t hurt.

“i’m not…why do you ask?” you give him a look, that look, to which gideon felt his knees buckle. his mouth dries, thinking of words to say. he didn’t think he’d make it this far. “i-” he stammers, “i wanted to know if you were free to go out sometime?”  for reals, what have you got to lose?

“yeah. i’m down!” you so casually say, bumping your phone with his. your phone number appears on his, your picture and profile along with it. he gives you a flashy smile before you step into the foyer, whispering a good night to him.

space baby: sorry been busy all night. are you still up? captain apple: no haha you do not need to apologize. i’ve been busy too. have you seen any good movies recently? looking for some recommendations. space baby: hmm. i watched dunkirk recently. i’m a lover for historical stuff or war documentaries.  captain apple: oh! ill take a look at it then. are you going to sleep anytime soon?  space baby: ah no. have some stuff to do, but if you want to keep me company i won’t be mad :)  captain apple: haha, of course, but if i dont reply i might have passed out. space baby: don’t worry i get it, it’s late. what is your favorite color?  captain apple: hmm. orange, blue, maybe red, you? space baby: hmm. sounds like a cop out, but everything. favorite color depends on my mood of the day. captain apple: i get it. what do you do for a living?

you briefly pause, looking at your computer that had data running through it. then you look back down to the chat

space baby: hope it does not come off rude, but i do not want to reveal any personal information of mine. i’m not quite comfortable, sorry!! ... maybe in the future?

calebs smile falters a bit, but shrugs, smiling, before typing back, his head softly hitting the headboard. 

captain apple: do not even worry about it! i totally understand haha... does that mean we have a future? ;) haha joking space baby: i really do appreciate your understanding. not a lot of people do... and yes... depends.. ;)  captain apple: i appreciate it. can i vent? space baby: of course! i’m not a licensed therapist, but i am a good listener captain apple: i feel so lonely. mentally exhausted  space baby: oh god, i’m so sorry. i know the feeling, what’s going on? captain apple: work tires me out lol, havent seen my friends outside of work in so long, so you know. i can’t really tell anyone at work.

unbeknownst to them, space baby and captain apple were just a few walls apart. both smiles falter as they read the message history. you sigh, feeling awful. you knew how it  felt, the loneliness at work, the feeling of being in a corner, you felt for captain apple. 

space baby: i’m so sorry captain apple. i completely understand what you’re going through– i go through that sometimes, it’s a cold world. have you been able to take some time off from work? captain apple: i just appreciate someone listening to me. to be honest no. i’ve always been the…care taker of my family, you know?  space baby: no i get that, makes things even worse, you have this feeling of having to uphold the family together. i’m so sorry, i wish i could help!! if i was your boss i'd totally give you a week off, or however long you need! >< captain apple: you listening is more than enough honestly. i appreciate our interactions more than you know. space baby: i appreciate you too, captain apple! i’m so glad i could be a good friend to you. i look forward to talking to you more. been looking forward to our conversations on a daily basis now.

caleb lays in the bed, staring at the text message, a tear hanging from his eyes, threatening to spill. such little interaction left such a big impact. he’d been feeling so bad, and the fact that space baby was willing to sit and listen to him, even so miniscule was enough for him. he wished to meet her one day, but for now, baby steps.

captain apple: i’m going to head to bed, but i really appreciate you being here for me. thank you so much space baby. space baby: i hope you have a good night captain, i’ll be here anytime! 

caleb lays there for a while longer, snuggling up to the soft pillow staring at the phone, contemplating his thoughts, appreciating the message that space baby had sent him, rereading the messages. he decides to hop on his movie app, searching for dunkirk, and watching it for the night or until he fell asleep.

you take one last look at the data that you were watching, and move your computer to the bed, getting yourself ready to relax for the rest of the night.  after a while, as you finish watching the data collection you feel a sense of sleepiness overtaking you, and as you go to shut your computer off, you could’ve sworn that you heard dunkirk through a wall. ignoring the noise, you close your eyes, getting ready to retire for the night. you had a long day ahead of you tomorrow. you couldn't help but feel a sense of sadness for your mutual. you'd somewhat wish you weren't so closed off, or else you would've been open to meeting him.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ! - @mcdepressed290, @young-adult-summer, @unstablemiss, @britishfailure, @caramelizedpopcirn,

[wlntrsldler]

bad for business | luke castellan

warnings: loser!luke agenda is strong with this one, insecure!luke because of reader's judgmental siblings but they get over it later on, suggestive content but nothing explicit, luke being happy and in love (we need more of this; i'm pointing the finger at myself, i need to write happy luke fics) aphrodite!reader x luke, in an alternate universe where the betrayal didn't happen

based on bad for business by sabrina carpenter

i. he's good for my heart, but he's bad for business.

"she's probably going to dump him soon, anyway."

"she's just doing it for the tradition, obviously."

"she's too good for him."

sometimes luke just wanted to tell them to shut up, but he's already on thin ice with-- well, everyone at camp. they weren't a fan of the smell of cigarettes that lingered on his clothes, or the ugly scar on his face (this, wasn't his fault though. if anything, they should hate his fucking dad for giving him the quest in the first place), or the fact that he's somehow dating the most popular, gorgeous, and brilliant girl at camp.

you, y/n y/l/n, the favorite daughter of aphrodite. at first luke thought that you'd be just like the rest of the aphrodite girls (he's not one to perpetuate stereotypes, being the victim of it all his life, but the aphrodite kids always turned their noses up at him so he didn't feel too bad dishing it out), but then you smiled at him with your pretty, pink lips and luke knew he was a goner. he didn't stand a chance (not like he fought it too hard anyway)

you made an effort to remember his name, say hello to him when you passed by him, and you even went as far as asking him for his opinion on things.

"what do you think of this strategy, luke?" you asked, staring at him directly. the entire blue team was arguing loudly (luke thought their strategy fucking sucked and was a sure way for the ares cabin to, once again, demolish all of you, but he was going to keep that to himself) before your soft voice broke the noise. everyone stopped in their tracks because why the hell were you talking to him? asking him for his opinion?

he blinked, even looking behind him in case there was some other kid named luke that he didn't know about. when he finally realized that you were talking to him, he managed to stutter out that the plan was fine. you looked at him skeptically, penetrating the persona he put up with everyone, but decided not to push him anymore and simply nodded.

when the red team, led by the ares cabin, of course, handed your asses to you on a silver platter, you found luke at dinner and sat directly in front of him. chris, who was just as starstruck as luke that you were sitting with them, immediately scrambled off his seat and mumbled some half-hearted excuse to leave the two of you alone.

"so, spill," you said, planting your tray of food on the table. "what did you really think of the strategy?"

your conversation went from strategy to your life to his life to everything and anything until you two were the last two people left. he was glad when people finally got tired of gawking at you and him. (many in disbelief, all in jealousy that you decided to sit with him) you didn't seem to mind the stares, though, luke figured it was because you were used to it. it was hard not to stare at you.

luke thought that dinner was just a glitch in the matrix, that it was just some weird anomaly that would never happen again. he was just thankful that it happened; but then the next day, your perfectly manicured hand knocked on the hermes cabin door and you stood in front of luke with a timid smile on your face to ask him to train you in sword fighting.

luke got dressed at record speed. chris woke up after the third time luke hit his head under his bed when he was trying to find a semi-decent shirt to wear to your sparring session (maybe one that didn't smell too much like cigarettes). chris sat up on his bed, eyebrow quirked, with a teasing smile on his face.

as luke was racing out the door, he looked at chris, "don't start.''

chris threw his head back laughing, "i didn't say anything."

luke threw a pillow at chris with an oomph before rushing out to meet you.

the training sessions slowly morphed into sitting next to each other daily during meals, then into hanging out at campfires, until it got to the point when there wouldn't be a second of free time where the two of you wouldn't be together. luke could feel your siblings shooting daggers at him whenever he was alone, like a warning to stay away from you, but it's not like he was the one initiating things.

sure, he would follow you around the ends of the world if you asked (or even if you didn't, let's be honest here) but luke didn't want to test his luck so he just went with the flow. sometimes, he just wanted to talk to your siblings to set the record straight.

"look, i'm just as fucking confused as you are," he would say, "i don't know why she's hanging out with me either."

as much as he enjoyed your moments together, a piece of him still worried that you were just being nice. maybe you were this way with everyone. maybe he just likes you so much that he's making up these scenarios in his head.

he tried to talk to chris about it, but that proved to be the wrong decision because it's not like the boy had any experience either; he was pining over clarisse. the blind leading the blind, truly.

and then one day, while you and luke were sitting beside the water, after a long day of training, you looked over at him with an unreadable expression.

panicked, luke immediately straightened his back and twisted his body to face you. he wanted to reach for your hand to comfort you, but decided against it. he didn't want to make you uncomfortable. he cleared his throat, "what's wrong?"

"why haven't you asked me out?"

you would've thought percy summoned a cold wave to crash into luke with the way he was sitting there frozen. luke was looking at you blankly, like his brain was short-circuiting. it was a habit of his to blink and tilt his head to the side whenever he was shocked.

"huh?"

you were frowning now, "do you not like me? i'm sorry, i guess i was just reading the situation wrong."

"woah, pause," luke leaned in closer, inspecting your face to see if there was a punchline about to drop like it was a gotcha! moment and all of your siblings would come out from behind the trees to laugh at him. he found no sign of such a thing. "do you like me?"

"luke, i've been so obvious," there was a hint of embarrassment in your voice and luke wanted to kiss it away. your cheeks were dusted with the lightest shade of red as you chewed on your bottom lip. "i thought maybe you liked me too, but i guess it was all in my head. i'm sorry-- forget i even said anything."

"yeah, i don't want to forget it," luke shook his head, now stumbling over his words. his brain was working again, sort of. "i like you, too. like really like you. sorry, you just caught me off guard for a sec."

"you do?"

"gods, i really really do."

you beamed at him and luke was so thankful that he was sitting because his knees would've buckled at your reaction and humiliated himself by falling face-first in the water if he was standing. he was especially thankful that he was sitting when you climbed onto his lap to make out with him until both of your lips were bruised.

ii. i'm mad for you, it's sad but true, and you know it. you're on my mind, you stole my life and it's showing.

word traveled fast after that. when you walked into breakfast with luke's arm around your waist, the whispers started. luke thought the staring before was bad, but this was on a new level. he felt the other aphrodite kids following his every move, poison in their eyes.

when you sat next to luke, impossibly close to him, chris' eyebrows rose in glee. he motioned to the both of you with his spoon, flicking drops of milk with the motion, "what's going on here?"

"i'm luke's girlfriend now."

luke nearly choked on the apple he was eating when he heard the words leave your lips. yes, he knew that you were dating now (his pathetically hoarse voice saying, "will you be my girlfriend?" after the hours-long makeout session the night before haunted his dreams last night; he wanted to keep his cool so bad, but it just wasn't possible when you were sitting on his lap, all pretty with your thighs on either side of his, lips glossy with his saliva instead of your typical lipgloss), but it was the first time he heard you refer to yourself as his girlfriend. his girlfriend.

"nice," chris raised his hand up for a high-five, which luke was about to complete, but chris pulled his hand away, "not for you, dude."

you giggled and high-fived chris, making luke look between the two of you in bewilderment.

"what the fuck was that?" luke asked. when did you and chris get close?

"this is embarrassing," you started, looking down at your plate of food. you were dragging your spoon across the blob of oatmeal, "but i talked to chris about you last week because i was so sad that you haven't made a move yet. i just wanted to hear his opinion on things in case i was just being stupid."

"why didn't you tell me this?"

"i tried!" chris argued, laughing a bit when luke's face turned red, "plus, i didn't want to tell you that me and y/n had a conversation because i had faith that you'd make a move! i obviously bet on the wrong horse, though, because y/n made the move."

"oh my gods, i'm a loser." luke groaned, tossing the apple on his tray. he lost his appetite. "you mean we could've been together this entire time?"

you placed a hand on his thigh, making him turn his attention to you. you gave him a comforting smile that he quickly reciprocated. you gave his thigh a soft squeeze, "it's okay, luke. we can make up for lost time."

luke smirked at you, "tonight?"

"dude, i'm trying to fucking eat."

luke threw up the middle finger to chris' face before connecting your lips.

to luke's surprise, your relationship didn't really change much after putting a label on it. (the changes that did occur were that now he can kiss you freely, which he was thankful for, and that you were even more touchy with him, which he was extremely thankful for because he loved having you next to him at all times. he was so smitten with you.) he realized then how blind he'd been the entire time because you were so very obvious about your feelings for him, he was just too stuck in his own head to notice it.

he started being outwardly affectionate with you, gaining more confidence while he was on your arm. his favorite thing to do was to wrap his arms around your torso and bury his face into the crook of your neck. he loved hearing you erupt in giggles when his curls tickled your skin. he was drunk on you and you didn't mind one bit.

you even said that you were more attached to him than he was to you (he looked at you like you had three heads because it couldn't have been further from the truth.)

he took you on little picnic dates and made you jewelry that you wore proudly, and you wore his clothes (he would be lying if he said that his heart didn't skip a beat when you walked out of the aphrodite cabin sporting his hermes sweater) but above all, luke loved the way he could talk to you about everything. he told you about his mom, his dad, his doubts and his insecurities, and you listened. you would sit there, hands in his hair, while he laid on your chest. he didn't know the last time he felt safe, but with you, he always did.

iii. all of my friends think i've gone crazy, but they don't know me like my baby.

luke tried to ignore the fact that there were running bets from campers about how long you two would last, but it was getting to him. he'd heard it all; a week, two weeks, three months. he fought the urge to roll his eyes when he heard the jingling of drachmas being passed around when you and him were seen together after someone lost their bet.

it's been two months but people still believed that you two were going to break up soon. the idea of it made luke feel sick. he couldn't imagine a life without being yours anymore. truth be told, he was wholly yours the minute he met you, but after every kiss, every hug, every second with you, he was just falling deeper in love with you.

it was a little scary.

"hiya, baby," you greeted him, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders.

you started calling him the pet name a few days into dating and luke actually whimpered when you did it the first time. you loved getting these reactions from luke and his little sounds (both innocent and not-so-innocent) only spurred you on. when he's with you, luke turned into this mush, always wanting to be held by you or touching you in some way.

"hi," he mumbled, leaning up to place a quick kiss on your lips.

you hummed happily before resting your hands on his back, "baby, you're tense. are you okay?"

"yeah," luke replied, but his furrowed eyebrows said differently.

"no you're not," you walked in front of him, wrapping your arms around his torso, "what's going on?"

luke sighed, "everyone thinks we're gonna break up-- or more specifically, everyone thinks you're gonna break up with me."

"do you believe that i'll break up with you?" you frowned, loosening your hold on him. "did i do something that made you think that?"

"no, no," he said, quickly. he pulled you closer to him, not wanting you to let go of him. "i just-- i dunno. everyone says i'm not good enough for you, and i know i'm not, and it's getting to my head a little bit."

you looked up at him, removing your hands from around him to reach for his face. you brought his face down closer to yours to pepper kisses all over it; his cheeks, his lips, his scar, his jaw. "i think you're perfect."

"you have to say that 'cause you're my girlfriend," he playfully rolled his eyes, but he couldn't stop a goofy smile from forming on his face due to your kisses.

"yeah, i am your girlfriend," you reminded him, placing a longer kiss on his lips now. your lips moved together, making luke's hands wander to your lower back to push you closer to him. you pulled away, breathless, "listen to your girlfriend, baby. i'm not going anywhere so don't worry your pretty little head about it."

there were still moments when the voices of the other campers bounced around in luke's head, but you were always there to quiet them with your reassurance and your love for him.

eventually, people stopped talking about you and luke and accepted that you two weren't breaking up anytime soon (they were about six months too late, in luke's opinion). he even managed to win over your siblings later on (kind of; they still don't talk to him unless they have to but they smile at him now, but luke isn't picky; a win is a win)

luke was happy and in love and it was all thanks to you.

[norman-fucking-reedus]

I read something that you said Scud liked to be recorded and I’m actually foaming at the mouth at the idea of that because it’s so real. I NEED a fic for that. So glad I found someone with a Scud obsession as bad as mine

LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACTION

THE GOOD GOOD: FemDom!Reader x Sub!Scud, recording during sex, lots of teasing, and edging, bit of bondage, your much needed dose of pegging, and scud crying during sex, don't forget the hair pulling

GUYS I LOVE SCUD SO MUCH I ABSOLUTELY ADORE HIM MY PRECIOUS LITTLE ANGEL

I'm really trying to get my drafts cleared out LOL hopefully sometime soon I'll have a big major posting spree and then I can start working on my inbox

I HAVE SO MANY REQUESTS AUUUGH IDK WHY I LET THEM ALL PILE UP SOMEONE KILL ME

The idea of Scud being recorded is still my favorite because I feel like he'd be so nervous under the lens, trying to hide from it and not be seen but he'd still end up looking like a slutty pornstar (my precious pornstar)

also scud in lace. its been on my mind for I don't even know how long at this point.

You sighed as you walked down your complex's dingy, dimly lit hallway, silently hoping that Scud wouldn't be too mad at you for coming home so late into the night. After all, you had told him that you would only be about ten more minutes, but that had been almost an hour ago.

Things got a little out of hand, nothing you couldn't deal with sure but it was quite an inconvenience. A short, fifteen-minute task had easily turned into a full job, one that included running around the shop looking for spare parts. With what you had learned from Blade and Scud, it didn't take long to find all the little pieces you needed, and even a reward for yourself.

"Scud! I'm back! Look at what was in the shop" You called out to him when you jingled your keys in the lock and swung the front door to your apartment open, eagerly kicking off your shoes as you toyed with the little camcorder you had come across, flipping through the random pictures on it. There was no clear indicator of who's camera exactly, but you had always loved photography, so just one day with it wouldn't hurt anyone.

There was no response to your voice, the apartment barely lit and quiet, soft thumping coming from you and Scud's shared bedroom. He was probably playing on his PS2 with his headphones in, loud music blasting at levels you’ve already scolded him for.

As you padded through the cozy living room, you pointed your camera at random things and took little cameos of them, making your way down the short and narrow hall towards the room where you could see some of the orange lighting spilling out through a crack in the door.

You approached, about to call out Scud’s name once again as the soft thumping faded into a rhythmic beat, a Lady Gaga track when you finally stopped short in front of the door, pushing it open a bit and poking your head through, combing hair out your eyes as your mind drew a blank, greedily taking in the sight in front of you.

Scud was in fact not playing on his game system, but rather prancing around the cozy room what he didn’t know was your very expensive lingerie set. An all-white, delicate full ‘angelic’ lingerie set. A satin ruffle top with a waist-high lace garter belt that clipped onto the white mesh fishnets, all paired with lacy underwear that had a large bow on the back, topped with a fair-sized opening that revealed a large portion of his dumb butt.

You had originally bought it to surprise your boyfriend a few months back, but you had both gotten so overcrowded with work that it slipped your mind, collecting a thin layer of dust somewhere you weren’t even sure where you had put it. Scud always got curious about your things when he was rocket-high, digging through things and asking a million and one questions. Now here he was, looking pretty as ever swaying his hips around in the bedroom, mumbling along to the current track playing.

You found yourself flipping the camcorder's small screen open and resting against the door frame as the device started to record, capturing Scud’s fluid movements as he obliviously danced around, brown curls falling sweetly in his face, and skin glowing orange from the multiple sources of warm light in the room.

He really did look like an angel, his broad body looking much more supple and soft, legs long and lean, hips wide and divine. A walking, talking piece of pure eye candy, reserved for your eyes and only your eyes. Guess this camera just found itself a new owner.

Scud spun around on his heels and toes, once, twice, before he stopped, eyes focusing on the small little red dot, flickering up to meet your gaze and feeling his entire exposed body heat up in embarrassment.

“W– Wha– How– How long– Hello– ” Scud sputtered, completely frozen in place as he stared at you.

You, who was now fully entering the bedroom, “Don’t stop now, I barely got any footage” placing your free hand on his small waist and dipping fingers under the fabric of the garter. A smile tugged your lips as you started taking in the entirety of your boyfriend's body up close, his skin soft and hot under the tips of your fingers. “Y– You’re re-recording me?” He knew the answer, but hearing it from you verbally just made a chill run down his spine, and his cock twitch.

“Does that make you nervous love?” Your fingers trailed up his scarred chest, brushing across the lose ruffled top and grazing his nipples, a small whine coming from Scud as he dipped down in order to hide his face, but you wouldn’t let him. “Look at me” You said as you lifted his head up by the chin, forcing his gaze onto yours.

Scud lightly whimpered, desire burning in his gut as you brushed hair out his face, fingers dancing along his skin. He felt exposed under the camera’s lens, so much of his raw and bare skin visible to the naked eye. Your gaze on his body made his cock throb.

“What do I always tell you about playing in my stuff?” You said in a condescending tone, teasing the tips of your fingers down his textured belly.

Scud shivered at your touch as goosebumps prickled his skin, a strained grunt coming from him as his face flushed. “N– not without mommy’s permission”

You slowly walk around him, taking in his full body in the set. “Don’t touch mommy’s things without permission. That’s a rule, right?” You murmur as you stop recording to take a picture of Scud’s ass, definitely filling out the panties better than you could.

“Yes…” He mumbles, and it almost comes out like a squeak. His cock aching with need and his stomach with embarrassment, heart pounding from a combination of nerves and weed.

You brush your lips against the skin of his shoulder, slipping fingers under the waistline of the lace undies. “So can you explain to me why said rule is broken?”

A whimper broke past Scud's lips as your fingers teased and explored his exposed skin, squeezing his hips and tracing scars. "I just– I just found it under the bed and didn't know what it was" Scud stumbled out, heart thumping in his chest as your hands covered more ground on his body, circling around to his back.

"Mhm?" You hummed, tracing your finger up his spine. He let out a moan as chills ran through his core, trembling under your touch as he could feel goosebumps explode across his skin. "Well, do you know what it is now?"

Scud nodded frantically at your words, "Yes! Yes– I know now" quivering as he spoke.

With one hand on his waist, the other still holding the camera, you guided him to the edge of the bed and pushed his upper half down onto the mattress, smiling softly to yourself as you eyed Scud's new position through the lens.

Click! Click!

The electric snap of the camera made Scud feel fuzzy and warm, slightly embarrassed, and very exposed. His skin was flushed a light red, some areas more blushed than the others. From where his cock was confined in the small panties, he was completely pulsing, throbbing with pure need in his gut.

"Do you also know not to break the rules?" You questioned, flipping through the few shots you had taken before moving your attention to the small walk-in closet, crouching down and reaching inside a box.

Scud whined into the soft comforter when you returned behind him, his socked feet barely reaching the rug between them. He could hear the small beep of the camera as you pressed your front to his bottom, a yelp coming from him when your palm made contact with his exposed cheek. "I asked, so answer"

"Y– Yes! Not breaking the rules is a rule" He whimpered, a shudder running through him as his skin tingled.

You smiled at his words as you caressed his side, squeezing his waist and hip slightly. "Good. Very good. So don't you think you deserve a punishment?"

Scud didn't respond, but he nodded his head, hiding his face the best he could behind his hair. You pushed the strands back and cooed at his cherry-red face, tiny whines coming from him as he squirmed under the camera's lens, jerking his hips slightly as he rutted against the edge of the bed.

Your hand made contact with his cheek again, a choked-off groan coming from his throat at your palm. "Words."

"Y– yes ma– ma'am..." He stuttered, trembling slightly with anticipation. It wasn't often that Scud got punished, even with as bratty as he was, so his cock was totally aching just thinking about whatever vile shit it was you were thinking about doing to him.

And you were thinking of doing some quite horrid things.

Teasingly, you ran your hand over the opening in his panties, prodding your finger at his puffy rim. A suppressed shudder traveled through him as his cock twitched, his hole fluttering at your air-light touch. You softly cooed at how needy he was, smiling to yourself as you single-handedly took off your shirt and tossed it on the floor somewhere to be picked up later.

From the box in your closet, you had pulled your strap set, a pair of cuffs, and a long vibrator that you had been wanting to test out for a little while.

Cuffing Scud's hands behind his back with only five fingers was a bit of a challenge, but an easy one. He squirmed a little as you did it, wiggling his fingers as his wrists adjusted to the new sensation of the cuffs.

You shuffled around behind him, cursing softly as you knocked a few things over before tossing a bottle of lube along with the rest of your toys, pressing yourself against Scud as you leaned down near his ear, breath feather-light and hair tickling his skin. His heart pounded in his chest, and you could hear his pulse in his neck thumping.

“Just how should I punish you?” You murmur, trailing your lips against his ear lobe and teasing the skin with the very tip of your tongue.

“Maybe I should spank you ‘til it hurts to sit,” You run your free hand down to his ass and give it a slap for emphasis, followed by a squeeze just cause.

“Or maybe I could tie up those cute balls and see just how long it takes for you to pop” You hum, nibbling on Scud’s ear and tugging it with your teeth until you dropped it with an idea lingering in mind.

“Or," You said as you pulled away from him. "I could just leave you here by yourself” You smirked, watching Scud’s face twist in horror.

“No! No– please no” He pleaded as he squirmed on the bed, hips jerking in a desperate search for relief, cock painfully hard and throbbing. “Need a punishment, need mommy to punish me” Scud blabbed, his body trembling as his eyes darted from your face to the camera's lens, his body coated in a thin sheen of sweat.

“But how should I punish you?” You teasingly coo, combing some of a Scud’s bangs out one of his eyes as you smiled softly at him. “I could smoke our whole stash right in your face”

Scud groaned, “Please don’t” squeezing his legs as arousal burned hot in his gut. “I’m really sorry mommy, I– I’ll do anything”

“Oh, I know you will. Just stay still for me ‘kay?” You pushed yourself back up to your full height, pausing your recording to swap out the camera for the bottle of lube, shaking it slightly before uncapping it and squeezing out more than enough of the clear liquid onto Scud's puffy rim, watching the shiver that ran through him as the cold sensation rolled down to his sensitive balls.

You scooped it up with your two fingers and easily slid them inside Scud, a soft moan coming from him as he clenched around you, almost instantly pushing back in search of more. "Such a greedy little hole, you just wanna be fucked so badly don't you?"

Scud whined and squeezed his slick walls around your digits, "Yes! Want mommy to fill me up so bad, need her so bad" rubbing his face against the soft comforter as he could feel it burning hot.

"Don't worry baby boy, we're gonna get you all nice 'nd full right now" You spoke sweetly to him as you picked up the camera with one hand and the vibrator with the other, resuming your recording as the toy harshly rumbled to life after the click of a button. Without wasting a second, you watched as the buzzing wand glided into Scud with zero resistance, pressing it directly against his sweet spot and causing him to loudly sputter, blabble, and cry out nonsense as the sudden vibration traveled through his entire nervous system, cock throbbing with the uncontrollable urge to cum.

Scud sobbed around his loud moans, choking out gasps when you started to quickly thrust the toy in and out, each hard bump to his now very sensitive prostrate only sent him closer to the edge, hands twitching and pulling where they were restrained as his body spasmed, heaving as his heart started to pound in his chest the harder and harder you fucked him, hips jerking down into the mattress as he tried to pathetically chase his rapidly building orgasm, a burning pleasure coursing through the entirety of his body before–

You swiftly pulled the toy out of him right as he was about to topple over the edge, a confused, strangled whimper tearing from his throat as his poor hole needily clenched around nothing, so full and pleased just a split second ago and now suddenly empty and crashing down from the way you abruptly ruined his orgasm.

“Sorry, my hand slipped” You mumbled, obviously not sorry at all as you teased his fluttering hole with the toy, capturing all your torturous movements through the little camera lens.

The cuffs rattled as Scud whined and squirmed at the contact against his sensitive skin, trying his hardest to push back onto the vibrator while also jerking his hips away from it. He was so high, so hot and sweaty as he heaved from where he was on the bed, shaking as you tauntingly dragged the toy up from his slick balls to his drenched rim, only ever applying the slightest amount of pressure.

It made him push his hips back in desperation, letting out a surprised yelp when you smacked him with the toy, tutting your lips as you shook your head, placing the camera down and positioning it to capture Scud's hidden face, forcing his head up by roughly yanking a fistful of hair.

He whined as a shiver ran down his spine, trembling as his eyes nervously darted away from the lens, feeling his cheeks heat up in embarrassment at being recorded in such an exposed state. His cock was still painfully aching, whole body throbbing uncontrollably from your early treatment.

Scud made tiny little whimpers when you started to tease his hole again with the toy, his hips twitching as he tried not to jerk them back, desperate and craving to be filled up again. His gut ached with arousal, cock leaking painfully where it was confined in the small panties.

"P– Please fuck me, please mommy" He begged as you dipped your head down and started nibbling at his bare shoulder, teasing the skin of his hip with your fingers.

You blew on his ear as you ran the length of the vibrator up his slick crack, a keen noise pulling out his throat as his hole fluttered in anticipation. "Is this what you want pretty boy? To be stuffed like a dumb slut?"

Scud whined at your words, nodding his head and hiding his face shyly behind his hair, jumping slightly when you tightly gripped his jaw, lifting his head once more and dropping it to pick up your camera.

"You're so cute when you're nervous" You said to him as you smooshed your cheek against his, pointing the lens at the both of you and snapping a few pictures, Scud's face red and embarrassed as the flash flickered, electric shutter ringing in his ears.

Scud huffed slightly as his socked toes brushed the rug beneath him, kicking his feet impatiently as need and heat burned through his veins. He whined softly when you pulled away from him entirely, leaving the camcorder pointed at him to capture his facial expressions when you suddenly shoved the entirety of the vibrator back into him, a loud and shaky moan tearing from Scud's throat as the toy easily slid into him, almost yelling when it buzzed to life against his sensitive walls.

His hands curled into one another where his arms were stretched behind his back, yet immediately scrambled to wrap around your wrist when you trailed fingers up his spine, his fingers twitching and trembling as they latched onto you, incoherent mumbles leaving Scud's lips.

As you started to properly fuck him with the toy, quickly thrusting it in and out as he tensed up at the sensation, shuddering as his jaw went slack and he started to desperately yet sloppy push back against your movements, toes curling into the carpet as you shoved the vibrator right into his sweet spot, stars dancing in his eyes and coursing through his body.

"I bet that feels so good huh pretty boy? Gonna cum aren't you?" You taunted as you fucked him quicker with the silicone toy, watching the way he had started to twitch and squirm, his whimpers and cries starting to increase in volume. Scud tried to respond to your questions, but his words only came out as a garbled mess.

It earned a small laugh from you, pressing yourself up against him and dipping your head down to attack his neck, running your tongue over his pulse, and feeling his heart race under the muscle. "Didn't quite catch that" You murmured into his ear, slowing down your movements as you searched for Scud's sweet spot, a broken sob tearing from his lips when you found it. "Yes," He gasped, trembling underneath you as he heaved for air, clumsily stuttering out his words. "Wanna cum so bad, want mommy to make me cum"

Scud tugged and pulled at his restraints as he choked back cries, clumsily pushing back against your movements desperately as he chased after his rapidly building orgasm, babbling brainlessly. He could feel the buzzing sensation in his toes, all the way up to his teeth, it made his head foggy and his jaw go slack, not sure if the high he was greedily riding was from the weed or sheer pleasure, but it had him on cloud nine either way.

Each thrust brought him closer and closer, so close he could practically taste it. A needy, broken whimper came from his chest as his body twitched against you, small pleas starting to fall from his lips as his untouched cock throbbed from his burning climax, lungs running out of air as his body started to tense up, standing right on the edge and about to fall down face first when you yanked the toy right out of him again, Scud whining and basically sobbing in protest as his hole uncontrollably clenched down around nothing, heavy groans leaving him as his body struggled to recover from the way you completely denied him again.

"Oh Please, please mommy, please" Scud sobbed as his body felt so empty and used, desperately craving the relief that he needed so badly.

You shut the toy off and tossed it down on the bed, taking hold of the camcorder and stopping your recording, snapping a few pictures of how utterly destroyed Scud was, face soaked with his tears and drool as he weakly rutted his hips in search of any type of pleasure. He whimpered softly at the flash of light, feeling exposed and nude under the lens.

"It's okay Scud, you've been doing so well for me. Momma's gonna make you feel so good" You murmured comfortingly into his ears as you pressed a kiss to his cheek, pushing your body up off his and leaving the camera on the bed. Scud still whined out in protest as your body heat left his, leaving him cold and lonely. His heart started to soar and quickly pick up speed when he heard the familiar sound of your strap buckling together, small mutters and curses coming from you as there was a slight struggle.

It wasn't long before you reappeared behind Scud, this time pressing your cock against him. Anticipation sparked to life in his tummy as you dragged the silicone through his slick, unable to help himself from pushing back against you with tiny little sounds. He needed it so bad that his body was practically begging for release, involuntarily twitching.

Scud was so close to an absolute breakdown, whimpering and mumbling incoherently as you finally started to push in at a tauntingly slow pace, the lube helping to make it an easy glide and blissful stretch. His head dropped down onto the mattress as sparks flew up his spine, so understimulated that even the slightest of touch would probably send him tipping over the edge.

You readjusted your camcorder with one hand and the tightly tangled the other in his hair, yanking his head back up to be captured in the lens, giggling at the groan that left Scud’s lips. “Come on pretty boy, keep your head up for momma”

“Need– Need it–“ Scud started to babble, head totally clouded and overworked as he desperately jerked his hips, rocking them back and forth to get any type of stimulation at all, trembling like a leaf on a branch when he felt the tip of your strap finally, finally jab right into his tender and used sweet spot, knees buckling between him as he involuntarily squeezed your wrist tightly, nails digging into the flesh as the orgasm his body had been begging for completely took over, loud and broken sobs leaving Scud’s lips as his untouched cock throbbed and pulsated, cumming right in the lace panties of the lingerie set.

The fact that you captured that on camera almost made your mouth water, and you cooed at Scud when he went ragdoll in your hold, stroking his side to give him some comfort as he slowly came back down to earth. “Oh, you poor little thing. Did I tease too much?”

Scud could barely even muster out words, breathing into the mattress as his body twitched, small grunts and whimpers coming from him your hand in his hair kept his head upright and his face vulnerable, tears streaming down his reddened cheeks.

“Or, did I not tease you enough?” You murmured the question softly in his ear, moving to grab a fist full of hair from the front and gripping his cuffed wrists, yanking both backward as you took a step forward to shove the entirety of your cock into Scud, who could almost taste the pleasure coursing through him. A choked sob tore itself from his throat, eyes darting frantically between the wall and camera lens as it felt like pure heaven burned it’s way up his spine, hands twitching and curling in on themselves under your grip.

It was arguably the best he’s ever felt in days, weeks even. When you started to relentlessly and mercilessly slam into him, each thrust going right to his core and sending his eyes rolling into the back of his head, lips glossy and slick with spit as he drooled from the mouthwatering pleasure.

“You’re just so, so cute Scud. I can’t wait to watch our little movie over and over and over again” You said as you tilted his head to the side by his hair, biting down harshly on the flesh of his already bruised and marked neck, a shriek pulling its way out his chest as all five of his senses were at a complete overload, skin flushing a deep red when he felt your teeth blissfully break skin. It was all so overwhelming, the wet glide of your cock slipping in and out against his tender velvety walls was simply too much for his mind to be able to comprehend, hips jerking as his second orgasm built up rapidly, like a can of soda that had been shaken up and was just waiting for someone to pop the tap.

He heard the sound of the cuffs clicking off before he felt the fuzzy material sliding off his wrists, your hands finding his and intertwining your fingers together, pinning his hands down on the mattress to fuck him with all the womanly strength left in you, sending the silicone as deep and hard into your angelic boyfriend as your body would possibly allow for. Scud’s head involuntarily dropped right down onto the blankets, whimpers and broken moans tumbling past his lips as he tightly squeezed your fingers, so close to the edge that this time he really could taste it.

“Please momma, please, please– fuuck, please” Scud helplessly babbled, needily pushing back to meet your thrusts as he was so fucking close, so close that he’d almost do anything just to cum, not that there was much to do considering he was already crashing down the hill, just needing a few more rough thrusts of your hips before his tap was finally popped, an explosion of fizzy stickiness exploding right in his gut, his second orgasm spilling right into the already soiled underwear, seeping through and dripping down onto the floor.

Scud went totally limp where he laid face down on the bed, breathing heavily as he twitched and tried to come down from such an earth shattering high, whining softly when you pulled out.

Tiny kisses were planted all over his face, neck, and shoulders, you gently brushing his hair out his face and unsticking it from his sweaty forehead. “You okay?”

Scud nodded, with his eyes half-lidded and a content smile tugging at his lips. “Mhmm”

“Did you learn your lesson?” You asked, pulling the bra strap and letting it snap against Scud’s flesh, a small grunt leaving him as his skin burned. “Yes ma’am…” He grumbled out, feet dangling off the bed.

You smiled softly, kissing him right below his eye. “Good baby. Now let’s get you all squeaky clean and cozy for bed, then we can find a way to put our special show on the TV for only our eyes to see” You said with a hint of mischief in your tone, reaching for the camcorder and stopping your recording once and for all.

Whoa. Did Norman fucking reedus just fucking finish something. Did Normam fucking reedus just post something. Whoa. How crazy even is that.

ANYWAYS 😝 yes guys I still love Scud he's still my angel boy and be always will be I love the part of the fic where my peenar goes inside his body thats the best part hands down I love to fuck men with my lady peenar

One fic at a time guys 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ I have a few others that eeerm should get posted soon… dont get your hopes up (because mine are already up and that's a problem)

IF YOU SEE TYPOS NO UOU DONNNT 😭 MY GRAMMARLY IS ON MY COMPUTER AND THE APP IS GARBAGE ON MY PHONE PLEASE STOP THIS MADNESS

I was gonna end this with the cam corder MaGiCaLlYy disappearing 👁️ but that's for another fic 🙂‍↕️ (that ill end up never writing)

[silyabeeodess]

So, these aren't really theories (I guess except the last one, but I don't feel like I'm adding much to what's already out there), just things that have kind of stuck in my head that I want to get down somewhere after Chapter Four's release. None of them are really worth their own post, so I'm just gonna note them each below. The subheadings are as follows: 'False Justification and Unrestrained Evil,' 'The Importance of Kevin Barnes,' and '"Love" with Limits.'

False Justification and Unrestrained Evil

Throughout the game, we've seen several of its villainous characters try to justify the experiments "in the name of science" or in "how it can one day help a lot of people," but nowhere near as much as in this chapter. This chapter showed us cases such as how Stella Greyber got involved with them despite her supposed love for kids, how security staff members who were both aware and unaware of the truth behind the experiments would abuse the toys, and how Warrenbach Construction was pushed into maintaining its contract despite Mr. Silver's concerns over what they were building. Each of these times, all of the adults try to come up with some reason for the evils they're involved with - and even though some of them were rightfully fearful of their own lives, I will go so far as to call out all of them for being wrong.

Starting off with Stella, yes, we can say she "loves kids," but that "love" never goes behind her own desires. Reflecting on her tape all the way back in Chapter One, when she first interviews to get into the company, we already see that she has an obsession with the idea of youth. Quote: "I don't think anyone ever really feels like an adult. Your body, just gets older and older... and then you die." It's important to note that no one prompted her on this issue: She was just asked why she wanted to join Playtime and volunteered these thoughts. Even the interviewer is put-off by her remarks, telling her that they were "getting off track."

This is important because it tells us why she gives in so easily when she finds out about the experiments. She's not doing it because "it'll help out a lot of kids someday." She's doing it because the end result is something she personally desires: Effective immortality. Note that, when speaking to Leith in her VHS found in Chapter Four, she doesn't ask about the failed experiments (as if anyone could avoid seeing the literal mountains of bodies at the Prison's front entrance) or the treatment of the kids involved, she asks "Do they know when it will be ready?" Her rationalizing that "it'll help a lot of kids too" is just a flimsy excuse to spare herself from feeling guilty. For an irl comparison, her behavior and that of the other scientists who follow this justification isn't really all that different from people who murder and steal organs to sell on the black market or doctors that let registered donors under their care die--all under the idea of "saving lives."

People have and continue to donate their bodies to science. Playtime Co. could've focused on that. Even in the events of the story itself, we see individuals like Thomas Clark from the Bron video on MOB's YouTube channel willingly let themselves be turned into toys--a fact that the other toys are very much aware of and understandably infuriated by. The orphanage just gave the scientists a means of hurrying their experiments along with an endless supply of bodies no one would know went missing.

You can say maybe Stella didn't know about just how bad the Prison was, but I don't give her a pass there either. Knowing about the experiments, going out of her way to even make recordings for the kids who undergo them in attempt to calm them down, yet somehow never paying attention to how they were treated is, in the very least, willful blindness. That, and since the toys were already being used around the factory as slave labor, she doesn't get to make excuses: She would've seen them all the time, particularly the ones in Playcare. She is just as guilty as the other executives, and the fact that she pretends to care despite this, acting as one of the many "gentle voices" that Kevin talks about, makes it even worse.

The matter of the prison guards is a little more to the point. Some of them didn't know anything about the toys being anything other than monsters, as seen in Cole's notes: They followed a "you hurt us, so we'll hurt you," mindset, which while understandable, is never justified. Some guards, however, like in one of the first VHS tapes found in the prison, did already know that the toys were kids--hearing them cry out for their parents or consulars and comparing them to their own children. These individuals are just plain vile. They ignored the horrors that the toys were going through because of their own "struggles" dealing with them. These workers were callous and completely lacked empathy, evidence we see in employees on other teams as well such as the ones on clean-up from the Theatre Incident.

Now to Warrenbach, we can give them some leeway since their lives were threatened. They themselves are also victims of Playtime... but we have to note that it wasn't like they didn't have options either. In Mr. Silver's case, his life was in immediate danger--so, yes, the logical thing to do to save himself was to play along with Eddie's wishes. Key words here: "Play along." Here's a little fun fact: There is no company on this planet that can make you commit a crime. For all of Eddie's talk about the contract, in the eyes of the law, it would be nothing more than a worthless scrap of a paper--and that's not even getting into the matter of morality clauses, something that has regularly been used--and, granted, abused--to break contracts. If I were Mr. Silver, or even just a standard construction hand capable of sneaking a camera in, I would've been keeping receipts. Were they too scared to take Playtime to court? Fair enough, but how about the press? In the very least, you don't think prison blueprints would've raised a few more eyebrows and get people asking questions that Playtime didn't need? One of the worst things a person can say to themselves in a situation is, "There's nothing I can do to fix it." There's almost always something you can do, no matter how small. Giving into fear or ignoring a problem because "you can't do anything" may not be a stance many people can blame you for taking, but it is the exact kind of mindset that allows villains to thrive.

All of the adults in this series failed the kids by trying to justify their sins with these excuses. Even still, all of that doesn't even scrape the surface of Dr. Sawyer's unrestrained evil. Don't get me wrong: He makes the same "for science" excuse that the rest of his team do. However, there's also a lot that he openly admits to doing "because it amuses him." The biggest example of this is Yarnaby, who he treats as a pet, among many of the other toys as well--specifically the Nightmare Critters. A post of MOB's explains that the Nightmare and Smiling Critters once got along well, but "not anymore." It seems odd to say that all of one type of toy simply defaulted to the Prototype's side. Another thing worth noting is that, unlike the Smiling Critters, all of the Nightmares are shown to be feral by the events of the game. I wouldn't be surprised if this was Sawyer's doing. For the experiments, he may have wanted the toys to have intelligence, but the same couldn't be said for his own, personal playthings.

He's done plenty of other acts that have nothing to do with the experiments as well. He had Boxy Boo's appetite "tailored to human flesh," and while yes, this was a way to get rid of witnesses... he could've just as easily have done that by sending their body to the labs. During the Theater Incident tape, one member of the clean-up team notes that he doesn't understand why Sawyer wouldn't cover up his involvement. It's not a matter of Sawyer thinking he's in the right or that he's acting on some greater purpose: He just doesn't care. The only things that Sawyer cares about are what piques his curiosity at any given moment--and the only thing that stops him is the fact that he overestimated his worth to Playtime. Up until then, Sawyer was the embodiment of actions without facing consequences.

The Importance of Kevin Barnes

There's been enough critiques going into how Kevin is labeled a "problem child" both in and out of the story, so I won't get into that here. All I'll say on the issue that I also don't agree with that label. Instead, I'd much rather focus on what makes Kevin's role so pivotal among the three boys used to create Doey. There's a quote from the 2000's Teen Titans cartoon that keeps coming back to me when I think about him: "Having that thing inside you doesn't make you an animal. Knowing when to let it out is what makes you a man."  We can say this for Doey "letting Kevin out," but we can also say this for Kevin himself when it comes to his aggression.

Before I really get into this topic, let me point out one thing I don't think a lot of people considered. For the most part when it comes to Doey's actions, people tend to place Kevin only in the steering wheel at Doey's most aggressive/untrusting moments. Despite this, there's one more time I think we see Kevin's true self shine though, and that's in Doey's final tape. When Doey talks about his decision not to leave the factory, he says the other toys, "mean a lot to him... a lot more than [he] thought they did." This line can't easily be applied to Jack or Matthew. Jack wasn't from the orphanage, but his personality is already plenty bubbly and loving. Matthew would've already cared: He already saw himself as responsible for the well-being of others and wouldn't shut down his emotions. But a kid like Kevin? A kid that was known for getting into fights with his friends and having rocky relationships? That backstory fits this line to a tee. While he was forced to become part of Doey, Kevin came to accept that he cared. Kevin's personality doesn't just come out when Doey's angry: As much credit as we give to Matthew for this, Kevin comes out when Doey needs to protect those around him.

We see two bits of evidence for this. First, is our own meeting with Doey. Pianosaurous tries to attack the Player and Doey destroyed Painosaurous in one of the most gruesome ways possible. The second example is in the murals in Safe Haven. I don't think it can be seen very easily, but in the mural with Doey's arms extended around the other toys, he's drawn with an angry face--the face we associate with Kevin.

One of the reasons Kevin was chosen to become part of Doey was because of his high scores in "mental fortitude." This means that, while Kevin is aggressive, he's also the one who can best handle high-stress situations. Jack was just a small kid with no clue what happened to himself and would've lacked the ability to regulate his emotions like someone older could. Matthew was a peacemaker, but was someone who had already been traumatized due to losing his parents in an accident, which made him fall back on his own sense of guilt and insecurities. Kevin was someone who can put all of that aside to act fast when he needed to. He was a fighter, and I strongly believe that that fighter's instinct is what allowed Doey to be as strong a leader and protector as he was.

Everyone has the capacity for violence. Kevin being aggressive wasn't a flaw: He just needed to learn how to temper that aggression into a tool that could defend others instead of hurt them. The tragedy of his character is that he had to learn that all on his own and in the worst kind of circumstances.

"Love" with Limits

While this theme is echoed with Stella and the security guards who have kids of their own, the character I'd really like to cover with this is Elliot Ludwig. What I'll go into here follows the theory that Elliot became the Prototype, and my reasoning for supporting this theory rests largely in how the Prototype acts toward Poppy. Even when under the guise of "Ollie," he talks to her like a parent would. When he wants Poppy to explain what "the bad men" did to her in one of the VHS tapes, he prods her with the typical lines like "Is there something you need to talk about?" and "There's more to this you're not telling me." He's not really even pretending to talk like a kid: This is how a mom or dad talks, sitting on the end of your bed and refusing to leave until you give them an answer. We also have his reminder of "what he and Poppy are" and his insistence that "she come home"--back to the case, in the room connected directly to Elliot's office.

If the Prototype is Elliot, I think it goes without saying that Elliot loved his daughter. Despite how much he stressed the need to care for others and the formation of the orphanage, however... I think Elliot's idea of love had its limits. For one thing, the experiments seem to have been going on a long while, including during the time that Elliot was in control of the company. We find a report for Experiment 814 on his desk, and while that one only alluded to the possibility of involving humans, there's one more bit of evidence we need to consider: The Poppy dolls themselves. By the time we get to the factory, while Poppy is shown in advertising, we don't see any more of her dolls having been in production by the time the place shutdown. Nevertheless, we know there were more besides our Poppy at one point due to their advertisement and maintenance video. The latter is what's most important, because it shows that organs/blood were used in the toy at a very early point in the company's history. I can't find where exactly I remember this from, but I believe there was also a notice from Playtime insisting that customers not repair the dolls on their own and instead send them back to the company--likely to avoid this discovery. (If someone remembers where, please feel free to link it. Every time I look it up, all I really get is shopping pages...)

There is a good chance that Elliot was framed with the kid in the duffle bag situation, but I think it's equally as likely he experimented on others before Poppy's success. He cares about his daughter, not necessarily kids as a whole. Playcare being built underground was already fishy, something that Rich brings up in one of his tapes when he points out that the kids deserve real sunlight. The Prototype may have saved Theo, but he's also the reason Theo nearly died. There were teenagers in Playcare he could've gone to. There were caretakers at the orphanage who genuinely loved the kids and would likely fight to protect them, not to mention other employees who wanted to expose the company. Instead of turning to them, people who were far more capable of using a grabpack and/or with more access around the factory, he picked an isolated seven-year-old, someone easy to manipulate. There were kids from the orphanage who grew out of the program and added on as factory employees, just like how some of the caretakers wanted Matthew as part of their staff: The Prototype thought nothing of slaughtering them too during the Hour of Joy. And we could go on and on about all the evils the Prototype committed against the toys themselves.

Elliot/the Prototype may have shown the other kids love... when they were useful and obeyed him. Even his love for Poppy is twisted in this way. While locking her in the case can be seen as putting her in "time out," it's also treating her as an object to be shelved--ironically, just like how the Prison itself is called, "The Shelf." Like the prison cubes, there's barely any room to move in the case, little to no comfort, and nothing to occupy your time but your own thoughts in the darkness. It's abuse. He also shows no remorse for murdering his daughter's friends, scolding her for "missing the point" when she's grieving directly because of his actions. Whether he sees it or not, despite his protests that Poppy isn't a "thing" to him, he's treating her as one: A thing that's thoughts and emotions are to be disregarded, a toy that's always meant to be a sweet, obedient child.

[seriesxwriting]

Have another Damon request.

He’s jealous after hearing you and Mason has a date tonight and he hates the idea of Mason being with you so secretly heads to the grill to snoop on your date but is extremely angry to see reader has been stood up by Mason so Damon ends up dating her.

I love this idea thank you! (I’m sorry it took so long).

Jealously wanting you

Series- the vampire diaries

Pairing- damon x Fem!Reader

Summary- request! Damon doesn’t like the idea of you going on a date with Mason. And so he follows you. But it works out in your favour anyway. Who wants Mason when they can have Damon Salvatore?

Warnings- small kiss, swearing, talks of heartbreak.

Requests are always open <3

“No! Do you remember when that girl threw her drink over you when you told her your car was in the shop and you couldn’t drive her home” I hysterically laughed on the Salvatore sofa. Caroline, Elena, Bonnie, Alaric, Tyler, jeramy and Stefan all burst out laughing at Damon’s expense. But even he giggled a bit. “She was crazy, it was lucky I didn’t go home with her, she might have smothered me in my sleep” he added making everyone laugh again.

“I love that we can just sit here and talk about things like this” Elena smiled looking around. “Life has normality now- no one’s after us- we’re just laughing together”. Caroline took Elenas hand giving her a big smile. “Talking about normality- I have a date” I smiled at the girls whose eyes lit up with excitement. “What the hell do you mean date” Damon jerked his head backwards. He was sitting next to me and we were across from the girls, so I swivelled my head round to him.

“Where’d that attitude come from” I laughed shaking my head. “Oh” Tyler burst out after it was obvious he’d been racking his brain. “Did my dear uncle finally grow some balls to ask you out?” Tyler questioned raising an eyebrow. “Yeah” I nodded my head giggling. “Mason” Damon frowned after spitting out his name as if he was the ugliest guy on the planet. “I’m not sure how I really feel about it- he doesn’t have the best track record but- we’ll see how it goes” I shrugged being optimistic. “Where? When?” Elena exclaimed excitedly. “Um 8 tonight- at the grill”“Tonight!” Damon burst out for the third time.

“What the hell is wrong with you” Alaric asked his best friend. “Nothing- but you can do better than a werewolf” he muttered the last words part to himself. However most people here had supernatural hearing, and so did Tyler. “What the hell is that supposed to mean” he snarled at Damon with fire in his eyes. “Exactly what I just said” he responded with a neutral tone.

“Stop it” I blurted out, “i don’t want a big deal made- it’s just a date it might not even pan out to be anything” I told him getting up off the sofa. “I’m going home, I have to get ready” “I’ll walk you out” Elena smiled jumping up. “Bye y/n” everyone waved as Elena put her arm around mine and linked them. I noticed Damon was the only one who didn’t say goodbye. He just stared at me.

I’d speak about it to him later but now I’d just ignore his behaviour. I had other things on my mind. “I think it’s so great you’ve gotten back out there y/n- after your heart was broken you were so against it” Elena told me as we exited the room. “Don’t get too excited, like I said I’m not a hundred percent sure I even like him” I shrugged not making it a big deal. I didn’t want everyone to have some sort of high expectation. “Can I ask you something?” Elena smiled as we got to the front door and stopped walking.

“Sure” “seems you have a date I thought now would be the best time to ask… you and Damon” she began looking at me with a weary face. “Is anything going on between you two?”. My head jerked back as confusion sank in. “Me and Damon? No” I laughed out behind my hand. “Why would you ever think that?”. Elena was clearly happy with the answer I gave her which kind of made me regret saying no. Maybe I wanted a thing with Damon, he was handsome and funny and I love a bad boy.

However there was not something going on between us. “Oh I dunno- just the way you two are together sometimes- the flirting, the way you two look at each other” Elena answered in a hushed tone. “Oh” I replied, completely unsure of how to take her comment. “But if there’s nothing going on- and I’m not stepping on your toes, I’d like to ask him out tonight” she wiggled her eyebrows, I gave her the best fake smile I could and leaned into hug her just so she wouldn’t catch on and i could stop acting like I wasn’t jealous. “Good luck girl” I whispered to her, “and you y/n- hope he treats you like the princess you are” she rubbed my back.

I pulled away and waved her off as I left the Salvatore household and got into my car. And Elena closed the door behind me.

She wondered back into the living room bouncing with the feeling of excitement about her new information regarding Damon. However his face was missing from the room when she got there. “Where’d Damon go?” She asked as all the happiness drained out of her. “He said he had an errand to run” Alaric rolled his eyes shrugging.

I made it home and showered to get ready for my date. I put on a dark purple dress which yes, made my girls look nice. If I undone the top button they really popped but I’d save that for a second date maybe. As I was getting ready to leave the nerves sank in as well as the excitement for a new person and experience. I hadn’t been on a date in a long time however I hadn’t been ready for a long time. But I was now, everything in my life was stable apart from my love life. And my sex life. I pulled up at the grill at about ten to eight, fashionably early.

“Hey- I’m meeting someone here um table for Lockwood?” I asked the woman in uniform at the front of the restaurant. “Umm oh yes I see the table- however he’s not here yet miss, I can seat you if you’d like” she smiled up at me from her iPad. “Oh that’s fine I’m a little early anyway- thank you” I nodded waiting for her to show me the way. I sat down at a little table in the corner, which was nice as it was out of the way from the crowds and i couldn’t see much of the bar from here. “Can I get you anything?” She smiled getting out her pad.

“Um - red wine please, thank you” I nodded rubbing my hands on my thighs nervously. “Right away” the lady nodded and scurried off. She was back with my drink within two minutes. But I had to get another one when it got to ten past eight and Mason hadn’t showed up. Maybe it was traffic? Maybe he couldn’t figure out what to wear? I decided to let ten minutes slide. Then it got to half eight. Maybe a wolf thing came up? Maybe he ran into Katherine? Thirty minutes was a bit of a piss take. So i decided to text him but keep waiting. Nine o’clock came around and i’d had three wines, no word of Mason and looks from almost everyone that walked in. Maybe his phone was dead? Maybe he was stranded somewhere?

I’d give it just a little more time. And one more drink. Which brought me to half nine. Maybe he just wasn’t coming? Maybe he just didn’t like me?

I fiddled with my phone looking at his name. Did I text him to have a go at him? Did I text him to say I was disappointed? Or did I just block him and never give him a chance to even explain or myself the chance to express how embarrassed I was. While overthinking I heard a thud come from the seat in front of me. Mason? I looked up from my screen to see the Damon Salvatore sat in front of me with his sunglasses on, inside?

“W-what are you doing here” I stuttered. “Where is he?” Damon gritted his teeth removing his glasses. I swallowed my pride and gave my full attention to Damon, turning my phone off. “He stood me up” I replied disheartened with how my night had gone. “Thought so- he’s fucking filth y/n, you never should have agreed to see him” he shook his head. “What do you mean you thought so? How long have you been here?” I knitted my brows together. “Longer than you- I saw you come in- I saw you waiting and everyone staring” he told me in a small voice looking at his hands.

“How didn’t I see you?” I questioned looking around the place for a blind spot. Ah. “The bar” we both said simultaneously. I cracked a smile at him but Damon wasn’t in a smiling mood. “What’s wrong?” “I’m pissed off- what gives a prick like him the right to leave such a gorgeous girl sitting at a table alone- in a bar where anything could happen” he shook his head butting the side of his mouth. “You think I’m- gorgeous?” I blinked at him, it made my eyes fill up with salty tears.

I was upset and embarrassed about being stood up. It was a real confidence knocker. And to hear Damon say that, it really meant a lot. “I’ve lived a long time y/n, and you’ve been the only girl who can literally take my breath away, naturally”. Now I was leaning a different way, my thoughts were now all muddled up. What did he mean by that. “I can see you’re confused…” Damon stated now showing a little smile. “I- came to the bar not just to drink away the thought of you going on a date with another man, but also to spy on the date…”. I took a second to think but I still didn’t understand where he was going.

“Damon- what are you talking about?” I replied blinking. Hoping he was about to tell me that he was jealous or something. “I was jealous- of Mason- and you- because I want to date you, I want to take you to restaurants and shower you in flowers and treat you to meals, I don’t want another man doing that for you”. My heart punched my chest and I couldn’t help but smile at everything he was saying to me. “So date me then” my smile widened. Damon’s eyes widened “you- like me too?” He asked in the most innocent voice I’d ever heard him use. I nodded.

“I just- never wanted to ruin our friendship… and also thought you were into Elena” I trailed off looking down but sitting forward now. Damon reached across the table taking my hand in his. “I’ve always liked you y/n” “well then” I smiled squeezing his hand. “I’m out of red wine and you don’t seem to have a drink, we can’t start without them” I smirked making Damon chuckle. “ I’ll be right back” he told me getting up straight away.

“Don’t stand me up” I joked as he walked past. He stopped and backed up. And lent down to kiss my lips. Just quickly, just a peck. “I’d never stand you up princess, and I’d never pass up on this opportunity” he whispered rubbing his thumb on my cheek and making me blush from his sweet words. “Now, I’ll be right back” he made clear as he parted from me. I watched him walk away from me and to the bar.

Ugh, he was so hot.

Damon Salvatore masterlist

The vampire diaries masterlist

All series masterlist

Masterlist of masterlists

[partycatty]

I have to do anon bc like I have gotten soooo addicted to your dark star johnny like.. they are so good i need 15 of those lil fuckers. You just write so good oml you ATE!!!!!

you want more? i give you more!

dark star!johnny cage > i found you

a continuation of i'll find you, johnny knew you couldn't have gotten too far... and he's not happy when he finds you.

warnings: yandere johnny, abusive relationship, lots of freaky and sick and twisted themes

notes: y'all can't stay away from jobby cag, can ya...? me neither.

[ masterlist ]

• weeks had passed since you made your grand escape, and johnny would scrape through every possible source of evidence he could think of. security cameras, tracking devices, bank statements... all of it came up to nothing.

• you were driving him mad with the loss, needing someone to talk to, someone to nod and smile and sit pretty while obeying like a good pet. johnny needed that, he needed a toy to dress up and manage. being left alone with his thoughts was no good, and every paparazzi barrage would end in a public outburst, one that the masses accredited to desperation to find his poor missing partner.

• checking into hotels with fake names, you bounced across cities in hopes that you don't leave a large enough trail behind you. this all came crashing down when, as you walked down the street in your casual clothes, a long, outstretched arm pointed to you.

• "aren't you...?" the stranger is baffled, eyes wide and mouth agape as your features are taken in and properly familiarized with the same face plastered on every social media: johnny's missing beau!

• the question turns heads, draws attention and pulls out phones, recording and snapping your figure as you desperately pulled at the locked door of a convenience store. you had hoped that you wouldn't be recognized, but it seemed to be inevitable with how aggressive johnny was with his sob story. you were missing, poor, dazed and confused according to the world, not a victim looking for freedom.

• it's not long before johnny catches wind of your spotting, several states over in a place he'd never dare touch with his pompous fingers. he figured you better than that, better than conforming with... the common folk. granted, the common folk were his source of income, but to him they were no more than that. well... that, and an ego-booster.

• late at night, you toss and turn in your hotel room, the warmth of the comforter offering you no reassurance that something was horribly off. your suspicions were confirmed when a tapping at the window draws you of your pathetic attempt at sleep.

• "love~" your heart stops at the horrifically familiar voice, the drawl that makes your stomach flip and sleep become a distant concept.

• you fall silent, hoping maybe he'd give up, think he got the wrong room. "don't be stupid," he continues, tapping again. "everyone knows you're here, doll. come on out! we've all been very worried for you."

• it's then that you hear the shutter of cameras and a muffled commotion of people. paparazzi. he brought a damn parade with him, shaming you into emerging from the den of safety. shielding his intentions with a crowd that worships the sight of two of you together.

• after a few moments, the doorknob jiggles with an eagerness that startles you, making you wish for only a moment you can that you had purchased a self defense item before leaving. the door swings open, and johnny stands, one hand on his hip and the other dangling the key.

• "i went ahead and told the front desk about our little disagreement," he hums, lip twitching. "got a key no problem. i missed you bad, pretty thing."

• "get the fuck out," you hiss through your teeth, eyeing the paparazzi behind him starting to clutter around the doorway. "walk away."

• "no," his voice is beyond sure, his tone childlike, as if you had told him it was bedtime. "i don't want to. and frankly, i don't care what you want. you're unwell, aren't you? c'mere, i'll be good, you know i only bite if you ask real nice."

• you were pinned, the thought of making yourself out to be an insane freak sickening you. there was no way around it, johnny had you cornered to smile and wave, strained grins and clenched fists as he guides you into his car. the paparazzi flash and flicker in your eyes, blinding your path.

• 'johnny's love has been found!' the news reads, gossip articles and news anchors alike are catching up the population on the a-lister's drama, explaining the story from a side that's foggy with deception. you were saved, back in his strong arms, and trapped once again in his grasp. this time, he had no intention of letting you go.

• as soon as the door closes shut, johnny backs you against the wall, your head slamming.

• "you dumb, stupid girl," he growls into your face, breath hot and face scrunched. "wasting my damn time, you like doing that, don't'cha? what, you didn't miss me even a little bit, don't lie to me now."

• "not in the slightest," you try and be strong, but his large form overtakes yours and makes your knees weak. "you're... you're mean to me."

• "mean?" he laughs a gross cackle, looking away for a moment. "i'm only mean because you make me. you like it when i put you in your place, that's why you act like a brat."

• he grabs your face, slamming your head against the wall again, this time with more force. your jaw hurts as his grip squeezes the fat of your cheeks, squishing your face with his fingers. "you test me, you know that? i should've put up more cameras... yeah... maybe that's my plan. i'll call the guy tomorrow, get rid of those blind spots... bathroom included."

• he leans in for a kiss and you pull away, as far as you're able considering your constraints. his frown deepens.

• "i love you," he purrs, a wicked grin stretching his face. "i loved you enough to find you. you should be thanking me."

• "i'm sorry," you dryly reply, eyes darting between his.

• johnny's grip changes, moving from your face to your wrists, pinning them above your head in one swift motion. his smile pulling at his features and glittering deviously.

• "you're not sorry, you'd do it again if i give you the chance," he suggests, shaking his head. the tip of his nose brushes yours. "you're not leaving my sight, not anymore, sweetheart. love you too much for that."

• johnny leans into your neck, running his nose up the length of your skin. he breathes deep, peppering kisses in a path that leads to your stomach. he drops to his knees.

• "i missed you real bad, honest," he insists, his eyes big and watery. "i'm nothing without you, you know. you're my girl. i need you just as bad as you need me. i can't... i can't let you go. not again. i'm not me without you."

• his fingers dig into your hips, squeezing with a sick mix of affection and hunger.

• "i've got you," he breathes, slowly rising. "and you're staying."

[simplyfandomish]

Imagine you’re an Earthbender

Simplyfandomish Masterlist

word count: 779 warnings: None! Named Reader?? But it’s for plot purposes🤐🤐

note: this will possibly become a very short series because I love ATLA but don’t got the time nor enters to make a full story😅 so definitely expect more parts to come!!👀👀

Aang was ecstatic to be reunited with his old childhood best friend. Of course, he was! Bumi was quite literally one of the four things that connected Aang to his previous life before being consumed by an iceberg 112 years ago; Next to Appa, Momo, and his airbending of course. 

Tears collected in both of their eyes as Aang and Bumi wrapped their arms tight around one another - Finally reunited after a century. Bumi knew all those years of chugging down onion-banana juice every morning was a genius idea! 

However, the happy moment was interrupted when an Omashu guard rushed into the throne room. “Your Highness!” 

Bumi and Aang parted from their embrace. “Yes, yes, what is it?” Bumi asked. 

The guard seemed hesitant, “We finally received news on the whereabouts of Princess Serenity.”

“ ‘Princess’?? You had kids??” Aang was both surprised and stunned. Bumim never really seemed like the family man type. Sokka and Katara were surprised that such a crazy man was even able to reproduce! They wondered if his lineage was just as kooky as he was. 

“I did, but Serenity is not my granddaughter by blood. We kind of… adopted each other a while back.” Bumi’s voice grew soft as he spoke of Serenity. His eyes hardened slightly, “Where is she?”

“She’s been captured by a Fire Nation fleet near a mining village by the Mo Ce Sea shoreline.” 

Aang and Katara gasped; Sokka gritted his teeth. 

“How long ago?”

“Just this morning. An Earth Kingdom scout heard some Fire Nation soldiers boasting about ‘hunting the last Lion Turtle’. We believe she’s been transported to the Mo Ce Sea prison rig under the control of Warden Takei.”

Bumi stroked his long white beard in thought. “Hmm. I’ve heard Warden Takei is one of the more ruthless wardens of the lot.”

“What should we do, Your Highness?” The guard asked again.

“We can go and rescue her!” Aang proclaimed. 

Bumi smiled and rested a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I appreciate your efforts, Aang, but I have faith in my granddaughter.” He began to erupt into laughter, “Besides I feel bad for those Fire Nation weasels! They have to deal with her!” He snorted so hard his nose hurt. 

Aang, Sokka, Katara, and even the guard shared concerned and confused looks. 

“But Your Highness, this is Omahu’s Regent we’re talking about.” The guard tried to explain. Bui cut him off, “And I taught her everything she knows. Of course, I’m worried for her, but she’s a smart girl. She’ll escape from underneath their noses as she did the other seven times.” He shrugged, beaming at Serenity’s impressive track record. 

“ ‘Seven times’?!” The Gaang gasped. 

“Yes, yes, she’s trying to break an old friend’s record of escaping thirteen times! Ambitious my granddaughter is!” Bumi chuckled and snorted again. 

The Gaang and the guard didn’t seem too convinced…

“I can not wait to send the news to Fire Lord Ozai that I have captured the Last Mighty Lion Turtle!” Warden Takei’s grin fell into a snarl, “What a stupid name that is! And to think she’s just a young girl!” The warden cackled, his laughter echoing throughout the prison rig’s metal structure.

Serenity smirked as she stared up at the air duct above her. 

As soon as she was escorted onto the prison rig in the middle of the Mo Ce Sea, she was thrown into solitary confinement deep in the belly of the large metal monstrosity. She was dressed in bland red prison garb instead of her usual bright green and gold wide-sleeved blouses and loose pants and her hair was down, flat, boring without its loops and hair accessories. 

Taunted by the warden and the guards that she had no way to escape, that her days of resisting Fire Nation rule were finished, and that she was to be shipped off to the Fire Lord’s Palace within two days time when the next shipment of supplies came in.  

Serenity stayed quiet through the tauntings. She was used to it and even grew annoyed; She had heard the same spiel from several other wardens, the same taunts and jeers from other guards, and had been promised seven times that she would be meeting Fire Lord Ozai. 

Serenity snickered as she plopped down on the cold prison floor and stretched her legs. “After seven times, you think they’d learn that they can’t contain me~” She chuckled, and a small snort came from her crinkled nose. “And eight is my lucky number!”

At least the Fire Nation was kind enough to leave her necklace and bracelets alone... 

[moongothic]

Seen people share their headcanons of what would Luffy call Crocodile if Crocodad was Real, and it did get me wondering

Like on one hand, Luffy has a perfect track-record with respecting trans people and not misgendering anyone, so if Crocodad Real, Luffy wouldn't misgender him

But also, Luffy has two braincells, and having two people to call "dad" would probably be confusing for him. And Luffy doesn't seem like the type of guy who'd either of his parents "Father" either. Canonically Luffy tends to use more affectionate terms for his family, including Dragon despite never having ever met him ("tou-chan", "ji-chan" for Garp, "nii-chan" for Ace. Note the lack of the polite "o" at the begining, and the use of "chan" instead of "san". The take-away here is that he's basically being a bit familiar and kind of affectionate)

And let us not forget, how Luffy loves giving nicknames to people

So it would be perfectly on-brand for Luffy to come up with a new nickname for Crocodile, if only to help differentiate The Dads

(Like yes, Luffy does technically have a nickname for Crocodile already ("wani", lit. "crocodile"), but it's not really an affectionate nickname (or a particularly disrespectful one either, kind of neutral (though calling someone you're not friends with by a nickname is kind of rude)). And while Luffy can and does drop the funny nicknames for people if he decides he likes them enough (see Hammock turning into Hancock, or Luffy learning Bonney's name and using it because he felt bad for her), if Luffy did learn about Crocodile being his other dad and wanted to treat him as such (which he also might not, to be fair)... yeah he could come up with a new nickname)

Now the question just is... what kind of a nickname would Luffy then come up with?

And because I'm a fucking loser with a passion for translation and localization, I'm almost specifically interested in what kind of a nickname Luffy would come up with in Japanese. And partially because, depending on the nickname, it could just be the exact same nickname in English too. Like Luffy's "Yama-o" got localized as "Yamabro" because the "o" (written as 男, lit. "man") needed to be translated and localized for the nickname to hit the same in English. Same for shit like "split head" for Foxy or "giant shallot" for Moria, or "wani" getting localized as "gator" because Luffy calling Crocodile a "crocodile" as a nickname would not make any sense in English lmao

So... a cute nickname that makes it easy for Luffy to call Crocodile his "dad" without it getting confusing with calling Dragon "dad". Maybe something that ties to his name already and preferably rolls off the tongue easily in Japanese... Like we have our Crocodads and Dadodiles but these nicknames are based in English, so they don't roll off the tongue nicely -> Can't imagine Luffy saying either. But... I think the fans are onto something there... There must be a variation of this nickname that would work well in Japanese...

Papadile.

I could see Luffy coming up with a nickname like that. It would roll off the tongue pretty easily. The only counter argument against it I can think of would be that Luffy does not seem like the kind of guy who would call anyone "papa". Like that word does not fit in his mouth.

...Anything else?

Well. I guess there is the third, forbidden option of Luffy calling him "oyaji" ("pops"), much like Whitebeard's crew called their captain too.

But that just leads us to an interesting thought; what the fuck would Crocodile prefer Luffy call him?

I mean this is Sir "Call me what you will" Crocodile, who generally does not seem to care that much about what people call him. Like we could take that and just assume Crocodile would not give a fuck about what Luffy called him, but it's also possible this could be like The One Exception to The Rule. And there's many potential reasons why too

Like there's the practical side of things where it could be a pain in Crocodile's ass if the world found out the two were related, because it'd mean anything bad happening to either one could be used against the other. Someone targetting Luffy could be then used intentionally to target Crocodile and viceversa. As Dragon said, a child is a parent's weak spot after all. So it could still be in Crocodile's self-interest to keep their blood relation a secret. But also; Crocodile had to leave his child behind. Much like how Olvia felt like she had no right to call herself Robin's mom, it'd make sense to me if Crocodile felt kind of the same. That regardless of their blood connection, he had no right to call himself Luffy's father, let alone deserve to be called that after what he'd done to Luffy.

So maybe Crocodile would prefer to be just called by his name. Maybe he'd be satisfied with that. Perhaps being called "pops" would lowkey annoy the shit out of him because it would just remind him of That Asshole Who Took His Hand and beat his ass. Which, y'know, fair. Perhaps "Papadile" would be just a bit too ridiculous and cutesy for him tolerate. And perhaps Luffy calling him "dad" (or "father", or any variation of it) would be a lot more emotionally compromising to Crocodile than he'd like to admit, especially if he believed he would never be called that

But knowing Luffy, if he knows being called "dad" made Crocodile happy (even if he didn't want to admit it), and if Luffy did decide he liked Crocodile/accepted him as his other dad... He'd probably keep on calling Crocodile some variation of "dad", even if he insisted that "Crocodile was fine"

Also worth noting that according to this SBS, if Croc did raise a child that child would use 父上 ("chichiue"), which is quite a formal way to call someone Father

So that would be Crocodile's canon preferred term but god knows there'd be no way in hell he'd be able to convince Luffy to call him that, shit's way too formal for Luffy

[blackjackkent]

Hossberg is definitely not a particularly welcoming place, cold and misty and snowy. Not really the sort of place one wants to run around draining blight pustules - not that there's really ever a good place for that.

We're apparently in Lavendel village at the moment, which is thankfully not looking as bad as D'Meta's Crossing and therefore is doing better than either I or Helena thought it would be. There are living people here for one thing, one of whom trades us a gift we can give to Davrin when we get back to the lighthouse.

Banter as we head off to the nearby caves to get some blight samples:

Bellara: "Lavendel village, the Wetlands... it's like D'Meta's Crossing all over again. Well, it's still here. And I want to help." Neve: "Often a place needs someone in its corner. This one needs more than a few."

Aw. :)

"There. That's our blight boil," Helena says, reflecting that she never needed to say sentences like this back in Minrathous.

"Got a sample. I'm guessing they'll need more than one..."

"It's fascinating," Bellara says brightly. "And also gross. And very bad."

This seems about the truest thing Helena has heard in recent memory.

-----

We have to progress through the caves here, following the little strands of blight to their central pustules and then blowing them up. Occasionally, for variety, a blight pustule drops out of the ceiling and then explodes. Horrible place.

On the bright side, Bellara and Neve are being cute again.

Neve: "All right, Bel. There's a rumor among the Dock Town paper sellers - the author for your serial had notes on a third series." Bellara: "Really!?"

The conversation got interrupted at this point by a horde of darkspawn, but resumes afterwards with a casual "Well... anyway..." from Neve, which is a) hilarious and b) a fantastic quality of life improvement.

Neve: "It's never getting printed, I'll tell you that up front. But if I tracked down the notes..." Bellara: "Yes! Please! Oh, wow!" Neve: "What?" Bellara: "Does this mean you're working a case for me? The Author Note Caper." Neve: "Let's not jump to 'caper' before I've started..."

I love them. Anyway, time to explode this horrible thing:

It had an equally horrible monster inside it:

AHHHHHHH

This thing is called the Disciple-in-Ichor which is a Dark Souls ass name if ever I heard one. Deeply irritating fight; as usual the guy fixated directly on Helena to the exclusion of all else and chased me up and down the field while I frantically shot arrows at him.

But we got there!

This was immediately followed by an ogre who burst through a wall and smashed Helena on the head straight out of the cutscene before I had time to respond. XD

Eventually, however, Helena manages to gather five pustule samples, and back we go to report in to Antoine and Evka.

-----

We fade in on Antoine staring blankly into one of the sample containers brought back. A low, ominous whispering sounds in the background.

"Antoine? Antoine!" Evka calls, but it takes him a moment to return to himself.

"Yes?" he asks vaguely. Then his eyes clear a little. "Ah-- yes! The blight samples."

He straightens up, looking between Evka and Helena. "They're like nothing we've seen - or anything in the Warden records." He frowns, his eyebrows knitting. "And I can... I almost hear voices in it," he mutters. "The gods calling the blight."

(A/N: I have a very bad feeling that Bioware has given us my favorite trope, "married couple that still really dig each other", and is about to shatter it by sending Antoine off to the Calling. :( )

Helena doesn't fully understand all of what's being discussed - least of all the strange, troubled expression that flicks between Antoine and Evka. "I can't hear anything," she says. "But... if you believe me..."

And to her relief, Evka nods.

"We knew things were bad," the dwarven Warden says gravely. "But if the blight's being called, the situation's more unpredictable than we thought. We need to--"

"I give you two rein, and this is where it leads?" An unpleasantly familiar voice cuts into the conversation, and Helena feels her hackles raise instinctively.

(A/N: Another instance of this game just having someone dramatically show up in a conversation and then disappear again without any context whatsoever. When did you get here, Glastrum? Why are you here in the first place? You literally just showed up to make Helena's day worse for no reason. Don't you have something else you should be doing right now?)

"First Warden, I--" she starts to say stiffly, but he cuts her off.

"Stay away from the blight and the Wardens," he growls. "How many times must you be told?"

"Do you think titles and bluster scare me?" Helena shoots back wearily. She's so tired of this man, of his dedication to not seeing what is in front of his face and treating her like a fool.

His lip curls. "And your venom is better directed toward your magisters," he says, coolly disdainful.

To their credit, Antoine and Evka both try to speak up on Helena's behalf.

"Rook knew something was wrong," Evka says.

Antoine shifts, glancing over his shoulder uneasily at the sample cases. "I can hear it in the samples. The gods..." He wrings his hands together worriedly. "She's telling the truth. The blight has changed - and that changes everything."

"It changes nothing," Glastrum snaps. "Your sensitivity to the blight is useful, Warden Antoine. But you've had more than one snake in your ear."

Helena is getting goddamned sick of this man. Him giving her grief is one thing, but his own subordinates too, whose only crime has been trying to support her. "He's trying to help," she says coldly.

"Enough!" Glastrum scowls. "You tampered with a ritual that unleashed blight. You did not know what you were doing then, and you don't now."

(A/N: I will grant Glastrum this, honestly - he's abrasive, unpleasant, and not open minded at all, but honestly this is a little bit like the council scenes at the beginning of ME1. WE know we're telling the truth, but realistically, to any normal person hearing the story secondhand, it does kind of sound crazy. XD )

"If gods control the blight, we need to change how we approach it--" Evka objects, but he cuts her off again.

"Archdemons control blight," he growls. "And we'd sense if one had risen. We'd make the sacrifices needed to fight it."

"But we--" begins Antoine.

"The blight *has* increased," Glastrum says coldly. "Now is not the time to lose focus." He stares them all down, a muscle working in his jaw. "Wardens Evka and Antoine - are you sworn to combat the blight?"

"Yes, but--"

"Then report back to Weisshaupt and do so." He glares at the two of them icily for a moment, then turns and stalks away.

(A/N: Again - to go where. He just showed up to yell at them and then vanishes.)

Awkward silence falls for a moment. Evka chuckles weakly. "That went poorly - even for a talk with him."

"Are talks with him ever pleasant?" Helena asks dryly.

Antoine juts his jaw out thoughtfully. "We talked about the rain once. It was... neutral."

(A/N: I love them. XD )

Helena sighs, squeezing the bridge of her nose. "So much for convincing the Wardens."

Antoine smiles reassuringly. "We can't give you the Order," he says quietly, "but you have us."

Evka nods agreement. "We'll keep tracking the darkspawn, and the blight. We'll do what we can."

"And if we learn the gods' plans," Antoine says. "You will too."

It's not much - certainly not the army that Helena would have hoped to gain from alliance with the Wardens. But it's something. A few more people that believe in her. That's a step in the right direction.

[mooshofish]

Spoilers for, sighs, episode 5 of bridon arc….. Oh boy…

Vein for the love of all things, STOP IMPLYING THAT YOU WANT TO FUCKING CANNABALIZE CHENG XIAOSHI. DO YOU WANT TO ABSORB HIS ESSENCE YOU BEING OF UNKNOWN ORIGIN? WHY ARE YOU A FREAK?

Once again lack of screenshots bc I am lazy and watched with silly gang (shout out to silly gang!!!!)

I feel like Wang Qing may have started the fire but maybe she didn’t. She clearly was in a bad spot so it might’ve pushed her to burn the school down. That could also give a reason for why she survived.

Don’t think I also didn’t notice little baby Xia Fei in that scene as well. I suspect that there’s a connection between the two. It at least provides a reason for why Xia Fei recognized Cheng Weimin’s name. Probably because that was his teacher. Who may or may not have died in the fire. If Xia Fei was there, then it means Wang Qing wasn’t the only survivor. Unless for some reason he was out of the building on that day. Maybe, if they have a positive relationship, she told him to leave the school that day. Pretty dark but it could be a possibility. Still don’t know if Cheng Weimin actually did die in that fire. For some reason my brain says what if he shaved his head and became the cafe owner but that definitely is not the case lmao.

Cheng Xiaoshi really does look so much like his father. That entire scene where he just yelled at him kinda broke my heart. He kinda just left and made a new life for himself didn’t he? Care to share details hmm?? Cheng Weimin? WHY ARE YOU IN BRIDON. WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO ACCOMPLISH….

The cuties are cute once more. “I told you I’d stay with you forever” or some shit. You actually said I can’t make any promises so it looks like you changed your mind. I would not be surprised if they went to a gift shop and got fucking matching “best friend” rings at this point. On brand for those two little freaks.

You look tasty coming back was not something I expected. No Cheng Xiaoshi please don’t make a secret handshake with him he literally kills you!!!!! And that wasn’t a weird analogy, I’m pretty sure he means it literally!

Suspicious activity all around. You too Vein. He is surely a schemer. I don’t know what I just learned is the final episode in this arc will bring but hopefully I can get a little closure. If we look at the track record, well, let’s just say we should be prepared for an insane plot twist at the very last minute of the episode. We probably will get season 3 later this year or maybe the start of the next, which is so scary to me.

Manifesting high survival rates for the finale I suggest you all to do the same

[echoingvoids]

Take Me Back (Jetra)

Request a oneshot Masterlist

Best friends. Ex lovers. They work together. It's complicated. This kinda got way out of control on me.

Modern spy-agent type AU

Word Count: 4476

TW: gun use, sexual themes, alcohol consumption, graphic violence descriptions, swearing

<>

"Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage."

--Laozi

<>

Getting summons to the head office was something he was used to. As one of the best agents in the Order of the Stone Intelligence Agency (known as OSIA for short), he got called in all the time for extreme missions at any hour. Working alone or with a partner, he was known for his skills. It was his life.

Jesse entered the office to find Spymaster Soren at his desk and Petra Goldsmith, another respected agent, sitting across from the ginger. Internally cursing, Jesse took the open seat next to her. 

He wasn't surprised to see her in there, not in the slightest. And it wasn't like they were on bad terms with each other it was just...awkward. Given that barely two months ago they had been dating. Despite swearing to stay friends, things had never been the same since and every time he was around her...well, he felt strange.

"Thank you for coming, you two," Soren leaned forward, clasping his hands together. "I know Ivor's been sending you out together a lot but I want to apologize if this is awkward at all for either of you."

Both of them instantly denied his statement, assuring him they were perfectly fine working together, they were still friends, and nothing was awkward at all. They didn't look at each other. Their statements were nearly the exact same. 

The Spymaster nodded, looking not quite convinced. "Alright then...I'm assigning you a very time-sensitive case. In fact, I'm sending you out within the hour. In a town about two hours over is this high-class night club called 'Beacon Lights'. There will be a woman there tonight named Stella Leighburg. We suspect she might be working with The Admin."

The Admin. Master criminal, one who had been baffling OSIA for years. He had always been one step ahead, escaping at the last minute, and Jesse couldn't remember the last time they had found an associate of the man. "You got any stats on her?"

"I do," Soren passed a file folder to him. "Likes high-class things, gets drunk very easily, and has been known to get loose-lipped when under the influence. Major flirt, devious smile, and likes to think she's in control when, more often than not, she isn't at all."

"So how do you want us to do this?" Petra glanced at the folder before crossing her arms. "Get her drunk is first, clearly. Then what? Nab her and interrogate her? Threaten her? Simply ask her nicely?"

"Actually, what I'm thinking is a touch different. In fact, a lot of this is going to ride on Jesse. Honey trap technique."

Petra cringed and Jesse's head snapped up. "Sorry?"

"Seduce her, Jesse. We all know you're more than capable; you've been on missions like this before," Soren leaned back in his seat. "Flirt with her, get her hooked. Sleep with her if you have to, just get as much information as you can."

Jesse nodded slowly and Petra shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Where do I come into all this, exactly?"

"We all know The Admin isn't foolish enough to let an agent of his wander around without some form of guarding. Your job is to find this protection, and remove the threat while Jesse is focused on information gathering," Soren stood. "The disguise department already has everything ready for you, and you'll be going under the code names of David and Lisa. Leave as soon as you can. Jesse, you'll have a special pin that'll be concealed in your hair--that will have a recording device so we catch everything."

Jesse stood as well, passing the file back. "Jesus, I feel so bad for whoever is going to have to listen to that track later."

"Unless they're into that shit or something," Petra shrugged. "Some people are. And I'm sure some of them have something for you on top of it. Makes it extra weird."

"Thank you, Petra. That will now be hovering at the back of my brain for the rest of the night."

Soren snorted, passing Petra a set of keys. "Dark blue mustang on the second floor of the parking garage. Will fit your 'rich club-goers' cover."

Jesse nodded while Petra spun the keys a bit on her finger and waltzed out of the room, not waiting to see if he was following her. Soren eyed the younger man. "Jesse. Remember, this is how this works."

"Trust me, I am fully aware. Knew what I was getting into when I signed up," Jesse shook his head and followed after Petra. "I knew I should've listened to Ivor."

"What did Ivor say?"

Jesse paused in the doorway. "Don't date people at work."

Soren didn't respond and Jesse let the door close, looking around for Petra and not finding the red-head in sight. With a long sigh, he started making his way to the disguise department, keeping his head down and weaving amongst the steady stream of agents.

The disguise department was a massive room, with walls of shelves and racks, holding every type of costume, accessory, and wig known to mankind. One wall was simply a massive cubical shelf, labeled with agent names to hold disguises for them. Usually most of them were empty, with others holding carefully wrapped packages containing everything the agent would need.

As he suspected, he found Petra at the disguise department, arguing with Cassie Rose, the department leader, about her costume. "How the hell am I supposed to run in this, Cassie? What if I need to run?"

"Nothing should go wrong, so hence you won't be running!" The other woman snapped, adjusting her glasses on her nose. "Jesse, I see you trying to beeline for your shelf. Tell your partner here that she won't need to run."

Without looking up from the package sitting on his shelf, he said, "Petra you shouldn't need to run."

"Wow, ganging up on me. That's just low," a rustle followed her comment. "I mean, look at this. Isn't this a bit over the top?"

He turned to see her holding up a long, sparkly blue dress. "I-it-I think it looks nice."

Cassie snorted and crossed her arms. "You two are a piece of work."

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing. And of course it looks nice. I picked it. I'm an expert at disguise."

Petra huffed and lowered the dress. "I don't get a choice then, do I?"

"Oh wow, you figured it out," Cassie smiled in a sinister manner. "I'd probably let Jesse drive. Driving in heels is illegal, after all."

Petra groaned and Jesse found himself suppressing a laugh, holding his hand up for the keys. They went flying across the space, nearly hitting him in the face, but he managed to catch them. "You did that on purpose."

"Maybe. Ugh, come on, let's get changed and get going. I don't want this to take any longer than it has to."

<>

The drive was uncomfortably silent. Jesse tried to keep his focus on the road and every so often, Petra would pull at her dress. He'd fight to not look at her, to not follow the motion of her hands. 

They had worked together plenty in the past two months, sure. They were still friends, absolutely. She had been right when she said that dating at work had been a terrible idea and it was probably best for them to call it quits. She had been absolutely, 100% correct. It had been what was best, what was right for them both when they had broken up. 

Right?

Jesse wanted to drop his face on the wheel, maybe swerve off the road. What he hated most was how his brain wouldn't shut up around her, whispering things that he had no right to think about anymore. She was always there in his mind, like a ghost, keeping him awake at 2 AM and distracting him at 2 PM. 

And this mission.

Soren wasn't wrong, Jesse had done missions of this sort before, always very successfully. When first attempting the honey trap method, Cassie Rose had analyzed him first, saying he had a innocent yet enticing look about him. A charming smile, a quirk in the eyebrows when he found something amusing. Between that, his joking personality, and just his overall body structure, Cassie had said he would be excellent for the method.

And he was.

Rarely did he have to actually sleep with anyone, using that easy-going grin and flirty comments instead. He could get people to talk real easy, and took pride in that fact.

Still, doing a mission like this with Petra, his ex-girlfriend, felt like a whole other ballgame. He'd pull it off, absolutely, but knowing she was nearby, watching and probably listing would make it a bit more difficult.

"Jesse," her voice snapped him out of his thoughts. "Are you alright? You look really distraught."

He blinked, sparing a glance at her before forcing his eyes back on the road. "Uhm, yeah. Everything's good."

She snorted. "You don't have to lie, you know. We both know this feels weird as fuck."

At this he finally relaxed enough to manage a laugh. "Yeah, you're right. Sorry."

"What are you apologizing for? This was Soren's idea, not yours."

"Fair enough," Jesse drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "Fair enough."

The atmosphere in the car went back to uncomfortable and he sighed, checking the GPS. They were almost there. Thank God.

He couldn't wait to get this over with.

<>

The place was busy, with dim lighting, obscure music, and people in fancy attire milling about, dancing, and drinking. Everything fit the file, but on the first scan of the room, Jesse couldn't locate their target. "I don't see her yet."

"Me neither. Although I may have located some potential security," Petra very lightly nudged his arm. "Let's approach the bar, get something to drink."

He wholeheartedly agreed, coming up to the bar and leaning against it, asking the bartender for two whiskeys. He knew he was way too tense at the moment to do this right and if he didn't loosen up at least a bit, he was going to run into serious problems. The bartender quickly returned, sliding them the glasses, and Jesse downed half of his in one go, wincing at the burn in his throat.

Petra snorted. "Good lord. You want mine too?"

"Nah. I can't get buzzed, otherwise this whole thing will probably blow up in our faces. I just need to--" he downed the second half, setting the glass down with a clink. "Loosen up a bit."

"You nervous on a mission," she took a much smaller sip from her glass. "Never thought I'd see the day."

"Yeah, well, when you hang around me as much as you have, Petra, you see a lot," he pressed his lips together and carefully glanced over his shoulder, taking a quick survey of the room. No Stella yet. "Occupational hazard."

"I'll say."

He rolled his eyes, fighting the hint of a smile coming onto his face. He lived for these moments, where their banter was easy, and all the past was forgotten. Of course, those moments tended to last only a few seconds before reality would march back in.

Like it did right now. Petra looked around again, eyes narrowing. "Bingo."

Jesse turned, following her gaze over to a small table in the corner. Seated there alone was Stella Leighburg, sipping on what appeared to be some sort of neon blue margarita. Jesse raised an eyebrow before turning back, picking up his empty glass and moving it around a bit. "Alright. You see any security?"

"Yeah. One by the jukebox and another near her table. I'll handle that second guy first. You ready to be the handsome stranger that sweeps her off her feet?"

"Gosh, that sounds so wrong coming out of your mouth," he glanced over at Stella again, who was now checking her phone. "She's attractive, at least."

Petra looked over as well, raising an eyebrow. "You think so?"

"I mean, yeah. Blond, tanned, long legs. That's what most men want. You done with that?" he reached over and took Petra's glass, finishing what was left in the bottom. "She's the stereotypical desire, I guess."

"Huh. Like how a lot of women want tall, dark, and handsome."

He snorted. "Yeah, I guess."

She nodded slowly and stood. "We should get to work."

"Yeah, uh...I'll go talk to her."

Petra nodded again, offering him a half smile before getting up and disappearing into the crowd of people. Jesse flagged the bartender, paid for the drinks, and then waited, glancing over at the table. The security that had originally been standing there was gone, and he took that as he cue to get up and go over. 

Stella's phone had disappeared into her purse and her murky green eyes were now scanning the crowd while she sipped on her very-blue margarita. Her gaze landed on Jesse and one blond eyebrow arched up, followed by a grin when she realized he was approaching her. She set her drink down when he was in earshot, asking, "Have I seen you around here before?"

"No, I don't think you have. I don't think I've seen you before either."

"Well, I suppose it is only my second time here," she gestured to the seat across from her. "Care to join me?"

He took the offered seat, flashing her a winning, practiced smile. "Gladly. You say this is your second time here?"

"Oh, yes. Before I couldn't exactly get the clearance to get in her but now..." She took a sip of her drink. "But now my boss got me a way in."

Jesse immediately tucked that information away for later. "Well, your boss is clearly a very invested employer."

"Oh, he is. This is quite a nice place, with good drinks and excellent people..."

He chuckled. "You couldn't be more right. Can I buy you another drink?"

"I'm not going to tell you no, handsome. Say, what is your name?"

"David."

"Well, David, I'm Stella. And I'll gladly let you buy me a drink."

Things went on like this for a while. She'd drink and drop hints about her "company", her boss, and her position. Jesse rolled easily along with it, flirting where he needed to and storing away the information for later. Every so often he'd see a flash of auburn and sparkly blue at the edge of his vision, letting him know Petra was alright and checking up on him. 

"You see, I am the boss's favorite," Stella leaned back in her seat, one of the sleeves of her purple dress slipping off her shoulder. "He always does such nice things for me."

"I'm sure he does. A beautiful woman such as yourself deserves the best, after all."

"Oh, you're so sweet," she leaned forward, encroaching on his personal space and putting her face very close to his. "Most guys I've talked to are so rude but you...you're something else."

He simply smiled a bit and tilted his head. That's when she kissed him. 

He knew exactly where this was going. She was hooked. 

<>

Petra was fuming. 

Getting rid of the security had been far easier than she had expected. One guy she simply threatened with her heels and he had fled. Clearly The Admin didn't care about Stella too much if he gave her such flimsy protection. 

So now Petra had to circle around and keep an eye out for any new guards and make sure to Jesse was still intact. And something inside her hated watching the progression as Stella went from mild interest to totally enthralled. She hated seeing how Jesse rolled along easily, seeming just a little too into it to be acting.

And she didn't even have the right to be mad. It's not like they were dating or anything. Not anymore. 

Yet something defensive inside her screaming at her to go intervene, go stop this mess and take him back. Make him hers. Tell Stella to go find someone else. God, how she wanted to take him back. Now was the worst possible time to realize that, she silently noted, and she couldn't do anything for the risk of endangering the mission. So she had to sit and watch and fume.

Her frustration must've shown on her face because some woman asked if she was alright and she flat out snapped at the poor lady. Then she felt bad and bought the woman a drink as an apology. All the while, Jesse and Stella was just in her line of vision. 

"You look like you're having a rough night."

Petra looked up at the bartender, who had settled easily across from her. She laughed humorlessly. "That obvious, huh?"

"Maybe. I tend to see a lot of people come through here in a lot of different moods. A pretty lady such as yourself shouldn't look so angry."

"Thanks."

He nodded. "Can I get you anything? Something strong?"

"As much as I would love to take you up on that, I'm driving. Someone's gotta be responsible."

"Ah, you're in a group?"

"With a friend."

The bartender nodded again, setting down one glass and starting on another. "They off being stupid?"

"I guess," she rested her chin in her hand. "Trying to get laid. Like I wanna sit here and watch that."

"I feel you. Can't blame you for being so defensive about that. People got their reasons for everything, just keep that in mind. Your friend might be trying to forget some kind of heartache or loneliness, getting lost in someone else as a remedy."

Petra didn't know if that's how Jesse felt, but the thought of trying that technique was tempting. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I should go look for them, make sure they didn't die or something."

The bartender snorted and she got up and walked a few steps away before looking to the table in the corner.

She immediately closed her eyes and turned around. The image of Stella hanging off Jesse with her lips on his was stamped in Petra's mind, and she wanted to scream.

This was a terrible idea.

She should've told Soren to send someone else.

She was fucked, royally fucked. 

<>

When Stella had fallen asleep, Jesse had gotten dressed and went through her purse. Found some addresses, a starred phone number on a worn notecard. He easily unlocked her phone, poked through that. Found some promising contacts and a business email. But nothing that seemed to directly link to The Admin.

It wasn't like the mission had failed. Actually, he'd say it went quite well, having collected a lot more information than OSIA had been able to in months. Soren had been right; Stella was pretty loose-lipped.

He set everything back how it was, left no note, and quietly slipped out of the hotel room. He had no idea where Petra was right now, but his first guess was she was sleeping in the car. She always did that when they were supposed to meet up later. 

He hit the elevator button and waited. Then waited some more. After five minutes and no elevator, he sighed and took the stairs instead, fighting a yawn. It was one am, they had a two hour drive back, and all he wanted to do was get to headquarters, report, and get some goddamn sleep. As he made his way down the steps, he thought about how he could manipulate Petra into driving them home and for some reason the thought of her made guilt flare in his stomach.

He shook his head. They weren't dating anymore, and what he did was for work purposes only. Even early on when had just realized his feelings for her, he did things like this and walked it off like it was nothing. Maybe it was because she had to come with him on this trip. Or maybe...

A loud clang above him made him freeze, peering up at the staircases over head. A masked face appeared above him, someone he recognized from the club earlier, and he was vaguely aware that they were pointing a gun at him. He quickly threw himself against the wall as a spray of bullets rained down, and as the man overhead reloaded, he made a mad dash down, yanking open the door to the second floor and running into the hallway.

The hotel had two staircases at each end, one in the front and one in the back. His feet pounded on the old hallway carpet as he beelined for the other set of stairs, yanking the door open and dashing down. If he could make it into the lobby, he should be safe.

He was halfway there with the first floor down swung open, another guard marching in. He yelled something and pointed his gun at Jesse, forcing him to stop and throw his hands in the air. He knew the other guy would be there any second and as he wracked his brain for any way to get out of this situation, Petra suddenly appeared in the doorway, shooting the guard in the knees.

Blood splattered the wall as the man fell to the ground, howling in pain. Petra started running. "Come on!"

Jesse bolted after her, hearing the other guard yelling after them. They ran through the hall, hearing exclamations arise behind the doors as they went tearing into the lobby. Nobody sat at the front desk and Petra grabbed Jesse's hand, dragging him out the double glass doors to the parking lot. "This way! I moved the car and we can lose him!"

He followed without question, tearing after her as they wove among the trees, emerging into a gas station parking lot. The blue mustang sat behind the car wash with a few other cars, undisturbed, and they yanked the doors open, leapt inside haphazardly, and buckled in.

Petra was breathing hard, clutching the keys in her hand as she fumbled to start the engine. "Shit. Give me your shoe."

"What?"

"These dumb heels! Give me your fucking shoe!"

He yanked his right one off, passing it to her, and she threw her heel into the backseat, putting his shoe on and hitting the gas. They took the curb as they pulled out of the parking lot, heading for the highway.

Jesse watched over his shoulder until he couldn't see the gas station, breathing a sigh of relief. "I don't think he managed to follow us."

"That was too fucking close," Petra flicked her now-messy hair out of her eyes, breathing hard. "Why didn't you shoot that guy in the stairwell?"

"He'd have blown my head off before I could even reach for my gun, I assure you," Jesse took off his already-loose tie and suit jacket, throwing them into the back with Petra's shoe before rolling up his sleeves. "How'd you know I was in trouble?"

"Waited in the lobby for you. That guy didn't know I was there, but he had been waiting in the lobby too...probably wanted to grab you. When he went for the stairwell, I knew something was up."

"Huh. Well, thank you, Petra," he leaned back in his seat as they merged onto the highway. "You saved my life."

"It...it was nothing, Jesse. That's just what partners are supposed to do," she glanced at him and sighed. "Did you learn anything?"

"Yeah, actually, I did. Soren wasn't kidding about her being loose-lipped. Kept dropping stuff like no tomorrow. Found some stuff in her purse and on her phone too."

"Any direct contacts with The Admin?"

"Not that I could tell. But I did find some people Soren'll probably want to look into for interrogation," Jesse pinched the bridge of his nose and leaned his head back, stretching his neck. "God, I am exhausted."

She snorted. "I can imagine."

His green eyes immediately snapped over to her. "That sounded almost bitter."

"You're imaging shit, Jesse."

"Petra--"

"Just shut up, okay? I just want to focus on getting back, filing our report, getting out of this stupid dress, and going to goddamn bed. I haven't gotten any sleep tonight."

He shifted uncomfortably. "I thought you slept in the car."

"Tempting. But I was getting worried about the security so I went to the hotel instead. Good thing I did because otherwise all our information would be a bloody mound of mush in the stairwell right now."

"Good to know you were worried about the information and not me."

She growled. "Don't, Jesse. Or you can fucking hitch-hike back."

"Don't what, Petra?! You're the one acting hostile!"

"It's nothing!"

"Clearly it's not!"

She suddenly turned the wheel, pulling them onto the closest exit, making Jesse grab the wheel in panic. She wung the car into the nearest side road, throwing it into park. She turned to him, glaring. "I said it doesn't matter so it doesn't. Fucking. Matter!"

"But it does, Petra!" He dropped his head back against the seat and groaned. "I hate when you get like this! It matters to me, goddamn it! Everything about you has always mattered to me!"

He expected some sort of angry, snippy comment, but instead she just stared at him. He couldn't read her face but her tone was full of hurt when she said, "It bugged me. It fucking bugged me."

He straightened. "What bugged you?"

She laughed almost maniacally. "This mission. Watching you and Stella. It got under my skin, fucked me up, made me angry. Angry at myself. Angry at my stupidity."

"You're not stupid, Petra."

"Yeah? Well I was stupid to let you go," she dropped her face into her hands, her fingers curling into the auburn hair falling out of her bun. "All I could thing about tonight was how badly it messed me up to see you with someone else. I know it was all a tactic, all a fraud, but it looked so real and it felt like I was pouring acid on my chest. I wanted to go over there, push her off of you, and say fuck it to this whole thing."

Jesse blinked rapidly before reaching over and gently grasped her arms, lowering them and encouraging her to look up at him. "I felt guilty," he admitted. "Like...like I was still with you, like I had cheated on you. These past two months I've continually thought about it, and even considering looking at someone else felt wrong. That whole thing felt so damn wrong."

She blinked, pressing her lips together before dropping her head and cursing. "Damn it, Jesse...I've already been on a rollercoaster, I don't want to cry on top of it."

"Sorry. Although that did make think of a quote."

She looked up at him again. "What?"

He grinned a bit. "'Boys are meant to ruin your lipstick, not your mascara'."

She burst into laughter. "Are you fucking quoting Marilyn Monroe?"

"Maybe?"

She laughed again, sitting up right and shaking her head. "You dork. God, I never should've broken up with you. Worst two months of my life."

He smiled back at her. "I agree. I'm here for the taking, if you want me back."

"Oh, I do. But we're going to have to talk to Soren about your assignments," a dark look flashed in her eyes. "I don't want to see you kissing another woman ever again."

"I'm not planning on it, I assure you."

She nodded, suddenly reaching down and turning the car off, throwing the keys into the cupholder. Jesse raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

"Soren can wait until the goddamn morning to get his report," she raised an eyebrow. "I think you said something about ruining lipstick..."

He smirked. 

God, he had missed her.

[alltheyoungmoons]

Record Shopping

@wolfstarmicrofic | 997 words | Rated T | ATYD Timeline Compliant | CW mention of war (nothing major)

Unintentionally wrote this on a whim yesterday and realised it fit the last two July prompts "Missing Scene" and "Fluff". Wrote this to slot into the 1979/1980s chapters of ATYD and I reference a couple of things from this other incredible short fic by @snailwriter. Song referenced is this.

March 1980 started and ended with a full moon. Remus tried to see the irony of being welcomed into his twenties by a Blue Moon. If that wasn’t an omen of things to come… but then again, he had opted out of taking Divination. 

It had been a gruelling start to the year, but with the news of “Baby Prongs” on the way and the fact that Remus had been relegated to minor duties, he and Sirius had spent more time together without fighting than ever since the beginning of the war.

Remus’ birthday fell on a Monday, so Sirius insisted on going out to celebrate that Sunday, just the two of them. They ended up record shopping in Kensington, pressed shoulder to shoulder while sifting through crates of records in companionable silence. Sirius was often quiet these days.

 He was busy inspecting a copy of Pink Floyd’s The Wall when Sirius called out for him from the new releases section, waving a dark-covered record as to beckon him and grinning like a madman. He snaked his way across the displays, his eyes never leaving him, relishing in how alive he looked, a glint of the incandescent kid he’d once been illuminating his silvery irises.

“What do we have here” Remus mused when Sirius held the vinyl in front of his chest to show off the cover. It was a picture of the band - three men glancing directly at the camera with various expressions and a woman with a mane of ginger curls on her profile. Remus thought that they all sorta looked like they belonged in Slytherin, but didn’t mention it, as not to upset Sirius and as to pretend, even if just for a couple of hours, that they weren’t themselves, that they didn’t know anything about wars and dead relatives and they were just two normal, dumb twenty-somethings in love. Of course this all but lasted five seconds before Sirius, still grinning with his gaze fixed on Remus, flipped the record on the back and pointed to the fourth track with his slender index finger.

Remus had to read the short sentence three times.

“Are you fucking for real?”

“Moony, it’s perfect!”

Remus was stunned. He knew Muggles had some knowledge of magical creatures, from their shared heritage that they shrug off as “folk tales”, but he hadn’t lived between Muggles for so long that it was shocking to see such evidence in the wild, so to speak.

“You better like it because this is your birthday gift.”

“I already chose my three records, actually”

“Well lucky you I’m feeling generous, so I’m getting you a fourth. Even if they do kinda look like pretentious prats, don’t you think?”

“You’re one to talk” Remus scoffed

“Moony, don’t start calling me names now, or we won't be able to make it back to bed in time.”

Remus went to pick up the copy of The Wall he’d left behind, plus the latest single by Blondie and London Calling, which had come out a few months before. Sirius slipped him some cash and he paid, as the other boy was -still- not very acquainted with muggle currency.

They got home and had takeout from Huang’s, who was kind enough to gift them a couple of beers when he found out it was about to be Remus’ birthday. They sat in the living room, evening into night, listening to music, and as midnight quickly approached, Sirius put on the record he insisted on buying, with that stupid song. It wasn't bad, though a bit to rockabilly for Remus' taste. As the grandfather clock in Flat 7 chimed twelve times, the stereo started thumping a steady rhythm accompanied by strumming chords that sliced through the silence, immediately captivating. After a few riffs, a low voice started drawling out

I was a teenage werewolf Braces on my fangs I was a teenage werewolf And no one even said thanks And no one made me stop!

The two boys froze, exchanging a glance. It was Remus who broke first, melting into a fit of hysterics.

“It’s so stupid!”

“I know! It’s brilliant!” Sirius was wiping his eyes. How long had it been since they were happy tears?

I had a teen-land mind I had to blow my top And under teen full moon No one could make me stop! No one could make me stop!

Sirius slipped from the sofa to snuggle up to Remus, who had lain on the floor catching his breath. He kissed the tip of his nose, gently.

“Happy Birthday, Moons.”

A teenage werewolf Parallel bars A teenage girlfriend Got a lot of scars Somebody please make me stop Ohhh please…

“Would you have fancied me if I had braces on my fangs?” Remus mused jokingly.

Sirius answered with a gravity like his honour depended on it “What kind of- yes? I would’ve probably been gone even more. I like the nerd thing, if you haven’t noticed.”

You know, I have puberty rights And I have puberty wrongs No one understood me All my teeth were so long And no one made me stop!

“You can officially say you were a teenage werewolf, now”

“Yeah, and all I got was this lousy t-shirt”

Sirius slapped his arm.

“Oi!”

“What I mean is - we’re not teenagers anymore.”

“Haven’t you had a few months to adjust to the idea already?”

“Calling me old?”

“Never in a derogatory way, my love - I haven’t felt younger than sixty since I was thirteen.”

Sirius went quiet, clouding over. How much of their teenagehood had been lost to the war already? His brother would never live to see his twenties. Their futures, this new decade, were unfolding in front of them, ripe with potential and terrifying like the concrete mystery of a black hole. For now, though, Remus was content with lying on the carpet, his lover in his arms, listening to some weird Muggle band making light of his life’s curse.

[dairogo]

Ooh tell us about "Lighthouse gets things moving?"

OOh, yes! Lighthouse is an interesting character. He's the only super in the story who wants a special super name, because he wants so bad to turn this superhero thing into something incredible.

In the current iteration of the story, I've FINALLY got the POVs together to talk, and I've had about 7k words of them all just coping being in the same place before I can actually set them on the right track. Lighthouse, with his focus on the whole Being Super thing, is probably the right guy to get things started because he's got a long-term goal that isn't just about his own personal wellbeing or curiosity.

“A cure,” Lighthouse echoed, Damian’s amusement at the thought rattling around in the back of his head. He found it hard to match that casual enthusiasm, with lives at stake, but he took in Phillip’s death-grip on the neatly repacked record. “We want to let you look for it.” Phillip’s mouth twisted. “Very generous of you.” “If there is such thing as a cure, we would be happy to help spread it,” he offered, feeling the looming strength of his promise hinging on a paper-thin ‘if’. “You’re not the only ones,” Phillip said, baring his straight, squared teeth. No fangs, although that wouldn’t stop him from trying to rip one of them apart. “I don’t care what you do with it once I’m done, but you haven’t exactly left me in a good position to find it. My house is a crime-scene, you stole my car-” “Your car,” Li Hua breathed, mouth agape. “-I’ve been sleeping in garden sheds for the past two nights because my landlord is about to rake me over the coals, and I am thirsty.” The glass of a few last melting icecubes on the coffee-table didn’t do justice to the heat that radiated off Phillip’s spittle-flecked chin. Angus’s cloud-based manoeuvrability didn’t feel like enough protection should this become physical. “What do you need?” Lighthouse asked stiffly.

Writing a scene with a lot of people in it is tricky, but also I'm loving the various interactions between them. It's FUN, but it's HARD fun ...

[jokerislandgirl32]

Some Zach Generated Headcanons: Part 1

Welp, I stuck Zach’s name into a random headcanon generator a while back, and I got quite a few accurate seeming headcanons for him. They truly make so much sense and many of them have canon based arguments that support their validity. So, I decided to post some of them along with my commentary and some photographic or video “evidence.” This is not to say any of these are true, it’s just for fun! You can find them below the cut! Courtesy of this random headcanon generator.

Absolutely no doubt considering his track record with being hit/run over by things…

I’ve created an entire selfship and au based on this exact scenario…the man is legitimately clueless when it comes to romance. He’d probably have no idea anyone was interested in him until it literally hit him in the face or something.

Canonically he’s got bags under his eyes, he’s seen sleeping in some episodes and consuming beverages containing caffeine such as tea and energy drinks….yes he’s fallen asleep at his desk before while creating his inventions, 100%.

Some flavor of it for sure…

Again it is canonically shown that he does not like the dark, therefore it’s not a far stretch to say he is afraid of the dark (he’s so me core).

The man hates to lose, and he’s been known to actively cheat to win, of course he does this! Zach loves winning!

Zach is an expert at lying, he lies all the time, but he’s not very good at it because people know he’s a liar, and they see right through him…

Okay, this one is a bit out there but I think it fits! Zach’s emotions can go from 0 to 60 in a second. He can be a very hyper and unhinged person, if you’d add energy drinks to that mix it could be bad. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t drink them…but he probably shouldn’t if they do cause such negative effects.

Well I hope you all enjoyed this post, as stated, there is a part 2, when I’ll get that out….who knows, 😂.

[jawbone-xylophone]

Still not entirely happy with my characterization, but I do like the slightly experimental choices I made here. I just think Hypnos and Thanatos are extremely divorced, and it's partially because they both think Hypnos should be exactly like Thanatos. Neither of them is sure when it all fell apart, though.

Flavored with an eldritch being having body dysmorphia, and also copious flowery language surrounding People Dying.

~🥀🦋🥀~

It's an old and rotten unraveling, this thing between them.

Before earth and air, before moon and water, there was a suggestion of what could be. And it writ upon itself Night, and it writ upon itself Love, and the darkness filled itself with a thousand shadows, a thousand stars.

And they learned to sleep. And they learned to dream. And they learned to die.

They learned many other things, of course, and Hypnos learned at the knee of Mother Night what gave men delight and terror. He liked to be gentle with them. He liked to weave dreams of river mist and poppy stems and stardust, let mortals taste a little of immortality away from bloody work and bursting callouses. Everyone, everywhere, deserved something nice in their lives.

He'd really thought Thanatos agreed.

Sleep is the midwife of the gentle dead, after all. He lowered their eyelids, fluffed their pillows, reminded them they were loved, drowsy souls all wrapped up in a neat little bow for his brother to take below. They'd danced this dance for aeons, before Time fully knew its own name. A matched set, hand in hand, waltzing the thin blurry line of oblivion and eternity.

They were twins. They should have had an understanding.

Up the hallway Hades loomed over his desk, pinching the bridge of his nose to stifle a gold flush of rage in the wake of Prince Zagreus's latest antics. Mother Nyx hovered outside the prince's door like she'd just happened to be there since the dawn of time for no particular reason, and something about it- her hands, her jaw, the smoke-pale skin they'd all consciously matched to mark out family, was just... a lot. A lot to handle. Honestly, just a little bit hilarious.

He'd been using a human-shaped body for so long it had involuntary responses now, wasn't that funny? Thanatos had come by... some timeless amount of time ago, maybe a decade, maybe a year, to tell him to get better at record keeping. Registering new shades. It wasn't a bad job. It wasn't an ideal job. It could sure prove he wasn't incompetent and clingy and dependent.

All he had to do was stay awake and friendly and not do anything creative, with zero help from anyone, and try not to accidentally slice his hand on his quill every time Thanatos dismissed him. He bled poppy sap, after all, not ichor like the Olympians.

It was kind of funny. Very funny, actually. He really had no reason to bleed anything- he might as well bleed ichor, if he could. Something to work on after his shift maybe. If he dreamed hard enough, he might change enough to improve something. He'd only really remembered in the last millennia to keep the number of his fingers stable. Sometimes he'd wake up with more or less. Maybe that was a problem.

It wasn't, once upon a time. It'd just been him and Thanatos on the banks of the Lethe, dancing the way flowers and butterflies do, drawing souls gently down into that final sleep to end all heartache and pain. Something gentle. Something good.

Hypnos let his papercuts scar like a human, trying to keep track of the last time his brother gave a damn, and got back to work.